Ken pushed on the door to the laundry closet and breathed a sigh of relief when it opened silently. He didn’t know what he’d say if his parents woke up and found him in here. But that possibility wasn’t enough to deter him. He closed the door carefully, then groped around in the dark until he found his target: a mesh laundry hamper. Shortly afterward his hands closed around the real prize: his favorite hoodie, still dirty from earlier, when his mom had lent it to his stupefyingly gorgeous calculus tutor. As Ken removed his undershirt and drew the hoodie over his head, he thought about how she’d somehow coaxed him into jerking off against the leg of his desk. It was like one moment they’d been having a normal study session, and the next he was cumming so hard in his pants that he’d had to tell his mom he’d do his own laundry from now on.

Ken’s cock twitched as he sniffed the hoodie. It smelled kind of like sweat: heavy, but not bitter, perhaps even slightly sweet; the kind of scent that results from studying and learning all day, tinged with a hint of his bathroom soap. Most of all, it smelled like her.

Ken reached into the laundry hamper again, grabbed his athletic shorts that she’d worn, and put them on over his boxers, and his erection, now nearly full, created an obvious tent in the garment. He imagined how the shiny black material had sheathed the tops of her creamy thighs. It was almost like wearing her skin. Maybe I really am a pervert.

Ken braced himself against the wall, grabbed his cock through her–his–shorts, and felt his shaft twitch as he took another huff of the hoodie. The closet was tiny and uncomfortable, with barely enough space to open the washer and dryer, but Ken hardly noticed. Wearing Amy’s dirty clothes filled him with a perverse sort of pleasure, and every thought about her brought him closer to succumbing to the aching need in his crotch.

This is so wrong. The more he squirmed in the clothes she’d worn, the more his self-control seemed to dim, replaced by fantasies of the school’s princess invading his home, wearing his clothes, and–although she’d conditioned him too well to realize it–taking over his mind. He pulled the hoodie strings closed, took a deep breath, and allowed the scent to overwhelm him.

I shouldn’t be doing this, was the last thought of resistance that flickered as Ken’s conscious mind faded away, and he stroked himself into a trance of pure sexual pleasure.

Everything for Princess Amy. Everything for Princess Amy. Everything for Princess Amy…

—

Ken woke up the next morning–in his own bed, somehow–with a notification on his phone.

Hi Ken! Super busy today but if you’d like to get some more work done, I’ll be in the student council room after clubs are over and we can do a little impromptu study sesh. Let me know! :-)

How can she be so casual? His second thought, following close behind, was to wonder how she’d managed to find a phone that didn’t support emojis. Ken sat up, wiped the sleep from his eyes, and drafted a reply, but just before he sent it something tugged at his mind. He amended the text to read simply: I’d love to, Miss Amy.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Good boy. ;-)

—

Kaneko Academy was a large enough school that you could easily miss someone in the mass of bodies that thronged the hallway between classes, but you couldn’t miss Amy Matsumura. The crowd seemed to part before her, as if the red Student Council armband she wore created a personal force field. Further back she’d reprimanded one boy for having part of his shirt untucked, and nobody wanted to incur the president’s disapproval, no matter how charming her smile. The vice president, Stella Hayashi, bounced along beside her, giggling in conversation with Amy. Debate raged among the boys in the student body over which girl was hotter, and although Ken had always preferred Amy’s curves and deep blue eyes, he had to admit that Stella’s tits slightly edged out the presidents’ in size. Nicknames of varying crassness tended to follow any mention of the duo in boys’ locker rooms, and Ken tried not to think of them, as if Amy might read his thoughts when she passed by. During school meetings, when the two stood on stage in the school’s auditorium, Ken often found his eyes glued to their chests from afar, as if they were magnetic. But he didn’t normally pay much attention passing them in the hall, except to notice the gaggle of girls that followed in their wake. Even if he were friendly with someone as beautiful and charming as Amy Matsumura, he would almost certainly be too shy to say hello.

But Amy Matsumura wasn’t a normal friend. Without really even thinking about it, Ken walked right through the gap in the crowd toward Amy, who hadn’t noticed him yet. He felt almost possessed, compelled by some unseen force to acknowledge her. Fear gripped him as he watched himself pass by her and open his mouth.

“Hi, Amy.” Ken’s voice cracked, just a little.

“Hi Ken!” Amy flashed him a quick smile and waved at him with her fingers.

A few of the girls in Amy’s entourage turned their heads toward him but otherwise no one noticed, and he continued down the hall, heart pounding.

Maybe I am going crazy.

—

Ken jumped back as the door to the student council room swung open and an underclassman boy rushed out. “Th-th-thank you miss Matsumura!” the boy called to her.

Ken found Amy inside, staring quizzically at an apple she held in her hand. Amy’s fitted blazer clung to her waist, accentuating her hourglass figure. Her posture, immaculate as ever, drew an unusual contrast with the confused look on her face.

“You get those often?” Ken asked, setting down his backpack and taking a seat across from her.

“Once in a while,” Amy said. “It’s cute when a freshman does it.”

“But not a senior?”

Amy’s lips curled into a smile. “If you ever give me an apple as thanks for our tutoring sessions, I will punish you.” She leaned in toward Ken, forcing him to stare into her bright blue eyes. “And you won’t enjoy it.”

She smelled the same as her clothes when she’d worn them last night, albeit with a hint of perfume instead of body wash. Ken’s head swam for a moment before he remembered to respond.

“Yes… princess.”

She sat back and crossed her arms, apparently satisfied. “You’re not that cringe, though.”

“I-I’m not?” Ken found that hard to believe, considering how he stuttered in her presence.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. But come to think of it, I don’t know that much about you, Ken Nishihara.”

“Okay, um… what do you want to know?”

“Hm. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. How about…” Amy paused to stare at the apple again. “What’s your favorite fruit?” She grabbed it and took a small bite.

“...What?”

“What, I can’t ask you what your favorite fruit is?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to be so, um, nonchalant after, you know, last night…”

Amy rested her chin in one hand and slid her elbows toward him so that her eyes rested only inches from his own. “What happened last night?” she asked knowingly, her eyebrows forming an innocent pout. As he began to form an answer she waved her hand in front of his face rhythmically, her fingers making slow sweeping motions that Ken followed obediently with his eyes.

A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he struggled to form a coherent thought. “We, uh, you, uh, you know, we–”

“The problem, Ken, is that if I’m not nonchalant…” Amy’s voice dripped with seduction, “this happens.” She mimed snapping her fingers, and Ken’s eyelids fluttered so deeply they threatened to close. For a split second his eyes rolled back, and then he seemed to regain his senses and slowly refocused on Amy. “See what I mean?”

“Yes, princess.”

“But more importantly,” she said, her voice regaining its usual tone as she drew herself back upright, “I wanna get to know you! I’ve been to your house and met your parents already, but I was thinking today about how it feels like I barely know anything about you.”

“Maybe watermelon. It reminds me of summer picnics when I was a kid.”

Amy nodded approvingly. “Man, a picnic sounds nice. Too bad it’s freaking March.” Ken briefly imagined asking her out on a picnic date before dismissing the idea. “Okay, better question: what club are you in?”

“I was in the tech crew, but I quit–”

“You quit?! Ken, don’t tell me you’re in the ‘going home club!’”

Joining a club wasn’t required at Kaneko Academy, but its social culture heavily revolved around them: your club was your friend group, your after-school activity, your hangout spot, and so on. And as an elite school whose students took the hardest college entrance exams, the expectation of being in a club at Kaneko Academy was even stronger. So Amy’s remonstration wasn’t entirely unwarranted.

“I-I guess you could say that. I was behind on schoolwork, so I wanted to take some time off.”

“Pupils of mine must all be part of a club,” Amy said, crossing her arms in resolve. “And although I especially enjoy tutoring you, I can’t make an exception.” She thought for a moment while Ken stared at his lap, blushing at the compliment. “How about… class rep?”

“Class rep?! But we already picked those like, months ago.” Every homeroom class at Kaneko had two representatives, one boy and one girl, who interfaced with the student council. It was a desirable position only for people who wanted to pad their college applications. So Ken couldn’t imagine Jonas Ishida, his class’s male rep and one of the most serious students at Kaneko aside from Amy, giving up his spot willingly.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Amy said, and Ken thought he could detect a scheming look flash across her face for a split second. “It’s an easy job, don’t worry.”

“Okay… I’ll think about it. I’m already booked through this week worrying about this math exam, though.”

“Oh really? What’s got you so worried about it?” Amy leaned forward and crossed her legs, and Ken fought not to glance down towards the upper thigh skin peeking out from beneath her skirt.

“I-I mean my assignments have been going great since you started tutoring me, but I’m not a good test-taker. Even when I know the material, it’s like I choke in that kind of environment.”

“Hm…” Amy began to play with her lips with one finger. “That’s so interesting.”

“Interesting?” Surely she meant ‘distressing,’ or perhaps ‘terrifying.’

“Ken, you don’t really have any homework left tonight, do you?”

If Ken hadn’t been busy staring at Amy’s pretty lips, he might have protested at the way she’d just changed the subject. “No, princess. I finished it all this afternoon like you asked me to.”

Amy nodded slightly in approval. “And you were right on time for our meeting.”

“Yes, princess.” Is she wearing lipstick? He’d never noticed it on her until now.

“So you managed to work diligently, for a grade, with a time constraint. Did you ever stop to wonder how you were able to do that?”

Ken hadn’t thought of it that way. “No, princess.” Although he almost said, because you asked me to, princess.

“Good.” Amy kissed her index finger lightly, making soft smacking noises as she did so. Then she pointed at her pupil. She was teasing him again, Ken was sure of it. “It’s because you were in what’s called a flow state.” A nerdy excitement quickly replaced the sultry edge in her voice. Ken opened his mouth to ask a question, but Amy continued before he could verbalize it. “A flow state is a mental state characterized by increased focus and productivity, and decreased negative emotionality. Whenever you’re really engrossed in an activity, that’s a flow state. I learned about it in the college psychology class I took last semester, and it’s something I’m trying to apply to my tutoring.

“Many different factors play a role in determining ‘flow:’ your environment, your mood, your company… for example, you might have an easier time entering a flow state spending a long night studying with me than you would doing a timed assignment alone in class. Make sense?”

“Yeah.” Ken nodded. Of course, everything felt easier around her. He liked listening to Amy explain things, especially when she was passionate about the subject. He liked watching her hand gestures become animated, and listening to her voice as it gained a sort of rhythm.

“So if we can develop your ability to experience flow, you’ll be able to ace the exam, no problem.”

“Okay, but how do we do that?”

“Like this.” She stood up from her chair and rolled a stand-up white board into the middle of the room, between the desk and the door.

“Do you need any help with that?”

Ken made to get up from his seat, but Amy brushed him off. “That’s sweet of you, but I can handle it,” she said with a grunt. “Maybe when you’re class rep.” She winked at him and began to draw.

Ken looked down at his lap in embarrassment. After a moment he looked up to see that she had drawn a full diagram of the brain–each region, in an impressive amount of detail, along an arrow to its functions on the side.

“Okay,” she said triumphantly, capping her marker with a click and setting it down on the rack below the board. Ken fought to pay attention to Amy’s neat handwriting and not her impressively short skirt, or, just below it, the skin that squished out over the tops of her tight thigh highs. “What we’re going to do is a timed exercise. I’d like you to study the board as closely as you can for two minutes.”

“Um, miss… No math?”

“No math,” Amy said. “I think maybe the math part is stressing you out, and preventing you from experiencing flow.”

“That’s a lot of writing to learn in two minutes if I don’t wanna be stressed out.”

“Just do your best,” Amy said with a serene smile. “Who knows–maybe you’ll surprise yourself. Starting… now.” She eyed the clock while Ken crammed as many of the words as he could into his short-term memory.

“One minute left.” The student council president’s silky voice floated into his ears as he studied the temporal lobe section. Hearing, language processing…

Ken had just started on the cerebellum when Amy began to count the last ten seconds. “...Two, one, and, stop. Now,” she said, rising again from her seat and smoothing out her skirt, “is the test.”

“Oof, I barely retained any of that.”

“Well, Ken, the test isn’t actually about how much you remembered. It’s about how much you can forget. I’m going to erase some of the words from the board, and as I do I’d like you to imagine erasing them from your memory. Pretend like you never even read them in the first place.”

Ken found the task strange but calming, made easier by stealing glances at Amy’s ass as she bent over to wipe clean the lower letters. All the while she coached him along, calmly instructing him to cast certain words–’balance and coordination’, then ‘emotional processing’--out of his mind, until only a few remained on the board.

“The goal is to practice switching your focus,” she reminded him, “so that you’re completely engaged with every word when I speak it. Makes sense, right?”

It made perfect sense. Everything Amy did made perfect sense because she was perfect, and the way her skirt gently swished as she paraded across the white board seemed to emphasize that fact. “Now I’d like you to pay extra attention to the last few words I’ve written.”

Ken stared at the one she was pointing toward with her eraser. Inhibition.

“And as I erase this word, ‘inhibition,’ I’d like you to push the entire concept out of your mind, letter by letter.” The eraser gently rubbed the space clean. “Like it was never even there.”

“And again with this word, ‘emotions.’ Let your emotions fade into the distance for me as I erase it.” Ken concentrated on forgetting just as hard as he had studied the board for her, just moments earlier. No emotions.

“And now for this word.” Thoughts. “Imagining your thoughts floating off into the distance, one by one, with every letter I wipe away.”

Only one word remained, alongside the now-empty diagram of the brain. Awareness. “And finally, with this last word, your awareness of anything other than me will vanish completely.” Ken sat, transfixed, as his beautiful tutor erased the last of his thoughts, the last of his mind. He stared at her, unthinking, his head just as empty as Amy’s drawing.

She strode over to him slowly. “No thoughts. No emotions. Only me.”

“Only you,” Ken whispered, dazed.

“Sleep for me, Ken.” She snapped her fingers, and his awareness flickered off.

—

Amy had begun to savor her pupil’s reactions every time she dropped him into trance. This time, Ken’s eyes rolled back as he slowly fell forward into Amy’s arms. Delicious. Watching him lose control made her pussy tingle, even if it felt wrong admitting it.

“Very good. And just sinking deeper and deeper with every word I speak. That’s it. Such a good student, staying nice and relaxed and dreamy.

“Now, do you know why I called you into my office today?” She said it with almost a giggle, not that Ken would have noticed. Amy liked pretending to be a teacher sometimes.

“No, princess,” he said groggily.

“It wasn’t to learn math, or brain functions, or even flow states. You’re perfectly capable of all of those on your own.”

“But–”

“But you still need me? Of course you do. You need me more than anything in the world. Isn’t that right?”

Ken nodded, his eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused.

“Good. Very good, Ken. Are you ready to take the next step? To learn how to truly please me?”

“Yes, princess.”

“Then get on your knees. I have a very special lesson for you today.”

—

Ken slid out of his chair, and his knees hit the carpet with a soft thud. He stared up at Amy obediently, expectantly, over the desk that separated the two of them.

“Come here, boy,” Amy said, her voice soft but commanding. Ken glanced toward her and gasped.

Under the table, Amy held her skirt up with one hand, revealing–on purpose this time–her entire crotch. Ken’s heart jumped into his throat, although he could barely see what lay beneath. He slowly crawled between her legs to get a better view and found himself underneath the desk, his head between her thighs. She closed them slowly, until they brushed against his ears.

“Remember how I said it would be my turn next time?”

“Yes, princess,” he whispered, awestruck. Under her school uniform Amy wore a pair of sheer, black-lined panties, her pussy clearly visible beneath them. Ken imagined the care it had taken her to keep from flashing her bare pussy the rest of the day, especially considering how short she wore her skirt.

“Tonight, you’re going to learn what to do with this,” she said, slipping her free hand under the waistband of her skirt and lightly tapping on her mound. “Have you ever seen a pussy before?”

“N-no, princess.” Ken stiffened a little, involuntarily.

“Ah ah–Ken. Up here.” Ken wrenched his eyes away from Amy’s crotch and craned his neck to meet his tutor’s gaze. Through his trance, he noticed the lust in her face. Is she sweating?

“Relax for me,” she said, and Ken’s mind went blank again. “It’s okay. I like that you’re inexperienced. It makes you so much easier to teach. So much more open and receptive to my commands. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes, princess.”

“Relax for me.” Ken’s posture softened. “This is the prettiest pussy you’ll ever see. And I’m going to tell you exactly how to worship it and how to make princess feel as good as possible.” Amy let go of her skirt, and it landed gently on Ken’s head. Through the relative darkness he saw her other hand slide under her panties, and Amy spread her slit open with her index and ring finger.

“To begin our lesson: this,” she said, touching the top of her opening with her middle finger, “is the clitoral hood. Beneath it is the clitoris. Do you know what that is?”

Ken whimpered an affirmative, too mesmerized to form words.

“Good. So you know that when a girl rubs it, it feels really, really good.” Amy began to swirl her finger over it, and after a moment she let out a soft moan. She masturbated herself slowly for the better part of a minute while her pupil watched on his knees obediently, listening to the shlicking sounds as they grew wetter and wetter. Then reluctantly she slowed to a stop, as if coming to her senses. “Now this,” she said, moving her finger down further, “is the vaginal opening. See how wet it is?” Amy slipped her finger inside for a second, and it emerged slick with fluid.

“I’m going to rub my clit, and you’re going to lick my pussy through my panties and suck all my yummy juices up with your mouth. And you’ll imagine it’s the sweetest, tastiest watermelon you’ve ever had. The flavor will feel so real and vivid that you’ll lick as deep as you possibly can to get more of it. You’ll never want to stop. You don’t care where you are, or what time it is, or about anything that could distract you… all you’ll know is pleasing me. And you’ll keep licking and sucking and kissing until princess is satisfied. Understand?” Amy offered her finger and Ken took it in his mouth, suckling eagerly. As she pulled away a line of spit fell into his lap, but Ken didn’t even notice, fixated instead on the heavenly pink folds just inches from his face. He whimpered again, full of need, his slacks bulging to constrain his erection.

“Good. Good boy.” Amy scootched forward in her chair, moved her finger back up to her clit and began masturbating again. With her other hand she grabbed Ken’s head and guided his face toward her slit. Instinctively, he stuck his tongue out and began to lick.

—

Chloe sighed as she closed the door to the library. Another grueling afternoon under the thumb of Ms. Miura and her omniscient sense of hearing. No normal person could hear music from that far away, and no normal person would force Chloe to fill the shelves in total silence.

Whatever. Chloe was the one graduating in a few months, and in college she’d be able to play black metal through her headphones whenever she wanted.

Chloe had just turned to put her foot on the stairs when she saw a light at the end of the hall. The student council room.

Normally this wasn’t unusual, but this time Chloe paused. Could Ken be in there? She’d watched him leave the library not too long ago. It wasn’t a crazy possibility, she told herself. It also wasn’t crazy to find it weird that Ken had been hanging out with the student council president in the first place. It’s not like I like him or anything. He was her friend, even if he had quit the tech crew, and she knew when his behavior seemed off.

That had to be why Chloe felt a pit in her stomach, and why she found herself turning away from the stairs and rush-walking down the hall. Her steps echoed in Kaneko’s evening silence, and as she neared it she changed her gait to a tiptoe, just in case. Of what, Chloe wasn’t sure. But what she saw as she drew up to the small window in the door was far beyond anything she imagined.

Inside sat a wheeled white board and beyond it, through the gap between the bottom of the board and the floor she saw a boy’s–no, Ken’s knees, she somehow knew–kneeling in between a girl’s legs. And, peeking out from the side of the board, was the student council president’s long, black hair, swinging rhythmically side to side.

Chloe stared, aghast. There was no mistaking it. Someone–Ken–was having sex with Amy Matsumura. Okay, not having sex; the body parts didn’t line up right. Chloe cursed her own inexperience. Is… is he eating her out?

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

Chloe might have found the idea hot if it weren’t so insane. She averted her eyes away from the two students and kneeled down to put an ear up against the door. Low moans emanated from inside, muffled but unmistakable.

What do I do?

She couldn’t report the incident to the student council; Amy was the student council. Stella, the vice president, was the kind of girl who’d spread it around the entire school immediately. And either way, Chloe would rather die than be known as the girl who caused drama with the popular kids.

She considered telling a teacher but dismissed the idea just as fast. The only people Chloe hated more than popular kids were narcs, and narcing likely involved talking with someone like Ms. Miura.

No. There was only one person she could maybe, maybe get advice from. When he wasn’t being a total idiot.

A slightly louder moan interrupted Chloe’s thoughts, and she rose and bolted on her tiptoes toward the stairs.

—

Why does this feel so good? Amy had never been eaten out like this before. Ken made up for his lack of experience by being relentless. His tongue had pushed so hard against her panties that, wet with spit and precum, they’d threatened to be swallowed up into her pussy, so she’d let him push them to the side, allowing him access to her bare skin.

Amy hadn’t meant to do that. This was supposed to be a tease, a way to build up his need for her by denying him the privilege of giving her oral directly. But it simply felt too good to have a hypnotized pet, devoted only to pleasuring her. And Ken was very good at it.

He quickly began to explore deeper, past the folds of her labia and into her tight, wet hole. She gasped as Ken penetrated her with his tongue, and that only encouraged him to push in deeper.

Amy looked down at him as he latched onto her cunt with his lips. His eyes were unfocused, glassy. She liked knowing what she’d done to him. That she’d made him this way. The control she had over him felt exhilarating in a way she’d never experienced before.

“Right there, yeah, oh you eat that pussy so good.” Amy said in as much of a whisper as she could manage. Unlike some more modern schools, the students cleaned the classrooms in the afternoon, so there weren’t any janitors roving the halls at this hour. But it didn’t hurt to be careful. “Mmm you’re princess’s little pussy slut, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” came the reply.

“Yeah? Isn’t it sooo pretty? I shaved it last night you know, just for you.”

“Mmm.” The vibration of his voice on her crotch sent a sensual shiver up Amy’s spine.

“I’m gonna–I’m gonna tell you a secret…” Amy paused to take a breath. “I wanna make you crazy for me. I want you completely obsessed. I want you to show me how far you’ll go for me.” She ran a hand through her pupil’s hair affectionately.

“Princess? Can I tell you something?” Ken said meekly, taking his lips off of Amy’s crotch. She gently drew his gaze up to meet hers. Ken’s eyes shone with adoration.

“Yes, Ken?” Amy quickly adjusted herself in her chair, hiked up her skirt, and slowly began to fuck herself with two fingers while her other hand continued to tease her clit.

“Last night after you left,” he said, interspersing his words with kisses along her upper thighs and abdomen, “before my mom washed my clothes… I put on that hoodie you wore, and the shorts… and I jerked off thinking about you. Right on the floor of the laundry closet.”

“Holy fuck.” Amy’s body began to tense up as she fucked herself faster. “Holy fuck that’s so hot. I own you, don’t I.”

“I could probably cum again in my pants right now if you’d let me. I wouldn’t even have to touch.”

“Uh-uh.” Amy shook her head, and strands of hair fell across her chest and shoulders. Not tonight. Tonight is for my pleasure, and you are going to be a good boy and wait your turn. Understand?”

Ken whimpered in resignation.

“You’re completely fucking mine. Come here.”

“Yes, princes–mmf!” Amy grabbed his head with both hands and shoved it into her crotch.

“Right on the clit. That’s it, good boy. Make princess cum with your mouth. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmm!” Ken latched onto Amy’s crotch with his lips and flicked her clit frantically. With one hand he grabbed her ass and pulled her into him, and with the other he began sliding a finger in and out of her sopping wet pussy, the way she had done to herself just a moment before.

Then two fingers.

Then three.

Amy’s warm thighs closed around Ken’s ears, and she rolled her hips into his face. Desperate for more stimulation, she untucked part of her shirt and jammed a hand up it to fondle her breast, pinching and rubbing her nipple. Amy’s muscles tightened as she prepared to crest the wave of orgasm. The two became a mess of squelching sounds, sweat, and body parts as Ken masturbated his beautiful tutor past the point of no return.

Finally it hit her. Ecstasy flooded Amy’s body, waves of pleasure that centered on her crotch and radiated out through every nerve. Her hips trembled involuntarily as the orgasm ripped through her. If a teacher had walked in on them, she wouldn’t have been able to hide any of it, but in the moment Amy didn’t care. She wanted to scream, to moan, to yell to Ken, don’t stop don’t stop don’t fucking stop! But she didn’t need to do more than gasp. Her pupil kept going as she rode the euphoric high, lapping at her slit while she matched the rhythm of his tongue with her hips. Finally, after the length of several male orgasms, the pleasure began to subside.

Amy ran her hand back and forth through Ken’s hair. “Good boy. Goood boy,” she whispered. “You did amazing. Such a good plaything.” He mewled in satisfaction and nuzzled her upper thigh. “Yeah, stay nice and deep for me.”

As Amy caught her breath and prepared herself to sculpt Ken’s mind and memories once again, one thing felt certain: she loved being in control.

Amy sat up and stretched, twisting her arms and torso a few times. She felt like she’d almost pulled a muscle, but shaking orgasms tended to do that to you. Then she tucked her shirt back into her pleated skirt, smoothed it, and buttoned up her blazer.

“Up here, Ken.” Her pupil stopped mindlessly cuddling her thigh highs and stared up at her reverently, still on his knees. Amy leaned down as if to kiss him but instead grabbed her left stocking and pulled it tight along her leg with a snap.

“Relax for me.” Ken’s eyes unfocused, and Amy reached for her right stocking. Snap. “Relax for me.” His jaw went slack. “Staring so deeply into my eyes, that’s it. And feeling your mind dropping so very deep as you do. Deeper and deeper, thoughts fading away.” Amy smoothed her hair on both sides and took a breath, finally feeling back to normal. She sat up straight and raised a hand, her thumb poised against her middle finger.

“Relax for me.” Snap. The awareness vanished from Ken’s face.

As Amy weaved suggestions into Ken’s subconscious, she resolved to be more careful in the future. She’d gotten carried away again, and she didn’t like it. As far as anyone else knew, Amy Matsumura never got carried away.

Ken accepted without question that he always be open to pleasing her, sexually or otherwise. That his proper place was beneath her, serving her, and that in return she would take care of all his worries and anxieties about trivialities like exams. She could see Ken’s breathing slow as she comforted him, whispering encouragement about how good a subject and a listener he was. All she needed from him was complete obedience, and she would take care of everything else.

A short time later she brought him back up, leaving a single, mantra-like thought ringing in his mind: Everything for Princess Amy. Everything for Princess Amy. Everything for Princess Amy.

Amy felt confident that Ken wouldn’t tell anyone about their relationship. But if she ever got caught, convincing someone else not to might not be so easy.