Bimbo Builder Academy Ch. 07

My feet hit the floor and my head swung from side to side, desperately searching for a solution in the faces of the two gorgeous blondes. There was nothing. They were looking to me, and I knew that I was the one who would have to solve this equation. This problem. This absolute clusterfuck.

"Shit!" I hissed. Harrison's voice rang in my ears. You're mine! Tonight!

The spinning, 3-dimensional, Rubik's Cube of a puzzle that had been tearing my mind apart for weeks had just slotted into place. At least... Some of it had. Like I'd solved three sides of the Cube and just needed a couple more twists to get the other three all lined up.

But there wasn't any time for that. Right now, there was a drunk, horny, powerful man banging on Lena's front door. And I needed to be gone by the time he arrived in this bedroom.

Bang!

"I know you're in there!"

My heart pumped and cleared the drowsiness straight out of my mind. I sucked in a lungful of air and grabbed Natalie's dress, crumpled on the floor next to my dress shirt and slacks. My mind was clear, rational. I hadn't been hit with my trigger phrase in a while and my analytical reason was starting to return. With it, a growing horror as I realized what I'd done.

Julia... I thought, my heart trying to rip itself in half. But I shook my head, breathing hard.

Not now.

I reached up and felt the round rims of the LucidSpecs that still sat across the bridge of my nose. Despite our athletic, phenomenal sex, they'd stayed in place. I knew what I needed to do.

I shoved Natalie's dress into her hands. "Balcony," I ordered sharply. "Go. Quietly."

Her blue eyes were wide and uncertain, but she nodded. "Yes, Professor." She stumbled through the dark as I turned to Lena.

The girl's face was shocked and frightened in the semidarkness, like she was in the middle of a nightmare she couldn't escape. I knew how she felt. Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted and trembling. Strangely, I felt the urge to lean down and kiss them. To reassure her with affection. To tell her that I would be here, I would protect her.

As all the variables slotted together in my mind, I was starting to realize that my least favorite student had been acting that way for a reason. And now... Well, I had no idea who she really was, underneath. But I didn't have time to find out. I stepped closer, gripping the girl by her slim shoulders and staring into her eyes.

I recognized the glazed pupils, slackening features that meant the LucidSpecs were doing their work.

"Lena," I muttered, my voice hard. This was the only thing I could think to do. And I hated to do it. But it was necessary. I needed to stay safe. I needed to stay secret. This was the only way. "You're mine." The words were brief and cut off as I said them, but I could tell they were punching right into the depths of Lena's mind.

The elegant blonde swayed, like her mind was reeling, but my hands kept their grip and held her upright.

I gritted my teeth as another angry blow struck the door to her apartment.

Bang! "Don't make me go back up and get the principal!"

I forced myself to ignore Harrison St. John. I had to hope that there was no one else around to hear his drunken bellowing. "Make whatever excuses you need," I ordered, fingers squeezing hard. "Do whatever he wants. But you're mine. You will not betray me or Natalie. You will not mention me or Natalie. You will distract your father however you need. But you will give me and Natalie the chance to slip away unnoticed."

You're mine.

I had no idea what I was doing to her, mentally. What hypnotic conditioning she'd been through, what forces might be at play or what psychological barriers and support structures I was smashing through. I couldn't worry about any of that. If I was going to figure out what was going on at the Brighton Barnsworth Academy, I needed to continue to be seen as the bumbling puppet, the thoughtless, unsuspecting professor who didn't notice anything going on around him.

"Do you understand?" My expression was tight, fierce, desperate.

The younger woman nodded slowly, her green eyes hazy. "Yes, Master..."

I did kiss her then, my chest surging with a sudden, unexpected affection. A protective kiss, almost, to give her courage. "Good," I muttered. "Go now."

I gave her a little push toward the door to her bedroom and watched for only a second as she hesitated, nervously pressed the front of her black, sequined dress down her elegant figure and then took a single, deep breath. Her voice, when it rang through the quiet apartment, was in her usual haughty, self-assured, condescending tone. "Jesus, Harrison. Can't you be quiet? There are people a few buildings over you haven't woken up yet."

She walked into the front room and I bent, hastily snatching up my slacks, belt, boxers and dress shirt. I clutched them to my chest and dashed for the balcony. Natalie's silhouette was obvious through the open, sliding glass door, waiting for me. Her curvy shadow cast a dark outline across the melding pool of pale moonlight and ambient cityglow.

"Shut the door," I hissed, stepping past her on the narrow balcony and stepping away from the glass panel. The balcony ran the length of Lena's apartment, one door opening onto it from her bedroom and the other from the main room. Massive sliding glass doors doubled as windows in each area, but between them was a section of wall several feet wide.

The only place for me and Natalie to hide.

As the door slid closed behind me and I ghosted across the balcony I realized I'd made two mistakes. The night breeze was cold on my bare skin, but the goosebumps I felt weren't because of the chill. I stared at the bundle of clothes twisted in a knot between my fingers.

I'd called Harrison Lena's father.

And I'd left my suit jacket inside.

* * *

"Took you long enough!" Harrison St. John's voice was just a little bit quieter now, but still at drunken volumes. His voice carried easily across Lena's apartment and through the glass door out onto the balcony.

A rectangle of yellow light from the outside corridor spilled through Lena's open front door and across the living room, tinting the glass door to our right. Natalie pressed herself to the wall beside me, her heavy breasts rising and falling swiftly as she tried to settle the torrent of worry that doubtless whirled through her lithe young body.

I knew how she felt.

"Oh pshaw!" Lena shot back. I could practically imagine her leaning her shoulder casually against the doorframe. "You've just had too much to drink. I came as soon as I heard your drunken bellowing. You giant buffoon. Can't you just—?"

But whatever she'd been about to say was cut off, and I heard the grunting, moaning sound of an uncomfortably desperate kiss.

I clenched my fists and pressed my back against the wall, fighting the conflicted emotions that raged in my body. There was the twisting nausea and discomfort that roiled at the taboo situation. Even though I knew now that Harrison couldn't possibly be Lena's father, my mind still hadn't fully integrated the fact. There was also a strange, protective feeling that churned, hot and angry, in my chest. You're mine, I'd told the slender, elegant blonde. And a Cro-Magnon instinct to protect my woman rose up on a tide of primal, cave man passion.

I heard the high-pitched cry of surprise and the gasp as Lena escaped. The sound of the door swinging shut with a thud as the two moved deeper into the room. I didn't look, couldn't let myself risk being seen to peer around the corner, but I could imagine the girl stumbling away and the short, chubby man stolidly pursuing.

"Harrison!" Lena's voice was shriller, outraged. The high-society tone of contempt and anger perfectly fit the character she always portrayed. "What the f—?"

"Slut in the sheets." Harrison's voice was hungry, panting, loud enough to cut off the younger woman.

There was a moment of silence. I abruptly remembered that the phrase was part of the mantra. The one I'd accidentally set off when I'd asked Lena to remember her past. Is that her trigger phrase? I wondered. Or... one of several?

"Mmm... Hello, Daddy..." Lena's voice was different now. Breathier. Only barely making it through the glass barrier and into my ears.

"That's a good girl..." I could imagine the man's round, piggy face, flushed with drink and arousal. One of my fists thumped quietly back against the wall. A prickle of discomfort creeped up my spine as I realized that I'd used almost the exact same words with the girl, not too long ago.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch, Daddy..." Lena's apologies. All part of the character she was playing.

The character she's been trained to play, I realized. Conditioned to play. Just like I'd been conditioned to play the laid back, relaxed, oblivious academic.

I scowled as I looked sideways at Natalie. And just like the gorgeous, busty blonde had been turned into the perfect fantasy schoolgirl.

The girl beside me was wide eyed, and I could tell that she was also straining to hear what was going on in the room beyond. Her lips were parted as she gasped short, fast breaths. It dragged my attention down to her chest, to her round, gorgeous tits. Her nipples were hard with the cold, and I realized that the temperature had dropped significantly as night set in.

Up on the patio where the party had begun — wherever that actually was — the heater lamps had kept the cold at bay. Now, we were high up and the cool air and fluttering wind leached the warmth from our bodies. I wished, in a surge of chivalry, that I had my jacket to warp around her shoulders.

"Fuck..." My curse was a whisper, but no less venomous. I'd stripped my jacket and dropped it to the floor in the living room as I'd followed my two students to bed.

"On your knees, slut." The words were so out of character for the short, jovial man that I actually frowned in confusion.

"Gawd, Daddy..." Lena's voice was dripping enthusiasm, like the coarse words were the ultimate turn on. "Please... Just let me take you to bed... Make up for everything I've done..."

"Hmm." I heard Harrison's grunt of consideration. He seemed uncertain, his drunken brain trying to calculate all the possibilities. A moment of quiet.

I wondered what was going on in Lena's head. Had Harrison's trigger actually stolen her will? Was she just mindlessly following her conditioning? Or had my LucidSpecs commands snapped her free of the hypnotic compulsion? Was she trying to get her false father into the bedroom so that we would have a chance to escape through the front?

Which was worse? If she was under my control, instead of Harrison's, was she intentionally seducing the man who wanted to own her?

The man seemed to come to a decision. "But I want— uhh..." His moan was loud and lewd. "Oh fuck Lena..."

I clenched my jaw, wondering what she was doing. Then, trying not to wonder.

"Come on, Daddy..." Lena's seductive murmur. "Let's— mmph."

Another uncomfortably loud kiss, and the sound of two stumbling bodies. Something thudded off a wall, and I hoped it was Harrison's stupid, drunk head.

Evidently not, because the man's panting voice sounded a second later. "I'm not waiting for the bedroom, you hot little bitch. You've been teasing me every damn day. For months. Now it's time you got what you deserved."

"What do I deserve, Daddy...?" Lena's voice was dripping with hot, wanton excitement.

The clinking of a belt buckle. "How about you put that sassy mouth to better use, for starters."

"Oh! Is all of that for me?"

Harrison grunted in surprise and pleasure as his false daughter did... something.

Beside me, Natalie closed her eyes and buried her face in my shoulder. My hand instinctively cradled her head, pulling her cold body close.

I split my mind in two, one half listening to the interaction on the other side of the door and the other looking for holes in the insane theory that tried to piece together all the evidence I'd slowly accumulated since coming to the Brighton Barnsworth Academy.

Fuck what the principal says... Harrison had yelled. I'm not waiting any longer.

There went my notion that my employer was innocent in this whole, twisted affair.

I wondered if that had been part of my conditioning, to never suspect Joseph Clayton of wrongdoing. It makes sense, I thought, clenching my jaw. All of my justifications, trying to pin the blame for the strange events somewhere else... When there was really no other logical explanation.

I really have to hand it to Joseph, Harrison had told me earlier at the bar. He can take any young lady and turn her out just so...

Principal Clayton was the master of the Academy. He was the king, and what happened in his kingdom was his doing. My mathematician's mind went into overdrive, snatching other factors from my memory, slipping them into the proof I was building. One step at a time. Proceeding to the inevitable conclusion.

Aarav Khatri, the Indian businessman's hand sliding smoothly around Ava's waist. Adopted... he had told me with that bright, innocent smile. Such a beautiful, happy flower in my garden...

I almost shuddered as I realized how twisted that comment truly was.

Must obey... Just obey... Forget... Forget... The voices of Lena and Natalie in my mind, playing in sync like two like tape recordings. I live to obey... I live to serve... I live to pleasure...

So... My employer was taking beautiful, unattached young women and turning them into what...? Gorgeous, psychologically-conditioned love slaves? There had been no women upstairs at the so-called "Investor's Ball." No wives. No mothers of the students. Because... Because... My mind wanted to take the final step. But it seemed so impossible.

I forced myself.

Because there are none. The Brighton Barnsworth Academy is building them... Made to order...

Another thought followed, stabbing a cold dagger of dread through my chest more effectively than any chill night breeze.

Fuck... And Julia. My beautiful, fantastic girlfriend. She was up there, right now, surrounded by dozens of men who were paying my boss to engineer their ideal partner.

Harrison's grunt of surprise was higher pitched than his groans of pleasure. I had been doing my best to filter them out, but the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room drew my focus. I strained my ears, picking up the dangerous curiosity in his slurred words.

"Lena..." Harrison St. John asked. "Whose jacket is this?"

Oh crap.

* * *

Here it was. The real test. Had my moment of intense command overcome her deep-set post-hypnotic conditioning?

"Mmm, Daddy," Lena's voice dripped teasing, flirtatious sensuality. "I'm such a naughty little slut..."

My breath was caught halfway between my lungs and my mouth, trapped in my throat. Choking me. She's going to tell him...

"It's mine."

My sigh of relief was hushed as I clamped my mouth shut.

"What...?" Luckily, her father was too inebriated to be suspicious.

I heard a rustle of cloth, like Lena was throwing the jacket around her slim shoulders.

"Sometimes..." the sound of a soft kiss and the animal groan of the recipient. "I like to dress up. Play professor. All stuck up. In charge. Telling my students what to do." More kisses. More groans. "What do you think, Daddy...? Do you want to play professor with me?"

"Ohfuckme... Yesss..." Harrison's half-mumbled agreement was desperate.

"Come on... Follow me..."

* * *

Natalie and I fled down the hallway.

We left Lena behind, and I felt a painful, twisting knife of guilt in my gut. But I couldn't do anything about it. She might not deserve what she's getting... I thought. But the only way for me to help her is to get to the bottom of this.

We had slipped out her door as quiet as ghosts, creeping across the living room while the sounds of a creaking mattress leaked under the door to the bedroom. My jacket was no longer there. Just another problem to add to the growing list. My pupil and I had paused momentarily in the doorway to throw on our clothes, then the busty young blonde led me through the expensive, hotel-style halls.

The LucidSpecs had gone in my pants pocket as soon as we were out in the corridor, but I'm not sure it mattered. We met no one, and Natalie was deferring to me out of habit at this point, the older figure of authority who was supposed to have some measure of experience and control in stressful situations.

Yeah right. I had almost no control. And definitely no experience.

We climbed the stairs, and I realized that I had no real memory of where exactly we were. The girls had been using my trigger phrase so often I'd pretty much blacked out. But we finally paused on a landing, the low orange light of a lamp giving the concrete staircase a dingy, back-alley feeling.

"Natalie," I said as the girl started to push the door open. I held out a hand but couldn't bring myself to touch her arm.

"Yes?" Her voice was soft, subdued, definitely not her usual peppy tone.

I wasn't surprised. "I need you to tell me something."

"What is it, Professor?" She didn't seem to want to look at me.

I hesitated. There were so many things I didn't know, so many questions still bouncing around my skull. But not many were ones that Natalie could answer. "I need to know about your other professors. One in particular. Your... astronomy teacher? The one who wears glasses like mine. The one whose videos you're always watching."

I need to find him... I need to get him to talk...

Natalie did look at me now, her eyebrows coming together in consternation. "But Professor Sands," she said, and the trigger phrase hit me suddenly, sending a cool wave of honeyed relaxation down my back.

I should have been floored, should have been sucker punched by what she said next. But all I managed was a slight frown of concern, and a strange sensation in my gut. What was it...?

"It's all video lectures. Aside from you, none of us have had a real teacher in months."

Ah yes. Inevitability. That was the feeling. Like I'd known all along. And finally everything was converging.

* * *

I didn't know where I was going to find Julia. But it turned out I didn't have to. She found me.

The crowd was thinner than before, when Natalie and I re-entered the patio. Glancing around, I saw knots of men by the bar, complete with "daughters" in black dresses. Other groups loitered by the glowing fires on comfortable outdoor sofas. The final smattering of guests was drawn out along the balcony, looking out over the glowing cityscape.

"Mitch!" I heard her voice call to me through the thinning crowd. I turned instinctively, brain still numb and overwhelmed. My beautiful, dark-haired partner stood at the railing, drink in hand. Next to her... I would have frozen with surprise and fear if I had the emotional capacity. Next to her was the tall, silhouetted figure of the man at the center of it all. Joseph Clayton, Principal of the Brighton Barnsworth Academy. And, as far as I was concerned, hidden menace.

I raised my hand and meandered their way, realizing too late that Natalie had followed. She stuck behind my shoulder, like a shadow.

"Hey, darling." Julia had had a few drinks. I could tell by her easy smile and loose posture. I knew her well enough to know she wasn't drunk, yet, but definitely deep into tipsy. She leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek.