This is part two of an 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.
TW: mind control; brainwashing; mind manipulation;
-- Part 2 - Hannah--
It all felt very... wrong. Split down the middle.
These two parts of me wanted very different things. The use of my powers had been, for the longest time, simply a way for me to -
under the radar -
shift things in my favour. After what I had done with - to - Ali... I couldn't pretend that was the case anymore.
I couldn't pretend the urge hadn't existed before, of course. The...
pressure
of hormonal influence was always present in some way or another. But, the difference between being a horny teenager and swallowing the urge to make a girl flash you - which was the sort of thing I could easily cast aside as 'replaceable by porn so you don't have to assault people', and being with Ali - where there was, in one way or another, a reciprocated attraction... it was different.
Wasn't it?
There's no way to admit that I used my abilities on her, controlled her, in a way that I'd never done before. It was a ground-breaking moment for me. But it wasn't
just
me.
Ali
was what was new. She was there, excited and eager and
horny
. Any time before, when an 'urge' had presented itself, it was easy to repress, or swallow, because it would have been me
imposing
an idea on someone. Ali already had the idea - I just brought it to the surface.
Maybe I was just blaming her. Using her apparent enjoyment of my manipulations to justify what I had done. To make me feel better.
Although, if she
had
enjoyed it, was it so bad?
The questions haunted me. We stayed together for about four months after that. Our sex life, once started with such an event, quickly blossomed into something quite lovely, though I managed to avoid 'writing' her ever again. I would read her, use my gift to see what she liked, and what got her going - turns out she was naturally quite submissive in bed - and I used this to both keep her happy, and slowly allow us to drift.
Guilt was a heavy thing, and even though I could tell myself as much as possible that Ali was eager to take part, a large part of me couldn't shake the feeling that it was just, fundamentally
wrong
. That I had done things to her no one else could. As a relationship, it was tainted. It had to end.
By the time our exams came around, and we had all applied for our Uni places and we're ready to move away, we were all but over. Once the break was official, I got rid of all of her adjustments (cognition wasn't a problem now that exams were over), and decided to just let her get on with life.
One thing I hadn't foreseen, however, was that between getting into university and actually
going
there, I had a summer to kill, in a village where I knew I would only come back to for Christmas after leaving. Plus, after going from 3-4 sex sessions a week to nothing, my libido was a raging hormonal bastard, giving me the urge to stop and stare at every woman in view. I mean, I had had those urges for years now, but now I had passed that line with Ali... it was tempting.
To do
more
.
Half of these, because of the size of Glenkiln being as it was, were people I either had known since birth, or recognised as tourists, here for the lakes and fell walking. Not a lot of realistic choices, but just enough eye candy to wind me up. I never did end up acting on my urges of Ms. Rodham, or of monster-cock Dan - half out of my natural timidness, and half out of pre-emptive guilt.
Speaking of tourists, to get by until September I ended up getting a job in the shop that was attached to the boating house. People would come to rent a paddle boat, or buy a ticket on the steamer, and we try and sell them overpriced chicken tikka masala sandwiches, bad teas and offers, and novelty plush squirrels.
It was just about the only place in the village that allowed me to use my gift to squeeze an extra quid out of people on a tip, upping their generosity when I smiled and served them, pausing after I handed them their coffee-flavoured milk water.
Oh, and do you remember the 'goth slut' I talked about during my episode with Ali? Well, now she's the assistant manager, and my direct boss, and without a little bump of 'happy' every time she sees me I think she would have fired me by now - she fucking hated me. And with decent reason, I guess; I got a waaay disproportionate amount of tips because of my gift, and she'd complained that 'everyone seems to love you'. I guess it's a 21st century goth thing.
Her name was Hannah, and while she might not have been, as I so crudely called her,
a slut
, she sure knew how to wear herself. She had a tight figure, and she was almost as tall as me, just under six foot. Her hair, naturally, was jet black and her nails painted either blood red or black - never anything else.
Oh, and the thing that makes my whole 'resisting temptation' idea strain at the edges? Her tits. She has the most
amazing
tits I have ever seen on a girl, at least in real life. She's a D-cup, at least, but they're amazingly firm. I've seen her a few times after a 'late night at Matt's' (her equally goth boyfriend), where she came in without a bra on. Don't call me a perv, but between the lack of a bra clip bumping through the awful navy-blue polos we both wear, and her rock-solid nipples poking up whenever the door opens and a rush of cool air blows in, I could tell.