Chapter 15

As you drive across campus, you mentally prepare for the upcoming confrontation. The fraternity's disciplinary committee will be easy to manipulate - college boys eager to protect their organization's reputation while simultaneously covering their own involvement.

You arrive at the Theta Chi house twenty minutes early. The sprawling colonial-style building sits quiet in the afternoon sun, its manicured lawn littered with red solo cups from the previous night's festivities. Jackson's black Mustang is parked in the driveway - perfect. The quarterback will be present for this little performance.

Tyler Matthews greets you at the door, his face a mask of practiced concern. "Dr. Stern, thanks for coming," he says, ushering you inside. "We've set up in the chapter room. Jackson and a couple of the officers are waiting."

The chapter room is wood-paneled and smells of stale beer and air freshener. Jackson Reid sits at the head of a long table, his broad shoulders filling out a polo shirt emblazoned with the university logo. Two other fraternity members flank him, both wearing expressions of manufactured solemnity.

"Dr. Stern," Jackson nods, not bothering to stand. "We appreciate your willingness to handle this... delicate situation."

You take a seat opposite them, arranging your features into a mask of professional concern. "Of course. I understand there's been an incident involving Giorgia Valentini."

Jackson exchanges glances with his fraternity brothers. "There's video circulating of Giorgia behaving... inappropriately at our party last night. She's claiming she doesn't remember, but the evidence is pretty clear."

Tyler slides a tablet across the table. On screen is a paused video showing Giorgia - or rather, Gia - straddling Jackson's lap, her head thrown back in ecstasy as his hands grip her hips. The timestamp shows 1:17 AM.

"We're concerned about potential accusations," Jackson continues, his arrogance barely concealed beneath a veneer of worry. "We need to establish that everything was consensual."

You nod thoughtfully, already planning how this meeting will trigger Giorgia's transformation into Gia once again. "Let's wait for Miss Valentini to arrive. I'm sure we can reach an understanding that protects everyone involved."

The chapter room door opens, and Giorgia enters with visible trepidation. Her athletic frame is deliberately concealed beneath a baggy athletic jacket, navy sweater and loose-fitting khaki pants. Her luxurious black hair is pulled back in a severe bun, not a single strand allowed to frame her Mediterranean complexion. Her brown eyes dart nervously between the fraternity officers and you, seeking reassurance.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Valentini," you say, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. "We're here to discuss the events of last night's party."

Giorgia sits rigidly, hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Before we begin, I want to apologize for any inappropriate behavior," she begins, her voice steady despite her obvious discomfort. "I don't remember much of what happened last night, but I want to be clear that what occurred in no way reflects who I really am."

Jackson snorts, sliding the tablet toward her. "Gia, let’s be honest here. It was consensual. Maybe this will refresh your memory."

Giorgia's face drains of color as she watches herself grinding against Jackson, her head thrown back in ecstasy, lips parted in a moan. "That's... that's not me," she whispers, though her eyes remain fixed on the screen.

"Now's the perfect moment," you think, leaning closer to her. Under the pretense of offering support, you whisper near her ear, "When I snap my fingers, you'll remember everything, Gia."

You snap your fingers discreetly.

The change is immediate and dramatic. Giorgia's rigid posture melts away as her shoulders roll back, pushing her breasts forward against the conservative sweater. Her eyes, previously wide with anxiety, now narrow with sultry confidence. She reaches up and pulls the elastic from her hair, allowing the black waves to cascade down her shoulders.

"Oh my god, that was so hot," Gia purrs, her voice transformed from Giorgia's measured tones to a breathy lilt. She leans forward, giving Jackson an unobstructed view down her suddenly too-loose neckline. "Why'd you stop filming, baby? The best part came after."

The fraternity brothers exchange shocked glances as Gia stretches languidly, her entire demeanor transformed. She runs her tongue across her upper lip, eyes locked on Jackson.

You slide the tablet closer to Gia, your voice smooth and encouraging. "Why don't you tell us what you were feeling in that video, Gia? Help everyone understand what was really happening."

Gia's eyes light up at the attention, her pupils dilating with excitement. She leans forward eagerly, giving everyone a generous view of her cleavage as the conservative sweater hangs loose from her new posture.

"Oh my god, it was like, so intense," she gushes, her voice high and breathy. "I felt so free, you know? Like, all these stupid books and volleyball practices don't matter compared to how Jackson made me feel." Her delicate fingers trace the outline of her body on the screen, lingering over the curves of her breasts and hips. "Look how hot I am when I'm not pretending to be all serious and shit."

Jackson and the fraternity brothers exchange glances, confusion giving way to opportunistic smirks. Tyler leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "So you're saying you were totally into it? No one forced you?"

"Forced me?" Gia laughs, the sound musical and carefree. She tosses her black waves over her shoulder with practiced precision. "I practically begged for it. God, look at how wet I was getting." She points to a frame where her expression is one of undisguised lust.

Deep in the recesses of her mind, Giorgia's consciousness struggles against the tide of Gia's dominant personality. The academic athlete who maintained a 3.9 GPA while captaining the volleyball team watches in horror as her body betrays her, as her mouth speaks words she would never utter. But her protests grow fainter with each passing second, drowned out by the intoxicating confidence of Gia's personality.

"In fact," Gia continues, standing up suddenly and stretching her arms above her head, causing her jacket and sweater to ride up and expose a strip of toned, olive-skinned midriff, "this outfit is, like, totally suffocating me. Do you guys mind if I get more comfortable?"

Without waiting for an answer, she slips off her jacket and begins pulling at the conservative sweater, revealing the lacy edge of her bra.

"I think," you interject smoothly, "we can all agree that what happened was consensual. Wouldn't you say so, Gia?"

"Totally," she giggles. "I was like, so into it."

You lean back in your chair, adopting a casual posture that communicates authority without threat. "Gentlemen, I think we can all agree that the formal part of this meeting is concluded. Gia has made it clear that everything was consensual." You turn to Gia with a knowing smile. "But perhaps we should ensure that everyone is... satisfied with the resolution."

Gia's eyes light up with understanding, her tongue darting out to wet her full lips. "Oh my god, that would be, like, so hot," she breathes, continuing to pull at her sweater until it slides over her head, revealing a practical black bra that barely contains her full breasts.

"Lock the door, Tyler," Jackson commands. Tyler secures it with a soft click before returning, his eyes never leaving Gia's exposed olive skin.

You lean in and whisper in Gia’s ear, "This is a perfect opportunity to fully embrace who you really are, Gia," you suggest, your voice low and persuasive.

Within minutes, the chapter room transforms into a scene of unbridled debauchery. Gia kneels in the center of the room, completely naked, her olive skin glistening with sweat as her eager mouth alternates between the fraternity brothers. Her black hair clings to her damp shoulders as she moves from one man to another with enthusiastic abandon.

She looks over her shoulder locks eyes with you. "Why don’t you, like, take me from behind while I suck him off?" she asks, positioning herself on all fours. You position yourself behind her, gripping her firm athletic hips as Jackson stands before her, his hands tangled in her hair.

The sounds of flesh against flesh fill the room as the brothers take turns with her. Gia moans loudly, her voice no longer containing any trace of Giorgia's refined diction. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" she cries out, her body trembling with each thrust.

Deep within, Giorgia's consciousness registers each sensation with horror and unwilling arousal. The feel of multiple hands on her body, the taste of unfamiliar skin, the scent of sex permeating the air – all of it burns into her memory, creating an indelible record of Gia's dominance.

"I want all of you inside me," Gia announces breathlessly.

As the fraternity brothers take turns with Gia's willing body, you lean close to her ear during a moment when she's gasping between partners. Your lips brush against the delicate shell of her ear, your voice a hypnotic murmur beneath the grunts and moans filling the room.

"Gia, you will remember all of this tomorrow," you whisper, your words sliding into her subconscious like a key into a lock. "You'll remember how you begged for this, how you chose this. You'll remember the pleasure, the freedom of being your true self. Giorgia is the mask, Gia is who you really are."

Her pupils dilate as your words take root in her mind. Her olive skin flushes deeper, nipples hardening as Jackson positions himself between her thighs again. You continue your hypnotic instructions, timing them with the rhythm of her pleasure.

"Each orgasm makes Gia stronger, makes Giorgia fade. When you wake tomorrow, you'll question which is the real you. You'll crave this freedom, this pleasure."

Gia moans loudly as Tyler enters her unused ass from behind, her body sandwiched between the two men. "Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cries out, her voice carrying no trace of Giorgia's refinement. Her black hair clings to her sweat-slicked back, her full breasts bouncing with each thrust. The scent of sex and sweat fills the air, creating an intoxicating mixture that seems to fuel her abandon.

"Remember how good it feels to be Gia," you whisper as her eyes roll back in pleasure. "Remember how much better life is when you stop pretending to be someone you're not."

Deep within her consciousness, Giorgia struggles against these suggestions, but each wave of physical pleasure weakens her resistance. The sensations are overwhelming – the fullness of being penetrated from both ends, the taste of salt on her tongue, the sound of masculine groans surrounding her, the sight of her own body responding so eagerly to these sensations. Each orgasm that tears through her athletic frame drives Giorgia's consciousness deeper into the recesses of her mind.

"I'm Gia," she gasps between thrusts, her declaration both a surrender and a triumph. "I've always been Gia."

Meanwhile, across campus, Bella finishes her task with Professor Whitman, rising gracefully from her knees and straightening her skirt. "Same time next week for... additional mentoring?" she suggests, watching with satisfaction as the flustered professor nods helplessly.