Chapter Two: Peaches at an Exhibition
After a few months, my affair with Anita had settled down almost into a routine. We had dinner and sex at her place once or twice a week, and I rarely needed to use the Voice any more - okay, yes, I did the first time I asked her to rim me, but after that, she accepted that it was fair that since I licked her asshole every time I wanted to fuck her lovely ass, she should lick mine on those nights as well. And I still had to use the Voice if I was horny during the day and visited her in her office for a rimjob and blowjob, but apart from that, we just carried on like any normal couple hot for each other. She was 37, and much more experienced than me, and some of the things we tried were her idea rather than mine. I was the one who first suggested watching porn as part of our foreplay - without needing to use Voice - and she accepted, as long as she got to pick the first few movies.
We learned a lot about each other's preferences that way: I discovered that she had a weakness for non-violent femdom stuff, and while I made it clear that I wasn't into pegging or water sports or any other BDSM shit, after she started buying lingerie from Honey Birdette and other boutiques there were times when I found myself wearing her crotchless knickers and thongs while she sucked my cock and balls or licked my asshole. The movies also inspired her to get her clit-hood pierced for better cunnilingus, and to buy anal beads (I used Voice to make it clear they were strictly for her ass, not mine) and a queening stool that we took turns sitting on and under.
Anita thought of herself as straight rather than bi, but she didn't mind watching most of the porn I chose that featured threesomes or orgies. She preferred scenes with MILFs with natural breasts rather than those with younger women, though, and balked at watching the fauxcest stepmother/stepdaughter clips I enjoyed. I learned that she had a teenage stepdaughter, Josie, from her marriage, which I figured explained that.
Anyway, the sex was great and fairly regular and I probably should have been satisfied by it, but I was only nineteen and there were just too many good-looking girls on campus: beautiful busty black girls, exquisite Asians, ravishing redheads, gorgeous goths, and others who were more slutty than pretty but still appealing. The greatest temptation, however, was Dianne, one of my first, um, experimental subjects. Getting her to bend over and flash me her knickers had whetted my appetite, and I wondered what else I could get her to do.
A few weeks after I'd discovered my gift, I saw Dianne walking down a corridor again, wearing her usual short skirt and tight top, and once again used the Voice to suggest she turn around and bend over. This time, though, there were two jocks in the corridor behind me, and after bending down, she looked over her shoulder and straightened up quite slowly before brushing past me and walking towards them. Her face was slightly pink, but she was also smiling, and not just sheepishly. It looked as though flashing her knickers at them had turned them on, and I thought that might give me something to work with. The next time I passed her in the corridor, I Voiced, "You enjoy men admiring your ass. Being a cock-teasing exhibitionist makes you horny and happy."
She blushed slightly, but as I turned my head to watch her walk away, she slowed down slightly before turning the corner so I could look for a little longer. When I saw her in one of the cafes later, I walked behind her and voiced, "Spread your legs so people can see your crotch. It turns you on to know men are looking at your cunt and thinking about licking and fucking it. You can feel yourself getting wet and your nipples getting hard," then bought a Coke and sat in a chair which had a good view of the action. Her thighs parted, giving me a nice glimpse of her gusset framed by blonde curls as she sipped her coffee, and she absent-mindedly reached down to hike her short skirt up slightly. When she walked past me on her way out, I Voiced, "Those knickers really aren't sexy enough. Buy new ones. See-through. Crotchless. Or maybe don't wear any at all."
#
I found other uses for the Voice, of course, and not just persuading my tutors to give me slightly better grades. My mother had been trying to quit smoking since the divorce came through, so I used the Voice convince her just how horrible cigarettes tasted. I also tested my ability to use the Voice on crowds by seeing how many students I could get to yawn simultaneously during our psych lectures, eventually scoring close to 100%. Being taught to project in my theatre arts classes does have advantages sometimes.
A few weeks later, when there was a Proud Boys protest near campus, I commanded the marchers to drop their pants and start jerking off. Some balked, dismissing the thought, and some unzipped their jeans and hobbled themselves but didn't remove their boxers, briefs, or (in one case) frilly pink panties. Nearly half of them obeyed, though, and some apparently got so turned on by the sight of all those dicks and asses that they came almost instantly. Some of them came all over the butts and clothes of the men in front of them, which led to a few brawls, while others didn't stop spanking their little monkeys until the cops cuffed them and hauled them into the police vans. Call it my good deed for the day.
Using the Voice to make money was proving more difficult. If I'd been working as a waiter I could have asked for bigger tips, but kitchen hands don't have that option. When I was really short of cash, I sometimes convinced a clerk that I'd paid with a $10 rather than a $1 and keep the change, and occasionally it was a $50 instead of a $5 (I wouldn't have tried pulling the same trick in Canada or overseas, but there are advantages to living in a country where all banknotes are the same size and pretty much the same color), but I was careful not to do this too often or in the same place twice. Partly it was the risk of being caught, but mostly it was because the people who'd be blamed weren't the ones who could afford to have their pay docked or lose their jobs. I had more luck getting into places free, and occasionally visited Curved Space, the strip club down the block from the restaurant, where I used Voice to get in free (feeling a little like Sandman in Brief Lives, though with better hair) and to persuade other clients to tip more heavily than I could so that the women who wrapped their tits around my face would still get well paid.
I particularly liked a busty Hawaiian who called herself Lyla, who did a passable hula dance and had a gorgeous smile, particularly when there was another woman on stage with her and they could pretend to make out. I paid her (real money) for a lap dance once, and that was fun, but four minutes with me fully clothed and only a bare illusion of privacy wasn't really what I was after. I considered using the Voice to ask her to meet me somewhere later, but wasn't that confident yet and decided to wait.
#
Dianne started wearing see-through knickers that let her give people a better view of her gorgeous golden minge when she bent over or spread her legs, but I used the Voice to convince people that this wasn't a cause for concern, that she liked showing off but we couldn't touch her without express permission. A few of the other cheerleaders began following her example, and I'm not completely sure I used the Voice on all of them, but I think it improved morale.
I didn't realize just how strong I'd made Dianne's exhibitionistic streak until I was taking the trash from the restaurant out into the alley one night and saw a woman walking into the employees' entrance of the strip club. The light wasn't good, and her baggy hoodie hid her figure as well as her blonde hair, but I had a quick glimpse of her face and I was sure it was Dianne. I rushed over to the club as soon as I'd clocked off, noticed 'New Dancer' listed on the 'Dancing Now' board, used Voice to get inside free, and for once sat far enough back from the runway that the strippers couldn't see me. She sashayed down the runway two or three sets later, having been introduced as Luna, doing a cheerleading routine in what looked like a Sailor Moon outfit - at least until the end of 'Blue Moon', by which time most of it was on the floor and she was wearing nothing but a silver lame thong, bra, and stripper heels. The bra came off during 'The Great Gig in the Sky' as she came down from the pole, and the thong near the end of 'Bad Moon Rising', when she bent over and turned around to give everyone in the front rows a brief but unobstructed view of her fuckable holes as she picked up the money from the runway before she sashayed off backstage. Call me cowardly, but I decided to split before she emerged from behind the curtain and saw me.
I was confident that I'd gotten away with it until the next day at college, when I saw her walking towards me between the stacks at the library. She turned a corner before she reached me, then reappeared a moment later and came straight towards me down the narrow passage. She stopped about two yards away, turned around and bent over as though picking something up. My jaw must have dropped when I saw that she was naked under her skirt, because as she brushed past me, she popped something into my mouth. Before I could speak, she put a finger to my lips and whispered, "Silence in the library."
I nodded mutely, and waited for her to move her finger, which smelled enticingly of perfume and pussy juice. When she did, I reached into my mouth and pulled out her damp and almost invisible panties. "What -" I began.
"Not here," she said, shaking her head and smiling, then walked away from me and made a beckoning gesture. I stuffed her knickers into my jeans pocket and followed her into the stairwell, and then she pulled me into the disabled toilet, locked the door behind me, and said, "I didn't know you worked at the Jade Gate," she said.
"I don't boast about it," I said. Not that the food isn't good, or at least good value, but I can't exactly take credit for that.
She nodded. "I don't boast about my job, either."