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AUTHOR'S NOTES
The protagonist of the below story is a man gifted with the ability to control the minds and bodies of others. If you are the sort of person that likes to know the features and limitations of his power, read on. If not, eh, skip to the story.
Comments are welcome and can be addressed to the author via the CONTACT tab on his profile.
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Our nameless protagonist does not know how his power works other than it appears to be genetic and kicks in around puberty. He has had this power for a while now and through his investigations (aided by many who of course do not remember lending their expertise) he has some understanding of how it works but not why.
Our protagonist's abilities:
- allow control of a subject's motor functions, both voluntary (walking, moving head and arms, etc) and autonomic (breathing, heart beating, etc). He does not like to control autonomic functions however due to the high risk of killing the subject by for example forgetting to tell his heart to beat.
- control is executed through commands ('run', 'jump', 'pick up that object', etc). The subject's body seems to be able to work out the details as long as the command is not too vague (so 'hit that man' will work but not 'hit anyone who looks threatening').
- commands are transmitted mentally.
- He can read minds and memories, and can change the intensity of base emotions (fear, anger, lust, etc) but cannot create or change thoughts, switch a subject's emotions or affect complicated emotions (love, jealousy, etc).
- He can create visual, auditory and tactile illusions. These work as normal commands - he tells the subject what to see/hear/feel and the subject's mind works out the details provided the illusion is simple.
- commands can only be given to subjects in direct line of sight. Detection of other minds is possible through walls, etc up to a certain distance, but they cannot be altered unless our protagonist can see the person.
- Commands remain effective until removed by the protagonist, even if the subject is no longer in view.
- Commands can be made to only one subject at a time, but multiple subjects can be controlled by giving commands to one, then the next, then the next, etc.
- larger scale and/or simpler commands work better than fine detailed ones. The protagonist cannot change facial expressions, and attempts to force speech results in meaningless slurring.
The protagonist's only real fear is that someone like him will notice his ability and take it away from him. Consequently any potential activity is investigated and if another 'Talent' such as he is discovered he takes steps to neutralize the danger. He has not yet met a Talent with abilities as strong as his, but he feels sure they are out there, somewhere.
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All characters and events are fictional. Many are illegal, immoral and/or impossible. Never try this in real life. You do not have mental powers.
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Stories of strange happenings eventually led me to a small town by the name of Springville. For once these tales had some truth in them. I traced the source to a local Talent. Nothing too remarkable; like most people who inherit the ability to bend people's perceptions and beliefs the Talent ascribed it to magic. So be it - superstition is a handy way to make sure inexplicable events get ignored, no professional scientist wants to be associated with anything labeled paranormal. I made some minor tweaks to the Talent's abilities, making sure any 'spells' cast would be temporary and limited in range. I've learned not to just crush a Talent's abilities, too noticeable. Better to render them too weak to threaten me while remaining undetected.
Did I mention the Talent this time was a young female? Quite an attractive one at that. A pity that the sort of fun I might have had with her would have broken my 'don't get noticed' rule. I managed to avoid temptation, but it was a seriously frustrated me that took breakfast in a local diner early that morning (carefully tinkering with the mind of a Talent is best done when the target is asleep, so I had been up most of the night).
As I sat in my booth, sipping a scaling hot coffee, voices carried over from the booth behind me. An older couple planning a day of antique hunting. What fun these baby boomers have. My ears pricked up however at the sound of a younger, more petulant voice.
"Urgh, for the thousandth time Mom, I'll be fine."
"I'm sure you will dear, but that doesn't stop me worrying. That's my job."
"Sarah, you remember where the hose is kept, right? In the toolshed?"
"Yes Dad. And yes, I know to use the wide spray setting when washing the precious gnomes."
There was more of this but you get the point. I decided a trip to the bathroom was in order, located behind me such that my journey allowed me to see the people in the booth. Standard elder white middle class couple (there's a factory somewhere that makes them by the truckload). Cute teenage daughter. Long brown hair, brown eyes, soft rounded lips and a button nose, a perfect petite package. Seemed about 19?
A quick rummage through the teenager's mind confirmed she was 19, despite her relatively small frame. Headstrong yet innocent, an enticing combination. Her parents were leaving her alone all day today. She had no plans, expected no visitors. Lucky me.
It was tempting to follow them home when they left, especially as their departure allowed me to drink in the sight of Sarah's small but perfectly formed ass squeezed into blue jeans. But again discretion is my watchword, so I simply took her home address from Sarah's mind and watched them leave. I took my time over the rest of my breakfast, left a generous tip, and strolled over to the house (which I would have googled but annoyingly my cellphone did not seem to function well in this town. No matter, I simply got directions from a local who then immediately forgot he ever talked to me).
By the time I arrived Sarah's parents had already left. Something felt wrong, however. A check on my instruments revealed some buildup of a local reality distortion field. Approaching the house with caution now, I determined the effect was coming from the upper floor.
Entering the house through the unlocked back door I made my way upstairs. I did not see Sarah, but this distortion had to be dealt with first anyway. Business before pleasure. I discovered the source to be a broken garden gnome hidden in a closet in what I assumed to be the parent's bedroom. Evidently it had been a locus for a small distortion event, a common enough occurrence in the vicinity of an untrained Talent. The gnome looked newly broken, no doubt the distortion was caused when its shape was altered and the field force lines became warped.
It took a minute or two to drain the energy from the gnome and dissipate the reality distortion. And now finally I could return to my main task.
Back in the corridor, I heard noises coming from a room downstairs. Reaching with my mind confirmed that the noises were from Sarah, and that no others were in the house (yes, I should have checked that before I came in. My horniness was making me sloppy.)
I went to the top of the stairs and peeked around the corner just as she left the room. I was treated to the sight of the young petite teen in a tight pyjama set. Pink pants hugging the curves of her ass even more than her jeans had before. An orange top showing a flat stomach and small but noticeable chest, especially as she reached up to tie her hair back in a ponytail. Tatty duck slippers.