The Learning Center

Dr. Charles Lassiter was staring at his twenty third Russian essay test of the day, rethinking his future. As a professor at the exclusive Merrioak Women's College he had thought he would be able to follow his two favorite subjects with ease. The first was the mind, he was an acknowledged expert in four separate fields dealing with the mind and its workings, ranging from Neuro-chemical transmitters and their design and development, to the use of Hypnotic and Mystical techniques in psychiatric care. The college had virtually thrown money at him to entice him to come and add his prestigious name to their staff.

His second great interest was females and sex in all its myriad forms. The college setting had given him almost unlimited access to young female partners. The pool of partners he had to choose from was generally a cut above the average as the young women who attended this school were invariably rich and rather well bred. The daughters of rich men with beautiful wives tended to be beautiful in their own right. His study of sex, and pleasure and pain had already taken him around the world. He had learned techniques that could put a man or woman into a coma from pleasure. He had discovered tribal secrets and combinations of chemicals that could turn the average human into a nymphomaniac or satyr in an hour. He had also studied the many varied methods of achieving domination or forcing submission. He had used these methods to bring many women and a few men under his control.

The inconsequential of daily life though interrupted his pursuits. In order to maintain his teaching credentials he had agreed to teach one under-grad course at Merrioak. His only stipulation was that it NOT be related to his specialties. The Chancellor, who was a fawning toad, if truth be known, had set him up with this Introduction to Russian course. His attempts to teach these young women a language he had mastered in two weeks as a youth were beginning to wear on him. His students seemed frightfully stupid. Unable to learn the simplest syntax rules and apply them.

The female students in Dr. Lassiter's class were, for the most part unconcerned by their lack of progress in what was to them a useless language. Of the forty girls in the class, thirty-nine were there to see the Prof. not to learn. The Professor was a fantasy wet dream come true to many of these girls. He was 32, young enough, but mature too. He was tall 6'4", and powerfully built, he had short wavy brown hair with red highlights, large hands, a slow seductive smile, dark almost black eyes, and a mysterious presence that drew them like moths to the flame. His reputation of taking young lovers and leaving them both happy and strangely silent about their time with him, did nothing to reduce the desire most of his students felt for him.

For most of them, it was just a challenge to see if they could capture the great Dr. Lassiter for themselves. Each girl was sure she could twist, any man, especially someone below them socially, around their fingers and then leave him hanging. These girls were from the social elite. Each believed she would be the next Ivana Trump or Jackie Onassis if she just, played the right games with the right CEO, Power Broker, Despot or promising Tycoon. Their charms were not for some Teacher, even if he was a sex god as was rumored.

If the truth was to be known Dr. Lassiter was a bit of a socio-path. He considered himself so intelligent that most people he met appeared to be of some other race. He used and manipulated people to meet his own intellectual and sexual pursuits. He wasn't concerned in the least about their feelings or what they wanted for themselves. He could not conceive that their puny lives actually meant much. He hid his spots though. He had per fected his act to the point were no one on the campus even suspected his lack of a conscience or normal morals.

He wasn't sure that most of the women at Merrioak were even capable of true thought. This didn't stop him from luring the occasional debutante into a date. Using drugs and hypnotic techniques he had learned, he would then turn her into a little sex slave for his enjoyment. He discarded these toys as soon as he tired of them. He knew to cover his tracks though. None of his little playthings ever remembered any of the games he had play ed with them, although most would be borderline nympho's for the rest of their lives. He was happy with this situation but it was his studies that concerned him most, the intellectual challenges. Only at the intellectual level could he seem to find goals that he had to strive to conquer.

The one real intellectual joy of his position here was the opportunity to work with Avengelyne Torr. Ms. Torr was as brilliant in the applied sciences of the mind as he was the theoretical. Their discussions together had led her to breakthroughs in the development of new drugs and treatments for the insane. Her research and suggestions had led him to many new interesting avenues of study. His frustration lay in the lack of time to work in his newest area of interest. Years of research had led him to believe that a particular area of the brain was actually a super Learning Center. If he could learn to isolate it and in some way create an interface with it he could teach anyone, anything in almost no time.

For almost two months Avengelyne had been working from his notes and findings to try and develop his ideas into something they could test and possibly publish together. Unfortunately she had been working alone as he had been speaking at seminars and teaching this "Voroktnit Damned" class.

Today he expected to meet with Avengelyne and discuss her progress.

"CLANG", the huge metal door to Dr. Torr's lab in the basement of the Science Building bounced noisily off the wall as Charles entered her inner sanctum. Dr. Torr had been given permission to use the fourth and bottom floor of the basement in any way she saw fit, she preferred privacy for her work so as Charles closed and locked the heavy steel door behind them he was sure they were alone.

Avengelyne Torr was a picture of scientific rigidity. Her auburn hair was piled atop her head, pulled back in a tight bun that seemed to stretch her face into a painful frown. She was tall, 5'11" and actually had a large bust and shapely body but she kept it buried under lab coats, wool skirts and baggy shapeless sweaters and blouses. Today she was looking very worried and Charles began to fear that her news for him was not good.

"Come in, Come in Dr. Lassiter," she said, "what can I get you coffee? a bagel?".

"No I'm fine, thank you", he replied "What I really want to know is how you are Dr. Torr. You aren't looking very well, have you had any episodes since we last talked?" Charles and Avengelyne didn't trust other, less intelligent Dr.'s then themselves when it came to their own problems, so they had been acting as medical and psychiatric providers to each other for two years. Dr. Torr had an eating disorder (bulimia) that sometimes flared up when she was either working too much or not enough.

Charles had, with Avengelyne's permission, put her through a great number of hypnotic sessions trying to get at the root of the problem. She was ready to be cued with her key phrase at any time now. She then went into a deep trance in which she always felt the need to reveal any episodes she might otherwise wish to hide. Overcoming her denial of these episodes in this manner had reduced their occurrences dramatically. She could no longer hide what she had done.

Charles always found it amusing that Avengelyne never suspected that she had been programmed with anything other than her desire to talk about her bulimia. After many months of gaining her trust and extending what she would and would not do, she was now at a point where she would tell him anything he asked while in trance state. She was indoctrinated to only remember what she had said about her Bulimia.

She didn't realize that when he put her into trance she generally masturbated herself to orgasm while she talked unaware in her trance state of what she was doing. Charles had always found that giving a subject something pleasurable to do when they were doing something they might not otherwise do, was a great incentive. It was easy to resist pain but almost impossible to resist guiltless pleasure. Charles had never touched her when she was in trance but he did find her quite desirable and he certainly enjoyed the show.

"No, No nothing like that", she said wringing her hands eyes glancing furtively around the room. "I've been working very hard and I've had some disappointing results recently, nothing to worry about. In fact, I've been thinking of stopping this line of research and going back to my research on the Parkinson's Drug". Pacing back and forth, taking tiny mincing steps, Charles could tell from Avengelyne's body language that she was upset, even scared, and that she was trying very hard to keep something from him.

Taking her hand, Charles led her to a stool. "Here now, take a seat, something is obviously upsetting you. I want you to sit down and take some deep breaths and then we'll start again".

"No really Dr. Lassiter, I have a dreadful headache suddenly and maybe it would be better if you............."

"Einstein Ice Cream", he said forcefully.

Avengelyne seemed to deflate on her stool. A dreamy relaxed poise seemed to settle over her. Her eyes fixed on a glassy middle distance she took three long deep breaths letting each one out with a whispering sigh. She began to smile and pushing her lab coat out of the way she began to massage her left breast with her right hand. Her knees splayed wide and from experience Dr. Lassiter knew she would soon have a finger sliding over her clit. He needed to find some things out. Sitting on a stool across from his suddenly happy colleague he knew he would learn whatever she could tell him.