Common Sense Scepticism

Ireith read the words hovering before her eyes with growing amusement -- partly because reading from the shady webpage in this expensive uptown café was such a delicious contrast in refinement, partly at the numerous misspellings and grammatical errors, but mostly at the very idea that the post was trying to advertise.

!!!GIRLS BEWARE -- U WILL LEEVE UR MAN 4 A WOMAN -- EARN MONEY MINDFUCK CHALENGE!!!

Thikn u love ur man?? Think ur STRAIT?!?! Think AGAIN!!!!

I wil pay 10000 creds 2 NE woman who stay 1 hour with me and not leeve there man!!

>>>>>DM 4 DETAILS<<<<<

How many women even browsed illegal sites like this? That didn't match the image Ireith had in her mind of the creeps who got their nasty little thrills having their brains shuffled by black market telepaths. Mind alteration, when necessary, was available for purchase or on the universal medical service. It was a complicated process that could only be properly performed by certified professionals who had been afforded the opportunity to refine their rare gift in higher education. Certainly, it was unfair that such training was only available to those that could afford the expensive university courses -- Ireith always signed the online petitions for equal access to telepath education when they floated by her on social media -- but such as things were these obviously lower-class telepaths could not possibly be capable of what they claimed.

That was where Ireith came in. She wrote a column in The Defender dedicated to exposing underground practitioners as the laughable frauds they were. She was widely praised for her wry, savage wit, and for revealing a world largely unknown to her readership by actually entering the belly of the beast and trying out the so-called services offered herself, always coming out of the experience unaffected. Some critics questioned the utility of columns that were unlikely to be read by the people who might be taken in by these frauds, claiming that her work was actually cruel freak-show mockery rather than a public service. Others skewered her by claiming her lack of research into the subject of telepathy was evident in the way she wrote about it, explaining in lengthy articles how the dismissive attitude she displayed towards these procedures was dangerous to encourage. Ireith dismissed both of these critiques -- she was demonstrating that a common-sense approach could protect any well-educated person from these criminals. She believed her work was a necessary counter to what she considered to be fearmongering about mind control, telepathic lobotomies, or bank details being lifted straight out of people's thoughts, and she was entertaining her readers with the follies of these usually unintelligent con-artists.

This absurd ad could provide a fresh angle for an article. The very idea of a professional woman of decent stature being converted to some kind of lesbian would provide ample material for stinging laugh-lines, as well as contributing to the sense of illicit scandal that was what initially drew readers to her column. People didn't get to hear about such things very often. Sure, there were colony planets where apparently people would do all sorts -- unnatural sex between people who were clearly biologically incompatible, people claiming to identify as this that or the other-- but here on the home-world it was all lunatic-fringe stuff, at least amongst the well-cultured.

Ireith's parents had taken her to a private telepath facility as soon as she was old enough to make sure there was nothing in her brain that would make her vulnerable to being preyed upon by anything like that. She was grateful that she was ensured a normal life, and now as an adult had campaigned for the service to be made freely available to all members of the public. She had been disgusted when protestors disrupted the opening of the first public facility. It was unbelievable to her that these sad bullies would try to prevent ordinary people from having access to crucial procedures that would give them a better chance of entering polite society -- and all, she assumed, for the novelty of holding on to some extremist ideology. She had been relieved to hear about the arrests that had been made in the following weeks.

Ireith smirked as she re-read the post. The more she thought about it, the more she was certain that this was the ideal subject for her next piece. With slight concentration, she brought up a direct message with the forum-user and watched as her words arranged themselves in the air in front of her. When she was satisfied with what she had written, she sent the message and switched off the holographic display, seeing it disappear from before her eyes. She finished her coffee and went home.

***

"Alright, you wait here in the car. I want you to interview me as soon as I'm out of there." Ireith explained to her husband without looking at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt and made to exit the car.

"Sure, sure. Not like I had anything better to do." Parl grumbled. Ireith sighed and turned back to face him. They had met naturally. They moved in the same social circles; both were up-and-coming opinion writers. Now, however, Parl's career had slowed, and he often seemed resentful of being out earned by his wife.

Ireith leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Come on, don't be sour. You'll get a laugh out of this, I promise." They would often bond over previewing Ireith's articles together, sniggering at her descriptions of the clumsy, foreign thoughts that would try to prod and bruise their way into her mind. Parl gave her a tired smile and a squeeze of aher hand to reassure her he wasn't truly upset. Ireith responded in kind and then she climbed out of the vehicle and took in the building before her.

It was the perfect dilapidated tower-block -- formerly white walls turned grimy yellow and covered in graffiti, broken windows patched with cardboard, stacked bin-bags accumulated on the street in front -- all the trimmings. Ireith's readers would be enchanted. She approached the filthy metal front door. She didn't have the chance to reach out for the old-fashioned button-operated intercom before she was already being buzzed in. The telepath must have been watching her from her window. She shivered in delight; she was already being provided with so much chilling scene-setting for her piece. She stepped inside and looked around. No lift. Thankful that she was wearing gloves, she held onto the banister and climbed up the stairs.

***

She had to put an elbow to the warped door to push her way in, and so her entrance was an undignified stumble, loud with the creaking of the small flat's unadorned floorboards. Her host sat in one of two opposite-facing chairs in the centre of the nearly empty room. She was dressed in a very loose and baggy black jumper and matching bottoms -- same colour, same material, equally shapeless. Her shoulder-length hair was dyed white and styled into a neat bob, framing a face that was regarding Ireith with faint amusement. Ireith cleared her throat.

"Ehem -- I don't suppose you have anywhere to put my coat...?" The woman responded with a movement of her head, indicating the floor. Ireith looked with distaste at the dusty planks at her feet for a moment, then forced a polite smile as she removed the glossy coat and laid it down with care. Underneath she was wearing a tailored suit - close-fitting jacket, shirt with an open lapel, and loose pants that ended before the ankle. Stylish, but simple and unassuming enough that those not in the know wouldn't be able to guess at how expensive it was, Ireith thought. Trying not to think about the grime beneath her polished black flats, she walked to the centre of the room and took the seat opposite the woman.

Ireith waited for her to say something. Painful seconds passed as they looked at one another, Ireith leaning inward a little in expectation while the woman reclined, arms and legs folded. Finally, Ireith took the initiative.

"Um, is there anything I should-?"

The woman shook her head.

"So, I just... For an hour?"

A nod.

"Uh... Ok."

Ireith leaned back, trying to get comfortable in the armless wooden chair. Smothering silence once again filled the room.

She glanced around. There wasn't much to see. A warped old chest of drawers with the woman's personal effects laid on top, and a bare mattress were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. She couldn't even look out the window to occupy herself, as it was too unclean to see through properly -- that was why the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling was on in the middle of the day, bathing the room in weak unnatural light. There were two doors other than the entrance, probably bathroom and kitchen. That was it.

That made the woman the most interesting thing in the room to look at, and Ireith did just that, noting that she hadn't moved a muscle so far. She was incredibly pale, perhaps made to look more so by the heavy black clothing she was wearing. Her dark green eyes had not left Ireith since she'd entered, and the stare was intense although she blinked comfortably. Down from there, past her slightly upturned nose was the sweet pink of her lips, quite a noticeably different shade from the rest of her skin. *She is pretty.* Ireith thought, *A shame about her circumstances. Dress her up right and cure her of her delusions and she'd probably fit in just fine at a good party -- if only she had the opportunity.*

The quiet grew longer, and the two women sat -- one motionless and at ease, the other shifting every now and again, her smile shrinking by the minute. Ireith was growing frustrated; her mind was quiet, and nothing was happening for her to write about. Was this woman even a telepath? She studied the face once again, this time looking for some indication that this was building to something. The woman's eyes, at least, had at last moved down from Ireith's face and to her torso.

This could be something. Ireith thought about the best words to describe this, her first time knowingly being checked out by a woman, a great sleazy detail to tantalise her audience. She found that she only felt curious -- what about her would this woman appreciate, would it be the same as a man? She raised a cautious hand to tug at her collar, running it up and down the open part of the shirt a little, and watched the woman's eyes focus for an instant at where the first button strained just a tad at the pulling. *Fascinating. What else would grab her attention? Perhaps I should have worn a skirt.* But there were still other ways of continuing the experiment.

Still with a little trepidation, Ireith slipped off her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair, revealing that her shirt was short-sleeved underneath. Not done, she stretched in an overstated yawn, arms behind her head, thrusting out her chest towards her subject and pulling her stomach taut. Through lidded eyes she watched the woman respond, first taking in the swell of her breasts against the pricy material, then for a second looking to the half-inch of skin exposed by her untucked shirt, and then back to the breasts. Ireith enjoyed the success of her test. She felt a little naughty -- it was almost as if she was flirting with the woman, using some of the same initial moves she'd used to attract Parl, but this was of course different. Just an experiment for her article.

Apparently, she hadn't tempted the woman into making her move -- there were still no intrusions into her mind as far as she could tell. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to continue the experiment, although she was now at a loss for how to proceed. She wondered what else the woman would like to see, and in her idle thoughts she looked at the telepath's body for reference. *Not much to see there, those things she's wearing would be better suited as tents than clothing.* Ireith found herself annoyed at the hidden information, feeling exposed by comparison. She began to cycle through various body-types in her imagination, wondering which one was underneath all that fabric. Beach photos and fashion magazines ran through her mind - stomachs tight or soft, breasts full and pressed together or slight and grabbable, athletic women, delicate women, women of all shapes and sizes -- and still she was no closer to deciding which type the telepath could be. She shifted again in her chair. It was good thing she had removed her jacket; it was getting warmer in the room.

She pondered what other ways she could use to gather material for her work for a few more minutes before she had an idea. "Do you mind at all if I stretch my legs?" The woman shook her head, still silent, although now it seemed that she was trying to stifle a laugh, perhaps at how restless Ireith was coming across. Ireith was a little affronted -- it was true she'd only been here a short while, but what with sitting in silence in these hard seats it should make sense for her to be a little tense. She stood and began to walk around the room. She was gratified to notice that at last the woman was moving a little, turning her head to follow her visitor around the room. Ireith felt those dark eyes on her as she stretched and strolled about. *Absolutely should have worn something that flattered my legs more.* Turning now to face the wall, her back to the telepath, she put her plan into action.

Looking back over her shoulder, she addressed her silent companion. "Would you like a mint?" The woman responded with a patient shake of the head. Ireith always kept a couple of wrapped mints in the shallow front pockets of her pants. She reached in to take one for herself, and deliberately pulled another one with it. It rolled on the floor in front of her. With her back still directly facing the telepath, she bent over at the waist to retrieve it. It was quite an absurd move really, who would pick something up that way? But Ireith wanted to continue her little experiment, and she knew how good her ass could look in fitted clothing, even business-wear.

She turned back to the rooms other occupant and was pleased to see that her smile had broadened, and her eyes were now openly taking in Ireith's entire body, moving more freely than before. A hot blush of satisfaction crossed Ireith's face. This was a fun experiment, though it still didn't seem to be encouraging the telepath to try any of her mind tricks -- Ireith still felt well in control of her actions, no voices in her mind, no unusual thoughts, nothing. Only thing to do was to press on.

She used the increasing temperature to her advantage. "Whew, it is getting hot in here, isn't it?" Facing the woman now, she undid two buttons on her shirt and again pushed out her chest, this time ostensibly to fan it with her hand. She almost laughed aloud at how her actions resembled seduction clichés, but she knew she could get a reaction this way. She had plentiful cleavage when she wanted to show it off, and she could see that the telepath was affected by it as much as anyone else she'd ever turned the charm on for. The woman had zeroed in on the deep line between her breasts, pupils dilating as her own face flushed like Ireith's, who absorbed the reaction with mischievous satisfaction.

As Ireith enjoyed the impact her body had on her mysterious host, she found her focus brought once again back to that formless black clothing and what it could be covering. How did the woman's own body contrast or match with hers? Could she draw the same stares that Ireith did? She was a little taller than Ireith, that much was apparent, but was she larger altogether? How broad were her shoulders? If they stood facing one another, would the other woman make Ireith feel small, vulnerable? And how did her own breasts compare to Ireith's that she seemed to like so much? As more and more questions came to Ireith she began to feel more and more impatient for the answers. She shook herself mentally; she must have been standing there watching the woman watch her for quite some time now. She came to the decision that the only way to end her awkwardness was to satisfy her curiosity.

"Uh, don't let my presence stop you from getting more comfortable yourself!" She fanned her own face to illustrate what she meant. The words sounded clumsy and strained to Ireith herself, but the woman just nodded and made to take off her top.

The telepath pulled her arms inside the jumper and Ireith was surprised to find her breath catching in anticipation as she began to lift it. *I suppose I really am curious about what she looks like.* She watched as, fraction by fraction, the torso was revealed. First, a firm, fairly muscular stomach, bare for Ireith to see as all that the telepath wore underneath was a sports bra. The arms that lifted the jumper were strong too. She was muscled like a swimmer, not bulky but still imposing. Then, the jumper was over her shoulders and Ireith could see her breasts, large and shapely despite her taut physique. Ireith continued to stare there as the jumper came off over the woman's head. She supposed she found the contrast between the soft parts and the hard... Fascinating. There was a tiny hissing sound of breath through teeth as her lips parted, her face flushing even redder. God, why was it getting so hot in here? The telepath looked back up at her with more amusement than ever.

Caught staring, she started to laugh, stopped herself, began to mouth something -- maybe an apology, although for what she wasn't sure -- stopped again, and then in uncomfortable silence took her seat facing the woman once again. She continued to fan herself as she flashed an awkward smile at her subject, her eyes darting around the room multiple times, each time falling back on the beautiful woman opposite her. The telepath was back in her initial pose, leaning back, arms folded, although now the effect was quite different. Her toned forearms visible, and her boobs high and firm on her chest, Ireith couldn't help but admire her. *My god, what a body. Anyone could appreciate that.*

Ireith's feet turned outward as her thighs clenched together and her palms pressed down in her seat by her sides. Her breathing was getting heavier, and she chewed at her lower lip to stop her voice sounding soft groans from her throat. She was beginning to feel light-headed and dragged her eyes out of the woman's cleavage and up to her face to ask for help, perhaps to crack a window or something, but she was stopped short as their eyes met. *Oh, those eyes are something else. I could stare at them for hours.* She reassessed her earlier take -- the telepath was well beyond pretty, she was stunning.

Perhaps the most gorgeous woman Ireith had ever encountered? She ran through a few comparisons in her mind. Her friends at the beach were quite striking. She knew how hard they'd worked at their bikini-bodies, and it had paid dividends. She thought back on the drone-pics they'd taken together -- they each looked wonderful in their own way, but none as much as the woman opposite her now. She thought about some of the famous women she'd met so far in her career at various functions and events -- their dresses were surely designed to make the best of some of the hottest bodies in the known universe. God, why hadn't she gotten a better look at them while she was with them? The sexiest women alive, right there with her and she hadn't memorised every inch of them that she could? Well, at least she was getting a good view of a perhaps even more beautiful woman now.

Growing more and more uncomfortable, Ireith stood again, despite having sat for only a minute or two. She paced, knowing her every move was being watched, and finding it impossible not to keep turning her head to look back repeatedly. She sat again, looking her subject up and down some more. She stood again, she paced. Spending an hour in this room while the supposed 'telepath' seemed to be doing absolutely nothing was agonising enough, but her appearance was driving Ireith to distraction. It was a curious thing, the way an attractive person could be so magnetic even when Ireith wasn't attracted to her -- couldn't be attracted to her. Seeing her upper body hadn't been enough to end the awkwardness, in fact perhaps it had made the tension worse. Ireith suddenly decided on another way to put an end to her fascination with the woman and relax the atmosphere. She approached the seated telepath, raising a tentative arm.