Women's Studies Pt. 02

He held her with one arm while he stroked her hair with the other.

"I couldn't be more proud," he said quietly. "You were so strong, so courageous today. I am in awe. I'm sure I couldn't have taken half the abuse that you did. You were amazing. Here, I made you some tea. It will help you warm up," and he handed it to her. The hot tea did feel good in her cold hands and the aroma was as uplifting as always.

David was slightly worried that she'd dump the hot tea in his lap. Maggie actually briefly considered throwing it in his face, but she reminded herself that she'd asked him to help her. Considering how acrimonious their divorce had been, he was being a good friend. In her fragile mood, it felt good to have him hold her and stroke her hair. And, of course, it helped a lot that he was stroking her pride with his words of praise. She had done some pretty daring things. Wasn't she stronger for having survived them? 'But, fucking Dick and Edna saw me absolutely naked!' she thought and sobbed louder, re-traumatized. 'The old fucking pervert patted my goddamn ass!' she raged in her own head and sobbed out loud as tears streamed down her face.

David patiently held her for 30 minutes and through four bouts of crying. After each one, he repeated his admiration. Soon, she was succumbing to the DTB that he'd dropped in her tea and she slipped into the suggestive state.

David suggested again that this project was a great idea, that she felt good about the project so far, that she appreciated his help, and that she didn't know how she would do it without him. He also suggested that the photo shoot and the slapping had been her idea to better understand the difficult circumstances that many women suffered daily and that he'd agreed reluctantly but had done his best to make the ruse real.

David also "reminded" her that her libido had been excessively high of late and how she often tossed and turned at night burning with desire, which is why she'd been masturbating a lot lately. He "reminded" her that she'd frequently been distracted by both male and female colleagues and acquaintances and even in some cases, students. He told her how she'd lost her train of thought one day while lecturing because she was imagining having sex with one of her female students.

"Which one was it?" David asked. "The pretty one in your Monday seminar. An attractive girl... I think you said she's of color?"

"Janet Lopez?..." Maggie answered dreamily.

"That's the one... Is she curvy or skinny?"

"Pretty curvy..."

"So, a round face, black hair? Large breasts? Wide hips? Brown eyes?"

"Her face is more oval... She has lovely brown eyes... She has beautiful hair, it's long and black and glossy... I think she puts something in it to make it so glossy... Her breasts aren't small; she never wears anything tight, but I think sometimes she isn't wearing a bra and she could use one... Her hips are wide... Her ass is probably pretty big..."

"That's right... Janet Lopez... In your Monday seminar..." David was trying to memorize those details. "You were saying that you were lecturing when you made eye contact and suddenly you were fantasizing about Janet Lopez undressing you. You were imagining how is would feel and taste and smell to have Janet's lips kissing your lips. You said that your pussy got super wet at the thought of Janet slowly kissing her way down your body from your lips to your neck to your nipples to your tummy to your hips to your thighs... And then lapping and kissing at your pussy lips and clit. You said that was one of the things that convinced you to remove your pubic hair. You said that you wouldn't want to have a bunch of yucky hair down there if... well, you know."

"You kissed me down there today..."

"I did and I like your pussy but lots of people — men and women — are turned off by unwanted hair. You said that your research finds that many women — I think you said almost 84% of young women remove most or all of their bikini hair and almost all pornstars. You said that removal of armpit hair was over 98%..."

"Yes... That's true..."

David also "reminded" her that she secretly craved to be humiliated and degraded and treated like trash; that she had gotten incredibly turned on by the humiliation of being forced to pee outside like a dog and having been seen by her loathsome neighbor. David suggested that she would become extremely aroused by future humiliation and degradation and that she would have the overwhelming urge to masturbate to the memories of being smacked around and of being forced to go outside naked and pee in the yard like a dog.

He also "reminded" her that her romantic feelings for himself had never died and, in fact, had become much stronger of late, including intrusive sexual cravings for him.

And, in a "twist the knife" moment, he "reminded" her that, while her self-confidence had never been high, she had been feeling especially foolish lately — that she was extremely grateful for his help because it was probably something that she wouldn't be able to do for herself. On her own, she'd probably fuck everything up, maybe get hurt or killed. She nodded dreamily. David knew this suggestion would find a ready home amongst her fears and worries.

"What was it you were worried about before? ... You were telling me about some kind of deep worry you had..."

"Well, I-I f-feel, um, you know— Well, like a failure!" she sobbed. "You know, sometimes I don't know why they hired me and I feel like I'm never going to make a name for myself and that I'm just a fraud..." she buried her head on his shoulder and cried.

"Yes, that was it," David smiled with his face and his voice. "You increasingly feel like you are a failure and a fraud. You know that the rest of the university thinks your research is bullshit and even your colleagues are privately wondering how you got tenure. They're so judgmental and they say that you're not 'pulling your weight' and they shake their heads that you haven't written a book by now." Maggie wailed into his shoulder and hot tears gushed from her clenched lids and wet his shirt. It felt to her like she couldn't breathe; she felt like she would drown in panic and shame.

"Look on the bright side," David chided gently. "You're absolutely the worst professor at GGSU and it's no wonder that they despise you, but it's not like you're the worst professor in the country! You probably not even in the bottom 10%!" David knew that Maggie was judgmental herself and thought that there was a small number of absolute idiots in Women's Studies. She referred to them privately (and guiltily, since it wasn't politically correct) as the "WS-tards" which she pronounced like "wishtards" when she'd had a glass too much wine, back when they were falling in love and sharing their souls. "You're probably a shade better than those "WS-tards", right?" David said with false hope in his voice. Maggie's wailing rose slightly and David smiled inwardly.

"Now listen, don't you worry. I'm going to help you get through this. You had a great idea, and this is your chance to prove them wrong! Probably your last chance, but you have a chance! With my help, this is all going to turn out great. You're going to have the last laugh. You're going to be recognized as a genius. With my help, this is going to work out."

"Y-Y-You r-really t-think— think so?" she gasped, barely in control of herself.

"I know so," David replied in his most authoritative, reassuring voice — the one that had initially seduced her and then had made her angry. But now, awash in self-doubt, she clung to it (to him) like a life-preserver.

"Maybe a book...?" she asked doubtfully.

"Certainly a book," he answered heartily. "Probably an award-winner. You will be a star on campus. Take my word..." That made her cry again in her relief. David would save her, she thought and she held on to him fiercely as she tried hard to calm down.

Finally, David brought out his last suggestion: she would become intensely thirsty whenever she heard the phrase 'dry dusty desert'. When she heard that phrase, 'dry dusty desert', she would immediately crave a drink like water or whatever was around and she would chug that drink down to the last drop.

"Oh, by the way," David said. "Tomorrow, you'll be coming to dinner with my wife and I. Maybe 6:30? This is taking a lot of time and, you know — strictly to help out your project — I may have to fuck you. So, before this goes any further you're going to have to ask my wife's permission for my help. Don't worry, I think you'll find a way to convince her. So, go buy something nice to wear and get your hair and nails done. See what your stylist thinks of bright, hot pink hair. Tell her that you want people to notice you when you walk into a room; you want the men's attention and the women's envy — especially the male attention. Do everything you can think of to make yourself as stereotypically pretty as possible."

Finally, he pulled out a piece of paper and showed it to her. "You typed and printed this earlier, but then you foolishly deleted it (for which you feel stupid), so don't lose this sheet." The sheet was a to-do list:

• Find a good salon and make an appointment for a consultation for laser hair removal.

• Shave my armpits, legs and all the hair off my vagina and around my asshole.

• Join a gym and start a diet.

• Go to the mall and buy some high heels (as slutty as possible) and learn to walk and dance in them.

• Visit the make-up counter and buy a full range of make-up and perfume; see if they can provide make-up tutorials. Start wearing make-up daily.

• Call Sarah and make a date to go shopping. Buy new feminine clothes (some stylish, some trampy, some workout clothes, lingerie); also buy new shoes, jewelry, and a purse. [Her sister would be delighted. Sarah had always been extremely cisgendered and "girlie." And she was constantly trying to convert Maggie and saying unsupportive things like: "Stay sweet; men don't like uppity women." and "You can't be happy alone." and "Whatever his faults, David was kind; you made a big mistake!" Sarah was also prone to saying things like "I'll say a prayer over you."]

• Watch porn and masturbate; keep track of what gets me hot, and record hot dirty talk and other things that I can incorporate.

• Find clips of sexy dancing and practice.

• Make appt. with doctor to go on birth control. Ask about something semi-permanent, like a patch, implant, or IUD.

END of Part 2