Chapter 20: The Brave New World

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window and the chirping of birds heralded another beautiful mid-September morning. There was a slight chill in the air as summer gave way grudgingly to fall. But it was not the sun, the birds, nor the temperature that caused Gregg to wake with a start. No, the nightmares had begun again.

Through his morning mental fog, he remembered vaguely from the previous night that his dream journal was missing off Heather's nightstand. Turning to his right, the half of the bed occupied just last night by Emily was empty. She didn't have Friday classes, so the hyper-kinetic nursing student was undoubtedly off on her morning jog. Gregg marveled for a moment at the girl's dedication to physical fitness, working out at least once- often twice a day. Gregg never liked working out, and was thankful his power-sculpted physique required no maintenance on his part.

This night's dream was typical of most dreams he'd had since he'd awoken with his powers. This time he was dashing colonel in the Confederate army during the U.S. Civil War. He'd risen in the ranks, despite having lost his left arm near the start of the campaign. It was another close call with a union bayonet that had landed him in the occupied plantation manor amidst the screams of the wounded and the dying. Because of his rank, he was afforded what few others were allowed amidst the chaos of war — a room upstairs and a curtain around his bed. Compared to the foot soldiers laid out nearly cheek-to-jowl below, the wounded officers' rooms were practically luxurious.

Gregg, the unwitting observer through this distinguished gentleman's eyes, watched amusedly as the near-formulaic series of events unfolded: gorgeous nurse with red hair and green eyes enters; unexplainable lusts lead to the abandonment of southern gentility; the southern belle's virginity is happily lost minutes later to her one-armed hero.

The happy couple were still basking in the warm afterglow of their coupling when the colonel stuck his pinky in his hear, shaking it back and forth, wondering why he was hearing a high-pitched whistling sound. A second later, but a second too late, he realized the whistling wasn't coming from inside his head and he tried to roll over and protect his new-found love. But the house, the colonel, the nurse, and the soldiers below perished in the bloody aftermath of an errant cannonball hitting a powder magazine someone thought would be safely hidden beside the impromptu hospital...

The details of the dream were quickly evaporating from his mind, but as nightmares go, Gregg had to chuckle. At least this one was thankfully short and perhaps even a bit comical. He never even learned his counterpart's name.

He checked the time and cursed. He'd forgotten to set the alarm last night — that was something that Heather usually did. Now it was already 8:15am and if he rushed, he'd make it to his office with just a few minutes to gather his things before his 9am freshman seminar. Behind the clock lay his dream journal, the one he was sure was missing only hours before. Well, there was no time to dwell on the how or the why — he had to get showered and dressed.

Gregg emerged onto the 4th floor landing of the History building where his office was located. Charli sat against his office door staring intently at the notebook computer in her lap, her headphones covering her ears. She didn't even notice Gregg until he was standing practically on top of her. When she looked up, she blushed so fiercely, Gregg was sure she was morphing into a beet. "Jesus, Gregg," she gasped, but stared up at him for an extra long moment before getting out of his way. Charli quickly closed up her laptop and stowed it inside her backpack. She entered Gregg's office and sat at the small table in the corner. She was still blushing and seemed very fidgety.

He wished he had time to talk with her, but he was running late. While he tried for the second time that morning to tie his tie so the front was longer than the back, he asked, "What brings you here so early? I figured maybe you'd prefer to sleep in ... given last night's ... uh ... activities."

Charli blushed again, but it wasn't due to her reminisces of the revenge she got to inflict upon Brittany, nor her memorable self-discovery at the Black Box. When Gregg spoke, she realized she'd gotten caught staring ... and not into his eyes...

Last night was certainly an emotionally draining evening. And yet she awoke early this morning, truly excited to face the day. "I couldn't sleep. Last night gave me a lot to think about. So, I thought I'd come by and get a jump start on my work ... but I couldn't get into the archives."

Gregg was happy Charli felt strong enough to get back to work. He wouldn't have blamed her if she decided to take another day off. For that matter, he was also glad Laura wasn't there waiting either..."Where's Chad? I know I'm late but I figured he'd be here to let you in. He's got a key."

Charli looked a bit uncomfortable and just shrugged her shoulders, again her eyes lingering on the soft bulge in Gregg's pants. Shaking her head to clear it, she again forced herself to look him in the eye. "I didn't tell him what happened last night ... about Brittany or the decision I made. I'm still processing it all and don't think I can explain it to him ... I barely understand it myself. He cares a lot for me, I know ... but it frustrates him that he can't help me. That's probably why you're not on his favorite persons list right now."

Gregg paused in tying his tie for a third time to stare sympathetically at Charli. "Yeah, I guess he still blames me for everything that happened to you ... I don't think he's wrong to feel that way."

Charli's hands wrung in her lap and her long raven hair threatened to cascade in front of her eyes. It was a testament to her new-found strength that she intercepted it and quickly tucked it again behind her ear, refusing to hide her porcelain-hued face. Standing, she approached Gregg and freed him from his tie-tying debacle. Gregg looked down at her and marveled at just how beautiful Charli was. Just weeks before one would never know the diamond in the rough given her death-metal façade and curtain of oily-black hair covering her face. But her new-found friends had shown her just how beautiful she was and she was no longer afraid to show it.

"Men..." she sighed mostly to herself. "Heather was right about you ... about both of you. I talked with her briefly this morning out in the quad. She said you'd carry your guilt around like a torch and that Chad was no different. You helped me a great deal last night ... really. But what both of you seem to forget is that ultimately, I made the decision to go to that party myself. Sure, if you and I hadn't become friends and if Chad and I hadn't ... well, you know ... I never would have had the confidence to go to the Omega Xi house, much less talk with someone from their crowd. Yeah, what happened to me might never have happened ... but on the other hand, I'd still be that mousy little push-over hiding in the corner." Charli cinched up the tie, maybe a little too tightly as she angrily quashed the idea of ever being mousy again.

Charli returned to her seat and looked down at her feet again, lost in thought. Gregg could tell her rationalization was her new shield. Her averted gaze and trembling hands gave away the truth of the horror she still felt at the memory of her humiliation ... of the knowledge that her new friend, Laura, was raped trying to come to her rescue. Gregg was sure Charli was feeling the same guilt over what happened to Laura as he was over what happened to Charli.

"Am I correct in guessing then, that you still don't want to come to class this morning?"

Charli didn't really need to answer, her body language said everything. "No ... I'd rather not. Chad promised to go over today's class notes with me later this morning. Speaking of which, you should probably get to your class or you'll be late." Gregg still had a couple of minutes, but clearly Charli didn't really want to talk anymore.

Gregg detached a key from his key ring. "Here. This is my key to the archive downstairs. Take whatever you need."

Again, Charli had to pull her gaze up from his crotch which seemed to be acting like a magnet for her eyes. Gregg was amused. He knew she looked up to him like a hero (as little as he felt he deserved it given what had happened), but she'd never been so brazen in her lust.

"Thanks, but ... I ... I think I'm just going to go back to the HQ and do homework. I don't think I can focus on ... on ... this today..."

Hearing his apartment still referred to as "HQ" despite their being done with their impromptu business proposal to save the dig site made Gregg smile. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Charli stood and hugged herself against Gregg. Immediately his arms encircled her body and held her close. "I'm worried about Laura ... I know she's done some pretty bad things, but she didn't deserve what happened to her ... and I can't help but feel it was all my fault. If I hadn't become her friend ... She slept last night again at the HQ. I don't think she's been back to the sorority house for more a change of clothes since ... since ... well, I think that's another thing that's getting Chad upset. They seem to have some history, but he won't talk about it. When I brought it up with her she just started crying."

Gregg held her tighter and gently stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'll think of something."

Charli responded by hugging back tighter yet, and Gregg wasn't sure, but he thought he felt her grinding against him a little with her hips. Lifting her head and standing on tip-toes, she surprised Gregg with a searing kiss that was equal in intensity as the one they shared the night she lost her virginity to Chad.

"What was that for?" he asked somewhat surprised and breathless.

Stepping free from his embrace, Charli quickly hitched her backpack over one shoulder. "That was from Emily. She stopped by your apartment on her morning jog to drop off a disk she said I had to watch." Again her eyes dropped momentarily toward Gregg's crotch before she headed out the door. From the outside his office her final words echoed in the stairwell, "She was right!"

It took Gregg a few more seconds before he put two and two together ... Em had given Charli a copy of the blackmail marathon-fuck video they'd made of him and Brittany. That's what she was watching on her computer outside his office.

Gregg looked up at the clock on his wall. 'Shit! I'll have to run... '

The freshman seminar was a bit of a surreal affair. He'd run to class (no easy task with his expanding dick against his slacks) and by the time he'd arrived, he was red-faced and a bit sweaty. The females in the classroom didn't seem to mind, especially those that saw his somewhat diminished, but no-less-remarkable, buldge. In his embarrassment and exhaustion, he'd let his mental guard down and he could pick up on some of the errant thoughts streaming from the women in class: they were racy enough to make a porn star blush!

Chad was already at the corner table correcting the homework that was assigned on Wednesday. He didn't even look up so say hello.

It was no surprise that neither Charli nor Laura weren't there. That he was genuinely worried about Laura was an indication of how much she'd come to mean to him in his mind. The first time they'd met, she was teasing Charli ... just another holier-than-thou Omega Xi who thought she had the right to walk over everybody else. The lesson he taught her that day was the first step in her eventual transformation ... a transformation that got her raped because she tried to do the right thing.

And there, in the back row of class was the cause of Laura's and Charli's recent torments: Brittany Anderson.

It was difficult not to smile wickedly at her as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat — her soft padded jacket serving as an make-shift pillow to ease her bruised bottom. When Gregg arranged last night's event, he had no idea of the rage that had built up inside Charli, a rage that was unleashed in a tidal fury against Brittany's backside. And still, despite everything that had happened in the last few days, Brittany never tied her blackmail and beating to what she did to Charli or Laura. Truth be told, she probably was unaware that Laura was raped. She just sent those goons to get Laura out of her way. Still, Brittany was the one who set all the unfortunately events in motion. It digusted Gregg to know that Brittany truly was detached from the horrible things she did. Thus it fell to him to help her see the light, so to speak.

By the time class ended, Chad was already gone. The student assignments were neatly laid out across the table with scores and comments hastily written across them. As students filed past him at the lectern, more than one girl gave him her best flirtatious smile. Gregg was mostly oblivious to their advances — he was seeking out one student in particular. "Miss Anderson? A word please?" More than one hopeful smile soured into jealousy at that moment.

Brittany broke away from the line ... not that she'd done the homework anyway. Gregg's command that she attend all classes and have exemplary attendance was given after Wednesday's class. If it weren't for that mental push, Gregg was sure there'd be no way she would have been seen in public today. However, in true Omega Xi fashion, if she had to be seen in public, she looked her best. Her makeup was flawless and her tight knit pink sweater showed off her assets. And befitting her title as president of the campus's most elite sorority, she seemed taller than any woman around ... despite her barely 5-foot frame. Her blondish curls were perfectly set and she looked ready for a night on the town or a fashion shoot ... she expected no less of herself nor from any of her OX sisters. The only indication that she was in a less-than-perfect state was the gingerness in her stride. Clearly the tight capris she was wearing were rubbing uncomfortably against her tender backside.

Once the last student filed out from the classroom, Gregg addressed her. "Thank you for showing up to class this morning. I honestly didn't know if I'd see you today." Gregg smiled at his lie ... he knew that only death itself would keep her away given the severity of his mental commands. His polite demeanor infuriated Brittany, but she had the good sense not to say anything. "Let me see your notes, Miss Anderson."

Brittany stared defiantly at Gregg. "I didn't take any notes. I'll photocopy them from someone later." Gregg already knew that "someone" was Natalie, Laura's charge in the sorority hierarchy. Natalie was another who had some learning to do ... but that would have to wait.

"That is unacceptable Miss Anderson. You will come to my office hour this afternoon and you will copy the PowerPoint I worked so hard to create for your benefit by hand. And starting next week, you will present your notes to me everyday after class."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Why?" Gregg was still amazed at her complete lack of shame. "To make you a better student, that's why..." Gregg cued up something on the computer in front of him. Brittany could see what he was doing on the large screen behind him where the day's lecture presentation was just moments before. To her horror, the eight-foot screen filled with the image of her sweaty face, her mouth open wide, eagerly awaiting the massive dollop of semen that was dripping from some unknown woman's lips at the top of the picture. There was no mistaking that it was her. There was no mistaking what she was doing. There was no mistaking the eagerness of her action. And there was no mistaking the trouble she'd be in if anyone saw those pictures.

Gregg only had the picture up for a few seconds. When he closed it, Brittany quickly looked around making sure no one had seen it. There was a panicked fury behind her eyes when she again met his gaze. " ... and if being a better student wasn't motivation enough..." Gregg left the remainder of his threat unsaid. "I'll see you this afternoon."

With that, Gregg logged off the network computer and left the lecture hall. He was sure that any minute the sprinklers would go off due to the pillar of white-hot rage he left standing behind him.

Heather looked up from the computer in her small office to see Gregg standing in her doorway. In reality it was more of a boxed-in work station than a real office, but it had walls, a glass front, and a door. If she wanted, she could shut the door and close the blinds for some privacy. It was only temporary, she knew that. The admissions office had relocated to this new local over the summer. During that time, she was mostly busy giving tours of campus to prospective students. Now, her duties were mostly clerical. Once they hired a new database administrator, Heather's skills would be better directed elsewhere. The Director of Admissions was no fool — someone of Heather's, well, "charm" for lack of a better (or at least less inappropriate) term should be seen ... not squirreled away in a back office doing data entry.

Given her full-time course load and the 20 hours a week she worked here, not to mention the additional meetings Professor Whyte seemed to call, Gregg marveled at Heather's ability to always look calm, cool, and collected ... and sexy. 'Only Heather could make that hooded sweatshirt look sexy, ' he thought as her piercing green eyes met his.

Like mystical emeralds, her steady gaze and pursed lips could melt a man (and many women) into pools of liquid lust. How any adolescent male actually learned anything about the college on the tours she gave? Undoubtedly they were too busy staring at her perfect ass and large firm breasts as she toured them around campus. Gregg wouldn't be surprised if there was a surge in male applicants for next fall's enrollment.

"I missed you last night," he said, falling under her spell.

"Liar," she smiled. "I talked with Emily this morning. I'd say you two got along just fine without me."

Gregg took a seat in the one additional chair in the office and sat down heavily. All joking aside, he did indeed miss her. He loved Emily, but even if his bed had a thousand naked women in it, it would seem empty without Heather. "I need your help."

Heather saw the conversation was going to get serious, so she tried to lighten the mood. "Of course you do. You're a man." Heather giggled behind her hand at Gregg's reaction. It wasn't everyday that someone of Gregg's intellectual ability stuck their tongue out like a child. "Sorry ... but seriously, do you need help with Charli, Laura, or Chad ... or all of the above?" Heather giggled again at Gregg's shocked reaction. Gregg silently worried for a moment if Heather had mind-control powers of her own. But, as with most things, the true reason was also the most obvious: "I talked with Charli this morning ... shortly after you two met. Why don't you close the door, I don't think this is a topic for wandering ears to hear..."

Gregg leaned backward in his chair and shut the door. For good measure he closed the blinds on the window that made up most of her front wall. Heather's wry smile turned to one filled with expectation and her eyebrow raised in interest. "So, how much longer do you think you'll be able to avoid sleeping with Charli?"

If Gregg had been drinking coffee, he would have sprayed it across her desk in a classic comic double-take. But since he didn't have such a prop, he just stared in stunned silence at Heather, his mouth working soundlessly up and down like a fish out of water. Once again, Heather's understanding of people proved a more powerful tool than Gregg's mind-controlling abilities. She didn't need special powers to know what others were thinking. "Like I said, I talked with her twice this morning. Once in the quad before your class and she called again from your apartment about a half-hour ago. She'd just finished watching our little movie. I wouldn't be surprised if she started watching it again after we hung up. If you think that girl was pining for you BEFORE she saw that video ... I only suggest you not do anything until you and Chad are back on track."

"Yeah, about that..." Gregg was trying to collect his thoughts after Heather's bombshell of a revelation. It wasn't anything he didn't really already know, but ignoring the obvious and hearing it stated so bluntly were two very different things. "I'd like to talk with him, but he's been avoiding me like the plague."

"It's not easy living under your shadow, Gregg. Think about it from his perspective: For four months at the dig, Chad lusted after me along with the other boys. Then you and I finally hook up. Chad meets Emily, but only because of you. Chad sees Laura, a girl he hates for some reason in your office doing your bidding. Chad meets Charli — again through you. Sure, Charli gives up her virginity to Chad, but only with you in the room, holding her hand. She's in love with him, but she's also been in love with you longer. Then there's what happened at the Omega Xi party. He feels he failed to protect her ... as if she really needed protecting. I swear, sometimes you men think it's 500 years ago and you're still wearing suits of metal and beating each other with sticks! Anyway, now he's all conflicted because Charli and Laura have become so close — he feels he should hate Laura for whatever she did to him in the past, but he feels guilty for feeling that way given what

happened to her. And you, my dear Gregg, are at the center of all of this." Heather leaned back in her chair. If she had a pipe, she would have pointed it at Gregg and muttered, "It's elementary my dear Watson."

Gregg sat in stunned silence. "I think your talents are wasted on Professor Whyte. You shouldn't be majoring in business. You should major in Psychology."

Heather grinned amusedly. "As of yesterday, I'm minoring in it. Professor Whyte came to the same conclusion in our last meeting." The toady-looking chair of the business school had taken a shine to Heather, and not in a way she was used to. If the insult-cracking professor had any lesbian-leanings, she certainly gave no indication. Her conversations with Heather had been strictly business-related and seemed to unearth a genuine talent Heather had for understanding people and organizations.

"Okay, DOCTOR Heather ... what do you recommend?" Gregg probably could have thought of something, but this sexy, beautiful, and intelligent woman before him was causing all the blood to leave his brain. Heather sat and thought for a minute.

Standing, Gregg walked behind her chair and began rubbing her shoulders, relaxing her and helping her think. She purred under his deft touch. It wasn't long before his hands had trailed lower and began massaging her heavy breasts through her ESU sweatshirt. He'd had an over-stimulating morning and his libido was getting the better of him.

After a minute of Gregg's skilled chest massage, Heather spun her chair around and pulled the heavy garment over her head. She was sweating and it wasn't due to the room's temperature. Her shoes had long since been kicked off under her desk and she frantically worked to unbuckle her belt and pull down her jeans. "If you show me just how much you missed me this morning, I'll tell you my plan. I think I know how we can kill at least two of your birds with one stone..."

Gregg dropped to his knees and hooked Heather's long legs over the office chair's arms, scooting her ass to the edge. Pulling her sodden panties to the side, he let his tongue show her just how much she was missed. She quickly laid out her plan — her speech punctuated with moans, groans, and gasps. More than once she had to stop and bite down on her discarded sweatshirt to keep from screaming. Of course, she didn't know that Gregg was making sure no one came close to her office while he had his fun.

Gregg pulled her out of the chair and sat her on the desk. He pulled her panties down her legs and threw them toward the corner. If he hadn't been so distracted by Heather's feverish attempt to unbuckle his slacks and pull them down, he would have been amused to see her panties now hanging from the little office's doorknob. It didn't matter that she was still wearing her bra and her socks. All that mattered was the giant cock that appeared before her.

"Ooh, Dr. Walters ... We'd better put this somewhere safe before you scare the children..." Even in her lust, Heather could make a quirky comment or two. With his pants around his ankles and his shirt unbuttoned, Gregg fitted the spongy tip of his giant cock-lance against her more-than-ready opening. His entrance was agonizingly slow and despite her best efforts, she couldn't get him to fill her any quicker.

"Heather?" Gregg asked, feeling Heather's fingernails dig into his asscheeks as she attempted to speed his entry. "Isn't your plan a bit over-the-top with theatrics?"

Heather pulled Gregg's head down and kissed him fiercely as he began a slow, steady fucking in and out of her heavily cunt. She seemed as aroused by the taste of her own juices on his face as she was by the pleasant stretch she was feeling between her legs.

"Um kiss I think that lick, suck I think everything she's gone through ungh in the past years has oh has been a rit- gasp ritual. This needs oh fuck to be a ceremony of some k- ungh -some kind for it to be ... to be meaningful to her ... Oh God Gregg, fuck me!"

Heather's assessment made sense and she'd never steered him wrong so far. Besides, her plan sounded like fun. Gregg plastered his lips to hers and, as if in reward for her answer, really began fucking her. Her legs locked around his waist and the desk shook violently from their furious copulation. Her mug of pens and pencils crashed to the ground (thankfully it didn't break) and her computer mouse swung by its chord after it too got jostled free of the desktop.

As quickly as it started, Heather's overheated twat clamped down in ecstasy, her orgasm causing her muscles to tense and spasm. Gregg moaned deeply into her mouth and released his pent-up load of sperm. The creamy tide soothed her burning walls and it felt incredibly good as he continued to slowly fuck his softening member in and out of her flooded pussy.

Gregg collapsed backward into Heather's office chair, his cock pulling free of Heather's cunt with an audible wet plop. Heather immediately dropped to her knees and began licking his member clean, threatening to again excite him into readiness for another round of fucking.

Gregg's hand gently caressed her cheek as she licked up and down his cock. When she'd finally cleaned every last trace of their combined juices she could find, she looked up at him, her face flush with sexual satisfaction. "So," Gregg said exhaustedly, "you have any plans for lunch?"

Heather smiled wickedly around the finger she was now sucking — a finger that was making repeated trips between her legs.

Quickly getting dressed, the two raced back to her apartment, since hers was closest. Her office reeked of sex, but they couldn't be bothered with that at the moment.

It was an hour later when she returned to make some calls and get her plan moving. Only then did she notice the panties she thought she'd lost still hanging from her office door.

Gregg's afternoon class was a much less interesting affair. Having raced back to campus after a second quickie with Heather at her apartment, Gregg was more able to focus on his lecture. Having released his sexual tension, he managed to keep his libido much more in check, and the women in his classroom were less focused on him as a piece of meat and more focused on him as their instructor.

After chatting with some of his students after class for a few minutes he strolled back to his office. Brittany was standing outside his office door, tapping her foot impatiently. Clearly she was not used to being forced to wait. Gregg couldn't care less. He knew that waiting a few minutes was the least of her problems. She'd just have to find the inner strength to get past it. Now that all her blackmail files were safely in Gregg's possession and since Gregg kept copies of the video he secretly made of their rendezvous, Brittany's power and stature were only an illusion ... and she knew it. If she played her cards right, she could walk away from this hole she dug herself relatively unscathed, her reputation largely untarnished. However, something told Gregg that Brittany wouldn't be the most cooperative student. Oh well, he was more than happy to help her learn the harsh lessons of reality.

"You're late. I've been standing around here like an idiot for the past five minutes. You could at least extend me the courtesy of being on time."

Gregg shook his head in wonder. Did she have no concept of just how little power she had? She was so used to getting her way and having people defer to her that the idea that she had to obey someone else's rules, even someone who held all the cards, was seemingly incomprehensible.

"Miss Anderson, I told you to come to my office hour. Now if I didn't show up until the last minute of that hour, I'd expect you to be here waiting. As for extending you courtesy, the only thing I'd extend to you, you've already fucked." Brittany shuddered at the memory (thanks to a gentle push from Gregg). "But I just fucked another student an hour or so ago and right now, I don't think I'd want to soil my otherwise clean dick in your nasty cunt." Technically it was true ... Heather was an enrolled student. Besides, Gregg's barbed comment more than served its purpose: She understood that he wasn't starving for sexual attention and that he wasn't impressed with her status. She looked around, glad there were no other students in the hallway to overhear his rebuke. One just never talks to an Omega Xi like that in public ... nor in private for that matter. Thankfully, Brittany bit back her retort, finally choosing the wiser path of silence.