Embrace It

Part 1

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2025 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Mind web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

“Well, aren’t you going to knock?” Lauren’s friend Kaitlyn asked impatiently as they stood outside the door.

“We’re a bit early,” Lauren replied, her hand poised in mid-air.

“And why’s that?” Kaitlyn huffed. “Maybe because you shoved us out the door. And then almost ran across campus.”

Lauren did have to admit that her friend’s description was at least partly accurate. But she wasn’t going to apologise for being eager. “I did not run!”

“Alright,” Kaitlyn allowed. “Maybe you didn’t run. But with those legs of yours, you might as well have.”

Lauren smiled apologetically at her friend. She was a good few inches taller than Kaitlyn, five foot nine to her friend’s five foot four.  Which meant her legs were longer. She sometimes got complimented on them. Not that she cared, just more casual sexism. It didn’t help that her hair was blonde. Even if her usual attire was mostly jeans and loose tops. It just seemed to happen. Sometimes she envied her friend’s light brown hair. If her own hair was that colour, maybe she’d draw less of the wrong sort of attention. “Well, we’re here now. Aren’t you excited?”

Kaitlyn’s eyebrows rose. “Excited? About extra work?”

“It’s not extra work,” Lauren corrected her friend. “It’s extra credit.”

“Po-ta-to, po-ta-toe,” the brunette muttered.

“If this works out, we might need to do one less course,” Lauren pointed out. “And didn’t you enjoy Professor Mackenzie’s course last semester?”

“It was okay,” her friend shrugged.

“That’s not what I remember you saying.”

“You were the one who thought it was the best thing ever!” Kaitlyn shook her head. “Are you ever going to knock?”

Taking a breath, Lauren knocked. Her heart was in her throat.

She knocked.

“Come in,” a familiar voice filtered through the door.

Lauren opened the door. The room beyond was a typical academic’s office. Computer and papers on the desk, books crowding the shelves.

“Hello Lauren, Kaitlyn,’ the woman, Professor Mackenzie seated behind the desk smiled. Lauren had enjoyed her class but shouldn’t a Professor of Gender Studies, be, well, a bit more edgy? Or something? And maybe older?  Professor Mackenzie looked to be in her early thirties. And attractive. Her dark hair was short, a cute pixie cut. And there was some makeup on her face. Only a little. But what there was brought out the woman’s cheekbones. Sitting down, it wasn’t obvious that the Professor was a couple of inches shorter than Lauren. Maybe it never was, the woman having an air of authority around her. “Please, sit down.”

Flustered, Lauren realised that she was still standing, Kaitlyn already having taken one of the chairs.

“Thank you for coming,” Professor Mackenzie smiled after Lauren hurriedly sat down. “You’re probably wondering about the project I mentioned.”

“Well, um,” the blonde managed.

“Yeah,” Kaitlyn cut in. “Why us? We’re not A students. Wouldn’t you want them?”

“True,” the academic acknowledged with a nod. “You weren’t top of my class. But you were both solid students. What were your last essays? B’s? Like I said. Solid. But I think you could both be so much more. I’d like to offer you a chance at something.”

“What sort of something?” Lauren frowned.

“A special project. Something I’ve been hoping to do for some time.”

“How much time is it going to take?” Kaitlyn interjected before Lauren could say anything. The blonde shot an angry glance at her friend. She didn’t want Kaitlyn’s brusqueness ruining their chance at this.

“Don’t worry,” Professor Mackenzie replied reassuringly. “It won’t take up too much of your time. And it’ll count for extra credit as well. Enough for a whole course.”

Lauren saw her friend’s attention perk up at that. “Um, what would we have to do?” the blonde asked.

“Not too much,” the older woman smiled, turning her computer’s screen to face the student. “I’ve put a little intro together. Just watch this.”

There was a title card on the screen, which read Reclaiming Female Sexual Stereotypes.

Well, that could be interesting, Lauren thought. With her looks, she’d had enough of being stereotyped herself. She’d come across far too many guys that thought she’d put out just because she was blonde.

“For far too long, society has told women they need to be attractive for other people,” Professor Mackenzie began, almost like she was giving the pair a private lecture. “Well, men, really. In recent decades, of course, there has been a reaction to that. One strand of thought has been to eschew notions of feminine beauty altogether. This project focuses on a different idea. Rather than seeing feminine beauty, and various sexual stereotypes, as something for men and avoided, instead to reclaim them as something for women, allowing them to express themselves freely.”

Lauren knew that she should be focusing on the Professor’s words.  But there was something about the image. Or the screen, wavy lines appearing and disappearing. Was there something wrong with it?

“There are, of course, many such stereotypes.”

Lauren was afraid for a moment that the Professor was going to show images of some of them. Not that she was a prude or anything. But if she did, there was certain to be a vapid blonde amongst them. You could hardly avoid that one and Lauren was sure she had been tagged that way herself sometime. But there were just some words.

Dominatrix

Queen bee

Slut

Ice Queen

Submissive

Bimbo

Of course that one would be there. It had to, didn’t it? There were more listed, but the words wouldn’t come into focus. Those wavy lines were back. Something about them seemed to grab Lauren’s attention, her eyes trying to make sense of the patterns. She tried to focus on the screen. She didn’t want to disappoint her teacher.

“Just keep looking at the screen.”

Lauren was sure she should do that. Was it just Professor Mackenzie telling her to do that? Or was there something about the lines…?

There was an image on the screen now. A dark-haired woman in some tight leather outfit, a whip in her hand, a domineering look on her face. Lauren thought that the image should mean something. But she wasn’t really taking it in. the lines were still there. Moving faster now. She wasn’t sure what that meant. It seemed to be so hard to think.

Another image, of a blonde in a provocatively short dress and an empty expression on her face.

“That’s, uh…” Kaitlyn sounded so uncertain. Lauren managed to drag her eyes away for a moment to glance at her friend. Kaitlyn was just sitting there; her wide eyes fixed on the screen. Her mouth was still moving but no more words were coming out.

“Quiet now,” Professor Mackenzie said. “Just look at the screen.”

Kaitlyn’s lips moved again but then stilled. Lauren thought there was something wrong about that. Thought that maybe she shouldn’t look at the screen. She wasn’t sure why. Thinking seemed so hard.

Lauren’s head felt so empty.

The professor had said to look at the screen. That was the easiest thing to do. Lauren turned back to face the screen, those lines still there.

Professor Mackenzie was still speaking but Lauren let the words wash over her. It was so much easier to watch the screen. Not the images, or the occasional text. Instead, she watched the wavy lines. Had they formed something now? Maybe a spiral? She couldn’t tell.

“Just watch.”

She could do that.

“Relax.”

It was sort of relaxing. Just watching the shapes on the screen.

“Sink deeper.”

Lauren wasn’t sure what that meant. But it was so hard to think. Easier just to watch and relax. Had someone told her to do that?

“Let the spiral hold your eyes.”

Her eyes hadn’t left the screen for Lauren didn’t know how long.

“Let the spiral hold you.”

Something felt wrong about that. But Lauren couldn’t grip the thought.

“Let your thoughts slide away.”

Her thoughts were sliding away, as she felt herself sinking down and down. Lauren tried for a moment to grab hold of a thought, surface from the warm dark void she was sinking into, but it was so hard.

It was easier just to watch the spiral.

“Just sit there, watching the spiral, and let go of all your thoughts.”

She could do that.

“There are no thoughts in your head.”

There weren’t.

“Just the spiral and my voice.”

That was right.

“You want to do this project.”

Lauren did. How could she not? There was just the spiral and Professor Mackenzie’s voice. Nothing else.

“You trust me.”

She did.

“Tell me. Tell me that you want to do this project and that you trust me.”

“I want to do this project. I trust you.” From beside her came another voice speaking the same words, in time with Lauren. There was something familiar about the voice, even if it sounded so flat and empty. There was a vague image in Lauren’s head, of a pretty brunette. Something told her that the image should mean something, but she didn’t know what. The image slipped away.

“Keep saying that.”

“I want to do this project. I trust you.”

Lauren’s head was so empty. Just Professor Mackenzie’s voice and the spiral and the words she’d been told to say. Repeating them over and over, in time with that other voice.

Lauren didn’t know how many times she said them.

That would take thought.

The older woman had risen from her seat, not that Lauren registered that. She was staring at the screen, repeating the words she’d been given, just like that other voice that she didn’t even recognise now.

“I want to do this project. I trust you.”

If Lauren could have thought, then she might have wondered at how flat and empty her voice sounded. Just as empty as the voice from beside her.

The voices weren’t as empty as her mind.

“I want to do this project. I trust you.”

“Yes, you do,” the woman laughed, gently stroking Lauren’s head. “God, I love your hair. It’s just…” Professor Mackenzie sighed, her fingers still playing across the entranced girl’s locks. “And yours as well,” she smiled, one hand reaching out and stroking Kaitlyn’s hair. “You’re such a cute little thing, aren’t you?” The older woman simply stroked the two girl’s hair as they mindlessly repeated the words that they’d been given, a frisson of delicious heat rushing through her.

“I’d like to do more, but we can’t rush these things. Rushed research just gives you sloppy results, now doesn’t it? And I’ve waited so long…” her fingers were now entwined in the girls’ hair, the pair repeating the words over and over, their eyes fixed on the screen.

“I want to do this project. I trust you.”

“I want to do this project. I trust you.”

“I want to do this project. I trust you.”

“God, that’s so hot,” the older woman grinned, enjoying just how perfectly in time the girls were in their repetitions. “But, as I said, we can’t rush this. And I need to be careful. You can stop saying those words now. I think they should have sunk in enough.” She placed one finger gently on the top of Lauren’s head, the blonde giving no reaction. “But we need to make sure nothing goes wrong. You’ll forget anything strange about the screen, won’t you girls?”

“Yes,” the pair replied in unison.

“Very good. And you’ll forget being hypnotised and repeating those words.”

“Yes.”

Professor Mackenzie returned to stroking Lauren’s hair. “I do love it when a pretty girl says yes to me,” she laughed. She grabbed two handfuls of the blonde’s locks and imagined how the girl might look with pigtails. Her actions evoked no reaction from the blonde.

“Well, you’ll be saying yes a lot more,” the Professor smiled, dropping the handfuls and instead taking a single one to see how Lauren would look with a loose ponytail. It would bounce delightfully as she walked, the idea sending another frisson of heat through the older woman.

“Now what about you?” she mused, moving to Kaitlyn. “You look such a treat with your hair just a little bit mussed,” she observed, her fingers sinking into the girl’s silky locks. “So loose is good. Or perhaps most of it up in a bun and just a couple of strands to frame that pretty face? Nothing says we have to stick to one thing. We’ll see.” She pulled most of Kaitlyn’s hair back, leaving two tendrils by the side of the girl’s face for a moment before letting go and smoothing the brunette’s hair back in place. Throughout, the girl just sat there, unresponsive, her eyes fixed on the screen.

“Just a couple more thing, girls,” Professor Mackenzie added as she headed back around to her seat. “You’ll be happy to come back to see me in a few days. Just say ‘yes’.”

“Yes,” the pair replied, their voices still so delightfully empty.

“And you’ll watch the screen whenever I show it to you.”

“Yes.” They hadn’t even needed to be prompted for that.

Lauren blinked. Had there been something about the screen? Or something on it?

“So?” the professor smiled across the desk at her. “Would you like to do this project.”

“Yes!” Lauren exclaimed, surprising herself with her enthusiasm. Even more surprising was Kaitlyn’s eager agreement. “Yes,” the blonde repeated, forcing herself to calm down. Of course she wanted to do the project. She trusted Professor Mackenzie. Where did that thought come from?

“That’s excellent!” the older woman exclaimed. “Now, here’s what I want you to do. I’ll send you both a list of sexual stereotypes. I want you to look over that list and pick one. Then we can meet again in a few days, and you can let me know which one.”

“It’s alright if I choose?” Lauren asked cautiously, worrying she might get it wrong.

“Oh yes,” the professor smiled. “This is your project as much as mine, and I want you to do something that you’re interested in.”

“Okay,” Lauren agreed.

“Wow,” Kaitlyn exclaimed once the pair were outside Professor Mackenzie’s office, surprising Lauren. “That was great! I want to do this project.”

For a moment there was something odd about the look on Lauren’s friend’s face. Something almost vacant. Then it was gone. Lauren decided not to worry about it, or her friend’s sudden enthusiasm.

She wanted to do this project, so of course Kaitlyn did as well.

She trusted Professor Mackenzie.

---

“Are you still going over the list?” Kaitlyn cried. “I mean, really? Can’t you make up your mind yet?”

“I need to get this right,” Lauren insisted, staring at her screen.  Professor Mackenzie had sent them the list of stereotypes. Lauren had been going over and over it. She wanted to do the project.

“If you can’t decide, just pick one at random,” Lauren’s roommate suggested, the cute brunette coming up behind the blonde. She reached over Lauren’s shoulder, her finger circling in mid-air. “Ah… that one. Queen bee. Yeah, that’s a bit of a stereotype.”

“I don’t know.” Lauren bit her lower lip nervously.

“Well, if you can’t make up your mind,” Kaitlyn shrugged. “Just go for bimbo. You are blonde.”

Lauren’s head shot around as she glared at her friend. “I’m not a bimbo! It’s not like I say like every second word.”

“You sort of did then,” Kaitlyn pointed out, then threw up her hands at her friend’s continued stare. “Alright, alright, you’re not a bimbo. But you need to choose one.”

“Have you chosen one?” Lauren asked, trying to shift attention from herself.

“Yep,” her smiled smugly. “Took me five minutes, if that. I’m going with ‘slut.”

“Kaitlyn!” Lauren exclaimed.

“God? What?” Lauren’s friend rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to be one. Although, if anything needs to be reclaimed it’s that. I’m mean, if a guy sleeps around then he’s some sort of super-stud and gets all smug about it. A girl does the same and she gets slut shamed. So. Anyway, make up your mind girlfriend. I want to do this project.”

Guiltily, Lauren turned her attention back to the screen. Kaitlyn was right, she needed to choose. She wanted to do this project.

She trusted Professor Mackenzie.

---

“Welcome back.”

The two girls were seated before Professor Mackenzie’s desk again. Lauren shifted nervously in her chair. She had made a decision, but she wasn’t sure it was the right one.

“So, which stereotype have you chosen?”

“Slut!” Kaitlyn exclaimed eagerly.

Professor Mackenzie nodded in acknowledgement. “And you, Lauren?”

“Um, Ice queen?” the blonde offered hesitantly.

“Interesting choices,” the older woman observed. “Might I ask why you choose them?”

Lauren glanced at her friend, hoping Kaitlyn would take the hint and go first.

“Like I told Lauren,” Kaitlyn shrugged. “Guys can get away with basically being sluts, but women get shit thrown at them. So it seemed sort of obvious.”

“And you, Lauren?”

“Um, well,” Lauren began, then hesitated before the professor nodded for her to go on. “An Ice queen is someone who has it together, but guys want to change her. It’s about the non-consensual seizing of power and…” her voice died away as she realised that Professor Mackenzie and her friend were looking at her.

“It’s fine, Lauren,” the professor smiled. “I understand that it can be difficult when you’re not prepared. Perhaps this will help.”

She turned the screen around to face the two students, the title of the project again displayed.

Those lines were there again. They seemed to be forming a shape. Was it a spiral? Lauren felt her eyes glaze over.

“Just watch the screen.”

Lauren could that. Some part of her wanted to.

“Relax.”

It was easy watching the screen. She didn’t have to think about what to say if she was just watching the screen.

“Let your thoughts slip away.”

She didn’t have to think.

“Watching the spiral.”

The lines had formed a spiral now. It was so easy to watch it. Lauren wasn’t sure she could have looked away even if she’d wanted to.

“Deeper and deeper.”

Lauren was sinking into something dark and warm.

“Letting go of all your thoughts.”

A little voice told Lauren that there was something wrong with that. That she should be thinking. That she needed to be thinking about what the professor was saying. She certainly needed to pay attention. The spiral told her that.

“There are no thoughts in your head.”

There were no thoughts, her mind just an empty blank void. It was what the professor wanted.

“There is only the spiral and my voice.”

That was all there was.

“So,” Professor Mackenzie smiled thinly, leaning forward, her chin resting on the laced fingers of her hands. “Slut and Ice Queen? Interesting choices, but not what I see you as. And really, decisions aren’t going to be your strong points from now on. So, what instead? Not that I haven’t already decided, but it’s best to be certain. Lauren, when I snap my fingers, you’ll go to sleep. You won’t hear anything until I snap my fingers again. We don’t want you mixing up your friend’s instructions for your own.”

The older woman snapped her fingers, her smile tuning up just a little at the corners as the blonde’s eyes closed, her head slumping forward.

“Now, Kaitlyn.” The brunette eyes were still so wide, fixed on the screen. “Stand up and turn around, there’s a good girl.”

Lauren’s friend rose stiffly, her eyes still so wide, and started to turn on the spot.

“Yes, that’s it. All the way around.” Professor Mackenzie had risen as well, her eyes roaming over the girl’s body. She made her way over to the brunette, then brushed the girl’s hair back, before again holding two tendrils by the side of her face. “Yes.” Letting go of the brunette’s hair, she let her hand slide down, over the girl’s chest, before cupping Kaitlyn’s pert breasts through her top. “I think the right topic for you is the maid. Such a helpful little thing. Sexy. Submissive. I can just picture you in those lovely little skirts and fishnets. A cute apron, a little black choker around your neck. Do we put a little white cap on you? No, I think a bow matching the choker will look better with that hair colour. You’ll be such a treat! Now, let’s try it. Say, I want to study the maid stereotype.”

Kaitlyn’s eyes were still so wide. She almost seemed to be looking through the older woman, to where the spiral still spun on the screen. Professor Mackenzie wasn’t worried that she stood in the way. She knew that the shape spun in the girl’s mind.

“I want to study the maid stereotype,” Kaitlyn echoed, her voice delightfully empty.

“Hmm, perhaps we should be more specific. Say, I want to study the sexy French maid stereotype.”

“I want to study the sexy French maid stereotype.”

“Almost,” the professor nodded, one hand idly caressing the girl’s breast. “But maids are supposed to do what they’re told. Say, I want to study the sexy, submissive French maid stereotype.”

“I want to study the sexy submissive French maid stereotype.”

Professor Mackenzie couldn’t stop herself grinning. The girl looked such a delight, her empty vacant, stare the perfect accompaniment to those words. “You keep saying that.”

“I want to study the sexy submissive French maid stereotype.”

“Yes, you do. You’ll study what they wear, how they walk. What their duties are. How they tease. And just how submissive and compliant they are.”

“I want to study the sexy submissive French maid stereotype,” the brunette repeated, her voice so empty.

“Very good. Now, you just keep repeating that yourself, silently. Believing it. Feeling it. You’ll want to learn all about them. It’ll be so much fun. In fact, it will be so much fun, it will turn you on. Just a little. It’s a sexy stereotype, so what’s the harm in that? It will give you just a little thrill, a naughty little secret.”

The girl’s lips were moving, forming the words, but no sound came out.

“Such a good girl,” the professor laughed, patting the brunette’s cheek. “Now, you just ignore anything I or Lauren say until I tell you to sit down again.”

Leaving the brunette, the professor moved on to Lauren. Standing behind the blonde she snapped her fingers.

“Wha…?” the girl managed.

“Just watching the screen, not a thought in that pretty little head,” the Professor whispered, gently laying her hands on Lauren’s shoulders. She peered down, but all she saw was the swell of the girl’s breasts under the loose top, the garment covering any hint of a cleavage.

“Well, we’ll have to change that,” the older woman mused. “In time. The choice for you is obvious. Blonde, pretty. Blue eyes. Those legs and this hair. What could it be but bimbo? Say, I want to study the bimbo stereotype.”

“I want to study the bimbo stereotype,” the blonde echoed mindlessly.

“Again.”

“I want to study the bimbo stereotype.”

“Yes you do,” the professor smiled, her hands sinking into Lauren’s hair. “You want to know everything. What they wear. How they do their makeup. How they talk. How vapid they act. You’ll find it enticing. You won’t admit it at first. Just a guilty little secret. Now, keep saying I want to study the bimbo stereotype. Let it sink in. Accept it. Believe it.”

“I want to study the bimbo stereotype.”

Professor Mackenzie resumed her seat, her eyes drinking in the sight of the two girls, one saying her words out loud, the other, standing behind her, mouthing them silently. Somehow, that seemed fitting. She let them continue for a while, a hand drifting to her thigh. Need building in her centre. Patience, the older woman told herself.

“Lauren, stop now,” she said after what she thought was long enough. “Kaitlyn sit down. Both of you, keep watching the screen. You know what you’ll be studying now. Lauren, the bimbo, Kaitlyn, the sexy French maid. You’ll believe that was what you choose in the first place. Isn’t it so good I agreed with your choices? Yes it is. Hmm…  what else? You’ll believe those were always your choices. You’ll read any messages I send you. That’s important. Hmm You may need to remind each other about that…”

---

“Oh wow,” Lauren exclaimed happily after she and her friend exited the professor’s office. “I can’t believe that she agreed with our choices. I was so worried.”

“Right,” Kaitlyn nodded. “Bimbo.”

“I’m just studying it!” Lauren insisted.

She couldn’t wait to start.