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