He didn’t feel guilty.
That was probably the strangest part. It wasn’t that only eight hours ago, he had impulsively entranced Chelsea in public; it wasn’t that he had forced her to strip and masturbate in front of him; it wasn’t even that it seemed he was successful in permanently altering her memory.
No. What really stuck out to him was how normal it all felt.
Of course, there was fear, at first. He had practically sprinted out of the Undergrind Café, afraid that at any moment he would get a furious call from Chelsea, or turn and see her stalking him with vengeance in her eyes. But instead, the morning passed without incident into the afternoon. By the time he arrived at the evening theater club meeting, Seb had almost convinced himself that he had done it: he had navigated the fateful meeting of Chelsea and Sophia without any harsh consequences. Sure, he had to cross a few lines to do so…
…But it sure didn’t feel that way.
Seb shifted his seat as the club president droned on, the tile floor providing little in the way of cushioning or comfort. Even though it was technically their “club room,” the space was more like a storage area in the dormitory basement, with brick walls and exposed piping running across the ceiling. Still, the Diepner Players had worked to make the place feel like a home, hanging thrift store paintings and cast photos where they could and jamming overstuffed furniture where it would fit. Normally, these accommodations were enough for the “executive board” meetings, but these open sessions left many of the attendees clustered on the floor, listening to debates about future productions and fundraisers.
Not that Seb minded that much. His presence in the club was more of a social excuse anyway. He never played any major production roles, nor did he hold particularly strong opinions on the logistics of each show. That was all Miki and Tobias, the former of whom had managed to get herself elected Treasurer last year, despite being a freshman. She had come to the meeting with an agenda—Seb was just there for moral support. Which gave him time to think.
And wonder if the Vox wasn’t having a greater effect on him than he thought.
Previously, even using it in semi-controlled circumstances would leave him with lingering doubts and guilt for days. Yet after the initial panic had faded, this morning’s session had become more or less a mundane memory. He could make himself feel bad about it if he tried, reflecting on the various social, cultural and ethical rules he had broken. But the moment that fixation faded, so too did the guilt. And Seb was hard pressed to retain it.
Especially when he was this hard.
Seb adjusted his position again, awkwardly navigating around the erection that had been straining his pants the whole meeting. Bailing out on Chelsea had prevented him from pushing her boundaries further, but it had also left the Vox horribly unsatisfied. Masturbating in his room had helped, but now he was trapped in a tiny space with a crowd of cute girls, many of whom were showing more skin than normal to compensate for the unseasonably warm September air. Miki was no exception—she had probably chosen her tiny gym shorts for comfort, but the looseness of the fabric and Seb’s position on the floor meant he could see far up her slender thighs every time she crossed them, occasionally catching a glimpse of her white panties as well.
It was a libido pressure cooker. Seb found himself hyper aware of every movement, every sigh from his overheating peers. Normally Seb had to concentrate to get the Vox to come out—now it was an almost dizzying effort to keep it in. So he kept reflecting on his lack of remorse, kept trying to guilt-trip his way out of the horny haze. But doing so would often lead to memories of Chelsea’s vacant expression, the way she had recited mantras of submission in his name, the way her body quivered at the slightest suggestion of his touch, the way her tits…
The president slapped his laptop shut, cuing everybody to stand and head for the door. Seb belatedly realized the meeting must be over, and breathed a short-lived sigh of relief. He had made it through this trial, but the Vox needed an outlet. Its dark waters were roiling inside of him, threatening to spill out every time he opened his mouth. If he didn’t find a way to drain them soon…
“Seb! How’d the reunion go?” Miki practically tackled him before the door, her eyes shining with anticipation. “Did Sophia show up like she said she would? What was she like? Has she put on weight? I want all the deets.”
“Uh, er,” Seb’s temperature sky-rocketed, Miki’s hand on his shoulder almost boiling over his brain.
Fortunately, Tobias came to the rescue, gently pulling her back. “Easy, babe, you’re gonna knock him over. I’m sure it’s nothing to get that excited over.” His smile was easygoing, but his pupils brimmed with the same eagerness as his girlfriend.
Seb coughed, stalling for time. “W-well it went about how you would expect.”
“And what does that mean?” Miki demanded. “Did you let her have it like I said you should?”
“N-no it wasn’t like that.” Seb hastily answered. “We just talked. It was fine. We’re, um, we’re good.”
Miki didn’t miss a beat. “Good? What’s ‘good?’ Are you guys friends again? Lovers? Something in between?”
Her face was so close to him now. It would be so easy to just whisper a choice word or two in her ear and… “I gotta run,” Seb said. “I’ll tell you guys all about it soon,” he quickly added as he stumbled out into the hall.
“It’s all good, Seb,” Tobias replied, placing a hand on Miki’s shoulder so she wouldn’t give chase. “We can wait till whenever you’re comfortable.”
Seb offered a parting smile and nod as he left.
Inside, he bleakly wondered if he would ever be comfortable again.
“I-I appreciate the invite,” Seb smiled uneasily. “But I really do have work I need to get done.”
“C’mon bro, it’ll be fun,” Ben pressed, rocking anxiously on his bed. “You, like, barely ever go out. What’s the point of college if you’re gonna spend Saturday nights cooped up in your dorm?”
In all honesty, after everything that had happened to Seb the past couple days, a night alone to reflect and wrestle the Vox under control sounded like exactly what he needed. Yet no sooner had he returned to his dorm then his roommate had rushed to invite him to some house party they absolutely “had” to go to that night. Seb had, of course, politely turned him down—Ben was an alright guy, but it had become clear early in the semester that his idea of “fun” did not line up with Seb’s.
“Trust me, you don’t want to see me at parties,” Seb tried a different tack. “I’d only drag you and Phil down.”
“Well, uh, that’s the thing.” Ben scratched his neck awkwardly. “Funny story. Phil and I actually went out last weekend and ran into that Chelsea chick. And Phil was like, totally wasted, and started saying stupid shit, and we got kicked out.”
The hairs on Seb’s neck stood up on end. “What did Phil say?” he asked.
“I dunno man, dumb stuff,” Ben fumed. “He was being such an asshole, bro. Even I know you don’t fuckin’ drag a girl at her own sorority party. Anyway, the point is: I just need a break from Phil for a sec, but I can NOT show up to this party alone, y’know?”
“Uh, sure,” Seb lied.
“Look bro, I’m tellin’ ya, this is exactly what you need,” his roommate continued. "Loosen up! Let that brain of yours rest for a night. Maybe get some action? I’ll totally wingman for you if you come. Scout’s honor.”
“Eh-heh. That…” Seb paused.
Wait a second.
Maybe that WAS exactly what he needed.
A house party. A place where he would be anonymous. A night full of drunk partygoers who wouldn’t look twice at some drowsy girl hanging on his every word. And girls who wouldn’t think twice about feeling weirdly attracted to a stranger for a night. It was the perfect venue for testing and satisfying the Vox. No complications, no hang-ups, no baggage. Seb would be just another pleasant, fuzzy memory after a night engineered to evoke them.
Ben arched his eyebrows expectantly. “Looks like someone’s thinkin’ about iiiit, am I right?”
Seb laughed sheepishly, hoping to hide the dark anticipation beating in his chest. “Alright, alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Without even entering the house, Seb could already tell why this was Ben’s kind of party.
The two-story home was situated in Powelltown, a subdivision set slightly outside of the official Diepner campus. It was a popular housing locale for upperclassman hoping to cut loose, its relatively remote location and majority student population ensuring that ragers could continue till dawn without pissing off the neighbors. In fact, they were more likely to join in on the fun instead.
Bass beats shook the soles of Seb’s shoes as he mounted the porch steps, suddenly reminding him why he tended to avoid parties in the first place. They were like arenas outside of the everyday, where the normal modes of communication gave way to fast impressions based on instincts and social codes Seb had never quite mastered. He needed time to think. To process. Powelltown parties were engineered to prevent that.
“This is so sick, bro.” Ben was practically bouncing in place as he held the door open for Seb. “You won’t regret it, promise.” Seb could only manage a weak nod in response.
Was this stupid? Was this insane? Going to a strange party full of strange people, all in the hopes of getting the chance to mind control one of them without being noticed? Would they even be able to hear the Vox over the music? What if it didn’t work, and he just ended up outing himself as a creep?
Sound and sweat pressed in on all sides as Seb followed Ben down a narrow hallway deeper into the house, eventually reaching the kitchen where all the drinks were. Before Seb had even caught his breath, a red plastic cup was in his hands, brimming with a neon orange drink Ben had unhelpfully labeled “Powelltown Punch.”
“Cheers, bro.” Ben tunked the lip of his cup on Seb’s and threw back a hearty gulp. Seb took a timid sip in response, still playing catch-up. The drink tasted like someone dumped a year’s supply of Pixie Sticks in a vat of Hi-C.
Before Seb could ask what exactly was in the concoction, his roommate suddenly went rigid, his back perfectly straight and his eyes fixed ahead, looking not unlike a meercat in a rumpled flannel.
“Oh shit,” he said, seemingly more to himself than Seb. “She’s really here.”
Seb felt his blood freeze over. No. Surely not again. “Wh-who’s here?” he asked.
“Nathalie bro,” Ben answered. “She’s this mad-hot chick in my biology lecture. I heard her talking about this party and thought this might be my chance.” He took another drink, his gaze still fixed across the room.
Seb followed his eyes to a curvy girl in a low-cut t-shirt standing in the living room. She talked animatedly to her friends, not missing a beat in their conversation as she whipped her dark, slightly curly hair over her shoulder. Seb could see why she would become a fixation for Ben: there was a relaxed cheerfulness to her movements, and her laugh was loud enough to reach both boys even across the hall.
So this is why they “had” to come to this party. And why Ben couldn’t show up alone. “Let’s go talk to her,” Ben said, already nudging Seb out of the kitchen.
“C’mon, there’re other girls over there too.”
Seb swallowed. Why did the prospect of accosting them suddenly seem so terrifying? “Y-you can go without me, I’ll just finish my drink.”
Ben scoffed, thumping Seb on the shoulder. “Bro, you have got to relax. I dunno if Chelsea was your first female experience or what but most girls aren’t lookin’ to mess with you. They just wanna have a good time like everyone else—what’s the worst that could happen, right?”
Seb blinked, taken aback.
What was the worst that could happen? What on earth could a handful of tipsy strangers do to him that was worse than Chelsea’s wrath? Looking at it that way, he should have nothing to fear…right?
“Okay,” Seb nodded. “Let’s go.”
Ben whacked him on the back one more time, ushering the two of them across the hall and into the girls’ orbits.
“Oh shit, no way,” Ben exclaimed, as though the sudden sight of Nathalie had halted him in his tracks. “It’s Nathalie, right?”
Nathalie’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before bouncing high as her expression brightened. “Oh hey…Ben, right? From biology?”
“Nailed it,” Ben offered his hand for a fist-bump, which Nathalie returned with a giggle. “And this is my friend, Seb.”
“Uh, hey.” Seb offered a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same.” Nathalie returned the wave before introducing her compatriots, an auburn-haired girl named Jessica and her sporty companion, Bea. Seb exchanged faltering pleasantries with the two of them before Ben took control of the conversation, bantering loudly with Nathalie and more or less pushing everyone else to the sidelines. Seb tried his best to interject a laugh or a remark where he could, but it was clear he wasn’t making much of an impression, nor did he have much in common with anyone in the lopsided little cluster.
Should he try to deploy the Vox now? The thought crossed his mind in a flash, but he just as quickly knocked it down. The whole point of coming to the party was to trance an anonymous subjects without further repercussions. Even from their limited interaction, Jessica and Bea now knew too much for him to make a clean post-Vox break, and if Nathalie and Ben ended up together, there was more than a small chance Seb would be crossing paths with this group again in the future.
This initial engagement wasn’t going to get him anywhere. So, satisfied he had fulfilled his obligation to Ben and announcing that he was getting another drink, Seb extracted himself from the room.
His retreat took him back towards the main hall, his eyes scanning for possible subjects as he moved to the other end of the house. Unfortunately, finding a target was proving to be a daunting task. Most of the girls he passed were already chatting it up with a guy or otherwise surrounded by a gaggle of friends. In either case, approaching them as a lone, male stranger seemed ill-advised. Even with the supposed armor of his anonymity, Seb still found the prospect of making a fool of himself nauseating.
He could always take his chances with the dance floor in the basement, if worse came to worse. But he wasn’t much of a dancer in the first place, and he was still worried about his ability to be heard over the pounding music. If he got close enough, maybe he could deploy the Vox safely but…
Seb felt his grip on his cup tighten, and almost laughed. Here he was, a man with the secret ability to control people’s minds, paralyzed at the thought of what most normal guys did every Saturday. He could almost hear the Vox thrashing in frustration, clawing at the fears and anxieties he had spent his whole adolescence solidifying. Well, it was no surprise: when it came to irrational urges controlling his body, the Vox was merely the newest addition, and there was plenty of competition.
A cheer to Seb’s right snapped him out of his spinning thoughts. He had wandered into what must’ve been the dining room, but the central table had been commandeered and repurposed, serving now as the field for that most venerable collegiate sport:
Seb stopped in his tracks, watching with a handful of other spectators as a snap-back wearing man and his tank-topped companion arced a perfect shot into the opposing female duo’s lineup, forcing them to squeal, laugh, and then drink the targeted cup. Seb smirked to himself, recalling his own attempt at the game his freshman year, a hilarious failure that ended in Miki and Tobias absolutely dominating the table, leaving Seb too wasted to make a move on the teammate his friends had set him up with. Ah well. That was how it went when…
A bolt of inspiration struck. Seb snapped his gaze away from the table and onto the surrounding crowd, hoping he could capitalize on the sudden brainwave before he could second-guess it.
There: sulking in the corner of the room, biting absently on the lip of her cup. She looked like she must be around Seb’s age, her dirty blonde hair tied in a half-ponytail, her large, dark eyes following the ball back and forth, her glossy lips posed in a slight frown. She had clearly come to this house ready to party, but something must’ve gone amiss in her night. Maybe her friends had paired off with dance partners, leaving her to aimlessly kill time somewhere else. Maybe she had come pursuing a beau of her own, only to lose the chance or lose her nerve. Whatever the backstory, Seb had ascertained at least two important facts:
First, she was attractive. She didn’t have Chelsea’s beauty or Sophia’s body, but there was no denying the allure of her tennis-player figure, her small breasts and firm ass perfectly packaged by her cut-off jeans and form-fitting t-shirt tied above her midriff.
Secondly, she was alone. With seemingly no other supervisor or chaperone in sight. Seb had to move now before that changed. Fortunately, the beginnings of a plan had already formed in his mind.
“E-excuse me,” he said, approaching her. “Are you, uh, waiting for the next game?”
“Hm?” She blinked, having apparently been lost in her own thoughts. “Oh, no. You can go ahead of me or whatever.”
“Thanks, but I-I, actually don’t have a teammate,” Seb admitted, forcing disarming smile through the rising terror in his gut. “Would it be crazy to ask you to join me?”
God it was disconcerting how easily the Vox slipped out of his mouth. The girl’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Seb was worried he had already overplayed his hand. But then her eyelids fluttered, and a familiar dullness entered her voice. “Huh?” she said vacantly before recovering herself. “Uh, no. It wouldn’t be…”
“Fantastic,” Seb pressed closer, hoping speed would make up for his lack of grace. “Let’s team up then. What’s your name?”
“Uh, sure. I’m Tiffany.” the girl answered. “And you are?”
“Se—er, I mean Tobias,” Seb answered, using the first false name that popped into his head.
“Wait, what?” Tiffany’s eyes narrowed.
Shit. This wasn’t exactly the smooth seduction he envisioned. “My name’s Tobias. It’s great to meet you.”
Tiffany’s chin dipped slightly, before bouncing back up. “Um. Great to meet you too,” she replied. Then she blinked, and looked away with an awkward giggle.
“Wh-what’s up?” Seb asked.
“Uhh…I dunno.” She looked at him and tilted her head with a bemused smirk. “You’re just…kinda weird, y’know?”
Seb clenched his jaw. Ordinarily, this would be the point he would give up and flee back to the drink table in shame. But the Vox rooted him in place, forced him to look his subject in the eye. “You’re kinda weird too,” he said with a playful smirk. “I think we’ll make a great team, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Tiffany answered automatically, her pupils briefly un-focusing as they gazed into his.
“That’s the spirit,” Seb pointed to her cup. “What are you drinking?”
She looked down, as though having to remind herself. “It’s the, uh, the punch, I guess?”
“The famous ‘Powelltown Punch?’” Seb offered with a small laugh.
To his relief, she smiled. “Yep. That’s the one.” Against all odds, she seemed to be accepting the Vox without noticing its influence. Which meant it was time for the first real test.
“Sounds good.” Seb extended his hand. “Here. Let me refill that for you. You stay here and hold our spot.”
“O-okay.” She nodded, a loose smile on her lips. “Don’t take too long.”
Seb waited until he was back in the kitchen to breathe a sigh of relief. So far so good. He doubted Tiffany was entranced enough to accept commands unquestioningly yet, but there would be time for that so long as he kept this pace up. If his theory was correct, it wouldn’t be long until she was hanging on his every word.
Seb chanced a look back into the living room as he finished refilling their drinks. Nathalie and Ben were lounging on a couch now, with the latter not-so-subtly draping his arm around the back. Fortunately, his partner didn’t seem to mind. Good. If Ben struck out and decided it was time to leave, it would throw the whole night off. For once, Seb was praying his roommate’s seduction skills didn’t fail him.
Tiffany was waiting by the table as Seb returned, the other team having apparently lost in the intervening time. “Took you long enough,” she said, nodding towards the already-arranged cups. “We’re up. You any good at this?”
“Well, it’s uh, been a while,” Seb admitted. The fact that she was still here was a good sign, but he shouldn’t give her too long to process. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax, and we’ll do great.”
“Great…” Tiffany repeated, her eyes briefly clouded with confusion as Seb handed back her drink.
“Cheers,” Seb said, tapping his cup against hers. “Bottoms up.”
Tiffany rose the punch to her lips, her expression relaxing as she followed his suggestion. It was as Seb suspected: the more she followed the Vox’s commands, the easier it became for her to do so. The alcohol was probably helping as well, dimming her ability for critical thinking, making obedience the path of least resistance. Hopefully Seb could keep her on it.
“You guys ready?” The snapback-sporting player asked, bouncing the ping-pong ball impatiently. “Or do we gotta explain the house rules again?”
“That’s, uh, that’s okay.” Seb answered. “Tiffany, they already explained it to you, right? Why don’t you tell me?”
“Two re-racks allowed, diamond, zipper, or pyramid,” the blonde answered. “No run-backs, no ‘on-fire’ bonus.”
“Gotcha,” Seb replied. And then, deciding to test the waters, he added with a wink. “Good girl.”
The split second it took for her to react felt like an eternity. But to Seb’s relief, she giggled and gave him a playful shove. “God. Shut up, weirdo.”
Seb laughed along, even as his mind raced to adjust his calculations. It seemed Tiffany wasn’t far gone enough to just dully accept his pet-talk, and she had enough awareness to even teasingly push back. But she also didn’t seem to mind being called his “good girl,” a reaction he doubted she would normally exhibit towards a complete stranger. The momentum was on Seb’s side. But he would have to manage it carefully.
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself, Seb thought as he watched Tiffany line up her first shot, her thong poking out ever-so-slightly from her shorts as she leaned forward to get a better angle. She tossed the ball towards the cups, only for it to sail right over them.
“Ah, shit!” She scrunched up her face. “I’m really bad at this.”
“It’s alright,” Seb placed a hand on her shoulder. “There’s no pressure. We’re just having fun, right?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. Seb felt the tension in her muscles ease. The Vox purred with delight.
“That’s right. Just relax,” he murmured as the other team lined up the shot. “Go with the flow. It’s all part of the game.”
“Part of the game…” Tiffany echoed softly.
*Tunk* The ping-pong ball arced into their formation. Tank-top and Snapback cheered.
Tiffany stared at the scored cup, her mind appearing to take a moment to process what had just happened. “Oh, shit. They, like…”
“Would you mind taking this first one?” Seb asked.
“Okay,” Tiffany agreed, taking the ball out of the cup and draining its contents.
“Mm!” Tiffany sputtered, spilling a little beer on herself. “Stoooop. You’re gonna make me choke!”
“Sorry,” Seb grinned, noting with pleasure that her nipples had stiffened under her shirt.
“J-just take your shot already,” Tiffany quickly gestured towards the table, apparently realizing herself the effect Seb’s comment had had on her.
Seb took up position, trying his best to line up his aim with the opposing cups. Whether or not he and Tiffany won didn’t really matter, but he needed to make sure the game lasted long enough for him to fully pull her under his power. Plus, losing too quickly would mean pounding a bunch of beers himself. Seb wasn’t sure how alcohol impacted his ability to use the Vox, but loosening his control over it couldn’t be good.
Seb’s first shot was a miss but, to his relief, the rebuttal also went wide. Which meant Tiffany was up again.
“You got this,” Seb intoned. “Just focus on the cups and my voice. Let all other thoughts go. You will make this shot. Say it with me.”
“I will make this shot,” Tiffany repeated flatly, her arm throwing arm perfectly still.
“Good.” Seb paused, an idea suddenly occurring to him. “Now sink it,” he commanded.
Tiffany let the ball fly. Seb watched as it arced perfectly towards the opposing side, before bouncing off the lip of the nearest-most cup.
“Noooo,” Tiffany whimpered.
“Nice try.” Seb crossed his arms. A part of him had hoped that the Vox would somehow fix her aim, but it looked like his power didn’t work that way. Apparently, he could influence his subjects and control aspects of their bodies they themselves had agency over, but he couldn’t create skills that they didn’t already have. At least, not at this stage. Further testing might be needed before he could say for sure if…
“Nnn…” Tiffany groaned, snapping Seb out of his thoughts. She rubbed her arms restlessly, a pained expression on her face.
“Are you okay?” Seb asked, concerned. Had he pushed too hard, too fast?
“I-I dunno,” she grimaced. “I thought I had it. What’s wrong with me?”
Ah, of course. How could Seb have forgotten? “It’s okay,” he assured her. “Just take a deep breath. You’re doing great. We’re having fun, remember?”
Tiffany exhaled, the discomfort vanishing from her expression. “Yes…we’re having fun.”
Seb stifled a relieved sigh of his own. He should’ve known—subjects under hypnosis would sometimes report feeling uncomfortable or anxious if they were given a suggestion that was too confusing or difficult to carry out. Even if the Vox didn’t cleanly conform to the mechanisms of hypnotic trance, there was some carryover. The induction of Tiffany was going well, but Seb would still have to monitor her progress closely.
That was his plan. And for the majority of the game, Seb stuck to it, alternating doses of the Vox with whatever casual banter he could manage. But as the game went on, so too did the amount of alcohol passing his lips. As his brain started to buzz with boozy confidence, a part of him considered cajoling Tiffany into taking all of their penalty drinks, saving him the trouble and hastening her surrender to his power. But he worried that would look too obvious and sketchy. Plus, he was kinda enjoying the intoxicating warmth, the way the Vox was easily gliding from his tongue into Tiffany’s head.
By the time each team was down to their last cup, Seb wasn’t even bothering switching the Vox off anymore. He stood behind Tiffany as the opposing team lined up their shot, his hands on her limp shoulders, his mouth inches from her ear.
“You’re doing amazing, Tiffany,” he cooed. “Just keep breathing. In and out. Let everything else go. Nothing matters but my voice and this moment we share. You feel it, don’t you?”
“Yesss…” Tiffany breathed. She had stopped making snarky comments and confused observations at the halfway point, her speech now comprised mainly of dreamy affirmations and pleased vocalizations.
“That’s right. This is all part of the game. It’s all part of the fun. Just trust and listen.”
Snapback made his throw. The shot missed, bouncing off of Tiffany’s midriff before rolling on the table to a stop. Her glassy eyes fixed on the ball, but she didn’t move. Not without Seb’s command.
“Pick up the ball,” he ordered.
“Hey, wait!” the tank-top wearing player shouted. “It’s not her turn, bro—it’s yours!”
“Dude, just let ‘em,” Snapback snickered. “She’s so fucking drunk. Just look at her.”
Seb felt a twinge of annoyance at the laughter of his rivals, but quickly pushed it aside. At least they didn’t seem to suspect anything was amiss. And Tiffany had long passed the point of suspecting anything: her droopy gaze was fixed on the lone remaining cup at the end of the table, lips pursed into a frown as she struggled to concentrate.
“That’s good, just like that,” Seb gently rubbed her shoulders. “Relax. Don’t think. Feel. I know you can make it. Trust in my words and my voice. You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yess…trust…” she answered, her pointy breasts rising and falling as her breathing slowed.
“Very good,” Seb smiled. “Now aim. Picture the arc in your mind.”
“Oh my god,” their belligerent opposition huffed. “Just fucking throw it already!”
“Remember how the last throw felt. Remember the energy flowing from your hand,” Seb continued, running his own hand along her arm. He could feel it. The way her body was responding to his words. The way she subconsciously adjusted her aim, the way her muscles tensed and relaxed in accordance with his wishes, even as her gaze seemed miles away. It was all coming together, just as he planned. “Now...throw.”
The moment the ball left her fingers, Seb could tell it was a perfect shot. It sailed gracefully through the air, landing right in the center of the opposing team’s cup, barely making a splash. They shouted and groaned in defeat, but Seb was barely paying them mind anymore. Instead, he put his lips to Tiffany’s ear, and breathed two simple words:
Her body melted without hesitation. She let out a soft moan, gliding back into his arms. Her ass pressing against the bulge in his jeans, her head resting just below his collar, her breath on his neck as she gazed up at him. Her lips parted, struggling to form words. But her eyes told Seb all he needed to know. Her training was complete. She wanted to be his. Wanted to…
Seb started, almost dropping Tiffany as he turned towards the sound. Fortunately, she had the presence of mind to hold herself up, though she still gripped his arm tightly for support.
Another girl bounded through the crowd towards them, wearing an open blouse tied into crop-top, her pink bra and tits almost jiggling free from the loose fabric. “Oh, hey girl, who’s this?” the new arrival asked, pushing her dark bangs out of her eyes to get a good look at Seb.
“Tiffany, is this a friend of yours?” Seb asked, too drunk on booze and power to remember the fake name he had given earlier.
“Yes…Roxy…” Tiffany answered with a simple smile. Shit, Seb realized. She was too far gone to act normally.
Roxy shot a concerned look at her listing friend. “Shit, Tiff, you’re, like, even drunker than I am.” She looked up at Seb. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” Seb nodded. “We were just playing beer pong together. We were having fun, right Tiffany?”
“Mhmm.” Tiffany giggled.
Seb turned back to Roxy, hoping this would be a satisfying answer. But the other girl was blinking rapidly, her brow furrowed with confusion.
“Uh, whoa,” she said. “What are you, like…doing with your voice?”
Seb felt the air squeezed from his lungs in an instant. He had forgotten to switch the Vox off. He wasn’t subtly slipping it into Roxy’s mind like he had with Tiffany—he was practically brute-forcing his words into her consciousness. And she could tell.
His mind kicked into overdrive, racing through the beer-soaked fog. His instincts told him that the jig was up, that this situation was too volatile and he was too intoxicated to safely manage it. If he ran now, he could probably escape without any further consequences.
But his body remained rigid and still. The hunger inside him forbade him from turning away, forced him to look deep into Roxy’s eyes. She wasn’t a threat, the Vox assured him. She was an opportunity. It was she who was off-balance; she who had unwittingly stumbled into trouble. All he had to do was stand his ground. And she would soon kneel before him.
Seb clenched his fist, forcing an expression of arch surprise on his face. “My voice?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I-it’s weird,” Roxy answered, her uncertain gaze remaining fixed on his as he drew closer. “I dunno, it just sounds all…echo-y and…”
“Are you sure?” Seb asked with a leading smile. “Listen closely. Are you sure it’s not just in your head?”
“U-um…” Roxy stared up at him, her mouth opening and closing uselessly. “I…I don’t…”
“Tiffany, there’s nothing wrong with my voice, is there?”
“No,” the dazed blonde shook her head.
“See?” Seb turned back to Roxy with a grin. “You must be imagining things. Everything is as it should be.”
“I-it is?” Roxy clenched her eyes shut. “W-wait. This is weird. Something’s not…”
“Relax,” Seb breathed, gently resting a hand on her hip. “We’re all just having fun here. Right Tiffany?” He gestured for the blonde to join them.
“Yes…” Tiffany answered, stepping beside Seb and draping an arm on Roxy’s shoulder. “We’re just having fun…”
“Fun…?” Roxy echoed, her voice wavering, caught between her enthralled friend and Seb’s soothing words.
“That’s right. That’s why you came out here tonight, isn’t it?” Seb pressed, gently working with Tiffany to guide Roxy to a secluded corner of the room. “You want to have fun, don’t you?”
“Y-yes…” Roxy slumped against the wall, pressing her knuckle into her forehead. “But…”
“Doesn’t Tiffany seem like she’s having fun?”
Roxy shifted her gaze, her conflicted eyes now locking on Tiffany’s blissed-out, half-lidded expression. “I…I guess…” the brunette answered.
Seb subtly nudged them closer and lowered his voice, creating an intimate pocket of warmth between the trio. “I wonder what would happen if you tried to be more like Tiffany?” the Vox rumbled in his throat. “What would happen if you stopped worrying so much, and just let yourself have fun? What would that look like? What would that feel like?”
“Huhhh…” Roxy let out a long breath of languid air. Her shoulders slumped, her eyelids drooping, her face subconsciously drifting closer to Tiffany’s as she mirrored her open-mouthed appearance.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yesss….” Roxy drawled.
“That’s right. You came here to let go and have fun. And that’s exactly what you’re doing now. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to think.”
A flicker of her old concern passed through Roxy’s face. “Don’t have to…think?”
“Precisely.” Seb silently cursed himself for his impatience. “It’s much easier and more fun to just stop thinking for a night. Isn’t that right, Tiffany?”
“Uh-huuhh,” Tiffany answered with a loopy smile.
“See? You trust Tiffany don’t you?”
“I…” Roxy blinked rapidly, only for her expression to slump back into a weary reflection of Tiffany’s. “Yesss….”
“And Tiffany, you trust me, right?”
“Yes…I trust you…” Tiffany affirmed.
“Then that means you must trust me too, doesn’t it, Roxy?”
Roxy’s head was already following Tiffany’s languid nodding. “Uh-huh…” the brunette finally answered.
“That’s right. You can trust me.”
“You can just turn off that worrying brain of yours for a night and have fun. Doesn’t that sound good?”
“Just trust in me.”
“Trust in you…”
“Let me do the thinking.”
Roxy and Tiffany shivered in unison, their lips stretching into sloppy grins as the last of their resistances faded.
“That’s right,” Seb said, tracing his fingers down their backs. “That feels good doesn’t it? It’s so much fun just letting go. Just feeling good.” His hands kneaded their tight asses, testing their reactions, their obedience. To his satisfaction, both girls pressed their bodies into his grasp, and let him draw them closer, sandwiching his own body between theirs.
“Very good, girls,” he grinned, turning his gaze between his two new slaves. “Now, I have a new game we can play. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“Uh-huh,” they answered in unison.
“That’s right. Now take my hand and follow me.”
Tiffany and Roxy did as they were told, their fingers locking with Seb’s, titters of anticipation bubbling between them as he guided them through the party. Even as a part of him roared with satisfaction at his conquest, he still kept his guard up, quickly scanning the other guests as they passed. Fortunately, none of them seemed to suspect anything untoward: to most, he probably just seemed like a lucky guy who managed to charm two extremely drunk girls into following him. Some probably suspected he was their gay best friend. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Still, Seb had to find a covert spot if he hoped to fully claim his victory, a task that was proving exceedingly difficult. His first thought was to try a bathroom, but the long line from the door quickly dissuaded that notion. He supposed he could try and take his new thralls back to the dorms, but the prospect of wading further into unknown territory wasn’t unappealing, nor was trying to explain his disappearance to Ben. Plus the fatigue from the prolonged use of the Vox was already setting in, placing a new layer of urgency on top of its already impatient demands.
He needed it now. It wasn’t enough that they were subservient to him now—they needed to serve.
Then it occurred to him: why should he be doing all the work? “Tiffany, Roxy,” he turned to the two girls. “Tell me: is there anywhere here where we can enjoy some private fun? Somewhere we won’t be discovered?”
Tiffany put a finger to her chin, frowning in thought. Roxy took only a moment to stare off into space before gaping in realization. “I know a place!” she announced.
“Take us there,” Seb commanded.
Roxy bounced to the front of the group excitedly, tugging Seb and Tiffany towards the entrance to the house. For a moment, Seb was worried his instructions had been too vague, and that she was going to try and lead him to an apartment or public restroom or something. But as they stepped out onto the porch, she quickly swung around to the backyard of the house, jokingly motioning for quiet. Despite himself, Seb was charmed. This was turning out to be even more fun than he thought.
The backyard was surrounded by a wall of hedges, the far side of which Roxy impatiently pulled the group towards. She turned sideways and sidled into the foliage, revealing a gap just wide enough for someone to squeeze through. Seb followed close behind, ignoring the small snags and scratches of the tiny braches against his skin. Roxy abruptly halted in front of him, bending over and peeking out to the other side before winking at him over her shoulder.
“It’s safe,” she whispered.
The trio emerged into neighboring backyard, right behind a toolshed. Fortunately, the rickety wooden structure just tall and wide enough to hide Seb and his new toys from view. No doubt this was a popular venue for party couples to sneak out to, the shed and hedges providing a shadowy alley of privacy from both the home in front of them and the one they just left behind.
“Good girl,” Seb murmured, causing Roxy to tremble with ecstasy. “Are you both ready to have more fun?”
“Yes, yes!” came the pleading reply.
“Very good,” Seb stepped closer, causing both girls to straighten at attention, their backs against the shed wall. “Now listen closely,” he raised his hands. “In a moment, I’m going to touch your foreheads. When I do, it will send a powerful series of vibrations into your mind and through your body. You know this will happen because you trust me, and you know everything I say is true. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes. Everything you say is true.”
“As these vibrations reverberate through you, they’ll carry with them a powerful, intoxicating arousal, carrying it to all those needy, exciting little spots on your bodies. And these waves will build and build as time goes on, the sensations you feel becoming stronger and stronger. Do you understand?”
Both girls nodded, Roxy biting her lip and Tiffany quickly licking away a line of drool from hers. Apparently, even describing the effect was already priming their bodies to obey it.
“This incredible sensation will grow more and more powerful the longer you go without cumming. But the only thing that will bring you release, the only thing that will let you orgasm…is my cum. Anywhere inside or outside your body. It will become your fixation, your obsession, the more control those vibrations have over your body and mind. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
“Yesss,” the girls answered through quickening breaths.
“Good girls,” Seb tapped them on their foreheads.
The effect was immediate. Roxy staggered back against the shed as though Seb had pushed her, one hand grasping for balance while the other rose to her tits. Tiffany gasped and doubled over, pulling at her collar as her fingers snaked between her clenched thighs.
It was tempting, so tempting to just take them then and there. But Seb remained in place, arms crossed. He wanted to see how far their urges would take them. And, the Vox reminded him, it wasn’t his job to take. It was their job to serve.
Tiffany was the first to lose her balance completely, falling to her knees before Seb. Her face was flushed as she looked up at the bulge in his pants, her barely-open eyes hazy, bereft of all thought and intelligence beyond her immediate, aching need. She pressed her face into his crotch, a woman possessed, her hands withdrawing from her unzipped shorts to fumble with Seb’s jeans.
She didn’t miss a beat the moment his cock poked free, not even pausing to yank his pants the rest of the way down before she wrapped her lips around him. Seb let out a pleased gasp as Tiffany took him deep into her throat, before pulling back with a moan of desperate desire.
Roxy, meanwhile, paused massaging her now-free tits long enough to notice her friend’s strategy, and quickly sunk to her knees to assist. Her pendulous breasts swayed as she bent beside Tiffany on all fours, her tongue sloppily tracing in the blonde’s wake as she continued to hungrily bob up and down on her new obsession.
Seb groaned as warmth and delight enveloped him. It was nothing like had ever experienced before: ecstasy and triumph, untainted by circumstance, undiluted by guilt. For once, he felt in unity with the Vox, sharing in its powers and pleasures without hesitation.
He grinned down at the starving cock-slaves drooling all over each other, then grabbed Tiffany’s hair, pulling her upright and away from her duties, allowing Roxy to dive enthusiastically into her place.
“Strip,” he commanded.
Tiffany’s hands shook as she rushed to comply, the vibrations he had sent through her ensuring she was incapable of anything beyond obedience. He pulled her to him as her bra and panties fell away, kissing and biting her neck while grabbing her small, pointed tits and dripping cunt, ensuring she knew that she was his to play with as he liked. Her shuddering breath raced across his cheek—she wanted to be back on her knees, he could tell. She needed to please him. Needed to ensure she took his cum as he commanded. Or she would go mad with the heat burning through her brain.
Finally, Seb gently pushed down on her shoulder, causing the drippy blonde to sink gratefully beside her friend, her tongue lavishing his balls without him needing to utter a single word.
Seb grunted as a joyful spasm coursed through him. He closed his eyes, struggling to hold back, to grasp onto the edge. But it was no use. Any second now he would…he would…
Chelsea stared happily into his eyes. “I belong to you…”
Seb’s hips jerked back as a burst of ecstasy rocked his body. His cock popped from Roxy’s surprised lips, cum streaming across her face and dripping onto Tiffany’s as well. Both girls’ eyes widened before rolling back into their heads, their lashes fluttering as their entire bodies went rigid, choked, broken cries of joy escaping their lips.
Seb stumbled back to catch his breath, the focus and drive that had possessed him evaporating, leaving behind a feeling of content blankness it took a minute or two to shake. An immense feeling of exhaustion filled his muscles, making his movements heavy and clumsy as he forced his spent cock back into his boxers and zipped his jeans.
Still, as he looked down at the two naked, dazed girls beneath him, it was hard to say it wasn’t energy well-spent.
“V-very good girls,” he stammered, forcing the Vox out for just a little while longer. “Th-that was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?”
“Mmmm yes....” Tiffany and Roxy replied, their cum-covered skin glistening in the moonlight as they sat patiently on their hands and knees.
“That’s right. I’ll leave you to enjoy this a moment longer. And whenever you’re ready, you’ll stand up, clean yourselves as best you can, put your clothes back on, and go home. It will seem perfectly normal and pleasant, because this night has been perfectly normal and pleasant for you. Understand?”
“Yesss….” came the droning reply.
“Very good,” Seb continued, taking a moment to summon one last spark of power. “This was a fun, worry-free night. And that’s how you’re going to remember it. You won’t have to think too hard about it, because you weren’t thinking too hard when it happened. It’ll be our lovely, hazy, little dream, from now on. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s…right…” Roxy nodded.
“Dream…” Tiffany echoed with a smile.
“Good girls,” Seb said, slipping towards the hedge wall.
He made his way back to the adjacent yard, then immediately bent over with an exhausted sigh, resting his hands on his knees so he wouldn’t pitch over. His vision swam as he stumbled to find Ben and leave, his body and mind both more tired than they had ever been in his life.
But he had done it.
He had satiated the Vox and his own desires. Anonymously, secretly, and with nobody the wiser. It was a glowing achievement, one that lit a possible path forward in the future. No longer did he have to worry about the Vox spilling over onto his friends. No more would he have to go toe-to-toe with Chelsea to satisfy his needs. Anyone would do now. And it wouldn’t come back to haunt him.
That’s right. He was free. He didn’t need that demanding masochist and her stupid head-games anymore.
Why couldn’t he shake her face from his mind?