The Academy

by

Valentina Michelle Smith

 

Part 3

 

Just about everybody who worked in The Hunter Group IS Department agreed that they were in Geek Paradise.

Developers and Analysts were spoiled at The Hunter Group. Everybody had at least one PC with a dual video display at their desk, and everyone also had a laptop. Developers had two and sometimes three PC's in their office configured as mini-networks. Soda, bottled water, coffee, tea, and fruit juice was provided for free and always on hand. Bagels and fruit were brought in every morning, and Friday was pizza day. There were video games, chessboards, and indoor basketball courts to help get over those annoying creative blocks when they cropped up. Dress code? We don't need no stinkin' dress code! Cargo pants, t-shirts, and sneakers were the rule. Cubicles were out; everybody had his or her own office with a door, and if you felt like it, you could take advantage of the wi-fi and work in the lounge area. Plus, there were plenty of "team-building exercises" at the ball park or the movies.

You might think that given such a free-wheeling atmosphere, nothing would ever get done. You would be wrong. The Hunter Group's output was always top notch and always on time. The Hunter Geeks (as they referred to themselves) took incredible pride in their work and repaid the generosity of their employer with one of the finest Enterprise Resource Programs in the world.

The Hunter Geeks were a very tightly-knit group. They were more family than co-workers. It was not unusual for one of the geeks to be a godparent for another geek's child, or to be the maid of honor or best man for a fellow geek. Pictures of spouses, kids, significant others, pets, and midlife-crisis cars adorned every desk.

Just as icing on the cake, the Hunter Geeks enjoyed the highest rate of pay in the area, including company-paid benefits, bonuses, a 510k plan, and a generous vacation policy. And did I mention flextime?

Diana wondered why, given such a virtual Shangri-la, one of the geeks would betray her.

At first she doubted the results of her data-mining and stubbornly repeated the analysis with tighter controls. The resulting analysis only confirmed the first run. Diana's mole was one of the pampered geeks in her IS department. That knowledge hurt her, and made her all the more determined to eliminate the mole.

Diana knew what her first step would be. She needed to isolate the individual who had corrupted her group. But this had to be done carefully lest she show her hand. Best let her mole remain ignorant. She would give the mole plenty of disinformation to pass on. Perhaps this could be turned to her advantage.

 

* * * * *

Awakening from the conversion process was as traumatic as birth. JoEllen coughed and gagged as though she would eventually hack up her lungs.

She had just emerged from the conversion chamber. The oxygenated fluid she had breathed for the past ten weeks was being replaced with air, and the fluid had to be expelled from her lungs. There was no easy way to do this.

She was kneeling as she continued to cough fluid out of her system. She felt as if she might die from a coughing fit. Then, a wave of euphoria washed over her. She continued to cough but no longer worried about it. Her brain's pleasure center was being directly stimulated by the transdermal governor implanted behind her right ear.

The coughing spasm was over in a few minutes, but JoEllen felt weak. She struggled to her feet. She felt very different, as though her body had changed.

Several Mistresses helped JoEllen to stand. They guided her to a full-length mirror so that she could see her new body.

She had to admit, it was stunning. It was as close to a perfect female body as she had ever seen. Despite her wet, matted hair, she looked beautiful. Ample breasts, perky nipples, and flaring hips gave JoEllen a sensuous and decidedly sexy appearance. Even her facial structure was different, with a femininely pointed chin and high cheekbones. Her proportions were perfect; sensual, bordering on seductive.

Desdemona was on hand to greet her. "It's like being born all over again. We arrive in this world wet and naked, and then things go downhill. But in your case, Jessica, things will only get better."

The Mistresses helped JoEllen into a hospital gown and guided her into a bed. "How long will I be here?" she asked.

"Not very long," Desdemona answered. "A day or two at the most. We maintained your muscle tone with electrical stimulation, but you still need to get accustomed to your new body."

JoEllen reached down to her groin. The package she had grown up with was now gone. In its place was a very unfamiliar cleft. "It's true!" she said, "I'm really a woman."

"You are indeed, Jessica. Nobody on earth will ever be able to tell that you were ever male. You are a woman in every possible way."

JoEllen now felt her breasts. She had often imagined what breasts of her own would be like. She had some idea from the very limited development resulting from hormones forced on her during her captivity as a teen. But these were different, unlike anything she could have imagined. Her nipples had never fully developed into those of a fully mature woman. These wonderfully enlarged sensuous bumps of soft skin were amazing! She found herself gently stroking them with her fingertips.

Then something else occurred to her. She felt a familiar yet unfamiliar urge. "I think I need to go to the bathroom," she said.

A mistress helped her to the toilet. She sat down and relaxed her sphincter. Now this really felt different! The flow was directed in a totally different direction. It was more than just sitting down to urinate, it was a completely foreign sensation.

"You'll need to wipe yourself," the mistress told her. "It's the price we pay for being the superior sex."

"I think I can get used to it," JoEllen said. "Thanks for helping me."

"Not at all," said the mistress. "If you need anything just ring for the maid. I imagine you are feeling hungry."

"Yes, I'm famished."

"We'll start you on a light diet and see how you progress. No need to add any fat to that gorgeous figure."

JoEllen finished wiping herself and managed to stand without help. She could feel her strength returning. She had a feeling she would not be in bed for long.

Her prediction proved to be correct. She was walking by the evening and could stand without assistance. By the next day she was strong enough to resume her exercise regimen. The Academy's doctors, all women, advised her to increase her workout gradually.

Within a week, JoEllen was running five kilometers morning and evening.

 

* * * * *

Jaydeep Kumar had lived all of his life in America. His parents had immigrated from India and still adhered more-or-less to their old ways and beliefs. Jay had not exactly abandoned them, but he was as American as a boy could be. He spoke English with no trace of an accent, and managed to effortlessly interject "dude" and "yo" and other obvious Americanisms into his conversation. And it had been a long time since he had seen the inside of a temple. Intelligent and college-educated, Jay made a very comfortable living developing interface protocols for The Hunter Group. He drove a BMW Z4 roadster to work every day, prompting more than a few of his co-workers to bust on him about being too young for a midlife crisis.

He had just negotiated the highways from his job at the corporate center to his condo, a drive of about 45 minutes. Jay didn't mind the drive. He enjoyed putting his BMW through its paces while the sound system blasted hip-hop. (Gotta love that sub-woofer!) He pulled up to his condo building and took the elevator to his crib on the top floor.

Jay's condo was furnished with a cacophony of stuff from IKEA. He had little if any feel for color or design, as the decor of his condo bore stark witness. His living room was a place for his home theater system to exist, as well as his personal computer, a dual-core affair with killer video and sound boards he had built for the sole purpose of video gaming. Presently it sat powered down in the corner, neglected for several months along with his huge plasma TV. Something new was now taking up all of his time, a woman.

"Hello, lover," Ginny purred as Jay entered. She was sprawled on the sofa clad in a very tight and very revealing outfit. It left just enough to the imagination to drive any man with an iota of testosterone into a sexual frenzy. "Why don't you sit down next to me after your hard day?"

Jay plopped down his laptop and sat himself down next to Ginny, who immediately laid a wet juicy kiss on him and proceeded to stroke his body. Within a few seconds his shirt was unbuttoned and discarded on the floor next to Ginny's halter top. The two of them were getting down to some pretty intense foreplay.

As Jay ran his tongue over Ginny's nipple he once again thought about his incredible fortune. He had never been particularly lucky with female relationships. The closest thing he ever had to a steady girlfriend was a fellow hacker who seemed more interested in Jay's hard drive than his hard on. Oh, he had gotten lucky a few times at science fiction conventions, but you had to be pretty bad if you couldn't hook up at least once at a sci-fi con. Ironically, he had met Ginny at a con.

Ginny was hot, the kind of girl one only encountered in a fantasy. They were both in costumes; he was in a Star Trek uniform (original series, red shirt) and she was resplendent as Dejah Thoris, the Martian Princess. Buxom and sensuous, Ginny in costume was like a Vargas girl incarnate. For some reason she latched onto Jay and they were inseparable for the rest of the con.

Ginny was without a doubt the finest lover Jay had ever encountered in his young and inexperienced life, and she seemed hopelessly devoted to him. They were immediately an item, and within a month she had moved into his place. She didn't change anything in the apartment, but did manage to keep it a lot cleaner. In addition, she just loved to cook and always did his laundry. It was like having a live-in maid with sex on top. Jay had to be the luckiest geek in the galaxy.

The heavy foreplay got a lot hotter and they were soon at it right on the couch. Jay felt like some kind of healthy phallic animal as he exploded into Ginny's eager loins. He was shouting in ecstasy, invoking God, His Son, and a number of other deities as he spent his lust on her. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the couch and promptly fell asleep.

Ginny knew he would be out for at least an hour or two, plenty of time to download the data from the snooper she had installed on his laptop. It was an ingenious little bit of software, posing as a very innocuous dynamic link library. In fact, it would set a worm loose every day that it was connected to the network. That worm did nothing to harm the network, it simply gathered pertinent information. Every night, as she had for the past year and a half, Ginny extracted the information and relayed it to her employer. Or, to put it more precisely, her mistress, Desdemona Raventree.

The information was extracted simply into Ginny's Blackberry and forwarded over a wireless link. It looked like just another e-mail, but its attachment contained any and all information that the snooper could glean from the network concerning Diana Hunter.

Ginny finished and replaced the laptop. Then she snuggled next to Jay. In a way, she had become rather fond of Jay, the way an owner became fond of a pet. Sexually he left much to be desired, but Ginny had shown him a few things in the last year. His next girlfriend would definitely benefit from Ginny's training. She knew that it would break Jay's heart when her assignment was over and she simply vanished. She took a kind of wicked delight in thinking about it. For now, she could enjoy the way she led him around helplessly by his dick.

 

* * * * *

As one of the newest Mistresses, JoEllen got to assist as a new class of juvenile offenders was delivered to The Academy. Experienced Mistresses had tutored her for a few weeks. Now her hands-on training would begin.

Desdemona Raventree gave the new "girls" her standard speech, and one of the boys started to snicker. JoEllen's partner, a senior Mistress named Charlotte, took her riding crop and jammed it into the boy's gut. The impact was sufficient to double him over. "No talking in line!" Charlotte commanded.

Now the boys were all forced to their knees as the transdermal governors were implanted. As the boys all rose, Raventree pressed the pain stud on her riding crop. The boy that JoEllen had just implanted with a transdermal governor fell to the ground with all of the others. JoEllen remembered the intensity of that pain. She shuddered to think that she would now be required to administer the same pain herself, whenever one of her "girls" was slow, unladylike, or not properly responsive. She steeled herself for the task, knowing that it would be necessary in order to protect her cover.

Desdemona continued her spiel, explaining to the unruly boys that they would be molded into proper young ladies and taught the subservient skills of a domestic servant. She then instructed the boys to strip.

JoEllen's charge hesitated. JoEllen did not hesitate to punish him. "Get those clothes off, missy, and I mean now" she commanded. He stripped down to his skin. Now he was handed a canvas sack and instructed to don the female clothing it contained. She observed the boy's expression of horror as he pulled on the panties, struggled with the brassiere, and had to be shown how to roll stockings so that they could be pulled over his legs. JoEllen had to prod him a few more times with her crop, but in short order he was dressed in The Academy's uniform, a plaid jumper and white blouse.

JoEllen looked at the boys, now all wearing jumpers and standing uncertainly in their pumps. They all had an expression of fear and despair. She remembered her own first day at The Academy, just about a year ago.

There was one final ceremony. Each boy was now assigned a female name, which was his for the rest of his life. Their lives as boys were over. From this moment forward, they were girls.

The "girls" now marched in single file to the dormitory. There was still much to do to mold them into proper ladies. JoEllen stayed behind. Only two mistresses would be needed to guide the girls to their new quarters.

Desdemona walked over to JoEllen. "Did you enjoy that, Jessica?" she asked, using the name JoEllen had been assigned on her first day.

JoEllen had an answer ready, one that was designed to please and flatter Raventree. "Yes, I enjoyed having power. But mostly I enjoyed watching their horrified expressions."

"Did it remind you of your own first day, my dear?"

"Yes, and no. I was frightened, but I was also determined to survive. I didn't see that in these girls. None of them showed any sign of spirit."

Raventree smiled. Now she was certain she had made a good choice. "You are a smart girl, Jessica. Keep up the good work." She turned and headed back to the office.

Her partner Charlotte said, "Looks like you impressed Mistress Desdemona, kid. You're off to a good start."

"I just hope I can keep on impressing her," JoEllen said.

"Tomorrow is when the fun begins. We get to wake our girls in the wee hours of the morning and instruct them in the feminine art of shaving. And then we hand out the wigs. They'll look just so darling!"

"They should thank us," JoEllen said. "What would they have become? Serial killers? Rapists? Petty thugs? The life of a servant is better than the best they could ever expect."

"Absolutely, Jessica. Mistress Raventree is right, you are a smart girl. Say, how about some dinner? Let's head over to the staff dining hall."

"I'll meet you there later, Charlotte. I want to get my evening run in. Don't want to lose this great figure!"

"That sounds like a good idea. Care for a running partner?"

"Certainly, dear. Let's get changed and I'll meet you at the track in fifteen minutes."

"I'll be there."

 

* * * * *

Malcolm Estes relaxed in his ergonomic leather office chair. He had just concluded a very successful negotiation with a major real-estate developer to build his new corporate headquarters.

Estes was proud of his accomplishments. Starting out as a small-time distributor of electrical parts for the industrial controls industry, Estes had risen to become one of the pre-eminent forces in the computer-controlled process industry. Estes Products, Inc., was synonymous with high quality and dependability, a fact that the marketing department was always ready to point out. It was hard to believe that this behemoth of the business world, a shining example of capitalism at its greatest, started from an office above an auto body shop with two shipping clerks and an office manager/accountant. That last person was Estes' former wife, Bertha.

Bertha was Malcolm's biggest supporter back in the old days. She had a knack for discovering creative but legal financing schemes that managed to keep the fledgling company one step ahead of receivership. She kept the books, paid the rent, processed the payroll, paid the taxes, and did whatever it took to keep Malcolm's dream alive. Malcolm never knew that she once pawned her engagement ring to meet a payroll. In fact, Malcolm was unaware of most of the daily little functions required of a small business. That was Bertha's job. His job was to dream big. He took a huge chance on another dreamer with a scheme to run a factory using a PC. It was a gamble that paid off.

Now Malcolm could look back on the years with a touch of nostalgia. The little office over the body shop soon hired four full-time software developers. Then it hired four more. Then it moved into an industrial campus in the suburbs, hired a dozen more programmers along with a full-time office manager and an accountant, and soon had more business than it could handle.

Bertha was happy with her husband's success, and just as happy to quit as the gal Friday and devote her time to raising their children. She enjoyed the fruits of Malcolm's prosperity, especially because of her part in achieving it. She managed their estate and its service staff with the same skill that she had managed the office. She proudly watched her children grow, complete college, and strike out on their own as successful professionals. She was content, and believed Malcolm was also content.

It came as a complete surprise when she was served with divorce papers.

Much of the success of Estes Products over the last three years could be attributed to its wunderkind CFO, Antares Mason. Ann's performance in Marketing attracted the attention of Management, who recognized her talent and rapidly promoted her. She became the youngest VP in the company's history and, when Chief Financial Officer Dave Strampe met with a tragic traffic accident, was offered the position with the enthusiastic endorsement of the Board of Directors. She worked closely with Malcolm, forging a solid professional relationship.

Eventually, the professional relationship gave way to a physical one. Ann was, after all, an attractive woman. Some would say she was sensual, an attribute she never denied. Indeed, her very capability and power lent her an incredibly sensuous aura. It was this sensuality that led Malcolm Estes to abandon his mate and companion of over thirty years.

The settlement was quite generous. Bertha received the house and all of its furnishings in addition to a handsome annuity. Bertha and her children would want for nothing except a husband and father. Malcolm moved into a luxury apartment in the city with his new trophy bride, Antares. They did sign a pre-nuptial agreement, but Malcolm did not pay it much heed. Ann's lawyers took care of the details. Malcolm trusted her judgment when it came to business.

Relaxing in his office, Malcolm now reflected on his current life, and found it was quite satisfying. He was definitely breathing that rarefied air of success. He had a prosperous business, a sexy young wife, and the admiration of the business community. It was good to be him.

The door to his private office opened. Antares entered. She was wearing a banker's gray suit with a camisole blouse and four-inch pumps, an outfit that exuded power and sensuality at the same time. She walked over and kissed Malcolm, playfully biting his ear and giving him a whiff of her very exotic perfume. "So how did it go, lover?" she asked, making her request sound like a purring cat.

Malcolm reached up and drew her onto his lap. Their lips met and their tongues darted back and forth. They held this position for several minutes, caressing each other in a manner quite inappropriate for the office. Finally they came up for air.

"It's a go, Ann. Estes Tower will be the crown jewel of the city, and our penthouse suite will be the finest anywhere. The view will be magnificent."

"Wonderful, darling. We can look down upon our adoring subjects."

They laughed.

"You know, Ann," Malcolm said, "in a way we are like royalty. Let's face it, we are probably the most powerful individuals on the coast, at least as far as the world of business is concerned. Just think of all of the companies we control. We're bigger than some countries, and I don't mean the Third World."

"So true, lover, and the power is intoxicating. I find it quite the aphrodisiac." She began to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt.

"Ann," said Malcolm, surprised at his young wife's advances, "are you serious? I mean, here in the office?"

Antares Estes stared at her husband with total lust. "Lock the door," was all she said.

Malcolm soon found himself au naturel in his ergonomic office chair while his equally naked wife straddled his pelvis and impaled herself on his manhood. He soon forgot that they were in his office, conscious only of Ann as she squeezed and ground his erect member with her torrid muscles. He could not believe the intensity of his orgasm as his seminal vesicles spasmed.

He was just as surprised at the incredible pain that seemed to leap from his chest and up his arm. It felt like an elephant was crushing his chest. He struggled to push Ann away, but to no avail. His strength failed as his heart died, deprived of oxygen.

The autopsy revealed that a coronary artery had burst, probably the result of over-exertion. The weakness must have been there all along, a ticking time bomb just waiting for someone to light the fuse.

Malcolm's will left modest sums to his wife and children, nowhere close to his true personal worth, but sufficiently large to withstand any possible court challenge. Antares, of course, inherited the bulk of Malcolm's net worth, and nobody was surprised when the Board of Directors appointed her to take Malcolm's place as CEO and Chairman. Still sporting her widow's veil, Antares Estes was now in control of one of the largest firms in the region.

From the comfort of the ergonomic chair in her private office, Antares placed a call to Desdemona Raventree. Antares wanted to thank her mentor. That bit she had taught Ann about inducing an aneurysm worked like a charm.

 

* * * * *

Jay snapped his laptop into its docking station and booted up. Jay had replaced the canned Windows bootup jingle with a bit of hip-hop, which now played on his station's speakers. His laptop synced up to the network and he opened Outlook to check his e-mail and Calendar. Unknown to Jay, the snooper program now sent out its little probe, a worm designed to gather information about Diana Hunter.

Unknown to the worm, Diana was waiting for it. Or, more precisely, a little program she called EarlyBird was waiting. It intercepted the worm and destroyed it. Now EarlyBird waited for the signal from Jay's laptop that he was shutting down for the day. Upon detection, EarlyBird would return a worm clone with disinformation. Whoever was bugging The Hunter Group's network would be getting bogus intelligence. As far as EarlyBird was concerned, Diana Hunter was tending to business in Europe and the Pacific Rim. With any luck, the unknown assassin would be diverting assets all over the globe.

Jay Kumar was blissfully unaware of any of this, or the fact that his movements were now being observed and scrutinized by America's most covert agency. He never noticed the black-clad women who observed his daily arrivals and departures, nor did he have any suspicion that his telephone conversations and his Internet activity was being monitored closely. As far as Jay was concerned, he was simply putting in another day at Hunter Geeks, getting paid to do something he loved while slurping up free soda. What a racket!

Quitting time! Jay saved his work and activated the shutdown procedure. The snooper signaled for the worm it had sent out. EarlyBird replied with its own worm. The snooper stored the data for retrieval and shut down, just one more process running in a Window session. Jay's laptop winked off and Jay removed it from the docking station. He slid the laptop into its case and headed for the door. Time to get home to some grub and some loving.

EarlyBird sent a message to Diana. She was also tracking Jay's activity, patiently gathering intelligence for her next move. She felt as though she were in a game of cat-and-mouse, silently stalking her prey.

 

* * * * *

JoEllen was also patiently gathering intelligence at The Academy.

Now that she was one of the elite group of Mistresses, her lot had improved tremendously, and so had her privileges. She no longer feared punishment, although she was aware of the governor still installed behind her ear. There was an unspoken camaraderie among the staff of The Academy. The Mistresses all knew that they would be part of the new ruling class, women who would wield absolute power, guided by the vision of Desdemona Raventree.

JoEllen's training to assume this power was three-fold. First, she trained as a soldier, learning to handle and operate all types of weapons under the most extreme of conditions. Secondly, she was trained in the world of business and finance, ready to seize the reins of the corporations or political entities she would eventually control. Finally, JoEllen was being groomed in the arts of beauty and seduction.

This was the most difficult part of her mission. JoEllen had been an abused captive as a teen, until the day when Diana and operatives of America's most covert agency staged a rescue. JoEllen was not happy with the changes that had been forced on her young male body and was quite surly when Diana offered to adopt her. But Diana gave JoEllen something she had never experienced before; love, a home, and a sense of belonging. JoEllen embraced these ideals and vowed that she would never permit herself to harm another in the way she had been. Now, her mission depended on her being the sort of cruel, calculating woman she abhorred.

Her latest lesson was a one-on-one session with her mentor, Desdemona Raventree. JoEllen took special pains with her preparations this evening, striking the right balance of raw sensuality and power. As she regarded herself in the full-length mirror, she pondered the incredible changes she had experienced.

This woman's body reflected in the mirror was hers. She accepted it, and had become comfortable with it. While going to college, JoEllen chose not to physically transition. She presented herself as female despite her male anatomy and became quite adept at feminine behavior. Nobody in college suspected her true gender. But while seeming to embrace her feminine nature, she remained reluctant to take the final step and physically transition. As long as she existed in that nebulous condition of androgyny, being neither completely male nor completely female, she retained the option of manhood. That option now seemed very remote.

She turned in front of the mirror, twirling the skirt of her little black dress. So simple a garment, she reflected, and yet so powerful. This bit of cloth, revealing and concealing at the same time, could drive a man wild if used correctly. Tonight, under the watchful eye of her mentor, she would do just that. Classroom instruction was over, now was the time for a field trip.

JoEllen had to admit that she really felt sexy as she walked down the corridor to Desdemona's office. Four-inch heels displayed her legs quite invitingly while simultaneously thrusting her breasts forward. As she walked, placing each step in front of the other, her hips swayed back and forth and her buttocks flexed. She had practiced this walk for over a month, and now could do it in her sleep.

Desdemona welcomed her new protege into her office. Her maid offered sherry on a serving platter and JoEllen accepted. She picked up the glass and sipped in a very ladylike and equally sensual manner.

"Tonight is the night, Jessica," said Desdemona. "Tonight you get to practice all I have taught you. Tonight, my dear girl, you get to break your first heart. Tonight you get to shatter some poor boy's ego into dust. Are you looking forward to it?"

JoEllen smiled, a wicked, sensuous smile that exuded power and showed no mercy. "Of course I am, Mistress Desdemona. What use is power if it is never used?"

Desdemona smiled back, proud of the vixen she would unleash on an unsuspecting world this evening. "You need not refer to me as 'Mistress,' Jessica dear, at least not tonight. For this evening I am simply Desdemona. Now let's do a little hunting."

Desdemona took the evening purse her maid had been holding. "Thank you, Candice. Please have my car meet us at the front door. Jessica and I shall be spending an evening in town."

"Yes, Mistress," the maid replied. She immediately went to a telephone.

"Now come along, Jessica, we have male egos to crush this evening." The two women giggled like schoolgirls going to their prom.

Desdemona's limousine deposited the two women at the entrance of an elegant supper club. Heads turned as the two very sexy women entered the lounge. Exuding raw sensuality, they took their seats at a table and ordered Cosmopolitans. At least, they looked like Cosmos. Despite their appearance, the drinks were little more than water and fruit juice. Alcoholic intoxication was not their goal.

It did not take long for two more drinks to arrive, courtesy of two "gentlemen" seated at the bar. Desdemona and JoEllen smiled at the men and raised their glasses in appreciation. Taking this as an invitation, the men came over and introduced themselves.

"Hello, ladies," said the taller fellow, my name is Mark Coleman and this is my friend Harry Pressley."

Desdemona extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Coleman. My name is Desdemona Marcus, and this is my friend, Jessica Green. Please join us."

"Don't mind if I do, Ms. Marcus." Mark and Harry sat down as Mark signaled for another round of drinks. The boys were drinking Kamikazes while the girls each had another virgin Cosmo.

A lot of small talk was exchanged as the men became more and more inebriated. They bragged about their work, their success in the business world, and just about everything that they thought might impress the stunning, sensual females they had been so fortunate to meet. At one point Desdemona removed a long, slim cigarette from a silver case and held it between two fingers. Mark nearly fell from his chair as he scrambled to light it. Desdemona took a very delicate puff and blew the smoke high into the air. She smiled and looked over at JoEllen, who now held a cigarette of her own. She waited as Harry produced a light and sensually drew in a delicate puff.

JoEllen did not inhale the smoke. The taste of it was repulsive. But she dared not break her cover. Desdemona had taught her young protege just how to smoke seductively, never inhaling, just taking a puff into her mouth and blowing it out. And just as Desdemona had told her, the effect on an unsuspecting male was devastating. She was playing Harry like a fish, giving him just enough line to set the hook and reel him in. For JoEllen, that fact was as repulsive as the smoke she was tasting.

It didn't take long for the men to be completely taken in by the seductive charm of these two sirens. At their suggestion, they left the lounge and went outside to go someplace a little more private. By this, the guys meant to take the ladies back to their rooms for an evening of carnal delight. They did not resist when the limousine picked them up, and did not resist when Desdemona suggested a drive and perhaps a few drinks. With their better judgment impaired by about a dozen Kamikazes apiece, the guys readily agreed.

JoEllen found herself in Harry's very clumsy arms, and did nothing to resist. He awkwardly pressed his lips to hers and jammed his tongue into her mouth. JoEllen felt his hands go under her clothing and roughly caress her breasts. He tried to grind his very erect manhood against her. And then, he slumped into a heap.

JoEllen unceremoniously dumped Harry onto the seat next to her. He was unconscious thanks to the combined effect of all the alcohol he had consumed and the Seconal that Desdemona had secretly added to his drink. Mark was also down for the count.

"Nicely done, Jessica," Desdemona said, praising her young protege. "How did it feel?"

"The power is like a narcotic," JoEllen answered. "It is so much more intoxicating than any drug. I felt powerful. I felt alive."

"You enjoyed having a helpless man in your web?" she said.

"Not nearly as much as I will enjoy breaking him," JoEllen said.

"My, but aren't we a vixen," said Desdemona. "Why would you want to do such a thing to somebody you just met?"

"He didn't seem to have any reservation about having his way with me," JoEllen answered. "The son of a bitch has it coming, and I'm just the gal to give it to him."

If Desdemona's wicked smile could possibly become more wicked, it did. "That's my girl. I knew you were a smart girl, Jessica. Oh, how the world of men will suffer at your feet."

She looked at the two men now unconscious in the limousine. "This one is yours, Jessica," said Desdemona, indicating Harry. "Take him and break him. Make him your personal maid. Make me proud."

The limousine drove back to the Academy grounds. The men would find themselves completely naked tomorrow, and helpless to resist the transdermal governor. They would join the latest group of students to be trained at the Academy. They would be given female names and reshaped as female servants. They would be forced to don the feminine undergarments and schoolgirl uniform of all first-year Academy students. The world would never miss the men they had been. An overworked police force would chalk it up to two missing persons who got drunk and seemed to disappear. They had probably wandered into the wrong part of town and met with foul play. After a few months they would be relegated to the cold case file while the police dealt with more urgent matters. What did they care if a couple of smart-ass college boys went missing?

 

(End of Part 3)

 

  

  

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