The Professor Who Turned Me Into Her Little Woman

Dr. Mariana Vidal walked into classroom 201 at Brennan University at exactly eight o’clock, and the murmur of the twenty students died away at once. The sun was coming in through the window on the left, so she never turned on the lights. Her stiletto heels rang against the tile as she made her way to the desk, set down her handbag, and perched on the edge with her legs crossed, as though she wanted to be looked at.

She was wearing a black pencil dress, far too elegant for a morning class, with a square neckline that hinted at a generous bust. Dark nylon stockings, red-painted nails, metal-framed glasses that gave her that authoritative air she enjoyed so much.

—Good morning. Today we’re starting a new topic —she said—. We’re going to study hypnosis as a therapeutic adjunct.

A snort came from the back of the classroom.

—Any problem, Mr. Acosta? —she asked without losing her composure.

—Hypnosis is a sideshow trick —he blurted out, leaning back in his chair with the confidence of someone who thought he knew everything.

—For many people it is. Here we’re going to see how it’s used as support in anxiety treatment or to help people quit smoking.

—Freud himself dismissed it.

—Freud established that it didn’t work in deep therapy. But a lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then, and in a cognitive approach it works perfectly well.

—If the cause isn’t resolved, the behavior won’t change —Acosta insisted.

—I can see you’re strictly psychoanalytic. Let’s not wander off the point, please.

Mariana continued the class, laid out the benefits, risks, and protocols, and showed results from her own practice. When she finished, the student cornered her by the door.

—Professor, I absolutely do not agree with what you said.

She took a deep breath. Every so often she got one like this: more eager to argue than to listen, unshakable in his convictions.

—I understand your theoretical framework. I’m asking you for a little patience and openness. Now excuse me, I have a consultation.

She walked away down the empty corridor, her heels punctuating her irritation. She didn’t mind questions; on the contrary, she welcomed criticism. What infuriated her was being contradicted for the sake of contradiction.

***

The next day, at the same time, she found him in the back row again.

—Today we’ll see how hypnosis is enhanced by combining it with psychotropics —she announced.

The snort, on cue.

—That doesn’t exist. It’s the effect of the drug, which makes the subject suggestible.

—My intention is to demonstrate that if we first administer a substance like ketamine, which on its own lowers defenses, the results of suggestion multiply.

—You can’t demonstrate that.

Mariana counted to three. This was the last time she was going to allow it.

—Very well. Since you’re so convinced it doesn’t work, I’ll propose something. Come to my office today at six. I’ll hypnotize you for the entire semester, and when it’s over, your classmates will decide whether the technique works.

—I accept. I doubt you’re capable of hypnotizing me.

—Is everyone willing to serve as referees? —she asked the class.

The yes was unanimous. No one objected.

***

Acosta arrived on time. At least he had that going for him.

—Come in, sit down in that high-backed armchair. I need you to be comfortable. Today we’ll only do an exploratory session: no suggestions, no drugs. I’m just going to check whether you can be hypnotized.

—“If” I can? Now I see you’re doubting, professor.

What a talent that boy had for irritating her.

—I don’t doubt myself. It happens that between ten and twenty percent of people are incapable of trusting anyone else. I consider that a character flaw.

—Let’s see if I’m lucky enough to belong to that group —he mocked.

She took off one of her earrings, set with a semiprecious stone, and held it in front of his eyes.

—Focus on the shine.

—And the watch? Don’t you use a watch?

—Any object will do. Let’s begin.

With a slow, monotonous voice, she gradually led him into trance. To her relief, the student proved perfectly hypnotizable. And the exploration confirmed her hunch: Acosta’s personality was a house of cards. The only thing holding it up was the rigidity of his beliefs. It would be enough to move one card.

—Wake up —she said, snapping her fingers.

—Mm… I admit I feel more relaxed. But nothing else.

—That was only exploratory. Come back tomorrow at the same time and we’ll start for real.

When he left, Mariana opened a new folder, wrote his name on the cover, and began taking notes. Let’s see how much arrogance is still inside you in a few months.

***

She devoted the first week to smoothing the ground. Session after session, she reinforced the student’s trust in her; almost casually, she suggested that he preferred mature women to girls his own age, that he was aroused by high heels, flawless makeup, long nails. That in her presence he would feel calm, safe, docile.

At the faculty, his classmates noticed the change. Acosta was no longer the usual contrarian; he participated without opposition, weighed every comment. “Hypnosis works,” they all concluded. None of them imagined what was coming.

In the second week, Mariana raised the stakes. She offered him coffee before the session; he had no idea that inside it was the exact dose of ketamine for his weight. Once he was in deep trance, she began to sow.

—Let’s go back. You were fifteen years old. Did you have a best friend?

—Yes. Diego. We were inseparable.

—Do you remember ever seeing him naked?

—One afternoon, at my house. He left the bathroom door open.

—Did you only look? Didn’t you touch him when he turned around?

—No… I don’t think so.

—Focus. Maybe you held him for a moment.

—Now that you mention it… maybe. For a second.

Step by step, with questions that seemed innocent, Mariana wove a memory that had never existed. She took a silicone replica from the drawer and placed it in the hand of the sleeping student.

—It’s here. Touch it. Relive what you felt.

—I’m terribly embarrassed —he murmured, stroking it.

—You have no reason to be. Diego liked it. He asked you to keep going.

—Yes… he’s asking me to keep going. That I’m doing it well.

—Wake up —she ordered at the end.

Acosta opened his eyes in confusion. He remembered with painful clarity something that had never happened: the texture, the weight, the moans of his childhood friend. That night, in his bed, he relived the invented episode until he finally came all over the sheets, then gathered up his own semen with his fingers and brought them to his mouth, amazed to recognize the taste.

***

The rest of the week, the sessions continued. More false memories appeared: entire afternoons with Diego, mutual caresses, oral sex, kisses. How could he have forgotten all that? He was no longer confused. He was aroused.

In the third week, Mariana swapped the ketamine for mescaline and took the next step. She replaced the replica with a harness. She took off her dress and, in lingerie, stockings, and heels, fastened it around her waist.

—Maybe this will help you remember. Kiss it. Run your tongue over it.

The student, in trance, obeyed without resistance.

—Now take it all the way into your mouth. Your reflex is gone.

With one hand she guided the back of his neck until he took it deep.

—Look me in the eyes. Always look into the eyes of the person you’re pleasing. From today on, in trance, you’ll address me as Mistress or Madam. Is that clear?

He nodded as best he could.

On Friday, Mariana sent him, still sleepwalking, to buy a chastity device from a shop two blocks away. When he returned, she fitted it onto him deftly and hung the key on a chain she wore around her neck.

—When you wake up, wearing it won’t bother you. You’ll think it’s part of the therapy.

—Perfectly clear, Madam.

***

That weekend was torment for Acosta. Locked in, unable to get an erection, desperate for relief that never came. On Monday he walked into the office on the verge of collapse.

—You have to do something, Professor. I give up, you won, hypnosis works, I’ll sign wherever you want. But I need to be released.

—Calm down. Drink water and relax.

There was already mescaline in the glass. She induced trance using the key from the chain itself as a pendulum.

—Today you’ll learn to have an orgasm a different way. Take off your clothes and lean on the desk.

She put on latex gloves, lubricated a curved prosthesis designed for the prostate, and prepared him patiently, first with her fingers. When he started moaning, she increased the pace until the student came without touching himself, spilling over the wood.

—Did you enjoy it?

—Yes, very much.

—Then give thanks. Clean my desk.

Without a word, he licked his own semen off the lacquered surface. The routine repeated itself all week. By Friday hypnosis was no longer necessary: one suggestion was enough to make him take off his pants and offer himself.

***

On Sunday afternoon Mariana’s phone rang. Unknown number.

—It’s me, Professor. Acosta. I can’t take it anymore, I need your help.

—Today is Sunday. We have an appointment tomorrow.

—I’m begging you.

She smiled. The fly was walking into the web on its own. She gave him her private address.

She received him wearing a silk kimono tied at the waist. Underneath, a black leather corset that gave her an wasp-like waist, dark stockings, stiletto heels, impeccable makeup, and the harness already in place, deforming the fabric with an unmistakable bulge.

Acosta entered almost without greeting, dropped his pants, and bent over the living-room table.

—Please, I can’t take it anymore. Penetrate me.

—Not so fast. I’m only asking for one little whim.

—Anything.

She led him to the bedroom. On the bed was a set of silk lingerie.

—Put it on.

He dressed without resisting. Mariana came up behind him and whispered in his ear.

—What do you want?

—For you to penetrate me, Madam.

—Will you be my little woman?

—Yes, Madam. Whatever you want.

She bent him over the bed, spread his legs, lubricated, and went in with a single thrust.

—What’s your name?

—Andrés.

—No longer. From now on you are Renata. What’s your name?

—I’m Renata, Madam.

She rode him for a long time, until semen began spurting in jets from the trapped member in the cage, without him touching it. Mariana collected it and made the newly born Renata drink it.

—Tomorrow come to the office wearing these clothes. And completely shaved.

—Yes, Mistress.

***

Every day that week a new garment was added: on Monday low heels to learn how to walk, on Tuesday a tight miniskirt, on Wednesday breast prostheses, on Thursday a blouse, on Friday long earrings. Mariana also fitted her with a plug she was to wear at all times, “to keep you ready.” Renata obeyed every order with a docility that no longer needed trance.

—On Sunday at noon come to my house —she told her at dismissal—. It will be a special session.

***

When she arrived, Renata discovered they were not alone. Sitting on the sofa waiting was Dr. Beatriz Salcedo, dean of Brennan University. Brown tailored suit that could not hide her bust, hair pulled back, tortoiseshell glasses, lips and nails a deep red.

—A pleasure that you could come —said the dean—. It’s time for Renata to come fully into the light. But first she needs to be dressed properly.

The two of them transformed him. White corset, more generous prostheses, stockings held up by a garter belt, high shoes, full makeup, false nails, a red-haired wig with curls down to mid-back, and, at the end, a cream-colored suit that molded his new silhouette.

—Meet Renata —said the dean in front of the full-length mirror—. This is who you are now.

Renata looked at herself: an image that breathed professionalism and restrained desire at the same time.

—Tomorrow I’ll update your file with your new identity. You’ll work half-time as my secretary. Agreed?

—Yes, Madam.

—But first, a small admissions test. Come closer.

The dean opened her jacket, freed a breast, and offered it to her. Renata licked it first, then sucked it, and was surprised to notice warm, sweet milk flowing from it. Meanwhile, Mariana positioned herself behind her, removed the plug, and entered her slowly.

—Continue lower, girl —ordered the dean, pushing the skirt aside.

Renata descended, kissing her way down her belly until she found, instead of what she expected, a real member pointing at her face.

—I told you my case was similar to yours —explained the dean between gasps—. The only difference is that in my case the desire to penetrate remained. I went through Dr. Vidal’s hands too. Begin.

Renata took it in completely, stroking her testicles, trapped between the two women, who took turns in different positions for a long while. When the dean felt herself nearing climax, she pulled away and spilled her orgasm over the lips of the new student.

—Receive your baptism —she said.

The three of them finished up tangled in an embrace on the floor, enjoying the friction of nylon and skin.

—Tomorrow at nine I’ll see you in my office —the dean murmured.

***

The next day, Dr. Vidal showed up at the dean’s office. At the desk in the outer office, perfectly transformed, was Renata.

—The dean has summoned me —said the professor.

—Yes, Doctor. She’s waiting for you. Please come in.

And as Mariana crossed the door, her former student —now her finest creation— added with an impeccable smile:

—If you need me, let me know.