Author's note: If you've read my other stories, you know that BDSM ends up being involved. This is a story I've had for a while and wanted to share that doesn't involve TS/TG/TV elements. It might in the future but the characters haven't shown any indication of that to me yet. Comments and (constructive) criticism are always welcome! Please let me know what you think.
It wasn't an easy change to get used to. On a dark night walking home from a bar where I had struck out time and time again, I was drunk and caught in a horrific thunderstorm. I had been crossing a parking lot at a jog, trying to balance my inebriation level with the need to get home so that I wouldn't end the night just drunk and lonely but soaking wet as well.
Out of nowhere, there was a blinding light and the most intense heat and searing pain that I have ever experienced. I had been struck by lightning. I came to in a hospital. Someone had come by the parking lot and found me, thinking that I was dead. I found out later that there was smoke wafting off of my body.
It had happened at 1:11 in the morning. I knew that since the voltage and current had fried the quartz crystal in my watch. It had actually shattered.
The doctor told me that she was amazed that I was alive. They wanted to keep me for observation for a day or two to make sure that this event hadn't messed with my heart or brain function.
I remember nodding numbly as she talked with me and vaguely recall thinking that she was gorgeous. Redhead, probably about five-foot-four and while it was hard to make out much of what her shape was, nothing could hide the swell of her large breasts.
As I drifted back to sleep there was a half-formed thought wondering what all of these hazy colors I was seeing were. But then there was only darkness.
For some reason I never mentioned it to the docs. I still don't know why not, but I didn't; somehow it didn't seem relevant. As I got back up and moving around, somewhat shaky, I noticed variations as I moved around. And these strange colors seemed to get stronger around electronics. Weird.
Since I didn't say anything and they couldn't find anything wrong with me, they released me the next day with a stern admonishment to call Dr. Claremont (the pretty redhead) if anything, no matter how trivial, seemed out of the ordinary. People surviving lightning strikes isn't a common occurrence.
I went home after stopping at one of my cell phone carrier's stores; the lightning had done quite a number on my poor phone. Thankfully I had backed it up just the night before I was struck. Once I was home I got it restored and noticed that the light blue "field" intensified when my phone had a stronger signal. I started to suspect what was going on but dismissed it as too crazy.
I got a manner of confirmation when I turned its Wi-Fi antenna on and it began emanating a pale yellow glow as well that got much stronger once I had joined it to my home network. There was no blue around the laptop but the same shade of yellow, I noticed, when I plugged the phone into it to restore it from the backup.
I reasoned that I had just picked up the most useless superpower imaginable, short of being able to dry clean someone's clothes. I was a human signal strength meter. Since I worked in IT, it was going to come in very handy but other than making a few small pieces of my professional life less difficult, it was hard to see any great benefits.
Well, no need to get a spandex jumpsuit and mask,
I told myself. That was a relief. The hospital folks had found my ID and my boss's card in my wallet and had been good enough to call them to let them know what had happened. No girlfriend to worry about me or to call work, I was very much still single.
I just went back to work and got on with my life. There were of course all of the times that I had to relate what had happened to coworkers and friends who were amazed that I was even alive, and the glow from all of the networks that I had to get used to, but I pretty much went back to normal.
It was a week or so afterward that I was sitting at one of the longest stoplights in town that I noticed a pink glow around a box on the pole. And I was shocked to discover that I could...well...hear data flowing. That's not how it works, but it's as close as I can describe it. At first it was just sort of a staticky sound but as I sat there, still waiting for the damn light to change already, I started to pick out more and more. I realized that they were being reprogrammed wirelessly as I sat there and that the new programming would end up shortening the wait at this light. Cool!
My ability started to get a whole lot more useful as time went on. I found out that I could basically eavesdrop on the text messages that people were sending to each other, I could hear both sides of any phone conversation if it was happening right next to me as if I was somehow in both places at once. It was that clear.
Even more intriguing, I started to learn what various encryption standards "felt" like and that I could simply read what was being sent and received over any Wi-Fi network that wasn't secured. It made for some interesting times at fast food joints, coffee shops, and other places that advertised free wireless access.
It was amazing what people transmitted across networks without any encryption. And I was starting to find that if I concentrated and thought really hard about it, I could somehow defeat what encryption there was on a given connection. I started out on easy stuff that a smartphone can break in a few seconds but the more I practiced, the better I got. It was scary how quickly it became routine for me to be able to read exactly what they were doing with their banking information.
I was able to refrain from using that for my own gain; I had a good paying job that I enjoyed and the sense of guilt that that would have brought to me would be too much to bear, I knew. But some of the personal stuff that I could read? I'm not prude but some of it was very detailed and frankly graphic. Some of the things that people would text or email to each other or discuss over an instant messenger—in a public place no less—were surprising.
But what I couldn't resist was listening in on what Janine, my next door neighbor, was doing. She wasn't classically pretty at all. In fact, she had a very mousy librarian thing going on. She had a reasonably cute face that she kept hidden behind enormous glasses (think of the ones Dustin Hoffman wore in Tootsie) and her wavy brown hair. I had no idea what her body looked like since she was always wearing clothing that was the opposite of revealing. At least whenever I saw her.
What she did while she was online, though? The first time that I looked I was actually shocked. I had no idea that quiet little Janine next door was a total freak! She was constantly reading and writing erotic fiction with a heavy focus on BDSM—where the woman was in the submissive role—and orgasm control. The amount of porn she watched online was staggering! I didn't even consume that much!
And she was into it all. She'd watch stuff focused on BDSM, oral, anal, interracial, lesbian porn, you name it, she watched it. She stayed away from stuff like golden showers and foot fetishes but just about anything else was apparently fair game.
Fortunately for me, her laptop had a webcam.
And as it turned out, the manufacturer had been stupid. It worked out to my benefit but the light that indicated that the webcam was active was turned on and off through software, not hardware. My ability made bypassing that indicator light child's play. It was just as easy for me to use this ability to record what her webcam and microphone received on my computer.
What a sight it revealed! I had no idea that Janine was hot. But there it was. She was a dead ringer for Janine Turner 20 years earlier. Not the classic model beauty but very pretty nonetheless. She didn't have those awful glasses on so I could finally see her face. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail as well.
The reason for her hair being out of her face was because she was totally nude in front of her laptop, her legs splayed wide while she fingered herself vigorously. While Turner was five-foot-six, my neighbor couldn't be more than five-foot-three. She had wonderfully smooth skin, breasts that looked to be at least a C-cup if not a D, and what looked like an amazing figure. It was hard to tell with her contorted like that.
I couldn't tell what her nipples looked like, since they had a pair of clover clamps on them. Those clamps were tugging at them constantly since their chains were attached to the strap of the ball gag that Janine had strapped in her mouth. She had leather cuffs buckled around her wrists and ankles as well. A quick check of her PC revealed that I was watching her while she was watching a lesbian BDSM film, one of a series in which a domme would tie up and end up forcing her to have orgasm after orgasm.
Janine wasn't even really watching anymore, she was just moaning and fingering herself. I was so thankful that I was recording this on my own computer, since it was possibly one of the hottest things I had ever seen.
Before I knew it I was masturbating right along with her. I heard her laptop's speakers replicate the sound of the submissive actress's screams when she was forced to climax, and then I got to watch Janine come with her. Her body shuddered, she involuntarily clenched her thighs around her hands that continued to work at a furious pace. Her back arched and she threw her head back. That evoked a scream that I could have sworn I heard through the wall but was probably just my imagination as the clamps on her nipples bit viciously. She shuddered, whimpered, and shook for several seconds, then sat back in the chair, limp.
I left the cam running while I went to go get something to clean up the explosion of sperm that had coated my belly. I came almost as hard as Janine had. I'm not normally the voyeur type, it had just been watching Janine work herself over that way. I looked at the title that was still playing on her laptop and it was one of my personal favorites, too.
Now my mind was filled with questions. What do I do now? I was incredibly interested in getting to know her now that I had some idea of what a freak she was. But how? That was the next one and I suspected that whatever answer I gave would have a huge effect on the results. I could just send her a completely anonymous text message that told her I know her dirty little secret but that was pretty creepy and she would most likely be terrified. I didn't want that.
The problem was that on the rare occasion that I did see her in the hallway of our apartment building, she would glance my way without making eye contact, flash a tiny, polite but screamingly timid smile, and then hunch her shoulders down and rush past. It was as if she was terrified of making any normal social contact.
So...how was I going to get a conversation started? We would have to start talking before anything else could happen unless I wanted to be a total asshole. Which I didn't. I would have to meet up with her in the hallway for starters. Getting the timing on that was easy, I had figured out how to listen for a certain cell phone a few days before. And I could just take a peek at her phone's front-facing camera and listen in on the webcam to find out if she was getting ready to leave.
So that was easy. But aside from our tastes in sexual activities, did we even have anything in common? A quick look at her browsing history revealed that she was somewhat nerdy and enjoyed several of the sci-fi shows that I did. Well, there was something.
While she hadn't turned it on in a while, about twenty minutes after she came like a hurricane, a Janine without any cuffs, gags, or clamps fired up her game console, which of course connected to her Wi-Fi network. She liked some of the same games that I did, too.
Okay. Not too bad. In fact I was rapidly developing a crush on her even though we had barely ever said more than hello to each other. But the dumpy clothes she wore apparently were hiding an amazing body to boot. It was all down to timing, then.
