Conditioned for Desire

Expect light mind control, dubious ethics, and a slightly more romantic tone than most MC stories. Enjoy!

---

"Hey, Julian, do you mind if I leave the rest of the cleaning to you? I have tickets for a concert at nine." The other research assistant asked me that thirty minutes ago, and like an idiot I accepted.

I thought it would take just ten, maybe fifteen minutes more, but after thirty I was about to call it a night. I needed to find one last receiver out of sixty-four. I'd checked probably every surface in the lab, and the last empty slot still stared me in the face.

The last receiver was for Mira Guo. Since the morning I'd been helping run tests for the neuroscience program. They were developing an instrument that could trigger dopamine releases within the brain. It was being tested for use in drug rehab, but that was a long way off. What we'd been doing was sitting people down, attaching a tiny patch with a chip to their neck, and asking them their preference between pairs of colors. With our little controllers and receivers we could consistently make them prefer green colors by the end. (You wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork they had to sign beforehand.)

Anyway, we had to keep track of who'd had each receiver so we could match the readings to the subject. And Mira's was evidently missing. I was starting to think we forgot to take it off. They're hard to see behind hair, they stick very well, and we were really quite rushed.

Mira was an undergrad in one of the classes I TA'd for, so I figured I'd ask her to check the next time I saw her. Or, that was my first thought. Look--I'm not proud of what I actually did, but if you knew Mira you'd understand. She had gorgeous toned legs, long straight hair, and eyes that could see right through you. And I have to admit that, for someone with a small frame, she really had quite a chest and ass. Of course there are lots of hot people in the world, but something about her confidence, her liveliness, and her graceful way of moving wouldn't let her leave my mind.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Suffice to say, if I was in triple-A, she wasn't just out of my league, but probably in the hall of fame with a big plaque. I'm not bad-looking--maybe a little on the short side, but I work out, and I'm a good guy to be around. I wasn't awkward around women or anything, but like many of my fellow grad students, I never seemed to end up in the kinds of situations that lead to hot dates. Maybe that's why the gears in my head started turning. And once they started they didn't stop.

I pocketed the controller and replaced the missing equipment with extras. I can't say who I thought would catch me, but I felt nervous walking out of that lab, like a felon on the run. The walk back to my apartment was dull as ever, but my heart raced all the same.

---

The next class was on Wednesday and she was there. She wore her hair in a bow, which I'm a sucker for, and the peppiness of it stood out against the gray midweek morning. I managed to keep my cool, or at least I think so, but inside I was a mess as I thought about trying the controller.

Here's how it worked: There was a dial from 0 to 100 that controlled the baseline release level of dopamine, and a clicker that gave a brief burst at a higher level. I set the dial to 5. I figured if she being in a room with me activated the pleasure centers of her brain, however slightly, then at least that was a start.

When lecture began I started to feel more grounded. While I was inexperienced in love and sex, I knew neurotransmitters and GABA-2 receptors like the back of my hand. So I nodded as the professor spoke, and I graded a couple papers too when I wasn't sneaking glances at Mira. I couldn't tell if the controller was having any effect--or whether the receiver was even on her in the first place--but every time I thought about turning up the dial I froze.

Finally I resolved to try turning it up at the very end of class. When the students filed out, I stood by the door and idly waved. When I made brief eye contact with Mira I turned the dial clockwise in my pocket, trying not to be conspicuous.

I didn't get more than halfway before turning it all the way back in panic. I expected at most a smile, but instead she double-taked right in front of the doorway. I barely heard her gasp, and pretended I didn't see, but she was clearly shocked for a moment before she left. I hoped it was a pleasant sort of shock, but I would definitely keep it lower from then on.

---

When I went back to the lab on Thursday, I read the actual manual on the controller. In layman's terms, setting it to a 5 is barely perceptible, 15 is subtly pleasant, 25 is noticeable, and anything above 35 the ethics board didn't allow us to test. (Oops.) The clicker added 15 for about a tenth of a second. Knowing this, I walked into the lecture hall Friday feeling a bit more confident.

Mira was just in a hoodie and jeans, but with the way she filled it out it wasn't just a hoodie and jeans. They showed off the contour of her body perfectly, drawing me in--but I had to stay focused. I set the controller to a 7, leaving room to go higher later. And not much later it was time to pass back research papers. When I passed Mira hers I gave a little click. I thought I caught a smile on her face, but it could have been about her grade. I counted it as a win anyway. For the rest of the period I kept the dial in the single digits, and I didn't try anything funny as the students walked out.

The next couple weeks were much the same as this. I'd keep the dial at a 7 or 8 during lecture, or bump it up to a 15 if I was explaining something. If I came near Mira or spoke to her I did a click, but I didn't dare set the dial higher. It was hard to tell if I was actually accomplishing anything, but she seemed more engaged than usual during class--if nothing else, my professor would be happy. And she was early to class more and more often. So I kept at it.

---

I make it sound like lectures were the only thing happening in my life, but obviously I spent most of the day elsewhere. By elsewhere I mean my office.

It gets dull working in that room, whose only window looked into a rarely-used alley. Most of the time it was just me, save for my computer and a pile of papers to grade. The most exciting part of my day, some days, was when my friend Drew visited between classes. He seemed to get excited about even the dullest parts of neuroscience (and there are definitely some dull parts), which helped me keep a positive attitude, I guess. But even he was too busy lately to stop by, except on Fridays. It was Tuesday, and Friday seemed a long way away.

I heard a knock on my door, which meant either that he'd skipped class or that someone had actually come to my office hours. Neither seemed very likely: Drew wasn't the type to skip, and no one came to office hours except for midterms and finals week. Maybe someone was lost looking for the bathroom.

"Just a minute!" I called. I tidied enough so my desk didn't look quite so messy, then I put my 'helpful TA' face on and opened the door.

"Hi," she said.

It was Mira. I think I flinched in surprise, but if she noticed she didn't say anything.

"Hi, Mira," I said. "I'd, ah, been wondering if anyone was going to come. Oh, hold on." I got another chair so she could sit, and I asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, I'm having trouble finding sources for the upcoming paper." I noticed just then that Mira was made up. Well I'm sure she wore makeup most days, but it was more than usual, anyway. Or maybe I just had a better view. Looking into her eyes so close felt like looking into the sun. Shit--had I been staring? I didn't know.

"Remind me again what you were writing it on?" Thankfully I said it without stammering.

"Epinephrine."

Of course. Everyone in the class had to choose a neurotransmitter and summarize the recent research in the field. At least she wasn't one of the dozens of students who chose serotonin.

"You're having trouble finding sources?" I found it odd--tons of papers get published about epinephrine each year. "Have you searched the school library system?"

She smiled, then shook her head, more at herself than at me. "No, I can't believe I didn't think of that."

"You'd be surprised how many students don't realize we have one." She chuckled at that; I didn't mean to be funny, but I'd take it. "If you look up--I think it's Palmer and Zhang--they have a few recent papers that can get you started, and if you look at their citations you'll probably find more."

"Thanks." She looked at the door for a moment, then back at my desk. "Hey, is that from the experiment you were doing a few weeks ago?"

Shit. She was pointing right at the controller that... I guess it was signaling to her receiver at that very moment.

"Um, yeah," I said, "I have to download some of... some of the data from it later. For analysis."

"Cool." I realized with relief that she didn't know how I was using it. "How's that going?" she asked.

"Ah, the work is a bit tedious, but it's an interesting device we're testing." I snuck a glance at the dial. Thankfully only at 5, and not something crazy.

"That's cool." She seemed like she wanted to say something, but then she stood up instead. "Thanks, Julian. I'll make sure to check out those authors you told me about."

"Yeah! Anytime," I said a bit too eagerly as I got the door. She waved as she went, and then it was back to me and my thoughts.

Did she just need help with her paper? Was that really it? I doubted that. Dozens of students needed way more help than she did, and they were hardly busting down my door. Had she still not found the receiver? Was it even still there?

I didn't know, but I knew I wouldn't get any more work done for a while. My thoughts were racing, and I would have bet anything my face was rosy red. For the next half hour I lay back in my chair and looked at the ceiling, mind miles away from my work. Thank goodness, at least, that no one else knocked on my door that day.

---

In the rest of the week's lectures, I got a little more strategic with the controller, while doing my best to remember to actually be a TA. It was hard; we had an unusually hot week of weather, and it wasn't so easy to focus when she arrived in a crop top or shorts. My plan with the controller was simple: any time I made eye contact was a click, any time I rolled up my sleeves was a click, and whenever I was speaking I moved the dial higher, doubly so if it was to Mira.

Then it was Tuesday, and I was a little extra unfocused during office hours. I kept thinking about the last time Mira came in, and trying to rehearse what I'd say if I saw her. I thought embarrassingly long about references that would fit her paper, even though she could surely find them herself. It probably wasn't helping, but I just felt like I needed to be perfect.

The clock hit 3:45, then 4:00, then 4:15, then 4:25. No one was coming, like usual, and when my office hours ended at 4:30 I planned to catch a movie with Drew. I guess that was something to look forward to.

Finally 4:30 hit, and I gave it a couple more minutes. (So what if I missed a few trailers?) I finally gave up and packed my things, when I heard footsteps rushing down the hall.

"Hi... Sorry." It was Mira. She was flushed, and her chest heaved as she panted. "I guess I was too late, huh?"

"Well, um, did you need help with something?"

"Sorry, I don't want to hold you up. I'll just... come back another time."

"Don't worry about it," I said. I didn't want to keep Drew waiting, but you could say I had other concerns. "Well, on Thursdays Vincent holds--er, I guess I could find a different time that works?"

Mira nodded and said, "Yeah, let's do that. What time would that be?"

"Ah, tomorrow after 2 I don't have any classes, so I could do then."

"Oh." She frowned. "I'm... a bit busy tomorrow. Could you do something later in the day? Like 7:30?"

That was later than I was imagining, but I was willing to be flexible. "Yeah, that works."

"Thanks so much."

"Anyway, I have to--"

"Yeah, of course. Sorry for holding you up. See you tomorrow." She waved and smiled, then turned to leave.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I said. My head was spinning, and I just hoped the movie could distract me.

---

Come 7:30 I trekked back to my building for the impromptu office hours. The controller was in my pocket and set to 12. I was nervous about the situation, but much more so when I realized I couldn't get in. My key only worked for my office, and as it turned out, not for the front door. I doubted anyone would let me in at that time of night, so I stood around sheepishly till Mira arrived. I greeted her as she approached: "Hi Mira. It turns out I can't open this." I was too embarrassed to even look her in the eyes.

"It's locked?"

"Yeah. It turns out my key only works on my personal office door."

She seemed crestfallen, and looked around for a moment. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Like where?" I tried to think of somewhere that would still be open, and could only come up with the library. That would do, but it wasn't quite the same.

"If it's not too personal... do you want to just come over to my apartment? It's only a few blocks away," she said.

I couldn't believe my luck, even if I might have played a part too. I didn't want to get ahead of myself, and-- Right. I needed to actually respond. "Yeah, that would work."

We joked along the way, and it took all I had to not stare. She was dressed casually but yet so, so well: a knit sweater that showed her shoulders, tight leggings, and hair hanging straight down. When she laughed I laughed with her, and took the opportunity to soak in her face. Just a hint of perfume filled my nose, a sweet warm scent.

Some crossings and a flight of stairs later, we were in front of her door. Thankfully hers opened without trouble. "No one's home," she assured me. It was a small place and I wondered if it was just hers. But it was cozy, with books strewn across the counter and fairy lights hanging by the window. She apologized for the mess but I didn't see much of one at all.

We turned to each other, and after a moment I broke eye contact, as though if I looked too long I would never get out. "So, yeah, the paper," she said.

"Right," I replied. Even though that was what we came to do, it had nearly slipped my mind. I wondered if Mira might be distracted too.

She pulled out a laptop and opened it on her kitchen counter. I had no choice but to sit beside her so I did just that. Her perfume was strong from so close, hints of vanilla and something else I couldn't place. She had her draft open and we looked at it, but I struggled to focus on the words. As she walked me through it I did my best to say "Mhm" at the appropriate times, but I had little of substance to say.

When we reached the end she asked, "What do you think?", and I was a deer in headlights.

"I, ah, might need to re-read it. I'm not really sure."

"Here," she said, and she pushed the computer in front of me. "Go at your own pace." I scrolled back to the top and tried to refocus, but she leaned over against me to look. Her shoulder rested by mine and though my shirt was in the way I got the sense she was so soft. I re-read the first sentence maybe ten times before I started to get what it was about. It was nothing unfamiliar, but at the moment I felt like a freshman in 101.

She must have noticed because she asked, "Do you want to take a minute to relax? And then we'll come back to it?" I agreed, and breathed a sigh of relief. She seemed to be smiling and I seemed to be melting.

It was a small room, so the only other place to sit was the bed. She sat and saw my hesitation and told me, "Feel free to sit." I did and she relaxed her body, letting her feet swing. "So, do you like being a TA?" she asked.

I wasn't sure what to say, but I tried my best. "It's pretty good. It's nice to help people. I guess this is my favorite part."

"Mine, too," she said. She got up. "I'll be back in a sec, it's just a little hot in this sweater." She left the room and came back holding her sweater, now just in a short white shirt and her leggings. "I just want to say, again, that I really appreciate you going to this effort to help me," she said. She sat back down beside me, a hair closer than before.

"It's, ah, my pleasure," I managed. I turned to her and saw she was closer than I realized, eyes no more than a foot from mine and staring right back. I think she knew more about me than I did, in that moment.

We kissed. Once, briefly, and after a moment we kissed again, more tenderly. She looked into my eyes again and I looked back, mouth agape. She leaned to my ear and whispered, "Let me thank you." I breathed out and she planted more kisses along my cheek and neck. I rubbed her back lightly under her shirt, but was otherwise inclined to let her do as she wished.

One by one the buttons of my shirt came off, her hands hungrily exploring my chest and pushing me back onto the bed. When they were undone she took off her own shirt, revealing a simple white lace bra. I reached up to unhook it, letting her breasts hang free. They were breathtaking, big and soft, and just as stunning was her face, now a mixture of confidence and animal need.

She unzipped my jeans, then pulled off the rest of her own clothes, revealing bit by bit her toned, lithe figure. When she was done she lay back on the bed, legs hanging off, and locked eyes with me.

"Take it."

Her whisper gave me shivers. I took out my cock, which pulsed with desire, and brought it to the opening of her pussy. I pushed the tip in slowly as Mira watched, biting her lip. Soon all of it was in and she quietly moaned, "oh." Her grasp sent ripples of pleasure through me, too, warm and intense, and I moaned as well.

I was atop her now and started to thrust, her body in rhythm with mine. Her breathing quickened and she started to whimper with pleasure at each thrust. I couldn't think anymore, knowing only her warmth and our mutual need. Back and forth like there was nothing else.

"I'm close," she said, and I felt it too. The most I could do was keep pace and not lose it right then and there. "Oh god..." she murmured, and a moment later she brought her hands to the back of my head. I'd been watching her mouth tense and her breasts heave, but she turned my head to look directly into her eyes. She stared right back at me and the energy in them was primal. Looking into me, she finally moaned, "I'm... I'm coming."

Her words were too much for me, and I couldn't hold back any longer either. Her pussy tightened and my seed spilled out in waves. Ecstasy rippled through my body, up to my scalp and all the way down to my toes. She buckled and writhed too, clutching the blankets at her side. The moment felt like minutes, but finally we were both still. I tried to speak but I couldn't; all I could do was keep looking into her eyes as we panted. It seemed like she didn't understand what happened, and I felt like I didn't know, either. Eventually she sat up and I sat back on the bed beside her.

"Wow," I said. That was about the only thought left in my head.

"Yeah."

"Should we...?" It felt strange to remember that no more than ten minutes ago we were talking about a research paper.

"Oh, that?" She smiled. "Not just yet."

She put her head back to rest, feet hanging off the bed, and I did too.