“And so,” Professor Tamaki explained, standing at the front of her packed lecture theater, “that’s what, like, led Descartes to famously espouse the principle of… of… “ She trailed off, the words escaping her, before giggling brightly. “Well, um, I’m sure you’ve all done the reading, right?”
Giggles and insincere nods from all around the room were her reply. Professor Tamaki was oblivious to the derision in the eyes of her students.
“Anyway, that’s all the time we have,” Professor Tamaki continued, “so, put your papers on my desk on your way out, ‘kay?”
“Um, professor?” a student called out. “You said that was due for next Friday, not today.”
Professor Tamaki frowned, confused, as more of her students tittered. Was that right? She really couldn’t remember. She didn’t pay much attention to deadlines anymore. Not now that she had Eunji to handle all that for her.
“Oh.” The Professor smiled. “Oops! Well, just make sure you all have it done for then!”
Her students all nodded.
“Professor Tamaki?” called out a girl in the front row, a mischievous look on her face. “You dropped your pen. Behind you.”
“Oh!” Professor Tamaki hadn’t noticed that, but she nonetheless turned around and bent over at the waist, trying to see if her pen was on the ground. From behind her, she heard impressed gasps and appreciative whistles.
Even though she’d been spending less and less time preparing for them, Professor Tamaki’s classes were better attended than ever. She was pleased by that. So pleased, in fact, she no longer felt the need to be so strict with her students, and as her teaching style had changed, her once-fearsome reputation had softened. Professor Tamaki just couldn’t help it. She was so relaxed these days. The ‘stern disciplinarian’ role no longer came so naturally to her. She was always in such a good mood - and why wouldn’t she be? Her plans regarding Eunji were finally approaching their climax.
The professor was blissfully unaware of the real reasons she’d suddenly become so popular. Firstly, thanks to her newfound laxity and airheadedness, her course had become known as an easy credit. And secondly, students were eager to attend so they could gawk at her new look.
Aesthetically, Professor Tamaki had undergone a near-complete transformation. Even her hair was different; instead of a tight, high ponytail, she preferred to let her long hair hang loose in pretty, feminine waves. Her outfits, though, were what had students swarming her classes in droves.. As many of them had remarked behind her back, she now looked more like a porn teacher than a real professor. Above the waist, she always wore lacy push-up bras and tight blouses that she often neglected to finish buttoning up, leaving the lingerie and cleavage beneath entirely visible. And below, she’d taken to wearing high heels and stockings, and her skirts had crept shorter and shorter. The tight pencil skirts she now sported were barely long enough to cover her ass, and when she bent over, as she was now doing, they left little to the imagination. It was no wonder all the girls in her freshman class were drooling over her.
“I can’t see it,” Professor Tamaki said eventually, standing straight. “Guess I’ll have to look for it later!”
Her students giggled, astonished that the ice-cold bitch they’d once feared was so easily deceived.
“Anyway.” The professor waved a hand. “Class dismissed!”
As her class filed out of the room, there was an extra spring in Professor Tamaki’s step. Today was a very special today. Her expression soured, though, at the sight of a displeased, older woman standing in her doorway.
“Professor Tamaki,” said Professor Abigail Bell. “May I have a word?”
It wasn’t a question. Not really. Professor Bell was her superior, and one of the deans of the college. Professor Tamaki could hardly refuse.
“Of course,” Professor Tamaki replied, beckoning her inside. “So, um, what can I do for you?”
Professor Bell regarded her disdainfully as she entered the now-deserted lecture theater. She was in her thirties and, while still attractive, dressed far more conservatively than Professor Tamaki ever had. She made a particular point of throwing a displeased glance down at Professor Tamaki’s exposed cleavage. Professor Tamaki straightened her back, pushing out her tits even more.
“Nagisa,” Professor Bell began. “I’ve been reviewing some of your classes lately, as we’ve discussed before, and I have some very serious concerns about both your teaching and your conduct.”
“My… conduct? How silly!” Professor Tamaki giggled. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Frankly, there’s a lot to cover,” Professor Bell sniffed. “Your grading, for one. Your failure to institute proper deadlines, for another. But I think we should start with your manner of dress. Professor, surely you are aware of our faculty’s standards of professionalism.”
“Oh, but, Professor Bell,” Professor Tamaki replied, in a sweet, simpering, guileless voice. “Don’t you think I look, like, really good?”
“’Looking good’ is hardly the issue!” Professor Bell retorted indignantly. “Rather, it’s… it’s…”
She trailed off, her gaze fixed to Professor Tamaki’s hand.
Professor Tamaki had - idly, innocently - brought one of her hands to her chest and was stroking her fingertips gently and rhythmically across her bare skin. As the small motion caught Professor Bell’s eye, she started moving her fingers more rapidly, tapping and stroking with them in dizzying, intricate patterns that were designed both to fascinate and to appear completely casual.
“Are you sure?” Professor Tamaki purred. “Cause you seem, like, really interested in how my breasts look.”
“I… I… that is… w-what?” A bead of sweat had formed on Professor Bell’s forehead, and it was very, very obvious that she was unable to stop staring.
This wasn’t the first time Professor Bell had attempted to confront Professor Tamaki. And it wasn’t the first time Professor Tamaki had responded by hypnotizing her.
“Yeah,” Professor Tamaki giggled, her voice sweet and low. “You remember this, right?”
She kept her fingers moving in a dazzling pattern that was all but impossible to follow. Professor Bell shook her head, but she was clearly entranced.
“Oh, but, you totally do,” Professor Tamaki told her. “Even if you don’t think you do, your mind remembers. Your subconscious remembers.”
Professor Bell whimpered. Her eyelids were already drooping dangerously.
“There we go,” Professor Tamaki cooed. She took a step closer to the entranced dean, ensuring her chest dominated the other woman’s vision. “Go to sleep, Abigail. Go to sleep for my tits.”
That was all it took. Professor Bell’s head slumped, her eyelids fluttering, eyes barely remaining open - only just enough to keep staring at Professor Tamaki’s impressive cleavage.
“Now,” Professor Tamaki said, giggling. “Why don’t we just, like, forget about all this silly stuff about teaching and conduct?”
Professor Bell nodded sleepily. It was all she was capable of.
“Yeah, good,” Professor Tamaki cooed. “You have much more important things to think about, right?”
“H-huh?” Professor Bell murmured, frowning slightly.
“My tits, silly!” Professor Tamaki giggled again. “And how fucking horny you are for them!”
Professor Bell trembled. All at once, she was panting and sweating, cheeks turning flushed. Professor Tamaki grinned. She might have been getting more laid back, but when the need arose, she was happy to demonstrate that her skill as a hypnotist had not dulled.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Professor Tamaki continued. “So horny you can’t stand it. So horny you can’t think about anything else in the world. So, you know what you’re gonna do, Professor Bell? You’re gonna sit right here, in this lecture theater, and think really, really hard about my tits while you touch yourself.”
Professor Bell nodded, and hurriedly made her way to sit in the spot Professor Tamaki had indicated. She lifted her skirt, reached underneath it, and started masturbating. Her moans were loud and shameless, and the whole time, her eyes remained fixed on her hypnotist’s chest.
Professor Tamaki left her like that. There was no reason not to. The room wasn’t scheduled to be used by anyone else for another hour or two - plenty of time for the hypnotic suggestion to wear off. And besides, she had somewhere more important to be.
The sound of the older professor’s moans followed her as she left, until the door fell shut behind her.
There was a spring in Professor Tamaki’s step as she approached her office. Today was a special day, and one she’d anticipated eagerly for a long time.
It was the day of Eunji’s final exam.
In some ways, it was more like Eunji’s office than hers, Professor Tamaki mused as she approached. Eunji usually sat inside, at Professor Tamaki’s desk, while she sat out front like a secretary. She couldn’t quite remember when they’d made the switch, but she remembered how much sense it had made when Eunji had explained it to her. Eunji needed the space, now she was organizing things for the professor. She needed a capable assistant too, and Miri hardly had the intelligence for that. Professor Tamaki didn’t mind stepping into that role. Not if it let her spend more time with her adored, favorite student.
Even if she got plenty of that already, now that Eunji had moved in with her and taken over the master bedroom.
“Welcome back, Nagisa,” Eunji said brightly, as Professor Tamaki politely nodded and entered the office. Professor Tamaki blushed. It still made her happy to hear Eunji call her by her first name.
“Thank you.” Professor Tamaki took a moment to admire her petite, curvy student, and as her eyes caught on the stack of papers and files on Eunji’s desk, a sudden curiosity struck her. “How’s everything going? With, like, my network and my plans, I mean.”
Professor Tamaki had devoted years to building her ‘network’ - a collection of hypnotized students and former students who were likely to end up in positions of wealth and influence. The professor’s hope was that, through them, she could have all the power she could possibly want. She’d always been fastidious about keeping track of her chosen prospects, but now that Eunji was in the process of taking over, she was far more out of the loop.
Eunji laughed a little. “Oh, professor,” she replied. “You don’t need to worry about things like that anymore. Remember? That’s what you have me for.”
Professor Tamaki smiled as she realized that, as ever, her student was right. “Of course.”
“So,” Eunji prompted, smiling knowingly. “What was so important about today?”
Professor Tamaki blinked, surprised. She didn’t remember having said anything of it to Eunji before. But then again, it wasn’t the first time Eunji had seemed to know all her thoughts before she even thought them.
“As you know,” Professor Tamaki began, sitting herself down on the couch and beckoning Eunji over. “I’ve been watching you and, like, educating you for well over a month now. And I’ve decided I’ve taught you pretty much everything you need to know.”
“Thank you!” Eunji replied eagerly as she sat down next to her professor, a glint in her eye. “It’s all thanks to you. You’ve been so wonderful.”
Professor Tamaki blushed, but kept going. “So, um, I think that, in order to see if you’re ready to ‘graduate’, as you might say, a test is in order. A final exam.”
“Oh, goodness!” Professor Tamaki had the strange sense that Eunji wasn’t as surprised as she looked, but then, she always felt that way about her protégé. “A final exam? What does that mean?”
“It’s very simple. We’re going to try and hypnotize each other.” The professor grinned as she revealed her plans. It was ingenious. “If you manage to hypnotize me, then you pass. You’re ready. But if I hypnotize you, then clearly you have a little more to learn.”
“Hypnotize you?” Eunji’s eyes went wide, but they were filled with amusement. “Oh, Nagisa, I could never! You’re far too skilled for me.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Professor Tamaki rested a hand on Eunji’s shoulder, doing her best to sound supportive and encouraging. “You’ve come a long way. I think you’re more than ready.”
Eunji giggled, clearly barely able to contain her glee - at the compliment, Professor Tamaki assumed. “Well, Nagisa, if you’re sure… when’s the ‘exam’?”
“Right now.” Professor Tamaki reached into the pocket of her jacket, and lifted up her pocket watch.
Eunji blinked, and then smiled. “But, Nagisa, that hardly seems fair! You have your pocket watch here. I don’t have anything. Don’t you want to allow me some time to prepare myself?”
“That’s part of the test,” the professor replied, letting her watch hang in the air between them. “You need to be prepared at, like, all times, even without any tools.”
Nodding, Eunji said: “In that case, I’m ready.”
She wasn’t the only one smiling. Professor Tamaki was grinning too; a familiar, predatory grin that came easily to her face. “Good girl. Then, what are we waiting for?”
The pocket watch beginning to swing signaled the start of their contest.
“Why, professor,” Eunji said coyly. “It’s like you’re not even trying to give me a chance.”
“Did you, like, really expect me to?” For once, Professor Tamaki was completely aware of Eunji’s tone. Her senses felt sharper than ever, and all her focus was on her student. She loved the feeling of being on the hunt. It made everything seem so sharp, so clear. She gave Eunji a coy smile in return. “If you think you’re good enough for the role I’m trying to give you, it shouldn’t matter.”
“You have such high expectations of me.” Eunji was careful to seem and sound relaxed, but the look in her eyes was razor-sharp.
“Maybe I shouldn’t.” The remark was teasing, but it still had bite. “After all,” Professor Tamaki continued, slipping effortlessly into her hypnosis-voice. “As much as you’re looking at me, you can’t help but notice the movement of my pocket watch, can you? It’s always there, in the corner of your eye. You’re always aware of it. Swinging, swaying. Somewhere in your mind, you’re keeping track of it. Counting the swings, counting the tempo. You know you are. You’re too smart not to.”
As much as she was rooting for her student, it was a delight for Professor Tamaki to see Eunji shiver slightly as the suggestion worked its way into her head. She could just imagine the ways Eunji was already second-guessing herself, forced to choose between farcical denial and an admission that would feel like weakness and surrender.
“You’re right,” Eunji acknowledged, but then lent forward, her voice dropping to a soft, sweet whisper. “But the same goes for you, doesn’t it, Nagisa? Perhaps even more so. You can see the watch. You’re counting the swings too. You’re aware of it, just like I am. You’re already following the rhythm.”
“I…” Professor Tamaki had been ready for that, but not ready enough. She was alarmed at how light-headed she already felt, just from a few words in the right cadence. Eunji’s voice had this wonderful, diabolical way of getting into her head. She couldn’t seem to resist her.
“And you’re the one swinging the watch, after all,” Eunji mused. “That means you’re in control, right? But… maybe not. After all, you have to keep the right rhythm, don’t you, Nagisa? Nice and steady and even. You can’t let it falter, not even for a moment. You’re too good for that. Too skilled. You have to make sure it keeps swinging, just like this. But when you think about it that way, it’s almost like the watch is in control of you, isn’t it?”
“O-of course not,” Professor Tamaki replied.
Eunji pressed her advantage without mercy. “I think it is,” she continued. “Especially now I’ve put that idea in your head, you can really feel it, can’t you? Planting an idea is just that simple. Think about how your body feels, right now. All those little muscles in your arm, in your wrist, moving so precisely to keep the watch ticking. You’ve done this so many times, it’s almost automatic, isn’t it?”
Professor Tamaki couldn’t seem to muster a reply. In the spaces between her student’s words, all she could hear was the gentle, insistent ticking of her watch.
“I don’t think you could stop,” Eunji whispered. “Even if you wanted to. It just wouldn’t feel right, would it? But that means you’re not in control. The watch is in control of you, Nagisa. It’s in your head. It’s all you can think about.”
Professor Tamaki couldn’t believe how quickly she was being dragged under by the irresistible current of Eunji’s words. It wasn’t meant to be this way. She’d intended to… what had she intended? Her head swimming, the professor found herself perplexed by that question. She’d intended to win, hadn’t she? That was the only thing that made sense. She always wanted to win. That was the whole point. And yet, she couldn’t imagine any outcome but happily slipping into sweet, blissful oblivion as Eunji put her under her spell.
The mere thought of that made her heart race with excitement. So, was what she wanted? There was a certain sense to it. She adored Eunji, and what teacher wouldn’t want to see her student succeed and surpass her? Maybe it was perfectly reasonable for Professor Tamaki to want nothing more than for Eunji to drop her in mere minutes. But even as she rationalized that desire, she became conscious of another impulse, pushing her in a very different direction.
And as pride roared within her, Professor Tamaki decided she wasn’t going to go down that easily.
“Close,” Professor Tamaki said, her voice suddenly stronger and firmer than it had been in weeks. “But I’m afraid that’s far too simple, Eunji. You see, I am in control.”
To demonstrate, she carefully quickened the tempo of her pocket watch, still hanging from her hand by its chain. Eunji’s eyes went wide. Clearly, she’d already taken her victory for granted.
“Hypnosis is all about control,” Professor Tamaki continued, taking on the tone of an authoritative lecturer. “I know I’ve taught you that well enough. We’re trying to take control of people, Eunji. Impose control on them. Only one of us can be in control here. And if it’s me, then it’s not you. Isn’t that right?”
Eunji’s smile flickered. “Um…” the bright student said slowly. “What was that?”
As Eunji’s waned, Professor Tamaki’s smile only grew. She was carefully moderating her cadence, making it lyrical and soothing, but at the same time, subtly hard to follow. “Control, Eunji,” she repeated. “I have it. You’re losing it. It’s no wonder you’re having such trouble following along.”
Each tick, each swing of the watch, seemed to punctuate her words, lending them extra force.
“Um…” Eunji’s smile slipped from her face altogether, and there was a faintly panicked look in her eyes. “I-I don’t think-”
“That’s right,” Professor Tamaki interrupted. “You don’t think.” It was a cheap trick, but it was working. Seizing upon Eunji’s suddenly awkward, uncertain tone, Professor Tamaki wanted to press her harder, and leave her feeling disarmed and foolish. “You don’t need to think. Eunji. It’s OK. Just listen.”
That was exactly what Eunji did. The professor could tell that she didn’t quite understand how her control had slipped so far, and that she was struggling for a way to make a comeback. She was withdrawing into herself, trying to keep quiet and think. All Professor Tamaki had to do was keep talking, and supply her student’s stressed, confused mind with a convenient path of least resistance.
But first, she needed to break her down a little further.
“It’s OK,” Professor Tamaki echoed, leaning in, voice gentle. The watch was still swinging, swinging, swinging. “You just weren’t ready yet. You must have wondered if you could really do this. You’re so young, after all. So inexperienced. I’ve been doing this for years more than you. I’ve had so much time to pick up tricks. You’re just a student who got a little overconfident. There’s no shame in that.”
The slightest twitch in Eunji’s face was all Professor Tamaki needed to confirm she’d struck a nerve.
“It’s no wonder you failed,” the professor continued, tenderly and seductively. “You know what they say about overconfidence. Just think of this as another lesson. There’s always someone better. Someone smarter. More skilled. And that’s me, Eunji. It’s no wonder, really. I’m your professor. Your teacher. You did very well. I’m proud. But, did you really think you could pull this off?”
Professor Tamaki saw the poisonous doubt in Eunji’s eyes, and grinned. She hadn’t felt this good in months. She felt more like herself than ever. She’d missed this feeling, even though she couldn’t really remember giving it up. Perhaps even once Eunji took over for her, she’d have to take a little more of a personal interest in things.
“But…” Eunji murmured, frowning. She probably didn’t realize how completely transfixed by the watch she was, even though it was making her thoughts as slow and heavy as treacle. “But… I did it.”
Instantly, effortlessly, Professor Tamaki switched tack. “That’s right,” she soothed. “You did it. You did it all, Eunji. You’ve done so well. Now it’s time to rest.”
“Rest?” Eunji seemed to seize on that concept like a drowning sailor in a storm. The professor, meanwhile, felt like a cat toying with a mouse. She’d never had more fun. Her whole body was thrumming with it.
“Rest,” Professor Tamaki confirmed, pouring allure and gentleness into that single word. “You can rest. Aren’t you ready for it? Aren’t your eyelids already hanging heavy?”
Eunji stirred. “Noooo,” she yawned.
“It doesn’t matter,” Professor Tamaki insisted. She could barely keep the glee from her voice. “You’ve already lost, remember? You’ve lost in the ways that count. I’m in control. The rest is just so much inevitability. So why not rest? You want to, Eunji.”
“I… want… to?” Her student’s head was starting to sway in time with the motion of the pocket watch.
“That’s right!” The praise made the corners or Eunji’s eyelids turn upwards. “You want to. Just sit back. Sink. It’s OK. It’s all OK.”
Eunji sank, and started slipping out of her seat and onto the floor. Professor Tamaki didn’t stop her. The sight of her student steadily sinking to her knees as she slipped under hypnosis was making the professor unbelievably wet. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been missing this kind of power trip.
“W-wha?” Eunji murmured blearily.
“It’s time to sleep,” Professor Tamaki told her, putting a little authority back into her voice. Eunji was ready for the finishing blow. “Go to sleep for me, Eunji.”
At that, Eunji let out a sleepy little giggle, her mind left giddy by what was happening to it. “O-on the… floor?”
Professor Tamaki bit her lip, regarding her sleepy, entranced protege thoughtfully. She’d won. She was in control. So why not have a little fun?
“Maybe not,” the professor conceded, likewise giggling. “Maybe I have another assignment for you after all.”
Keeping her watch swinging, she spread her legs pointedly.
It was clear that, from out of the corner of her eye, Eunji could see what the professor was doing and what she intended. She wasn’t wearing any panties, after all, and the glistening wetness coating her inner thighs was clearly visible. Clumsily, as if she was drunk, Eunji shuffled across to kneel between Professor Tamaki’s legs, eyes still upturned to look at the watch.
“This, professor?” Eunji asked. Her voice was empty.
“That’s right.” ‘Professor’. Professor Tamaki found she liked hearing that from Eunji. Maybe she’d gotten a little too informal with her student. Well, there was plenty of time to fix that, now she was comfortably inside Eunji’s head. “Service me.”
“Yes, professor,” Eunji said and lifted a hand to run her fingertips along the professor’s thigh, making her shiver.
Professor Tamaki allowed herself a small moan as Eunji started to touch her pussy. The pleasure she felt was more than just pleasure. It was victory. After letting Eunji take over so many of her brainwashed thralls, she’d almost forgotten the blissful, debauched joy of hypnotizing a new victim and bringing them under her spell, and showing that their new place was worshiping her.
“Does this feel good, professor?” Eunji asked. Even without emotion, the student’s voice had a pleasant, relaxing, lyrical quality.
“Yes,” Professor Tamaki replied dreamily.
It really did feel amazing. The way Eunji was teasing her and letting her pleasure build, drawing her fingertips in slow circles around the professor’s clit, was heaven. Perhaps, she wondered, it was a waste of her student’s talents not to turn her into a sex slave. As smart as she was, perhaps she’d look better drooling her intelligence out all over the floor, incapable of thinking of anything but her owner’s body. Professor Tamaki could just picture it. It seemed perfect.
“Yes,” Eunji repeated emptily. “Feels good. Feels so good. Better than anything. You feel wonderful, professor.”
Professor Tamaki felt wonderful. She let herself slump backwards, relaxing herself to better enjoy her victory. Only her arm holding the pocket watch was kept rigid, the watch still swinging, swinging, swinging so prettily in the light.
“You feel better than ever,” Eunji cooed softly. “And it’s just so easy to give in to pleasure like this, Nagisa. You can’t resist.”
Professor Tamaki frowned, just a little. That didn’t seem right, but she couldn’t quite figure out how. She couldn’t think. She was so relaxed, and somehow all she could focus on was the pocket watch swinging before her eyes.
“And why should you?” Eunji reassured her. “You won, remember? You’re in control. You don’t need to fight anymore. You don’t need to resist anything.”
The professor nodded, relaxing again. Yes. That was right. Eunji was so right.
“There’s simply no need,” Eunji continued, her voice so pleasantly rhythmic. “You don’t need to resist. And that’s good, isn’t it? Because you can’t, you just can’t. You can’t resist this. You can’t resist me.”
That raised some alarm bells. Professor Tamaki could still resist, couldn’t she?
“You’re in control,” her student reminded her. “And if you’re in control, you can’t resist, can you? Control is something you resist. If you’re in control, there’s nothing to resist. So you can’t do it. It wouldn’t make any sense.”
After just a few moments, Professor Tamaki gave up on trying to puzzle out her student’s words. It was too much, with the pretty girl touching her between her legs.
“That’s right, that’s right.” Eunji’s fingertips, brushing against Professor Tamaki’s clit or her wet, needy lips, made her thoughts break apart and fall away before they even formed. “You can’t resist. Can’t resist this pleasure.”
Professor Tamaki nodded, even though she didn’t know why.
“Not after spending so long as a horny, dumb little bimbo professor, anyway.” Eunji giggled. “Even if you don’t think of it quite like that, I know part of you knows I’m right. Part of you remembers. You’ve already proven that you can’t resist, so many times before.”
The hypnotized professor let out a weak mewl. Her body was aching with need now. She wanted more. She wanted to feel Eunji’s tongue, or her fingers inside her. She was thinking about that far more than her student’s words, even though they were setting off all kinds of alarm bells in the back of her head.
“You’ve spent so long not thinking,” Eunji continued. “So long not needing to think. So long letting me do the thinking for you, and showing your body all kinds of new pleasures. Do you know what that means, Nagisa? It means you think with your cunt now.”
“N-no!” Professor Tamaki protested, at last making the effort to rouse herself. All too late, she could see what was happening. She couldn’t believe she’d been so foolish. She needed to fight. “That’s- f-fuck!”
Her protests dissolved into helpless, shameful moaning as her student buried two of her fingers inside the professor’s needy, dripping slit.
The professor had never felt something so intense. Her whole body rocked and twitched as if she’d been struck by lighting. She tried to keep protesting, tried to insist on her control, but all her words turned into so much profanity and weak whining.
“See?” Eunji told her, her voice growing in strength as she shook off her daze. She started slowly moving her fingers in and out of Professor Tamaki, and that only made the professor’s plight more desperate. “You can’t think. Not when I’m touching you down here. I’ve trained you far too well. Poor Nagisa. You never had a chance.”
Resistance was rapidly slipping through Professor Tamaki’s fingertips. She just couldn’t think. It was exactly as Eunji said. She couldn’t even make herself close her eyes. All she could do was keep moaning and keep staring at the pocket watch swinging in her own hand, knowing full well what its soothing, hypnotic rhythm was doing to her.
“Well, maybe that’s not completely true,” Eunji conceded. “I wasn’t pretending, you know. You almost had me. Almost. You’re very good, Nagisa. For a moment, I regretted leaving those skills of yours intact. But now, they’re all mine.”
Professor Tamaki was panting to breathe. Protesting was beyond impossible. She was helpless. She’d lost, just like that. Her defeat was completely undeniable. Her pride, suddenly stoked into a blaze, had now been smothered and crushed, and she was sinking back into the pleasant, dull haze she’d lived with for weeks. Of course she’d lost. Of course Eunji had beaten her. Eunji was so beautiful. So smart. So skilled. The professor knew she could trust her with anything. A slow smile spread across Professor Tamaki’s face, despite her distress. She could even trust her favorite student with her mind.
“You see?” Eunji continued, noting the way her hypnosis was warping her professor’s mind. “Isn’t this better? Isn’t my control better?”
Professor Tamaki found herself nodding dully. All the words Eunji had ever spoken to her under hypnosis were echoing in her head like a choir-song. It felt so right. It seemed so easy to let it all just wash over her. With her pocket watch still swinging in her hands, conducting the music of Eunji’s words, how could she do anything else? As she watched the pocket watch, paralyzed, Eunji raised herself up on her knees, sliding carefully on the couch, pressing up against her professor without obscuring the watch, and without removing her fingers from Professor Tamaki’s pussy.
“I know, I know,” Eunji cooed, in response to one of her professor’s moans. “It’s better when you think with your cunt, isn’t it? Much better than trying to be the one in charge. You can let your cunt think for you, and you can let me take care of your cunt.”
Once again, the professor nodded senselessly. Her failed pride was turning in on itself, becoming scornful and self-recriminating. How could she have ever thought she could win? Eunji was so much better than her. Eunji should have been in charge all along. The trance-drunk professor let out a dizzy, moaning giggle. It seemed so ridiculously obvious now.
“It’s all about control.” Eunji’s fingers were moving expertly in and out of Professor Tamaki’s pussy, sending her spiraling constantly down deeper and deeper into need and helpless obedience. “Just like you told me, Nagisa. Who’s in control of who? You had control. But then you told me to start pleasuring your cunt. You just couldn’t help it, could you? You couldn’t resist your own pleasure. And now? Now I control your cunt.”
To drive the point home, she inserted another finger. Professor Tamaki’s moans turned higher-pitched.
“It makes perfect sense,” Eunji told her firmly, and Professor Tamaki nodded. “So. Say it. Be a good girl for me. You like doing that. Your cunt likes that.”
The professor could feel herself on the edge of breaking, but she obeyed anyway. Obedience was automatic. It was simple. It was all she was capable of.
“M-my c-cunt controls… me,” she panted, slurring the words hopelessly between moaning. “A-and… you… you control my cunt.”
“Good girl,” Eunji purred, and rewarded her by kissing her neck passionately and possessively enough to leave a bright, red hickey. “Again.”
“M-my cunt controls me,” Professor Tamaki repeated, and with each repetition, she could feel it becoming more and more true. “And you control my c-cunt.”
“Once more.” Eunji’s voice, too, was thick with arousal. “I want to hear you give in to me, just one more time.”
“My cunt controls me!” Professor Tamaki chanted ecstatically. She could barely see. The room around her was blurred. Only the swinging arc of the pocket watch felt real. Drool was hanging from her lips as she moaned. “And you control my cunt!”
“Good!” Eunji seized urgently on Professor Tamaki’s submission, keen to land the killing blow. Her fingers doubled in pace, her thumb stroking the professor’s needy clit as she pounded her other digits in and out of the hypnotized woman hard enough to make her see stars. “You’re ready. Aren’t you? Remember our agreement, Nagisa. Remember the terms of this exam. When you go into trance, that’s it. I’ll be the one in control. Forever.”
Professor Tamaki nodded fervently. It already felt true. She was Eunji’s. She belonged to her student.
“Now,” Eunji said, a lustful, victorious, slightly manic grin coming to her face. “Cum!”
The professor, already hopelessly under Eunji’s spell, came instantly. The orgasm was intense and devastating, making her scream loud enough and shiver hard enough that her pocket watch, at last, slipped out of rhythm. Now, Professor Tamaki saw white. It was just as Eunji had said. Her cunt controlled her. She couldn’t resist this pleasure. She wanted more; all she wanted was more. And Eunji could give her that. Eunji controlled her cunt.
It was blissfully, perfectly simple.
As soon as the orgasm truly hit, Eunji was right there in front of her, prying the pocket watch from Professor Tamaki’s unresistant hands and biting her lip as she watched her professor cum her brains out all over her fingers. Then, once she’d tucked the pocket watch away, she lifted her hand.
“Snap,” she said playfully.
She snapped her fingers. And that was the last thing Professor Tamaki saw. Her eyes fell shut and she slipped into a pure, blank trance, knowing full well what it meant: from now on, her life was devoted to Eunji.
She slept with a smile on her face.
Eunji smiled as she sat at Nagisa’s desk in Nagisa’s home - or at her desk and her home, as they now were - working. There was lots to do. Taking over Nagisa’s ‘network’ had put a fair amount on her plate. Even though she wasn’t interested in expanding it, managing a whole throng of brainwashed minions was no simple task. Eunji, however, was perfectly confident that she was equal to it, and motivation wasn’t hard to find. Even if she didn’t have her professor’s world-conquering ambitions, having a number of hot, powerful women at her beck and call was more than enough incentive.
Not that she was getting much work done at that precise moment. Not with her favorite, live-in pets worshiping between her thighs.
“Good girls,” Eunji purred softly, reaching down to pet their heads. She was rewarded by their smiling, happy faces, looking up at her adoringly.
The two of them - Miri and Nagisa - made quite a pair. Miri was still every bit the perfect bimbo Nagisa had made her into, with blonde hair, plump lips, and a hefty pair of tits that Eunji made sure were always kept on display. There was no reason for her to mess with her professor’s handiwork. Nagisa, by comparison, was a touch older and more professional - she had dark hair (albeit in pigtails) and wore a tight-fitting, slutty blazer rather than just a pink push-up bra. Both of them, though, were equally as much bimbos as one another, and both of them were equally devoted to Eunji.
The student had to admit, though, that Nagisa was the crown jewel of her little collection. She couldn’t help playing favorites. After all, she’d made the professor this way herself, and reaped plenty of rewards. Who would have thought that the predatory woman’s attempts to hypnotize her would have led to all this? Eunji liked to think, though, that Nagisa was happier this way. No more stress or sternness. No more grand plans for wealth and influence. As far as she was concerned, she had delegated everything to Eunji, which meant that she was free to spend all of her time however she wanted.
Which meant she spent most of her days under Eunji’s desk, eating her out.
“Alright,” Eunji said, a touch breathlessly. “That’s enough, girls.”
“Yes, Eunji!” they sang out. Both Miri and Nagisa drew back and stood up - although not before turning to one another and sharing a deep, passionate, messy kiss, both of their faces slick with Eunji’s juices.
Eunji giggled at the sight, rewarding them for their enthusiasm with a few more pets.
“Miri, remember to go to cheer practice today,” she told the bimbo. “And Nagisa, I believe you still have some papers to grade?”
“Yes, Eunji!” her pets repeated, ever-glad to be eager and obedient for her.
“Good girls,” Eunji said, and they both shivered at the praise. “But don’t take too long,” she added to Nagisa, licking her lips and winking. “I want you back here with me soon. I need my professor to help keep me warm in bed.”
Professor Nagisa Tamaki, once a masterfully-domineering hypnotist and the terror of her freshman classes, responded with nothing but a ditsy giggle and a cutesy pose.
“Anything for my favorite student!”