Bloodlines

Garth awoke to a world without pain, white ceiling above as if mocking him with memories of the hospital. This time he was in his own bed, no IV or beeping monitors to be seen or heard, just a jumble of thoughts, feelings and memories. Last night was blurry in his mind, the steep learning curve and all the new impressions crashing into his consciousness.

Looking up at the white ceiling, Garth started organizing his thoughts, trying to make sense of all that had happened, all he had learned, and even more dauntingly, all he had yet to learn. His thoughts, however, kept circling back to a pair of green eyes with tiny orange flecks, looking up at him as he came again and again into her mouth.

Erica had gone from shy and timid to aggressive and forceful, pouncing on him like some predator as she all but attacked his cock the night before. Garth tried to steer his thoughts back to more productive actions, but then his cock started hardening, joining the argument. Sighing, half in resignation at his own hormones, half in pleasure at what was to come, he drew the covers aside, gripping his now rock hard manhood in one hand.

As he started pulling the foreskin back, precum seeped out, making his entire head and soon his hand slick and sticky. He tilted his head back a little, closing his eyes and increasing his pace, replaying last night, only this time focusing on Alyssa and Erica, seeing them anew in his mind. He rapidly approached his climax as he remembered the scene from the restroom, the tight sensation as the head of his cock had pushed past Erica's larynx, going all the way down her throat. He grunted and stiffened, cum shooting from his cock in long, thick ropes, hitting his chest and stomach. He sank back down on his pillow; his mind playing Erica's last words on repeat: "I'll be seeing you!" Garth could not help but wonder at the implication and unspoken promises.

Half an hour later, Garth was walking out of his bathroom, toweling his hair dry. He had to cross his living room to get to his bedroom to dress, and distracted as he was, he completely forgot that he was naked. As he walked across the soft carpet, a flash of something caught his attention, half seen off to the side. He turned quickly, seeing the windows of the apartment across the yard, though he could not see anything; the curtains were drawn back but no one was in sight, the room dark. Shrugging it off, he walked into his bedroom, dropping the towel, searching for fresh clothes.

A few minutes later he was almost dressed, though all his pants were used. He had forgotten all about laundry day the day before. Judging his pants from last night to be clean enough, he pulled them on; entertaining the notion they might be lucky with a smile to himself. As he sat down with a simple breakfast of cereal and coffee, he reached a conclusion: He needed to know more. He quickly finished his breakfast and grabbed his coat; it was time to head for the library.

It turned out The Compact was as much about conspiracy theory as history. Two hours of research and a dozen or so books scattered across his desk had started to form a coherent picture. Though most modern historians agreed it was fiction, the story went pretty much as his uncle had told. The actual descriptions of the powers bestowed on the two brothers varied from source to source, though all agreed it was one mental and one physical. Most sources also noted that this was almost certainly fairytales invented as the stories were passed from person to person over the years; the oldest written source was penned two hundred years after the alleged conflict.

Garth sat back, trying to imagine the effort it had taken to subvert history so thoroughly across centuries. This as of yet nameless organization had apparently gone to great lengths to keep the truth obscured. Quite impressive, he had to admit, and not a little frightening. Luckily he was, if his uncle was to be believed, all but a member already.

Jeff had suggested he also look at the various newspapers, both reputable and those less so, looking up certain dates and events. As he scanned through the archives, another hour spent searching, he quickly saw the schism; there were a number of events that regular newspapers reported as accidents, while the seedier ones saw conspiracy and ill intent. Judging from what he had learned over the last day or so, Garth was inclined to believe the tabloids more, seeing the hand of the organization in the mainstream media.

Regardless of the relative wealth of information he found, he was still unsatisfied; there were too many unanswered questions. What could he do, what were the limits? Was there any practical application besides sexual play? He hoped his uncle's books might help illuminate, though Jeff made it quite clear he was to read the 'official' version first. He felt the need to stretch his legs a little and decided to walk the shelves a bit, looking for books that might be useful.

The library was huge, the biggest in the city by a fair margin, which made sense as it was next to the college and several large research institutions. There were several floors and tens of rows of shelves on each floor. The entrance opened into a massive gallery, open all the way up to the ceiling. Each floor stretched all the way to the back of the huge box-shaped building. This, along with the notoriously malfunctioning air condition led to the popular nickname 'The Oven'. It really did resemble an oven, each floor a baking tray.

Currently Garth was up on the third floor, where books on history, folklore and the likes were. In between the shelves tables were scattered almost at random, some singly, others in groups, making for study areas all around where one could choose to sit alone or several together. Making noise was of course frowned upon.

As he browsed the shelves, he came across one such lonely table, the surface covered in large tomes, a young woman scribbling away in a notebook intently. Garth spotted her through an opening between shelves, seeing her from the side a little way behind. She had long, straw-coloured hair tied back in a ponytail, thin-rimmed glasses resting on her nose. He could not see her face well enough to judge if she was pretty or not, but her nose certainly was! And her body; it was spectacular. She looked more like she was going to the gym than a library; tightly fitting sweatpants covered her shapely legs and a loose tank top showed off her sports bra underneath as it hung from bare shoulders.

Garth studied her for a few minutes, looking up and down her figure, quietly enjoying her shape, wondering if she was a student at his college. Tearing his eyes away, he moved stealthily back along the shelves, resuming his search for something interesting to read. He was not sure why he bothered being careful, though he suspected he on some level felt guilty for ogling her.

He found a few volumes that looked interesting shortly after, bringing them to his own single-table cubby several rows over. As he sat down, he felt a hard lump in his jacket pocket. It turned out to be the box with capsules of powdered St. Johnswort Jeff had given him the night before. An idea forming in his head, Garth smiled as he took a capsule, washing it down with some water.

Marveling at the warmth as it spread through his body, he tapped the power and quested out, again seeing a sea of emotions. Where the night before he had the impression of a sea in full storm, emotions crashing and swirling, today it was a calm lake, shallow and hardly a ripple on the surface. There were a number of people in the library, but they were mostly spread out, emotions subdued. A general sense of Focus and Concentration made up the surface of the lake.

Far off, he could sense a patch of stronger emotions, Lust, Arousal, Desire and what had to be Love, though the complex nature made it harder to read. He got a sense of the direction, judging it to be the single table in the far corner of the fifth floor, commonly referred to as the 'Love Nest'. He smiled and let their emotions feed back to himself, feeling his cock lurch slightly.

Shifting his focus, he quested out again, this time searching on his own floor, both immediately around himself, as well as towards the back. He was not quite sure, but he could only feel one other distinct patch of emotions close by, in the direction of the blonde girl. Reading her patch, he felt the same Focus and Concentration as from pretty much all around, but also Frustration, a hint of Anger and Resentment slowly brewing. He guessed she was working on some task that was not very welcome, though obviously important enough to overcome her aversion to it. Looking closer, he dove deeper into her imagined patch of emotions and found others; Boredom, Lethargy and other similar emotions. Below those again, he found what he was looking for; Lust, Desire, Horniness and Arousal flowed slowly, obviously contained beneath the layers of emotion above, but very much present, as Garth suspected he would find in most young students if he looked close enough.

Struck by inspiration and a need to do something other than read dusty tomes, he tried reaching out with his influence, gripping it tightly and squeezing it like the night before. He found it a lot easier to do today, squeezing until only a tiny trickle seeped forth towards her patch of emotions. Pulling as gently as he could, he enhanced her Curiosity and Adventurousness, leaving her more potent emotions alone for now. He slowly got to his feet and walked towards her cubby, trying to not look like he was sneaking, but very carefully not making any sounds.

As he got closer to her, he saw she was scribbling away more eagerly than before, a look of concentration on her face, what he could see of it at least. He stayed behind her to the left, making sure she would not be seeing him in her peripheral vision, but still able to see her entire side. Being this close, he found it easier to modulate his influence, both reading her and influencing her. He started slowly feeding her Lust and Arousal, pulling and prodding ever so slightly. After a few minutes he could see her start to respond; she was chewing on her pencil, twirling a lock of her hair distractedly and generally fidgeting in her chair.

A few more pulls, Horniness and Desire, and Garth was rewarded with a very obvious pokie as her nipple hardened inside her bra. She was clearly feeling it now, her knees closing and opening slowly, her neck flushed and her breathing noticeably heavier. Pulling more, he watched intently as her right hand put the pencil down started moving along her side. Being on the other side, Garth could not see exactly what her hand was doing, but he imagined she was stroking the side of her breast, maybe even twirling a nipple. Her left hand gripped the table as she leaned a little forward in her chair, chest heaving slightly. Garth looked on, both with his mind and eyes, as her entire being thrummed and responded to his power.

The feeling of power and control was intoxicating, a heady rush as he fed off her emotions, becoming aroused himself. His cock was visibly tenting his pants, straining against the fabric, precum probably making a wet spot. He entertained the idea of pulling his cock out, jerking off there and then. The thought of explaining to the head librarian why her books had cum stains stopped him however. Instead he moved silently up the shelf, finding a hole between books where he could see more of her face and the front of her body. She was indeed very pretty, delicate features and fair skin, no blemishes and very light makeup. He thought she looked vaguely familiar and assumed he had seen her on campus some time, though he had no idea what she was studying or who she was. As he looked at her, his power pulling her emotions constantly, he saw that her right hand had slipped down between her legs, knees tightly pressed together, trapping it there. She was rocking slightly in her chair, both nipples straining against the fabric. Her eyes were closed and mouth slightly open, and though Garth could not hear anything, he could see she was panting.

He pulled more; drawing her emotions into himself and feeding them back through to her, creating a rising wave they both rode. Losing control slowly, Garth watched as her hand slipped down the front of her sweatpants, the muscles in her forearm undulating as her fingers moved, back and forth inside her pants. Garth could almost imagine hearing the wet sounds as her fingers raced in and out between her swollen folds, his need and desire rising even more.

Without conscious thought, he did, something, and power washed from him in a giant wave, grabbing and pulling her emotions up in a cascade of red-hot emotion. A shriek escaped her lips as her left hand jerked, sending books and pencils scattering to the floor, her entire body convulsing. The high-pitched shriek died down to a throaty rattle as she collapsed onto the table, left arm hanging limply while her right was still stuck down the front of her pants.

Garth swayed on his feet, having to grab the shelf for support, lest he fall over. His reserve of herbs was gone, burned away in a flash, leaving him feeling strangely hollow inside and exhausted. He felt a rising surge of panic at the thought of what he had done; his control had been completely gone. Was she hurt? Had he hurt her somehow? His erection shrank immediately, all arousal gone like morning dew beneath the sun, only concern and worry remaining.

He did not approach her however; he wanted to collect his thoughts first. As he stood there, he saw to his great relief that she stirred in her chair a little; at least she was still alive. After a minute or so, she sat bolt upright, a look of panic on her face. She looked around frantically, and Garth ducked hastily to the side, hoping the shelf covered him enough that she did not see him. Shortly after, he heard her chair screech softly as it was pushed back. Garth slowly inched forward, daring to look back at her through the opening between the books. She was on her hands and knees, gathering her scattered writing materials from the floor. Her back was towards him, and there, between the cheeks of her shapely ass, a large wet patch was spreading across her groin, the fabric clearly folding along her lips. Blood flowed back into his cock, all anxiety gone at the intensely erotic sight before him. In a matter of seconds she had her bag packed and was all but running for the door, library books still scattered on the desk and floor.

"It's called surging." Jeff said, somber, stern eyes regarding Garth as he sat across from his uncle. He had gone straight to his uncle's house from the library, not bothering to call and check if he was home, just hoping he would get lucky. One look at the panic in his eyes and Jeff had ushered him inside. "What you just did was incredibly stupid, incredibly dangerous and incredibly lucky." Jeff's tone left no doubt he was less than pleased. "While technically neither assault nor rape, what you did is a large part of the reason rumors about us persist. And while the police could not officially charge you with anything, I am sure they would have some stern words for you had you been seen." Jeff left the implication hanging for a second. "You are quite sure she did not see you?" Garth nodded, subdued by his uncle's obvious displeasure.

"I think you understand the gravity of the situation, but I must insist that you promise me to never, never, do something like this again! Understood?" Garth nodded again, slightly optimistic at what seemed to be a lessening of his uncle's anger. "Surging is a thing all of us can do, regardless of the power, both neuropaths and kinticists. Essentially you consume your herb at a much higher rate, thereby vastly increasing your power. For us neuropaths it is of limited use unless you find you for example need to change someone's emotion quickly and violently. As you have already seen, it can create rather dramatic effects when applied properly to a willing partner." He winked, continuing. "However, it is very much frowned upon to do this without explicit consent. Are we clear?" "Yes uncle." Garth's voice was subdued, though he figured he was in the clear.

"Good. Let's leave that at that then. If you were not seen, no major harm was done. One incident like this will hardly have an effect on our general reputation, such as it is, and I'm quite sure she'll keep this quiet. I can imagine she was embarrassed quite enough as it was." Garth had left out the part about her soiling herself, feeling it did not contribute to the story, but he chuckled a little to himself at the thought. It had been a rush, even though he felt bad as well.

"Tell you what," Jeff said after a few minutes of both nursing their coffee and private thoughts. "I've been thinking about hiring a new shop assistant. Why don't you come work for me? That way we can spend quiet spells working on your control, and some of my repeat customers know what I am and might be willing to let you rehearse on them. Sound good?"

"I'd love to! I don't have any particular job now anyway, the last one did not sit right with me so I quit last week."

"Excellent!" Jeff beamed. Why don't you come by tomorrow? I open at 10, be there a little after, ok?" He scribbled the address on a small note, handing it over. Garth smiled his thanks and finished his coffee. "See you tomorrow morning!"

That night, Garth was sitting in his lounge, watching a movie he had seen a dozen times before, only partly following the action; he knew how it ended anyway, and he watched it mostly because of the lead actress. As one of the mandatory sex scenes in movies of this quality played across the screen, he considered pulling his cock out to jerk off to it; her tits really were quite spectacular. His mind was not quite feeling it, though, and he discarded the notion. He watched her tits bounce as she rode the lead actor, fake moans blaring, when he caught a flash of something light off to his side. Turning he saw that the apartment across from him had the curtains drawn back, but he could not see anyone there. As he was studying the interior of the apartment across, he thought he saw the curtains shift slightly, but he did not see anyone. Shaking his head slightly, he stood up and got another beer from the fridge. When he sat down again, the curtains were closed. Before he could wonder too much at the oddity, the fake orgasm on the screen drew his attention again.

At precisely three past ten the next morning, Garth got off the tram at the stop closest to the address on the note. It was in a seedy part of town, not slum or anything, just not exactly good quality either. It was in an older part of town, a mix of wooden and brick buildings. As he drew closer to the address, he noticed a building that was noticeably better maintained than those around it, the entire front dominated by large blackened windows. A large red neon sign above the entrance read 'Jeff's Place'.

Garth pushed the door open, noticing the heavy wood and iron reinforcements. He was met with a scent of leather, plastic and something akin to disinfectant, an almost clinical smell. The interior was dominated by dark red and black, an expensive looking hardwood floor of a deep brown, polished to a gloss. Just inside the door to the right was the counter, Jeff standing behind it. "Welcome to my place!" He beamed, arms thrusting out as if to draw attention to the interior. Garth let his gaze wander around the shop, noticing row upon row Leather and Latex, dildos and butt plugs, things he could not even begin to guess the use for, and at the far back an entire wall of what had to be pornographic movies. It was a porn shop.

"I prefer the term Erotic Hardware." Jeff said, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "That way I can say I run a hardware store; makes for a lot fewer awkward conversations." He was all but laughing as he said it, the joke apparently an old and well used one. "Pull your chin off the floor and get inside, no point standing in the door!"