Student Bodies: Sex with the Grads

There is plenty more to be told about the graduates’ lives after their experiences with the Lazenbys. Sex under hypnosis had lasting impacts, as this chapter illustrates. I welcome your comments and ideas.

Characters from Good Old Lazenby, Ch. 01, and Student Bodies, Ch. 01 to 04:

* Old Lazenby: former Psychology Department Head, jailed heart attack victim

* The Professor: Lazenby’s wife, the hypnotist, in jail awaiting sentencing

* Sandra Weston: grad student hypnotized and sexually used by the professors

* Ben Weston: Sandie’s husband, a rookie policeman who broke the case open

* Martin Benning: Ben’s friend, grad student sexually used by the Lazenbys

* June Hendricks: alumnus and grad bursary donor, jailed and awaiting sentencing

Once a Toy… Always a Toy

A huge scandal had just rocked a prestigious New York university. Two married psychology professors- Gerard and Natalia Lazenby had been hypnotizing graduate students for sex with them and certain wealthy alumni.

The couple was arrested in a sting operation at their home as they prepared to sexually exploit students Sandie Weston and Martin Benning. The Lazenbys and alumni donors, the Hendricks, were found guilty of several serious sex crimes.

Major events like this can have lasting repercussions.

…. “What became of the Psychology Department? Not much changed except the bursary system. The department soldiered on under new leadership during the long investigation and trial. Students attended lectures and assistants marked tests. Graduate students researched papers, and some completed doctoral degrees. University life went on much as before…. [Student Bodies 4]

But what happened to the victims at the centre of the case? Their lives did NOT go on pretty much like before. Consider the serious obstacles which confronted them:

Could Sandie Weston ever return to the woman she was, after being used for months as a personal sex toy by the perpetrators? Or would she always be a toy?

Could her husband Ben ignore images of Old Lazenby at his attractive young wife? Would their once-healthy sex life and marriage withstand this extreme test?

Would Martin Benning be able to move on with his life after serving as an unwitting sex machine for two cougars? Would others find it easy to manipulate him too?

Would other graduate students, such as Melanie Rossignol, react to the Lazenbys’ manipulation through promiscuity? Would she come to influence other victims?

Their story opens in the University’s senate chamber, soon after guilty verdicts were delivered in the Lazenby and Hendricks court cases.

****

“You’ve all been following this trial. You know that the police have been here almost as often as the lawyers and forensic accountants. A nightmare! A goddam public relations nightmare!”

The President of the university was leading a closed meeting of the Board of Governors. They felt an urgency to prepare a press release quickly, now that the verdicts were public. The mountain of evidence against the defendants made it very unlikely that the rulings would be overturned.

“Yes, a nightmare! Our brand is so tainted now that this whole university is equated with perverse sex between professors and students,” said the Provost.

“And the Hendricks have ruined alumni relations!” another complained. “I was talking with some wealthy alumni recently. They are the butt of jokes and innuendo, ashamed to say they are our graduates.”

“What are we going to do about it? It’ll have to be good to clear up this mess,” added a third.

“I’ve asked a friend in the public relations business to offer some ideas,” the President stated. “They can tailor the right kind of statements to steer us through this whole problem.”

The President introduced Ms. Ann Arbuckle. Every eye in the room turned toward the woman who came to the lectern at the open end of the horseshoe-shaped table arrangement. Some hoped that she would have the magic dust to make this go away. Others were skeptical that an outsider could help.

She started slowly, recognizing that she was unknown among these educated community leaders. To establish credibility, Arbuckle identified some of the public relations disasters her company had handled over the years. Then she turned to the current crisis the university was facing.

“The most important thing here is support you show for the victims: Sandra Weston, Martin Benning, Sandra’s husband Ben Weston, of course, and all the other victims that you already know about. You must acknowledge how your two professors have affected their lives, and that you will make amends.”

“We all agree with you, I’m sure, Ms. Arbuckle. What do you suggest?” the President queried.

“Part of it must be from your Mission Statement. That the university aims to promote positive interaction of staff and students. But people want to know what exactly you plan to do. For example, Martin Benning was half-way through his doctorate and needed that bursary. You must offer him generous ‘no-strings’ support so he can finish.”

“I suppose that would apply to Sandra Weston and the others who are still at the university,” someone said.

“It’s even more important with Sandra Weston. She is every mature couple’s young adult daughter. They feel hurt and sorry for her, so generosity will speak well for you. But, helping all the victims financially with their studies is only the beginning.”

“What else must we do to recover our public image?” the Provost asked.

“Most victims will not just get up tomorrow and go back to school. Two of your professors have ruined their lives with their sick scheme. The students will need to be de-programmed, based on what I read of the trial. They’ll require extensive counselling and expensive therapy.”

“And it doesn’t end there,” she continued. “The Westons and other married couples will likely require marriage counselling. You must offer to get them the best people, and you must make it clear that you’ll pay, whatever it takes to make them whole again.”

“But that could be like a bottomless well. It could cost a small fortune! Could we even afford to make an offer like that?” someone complained.

“Can you afford NOT to?” Ms. Arbuckle replied firmly. “Your alumni feel tainted by this because June Hendricks was one of them. They must be part of a positive response to the problem. Your Alumni Affairs Department could organize a targeted funding campaign to pay for special bursaries, and all other support for the victims.”

“These are excellent suggestions, Ms. Arbuckle. Do we need any more initiatives at this point?” the President asked.

“Probably not yet. But this only addresses public perceptions. Lawyers for the victims may bring lawsuits. Two of your professors have abused a dozen of your students. I’ve only dealt with the tip of a potentially huge iceberg today. The quicker you can be seen making amends the better.”

“That is a huge worry,” said the President. “We’ll need the best lawyers to advise us.” Then he concluded, “I’m sure we can all agree with what you’ve outlined today. How soon can you and I meet to prepare a press release about this? I’ll give it top priority, I assure you.”

“Is tomorrow at 9:00 too soon? Good. I’ll need copies of your Mission Statement today, and any other pertinent documents about the University’s teacher-student policies.”

“Thank you, Ms. Arbuckle. Meeting adjourned!”

****

At the restaurant, Ben and Sandie Weston shared a bottle of wine to ease the tension after the long, grueling trial. One doesn’t really celebrate such things, but they had been out for dinner with Martin and his girlfriend, Chantal. Afterward at home, Ben opened a second bottle before bedtime.

This one was for courage. Ever since Sandie became aware of her sexual manipulation by the Lazenbys and June Hendricks, she had gone into a shell. She wouldn’t go to school, dropping her studies altogether. And, she stopped trusting people, now suspicious of everyone’s motives. Finally, she avoided any intimate contact with her husband.

Ben needed the alcohol too. There were problems with Sandie that sometimes seemed insurmountable. She was pushing him away, and at the same time, he couldn’t erase thoughts of Old Lazenby with his wife. Ben wanted her more than ever, but he couldn’t get over the anger he felt about the old bastard.

Ben poured each of them a full glass.

“Baby, I know this has been awful for you. Today the law spoke loud and clear. What they did was wrong.” There was no need to say names anymore.

“I know Ben. Sometimes I wonder if we can ever be like we were before.”

“I guess it’s like the terrible things that happen in a war. Can people just go on with their lives after? Or are they scarred forever?”

“But we have to try, don’t we Ben? I mean, it wasn’t our fault… my fault. I know that, but I still feel guilty. Those things they made me do for….”

“Let’s not talk about it, at least not tonight. Let’s try to pretend this is a night two years ago- before this happened. Remember how we’d drink wine and talk about good things?”

I’ll try…. Let’s get ready for bed, OK honey?” Sandie said softly.

Ben knew that Sandie was working to overcome what the Lazenbys and June Hendricks had burdened her with. He’d do everything he could tonight to get back some of those old feelings. When Sandie came back to the sofa a short time later wearing a pretty pink peignoir set, he knew his wife was making a real effort too.

“Baby, you look so good. I’ll bring the bottle and the glasses to the bedroom now.”

She smiled shyly at her husband and nodded.

Tonight, Ben was soft and slow with his wounded wife. He knew this had to be without a heated rush. Maybe that would come later if they could block out all the other hurt for a little while. They drank a second glass, not saying too much, both desperate to get their loving life back. Then their glasses were empty, and it was the moment of truth.

“Ready, baby? It has been so long…”

“Yes, I want it too, honey. Just go slow, OK?”

“Anything for you baby… anything.”

Ben spent a lot of time kissing Sandie’s lips while he held her tight. Soon she offered him tongue and he eagerly took it, returning eager kisses. He felt her hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer. Now Ben took a risk, reaching through her long outer gown to place his hand on her warm thigh. He waited, expecting her to move away, but she didn’t. Sandie was going to try tonight.

Ben’s wife kissed him passionately, murmuring endearments as she pressed her body tightly against his own. He could feel his erection stiffening, rubbing against her leg. He slid his hand up along her smooth thigh toward her treasure, and she didn’t resist.

“I’m getting hot, Ben. Help me out of this long gown.”

“Thought you’d never ask, baby. Straighten your arm. Now the other side. That’s it. So… where were we?”

“We were getting ready to do it.”

“Let’s not stop.”

By now Ben’s cock had escaped over the top of his boxers and Sandie took it in her hand. She grinned at her husband and gave it a few strokes.

“Somebody is ready.”

“Let’s see if you are…. Oh yes…. Ready?

Sandie rolled onto her back and spread her thighs. Ben could see that she was indeed ready. She had let her pubic hair grow back since the arrests, but otherwise she was everything Ben remembered so fondly. He knelt between her legs and slowly fed his stiff cock into her vagina. Both sighed loudly- after so many months, the pleasure was like the first time.

“Oh Ben, that feels so good. Do me nice and slow now, while we kiss,” she breathed.

It was a beautiful thing that night, as the damaged couple made love so tentatively; almost as if they were in a spell which could be broken at any moment. One bad memory of the Lazenbys or June Hendricks could bring this redeeming act of love crashing to Earth.

Ben gradually pressed deeper into his wife, as deep as he could go. And to his satisfaction, Sandie began to push back hard against him with each thrust. So, he picked up the pace and she fell right into rhythm, her lubricant flowing freely. Meanwhile, the couple continued kissing, their probing tongues exploring the inner recesses of their mouths.

“From behind now, baby?” Ben whispered, and they quickly moved to that position.

“I’m so warm, Ben. I need to take this off,” referring to the inner piece of the set.

Was that an invitation? Sandie could have done that herself, but Ben was eager to help because he hadn’t often seen her naked since the night of the police raid. She sat up and raised her arms so he could pull it over her head. There were her lovely breasts, nipples erect with desire. This was working out so well tonight.

Now Ben entered his wife from behind and began that familiar climb toward the peak. He held Sandie’s hips tightly, pulling himself forward as she pushed against him in reply. Both were breathing hard and beginning to perspire heavily. Sandie was starting to moan softly with satisfaction. This was all good, and Ben could feel himself readying for the final drive to the top.

“Oh fuck Sandie…. I’m nearly there…. How ’bout you?… Ugh!… Ugh!….”

“No…. Not yet…. Go ahead if you’re ready….”

“Can’t stop…. Gotta come…. Ugh!… Ugh!…. Ugh!…. Uggghhh!…. Oh yeah!!!”

Ben came fast, blasting cum deep into his wife. She continued to move with him until he came back to Earth again. Then he lay down beside her.

“Baby, you didn’t come, did you?” he mumbled.

“No, I couldn’t get there this time,” she complained.

“Can I help you with that now?”

“No, I don’t think that I can do it tonight. Too many bad feelings, I guess.”

Afterward, they lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, not talking. Both wondered the same thing: was this just something that happened tonight? Or did they have a more serious problem now? Neither of them knew.

****

The press interview with the University President was the first time the Westons learned about what was coming their way. It was both a shock and a pleasant surprise:

“We care deeply about our students here at the University,” the story read. “Our mandate is to ensure healthy, positive relationships in our academic family, especially between staff and students. That didn’t happen with two of our former professors and some of our alumni. We sincerely apologize, and will do everything we can to make things right. We are taking immediate steps to do that.”

The news story continued, explaining the bursaries made available to all the victims to complete their programs. There was even an open offer to spouses, like Ben Weston and others, to complete a new university degree free-of-charge. Further, the university had prepared a list of professional counsellors on staff and in the community, offering their paid services, “for as long as it takes to make things right.”

Meanwhile, the President had met with the Alumni Affairs Department to launch a funding campaign. Judging by the press release, the initial response was enthusiastic, “because our former graduates are concerned about this professional abuse, and determined to do all they can to better the lives of those so adversely affected.”

It was a public relations masterpiece, a fine bit of rhetoric engineered by real professionals. The question was whether or not it would serve its two main purposes: to polish the university’s badly tarnished reputation, and to head off potential lawsuits from the victims. There was a third objective too: to heal the victims.

The following week, all the Lazenby recruits- and there were a dozen of them plus some spouses- began to meet with their professionals. Sandie had three: a personal therapist, a marital counsellor for the two of them, and a de-programmer to help her ‘un-learn’ her lessons in Neuro-Linguistic Programming- NLP.

Marty was assigned three as well: a therapist, de-programmer, and academic counsellor, since he had decided to return to school.

In every case, the university matched professional to victim based on gender. For example, Sandie was given a younger female therapist, like herself, to avoid any link to a man like Old Lazenby or an older woman like The Professor. The Westons’ marital counsellor was a younger female too. Marty was assigned only male professionals.

The first meeting between Sandie and her personal therapist was rather awkward. Nicholette Greatash was a cute red-head, single and close to her client in age.

Sandie was a different person after spending so much time in bed hypnotized with Natalia and June Hendricks. She could not deny her attraction to the same sex now. She found her therapist quite appealing physically and frequently had her eyes on the woman, appreciating her facial features and the shape of her body. Sharon was making Nicolette a bit nervous.

“Sandra, we have a lot of work to do together to make your life whole again. Let’s start by telling me in general terms how you are feeling right now.”

“Doctor, things have been better, of course….”

“Please, call me Nikki. I’d like this to be professional, but very personal too. I want you to be able to tell me anything… everything. That’s the only way that we’ll make progress.”

“OK, Nikki, my life is different now. I feel guilty because my husband warned me about them and I didn’t listen… I wouldn’t listen because I trusted them. And I feel shame because… well, dammit… the whole world knows in detail what happened to me- what I did for them under hypnosis.”

“And now, you probably find it hard to trust at all, because they were people you looked up to, right?”

“Exactly. I mean it will even take me some time to trust you, Nikki.”

“I’m on your side, Sandie. Believe me. I want to help. So… tell me what you’re thinking about me right now. Suspicious? Uneasy? Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything. You must be perfectly honest and frank with me if our time together is going to work.”

“Anything… well, OK… I’m finding you very attractive and I’m thinking about what you look like under that white lab coat.”

Nikki tried to remain cool, even though it surprised her.

“I know you’re testing me… just trying to shock me. You’re attractive too Sandie, but that doesn’t change our doctor-client relationship. I’m here to help you be better again, nothing more.”

“Doctor… Nikki, about what I just said about you. Do you think it has anything to do with… with being so intimate with those two women under hypnosis? I would never have looked at you that way before.”

“Very likely, yes. Your experiences have changed you, but we must maintain a professional relationship.”

“I agree. It’s just that you told me to be honest. Since my sexual experiences with them, I wonder if I’ve become bisexual. Is that even possible?”

“These experiences may have brought out parts of you that were either hidden or under control before. Let’s talk about that, since you asked. Had you any such thoughts or happenings before the hypnosis?”

“Not really,” but Sandie said it hesitantly.

“You don’t sound so sure, Think about it for a few minutes while I review some relevant details of your case.”

It was quiet in the room while Sandie decided whether or not to tell the therapist.

“OK, yes there were some things. My female college room-mate and I sometimes used to play together when we smoked up or drank too much. Nothing regular, but we sometimes got ourselves off while the other watched. Now and then, we helped each other.”

“And, if you don’t mind me asking, was it orally or digitally?”

“Actually, both. It depended how high we were at the time. My room-mate liked oral a lot.”

“Oh, I see,” Nikki replied coolly, continuing, “and do I remind you of your room-mate at all?”

“In some ways, yes. So that’s probably where my attraction to you is coming from.”

“Yes, being hypnotized by Natalia Lazenby has very likely brought back old impulses.”

“And now I find myself thinking about having sex with you, Doctor…. Is there any hope for me?”

“Sandie, bisexuality isn’t wrong. It is part of diversity, how people are all different. What is wrong would be coming on to your therapist, just like it would be wrong for a male client. Accept that you may be bisexual, but keep it within appropriate limits. Know what I mean?”

“Yes Nikki. I’ll try harder to control such impulses with you,” though Sandie knew she didn’t really mean it. “Maybe we can talk about it next week, if you think it would be useful, Doctor?”

“We will. In fact, that was a useful finding today. I’d like to pursue whether or not bisexuality is responsible for some of this guilt you say you’re feeling. Next week. Same time. Same place.”

On her way out the door, Sandie turned back to see her therapist bending over to file her case folder.

“Nikki Greatash. Yes, definitely a great ass.” Sandie thought, smiling to herself.

****

“What do you think about all these counsellors, Marty?” Sandie asked as they sipped their lattes at the coffee shop close to the campus. It was the nearest Sandie had been to the university in a long time.

“I don’t know, Sandie. I mean, I sure would like to finish my doctorate, but I don’t think I could continue with my existing thesis topic, Neuro-Linguistic Programming. From a victim’s point-of-view, I would never have believed how powerful it can be.”

“Absolutely. We didn’t even know it. That expert our lawyers put on the stand really opened my eyes. We were duped so badly, even though we were studying such things ourselves. I still feel ashamed and embarrassed about it.”

“Me too. But you know, having experienced it might give me an angle on NLP that nobody else could write about. I could retrace my own path being taken in by it. What do you think, Sandie?”

“That’s OK if you’re willing to relive the whole thing. I don’t think I could. I want to just try to forget about it, and move on with my life.”

“I don’t know if you can do that. Are you going to get one of those academic counsellors that the university is offering? They could advise you about whether to forget about it or face it head on. I’m going to try the second way myself.”

“That’s pretty brave, Marty. I hope it works for you.”

When she said this, Sandie looked straight into Marty’s face very intently, and found herself reaching her hand across the table to take his. She squeezed it gently, then held on a bit longer before pulling away. All the while she looked into his eyes, never breaking contact.

He gave her a strange look, as if to ask, “What was that all about?”

“Sorry Marty. I don’t why I did that. It… it just happened all by itself. I don’t know why I took your hand like that…”

“It’s OK, Sandie. It’s OK. You and I have been through a lot. Not together, but the same kind of things. Knowing that, there’s something between us, a shared kind of experience. You know… we sort of understand how the other is feeling. We’re closer now.”

“Yes. I guess I need to talk this through after all. I probably can’t just bury it, and hope all the bad feeling will go away by itself.”

Then she spontaneously reached out and took his hand again, squeezing harder with a sense of quiet desperation, while gazing into his eyes.

“I think we have to help each other through this, Sandie. Maybe we need to get deep down into our feelings about everything?” Marty said earnestly.

“Yes, you’re so right. Probably shouldn’t do it here, though. Too personal, don’t you think?”

“Yes…. Would you like to come over to my place? Now that we’re already starting to see the need to talk over our experiences.”

Marty was surprised that he made this offer. Words just seemed to come out of his mouth without thinking it through. It was like a compulsion, beyond his control. Sandie smiled at him.

“I think that would be a good idea, Marty. I took the bus today. Do you have your car? Good. Let’s go then, because we need to talk.”

As they drove toward Marty’s apartment, Sandie had the strangest feeling that this might be more than just talking. But how could it be wrong to talk over something both had been through and were now trying hard to put behind them? Why shouldn’t they share their feelings on the road to healing? What could possibly go wrong?

A half hour later, Sandie was already naked in Marty’s bed, her arms wrapped around him tightly and her lips pressed against his. It had happened in a sudden rush, where they literally tore the clothes off, and jumped onto his bed.

They didn’t understand it, but they were kindred souls now, driven by the same erotic desires planted and nurtured by The Professor. A big part inside each of them was a highly sexual being, operating on the most primal of instincts. That strong, programmed desire for sex obviously hadn’t gone away during these past months.

“Fuck Sandie! I could never have imagined you have such a great body. Your tits, those pointy nipples, your arse…. You really are one gorgeous woman!”

“Marty, where have you been hiding that monster cock? I never knew! Now I’ve got to have it.. Come here!”

They both knew what was coming next because they were on auto-pilot now. Marty could feel his cock straining, ready to fuck anything in sight. Sandie’s vagina was running like a tap, seeping with juices to make sex comfortable with the nearest cock. She lay back naked and pulled her husband’s best friend toward her with one simple command.

“Fuck me Marty. Fuck me now. I need this so much! Do it!”

“I’m the same way. Since you looked at me like that at the coffee shop. Here!” and he eased his fat rod into her wet pussy. “Oh my god, you feel good, Sandie. This is like a dream!”

“You fill me up Marty! It’s so good! Just fuck me, and don’t stop.”

What followed was the stuff of porn videos: all sex, no love. Ironically, the two of them willingly enacted a wild performance together every bit as hot as the sex show which the Lazenbys had planned for the Hendricks under hypnosis.

They spent almost an hour in bed, all of it with Marty inside either Sandie’s pussy or her mouth. He fucked her in the missionary position, from each side, doggy style, and then turned her over, flat on her stomach, spread wide. It was as if his cock was on steroids! Her pussy felt great to him every which way!

And, she gave as much as she got. When Marty pounded into her, slapping his groin against her ass, Sandie pushed back just as hard with each stroke. She matched him moan for groan as they worked over each other’s bodies in a purely physical sex marathon. Sandie couldn’t get enough of this stimulating bedroom action. Sweat poured from both of them.

When Marty’s big prick wasn’t sunk deep in Sandie’s spread vagina, it was either being sucked about the head, licked on the sensitive underside, or buried deep in her throat. She kissed down the full length of his big member on the way to his balls and back. Much of the time she gripped Marty’s engorged organ tightly and stroked its full length. He was in cock heaven.

And Marty applied what he had learned from June Hendricks and The Professor to Sandie’s juicy pussy. He spread her wide, with a cushion under her ass to lift up her pink flesh for maximum access. Then he licked and kissed and sucked her delicate folds, exploring every bit of her with his practiced mouth and fingertips. Sandie strained to open wider as he skillfully devoured her private flesh.

Sandie writhed with pleasure with Marty’s onslaught, moaning every bit as much as she had during her many sessions under hypnosis. She needed to come so badly that she ground Marty’s face hard into her wet pussy, demanding:

“Eat my pussy!…. Yes…. Yes…. Like that, like that…. Don’t stop…. I need to come…. Make me…. Make me come…. Make me… Ugh!…. Ugh!…. Ugh!… Ugh!…. Ohh! Ohh!…Aaaagghhhh!!!!”

Then Sandie erupted in an explosive orgasm, all over Marty’s buried face. Her stomach muscles grabbed and her body shook, but she would not stop pressing on the back of his head until the tension had all been released. Then he sputtered and came up for air, soaked with her juices.

“Oh fuck Sandie! What an orgasm! My god, you came so hard!” Marty spluttered.

She didn’t reply, still trying to catch her breath after totally losing control for a little while. Then she stared into his eyes again, and he felt the connection that had just been forged between them. They understood what had just happened. They knew now that Natalia had made them into different people. He met her gaze and finally spoke.

“We both needed that. This whole business has damaged us, and we’ll need to help each other crawl back out of it.”

“But my Ben must never know,” Sandie worried. “He’s already been hurt enough. He’s trying so hard, but… but… that’s the first time I’ve been able to come since the night of the police raid. You brought out of me what he hasn’t been able to do yet. It felt amazing to orgasm like that again, but he mustn’t know.”

“It’s a secret. I promise, but next time it’s my turn. You have my number. Call or text me if you ever want to…to… talk again like we just did, OK?”

“I will, Marty. I know I will. Now I better get going home. Could you drop me off about a block away from my apartment?”

****

Ben and Sandie Weston had another appointment half a week later with their assigned marital counsellor. Going into it, Sandie was carrying a new mental burden- guilt from her intense sexual trysts with Ben’s friend Marty, twice in the past few days. She was determined to say nothing about it, especially since deep inside she was eager to do it again.

Mariam Jones was a tall, slim woman who looked like an Olympic sprinter, athletic and muscular, without an once of extra weight. Ben was drawn by her sparkling eyes and the Caribbean lilt in her voice. Sandie felt a bit embarrassed by how actively her husband engaged with Mariam in discussion.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weston, how has this situation affected your marriage? Each give me the first adjective that comes to your mind. First Sandie. Begin.”

“Tense.”

“Ben.”

“Difficult”

“Another one. Ben, then Sandie. How has this affected your marriage?”

“Different”, “Worse”

“Some more. Sandie, then Ben. Affect on your marriage?”

“Guilt”, “Anger”

“Again. Ben first.”

“Sorry”, “Unhappy”

“One more time to reach ten. Sandie first this time.”

“Agitated”, “Resigned”

Mariam had been recording these words so she could work with them.

“Sandie, you used some emotionally strong words in your five: ‘unhappy’, ‘agitated’, ‘tense’. If you put them together, what one thing in your marriage is responsible for them?”

“Hmm… OK… our sex life. Ben tries hard, but it’s just not the same.”

“Obviously not as good as before, because you said ‘worse’. Is that right?”

Sandie nodded agreement.

“And Ben, why do you think Sandie is unhappy with sex in your marriage now?”

“Well, it’s like the Lazenbys are in bed with us now. It’s hard to be intimate with thoughts of what they did to her. I try, but… well, I’ll say it. She doesn’t have orgasms anymore. That’s not like her.”

“And you? Or are you two having much sex at all?”

“Yes, but only if I make a real effort not to think about what happened.”

“Fair enough. Is that what’s behind some of your words, like ‘difficult’, ‘different’, and ‘resigned’?

“Yes, pretty much.”

“Do you both feel that sex is the major issue causing problems in your marriage because of the sexual abuse?”

The pair looked at one another sadly, then turned to Mariam and nodded agreement. Sandie was going to go along with this because there was no way she would mention the orgasmic sex she was having with Marty. Both times she had gone to his apartment, they had literally fucked each other’s brains out before massive orgasms. Neither of them was about to stop.

“Do you think it would be useful if I brought in a sex therapist, Sandie? Someone who could help you orgasm again.”

“No, I don’t need that!” she bristled. “I just need some time. Ben is trying and I love him for it. As long as he is willing to be patient and go slowly, I’m sure things will work out well in the end.”

“OK, just an idea. Now, about the other words you used, Sandie. ‘Guilt’: what’s behind that choice?”

“That’s easy. Ben warned me and I didn’t listen. Look what happened.”

“And Ben, you said ‘anger’. Why?”

“Mostly a hatred for Old Lazenby. Thinking of him at my wife makes me want to kill. I hope the rotten bastard dies in a miserable state!”

“That’s strong anger, Ben. We’re going to have to deal with it, otherwise, it can creep out and be very destructive to your marriage.”

“Yeah, I need anger management on that one, Doc.”

“Please, it’s always Mariam. Think of me as a professional friend, eager to help. Further to what you said Ben, I think the two of us should meet separately on the anger issues right away. Would that be satisfactory to both of you?”

Ben nodded enthusiastically and Sandie noticed. All she said was “OK.”

“Good. Next week at this time, just Ben. Sandie, you get a week off and then after that the two of us will meet separate from Ben to deal with your guilt feelings. OK?”

****

Sandie was having sex with two men now, her husband and Marty. It was a very strange situation: one was for love, the other for orgasm. But Sandie and Marty had been through some very strange times while hypnotized by Natalia Lazenby.

Perhaps the most unusual thing of all was how Sandie herself now seemed able to take control of her two lovers.

It started with that discussion over lattes with Marty. She had stared into his eyes and put her hand over his. Next thing, he was inviting her to his apartment, and in no time, they were fucking.

Strange things were happening with Ben too. Recently, she had stared him in the eye and affectionately stroked his arm. Next thing, he was asking what he could do to help her, promptly cooking supper, then cleaning the apartment. Such interest in household tasks was rare with Ben.

Was there some explanation? Sandie began to wonder if somewhere in all the hypnosis which she had undergone there might have been a transfer. Different means of control had been applied to her so often by Natalia. Perhaps she had gained some intuitive understanding of how to use it herself?

How else could the impact of her penetrating gaze combined with a loving touch on Ben and Marty be explained? It occurred to Sandie that she could apply it to Dr. Nikki Greatash, perhaps at her next therapy session? It would be interesting to see if she could subjugate the therapist and take some liberties with her.

Sandie soon met her third professional, a stern de-programmer named Mrs. Rubins. Her sessions didn’t require individual counselling like the others. This older, no-nonsense expert met with the seven females, while her husband met separately with the five male victims. Both used small group learning to help their clients gain insight into NLP, Neuro-Linguistic Programming, Natalia’s favourite control method.

Sandie met the six other women who had been used by the Lazenby’s and alumni. As each one told her story, there were several common threads: all of them were attractive blondes, ranging from petite to tall, and slim to voluptuous. Most of them were relatively soft-spoken and reserved. Natalia seems to have generally preferred the somewhat submissive type, easy to hypnotize.

Sandie recalled hearing the same trial testimony over and over again. Most had been photographed nude in The Professor’s little photo studio. These were the women and the couples whose lurid black-and -white erotic photos had decorated Natalia’s home office. And every one of the women was featured in sexual photos with Old Lazenby, found hidden in his home office files.

What Sandie really wanted to know was how their world had turned out afterward. Did they live fairly normal lives now, or had they been changed too much by their experiences to do so? Had their marriages held together, or were they now divorced?

And, did they continue to crave the kind of rampant sex and crushing orgasms which they had been having while under hypnosis? That was certainly what kept happening with her and Marty, by now up to three wild afternoon visits and counting.

Finally, had repeated sex with other women awakened strong lesbian feelings in them, like she was already experiencing with her therapist Dr. Nikki Greatash? Sandie would soon get answers to these questions from one of the de-programming participants.

Mrs. Rubins’ sessions were interactive. She had students describe the words or actions which Natalia had used to slowly program them for control. Sandie explained how The Professor had taken her shopping and then steered her toward clothing choices with compliments. She’d directed Sandie to buy very provocative things- short and sheer, tight and tits- then flattered her when she dressed in the new clothing for private meetings at her home office.

It proved to be a common experience, and Mrs. Rubins used negative conditioning to extinguish such clothing choices. She invited women in the group to bring these items to the next meeting, if they still had them. Some did. Then she had the women model their provocative outfits for the little group.

Sandie felt very self-conscious in her very short skirt and sheer blouse over skimpy underwear. Others wore equally revealing things. The de-programmer then led the group in shrill criticism- painful negative reinforcement.

“My god, that looks terrible on you! Makes you look like a little slut!” Mrs. Rubins would comment aloud. Then she’d say, “What do the rest of you think about those slutty clothes?” and the others would pile on.

Who said deprogramming was easy to endure? But that was one way to erase any residual positive feelings about wearing such clothing left by NLP.

At the de-programming group Sandie befriended another young woman much like herself. Melanie Rossignol was married too, and had managed to keep it together in the three years since she was abused by the Lazenbys and some alumni.

They began to meet for coffee to talk through what they remembered about their ordeal and how it had affected them. Two significant things emerged as their trust and friendship grew.

For one thing, Melanie had remained close with the young man who was recruited by the Lazenbys at the same time. Sandie had seen erotic photos hanging in the Professor’s office of them having intercourse. She admitted to Sandie that there was a strong bond between them three years afterward, and that they still secretly met for intense sexual encounters whenever his job brought him to the city.

Sandie shared her developing sexual connection with Marty, telling Melanie that she had a strong urge to fuck him. Furthermore, it was only these liaisons that delivered powerful orgasms like she evidently had enjoyed under hypnosis. Melanie agreed that only her fellow victim could make her come passionately, something her husband was no longer able to do.

The other surprising thing Melanie revealed was her attraction to other women, even though she had no such experiences before. Furthermore, she found herself quite promiscuous about her newfound lesbianism. Eventually she had admitted it to her husband, and since then they enjoyed occasional threesomes with her current female friends. Sandie wondered if Ben would like such an experience.

****

One Saturday, when Ben was away for a training course, Sandie invited Melanie to come to her apartment “for tea and conversation.” She hoped it might be more than that because she found the woman very appealing and like her, Sandie seemed to be emerging as promiscuously bi.