A Leashed Tiger Ch. 03

Chapter Three: A New Power Structure

I scythe through campus like a knife through butter, leaving a trail of enthralled victims in my way.

This isn't my style. I may not have been entirely honest with myself about the morality of mind control powers, I see it now... but I can say, hand on my heart, that I've never done anything like this. I've always selected my targets with deliberate care, and changed them in ways that I judged to be not just for my benefit, but for that of people around us... and sometimes, the victims themselves.

Now, though, I've been going on a veritable mind-controlling spree, and unorthodox as it is, it's with good reason. I have a plan to carry out, and it feels good to have direction again. The frenzied activity, all this energy coursing through me, they make the humiliation of my first man-fucking smart less than it did at first.

I feel a renewed sense of clarity and purpose. I have a plan, and the ability to execute it. I feel in control again, moving forward, determined and unstoppable. The humiliation is lessened.

Lessened, but not forgotten, I think to myself through gritted teeth. There will be hell to pay for it. I can't quite touch Kevin, not yet, but I've settled out on the plan that will become his undoing. He has left a few precious little loopholes that I fully intend to exploit.

This is one of them.

"Yes..." the middle-aged woman says, swooning in her chair, unable to take her eyes away from mine, which are aflame with the awesome might of my powers. She's miss Garland, an admin worker for the university, a self-assured, experienced woman who's comfortable with bureaucracy, and with the haplessness of many students.

But not now. Now, she's as harmless as a kitten, firmly under my thumb. I suppress a soft sigh, my thighs rubbing discreetly together as I do my best to suppress my arousal. My sweaty hands grip the armsrests of the chair -- damn it. Kevin's most recent command, the constant low-level horniness, is really messing with me.

For a second, I almost consider giving in to the temptation. I could grab the woman's head, pull it between my thighs, and show her who's the real boss here. She may be twenty years my senior, but there's no arguing where we each stand on the social ladder: I could break her within minutes if I wanted to.

I could make her my sapphic thrall, my little lezzie slut. Drive home the humiliation of being brought to heel by a much younger girl, a student to boot, with my sole digging deeper and deeper into her neck...

But no, I force myself back into composure. That's not what I'm here for. All the people I've been hypnotising for the past 24 hours have nothing to do with sex... or with the usual, correctional purposes behind my interventions.

Not this time.

"Here are my instructions for you," I tell her, in the strictest voice I can muster. "You will get in touch with a particular student, lamenting a certain bureaucratic issue with his enrolment...."

The admin worker absorbs my plan passively, like a sponge. I detail the full extent of my instructions, leaving nothing to chance. She is to call Kevin as often as she can get away with, making up bureaucratic issues that in fact do not exist.

She's only a part of a much larger puzzle. Kevin is about to find himself sought-after by half the university, with more or less apparently legitimate reasons. He's going to be a very busy boy.

My instructions relayed, I add my failsafe to seal this most recent entry in my recent serial recruitment. "You will protect me," I say, feeling for all the world like a queen talking to a leal knight... or perhaps, an abject servant. "If you see Kevin try to put me in front of a reflective surface, or mention anything about hypnosis to me, you will do everything in your power to interfere. Tackle him to the ground, start the fire alarm, I don't care -- so long as you stop him."

The last instruction has my fingers twitching. I bite my lip, straining against the conditioning. I realise this comes dangerously close to violating Kevin's rules for me. Yes, I have to recognise his authority (grr!), and I have to hypnotise myself at his command... but he said nothing about getting other people involved.

It's a tiny, marginal loophole, but for the time being, it's enough. It will have to be. What I need more than anything else is time. If Kevin just gets the opportunity to pile more and more commands onto my psyche, I'll never break out. But the longer I can stall him, the longer I can work on the other loophole he's conveniently left open...

My job done, I head back to my wing of the dorm, my head swirling with thoughts, plans, lists. My phone vibrates on the way, and I find myself confronted with a text message from Kevin, which makes me smile ear to ear.

Just as I planned -- he's cancelling for tonight, reminding me to be a good girl in the meantime, of course. He doesn't specify the reason behind it, but I of course already know -- I'm behind it. I chose a random girl in class, Julia, as bait -- she's invited him over to "help her study", while hinting that she's going to be willing to... remunerate him.

God, I'll have to find a way to apologise to her when this is all said and done. Even so, it's yet one more obstacle between Kevin and our next session.

He will, of course, be invited to the football game by the most popular jocks in class tomorrow. Then there's the administration. His former friend Tyler will inexplicably want to reconnect, driving all the way here and offering to pay for dinner in exchange for catching up. And there's more, so much more.

I'm nearly squealing with glee by the time I pass the threshold into my room. My phone tucked away, I ready myself for the next stage of my plan -- the hows and whens of it already running across my mind as I try to come up with as compressed a programme as possible.

But the Squad snaps me out of my reverie.

"Welcome home, your Majesty," Sarah says, curtsying to perfection, like I personally programmed her to. The curtsy slowly morphs into a full prostration before me, my former arch-bully getting down on hands and knees. Her station, I know, ready to act as a footstool, should I wish to sit in my armchair.

Behind her is Emily, simpering and bowing in her maid uniform, duster in hand. "May I fix you a drink, your Majesty?" She asks me, in a breathless pout.

And that's when Juliet approaches me from the opposite side, swaying seductively towards me, pressing her body against mine. My personal sex pet, my pleasure partner, my lesbian gratification machine, available on command...

"Please, your Majesty," she whispers, nibbling gently at my earlobe. "Let me... it's been so long..."

I gulp, and I find myself balking. The girls sound pathetically eager, and no wonder, I haven't... partaken in our activities ever since Kevin first put me in his thrall. In my absence, my three former bullies have been left to their own devices.

I've given them normal, healthy lives, so it's not like they idle around, waiting for instructions. They study diligently, have friends, hobbies. But their need for me is pulsing and addictive, and every sigh and movement they make seems designed to trigger my hunger, my queenly desires.

Once again, I find myself cursing Kevin for saddling me with the constant buzz of arousal. It's like a background droning sound you can never fully ignore, the enemy of clear thinking. Few things on earth have the ability to make you do stupid things, the way horniness does. I've been holding out so long... would a little relief be really so bad?

I find my resolve vacillating. I could so jump them right now. Press Juliet into the wall, dominate her tongue with mine, while Emily kneels between my legs to nestle her head in between my thighs. And Sarah... on all fours, lapping at my boots like an eager dog, desperate to serve...

But no. Kevin may be distracted, but that's for a reason. This is time I need to work on freeing myself. Once I'm in control again, then I get to spend as much time with my playthings as I want.

"Maybe later, girls," I say, reluctantly disentangling myself from the sapphic concentration of limbs and quivering lips. Their pouts of disappointment last only for a moment -- they have their duties, their personal spaces, and if they really get too horny to think... they also have each other.

Me, though, I have something else I desperately need right now: a mirror.

I smile devilishly to myself at the simplicity of the loophole. Kevin said I have to hypnotise myself, no questions asked, no objections allowed, whenever he commands it. All well and good... but he never said I can't hypnotise myself whenever I wish. Or how I go about it.

And so, it's time to find out just how much wiggle room I have.

I stare at the reflection in the mirror, and I see a stressed girl, battered and off-balance... but also fierce, proud, determined. A strong girl, with a good plan. A tiger that will forever refuse the leash, until it's back in charge, where she deserves to be.

My eyes catch fire as I push my power into the mirror, and into my own mind. Once again, the mighty immensity of the ocean washes above and around me, engulfing me in its presence. I offer no resistance -- in fact, I welcome it with open arms.

In my current state of undersexed overstimulation, the snap feels incredible. As breath exits my lips in a soft woosh, I tell myself that if this is what being a submissive feels like, in another life I might well have made for an excellent lezzie pet...

"I am open and ready to receive instructions," I say, though there is no-one here to listen. Not this time.

In my docile and passive state, I briefly take note of Sarah poking her head through the bathroom door, staring at me with a puzzled look. I pay her no mind, and eventually she retreats, returning to her homemaking duties.

My focus is fully on my reflection in the mirror. Alright, Kevin. Let's find out just how tight your temporary control over me is.

Game on.

***

"Come on in," I say, my voice coming out deferential and unassuming when I wanted it laced with poison. Unfortunately, my self-hypnotised mind is forced to act deferentially towards Kevin, as he steps into my domain.

He takes a brief glance at the room, immediately distracted by the three other girls currently occupying it. He's wearing his sunglasses, as usual, but I know he's openly ogling them, which makes my skin crawl. Just seeing a man in this safe space of sapphic queendom is a taint and a violation. Having him check out my squad like merchandise is just... intolerable.

I also dislike seeing him so cocky and self-assured. Apparently, fucking me must have given the same confidence that it's taken away from me. Already he looks less like the hapless boy I knew, and more like a real threat to my long-term independence as a woman. I have to remind myself to never underestimate him again: once was enough for a lifetime.

I get a worrying, gnawing suspicion -- that he wants to humiliate me before the girls, fatally undermine my authority over them. Unfortunately, my self-hypnosis is at too early a stage... I need to keep buying time. And then, there will be payment for all he's doing. With interests.

Sarah, Emily and Juliet fidget, unsure what to do. Thanks to my programming, they have a healthy distrust of people like Kevin, whom they already know for a misogynist and a chauvinist. Hell, they flagged his filthy blog to me in the first place, after all.

But they've seen me welcome him into my own home. They clearly don't know what's going on. Sarah, being the most broken and subdued of all, just keeps her mouth shut, while Emily seems to be trying to hide behind the fridge, pretending to be busy with something.

Juliet, though, is as confident as ever.

"Your Majesty," she asks me, never keeping her eyes off Kevin for a moment. "What's going on?"

I'm about to answer her, when Kevin cuts me off.

"So this must be your harem," he says, fidgeting in place, and probably struggling to keep his hands to himself. I bet the blood flow is already reversing downward towards his cock, and away from his brain, filthy creature that he is.

I don't answer, just glowering at him -- which is all the disrespect I can muster, in spite of the resistance of my programming.

Kevin seems to shake himself out of his reverie, nodding to himself. "It's nothing," he says. "No need to worry, girls. Serena and I have something to discuss privately... in the bathroom."

I scowl at him as he grabs me by the arm, but let myself be docilely led to the bathroom, and to the mirror within, like a lamb to the slaughter.

It's funny. This mirror represents my opportunity to save myself, through self hypnosis, but also my downfall whenever Kevin has me program myself for him. It feels like the irony encapsulates the duality of my power: a sword without a hilt, great power that can't be handed safely by anyone.

"Go on," Kevin says. "You know the routine."

I certainly do, which is ridiculous, in a way. How did self-hypnosis become a common occurrence for me? I shake my head. Unfortunately, this particular command cannot be evaded for the time being. So I breathe in, and stare into the mirror, until I see the otherworldly flame begin to dance in my eyes.

As always, Kevin turns back, actually leaning out the doorway. I think he exchanges a few words with the squad, which should worry me -- but I can't catch what he's saying, and I'm otherwise preoccupied at the moment. The weight of an entire ocean slamming against your perception tends to have that effect.

For a moment, all my senses are drowned by the immense roar of the surging waves. Once again, I offer no futile resistance, lowering my neck to the yoke, relaxing in a feminine sigh as the power constricts me like a muscular snake.

Docile and mellow, I stare glassily at my reflection in the mirror, a sabotaged girl, malfunctioning and stuttering, reduced to complacency by a powerless and decidedly unthreatening member of the male gender.

God, the humiliation smarts so fucking much.

"I am open and ready to receive instructions," I say in a flat voice, and again Kevin turns around immediately to face me. I file that away for later. When I've won more leeway through self hypnosis, this may very well be an error I can exploit to pounce on him.

"I have instructions for you, Serena," Kevin says, sticking word for word to the playbook he's used so far. Conservative, cautious, but smart. He knows he's walking a very tight rope, and that the tiniest misstep could mean his destruction.

I stare at him blankly, waiting for him to play his move, make my job even harder, but he doesn't. Instead, he wiggles his finger, gesturing for me to follow him back into the room, which I do near-robotically.

We find ourselves before the squad once again, their confused looks and unintelligible whispers making my cheeks redden with shame. Kevin snaps his fingers, and I hate it... I hate that he does it, and that I naturally react to that.

"Serena, hand over your harem to me."

My shock hits me with such force that I almost snap out of the trance. For a second, it's like the world holds its breath, much like me.

What?

"You heard me," he says, clearly gloating now. "You haven't been doing a very good job of taking care of these girls. I feel it's time that you handed over leadership to someone more qualified... say, to a man..."

The horrified gasps that come from my three girls pale in comparison to the dismay I feel internally. Why aren't they saying anything? Why aren't they rescuing me?

God, I was so stupid. I programmed every stranger I could get my hands on in campus to intervene on my behalf against Kevin, and not the people that were closest to me; the ones that were already under my control. How could I overlook them? How could I be so idiotic?

I muster all my strength, all my fierce pride, but it's not enough. The words leave my lips, unbidden, and to my undying shame.

"Sarah, Emily, Juliet," I say, biting my lower lip, trying to stop my hands from shaking. "I am... no longer... your queen. Listen to Kevin. He is... your... Master now."

"Master," Sarah says dreamily, which makes me want to slap her. But it's my fault, I was the one who made her so meek and submissive. My control over her is purely hypnotic, supernatural. If I tell her to transfer that worship onto Kevin, then of course the effect is instantaneous, unstoppable, and total.

Emily just teeters in place, perpetually unsure, while Juliet looks at me with hurt and betrayal in her eyes.

I almost regret leaving her so much independence. I can see the unspoken accusation in her eyes, challenging me. Why are you throwing us away to a man like we're merchandise? Why can't you fight this?

"One more thing," Kevin says. "Tell them everything I told them earlier is true."

I cock my head, staring at Kevin in confusion. "While I was in the bathroom? I didn't hear what you said, I --"

"Shut up," Kevin says, his voice a little too shrill to sound truly authoritative, but still enough to force me into compliance. "Do as I say. Tell them."

I stare at him in bewilderment, throwing my arms wide, but eventually the compulsion to obey proves too strong for me to fight. "Girls, whatever he's told you is true," I say, and my confusion morphs into worry, then fear at the look that passes across all their faces.

I've controlled too many people not to recognise that look. My girls have just changed, accepting a new truth about the world. But which one? What has Kevin told them?

He snaps his fingers again, and again I spin around to face him, gritting my teeth in rage at the fact that I look and behave like a trained dog. Even under his sunglasses, it's clear Kevin is ogling me, and is clearly satisfied with himself. He holds up his fingers again, as if ready for another snap...

But then, his index finger points downward.

"Heel, girl," he says, to which my nails dig deep into my palms. "Let's seal this transaction the proper way. Let's show the girls how far I've demoted you."

I hate him for doing this. I hate the three pairs of female eyes, watching on as I slowly, obediently descend to my knees before this man. I never kneel, not for anyone. Doing so before this incel, while my own lesbian slaves look down at my subjugation... it reaches to a deep place inside of me, a place I didn't even know existed.

And it rends it. It tears it out with terrible claws, piercing and mauling. I don't feel whole anymore. Whatever else I do after this, I'm going to need some healing, because this... this kind of personal defeat isn't the sort of thing you brush off through the usual means. Not even through supernatural mind control powers.

Even the scrawny little kid looks huge from this humble perspective, and that makes me shrink even further below, wishing for the ground to just open up and swallow me. But no such luck. With my own kneeling reflection staring back at me through his sunglasses, I suppress a shiver of disgust at the sound of his zipper being pulled down.

His cock has fucked me already, of course, but somehow this feels different. He holds it precisely at eye level as he begins to stroke it, and I'm forced to stare at it. This deeply unattractive, yet masterful little thing that I'm supposed to service.

My treasonous, hypno-implanted arousal hums. Kevin told me I'm not supposed to enjoy male sexual aggression, but I am supposed to comply with it. And so I stare at him through wide, terrified eyes, waiting for him to make a move.

"Kiss it," he says, and I do, leaning forward and placing my lips on the tip. Demurely, respectfully. It makes me cringe inside. Just like I can't get unfucked, I can't unkiss his cock. This is now something I've just done. Debasing myself in submission to a man and his throbbing erection.