The Mask Becomes You Pt. 01-10

Speaking of Stacy, I haven't heard from her since I saw her that morning at her dorm. She's not returning my texts and not answering my calls. I know what she's up to though, as I'm having her roommate Rebecca update me every few hours. Plus, I know David has asked her out and they went on a date last night, because I told him to do it. Better yet, Stacy agreed to it. I just hope she had a good time, but I'll find that out from David when I see him later.

I then remember that if I make it to math class, I can actually see Stacy in person. Surely she wouldn't ignore me if I were right there, right? I look at my phone. A few texts from my various slaves, but I can answer those later. As for the time... I have half an hour before it starts, so I jump up and go for a shower in my dorm's tiny bathroom.

The water running over my skin feels refreshing, and as I run shampoo through my hair I feel free from all my worries. But no sooner do I notice that I'm relaxing than the image of the mask implants itself at the front of my mind. I was going to leave it in my cupboard when I left for class, but would it be so bad if I took it to class? It would be in my bag, out of harm's way. I wouldn't even need to look at it.

But would it be so bad to look at it? Maybe even just touch it? Perhaps lift it in front of my face and stroke it a bit... Maybe I could just put it on for a moment, just to get that feeling of power again. Just for a moment, or a couple minutes, tops...

Maybe I am overreacting, avoiding the mask like this. The slaves I've indoctrinated are mine, not the mask's. I'm the one commanding the power, why shouldn't I just wear the mask and stay in control this time?

No. No! I'm almost certain the mask has implanted thoughts like this in my mind, and made them indistinguishable from my own. I cover my face with my hands and sink down to the floor of the shower, sobbing. It's in my head and it won't stop. It will keep assaulting my mind until I break... And then, it will enslave me, merge my mind with it, and I will have no free will left to speak of.

This is why I've been spending the last 48 hours having sex with my slaves. It's all been an attempt to shut out thoughts of the mask, to try and regain my sense of autonomy. What was I like before I ever wore the mask? Which thoughts were always there? Which thoughts can I trust?

I think about how much pleasure I would feel just to give in and submit myself to the mask's power, and a new wave of arousal starts to grow within me. More conditioning, no doubt. The mask would love if I masturbated in the shower to thoughts of it taking control of me for good. It would make it so much harder to do what I've been doing...

I think that if I can keep myself from wearing the mask for long enough, some of the compulsions it's embedded in me will become easier to manage. Also, I can't help but get the feeling that the mask becomes more powerful the more I use it. Two days ago I enslaved eight people in the space of hours. If must have been like pouring gasoline on a flame for the mask, and I so nearly got burned.

So once I had broken free of the mask's grip the other day, and after I had a fun nervous breakdown in front of my terrified looking slaves, I decided I needed to go cold turkey on the mask. At least for a while. Three days, I had promised myself at the time. If I can resist the constant urge to wear the mask for a whole 72 hours, I'm confident I can put it on again and perhaps use it more sparingly. Rushing into a room and indoctrinating five people at once is no longer on the cards. I'm still curious about making a video with the mask, but nervous at the same time. There's still so much I don't know...

Sandra and Paul will be able to help with that, though. I've assigned them to do some research into the mask. What it is, where it comes from, and so on. I have no idea how they'll find any of that out, but that's their problem. It's nice to be able to deligate.

I come out of the shower and put some clothes on. Nothing special. Just my everyday jeans, a small t-shirt, and a cotton jersey that I've always liked. I glance in the mirror again. At least I look more like myself, flaws and all.

I exit my dorm running only five or so minutes late. A glance at my schedule shows that all of my slaves are currently in one class or another. Professor Steven's is teaching his senior class. He's seemingly struggling with his TA Jennifer still being away. It was so sudden that no plan was put in place to have cover for her. I've had Julia helping him out every moment she can, but she too has other classes.

I can't help but feel irate when I think about it. I want all my slaves to excel at their studies. Just because I've stripped away their free will and turned them into obedient sex toys, domestic servants, and puppets to my whims, doesn't mean I want them to flunk out. So because of this, I've told all of them that their grades are their top priority, and part time jobs and whatever also come before directly serving me. It's already gotten so annoying once or twice already, when everyone has been busy all at once. A goddess without her worshipers doesn't seem like much of a goddess to me, so it left me feeling pathetic, like I can no longer function without someone bowing before me and tending to my needs.

And another thing! No one has any fucking money! My slaves were able to scrape a couple hundred dollars in loose change together for me yesterday, but I told them not to hand over money that they needed for tuition, food, or other vital expenses. It turns out everyone is as broke as I am. Sure, some of us have parents putting us through college or have scholarships, but otherwise cash is universally tight. The exception to this is of course Stevens, but being a married man with strict instructions to maintain that cover, he can't exactly start emptying his savings without his accountant wife noticing something amiss.

At least I can have Stevens buy me some alcohol with the cash I've gathered. None of my slaves are 21 yet, but the Goddess demands wine, dammit!

I reach my math class and sneak in the back, quietly taking a seat where Stacy and I always sit. She's not there, and I spend the next five minutes scanning the lecture hall for her. Eventually, I see her down near the front, in a throng of eager looking attentive heads. Why would she sit up there? We always hang around the loosely packed back benches together... My heart sinks as I realise that she really is making a great effort to avoid me. My mind instantly wanders to the simple idea of using the mask to make her like me again, but I quickly shut that down. Honestly, I don't need another slave right now. What I need is a friend.

The math class goes by in a blur. I'm not paying attention. What I'm mostly doing is sweating into my fresh clothes as I think about the mask, sitting in my bag in my cupboard. Waiting to be worn, waiting to enslave, waiting to take control of me. A mixture of fear, arousal, and shame swirl around inside me until the class is dismissed.

I notice Stacy stealing a glance at me. With a pained expression on her beautiful face, she turns quickly to leave via the far end of the lecture hall. I don't follow her. Instead I wait until the crowd has thinned significantly before I slink out, head bowed and feet shuffling. As I walk towards the edge of campus I wonder if maybe I shouldn't just give in to the mask. I can't help but feel like I suck at being a Goddess. I mean, I've almost lost control so many times now, not to mention almost losing the mask to Stacy, and losing Stacy because of the mask. I have bruises, sure, but my emotional hurts are much more numerable and painful. In certain moments, like this one, it sinks in to me what an absolute evil monster I am, enslaving people, stripping them of any ability to resist me or think for themselves...

At least if I surrendered my own will to the mask I'm sure I wouldn't have these recurring bouts of guilt from my conscience. I'm weak to feel so crappy about the path I so readily walked down. I can't even stick to my convictions... The mask is so much better than I am. I'm worthless. And now I'm not even sure if these are thoughts the mask put there or my own mind giving myself a grilling. Not that it matters much, as either way it's true.

As I walk into the café that's just off campus, the smell of fresh coffee and toasted muffins brings me out of my depressed reverie. The café is nicely decorated, with a countryside cosy feel to it. Most of the tables are square wooden ones to sit two or four people, but a row of booths lines one of the walls, offering a bit more privacy. I see David and Rebecca waiting patiently for me at a corner booth.

"Goddess!" Rebecca says in reverence as I take a seat next to her.

"In public, Rebecca!" I moodily snap back at her.

"Sorry! Tara." Rebecca immediately corrects herself, turning scarlet and shrinking in her hair slightly.

"How are you Tara?" David asks attentively. I can sense that he too is itching to call me Goddess here. I can tell they both just want to drop to their knees and beg me to command them, and a big part of me is tempted to. That's part of the reason I chose the public place, though, to avoid such temptations.

I send Rebecca for drinks and have David tell me all about his date with Stacy last night. He recounts an evening where the energy between himself and Stacy could at best be described as tepid.

"I mean, we had a few laughs, sure." David explains with a frown. "But, like, a chuckle here and there. Otherwise it just felt... Well, it felt really forced, go- Tara."

"Really?" I ask in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Uhh, yeah." David affirms, clearly not sure how to answer. "It was mostly awkward. I really tried, but she just wasn't into it."

"But that makes no sense..." I mutter, mostly to myself. "We both... She was just as keen... You're half the reason she got so pissed at me in the first place, aren't you?"

"I, uhh, I don't know." David says, looking like a deer in headlights.

"How did the date end?" I ask, pressingly, as if more details will turn the whole thing around.

"I walked her back to her dorm, and kissed her on the cheek at her door. I wasn't invited in." David explains plainly. He looks dejected, but more from letting me down than anything to do with his date with Stacy.

"Dammit!" I exclaim. "How're you supposed to make a girl happy if she's lukewarm on a date with her crush?"

"I... I don't know, Tara." David replies apologetically. "Would you like me to ask her out again? I could try something different this time?"

"No..." I murmur as Rebecca returns with the drinks. "Well... Maybe. I don't know, I'll think about it." I say with total uncertainty. "How about you, Rebecca? How has Stacy been in your dorm?"

"Sad, g- Tara." Rebecca replies, looking unhappy herself and taking a slow drink from her coffee.

"Well that sucks." I say bitterly. "But what's eating you up?"

"I'm failing you, Tara!" Rebecca squeaks, her eyes getting teary. "I'm supposed to be the best flatmate I can be to Stacy and make her happy and I'm failing!"

"Oh, relax, Rebecca," I say irritably, "As long as you're trying, you're not failing me, you're doing exactly what I need of you. Now, can you tell me more? What is she so sad?"

"Thanks, Tara," Rebecca replies gratefully. "From what I can tell, she just really misses you. I'm not sure, because each time I ask she says she doesn't want to talk about it, but it's what I gather."

"Yeah, well, I miss her too..." I say, glumness enveloping me. What can't we just be friends again?

I spend the rest of the time at the café with my two slaves going over my plans for doing up the philosophy club room. Although neither of them takes philosophy, I still want them to turn up and help. We all finish our drinks and I let them get back to their studies. I can call on them if I want a bit of company later, though I have been preferring Derek's perfectly sized cock and Felicity's admirable enthusiasm, so chances are I'll be calling them.

I head back to my dorm, my thoughts now on Stacy rather than the mask. It makes no sense that she didn't have a great time out with David. We spent so much of our time together taking about him, going wild with the one or two things we actually knew about him at the time. Did she know that I'd enslaved David, and put him up to asking her out? Is that maybe why she was avoiding me? Oh god, I hope not. I feel like I've got enough damage to repair going forward without adding manipulation of her love life into the mix.

I decide that despite my sorrows and confusion, the best thing I can do, both for myself and for Stacy is to keep at it with my cold turkey approach to the mask. If I can give myself that time and space to get my thoughts in order, then maybe I could even get Stacy to see that the mask isn't getting the better of me. Maybe she'll want to hang out again. I know without a doubt that no good could come from going crazy with the mask the way I have been doing so far. No, temperance and self-discipline are definitely the way forward.

I arrive at my dorm and am about to enter when I do a double take at the door. There, scribbled in what looks like permanent marker across my door are the words:

"Keep the noise down, whore!"

I can feel the colour drain from my face as I stare at the words. A rising lump in my throat and a heaving in my chest assault me simultaneously, and my breaths start to get heavy and loud. It's only when I notice my hands are sore that I realise that it's because my fists are shaking in clenched rage.

I storm into my room in a cold fury and throw open the door to my cupboard. I claw at the laundry clothes and tear open my bag. In moments, the mask is on my face and I feel a rush of confident power surge into my already enraged body. Fuck the 72 hours! Fuck the cold turkey idea! Fuck any notion that I'm going to stop using this mask. It's mine and I will use it to crush the mind of ANYONE who dares defy me!

I stomp out of my dorm and go to the next door down, the one leading into the dorm adjoined to the wall of my room. As I slam heavily on the door, my mind races with all the most cruel and horrible things I can do while wearing the mask. As I pause and hear movement on the other side of the door, a manic, sadistic smile spreads across my mask covered face.

We're about to see who exactly the whore is, and find out just how loud she can be...