This is a new ongoing project, it's going to be in shorter bursts than my long-form stuff, more akin to Lira's Accounts in structure, but in the Mind Control category as opposed to, you know. Aliens.
I have a few chapters finished, a few in-progress, and a couple more planned, but chances are there'll be some gaps between uploads - most of my time is going into a new longer one-off piece that I'm excited about!
TW: mind control; brainwashing; deflowering; questionable consent
-- Part 1 - Ali --
I think I was about six when I realised I was different.
It was in school, and someone stole my favourite pencil, halfway through Mrs. McKenzie's maths class. I was so upset I remember thinking 'I wish they would poop themselves' - revenge fit for a six year old.
The thief, their name lost to memory and class photos, then actually shit themself in the middle of the classroom. I almost feel bad about it now, but at the time I just remember a feeling of... power. And I don't want that to sound malicious. I was a kid, children are stupid, and I'm well adjusted enough to understand what I did.
What I also did, however, was make someone shit themselves. So, what else could I do
Cue the next eighteen years of my life, as I've been trying to figure that out.
By all accounts, I was a quiet boy when I was little. Kept to myself, did my school work, managed to avoid bullies. My parents loved showing me off, like a prize vegetable at the county fair.
What they didn't know was that I was nudging thoughts into people's heads - telling bullies to leave me alone, and they would. Telling teachers to forget to ask for the homework when I hadn't done it, and suddenly I had an extra day to catch up. Stuff like that.
When I hit puberty, I'm sure you can imagine, things started to change. Obviously, hormones hit, and I'll get to that in a minute, but more importantly I got
smarter
. More nuanced. Instead of just giving orders inside my head and watching people follow them, I managed to develop almost a scaling system.
Let me give an example. My dad, fresh in from work one day, was in a foul mood. He went straight to the fridge, and grabbed a beer, ready for his put-me-down for the night. I used my gift, ability, whatever, and see that I'm able to sense his frustration, his anger. I managed to visualise it like a scale, or a slider. 0 to 100. His frustration felt like something around 75, so I just... pulled it down. I looked for his happiness when my mum came in - they'd been having issues. Happiness was at about 15, so I upped it to 30 as she walked in.
It doesn't sound like much, but that was the point. Incremental changes yielded the best results, I find. Plus the more I listened, or senses, or
read
these minds, the better I got. 'Happiness' could be split down into things like, satisfaction, excitement, glee, calm, and even love - or 'adoration', as I call it. It would be wrong to mess with how much someone loves you, so I try not to touch that.
Most things, though, were fair game, so long as they were small touches. This allowed me to, subtly, turn out on top of any situation I felt the need to adjust, without tipping anyone off that I was doing anything... strange. Of course, that's not to say that I've never been curious about what would happen if I read someone as a 0 in something and rammed it up to 100 - of course I've been curious. But something tells me it either wouldn't be safe for the person, or it would cause a scene that might lead to me being implicated or something. I don't know, but I've kept my curiosity at bay. Mostly.
So, eighteen hits, and I'm starting to get interested in people. Boys, girls, it's never been much of a difference for me, but social convention at sixteen meant I'd only had girlfriends at that point, and growing up in a village like mine meant I was, more or less, waiting to go off to Uni to even bother.
Me, my girlfriend Alison - Ali - and a group of our friends had planned a sleepover for her birthday, and were all camping out in the living room of her single mum's massive lakeside cabin. We ate snacks, drank enough coke to drown an elephant, and watched old horror movies to freak ourselves out. I was old enough to drink, as was Ali, but not all of her friends were so we held off. Besides, Ali was planning a night out in town the next weekend to get plastered - this was more about friends, almost as a last night of innocence before adulthood began.
Ali's mum, the gorgeous Shona who I had a massive MILF crush on, came in and hit the lights off around one in the morning. Her hair was dark brown, and fell over her shoulders like a movie star. Her face was kind, and yet she had lips you couldn't help imagining in the most deprived scenarios. Her body was tight, and I knew she ran often, but she had wide hips and a full bust that, in her pyjamas, just radiated sensuality.
I was the only one of us left awake, so she gave me a smile in her nightdress which I will never forget, and headed off to bed.
Ten minutes later, the coke caught up to me and I got up to pee. I kept as quiet as possible so as not to wake anyone, and crept out onto the landing, when I stopped. I stopped because, behind Shona's door, I couldn hear panting, and rustling, and heavy breathing.
Now, I wasn't the most sexually aware eighteen year old, being a gawky bisexual with chronic quietness, but I had a sudden curiosity to find out what was going on, so I tuned into her head, and my fucking world changed in an instant.
Her mind was a smorgasbord of inputs - a million sensations all firing off at once, feeding into and off each other. Fear of being caught, exhilaration, excitement, relaxation, and at the center - pleasure. Her bliss centers were wavering around a 60, ebbing and flowing as everything else shifted into it.
I had an instant hard-on, as it clicked into place what was happening, but even so I had a moment of doubt. Should I leave her alone? Should i be embarrassed, walk away, and pretend it never happened?
I maybe should have, but whatever part of me that was tuned in to her was not my conscience. As such, I decided to have a play.
First, I pulled her embarrassment down from 45 to 25, and all of a sudden I could hear soft moans through the door - the lustful gasps of a woman in her prime bringing herself closer to the edge. Next, I took her exhilaration and pressed on that paddle, sending her from 50 to 60.
I could feel her bliss arching upwards, her body reacting to me as much as to herself. My mind was as lost in her pleasure as she was now, feeling echoes of her that were powerful, giving me an idea of the state she was in.
Think about James,
I told her, putting my name into her head. I felt her pleasure drop naturally - I had to fight with my ego just to believe it was because thinking of her daughter's boyfriend was probably unexpected - and fought against it. I pulled her confusion down, her daring up, and dragged her pleasure up above 70.
'Oh shit,' I heard through the door, a gasp of pleasure and lust brought forward by me and her, her mind's eye thinking of me and I rode her brain to orgasm. 'Oh fuck yes!'
Her pleasure peaked naturally at around 80, and I fought the urge to push it any further. Her aftershocks rode through my mind as I held my image in her head, before I realised that I was standing in the hallway outside her room, my cock hard as steel and the tent in my jogging bottoms slightly damp.
I pushed up her satisfaction and relaxation, hopefully giving her a wonderful night's sleep, and scattered away to the bathroom.
For a while I just sat on the toilet, processing what had just happened. Not only had I caught Shona at a deeply personal moment, one I'm sure she would have been happy her daughter's boyfriend had intruded on, but I had worked my way into her fantasy and played with her mind until she came to the thought of me.
