Alicia had been my student for two of my courses on ethics in media, and in each one she was at the top of the class. Much as I enjoyed seeing her pretty face in the front row of my classroom, she was the sort of student who had done the reading, knew the answers, and therefore didn't really require my attention as a professor. Nevertheless, she was a frequent visitor to my office hours, eager to make sure she was crossing every t and dotting every i.

In many ways, her knack for overachieving made her the ideal test subject. Alicia could be reliably counted upon to abide by the rules of the study, because as best I could tell, it would kill her to not follow an instruction. The break between semesters afforded her the empty schedule required for participation. And while not everything about a person can be gleaned from their behavior in a classroom, I felt that I had a good baseline against which to judge the results of my experiment.

The study was on the effects of extended exposure to pornography. I'd heard, anecdotally, that some members of Gen Z especially treat porn not just as a tool for mastburbation, but as background entertainment, to be viewed for hours at a time. Given the known addictive qualities to porn, I was curious to see what effects this “edging” or the mass consumption of pornography had on one's personality. For the experiment, our subject would be subjected to an absurd amount of porn: for eight hours a day, five days a week, for four weeks, her job would be to view an endless stream of videos which I helped to curate. For the most part, these were the sorts of videos that could be found on the front page of major sites, the mainstream if you will, but they were interspersed with some of the more extreme content that your average “gooners” were surely seeking out. Alicia would be fed a diet of every porn fantasy from free use to bukkake. I asked if she was aware of what she was getting herself into.

“Yes professor, I read all the details of the proposed study,” she calmly replied. Of course she had.

“And you’re still up for it?” I was skeptical. In her pre-study survey, Alicia self-reported a “limited” exposure to pornography in her life, the lowest possible answer. Her responses suggested that her upbringing was somewhat on the sheltered side, which fit with what I’d observed of her. She always dressed modestly for class, never uttered a curse word, and made no mention of parties or even a boyfriend. All work and no play. “You don’t exactly have the most experience with this stuff, and there could be unexpected side effects. I’m just curious why you volunteered.”

“Well, as you know I’m not a volunteer; there’s $500 in it for me,” she answered. Alicia had an answer for everything. “And plus, I personally feel that these ‘effects’ you’re worried about are a question of willpower. Media is a two-way street, viewers have to at some level be open to being changed in order for it to happen. I consider myself pretty strong-willed, and I know that God has my back; I don’t think that porn is about to change my beliefs or how I live my life. It’s on people to be strong enough to stand up to temptation.”

A month later, she was on her knees in my office. Gone were the Sunday-school dresses; she was wearing a white blouse tied revealingly around her chest, and the tiniest plaid skirt I had ever seen. Seeing her dressed like that in my doorway rendered me speechless, I just stammered and stared. Previously hidden underneath her wholesome outfits was a fit body and a bubbly pair of breasts that threatened to burst out of the excuse for a top she was wearing. I almost wouldn’t have believed it was her if not for the cross necklace that still hung around her neck.

“Sorry I didn’t pass the test, Professor Daddy,” she said in a cutesy tone I’d never heard from her before. Already she was kneeling with her hands working at my zipper. “Is there anything I can do to make it up?”

“Alicia, this…” I breathed in heavily as I searched for the words to express my surprise, “isn’t like you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said innocently, and I wasn’t sure if it was an act or if she really didn’t know. Before I could speak my objections, her mouth was on my rapidly hardening cock.

I gasped as the straight-A student pushed her face into my lap. I’d suspected that the sheer volume of porn she consumed would have some effect, but this was a complete transformation. Alicia’s lips warmly cushioned my dick, which stiffly entered pressed against her throat. It felt incredible, but I mustered enough professionalism to pull her mouth off me by her pigtails.

“You…you…” I wanted to tell her that this was beneath her, and that I regretted offering the study opportunity to her. But just as porn alters the mind, so too does a 21-year-old drooling on your dick. I didn’t know what to say.

“What’s the matter, Professor?” Again with the coyness. “I’m just doing what I’m good for. Sucking Daddy’s dick.”

Alicia aggressively throated my cock, and I almost yelled out when my whole length went into her hungry mouth. She had quite literally learned from professionals. I wondered how many times she had seen this done during the length of the study, and whether I was the first man to experience this new personality of hers. And then she took out her phone and took a selfie with my dick down her throat.

160 hours of porn. That’s all it took to warp Alicia from a good girl into, well, a “good girl.” I found myself saying those words as she kept bobbing in my lap. Was it wrong? Was I taking advantage of a situation I had created? Did it matter when it felt so, so good? I gripped her pigtails and thrusted.