The darkness of subconsciousness was peaceful and quiet, ignorant of everything until a rude, consistent sound entered her eardrums. She hated waking up to the sound of alarm clocks, and violently reached around to silence it. Opening her eyes, rays of dawn shone on a contorted face, bringing light and pain to the awakened state. Frustrated groans came before and after the first yawn, grasping the bridge of a nose as signs of a headache shot from the bridge to deep in the brain. 

"Fuck," was the first word to leave Tovah's lips, still trying reach for the alarm, then pulling covers over her head to shield herself from an unsatisfying wave of light and sounds, including birds chirping outside. Somehow, her slowly-processing brain picked up something beyond everything she tried shutting herself off from - "-ur fuck toy." Not an uncommon thing for her to hear as a stage hypnotist with skills as impressive as her ethics could be questionable, except she could usually remember how she got a fuck-toy the previous night. Instead of smiling and drifting off back to sleep despite the alarm, she bravely opened her eyes to take in more pain. Blurry without contacts, she found her glasses and viewed an unfamiliar alarm clock reading 7:44. With cathartic fanfare, she smacked the snooze button hard, hoping she managed to somehow brake it. But alongside it was a sight that shocked her to panicked consciousness - an empty vodka bottle standing tall on the nightstand next to the bed.

"Oh, fuck."

Tovah had a strange relationship with some brain-altering substances over the years that made her stick to moderate intakes of mild drinks like wine and champagne. None seemed to alter more than vodka, as evident from some wild nights spread across decades, a few of them deep into becoming the accomplished and highly-reputable Miss Mentalist. Something about that drink plus the hypnotist's interesting biological make-up equaled a unique loss of inhibitions without taking away any of her powerfully-suggestive prowess. According to the accounts of others, she was a more aggressive, more insistent version of herself after a generous intake of vodka, and such accounts were open to interpretation, depending on the source and what a drunken Tovah convinced them of. Some of those times were most certainly due to people trying to convince her that alcohol inhibited the average hypnotist's abilities; being more than above the average hypnotist, and thriving off of challenges, she proved detractors very wrong. 

Unlike previous times though, she could barely remember anything about the night prior, no matter how much she tried. Her last clear memory was of doing a show at a fraternity, going through the PG-rated motions successfully, and receiving great applause for it. Where she'd done a show explained the surroundings at least, waking up what looked like an over-sized, over-decorated dorm of a horny young adult.

"Mmmm, your fucktoy."

She heard a whisper from somewhere, followed by a tongue making heated contact between her legs beneath the covers. Tovah would've screamed and leapt out of the strange bed were it not for hands holding her firm, and the tongue suspiciously-knowing how she liked to be licked out. Under enthusiastic worship, the middle-aged hypnotist was less-inclined to stop the coming orgasm that brought some pain but even more pleasure. Grabbing fistfuls of long hair and letting forgotten directions happen, it wasn't long before she was worked to a strong orgasm, and the tongue lapsed as its owner came as well, before greedily licking to get every last drop of fluid it produced. 

Sharp pleasure cut through most of the distress joyously, until the fucktoy needed deep breaths to recover, and the hangover gradually filled the void of awareness. Throwing the covers off the bed revealed the naked pairing, and how vacant the younger woman looked in early daylight. Having relaxed muscles and focused intensely on deep breaths close to her crotch, Tovah reasoned she was programmed to love her private fragrance, waiting, hoping for an excuse to have more of her addictive fluids.

"Who are you?"

"I am Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta pledge number 5, Provost. I live to serve the tenets of ΗΥPΝΘ."

"Umm....okay? That's a-mmmm, ow...." fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, reactively trying to counteract the pain radiating under the skin. "That's a freakishly-long sorority name. Who, or what is provost?"

"You are my provost; I live to serve you," the supposed servant uttered between breaths, sounding desperate to prove her devotion.

Tovah slowly moved herself off the bed, still letting her eyes adjust to sunlight as she searched for her clothes. Pulling the covers off of them, eyes widened to see words written in black marker over the other woman's body. Atop her forehead was "fucktoy," and across his body was Greek letters, with "pledge 5" written underneath them. She ashamedly realized the lettering looked like "HYPNO," but lots of gigs spent on college campuses got her to be more aware of the Greek alphabet, and had a mild laugh over Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta, literally spelling "Η-Υ-P-Ν-Θ."

She was hoping to amuse herself by looking up the specific meaning of provost before dealing with whatever issues a reckless Miss Mentalist caused, not finding her phone or her purse yet.

"Slave-I mean, pledge, where is my phone?" Tovah asked, finding her suited stage outfit strewn about with jeans.

"I don't know, Provost. May I find it for you?"

"Of course, sl-pledge 5, heh. Gonna need to adj-" Tovah stopped herself as a thought just occurred to her.

"You said you are pledge 5?"

"Yes, Provost."

"H-how many pledges did I make last night?"

"I don't know, Provost. May I serve and find out for you?"

Putting on her suit pants and buttoning up her white blouse, she nervously crept to the door and looked out of the room she woke up in, hoping against hope that her activities stayed in that room. Opening the door to see writing scrolled along the wall displaying "ΗΥPΝΘ FOREVER," and another college student, a fairly handsome young man sleeping right outside her door, rising concerns flooded through her brain, hurting it more than it already was.

His shirt looked ripped apart, exposing a hard-bodied chest with writing similar to pledge 5, but specifying "slave 4" over his pecs, and "chas" on his forehead. The zipper on his jeans were open, exposing his cock to the world. There was a look of slight distress on his sleeping face.

"Ummm, Chas? Please wake up for me..." She ushered the man on the ground with calming words and shaking his head gently. He opened glassy eyes and gazed over the woman crouched over him. Sucking in a deep breath, her appearance was enough to trigger him to smile reverently, but groan in distress. 

"I am Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta slave 4, Provost. I live to serve the tenets of ΗΥPΝΘ. I need your permission to cum."

He began whispering a script embedded deep in his head, reciting it over and over as he stroked himself gradually, then desperately. Tovah half-laughed, half-wanted to kick herself for taking too long to decipher "Chas" as chastity.

"Stop, slave. Pay attention to my finger now," she held her index finger just above his eyes, waving it side to side above his eye-line, occasionally dropping it below his face. "Follow my finger back and forth, feel yourself beginning to sink more and more. Stuck to, magnetized to my finger, falling as you fall, until you sleep for me." Snapping her fingers at "sleep," he ceased moving and sank back into the state she found him.

Taking her performance heels off, she quietly tip-toed through the hallway. Unwilling to open any doors along the way, she crept to the stairs leading to the house's exit, hoping not make any kind of alerting sound, or find any more evidence of her inexplicable exploits. Unfortunately, looking down to the first floor, she saw the doors of the fraternity's huge rec room mostly closed. The section of the doors not closed showed a stream of familiarly-colored light pouring out from the room. She stared at the beaming pinks and other soft colors for long seconds, allowing her brain to catch up to what it was, gasping as she finally allowed herself to believe what could've happened happened. Everything prior seem inconsequential, and yet everything since waking up made more sense now as her mind imagined a group of students sleeping in the living room area, covered in colored, flashing illuminating lights meant to be stared at instead of sunlight. Around the closed rec room were signs strewn about the house identified it as a fraternity called Sigma-Phi-Beta. Deciphering the name of the fraternity from the signs was difficult as it looked messily vandalized, with Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta written over them.

Near the top of the fraternity's staircase, Tovah leaned against the wall, lightly banging her head against it, cursing at herself for what she'd done, especially for not being able to remember how she did it. The clearest, most recent memories that came back was doing a standard stage show for the college, or maybe the fraternity, and intending to play it straight on this job. As the renown stage hypnotist Miss Mentalist and currently her own manager, she enjoyed putting on lots of shows that seemed like harmless fun, and occasionally turning it into mind-blowing, forgettable fun. A few side-ventures she ran under the umbrella of "Wildcat Consulting," she got to let her inner unethical hypno-deviant out every once in a while and service her libido, as well as anyone else whom she chose to deal with. Under any working circumstance, she made sure she stayed in-control of all the involved moving pieces, meaning staying typically sober and away from impulses and/or substances that knowingly made her a loose cannon. Whatever caused her to lose herself, a cannon did go off, exploding her influence onto a so far admittedly sexy student body, or bodies.

Her first impulse was to evacuate, to run as fast as she could away. It was the most tempting choice, except for the fact that someone would probably awaken, remembering the havoc she caused, deeply tarnishing her seemingly spotless reputation among other things she valued. And even if that sounded better, her purse and phone were still missing; she'd be leaving with no cash, credit cards, or the device that served as her sole business hub, with nothing saved in the cloud.

"Fuck," Tovah whispered to herself again. 

"Please Provost, may I lick you out again?" the hypnotist nearly jumped out of her skin hearing the pledge's voice that snuck up to her side, as if desperately waiting to serve again. Ignoring the offer that made her slick between the legs, she looked to the barely mindful woman with concern.

"Do you remember what happened last night, pledge?" she asked, curious about the girl's real name, but not wanting to spark anything that would summon consciousness yet.

"Yes, Provost. You took us all and made us part of your sorority. We happily, helplessly accepted."

"D-do you remember why I did that last night?"

"Yes, Provost. You wanted us, and we obey."

Despite the unsatisfyingly-vague answer, thoughts that either could be forgotten memories, or just wishful fantasizing, flashed in her head, taking everyone through some impromptu group trance, and then giving each one individual attention, brainwashing them until the only reality they knew was Miss Mentalist's lewdly-constructed Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta. Knowing her trousers were being stained, she sat at the top of the stairs, pulling her pants down. Urging Pledge 5 to come closer with a finger made slick with her juices, she led her by her nose with that finger until they both got their wish and she was licking Tovah and herself to fresh orgasms.

"In for a penny, in for a pound of drenched flesh," she resigned, letting the eager tongue take thoughts away for brief minutes before she came all over the wooden stairs and the pledge's smiling face. The mentalist smiled herself, from the guilty, domineering thrill, and knowing she could still manage to undo everything done in the minds of everyone involved.

"Enough, Pledge 5. Provost commands you to stop." The command was instantly obeyed, making Tovah hope she wouldn't get too attached to the weird title.

Besides figuring out the how of last night, she wondered if time was a factor in fixing things.

"Do you know if anyone plans to come here today or this morning? Some returning student or something?"

"I believe the Dean Forest will be coming this morning, Provost."

"The what," Tovah asked with a lump in her throat.

"The college dean Emilia Forest is coming; the head of the fraternity is her son, I heard she would be coming this morning."

"When?" Tovah carefully went down the stairs, thankfully finding a wall-clock to go by.

"9 am, Provost."

Eyes reading 7:56 on the wall clock.

"Fuck me," was the exasperated sigh, followed by a sharp command. "Pledge, freeze! Don't move a muscle until told otherwise." Pledge 5 froze as was bid of her, going for her Provost's pants to lower them and lick her to orgasm again, whimpering from her sudden inability. Tovah smiled inwardly at the significance of "fuck-toy" labeled on her forehead; merely speaking the word "fuck" made her a toy, desperate to be the Provost's pussy's sex-toy.

Walking back to the room she woke in, waking the man in mental-chastity, she brought the two downstairs to the rec room. Even before opening it slowly, her fears were realized, finding a large group of students sleeping while low, binaural audio of her mesmerizing alto echoed through the room and probably their programmable dreams. Curtains drawn, luckily blocking sunlight and peeks into potential debauchery, they remained bathing in the light source of a large flat screen filled with swirling colors and patterns since the night before. It was a display she'd fashioned herself in-private, a secret experimental mass-hypnosis program; she was nearing perfecting it in it's current state, using soft, multi-colored spirals that were easy on the eyes, with shaded words of "listen," "obey," "surrender," "hypnotized," and "sexy" faded in and out of view. Along with the written suggestions were discernible-enough clips of people writhing in pleasure, backs arching, heads and long hair tipping back or angling down in trance, gasps of pleasure, teeth biting lower lips, and just as many overlaying clips of Tovah herself swinging a pocket watch, using her hands to entrance, or just a close of up of her mouth speaking hypnotically into the microphone. Every clip was taken from footage of her stage shows, and some private, backstage affairs as well to make an amalgamation of hypno porn no one would realize how hypnotic until it was too late. 

It made perfect sense how she was able to take a whole fraternity to their practically brainwashed depths, and considering the only copy of the program available outside of her home was on her phone, she hoped it would be present somewhere in the room. Tovah found the room's sound system still engaged to the microphone laying on the table. Tapping it a few times to find it still powered on, Tovah took a long, deep breath, and summoned the vixen within, and her patented "phone sex voice," to become the loudest in the room, working with the repeating audio, but firmly ensuring her live vocals stood out.

"Deep, deep, deeeeeep. Hear my voice now, deep in your sleep, deep in your mind. Listen carefully, deeply, intently to your Provost," she kept from laughing to herself. "Let your dreaming minds sleep, let your subconsciousnesses awaken no, let your conscious minds dream. Open your eyes, feel your bodies, wake up under deeeep hypnosis for me."

Slowly, pairs of fluttering eyes and distinct breathing patterns showed evidence of several minds booting up to a minimized wakefulness. With Tovah's hypnotic voice echoing the room and their cavernous minds, nearly a dozen college students rose to the state they relished in for hours, alert and aware only of the voice that smothered everything else that didn't feel good. Asking them to sit up on the floor or whatever cushioned seat they could find, she surveyed more of her apparent work. All the guys were bare-chested, deemed slaves 1 -3, 5 and 6 of ΗΥPΝΘ according to the black-marker writing. The majority of the girls present were ΗΥPΝΘ pledges, but a few were written as slaves. This made the hypnotist take pause and try to reflect why a distinction was made with the women but not any of the men, before beginning to interrogate them as a group.

"Who am I to you?"

"You are Provost. I live to serve the tenets of ΗΥPΝΘ," was the collective answer.

"You will obey me without question, will you not?"

"Yes, Provost. I obey," each said listlessly.

"I will ask you all some questions. If anyone knows the answer, raise your hand and I will call on you. Understand?"

"Yes Provost."

"Good. First question, does anyone know what I drank, or if I was drugged or my drink was spiked?"

The room was silent as no one answered or raised their hands.

"Does anyone know why I started a sorority?"

A few hands slowly raised up, Tovah asked each one what they knew; the overall answer from them boiled down to "the right women should be in-charge tonight."

"The...right women?" she looked at each of the women there, noticing the slave women were dressed a little more confidently than their pledge peers, with evidence of more professionally-done make-up and nicer hair-styles, like Barbie dolls. She wondered what that all meant.

"Hmmm, does anyone know how my program got on to this screen?"

"I do, Provost," Pledge 5 behind Tovah raised her hand and spoke. "You told me to upload this program from your phone."

"And you still don't know where my phone is, Pledge 5?"

"No, Provost."

"Dammit. Does anyone else know where my phone is?"

Blank faces were the responses given, making Tovah want to scream in frustration. She reluctantly kept calm, and asked the last question she could think of.

"Does anyone know where my purse is?"

One hand rose, Slave 2, a pretty brunette with full red, smudged lipstick.

"Good, you will take me to it when I tell you to, Slave 2. But first," looking at the clock, reading 8:11 am, the Provost cleared her throat, ready to give thick, mind-numbing orders. "Stare at the screen, let the colors, the spirals, the waves of pleasure, let my voice wash over you, silencing your mind as your arousal speaks to you. The blanker you become, the more aroused you become. Empty of all by my will, overflowing with the pleasure of obedience. As I count you up to the number ten, you will find yourself rising to awareness. The higher the numbers climb, you will go even deeper into trance, but you will seem awake, ready to do everything I ask, ready to clean this place up and make it look nice and tidy, as if nothing happened. Obey your Provost as I count now..."

As instructed, the higher she counted, the more they seemed freed from hypnosis, except for the vacant stare, ready to be told what to do. It being the fraternity house, she told the male-slaves to lead the others to the cleaning supplies, and for them to begin cleaning and removing all evidence of her ΗΥPΝΘ sorority possible.

After giving them their tasks, she instructed Slave 2 to take her to her purse, making Pledge 5 follow along for support as well. With the sounds of straightening up in the background, Tovah followed to a room upstairs. The further away they got from the cleaning noise, the closer they got to some static, electronic noise behind a closed door, near the room she'd fallen asleep in. Concerned and quickly opening the door, Tovah found a campus security guard resting on the ground near a fake prop pedestal that had her missing purse atop it. He looked to be middle age and balding, bearing a slight gut at his mid-section, and a sleepy demeanor. She put it together that he'd paid the frat a visit, probably after some complaints; the Provost got to him and made him an honorable guard for her valuable property. That thought would've made her laugh were it not for the noise of the radio waking him. He reflexively reached for it, about to respond to it when the look on his face grew angered, recognizing Tovah's face.

"You!" The guard moved quickly off the ground to pin a still surprised, unresisting Tovah against the door by her forearms, closing it off from the two servants outside, belying what she expected of someone his age and size. 

"You've been the one drugging people around here. What the hell did you do to me last night?"

"Officer Torres," she calmly responded, reading the name on the shirt. Keeping her breathing under control, she hoped to make it rhythmic so there could be a longer way of calming him down if the shorter one didn't work. "I apologize for catching you off-guard, so to speak, but I was drugged too; I just woke up, I can't remember anything from last night, and...I don't know why, but does the name 'Provost' mean anything to you?"

Tovah hoped that would trigger something in him, at least enough to make him ease his hand pressing on her shoulder. It didn't.

"Doesn't mean a damn thing to me, just like I remember you doing something funky to me last night. Whatever it was, it stops now."

Distraught how none of her genuine half-truths were even to be believed, and knowing her own skills, she then thought it best to lean in to the accusation.

"Are you sure it stops, guard? How can you when you don't know what it really is? If you don't know what it is, how can you guard against it? The short, simple answer is, you can't." In the space of a few seconds, she dropped the innocent intonation in-favor of one more seductive, and let one of her hands pressed against the door, drop at the wrist to initiate a butterfly pattern with her fingers.

Without letting him get a word or thought in edgewise, she continued. "You can't know what happened, just like you don't know what my fingers are doing or why they are doing it. You don't know, and your mind is so desperately trying to figure out why. Why are the fingers fluttering like that, why are they moving and fluttering before your eyes? Why does it feel like they're getting closer to your eyes with every passing second? Are the pretty finger tips moving closer? Are your interested eyes moving closer. You don't know. Your mind doesn't know, and will stare and follow until it does."

Tovah let herself smile, knowing the only answer her fingertips would give is what would come next.

"Your eyes and mind will stare and follow until it knows that the only thing it knows is SLEEP!" She snapped her fingers at the last word, bringing his eyes downwards to close. She held him and whispered for a few moments to keep him under, before using a bit of fractionation, bringing him back up to see the butterflies before being dropped several times. She had to remind herself she was still on the clock, getting her purse behind the guard, happy to see just about everything was intact, except still no sign of her phone. She opened the door to see both girls still waiting like sheep for their shepherd. 

"Do either of you have the time?"

Pledge 5 checked her wristband watch. "8:24, Provost."

"Damn," she whispered as the trio followed her down the stairs, making the guard kneel in the fraternity rec room and stare at the pretty program, saving time for programming him later. She was about to leave him before something he said prompted another question from her.

"Guard, what did you mean by people being drugged here?"

"There were reports of people's drinks being spiked, and girls taken advantage of here," Torres answered softly.

"Before last night?"

"Many nights, many reports."

"Unsubstantiated reports?"

"Yes."

"Good boy," she patted him on the head and let the extended influence take him deeper. Tovah appreciated a guard trusting his intuition and checking in on problematic elements on campus, especially since there was a good chance she could've been another unsubstantiated report herself. Looking around the open main entrance of Sigma-Phi-Beta, progress was being made on every front. Lots of empty beer and liquor bottles were being put into trash bags, all the common areas were being swept and scrubbed, and all the signs of Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta were either being removed or covered up, meaning she might need to return to supervise a paint-job or something; annoying, but progress none-the-less. The Provost laughed at how Sigma-Phi-Beta was probably soon to be the cleanest it's ever been, certainly in the minds of its members, but also a little saddened that her superior sorority was being excised, as the idea sounded better and better with the more control and memories she regained.

Looking over the faces of each of them, she began to wonder who would've drugged her if anyone. Her earlier interrogation should've ruled that out since no one was in a position to think of a lie to tell, but she wondered if all the possible suspects were present. "Even if these kids weren't in on it, doesn't mean they wouldn't enjoy it, or capture it on their phones," she thought. That thought made everything around her stop as she called out to them.

"If anyone captured me doing anything on their phones last night, bring them to me immediately!"

Tovah then smacked her own forehead as another idea came to her. "Way to wait this long  to think about it, stupid," she told herself. "Pledge 5, give me your phone." Tovah quickly snatched it from her hand after she lethargically produced it from her pocket. 

8:32 am the time read upon activating. "Almost time," she complained.

"Pledge 5, you will search the house for the sound of ringing. Once you find it, you will bring me my phone. If you do it quickly enough, I might have time to give you one more reward, fucktoy..."

"Mmmm, fucktoy," the programming sent chills from her mind to her pussy, making the young girl move quicker to find the ringing Provost told her about.

One of the male slaves, the one labeled "Chas" that was outside her room, brought their phone to her; she had them unlock it and bring up footage from the previous night. It was Tovah, bright, more animated than her usual composed self. She could tell her inhibitions were all but gone, but her desire to trance was shooting through the roof. Her audience were all the slaves and pledges at the frat, laughing at her and her eagerness to hypnotize everyone there. She could tell drunk Tovah was oblivious to all their jeers and disbelief, thinking she was embarrassing herself, uncaring about what their minds thought when she was bound to control them momentarily.

The video itself was around 25 to 30 minutes long; she skipped around a lot, shifting from the end, backwards. Towards the end of the video, the phone fell onto something, staring up at the ceiling lit up with her program, only the sounds of aroused breathing and her voice audible. Five minutes before that, there wasn't a body not still and staring at the screen, as Tovah all but stole every last distraction away from them. Ten minutes before that, there was more laughter, but quiet as they let the supposedly out-of-her-mind-drunk hypnotist put on another show for her, expecting it to be mortifying the next day, not even realizing how focused they were, the silly, laughable attempt transforming into a lewd show once faded, erotic images came on-screen, engaging a room full of young hormones, opening them to unexpected possibilities. No one knew how caught they all were once she let her phone sex voice speak in to the microphone, slipping past giggles into increasingly-intrigued minds. She was definitely going to have to come back and make a copy of all the evidence before removing it from their phones.

Early on into the video, there was talk of what Brandy, Paul, and Satch arranged. And how Satch probably got to Miss Mentalist too, making her a special treat for the Beta house.

Before letting the owner of the phone get back to work, she grabbed him by the hair, and yanked him forward to angrily ask "Where is Satch, Brandy, and Paul? Are they in this house?"

"Satch and Brandy are in the basement, Provost. I am Paul."

Adjusting her glasses and trying to tap more into her memories, his face was familiar, but not enough to bring anything back. "No, there is no 'Paul.' You are merely Slave 4, property of the ΗΥPΝΘ sorority," She reminded him sharply.

"Yes, Provost. I am Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta pledge slave 4. I live only to serve the tenets of ΗΥPΝΘ."

"Exactly, nothing more. Take me to the basement, now."

"Yes, Provost."

Tovah and Slave 4 walked to the basement, descending the steps down to find a space bearing some sunlight, and the overpowering display from Tovah on another screen, with another male slave lying next in-front of the TV. From a distance, she saw his pants were open, erection engorged but without direction or stimulation. The writing on his skinny chest read "ΗΥPΝΘ bitch beta," happily identifying him as Satch. Before either could move closer, a big white board was being swung at the two at the base of the stairs. Slave 4 was hit in the chest and face, and fell down, with Tovah barely managing to be touched by the edge of the board. The hypnotist looked to see Brandy standing weakly with the board on in her hands, wrinkled clothes obviously hastily put on, and "cunt" written over her forehead. 

Brandy took a breath ready to swing again, but the sight of Tovah caught her off-guard, as she found strength leaving her arms, dropping the white board. The way she leaned back-up against the nearest wall, knees nearly buckling, thighs clenched together, Tovah happily guessed the triggered reaction the mere sight of the Provost was having. As Tovah stood still, studying her face more and more, memories lost to a black-out started to surface.

Tovah remembered performing her show as Miss Mentalist to the usual perfection. It was a little weird to her that the only ones that raised their hand to volunteer were girls; she typically had a mix, or could coax a mix out of an audience, but she went with the flow anyway. After the show, she'd discovered that all the volunteers for the night were pledges of the Delta-Nu-Delta sorority. The leader of Sigma-Phi-Beta, Paul, arranged and paid for the show, and Brandy, head of Delta-Nu-Delta, provided the bodies; apparently Brandy hated all the new pledges, and wanted them humiliated off of campus. Tovah was extra glad she planned for nothing salacious to happen that night, as her instincts told her something else was going down. Instead of leaving the kids to party immediately, she stuck around the fraternity house for the after-party, keeping a close eye on everyone she had on-stage. 

Some were happy she was there, especially the guy called Satch. He was always close-by, keeping an eye on her. She thought it was just normal infatuation, and should've paid more attention to the single cup of malt liquor she lightly consumed. Whatever he slipped in that, she was quickly out of her wits, surprisingly-open to outside suggestions, enjoying more liquor when offered, especially vodka, without knowing how her body would respond. At some point, the devious chemistry major Satch gloated to the inebriated hypnotist about his whole plan. The tasteless substance spiking her drink was a special cocktail of sorts, with effects designed to mask potent suggestibility with lucidity, with a high probability of memory loss; Tovah's system fought it better than most, but never expected to have any vulnerability exposed. Unfortunately, one thing that stuck in Satch minoring in psych was knowing previously hypnotized subjects were a lot easier to get back into trance once tranced already, as Miss Mentalist's show provided. With her there, he even got the bright idea to have a taste of an attractive MILF who was also an experienced hypnotist. Satch absolutely relished in telling an older authority figure of sorts like her how what was going to happen to her, assuming she would be too far gone to not be open to literally anything.

Dominant alpha that Tovah was, she wouldn't stand for that. Believing that her drink was spiked, she followed the logic to believing that everyone's drink was spiked, and therefore defenseless against someone else; that forerunning thought set every other thought or suggestion aside, focused on saving everyone there by taking charge of everyone there. The uncompromising insistence shining through the drunken state, as she had the tech savvy Pledge 5, her name being Gracie or something, take the program from her phone and put it on their TV to do another hypno demonstration. Everyone was laughing at her, until no one was laughing as Tovah's overwhelming voice, from both the pre-recorded binaural vocal track and her own addition through the microphone, filled everyone's minds. On the fly, she decided to make her own sorority, a better organization that empowered women instead of the alternative. After what was probably a few uninterrupted hours of brainwashing from the program running on repeat, everyone was eager to fill their role, be it pledges, slaves, or unlawful instigators. When demanding to know the culprits behind the spiking plot, the guilty three helplessly confessed, and were rightfully labeled and punished, Paul, Brandy, and Satch experiencing distressing chastity while everyone else got to edge and release once finally giving in. Even an unprompted visit from Officer Torres was turned around, made to serve a better house than the one that left him constantly suspicious.

It was a lot to take in all at once, much of it pride and satisfaction, but Paul's phone in her hand showed only a few minutes had passed thankfully, displaying 8:40. 

"Cutting it close, but I have a little time," she smiled evilly. 

She took slow, intentional steps towards Brandy.

"Who am I, cunt?"

"Fuc-mmmmmm.....P-provost," the anger within was easily extinguished as her loins complained of more important things, like being allowed to get off.

"Yes, Provost," Tovah soothed her with her phone sex voice.

"Provost," Brandy whispered back, showing what hours of brainwashing did to even the most resistant and newly-initiated for losing control.

"Provost," every step Tovah took, her voice grew more whispered, inching closer and closer to allowing her breath to touch needy flesh.

"Provost," Brandy nearly mewled.

"Provost," Tovah delighted at the front of the weaker sorority leader's pants being clearly stained, desperate for mercy, as fingering herself ramped up the sensations, but wouldn't get her over the precipice.

"Provost," a soft, pathetic whine was barely heard, hoping to feel the word against her skin, and let that be some sort of signal.

"....sleep, cunt." The words touched Brandy's skin and denied her again. The Provost cackled with glee as she sank to the floor against the wall, deeply under. Waking Paul and the sleeping beta bitch up with a helpful slap to the face, she brought the three offenders back upstairs, finding the place just about spotless. After finishing, everyone assembled back at the main entrance, waiting for further instructions. She cackled again at how the probably very affluent kids there looked like the help waiting for the master, or Provost of the house. 

"Good work, pledges and slaves. Provost is very pleased with your work," she congratulated them, reading the time at 8:44 am. "You have all truly earned a place in Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta."

"Yes, Provost," they all agreed, reciting their new sorority, status, and solemn pledge of obedience.

"Fucktoy, come claim your reward." The call reached Pledge 5 and gave her a big, mindless smile as she fell to the floor, crawling to pull Tovah's pants down and give Provost the best orgasm she could. As Pledge 5 crawled, everyone else was told to reach a satisfying edge, while Chas, Cunt, and Bitch Beta were to be left frustrated all over again.

With a loving tongue between her legs, everything was going swimmingly for Tovah, and didn't notice the fraternity's front door being unlocked until it was too late. Lost in passion, her eyes finally took in the sight of Dean Forest, eyes about to bulge out of their sockets as she witness the sexual acts of her student body, especially her incognizant son.

"What the fuck is going on here? Who are you?!?" The noise only shook Tovah to her core, while the rest were too under to stop, except for Paul.

"This is Provost, Mom," he managed weakly.

More shock hit the dean, but seemed to peculiarly knock the wind out of her righteous sails.

"W-who?"

"I am Provost," Tovah spoke with authority and sensuality, shedding the momentary panic. Caught the way she was, noting how the word affected the likes of Brandy and others, she hoped beyond hoped the same effect applied to the latest visitor. "Provost, of Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta. And you are?"

The dean tried to fight, or think; it was hard to read her face, until all the muscles softened, and her interest suddenly transferred to something in her purse. She pulled out a phone, Tovah's phone. Turning it on and on its side, she stared at something she knew she needed to see. Tovah watched the whole scene as she came hard on Pledge 5's face, which caused a chain reaction amongst everyone else. Leaving Pledge 5 to cum, and everyone else to edge or be denied, she carefully circled where the college dean stood, pleased to see the same design over her phone, and Mrs. Forest's eyes being absorbed. 

Tovah suddenly envisioned the dean had come in the middle of the night, just like Officer Torres, and was brainwashed all the same, though very recklessly sent away to it on the missing phone, needing to watch it every time she heard the word "provost," whispering that word over and over to herself, opening her up to being just as mind-fucked as her son. 

"Assuming I haven't thought of a name for you yet, I'm sure I can think of something appropriately degrading and derogatory that you'll love as a new slave to Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta. That makes the Provost so happy. How about for you?"

"Provost," was the mindless utterance.

"Yes, and maybe as much as you deserve to parade around the campus with your son in helpless humiliation, I think I can find some better use for you. But don't worry, it'll be..." Tovah checked the wall clock again, and smirked crookedly "hour little secret."

***

It was a few months after Miss Mentalist's last show at Dean Forest's college. The news hadn't been kind to it as students Brandy Taylor and Satchel Green were expelled and brought up on charges date rape and producing drugs, after evidence had been uncovered by newly-promoted head security guard Torres. Dean Forest and her son had barely survived the stink of it all, but her reputation was deeply tarnished. She and her son's fraternity pledged themselves to doing better. 

They of course still invited Miss Mentalist to return, paying twenty times her standard performance rates. She put on another fantastic show at the Sigma-Phi-Beta house, but the after party was even better as everything was conveniently-arranged to show the owned sorority house of Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta. Tovah thoroughly-enjoyed watching new pledges learn to take control of their Beta boys, to help make them better, respectable men post-college was the convenient reasoning.

Gracie, formerly known as Pledge 5, was her star pupil and now the vice-Provost of ΗΥPΝΘ. Excelling at hypnosis and assisting with Tovah's digital experiments, Tovah watched proudly as Gracie carefully guided Paul Forest and another male, her new, submissive boyfriend, through their respective chastity and edging sessions. Gracie looked back at Tovah on her ΗΥPΝΘ throne, happy to make her mentor proud, licking her lips unconsciously as Tovah spread her legs. Once she was finished with the male pair, Gracie saw two pairs of wetted lips, one of them mouthing "fucktoy," urging hers to the wettest lips in the room.

After another satisfying cum for both of them, Tovah finally remembered what she'd wanted to ask after so long.

"Did you finally find out why Paul or any of them chose the name 'Provost?'"

"Yeah, I actually did, Provost. Paul admitted it sounded like a stupid title for a leader, and how everyone would be laughing at you for being called that."

"....really?"

"Really."

"Chas?" Tovah called Paul his old pet name in her phone sex voice, and he immediately looked her way.

"Provost," she whispered sensually, pointedly at him.

Sharp convulsions signaled anything but stupidity.

"Huh," Tovah laughed, "His reaction seems to imply a better description is needed for that. Like 'fucking amazing.'"

Tovah and Gracie looked at each other, sharing a knowing twinkle before the two shared more appreciation for the significant words used in Eta-Upsilon-Rho-Nu-Theta. Before Miss Mentalist's latest visit was done, there would be a twenty-four hour little secret to keep.