Senior Project

A Coed's Journey Into Total Submission

 

by Wayne Mitchell

 

SAMPLE CHAPTER

 

***

 

Chapter One

Mindy schemes how to get out of having to actually do a Senior Project.

 

Mindy Peterson was an advance track psychology student at Hamilton University. That meant she was working on a Masters of Psychology at the same time she was working on a Bachelors of Liberal Arts in Psychology. The Bachelors degree was basically useless in the real world without the Masters degree, so Hamilton combined the programs into one advanced track that could be completed in five years.

Mindy considered the Masters degree also to be useless because she had no plans to ever become a psychologist. Actually, she had no plans to ever have to work for a living in any profession. Her sole intent throughout her five years of college was to get an MRS degree. Her plan was to marry a rich, or soon to be rich, doctor like her mother had done. Snagging a rich husband was her primary goal for college- that and attending every party possible in her years there.

She had chosen Hamilton because they had an impressive pre-med program. Doctors who graduated from the Hamilton pre-med program were almost guaranteed entrance into some of the most prestigious medical schools in the country. And graduation from the prestigious schools almost guaranteed lucrative practices after graduation. If you were fishing for a rich husband, Hamilton was definitely the pond in which to cast your hook.

Mindy had chosen psychology for two reasons. The first and most important reason was that it put her in the right buildings and the right classes to meet medical students. The pool of prospective husbands-to-be would be right there in front of her hours at a time, several days a week.

The second, and almost equally important reason for picking psychology, was that she knew that she could bullshit her way through almost all of the classes required for a psychology degree. And for those classes that she couldn't fake her way through, Hamilton was large enough that she could hire someone to attend in her place.

There were real advantages of attending large universities when you have money. Many of the general classes were held in huge lecture halls, and as long as someone filled your seat and turned in the required work, no one ever checked or knew for sure who it was that had truly been attending class. And there are always very bright students who are very much in need of ready cash, especially at a school like Hamilton.

Unfortunately, things had not worked out as well as Mindy had planned. It was now her fifth and final year at Hamilton University and she didn't have any likely grooms ready to reel into a life of wealth and bliss. If something did not change soon, she might end up having to actually set up practice as a psychologist after graduation.

And then there was the problem of a senior project.

Mindy had taken, or faked, all of the necessary classes and had all of the requirements of her degree completed... all that is, except her "Senior Project." A master's thesis wasn't required in the advanced track program, but a senior project was, and much like a true thesis, it meant that she had to work one-on-one with a project advisor chosen from the faculty of the Psychology Department.

This was face-to-face, one-on-one. There was no way to fake a senior project or get someone else to do it for her. She would have to do the work herself. And since she had delayed her project twice already, she would have to complete the work during the "'tween" semester in January.

At Hamilton, there were two regular semesters and one short semester, called a "'tween" or "between semesters" period in January. If you counted from the time school let out for Christmas break until the second semester started in February, you had approximately seven weeks. Many students used that time for off-campus educational trips or projects. Mindy usually used it to go skiing or go to a beach somewhere to party. This year, she was going to have to stay on campus and complete her senior project.

Mindy had tried every way she could to get out of having to do the project, but there was just no way to escape the requirement. She could, however, choose her advisor- if he accepted her, and she could choose her project- if the board approved it. So, in consultation with a few of her sorority sisters, she came up with what they considered to be a foolproof plan. Her advisor had to be a professor from the Psychology Department, so she would choose "Dr. Nerd" as her advisor, and she would do a very, very, very explicit project on human sexuality.

Doctor Nerd- actually Dr. Raymond Nord, was one of the youngest members of the faculty. He was extremely brilliant- even beyond brilliant, but like so many other brilliant men, he was also extremely awkward around women and very socially inept. Mindy and her sorority sisters often played a game they called "Nerd cough" in his classes. Someone noticed that Dr. Nord would cough nervously whenever one of the girls in the front row would accidentally flash her panties at him when she crossed or uncrossed her legs. So, several of them would occasionally sit in the front row in very short skirts and see how often they could distract him and get him to cough.

Mindy proudly held the record with 37 "Nerd coughs" in a one-hour class. To be honest, however, she had cheated slightly. She had no panties on that day, so what she was flashing at Dr. Nerd was not her panties, but her bare pussy. She was surprised at how much it had turned her on to do so. Opening her legs repeatedly to Dr. Nord's view, was not just a "feel good or silly inside" kind of turned on, it was a "feel the lubrication overflow your pussy and puddle beneath you where you sit" kind of turned on.

Mindy hadn't actually, "wet the seat" since some inept teenaged fumbling around many years ago when she was first learning about boys. But after an hour of flashing her freshly shaven clam at Dr. Nerd, she was sitting in a puddle of her own juices.

Luckily, it was early spring and she had a light sweater to tie around her waist and let hang down in the back. Otherwise she would have had to walk back to the sorority house with a wet spot showing on her skirt. It was also fortunate when she got back to her room that there was no one else on the floor to hear her make use of her "Jumbo Little Friend," to take her to one of the strongest orgasms she had even experienced.

Alicia, a local girl who was now the sorority president, had given her the oversized vibrator as a gag gift two Christmases ago in their house gift exchange. Everyone had laughed and giggled about how it would never fit inside of them. Mindy knew that Alicia didn't like her for some reason, and had done it to embarrass her in front of the house. So, to show she that was not embarrassed- even though she was absolutely mortified, after the laughter had died down, Mindy immediately announced to her sorority sisters,"I think I will keep My Jumbo Little Friend here on the bookshelf above my desk so that if any of you suddenly feel the need to borrow it, you can find it. Just remember if you need to visit My Jumbo Little Friend, clean it really, really well before you bring it back."

"Visiting My Jumbo Little Friend," became a joke codeword within the sorority for getting yourself off. Occasionally one of the sisters would use the phrase when talking about unsatisfactory sex with one of the frat boys. "He was so fast that I thought I was going to have to go visit My Jumbo Little Friend just to get any satisfaction."

No one ever actually borrowed Mindy's Jumbo Little Friend, and no one ever thought that Mindy would ever actually use it. It was just way too big. But it did have a very powerful vibrator in it, and sometimes, when she was alone on the floor, Mindy would take it from the shelf and rub it across her breasts and pussy as she lay naked on the bed. She had never, ever, attempted to take it inside of herself before, but flashing her pussy at Dr. Nord had so turned her on that she needed SOMETHING inside of her.

As soon as she got to her bedroom, she stripped off her wet skirt and sopping panties and threw them in her clothes hamper. As she tossed her blouse and bra onto the desk, her eyes fell on the giant joke dildo sitting on the shelf.

"It's you or a doorknob," she said to the huge, pink, penis as she took it from its place of honor above her desk. Mindy's Jumbo Little Friend, despite its size, slid easily into her that day.

She never again wore panties to Dr. Nord's classes after that, and even on the coldest days of winter wore short skirts on those days on which she had classes with Dr. Nord. Surprisingly to her, her attendance at Dr. Nord's classes also improved greatly. She told herself that it was because they were smaller classes and he could see if she was gone. Or, she used the excuse to herself that she enjoyed so easily embarrassing poor Dr. Nerd. But the reality was that she yearned to re-create that first day when flashing her bare cunt at him had so overwhelmingly turned her on.

Because of his past responses to her naked pussy flashing, Mindy figured that if she could make her project sexually explicit enough, Dr. Nerd would be totally flummoxed and she would be able to maneuver him into approving her project regardless of what it was or what she actually did for it.

The plan, devised by her and her sorority sisters, was simple. She would write up several highly-charged sexually explicit fantasies and then use what she called the SPBBS method of analysis (Standard Psycho-Babble Bull Shit) to compare each fantasy to reality. Dr. Nerd would be so rattled by the subject and by the explicit way she wrote and talked about it, that he wouldn't notice the true content, or lack of it, in her project and would approve whatever it was that she did.

It was a foolproof plan. The only problem was picking what fantasies to include. The fantasies had to be hot and they had to be very, very sexually explicit. Several wine-fueled discussions long into the night hours with her sorority sisters came up with many good ideas, but none of them seemed to be what was needed.

Finally, after their fifth glass of wine late one night, her good friend, Laureen, said to her, "Mindy baby, if it don't make you wet, you ain't going to pull it off. It has to be something that comes to you in your dreams and makes you wake up all hot and horny and ready to fuck the bedposts. You gotta be so hot you're melting, and you gotta be able to project that heat at him like a blowtorch so it will melt him down to a puddle on the floor. Anything less than that and the plan won't work."

Laureen drained her sixth glass of wine and set it in the middle of the table. "You don't really need us," she said. "Just make a list of the hottest damn dreams you have ever had in the past couple of years, and then narrow it down to the three or four that burn your fingers and scorch the paper as you write about them."

The next morning, as soon as she got up, before she even changed out of her night clothes, Mindy sat at her computer and did exactly that. She typed several pages of "stream of consciousness" notes about dreams that she could remember from as far back as her childhood.

As her fingers flew across the keys, images flashed into Mindy's mind... images from dreams long ago... images of recent dreams that she could almost remember... images of being dragged into a van by a hooded stranger... images of her thrusting her body up to meet the strokes of a masked man who was ravaging her.... images of her across a man's lap... images of her lying over the back of a couch being beaten with a belt.... images of her tightly bound spread eagle on a bed while a man's- or was it a woman's- hands stroked and tweaked and teased her higher and higher... and finally images of her kneeling naked at the feet of an unseen man and saying, "I am your slave forever," as a wide, black, leather collar was placed around her neck.

When Mindy finished writing, she found that she was trembling and breathing heavily... very heavily. She looked over at the door to her bedroom to make sure that it was closed and then reached under her night shirt and thrust her hand into her sopping slit.

As soon as her hands brushed over her swollen clit, she came. She leaned down until her shoulders were resting on the desk and rocked and moaned in orgasm. It wasn't a tremendous orgasm. She was able to keep her moans to a reasonable level and was able to stay in the chair, but it was an orgasm none-the-less... a long, drawn-out, and wonderful orgasm.

What she had written into her computer had more that "got her wet." It took her over the top. There was no doubt that these fantasies were hot. And there was no doubt that she would be able to write and talk about these fantasies in such a way as to totally overwhelm her advisor.

Poor Dr. Nerd wouldn't have a chance.