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Old 10-11-2014, 11:53 AM   #1
Larzaius
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Default Subliminal assignment (Larzaius and cybsan)

It was an act of desperation. I had a full course load including a study on how certain frequencies of light and motion embedded in online pop-ups and the like can allow subliminal suggestions to be implanted. My creative writing Prof. Miss Li had assigned us a ten page assignment. Desperation led me to submit something on the fly, something decorated with these subliminal windows that suggested I deserved a B despite the poor quality of my paper.

I was initially quite shocked that it actually worked. Anyone looking at it could see it was crap but it got a B. I never really took her class very seriously, hell the only reason I took her class was for an easy mark and because she was as hot as hell, I mean really hot. So hot that I kept using the subliminals on her. And eventually bumped my grade to an A when I felt confident enough about these subliminals I developed. The problem is after reading so many assignments with these windows or decorative graphics it seems she is starting to become codependent on them. I have been getting twice the assignments than others. Always something little she takes as an excuse to have me edit or review something again.

So I sit here typing and I slowly think: I deserve more for my work. I continue typing this stupid story adding the usual special graphics but this time I include a link which leads to another story I wrote under an assumed alias, this story is about a stupid teacher that keeps two football players after class and ends up raped by them. In very graphic detail on how they violate her.

But I need to be careful as to not draw attention to these procedures yet. They are still experimental for me and as such I also implant for you to completely forget reading the story. But I also include in it for you start to feel aroused by it after reading it to the point that you need to take a special shower. The story I submitted as my assignment is perfectly innocent but the style is the same as my other, more darker story that I make you read. Over time you will slowly start to equate this feeling of arousal to the writing style.

I decide to get just a little more daring by suggesting you dress a little bit more casual maybe even something more comfortable and sexy.

Last edited by Larzaius; 10-27-2014 at 02:55 PM.
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Old 10-14-2014, 09:02 AM   #2
cybasn
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Default Irritations

This boy in my writing class, Craig …

I initially did not have much of an opinion about him. Well, actually I considered him a bit of a slacker, perhaps just hoping for an easy grade or such. But: I always give students a chance, especially to turn things around again. I do not believe in writing them off to make my life easier. Sometimes all they need is a challenge.

And in his case I had to say things improved much once challenged. Though I can not really put a finger on what got better. But I find his texts in some way … calming … in a sense. I do not know. But in recent weeks, I generally find myself oddly restless and distracted. When I work it gets better, to some extent, and somehow when working on his texts I find most rest. Though again I can not really put a finger on it why.

I maybe should not have done this, but I at some point have begun to make a bit excuses to collect more assignments from him. I make up excuses about parts that “I think should be reworked” or “put a different perspective on” though I am actually very fine with them. Occasionally pretending to be more critical than necessary. But then the extra practice will not hurt him I am sure. And by now I also give him straight As. So much I owe him for giving me a certain peace of mind.

But what I also go thru recently are these inexplicable … bouts? … of arousal. Or maybe not bouts. It is more that after work (which I in part do at home) and some idle browsing on the internet (a bit haphazard these days, I sometimes forget what I actually browsed thru) I kind of feeling like having a special, ‘relaxing’ shower. And the ideas I then go thru in my mind as I please myself have become … irritating and as I feel actually disturbing. Though oddly enough I can not remember specifics about them. Only some vague feeling of dread and helplessness. This is all very disconcerting. I really thought I had being single for so many years under control.

Well, at least I got a class with Craig tomorrow. Those, much like his writing assignments, seem to have a positive effect on me. Or at least I tell myself so as my mind drifts.

You will dress just a little more sexy for me tomorrow, nothing revealing or slutty but just something that would make you feel sexier, something less conservative.

Next day. I should get ready for work … 7:40 almost, got to leave the house soon. Done shaving, I’m lucky I do not have much hair but still. Like to stay smooth and clean from the neck down in that regard. It’s just more hygienic, more ‘proper’ and clean.

I just wonder though: Why not put on something ‘nicer’ today? I mean underneath of course only. Outward got to project respect of course, be professional, formal. Blouse: purple? Skirt: dark. Heels: not too high, but flats are plain out of the question. Too informal. Same goes for hose, black always. Glasses of course. So far, so strict.

Just perhaps …

Maybe different stockings for a change? Thigh high, black as always. But maybe with a seam at the back this time? No one will notice. And they are not such a hassle to wear. And black panty with it. Frilly in part (front) and see thru in other (back). With matching bra. Just for … I don’t know. I just like to. No harm in it, right?

On the bus then I wonder a bit why I put on so impractical underwear. Like stockings? I must have been a bit absent minded this morning. But I then put these thoughts asides as I start to go thru my first classes today in my mind and focus on my unfolding day.

Yet later, when it comes to go to Craig's class, I am kind of glad I put on these things. I have no idea why at all.

Last edited by cybasn; 10-31-2014 at 10:25 AM.
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Old 10-17-2014, 10:15 AM   #3
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I sit through your class barely paying attention to your reason why I have to send you another paper. Instead I'm distracted by the stockings your wearing your normally such a priss so I can see that the subliminals are working.

To be perfectly honest you can be a pain in the ass at times, you claim to want to teach creative writing and then you stifle us with restrictions on violence and sex. I wrote what I thought was a pretty good story about a silent alien invasion, and you gave me a low grade because it was too unrealistic. It's creative writing, if you wanted realism go teach fucken history. I signed for this class because I thought I would be allowed to exercise creativity instead I'm suffocated in your need to have the story be as realistic as possible. The only good thing about your class is my readers on the rape sites love hearing what I would like to do to you, in that retrospect you are my muse.

I promise to send you something tonight, while my classmates just sit thru class, most just bored with class and only a dedicated few paying real attention.

Oh I send you something all right, I send you my rape story with the football players again. I have applied it three times to you so far and I think we are ready for the next step and see what happens if we start to slowly have them affect your conscience too. But only a first little bit. The subliminals will convince you that you assigned me an erotic story, which of course you didn’t and which of course I will make you forget again about. But (and I really like the fun twist on it) you will read this one and grade me based on how aroused you got.

But I’ve added a few elements to the story, in part for fun, in part because I think I may expand on these later. I've added a coach to assist in the rape of the teacher for instance. And now the story also includes drugs. The students offer you a refreshment that has a powerful aphrosidiac. You read how she drinks the tea, and you are ordered by the subliminals to start immersing yourself in the story. Fantasizing about the coach and two of your students.

Last edited by Larzaius; 10-27-2014 at 03:06 PM.
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Old 10-17-2014, 02:45 PM   #4
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You imagine that you finally are getting through to some of the dismissive local jocks and their equally critical coach. The coach watches as they offer you some tea. Its store bought but the gesture is nice.

You notice that you are really getting immersed in the story and allow yourself a place to stretch out. You continue reading how the teacher drinks the tea and starts feeling warmer.

"Something wrong Professor?" the one jock tells polite. Though he has an odd grin to it as he say so. You are surprised when you Actually reply.

"Maybe you should take off your jacket"

"Wow look at her tits" one of the students says groping her shirt.

The coach ignores your reply and just slowly slides your jacket off. His touch like warm, tingling electricity.

As you read you react your hands seem to have a mind of their own.

The students ignore your words as the other fondles you from behind. The first getting more daring slowly trolling her skirt up.

"Always knew you were a slut" she turned to see the coach had pulled out his cock. "So Professor what do you think of this?" He must be at least nine inches and really thick.

They all laughed at her answer as the first student started running down her panties.

Her vision wasn't fooling her as the coach was at least nine inches and really thick. She was finding it hard to focus as the student between her legs starts rolling his long fingers on the outer rim of her pussy,her next reaction surprised even her.

She felt confused as to why she wasn't not shouting for help as the student behind her started lifting her shirt his hands sliding underneath trying to get under her bra, she made another protest but it was barly noticible

"You're starting to get wet Professor" the one between herr legs mocks you as he slowly slid his finger in her. She couldn't deny it either.

The coach walked closer to her in herr confused state and grabbed herr arm.
"Go ahead Professor, touch my cock and then tell me what you think"

Last edited by Larzaius; 10-27-2014 at 03:18 PM.
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Old 10-18-2014, 05:14 AM   #5
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Default Tea Time

You imagine that you finally are getting through to some of the dismissive local jocks and their equally critical coach. The coach watches as they offer you some tea. Its store bought but the gesture is nice.

I read Craig's story. Cliché characters. The uptight English teacher, the dismissive PA teacher, the thickskulled arrogant jocks. But I do like clichés at times, particularly in short stories. They save time during character definition, which then can be used to focus on other elements of the story. It all depends on how much space one has to work with.

You notice that you are really getting immersed in the story and allow yourself a place to stretch out. You continue reading how the teacher drinks the tea and starts feeling warmer.

Odd. It is only a text, but it almost feels as if I really drank something.

"Something wrong Professor?" the one jock tells polite. Though he has an odd grin to it as he say so. You are surprised when you Actually reply.

"Erm … pardon?" I reply. And I am not sure where my confusion stems from. That these jocks offer me a bit of tea? Or that I actually seem to talk to characters in a story I am only reading.

"Maybe you should take off your jacket"

"Err, yes … thank you." I reply, surprised a bit about their consideration. What am I doing here? I feel warm? Uneasy and restless actually?

"Wow look at her tits" one of the students says groping her shirt.

"Ex … excuse me?" I exclaim in shock about the gall of his comment. But next I feel a hand grab firm and demanding on my left breast!

The coach ignores your reply and just slowly slides your jacket off. His touch like warm, tingling electricity.

"Wha- …? Mr. … !?" What it is name again? I … cannot remember. How did I

As you read you react your hands seem to have a mind of their own.

It is my own hand that is on my breast. Groping it, using my palm to clutch it and my fingers to dig into it. My thumb and index closing in around my nipple as it stretches against the black lacey bra. I feel too hot and confined. My jacket is already on the floor. When did I slide it off? When I lay down on my couch?

The students ignore your words as the other fondles you from behind. The first getting more daring slowly trolling her skirt up.

"No … no please Si- … To- …" I cannot recall their names. Sid? Tom? "That’s going too far now." I protest. But it sounds unconvincing and half hearted. As if molesting my breast didn’t cross a line already. Why do I allow these liberties to be taken by these two dumb jocks? Is it fear? Is it confusion? Why do I feel so weak that I can not firmly rebuke them, not even verbally, I wonder as my right hand now runs up my stocking clad leg to the hem of my skirt and then slowly pulling it up as I lie on the couch, reading on.

"Always knew you were a slut" she turned to see the coach had pulled out his cock. "So Professor what do you think of this?" He must be at least nine inches and really thick.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim, raising one hand to my cheek and in the same motion readjusting my glasses. As if I am not only shocked by the sheer size, but also as if I need to see the huge thing more clearly to actually believe it. Did my colleague just take out his enormous dick right besides me I'm molested by his students? One now pushing against me from behind while reaching around and groping my tits as the other runs up my skirt?

They all laughed at her answer as the first student started running down her panties.

"Sto- … stop! To- … Si- …!?" I just cannot remember their names. And then I feel how the student before me reaches down to grab my black lacey panty and just pull it down as he grins while in reality it is me who lies on the couch and now getting my panty off, exposing and freeing my shaven pussy from its confinement.

Her vision wasn't fooling her as the coach was at least nine inches and really thick. She was finding it hard to focus as the student between her legs starts rolling his long fingers on the outer rim of her pussy, her next reaction surprised even her.

In my mind I can only stare in horror at the exposed enormity right besides me and watch it mesmerized. I can not believe the size but soon am distracted by how the jock before me cruelly tease me as he trail his fingers up from my stockings along the inside of my thighs to the outer rim of my pussy.

I am trapped! My blouse - it’s too tight. I can hardly move. I need to get out of it! Why is this my only idea to break free?!

She felt confused as to why she wasn't not shouting for help as the student behind her started lifting her shirt his hands sliding underneath trying to get under her bra, she made another protest but it was barely noticeable

I slightly arch there on my back on top of the couch while I struggle to wedge my left hand under my blouse beneath my bra, pushing my hip forward to lie back more and get a better angle … right onto my waiting hand. “No, no please …” I stutter feebly in my head. But then already my fingertips run towards my twat, my thumb aiming for the little nub above it.

"You're starting to get wet Professor" the one between her legs mocks you as he slowly slid his finger in her. She couldn't deny it either.

I part my legs as I lay there on my back and push three fingers right into my sopping wet cunt as I squirm and gyrate my ass and hip on the couch, shoulders digging into it as I press my head backwards hard over its arm, my left hand finally finding my tit and grabbing it hard, nails digging into it, fingers trying to get a hold on my nipple.

I moan and lick my lips as in my head I can only listen how my colleague points out for everyone to hear how aroused I get by the evil play of him and his two football players. A trio which I see now only showed up to my office hour to teach me a lesson for meddling in their affairs and rape me!

The coach walked closer to her in her confused state and grabbed her arm.
"Go ahead Professor, touch my cock and then tell me what you think"


I imagine feeling how I am grabbed painfully by the wrist in a vice-like grip and how my hand is forced to the huge erection to my side. I can not turn my head away from it as the sheer force of it sends a spark down my spine to my pussy as well as to my nipples. And again so when my hand is made to go against his cock and touch it with my palm resting at the huge shaft from below. And then out of my own free will, I close my fingers around it and try to encompass it as if I need to measure it to believe.

My thumb and index barely touch and the sheer realization of its girth again makes my tits feel as if they are trapped inside my shirt. My eyes go wide again as I have to look up to the coach beyond his cock into his uncaring eyes as he talks down to me and then back to his enormous pole and I have to let out another short moan of excitement as his student fingerfucks my pussy. What do I think? How can this be, I am even getting aroused by this?! I am to be violated by three men. Students to boot! And a coworker!!! And all I can do is moan and watch and have them do what they want with me? Even take part?! No one may know!

“Please … I’ll do what you want …” I plead in abject horror.

“Just do not tell anybody.”

“Please.”

Last edited by cybasn; 10-31-2014 at 10:32 AM.
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Old 11-04-2014, 03:00 PM   #6
Larzaius
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The tea kettle going off in the kitchen brings you back to the real world. Yu are also feeling confused, this story its really getting you excited. You wonder how far he could take this fantasy and you can't help but wonder does the idea of getting raped really excite you?

You decide Craig will have another writing assighnment something more like this one, just a short story with some more details. You also want a better set up with as well.

You go to class the next day, it's strange that you gave Craig's story an A- considering you have trouble remembering its details. You look at him and you start to feel like you can relate to his writing style a little easier.

You are also surprised to see that I am paying attention in your class. Considering your critiques and offering some insightful conversations. There may be some hope for me yet or so you think the truth is I am texting in class but the subliminals have you convinced otherwise.

I look at the assignment you want me to write an actual erotica (even though you don't remember asking for it which includes a specific scenario. I can't resist and decide to have a little fun. I wait until after class

"Um Miss Li, sorry I just had a question about the assignment," once again my respectful tone and actual questioning about the assignment catches you off guard.

"Well I was just wondering how much freedom do I get to have with this character and the situation? I want to use words like words like cock and fuck?" I do my best to maintain my composure as you usually have us avoid profanity unless it is absoulutely necessary to the story. I can see the ways your eyes break contact from me. You even squirm in your seat a little like your trying to hide a flash of pleasure. The blush on your skin tells me that you enjoyed the content of the story and would like to read another one. Perhaps one about a certain Asian cunt who makes her students classes miserable so he decides to get revenge on her.

Last edited by Larzaius; 11-23-2014 at 10:06 PM.
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Old 11-30-2014, 11:46 PM   #7
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up for a laugh nothing to heavy if you like my public rps hit me up and we can try something a little more intermit don't get online often but if you want to chat now on kik livingd011
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Old 05-03-2015, 11:24 AM   #8
Larzaius
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Reworking this into à story. If you want to see how it concludes email at larzaius@yahoo.com. Even better provide your own Victim with photo.
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