Bimbo Builder Academy Ch. 13

"Julia?" I pushed open the door to the bathroom. It opened smoothly and the warm glow of light hit my face, bouncing off the cool, marble tiles.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but what I saw stopped me midstride.

The response I got was a purr from the dark-haired woman laying in the middle of the space. "Hello, Master..." My girlfriend was on her back, wrists and feet bound together with towels. It looked like Raven had tied her and left her there before arriving in the living room to save the day.

"Jules..." I felt a lurch in my chest and stomach. Guilt. Uncertainty. This was my girlfriend, the woman I loved, entranced by a sex-trafficking businessman and used as a playing piece, a pawn... A toy. My girlfriend, the sextoy...

Don't you mean ex-girlfriend? part of me thought, staring at her. But I didn't even know what to say to her, let alone how to describe our relationship. Does a breakup count if it's done under duress? How do extenuating circumstances factor in?

The lithe brunette wriggled seductively, and my eyes were drawn to the tight curves of her body. Her nipples were hard, I could already tell, and the glistening between her thighs indicated that she was beyond horny. "Mistress Raven said that if I stayed put, Master would come and reward me..." Julia grinned. Her eyes were bright but glazed, like she was aware of me only as a vivid dream. "Are you here to reward me, Sir...?"

I swallowed. "Jules..." I said again. For maybe the first time, I wasn't turned on by being called Master. I didn't want to be that guy. I wanted to be the guy who I really was — the one who had messed up with the woman he loved and was finally trying to make it right. It was time to be him.

The brunette bit her lip, a small turn of confusion at the corner of her mouth, a little furrow between her brows. "Is something wrong, Master?" she asked quietly, slowly.

"Please come back." I said it simply. "I need to talk to you about what happened."

I don't know what it was that broke the trance. We could pretend it was true love, or something silly, right out of a fairy tale. More likely, because Clayton had only had a short amount of time with Julia, the conditioning couldn't hold up under true emotional stress. Or, maybe, Julia had been fighting and fighting internally against his commands, and finally broke through. All I know is that at my words Julia blinked several times, like she was coming awake from a dream. She looked down at herself. Then, her eyes widened with fear as she realized she was bound. Her head snapped up, and I hated to see the uncertainty in her gaze.

"Mitch, please..." she begged. "What's going on?"

* * *

She was seated on the bed, wrapped in a bathrobe. It had been the closest thing on hand, and I didn't want to wait for her to struggle back into those yoga pants. We needed to talk, and as soon as I'd put my unresisting girlfriend on the bed I stuck my head out the door into the living room.

Lena immediately headed toward me, a concerned look on her face.

But I didn't let her say anything. "Watch Clayton," I ordered, my expression brooking no argument. I glanced to Harrison, then Raven, to include them in the instruction. "If he wakes up, make sure he can't speak and doesn't say anything. I'll be out in a bit." Then, I closed the door.

I know I should have been more careful, but Julia was on my mind. Nothing was more important, in that moment.

"Mitch..."

Her voice was numb, quiet. She was leaning back against the pillows in her fluffy white robe, knees curled up to her chest. Her eyes were wide and wet, and I could tell she was on the verge of crying with frustration and stress. "Please help me... I don't understand what's happening."

I moved quickly, kneeling beside her on the mattress. I would have reached out and taken her hand, but it was firmly grasping her opposite wrist and pulling her legs tighter to her body. I tried not to take that as a silent rejection. As it was, I contented myself with patting her arm gently and nodding. "I will. I promise. I'll tell you everything..."

So I did.

I told Julia about the first day, when I'd been seduced by Natalie. I told her about slowly uncovering the Academy's secrets, and being drawn tighter and tighter into their web. I didn't hold anything back, didn't try to hide what I'd done with Lena and with Natalie, but I also explained the post-hypnotic suggestions that lowered my inhibitions and left me defenseless against temptation. I told her everything I knew, and everything I suspected. I told her, finally, about this weekend, about the party and Lena's arrival, our escape to the hotel and our con to take down Harrison St. John.

I wasn't surprised at my revelations until I was almost done, because I had totally forgotten that I should have been unable to confide in her about any of it. I could only suspect that, as with Lena and Harrison, watching Clayton be brought low had shattered my utter obedience to his posthypnotic suggestions. I'd built him up in my mind as the ultimate authority figure, unquestionable and always in control. Seeing someone get tazed really screws with that all-powerful image.

"I felt so confused and lost, Jules..." I finally told her. I couldn't meet her eyes. "I didn't want to bring any more of this shit into your life, and I knew that what I did was wrong." I clenched my jaw. "I cheated on you. And once again, my work was interfering with our lives. That's why I left the other night with Lena. Because I couldn't handle hiding it from you anymore, and I wasn't able to get it off my chest." My hand kneaded the comforter and I let out a long, slow sigh.

Everything was quiet for a minute.

I was waiting for Julia to get mad, or sad, or something. But, when she spoke, her voice was just tired. Somehow, that was worse.

"I want to be mad at you, Mitch," she muttered. "I want to blame you. It would make it all easier. Simpler. No one should have to go through what I went through today. Or what those girls were going through. But I can't be mad..." Her dark eyes were troubled when I looked up into her face. "It's not your fault. Not really. You just got unlucky as hell. And I get that you couldn't tell me any more than you did. I know that you weren't completely in control of yourself... I mean, I guess I know what that's like. I literally just..." Her breathing sped up for a couple seconds. Then, she regained control. "I just blew your boss. Not a thought in my head. Not an ounce of resistance..."

This was worse than being under Clayton's power. Then, at least, my feelings had been dulled. I'd had no hope, and no worries. Now, though, it felt as if my chest was being twisted around and around like the double loop of an infinity sign.

"After Denton, I stuck by you. Even when everyone else told me that it was a mistake. Because I know you, Mitch. You'd never do what they claimed. You're a good man, deep down under that wacky academic's mask you wear." She laughed softly at that, and I couldn't help but twitch a small, sad smile.

I could feel Julia building up to an inevitable conclusion, and I wanted to protest, or to say that I would protect her better in the future, or something. But there was nothing more to protect her from. Just me, and the things I'd done. Because I knew, now, where she was going with this. Because I knew her, too.

"But that doesn't make it hurt any less. That doesn't mean I like the idea of what you did with those girls, or... what you'll end up doing when you go back to that place."

"I'm not..." I started to protest, but then subsided as she gave me a frank look.

"If you were about to say I'm not planning on going back, then don't. We both know that's a lie. You're going to go back and help those young women. You care about your students. Deeply. That's why you're good at your job. And that's why they love you."

I squirmed a little at this last, but Julia didn't seem to mean anything by it. "And that's what keeps causing all these problems, too, huh?" I tried to chuckle but just kind of snuffed a laugh.

Julia shook her head. "I don't know, Mitch. Maybe?" She seemed drained, suddenly. "You're a huge part of me. And I love you. But," she paused, took a deep breath, and had the courage to look me in the eyes as she said it. "I just think we both need some space. I'm... I'm going to leave the City for a while. There's too much to process here, and too many crazy things that are going to need to be figured out. And I know you'll need to solve it. Because that's your thing. You solve shit..." She trailed off and looked away. Then, she slowly slid her way across the mattress. She reached down for the crumpled pile of her discarded clothes.

"Where will you go?" I asked slowly. I watched, but didn't try and stop her.

The black yoga pants slid up her long, lithe legs. She peaked over her shoulder at me, through a mane of tousled hair, and gave a little teasing smile that turned sad at the end. "We can't be together right now," she said slowly, not answering the question. She turned, hugging the oversized grey tee to her chest. "It won't work. Too many secrets have been kept. Too many lines crossed, intentionally or otherwise."

I had the sudden awkward realization that she wanted me to look away while she got dressed. Or, rather, that she needed me to. Because this was as hard for her as it was for me.

So I did, because I knew it was the only thing I could do for her right now. "Will you let me know that you arrive safely, at least? Wherever you're going?" For the guy who'd already broken up with her, I certainly didn't feel any better about it when she broke up with me back. But I kept my voice steady and calm. I heard a rustle of cloth, and looked up as Julia wiped the back of her hand across one cheek.

She sniffed, but I didn't see any tears. Maybe we were both numb. "Reach out when you think things have changed. If they do." She gave me a look, then, and it was sad but determined. "Can I trust you to wait until then?"

I nodded. Yes, I thought. She could. But I couldn't say anything out loud just at that moment. I could see in her face how much she wanted to believe me. I could see common sense going to war with her feelings and coming out on top. I was a romantic hazard right now. And Julia had already been hurt bad enough in the past.

"I trust you," she said.

"Thank you." My voice was low, rough with emotion.

I caught her as she flung herself across the bed at me, wrapping my arms around her body as she buried her face in my shoulder.

Her hands twisted in my shirt and pulled her closer. I heard her sniff, without looking up, "I miss you already." Her voice was muffled against my chest.

I held her in my arms for a long moment of silence. My feelings were churning around and around, but I knew that I couldn't ask Julia to go through any more for me. "You're right," I told her. My hand stroked gently up her back. "We need to get you away from me for a while."

She glanced up. There was surprise in her dark eyes, and a hint of gratitude in her expression.

I realized she'd probably expected me to fight her on it, even though that would only drive her further away. That was her experience with men. Hell, the last guy she'd broken up with had stalked her for months. But I knew her well enough to know better.

"Damn it," she muttered, half joking. "Why do you have to be so damn cute? And hot and sexy and... arghhh..." She leaned up and kissed me.

It wasn't the kind of searing, lustful kiss I'd been experiencing more and more lately. This one was sweet, grateful, loving and I could feel the damp of her cheek where she'd wiped away several tears. Her lips were gentle on mine, but she pressed them there for a moment that seemed long and too, too short at the same time.

I kissed her back, and didn't ask for anything more than what she gave. I just pressed my hands into her back and held her to me as long as she wanted to be held.

* * *

"Jules?"

She looked back from the door to the suite.

I stood at the end of the short entry hallway. I couldn't walk her all the way to the door. That, somehow, was too final.

Julia had gathered her purse while Lena and Danielle and Harrison had watched silently. Clayton had been tied and gagged even more thoroughly while we were in the bedroom, to the point where I hardly noticed the man laying still and silent on the couch. The others could tell that something had happened. And they knew, in that unspoken way people have, that we wanted them to fade into the background.

I could have said a lot of things in that moment. I could have used her trigger phrase, to make her stay. I could have used my own trigger phrase, to make her going less painful.

But I did neither of those things.

"I love you," I said quietly.

She had said it earlier, and I hadn't gotten the chance to respond. Now, I saw the slightest amount of tension leave her body. Like she'd been tensed up, waiting this whole time for me to explain how I had already moved on with my new lovers.

Julia swallowed. She bobbed her head in a nod. Dark chestnut waves framed her face, and I saw her take a slow breath. She met my gaze one more time. Then, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her. She didn't say goodbye.

Click.

I took a slow, steadying breath. Ah... There was the dullness I'd felt before. Only now, it wasn't from Clayton's trigger words. It was my own mind numbing my emotions. To protect me.

I turned back to face the room.

Lena was watching me with an expression of concern.

Harrison's eyes were also fixed on me, but his face looked open and almost cheerful.

Danielle — or, maybe, Raven — was watching Clayton, who I couldn't see on the far side of the couch.

I squared my shoulders. "Alright, team," I said, and I flexed my hands into fists before releasing the tension. There was only one thing left to do. "Let's deal with the fucking principal."

* * *

Initially, Clayton had clenched his eyes closed and thrashed against us when we tried to force him to watch Lena's online course videos. He grunted through his gag and strained against the rope the others had used to bind him. Luckily, the Regent seemed to use high-quality curtain cords. They held. Eventually, I wrapped him up in a bear hug, pointed him at the screen of Harrison's laptop, and promised to tape his eyelids up with duct tape if he didn't open the goddamn things.

Perhaps realizing the inevitability of his position, Clayton slowly obeyed. The others had all moved behind us, but I could see his eyes darting left and right desperately as I twisted earbuds into his ears, one at a time. He was looking for any way out, any tool. But there was no one left for him to manipulate.

I could tell that the man was trying to keep his eyes out of focus, to not fall into the trap of the swirling constellations on the screen before him. But he couldn't block out the relaxing, subliminal programming that came in through the earbuds. As I gripped him tightly, watching his face instead of the screen, I slowly felt his tensed muscles relax. Wary, I kept hold of him until the first video was complete and the next loaded automatically. By then, though, the man was well and truly enthralled. He sat loosely, his tall frame slouched over the computer.

After that, all we had to do was wait.

* * *

Five Weeks Later...

The sky patio at the Brighton Barnsworth Academy was stunning after dark.

On the night of the Academy party, just over a month ago, it had been overrun with guests, flickering fires, caterers and glowing lights like will-o'-the-wisps strung along the railing. Now, it was just the one fire pit, glowing warmly and illuminating my face. And it was just a few of us, not the throng of that fateful evening.

Lena's head was on my shoulder and Natalie's was resting against my thigh. Ava, the statuesque redhead who had once been promised to Indian businessman Aarav Khatri, stood leaning forward over the railing, silhouetted against the cityglow. She made for a good view, but I think I was the only one taking advantage of it. Natalie was staring thoughtfully into the fire, her knees up over the arm of the couch and her curvaceous body reclined on the cushions. Lena dozed, her eyes shut and her breath slow and steady against my opposite side. I reflected, as I admired Ava's outline, on all that had happened in the past month. All I'd learned.

The women around me were perfect case studies.

After I'd ordered Clayton to shut down the background subliminals that played on loop like mind control muzak, the young women at the Academy slowly began to exhibit their real personalities. Lena, as I spent more time with her, continued to prove that her originally abrasive behavior had been nothing more than a mask. To the contrary, I was shown over and over how thoughtful and caring she could be. The slim blonde had the same elegance as always, but without the frigidity.

Natalie, too, had practically become a different person. To begin with, the bright-eyed, all-American bombshell had been furious to discover that her naturally dark hair had been dyed cheerleader blonde. In protest, in fact, she'd immediately recolored it violet. With lavender highlights. I couldn't lie — it was a hot look. Her cliché schoolgirl outfits were replaced by thick sweaters that draped over her shoulders but still managed to accentuate her round, full breasts and loose jeans that did the same to her perky ass. She even revealed that she'd been using contacts for weeks, and she replaced them with round, clear-framed glasses that were oddly reminiscent of the LucidSpecs I kept on my person at all times. It was like she'd gone from sexy cheerleader to hot hipster coed. The busty beauty's attitude of cheerful, innocent submission had also changed. She had a rebellious spirit, and she displayed a determined energy as she helped me to go through Clayton's files, searching for clues about the students' pasts. I recognized the attitude from the way she'd always focused in the classroom, but now it was obvious she had a deeper drive. I felt like I'd only seen glimpses of these young women before, fragments of who they really were, and now I was watching as they put themselves back together.

Unfortunately, some changes were permanent. None of the young women Clayton brainwashed could remember their pasts. That part of their programming, it seemed, was so deeply embedded that it was unassailable. Our only clues were in Clayton's files, and my self-appointed task had been to help each and every student return home. Originally I had been almost frantic about it. Then, one of the first afternoons, Lena reached over the paper-scattered table to rub my shoulder encouragingly. She'd told me not to worry so much. It wasn't like they especially missed their homes. It's hard to miss something you don't even remember.

Some nights, I wondered if forgetting would help me deal with my own heartache.

In going through the files, we used Clayton as much as we could. He knew his system, recalled more details than he'd put into writing, even. But there was a limit to his usefulness. And, I suppose, that was my fault. When we first got the man under control, I'd had him watch four or five hours of Lena's course materials before we even risked moving him out of the hotel. Then, whenever we didn't need them, I left Harrison and Clayton in a room together and pressed Play. One of the girls stood guard to begin with, but eventually we realized that they didn't have the will to get up and go anywhere when their videos were playing. I gave Harrison some time off, but I didn't trust Clayton. Whenever we didn't need the man he was pretty much just watching the videos on loop.