When I was nineteen years old, I still wasn't fully comfortable using my ability to control minds. I had tested it out and pushed some boundaries here and there. It was exhilarating to make people obey me with just a simple command. Still, I was scared to try to really push someone. I just gave people little nudges here and there to get something I wanted. One time I told Kyle, the owner of the restaurant where I worked, to give me a modest raise. He didn't even blink. He just agreed and we moved on, except I was making a few more dollars an hour.
After that I kept thinking that I should have pushed for more. I probably could have asked for a hundred dollars an hour and he would have done it without a second thought. I couldn't get the question out of my mind. How much could I get away with? The answer, I learned, is that I can get away with anything.
The first time I really flexed my ability to dominate someone was when a customer pissed me off. John was a regular in the restaurant and he was always a huge prick. He came in several times a week, almost always on a business lunch with clients. Since he was a big shot executive who racked up huge bills, Kyle always had them seated in a special room out back where John could have some privacy. After the first time I served him, John asked Kyle that I always get his table. I think having a hot, young waitress put his clients in a good mood, but I hated serving them. They were always rude and condescending to me. John's only saving grace was that he was a generous tipper. I got the impression from the car he drove and the way he dressed that he had done quite well for himself.
On this particular day, John had brought in a client, this guy named Wayne Forster, who shamelessly ogled me every time I came over to their table. I think John picked up on that and decided to score some easy points with Wayne by smacking my ass and saying "Thanks, Sweetheart," when I came over to refill their drinks. In the moment, I didn't even say anything to him. I just walked away feeling small and pathetic for not standing up for myself.
I stood out back, trying to gather myself and hold back my tears. Ally, one of the other girls that worked there came over to check on me. I told her what had happened. She said she wouldn't blame me if I threw his drink at him and walked out. That planted the seed of an idea for me. I thanked Ally and told her I would be fine. I shook off the sad feelings and the tears that had begun to gather despite my efforts.
Fuck that fucking prick, I thought. The queasy feeling in my stomach was replaced with a rage that started to boil inside me. I had all this power. I could make John get down on his knees and beg for my forgiveness. John was still a gross, old man, but the thought excited me. On a whim, I decided I had no reason to take their abuse. Instead of filling up the glasses with water, I poured two orange sodas and marched back to the table.
Neither of them looked up when I came over. Wayne was regaling John with a charming story about the sugar baby he had back home in Cincinnati. He was saying how he had this girl available to fuck him whenever he wanted and all he had to do was pay her rent and occasionally buy her a designer bag. I set the sodas down on the table in front of them and stood back. John gestured at the glasses, "What the fuck is this? Go get us ice water like I asked."
I kept a pleasant smile plastered on my face even though I was fuming. "That's orange soda, John. Both of you, pick up the glasses."
They both reached out and picked up the sodas. I felt such a thrill at making these men obey me. "Now, dump it on your head," I ordered.
Without even hesitating, both men poured the glasses out on their heads. They leapt out of their chairs, shocked like someone had thrown the soda on them even though they had done it themselves.
"Sophie! What the fuck," John exclaimed.
"John, what is this?" Wayne yelled.
"Both of you, be quiet," I commanded. They instantly clammed up. "Look at what a mess you boys made. Why did you go and do that?"
"Because you told us to..." Wayne said, sounding like he couldn't make sense of why that was true.
I turned on him, acting totally innocent, "Do you always do whatever a pretty girl tells you to?"
"I...uh...no?" He sputtered.
"Well, let's find out." I moved in closer and whispered in his ear. "This meeting is over. Why don't you go home now?"
"Ok, Sophie," He muttered as he stood up and started for the door.
"Oh and Wayne?" He stopped and turned to me. In that moment, I saw for the first time how absolutely pathetic men were compared to the power I had over them. I had humiliated him and he was still helpless and obedient.
"Leave your car here."
Wayne looked like he didn't know how to react. Of course he would leave it. He didn't have a choice now. Still, he was raging at the injustice of it. "I live in Cincinnati!" He blustered.
"Ooh, that's a long walk, Wayne," I said feigning sympathy. "That might take a couple days. You better get going." Completely deflated and covered in sticky orange soda stains, Wayne shuffled out of the room.
"Sophie, you can't do that." John interjected.
I turned on him. "I can't do what, exactly?" I gave him my best withering look, begging him to explain what I had just done to him and his very important business client. I'll admit it was turning me on a little bit treating these men like this.
He looked very unsure of what exactly I had done. "You can't make him leave like that."
"I didn't make him do anything, did I, John?"
"You did something! You made him go home," John finished lamely.
"Do you think I can make anyone do anything just by telling them to?"
