Lloyd's Angel Ch. 04

"I think I ruined Yelena's blouse," Susan said, looking at the button dangling literally by a thread and apparently uncaring of her exposed state.

She was a sight worth looking at, but I was more worried about my trousers. "I don't think I've ruined my pants, yet. I'm going to go visit the restroom and clean up, okay?"

"You can't open the door while I'm like this -- people might see!" exclaimed Susan, wide-eyed.

I couldn't help laughing. "What about me?"

"It's not funny, Lloyd. I wanted to show off for you, not the whole world."

"I appreciate the thought," I said, suddenly distracted. "But what made you decide to show me today? You seemed a little angry about it a couple days ago."

"You didn't ask very nicely. I'm a lady, not some piece of meat you just order around." Susan shrugged, making her breasts jiggle in interesting ways. "I thought about it, and it seemed exciting, especially since I knew you'd be receptive and I could trust you not to handle it badly."

Part of me didn't want to ask the next question, but Susan was a nice girl, and I was genuinely curious to hear her answer. "Do you think I -- you know -- made you do it?"

She considered it. "I don't think so." Susan pursed her lips. "I know I thought about it last night, and planned what I was going to do. I didn't feel compelled, or anything like that." Her face showed a faint blush, which was interesting. "But really, how would I know for sure?"

Susan continued, more thoughtfully. "I've never done anything like this before" -- she laughed -- "but a girl can't be prim and proper all the time. Except maybe Alexandra! If you did have something to do with it, you wouldn't make me do anything bad, would you?"

I tried for a poker face and hoped the heat I felt wasn't showing. "Alexandra said yesterday we'd only try things we all agreed to," I answered, and then changed the subject. "I really need to clean up."

"Oh, just a minute." She showed me a devilish grin, and Susan's suddenly dexterous fingers quickly unfastened the remaining buttons. She removed her top, giving me a full-frontal view of her body from the waist up, and pulled on her cardigan. "You can't see anything now, can you?" she asked, as she fastened the sweater.

"Well, no," I admitted, "but my imagination is running wild."

"That's the idea. Now go run along so we can get back to work."

My briefs were a sticky mess. After some internal debate, I finally ended up removing them in one of the bathroom stalls. I wasn't really comfortable going bare beneath my trousers, but I didn't want to risk the moisture soaking through. I made a mental note to start packing a spare pair, too.

I made my way back to the office, only to discover Susan was talking with a student. I belatedly remembered she had office hours, and suffered a panic attack thinking of what could have happened if the guy had showed up earlier. I quickly changed my plans, and wandered down the hallway to dump my paper towel-wrapped underwear discreetly in a trash can before returning. There had to be a better way of handling this.

It took Susan a few more minutes to sooth her student's angst regarding expected workload for the semester while I doodled on a notepad and thought. Afterwards, we had time to agree that we couldn't afford to get caught messing around in the office, but nothing else of interest occurred before Alexandra arrived.

Coming off her early recitation section, she looked more frazzled than usual as she dumped a stack of homework assignments on her desk and collapsed in her chair. "I think this wedding is going to kill me," she moaned, pushing a stray blonde tendril back behind her ear.

"What's wrong?" asked Susan, who was always ready to hear details.

"What isn't?" Alexandra asked the ceiling. "There's some problem with the invitations, the hall wants a bigger deposit than we can really afford, and the outfits for the groomsmen are still up in the air." She sighed and looked down again. "At least Jonathan is coming up this weekend and we'll hopefully get everything squared away."

I knew Jonathan -- never just "Jon," Heaven forbid -- was her fiance. "That's nice, but wouldn't it be easier for you to go home instead?" I asked, trying to sound helpful.

Both women turned disdainful looks upon me. "With Connie and Danny both here too?" Susan asked, demonstrating she was on top of things.

"Oh, yeah," I said, feeling like an idiot. Connie, Alexandra's best friend and her maid of honor, was also enrolled in the graduate program. Her younger brother, Danny, was in his senior year and one of the groomsmen. Obviously I hadn't been paying enough attention to their earlier conversations; that would have to change. "Sorry for putting my foot in it."

Alexandra waved off the apology. "Don't worry. I hear stupider questions in class, from people that are paying to ask them." She shook her head and leaned back. "So -- let's talk about our other interesting problem, shall we?"

"I've been thinking about that," I replied. I was thinking about it then, in fact; I was concentrating hard about trusting me. It was difficult, trying to do that and talk at the same time, but I hoped the women would just think I was choosing my words carefully.

I continued, "I see several issues with the experimental protocol. First, Susan and I were discussing this and there's a fundamental problem with measuring impact, if any, on a knowing subject. It'll be hard enough to figure out if there's any influence in the first place, right?" The girls nodded, but Alexandra was frowning. "If we tell Susan what we're going to try, how do any of us really know if she's responding to what we told her instead of, um, other influences?"

Alexandra spoke up immediately. "Granted. But, Lloyd, testing on unsuspecting subjects is completely unethical -- that's why we're not going to try anything all of us -- especially Susan -- haven't agreed to!"

"I know," I said, holding up my hands, "I know. I didn't mean going behind her back. I just think that telling her exactly what I'm supposed to be trying to do will be counterproductive."

"I have a suggestion," Susan chimed in. "We can all agree on some general areas that are okay to explore, but I'll give Alexandra my proxy to approve specific tests. That way I won't know what exactly is supposed to happen."

"That could work," nodded Alexandra.

"I suppose I should start keeping a journal," Susan mused. "That might make it easier to see if anything is happening, too." I mumbled something approving.

"Excellent!" Alexandra smiled, and loosened up enough to attempt a small joke. "Where shall we start first? I swear, Susan, if you had worn that top again, I would have asked Lloyd to make you take it off -- Yelena can wear what she likes, but I think it made you look cheap." All of us smiled, and Alexandra, ignorant of the real joke, looked pleased at her success.

We spent the rest of the morning debating strategy and blocking out the high level steps we'd pursue next. All of us exerted a significant amount of intellectual effort and I found the session surprisingly engaging. We were reluctant to break up at lunchtime, but agreed Alexandra and I would meet privately the next day to plan our first experiment. It was disconcerting to feel the unexpected freedom of my penis when I stood up and recalled how the morning had started.

I was far from satisfied, but decided it made a lot of sense to stick largely to the plan we'd devised together until I knew more. A misstep would be embarrassing at best, and possibly far worse. Besides, I was in it for the long haul, not just a short-term fling.

It was about that point I realized, somewhat to my surprise, that I wanted Alexandra and intended to get her -- even if I had to cheat. Sure, she was drop-dead gorgeous, but looks weren't everything and she had that ice queen personality going on. Somewhere in the last month she'd kind of snuck up on me and I realized there was a first-class mind beneath those blonde locks, and an engaging personality if you got past her defenses.

Normally, the fact she was engaged to a guy who, judging by her ring, was a heck of a lot richer than I'd ever be would be considered an insurmountable obstacle. I told myself that women had changed their minds before, even without the sort of help I intended to provide. The trick would be to not screw up a good thing with a stupid mistake.

If there was anything to our guesses and it came to light, I could see myself locked up in some government lab for the rest of my life. If Alexandra realized anything like what I planned was happening, she'd leave and I'd be out of luck. Bumbling might leave me with a compliant body, bereft of the mind I admired. I could see already this wouldn't just be science; it would be art, too. My cock lengthened in anticipation.

Dr. Reynolds was all smiles Friday morning after Alexandra told him, in suitably vague terms, that she was following some promising leads. I said little but tried different approaches to convey disinterest in Alexandra's project; I didn't want any more oversight if I could help it.

After our meeting was over, the two of us bundled up and trudged around the quad to the new annex, and then downstairs to the basement. "You live in a cave," Alexandra commented when I showed her into my office and turned on the light.

"Yes, but it's a warm cave," I rejoined, hanging my coat and jacket on the rack appropriated from an office upstairs. The ceiling was a little low and there were no windows, but it was a little larger than her office and I didn't have to share it with anybody. "I like it." Brushing off my manners, I helped Alexandra remove her coat and hung it up, too. As usual, she was tastefully, if conservatively, dressed.

"Well, it might be more comfortable to work here during the winter," admitted Alexandra, "but you conducted all the surveys in the Evans Building, right? I don't want to introduce any more variables, at least at first."

I nodded agreement. Alexandra's original study was focused on basically emotional response -- "do you like this more or less than that?" -- and we strongly suspected I'd been able to affect those responses. What we didn't know, and wanted to find out, was whether that was the limit of my alleged capabilities or not.

Consequently, we'd decided to try a sequence of trials to test my capability for emotional influence, intellectual influence, and physical influence. Susan wouldn't know the specific tests, which Alexandra and I were about to discuss, or even the order in which I'd try them. When we met this afternoon, I'd try each for 10 minutes or until it was clear something had happened.

"Well, easy stuff first," I said. "Write a word on a piece of paper, show it to me, and put it in your purse. I'll try to communicate it to Susan."

Alexandra grinned. "Easy?"

"Well, easy to think about and confirm," I countered.

She produced a small address book, thought a moment, wrote something, and tore out the page to hand to me.

"Cyan?" I asked, returning it to her.

"It's short and abstract," said Alexandra, as she folded the paper and slipped it back into the address book. "You can't cheat by sending a mental image of an object, and if you manage to project the color, Susan's as likely to say 'teal' or 'turquoise' -- which would tell us something, too."

I was impressed again, and said so. "Do you have any equally clever suggestions for the other tests?"

"Of course," she replied. I had enough familiarity now to recognize her extremely dry and understated sense of humor, rather than confusing it for self-superiority. "I thought we'd go out to Nino's again tonight -- Jonathan wants to meet my school friends."

I'm sure I looked blank as I processed the non-sequitur, my apparent promotion to "friend," and Alexandra's unconscious assumption that of course we'd be free on a Friday night. Not that she wasn't right, at least in my case, but it was a little annoying.

"You remember the fry conversation from last time?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," I answered, smiling now. Susan had been mock-horrified when Alexandra and I had "tainted" our fries by putting ketchup on them. She'd steadfastly refused to put anything on hers, insisting that ketchup was solely for burgers and meatloaf.

"Well, try to convince her she likes ketchup on French fries, and we'll see what happens."

I matched her wicked grin. "And Susan agreed to this?"

"In principle. It's harmless -- she likes fries, and she likes ketchup; just not together. Besides, she won't be expecting it then, and it will be interesting to see both if she puts any ketchup on them in the first place, and what she does if she eats one."

There was no question Alexandra had a twisty mind, and I reminded myself to tread extremely carefully before trying anything with her. "Won't Susan be expecting something this afternoon?"

"I brought in some new lipsticks. I'll ask her which one she likes best. It doesn't matter which one she picks; just look disappointed and tell her it didn't work. We can tell her about the real test after dinner."

"I can do that," I agreed. "You're going to try them on, right?"

"Well, of course. How else would anybody know what the color really looks like?"

"Excuse me, I'm a guy." I smiled. "How about if you have Susan try them on too, and I'll see if I can make her hand jerk while she's applying one? That should be easy to spot, and easy to clean up, too."

"Great thought, Lloyd!" Alexandra flashed a brief smile that would have warmed me even if we'd been in her office rather than mine. "Now we just have to choose an order."

"No problem," I assured her, and fished a penny out of my pocket. "Heads, we do the lipstick first; tails, we try the word first." I flipped it and it came up tails. "Anything else?"

"Just that it will be really important for you to note anything you can think of about what you try or any sensations you have."

I nodded again. "Certainly. I think I'll start keeping a journal, too."

"We'll see you about 4:00, then." Alexandra rose and pulled on her coat before I could get there to help, and exited without any further conversation.

I know I did useful things that day, and even attended a lecture, but nothing stuck in my mind. All I could think of was my afternoon appointment.

Exactly on time, I strolled into their office and hung up my coat. Both of the girls looked a little nervous, but I couldn't blame them because I felt the same way, too. "Hey, calm down, ladies. I think I'm the one on trial here."

"Right," Alexandra said, and settled herself in her chair.

Susan followed suit. She was looking good in another cardigan, more form-fitting than others I remembered but not tight. What, if anything, might be beneath it I couldn't tell.

"If you're ready, Lloyd?"

I pulled a composition book and pen out of my briefcase, and leaned back in my chair. I was tenser than I'd expected, and took a deep breath to try and calm myself. "Go ahead."

Alexandra briefly consulted the notes in front of her. I saw the folded page torn from her address book sitting on the tabletop, but she didn't refer to it or glance at it. "Okay, Susan, we're going to start now."

That was the last thing any of us said for ten minutes. We all looked at each other, occasionally scribbling a brief note, while I thought "CYAN" as hard as I could and stared at Susan.

"Time," Alexandra spoke softly into the silence. I had a bit of a headache from concentrating so hard, but nothing seemed to have happened. Susan opened her mouth, but Alexandra cut her off, saying, "Afterwards."

I rocked back and forth in my chair a few times, and cracked my knuckles, then nodded.

"This should be a little more entertaining," Alexandra smiled. "I have a few new shades of lipstick, and I thought we might try them on." She leaned back to her desk and grabbed first a box of tissues, and then several tubes. A compact mirror came out of a drawer.

Susan started by looking at the color chips on the ends of the tubes and writing a few notes. She and Alexandra then began alternating, each girl wiping off her current color and applying a new one while the other watched.

I focused on Susan, dutifully concentrating on how great fries with ketchup tasted while Alexandra was applying lipstick, and trying to make Susan's hand bounce when she was doing her own lips. I generally ignored the lipstick, until they came to a deep vivid red. It was the sort of thing a girl might wear to a party, vibrant and eye-catching, and too flashy for regular clothes. It made me think of sex.

Without really thinking about the merits or my earlier caution, I concentrated on that color, and how beautiful and attractive and sexy lips that shade were. I still had no idea what I was doing, but I focused hard on each girl as she examined herself in the mirror.

Whether by chance or planning -- I would have bet on the latter -- the last color was pretty close to the muted rose that Alexandra normally wore. As had been the case with each application before it, Susan's hand never wavered.

Alexandra called time and everybody scribbled a few more notes in their logs. My headache had diminished slightly; I didn't know if it was because I had been alternating between two different things, or due to the first attempt being harder than the others. I duly recorded those thoughts without mentioning my unplanned detour.

"Well?" Alexandra asked, providing only the bare minimum prompting.

"Midnight Siren, obviously," answered Susan with a wide smile.

I worked at maintaining a neutral expression. I was surprised, not so much that she'd identified the red that I liked, but at her level of confidence.

Alexandra looked a little startled, too. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, come on," Susan laughed. "I had Autumn Rose down on my initial list; Midnight Siren was maybe number three. Now I just love it!" Both girls looked at me.

Clearly Susan was no idiot, either. "I was concentrating on that browny-looking one," I protested, trying to look disappointed. "That red did look nice, though -- speaking off the clock, if you will."

Susan suddenly looked uncertain. "Drat! I was so sure." She sighed and continued, "I guess that's why we don't just go by the colors on the tubes."

Alexandra was studying the lipsticks again. "Yes, it did look better than I expected. Although you couldn't wear it with just anything..." She visibly shook herself and refocused her attention on Susan. "Anything else?" I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"What? That's it?" Susan asked.

"We doubled up," I broke in. "I was trying to make you smear yourself, but your hand was steady as a rock the whole time. I didn't have the slightest sense anything was happening."

Susan stuck out her tongue at me. "What about the third test? Or the first, I guess?"

"Does this mean anything to you?" Alexandra asked, holding up the folded slip of paper.

"Noooo," Susan answered hesitantly. She paused a moment longer and shook her head. "No, I don't think so." Alexandra handed over the paper; Susan unfolded and read it. "Cyan? Honestly, it's still drawing a blank."

"I was trying to communicate that word to you," I explained. "It gave me more of a headache than anything else did, for whatever that's worth."

Alexandra jotted down a few more thoughts in her log before closing it. "Well; zero for three on our first try. Just remember, Rome wasn't built in a day -- we'll try again next week. In the meantime, if you'd care to accompany me to Nino's?"

All of us were happy to abandon the gloom of the office for the warmer and more convivial atmosphere of the pub. Once inside, Alexandra made straight for one of the large round tables, which was occupied by a mismatched couple. They rose as we approached.