Malcolm sat quietly at his desk. His thoughts lingered on his new "talent." Always a computer geek, he assumed his true talent was in making programs. His mind could think in binary, a fact that excluded him from the social scenes of high school and college. He grew accustomed to his life, knowing exactly what to expect. Then the headaches came.
At first they were annoying. His skull would throb softly, and he would take a pill. Soon it became apparent that his remedy was not working. He'd gone to doctors, but they offered no answers. The day he actually called in to work was the last day he ever experienced a headache and the day his talent blossomed fully.
He had managed to stumble to his mailbox and was just opening it when he saw Shelly. She lived in his apartment complex, and was single. She never went out. She never had any company. But she did get lots of mail. Normally, they were wrapped in plain coverings and bore a generic label. He suspected that she was ordering sex toys online, and his electronic snooping proved him right.
As soon as he saw her, a blast of pain rocked him. She turned to face him... and he felt his mind reach out and grab hers. Or so he thought. What he saw was... bizarre. He saw everything she did. He could tell when she was going to move towards him. He could feel the impulses demanding her heart to beat. He ran back to his apartment, dazed and confused.
It took him nearly a year to actually come to grips with his power. When he did, he had a reasonable hypothesis. It sounded too sci-fi, but it fit the facts. Unlike a true mind control artist, he could not control anyone's emotions or mental state. All he commanded were their physical action and reactions. Even so, this was a great power, one he tested carefully.
His first test subject had been the secretary of the president at work. He always wanted to know what she wore beneath the very conservative dresses that always draped her body. One day, while she was typing up a report, he slid into her office and simply concentrated on her left hand. He saw the paths the impulses took, and redirected them. Within moments, she was unable to move it. She was shocked; he was happier than he'd ever been. After three months, he knew he could make her do anything. He could even stop her heart. This thought chilled him. He could kill easily and safely.
And he didn't have to see her to do it. He'd become so familiar with the feel of her inner self that he could do so when he slept. He trained himself to control his dreams just in case he happened to dream something... horrible.
His first sexual test was almost an accident. She was typing out yet another report when his thoughts wandered to how she pleased herself sexually. His mind filled with images he readily recognized as physical memories. He smiled. Then he had another thought. He could make her finger herself right there. OR... He entered her inner self and commanded her body to remember.
Her eyes widened with something akin to a blend between fright and lust. Her clit began to stiffen, aroused by the 'finger' that slowly rubbed it up and down.
"Are you OK?" he asked innocently. His mind reached out and forced another memory to surface and become 'real.'
"Uh... sure. It's lunch coming back for a repeat performance," she muttered. Her asshole tingled as something began worming its way inside.
"Oh. OK," he said as he returned to his seat.
He continued, forcing her body to physically remember being masturbated. He watched as she tried to hide her impending orgasm. He locked eyes with her, and gave her a comforting smile.
"Our secret," he muttered. She nodded, then reached beneath her dress. He knew she didn't wear panties from his previous experiments. He opened a magazine and pretended to read, all the while marking down the paths of impulses as she fingered herself to climax. She choked back her moan of sexual pleasure, and he made note of that as well. It would help him later on as she brought other women, and some men, to climax.
The men he experimented on were mostly co-workers involved in relationships. He tended to lean towards bringing them to premature climax, his sense of sick justice too twisted to actually tease a male as he did females. There were a few outstanding cases where he caused a hard dick to go limp, but those were cases of petty revenge.
* * * *
After four years he turned in his two weeks notice. The company threw him a very nice party. He gave each person who attended a gift: one mind shattering orgasm. It was the least he could do; they treated him like a human being. That done, he left for Virginia Tech. Home of the Hokies and his Alma Mater.
During the flight from California he took the time to practice his talent. One flight attendant, a very sultry looking brunette, got his special attention. Her body remembered the touch of her lover very well. Almost too well. He couldn't tell, but he figured her lover was female.
