tagMind ControlGood Morning Little School Girl

Good Morning Little School Girl


Serena stood on the edge of the sidewalk, letting the anticipation build for a long moment as she stared at the imposing building in front of her. At least, she thought it looked imposing. It was hard to tell, really, because everyone else passing by simply ignored it. They just walked right past it, their gaze sliding off the marble columns and elegantly-manicured lawn as though none of it was there, and the only thing they seemed to register was that some girl was in their way.

That was what made Serena tingle with excitement. She could see that look in their eyes, that glassy stare that flickered on their faces just for a moment as their minds told them to ignore the evidence of their senses. They didn't see the building because they'd been commanded not to see it. It was really possible. It was really true. She hadn't believed it at first, back when she saw the ad for the very first time. Even when she'd found out, some part of her had still expected it to be some sort of elaborate scam. But now, seeing it right in front of her...she took a deep breath, reveling in the moment. "One small step for man, one giant leap for sex, money and power," she muttered as she planted her foot dramatically on the campus grounds. It felt like the beginning of a new life, and as Serena headed towards her new destiny, she found herself going over the path that had led her here one more time in her head.

To think, it had all started with watching "Saturday Night Live" with her friends...


At first, Serena figured it was just another of their classic gag advertisements, a parody of those godawful Sally Struthers correspondence school ads that always popped up on late night television. "Do you ever find yourself frustrated by the way other people act?" asked the pitchman, a nondescript man with a goatee and thick glasses, wearing a nondescript gray suit. "Do you feel like your life would be better if people just did what you said? Do you think your life would be better if you had total control of the people you deal with every day?"

Serena broke out into wild giggles when the 'Mind Control University' logo popped up on the screen. "Well, now you can make that dream come true!" the pitchman replied. "Here at Mind Control University, we offer two-year and four-year degrees in virtually every aspect of bending the minds of others to your will. Whether your skills lie in technology, psychology, chemistry, graphic arts, or metaphysics, you'll find that our expert teaching staff can help nurture your gifts until everyone you know obeys your every command!"

By then, Serena was absolutely rolling on the floor. What made the gag so perfect was that they didn't use one of their regular performers, or even a celebrity guest. Putting a total unknown in as the spokesman made the whole thing look like it was real, even as the subject matter made it clear just how absurd it was. "Mind Control University offers hands-on learning experiences, giving you the chance to practice your skills by enslaving and brainwashing people in your everyday life! Want a sex slave? A human ATM? Or do you just want to put that snobbish jerk you see every day in their place? Whatever your motives, you'll find that Mind Control University can help you bring your dreams to life."

A phone number flashed up on the screen, and Serena noticed that they'd made a huge mistake by not using a 555 prefix. Not that anyone would believe it or anything, but she knew how people were. There was always someone who had to try the number, just to see who would answer. They were bound to get tons of calls asking to learn how to control people's minds. "Call now," a voiceover said, as the phone number flashed urgently. "Operators are standing by!"

It took Serena a good minute or so to calm down, and at first, she assumed that her friends were just looking at her funny because she couldn't stop laughing. It wasn't until Chad asked her, "What's so funny?" that she realized that they didn't seem to find the joke amusing at all.

"The fake ad," she said. "The one for 'Mind Control University'."

"What ad?" Jenny asked.

Serena argued, but after a few minutes it became clear that she was the only person who had actually noticed the advertisement airing. The rest of them got bogged down in arguments as to whether it was Simple Green, CLR, or OxiClean that they'd just seen pitched to them. Then "Weekend Update" came on, and everyone forgot about it completely while they watched Seth Meyers ripping into Sarah Palin.

At the time, Serena figured they were joking, pretending to be brainwashed into not remembering the mind control ad. It was about the kind of humor you'd expect from someone who was nineteen and still thought "Saturday Night Live" was actually funny. But a small part of her really wished she'd paid more attention to that telephone number...

If that had been the only time she'd seen the ad, she probably would have forgotten about it. But it kept cropping up, during "ElimiDATE" and re-runs of "Night Man" and "Xena" and all the other shows she wound up watching late at night after getting off work, too wired to sleep but not awake enough to do anything productive.

She just kept seeing ad after ad for Mind Control University, with the same boring guy in the bland suit explaining how easy it was to get out of that dead-end job and make other people earn your money. Every time she saw it, Serena found herself daydreaming about how nice it would be to stop having to pull double shifts as a prep cook at Friday's just to make the rent, or how awesome it would be to actually try some of those fantasies she'd had about being with another girl without having to worry about asking a girl to have sex with her. She kept fantasizing about the ad when she masturbated, picturing the porn stars in her videos performing just for her, at her command... Finally, after a couple of weeks, she just had to give in to her curiosity and call.

"Yes, ma'am," the operator responded almost before she could finish asking her first question, in a bored tone that suggested he heard it all the time. "It's very real. Only those people with the intellectual aptitude and moral flexibility to actually be considered for our courses can remember seeing the advertisement. Everyone else just sees an ad for a cleaning product."

"So if I see the ad, I'm in?" Serena asked, barely able to contain herself. "I mean, seeing the ad means I have the right stuff, right?" She wondered whether Jenny didn't see the ad because she wasn't willing to brainwash people, or whether she just didn't have the intelligence to figure out how. She wondered if she could make Jenny rim her out while Chad ate her pussy, and she squirmed in her chair at the idea. She knew that she'd be jilling off like crazy as soon as she got off the phone.

"There are some further aptitude tests you need to complete," the operator said, and even as Serena tensed up with worry that she might not get in, she tensed up further with arousal at the realization that the vacant tone in his voice wasn't boredom. "If you just want to give us your address, we can send them out to you as soon as possible. You'll want to get them back to us within ten business days in order to be considered for this spring's classes."

Serena rattled off her name and address, almost tripping over the words in her haste to get them out. "And, um, tuition?" she asked nervously. "I, um, I don't have a lot of money..."

"Money isn't a concern for the school," the operator replied. Of course, Serena realized. It wouldn't be, would it? Not if they could do what they said they could. "Naturally, alumni are encouraged to assist the university with their time and skills, but we don't charge tuition. Our founder simply wants to find and nurture those people whose talents might otherwise go to waste." Somehow, even that sounded sexy in that mindless voice.

She stammered out a few thanks, then hung up the phone and jammed her hand into her panties. The whole time she pumped her fingers in and out of her soupy cunt, she pictured Brad Pitt fucking her while talking dirty in the same blank, empty voice that phone operator had used. By the time she worked her way up to the sex toys, Brad had been joined by Tom Cruise, Angelina Jolie, and the starting line-up of the Los Angeles Lakers. By the time the test finally got to her mailbox, a few days later, she'd gone through three-quarters of People's 100 Most Beautiful People list, half of her co-workers, six batteries and a full tube of lube.

After she sent out the test, though, Serena was too nervous to masturbate. (And too sore...there were limits to what K-Y could do.) She slept poorly, stuck in recurring dreams where the test got lost in the mail, or she got rejected and brainwashed into forgetting it never happened, or where it turned out to be a FBI sting operation to catch perverts with mind control fantasies. When the envelope finally showed up in the mail, she was almost too afraid to open it.


And now she was walking into the building, acceptance letter clutched tightly in her fingers as she headed up to the front desk at reception. All around her, the building buzzed with activity--she saw professors wheeling complex devices into classrooms, students walking down the halls with naked men and women trailing behind them, and staff scurrying about on various tasks with glazed eyes and vacant smiles. It all made Serena feel even younger than her nineteen years--she felt like a little kid again, lost among the grown-ups on her first day of school. "Hi," she said to the woman behind the desk, her voice cracking a little with anxiety, "it's my first day. Where do I, um...?"

The woman smiled, and Serena let out a tiny whimper. She would need to get used to seeing that expression without wanting to go find a bathroom stall to finger herself in, she thought, or she was never going to be able to concentrate enough to pass her classes. "You'll want to report to Freshman Orientation, ma'am," she said. "Just head down that entrance there into the East Wing, and it's the fourth door on your left on this floor, room 108. Look for a sign saying, 'New Students Here.' And welcome to Mind Control University! It'll be a pleasure serving you, ma'am!"

Serena mentally changed 'serving' to 'servicing' as she headed down the wide hallway towards Room 108, and shivered. How did anyone manage to keep their mind on their studies here? She refused to believe that the other students weren't interested in using their newly-acquired knowledge to get laid. How could anyone not look at those pliant, obedient faces and not think about using them as fuckdolls? Serena grinned. She'd never taken much of an interest in schoolwork before, but she realized now that she'd just never had the proper motivation.

About a dozen other freshmen were in the orientation room when she got there, and she was a little startled to see the man from the ads was there as well. "Hi," she said in a squeak. "I'm Serena. Serena Dalton."

The man looked down at a list of names, and checked hers off. "You're the last one we were waiting for," he said. "Glad you could make it." He looked up at the rest of the group. "Good morning," he said, in those same measured tones he'd used on late-night television. "I'm Doctor Joshua Scott, the founder and dean of Mind Control University. I'm sure you all recognize me from the ads."

There were a few scattered chuckles as he continued. Serena recognized her own laugh as a release of nervous tension as much as a response to what humor there was in the statement. "The very fact that you were able to see those ads marks you out as one of a select few. For most people, mind control is simply an idle fantasy. Some might fear the idea, some might perhaps see it as something to be daydreamed about but never believed to be real, and even a few might believe in its existence, but only you the unique skills and mindset necessary to take that dream and make it a reality."

Serena drank in his words eagerly as he gestured at the room around him. "I was once in that place where you are now, realizing that mind control was a genuine, practical possibility but unsure of how to make it happen. It took me long hours of study and work to turn my dreams into a reality. Once I did, I decided that the next step was to find all those potential Joshua Scotts out there, and make sure that they wouldn't need to find their own paths to success. Here at MCU, you've joined a community of like-minded individuals with the same goals and interests as yourself. Right now, you're young, nervous, and perhaps wondering if you have what it takes to succeed here. I guarantee you, by the time you've graduated, you will be calm, confident, and quite literally in command."

That brought quite a few more chuckles. "Shall we take the campus tour?" he asked. Serena nodded so enthusiastically that she probably looked like a bobble-head doll, and she saw all around her that the other freshmen were equally excited. Doctor Scott ushered them out of the room with a smile.

"This is the West Wing," he said as they walked, "home to our science and mathematics curriculum. This floor here is devoted to the chemistry and biology labs--Doctors Schmidt and Hoffman teach those subjects, respectively. Doctor Schmidt is a neurosurgeon who understands the human brain more than anyone else alive--if you're going to specialize in implanting devices in people's skulls, you'll be seeing a lot of him."

"Um, Doctor Scott," Serena said, a little nervously.

"Please," he replied, "call me Joshua. Calling me 'Doctor Scott' makes me feel like I have to respond with, 'Brad! Janet! Rocky!'"

Serena smiled a little, relaxing just enough that she could get her question out without stammering. "I was just wondering...we don't have to actually mess with people's brains, do we? I mean, like cut them open and stick stuff inside?" She shuddered at the thought. "I don't think I could do that."

Joshua smiled warmly. "No, not at all. Doctor Hoffman specializes in chemical means of control and--ah, here we are!" He opened a door. "Now if you'll all be quiet," he said in hushed tones, "I believe he's demonstrating to the class right now."

Serena found herself glad she was up near the front, as all the new students tried their best to get an unobstructed view of the chemistry lab. But she had a perfect view of an elderly man in a lab-coat, holding a small sponge in a pair of tongs. Next to him, a young woman was tied to a chair, the cloth tied around her mouth and her struggles making it clear that she wasn't a volunteer.

"Now this particular solution," Doctor Hoffman said in a thick German accent, "is absorbed through the skin. We must be very careful when preparing it! But as you see, it has the immediate effect, no?" He pressed the sponge to the hollow of the girl's neck. She struggled desperately to avoid it, but there was too little give in the ropes. Within seconds, her struggles had ceased and she slumped down in the chair. The edges of the gag began to dampen with traces of drool.

Joshua closed the door. Serena craned her neck around as he did so to take in every last second of the girl's descent into obedience. "Many of you will be studying Doctor Hoffman's approach," he said as he headed towards the stairs, "but some of you will be working with our technology department up on the second floor." They followed him along, even as a few of them (including Serena) cast envious glances back towards Hoffman's lab.

"In here," Joshua continued as they walked, "you'll be studying the physics of high-frequency microwaves and their use in altering human thought patterns, how to make nanobots that can resculpt a human being's neural pathways, and other similar methods of mind control. This is also where you'd make electronic implants that can alter thoughts and emotions...unless, like Serena here, you're squeamish about such things." The group had a good chuckle at that, but Serena entertained quiet thoughts about making them regret their laughter...possibly literally.

"Naturally, it's not all about the mere taking of control," Joshua continued. "Up on the third floor, we have our economics department, where you'll learn how to manage a harem of obedient slaves in the most efficient way possible. Sure, it's easy to get a few brainwashed CEOs working for you, but if you don't manage their money efficiently, then you wind up collapsing a multi-national corporation instead of living high on the hog. And before you ask, no, none of our graduates have been anywhere near Detroit in the last few years." Serena laughed, mentally bidding farewell to her tiny apartment.

They crossed over to the East Wing as Joshua continued his talk. "Here, we have what we like to call the 'soft sciences', psychology and metaphysics. If your talents lie more towards gentle persuasion instead of physical control, this is where you'll be nurturing them. We're passing the graphics arts department, which specializes in subliminal messages like the ones that keep our ads so exclusive. You'll understand if I don't show you inside on your first day--after all, right now you're just as susceptible as everyone else."

They descended the stairwell. "The third floor of the East Wing, by the way, contains our history and cultural departments. I believe it to be important to learn not just the hows of mind control, but also the whys and wherefores. You'll be studying cultural depictions of mind control with Professor Lamarche, and learning about historical developments in the field all the way up from Franz Mesmer to Milton Erickson." Serena had never had much of an interest in history, but adding mind control made even her least favorite subject sound cool. How long had this been going on? How many famous people were secretly the puppets of sinister hypnotists or mad scientists? Serena suddenly felt like there was so much to learn. She just hoped she could take it all in.

"Speaking of Mesmer and Erickson..." Joshua pointed to a door. "The hypnosis labs are soundproofed to prevent the subjects from getting accidental suggestions from passers-by like us, but you can look through the window to see the sort of thing you'll be doing."

Serena wasn't quite fast enough to get up to the window first, but there were only a few people ahead of her. Even so, it felt like an eternity before they moved away and gave her a chance to see what was going on inside the room.

She saw a striking woman with dark hair bound up in a bun. The woman held a pendant in front of the eyes of a handsome, naked young man, and was gently stroking and rubbing his cock while the pendant swayed and danced. He was following every motion of it with his eyes, and his jaw was slack with amazement as he watched it swing back and forth. Serena couldn't hear what the woman was saying, of course, but weeks of fantasies had given her plenty of ideas.

"That's Professor Blanco, head of our Hypnosis Department. Many of you will be receiving instruction from her--no pun intended, of course." They were heading back across the building now, moving through the main reception area towards the orientation room again. "Don't feel bad, by the way, if you don't master every method of mind control we offer. I myself have never had much luck with hypnosis. My first advice to you would be to find what works best for you and make it work to your advantage."

They all filed back into the orientation room, and Joshua wheeled a television set out of the corner to the front of the room as they took their seats. "Now, I expect you're probably wondering where you start learning all this stuff. I expect a few of you are wondering whether you can learn all this stuff." A few people laughed a little too loudly at that one, Serena included. "Don't worry," he said, "I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't think you had what it took to be genuine mind controllers."

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