Telekinesis Ch 02

Things weren't going well for me in my department. Totally on me. I was spending plenty of time in the lab, that wasn't the problem. It was that I was spending all my lab time on my own experiments. The nature of the force I was able to produce was fascinating but continued to be a mystery. I could move a variety of materials if the particle was small enough, and my ability was slowly growing. Metal particles were strange, not doing what I expected. I found that tiny biologicals, specs of herbs from a salad, for example, were easier. I was able, once, to move a fruit fly I found hovering over some rotting food (someone's lunch in the recycling, not a

Drosophila

experiment). House flies were giant beasts that could ignore me.

The breakthrough happened when I finally understood that it was much easier to make something vibrate rather than just move it. I needed to find the resonant frequency, but when I did even comparatively large objects, say a sesame seed, would dance. That's what I'd done instinctively that drove Samantha, Donna, and the others insane. I couldn't force a house fly to go this way or that, but if I found its resonance I could make it drop out of the air. Insects don't fly like airliners. A fly's wing movements have to be very precisely synced with its body and the micro-currents. A tiny disturbance was enough.

A clitoris is of course much bigger, but that made it a bigger target and I only had to apply my ability to the surface with all those nerve endings.

Not that it really took much with Sam. She was always on the edge, seemed to have been born that way. She liked her fucking and sucking a bit rough, maybe more than a bit, which taught me something new about myself: I liked being rough with her. I liked taking control, teasing and torturing her, and making her come harder than she thought she could take. To which she responded very positively. Doggy was her preferred position, hair pulling was standard operating procedure, and a few hard ass slaps made her beg for more, not less.

And there was something else she taught me. I thought I'd learned all her buttons and how to press them for maximum effect. But one night at her place while she was kneeling between my legs and doing an especially enthusiastic job of getting me ready for you-know-what she stopped. She gave me what for her was a soulful look. It wasn't like her to start a relationship talk, and definitely not almost at the moment when she should be begging me to, for example, "Plug my fuckhole with your magic meat!" or "Use me like a cheap whore!" or the inimitable "Destroy me with your fucking cock, just kill me!"

Now she seemed almost contemplative. She licked my cockhead as if she weren't sure what flavor ice cream cone she'd just selected. Finally she looked up at me and said, "I— I need you to d-do something."

"Of course. Anything."

"Would you be willing— I mean, can you— God, I'm so ashamed. I'm so fucked up." She lowered her head, which put her face in my pubic hair.

"Just tell me," I tried. "You know anything goes with us. It's sex, isn't it?" I was beginning to understand her.

"I just . . ." she said into my crotch, "Just . . ." and she began mouthing one of my balls. That momentarily ended the conversation for both of us. My legs involuntarily clamped her head. "It's just— oh God," and my other ball disappeared between her lips. Finally she sat back on her legs and looked up at me.

"I need to get my ass fucked."

More fellatio, really affectionate fellatio, at least compared to her usual hungry sucking. I was actually a bit shocked. I'd thought about it, like every guy, and a few times considered how I would, let's say, convince one of my conquests to give me that pleasure. But I'd never actually done it.

She must have felt my reaction. Switching back to nympho mode, with an evil smile she said, "Wanna fuck my sweet ass?" She wiggled her rear end while deliberately doing that thing with her tongue that drove me crazy, then said softly, almost endearingly, in a bit of a girly voice, "If this cock can do to my ass what it does to my cunt and my mouth . . ."

We proceeded into her bedroom. Normally we didn't fuck there because she couldn't wait and we ended up fucking in her living room or kitchen, or up against the front door. It was clear that she'd prepared for this event. A towel and a small bottle sat on the nightstand.

She took care of everything. A bit more fellatio, totally unnecessary, then she spread some kind of lube on my cock. She presented herself doggy style. Her ass was already shiny and I understood she'd decided on this even before I'd arrived. "Do me, please." No more dirty talk.

So I did. "Slowly, slowly." Then, "More lube." Then, "Ah, yes, now, now."

It was a new experience for me on many levels. Physically she was so tight I thought I might lose my erection just from blood constriction. But the pure, obscene ego gratification of being invited into this woman's anus could not be denied, and I quickly found a spot, after a bit more lube, all the way into her as far as I could reach, where her sphincter clamping me around the base of my cock and my tip rubbing something— I didn't know what— up inside her threatened to overwhelm my willpower and end her pleasure too soon.

Was it pleasure? She continued to beg for more, but only in between grunts and groans of double-edged emotional content. Except definitely intense. I was able eventually to regain my composure and tried using my ability on her ass, a new experiment for me. She keened and blubbered in response. I knew I was onto something special. I rearranged her into a spread leg position where I could do a scissors thing and go even deeper into her. I just held myself there, wiggling a bit to make sure she didn't forget she had a swollen phallus up her butthole, and really put some TK energy into her, all over down there. Under other circumstances I would have thought she was having an epileptic trauma, her limbs spastically quivered so much. Maybe I was being cruel, but she did like it rough and she had asked for it, so I reached around and got a finger on her clit and did the electro-erotic sparky thing to it.

Wow, did that do it! She bucked and contorted as if she'd been shot. I pounded her ass then, knowing she was beyond pleasure and pain, and just did her again and again until she was all used up and could only make pathetic little jerks at each hit. Somewhere during the pounding I came, I'm not sure quite when. It was all an orgasmic blur for both of us.

I pulled out, leaving her in drowned sailor position again, and cleaned myself up in her shower. Back in bed I relaxed, enjoying the afterglow and the memory. She was out quite a while. I must have napped also because I woke to the very pleasant sensation of soft lips and moist tongue on my cock.

"I never let him do that," she said, meaning the ex-ex and meaning anal, between sucks that were really quite adorable.

"You are the best ever," she added, as she took me back up to the edge of a second orgasm. "You are a fucking stud among studs and you can shove your fucking sword up my shithole any time, any time." Her revived potty-mouth made me smile. She was happy.

And finally, "I knew you would be fabulous," and then she sucked me off, making sure that every drop of fluid my body had left ended up inside her. She actually cuddled with me after, I think for the first time.

I learned more about my abilities with Fiona. By chance one evening I happened on a gallery opening. She was the featured artist, a painter, doing portraits with a heavy abstract impressionist influence. Not my thing but I liked her use of color, which was jarring, almost violent. And even more I liked her cheeks, big and dimpled, especially when she smiled. So I made her smile a lot.

She said she found me fascinating and wanted to paint me. We met the next day at her studio. She did get some painting done and was able to rough out some poses. But of course my special skill was getting her more and more turned on and she decided I should pose nude. She positioned my limbs herself and found, surprise, that she couldn't keep her hands off me. I kept staring at those dimpled cheeks and fantasizing and got hard. Of course she wanted to paint me that way. There was, however, a problem: in her expert aesthetic judgment I wasn't quite hard enough. So I got to enjoy those super cute cheeks from the inside, where they were even more delectable. After that it was sketch, suck, brush, lick, color, re-suck, etc. until neither of us could take it anymore and we ended up on the floor amid props and jars and rags and I got to see what those dimples did when she was coming. Which I helped her do in a series of peaks during a cowgirl that left her collapsed on top of me.

That was fun, learning that Sam wasn't the only woman that can come endlessly, or at least until physical exhaustion stops her. But the important new ability I learned happened during another "sitting", as she called our sessions (though I was always either posing or lying on the floor while she rode me) when her boyfriend showed up.

She hadn't got around to telling me about him, nor that he was quite large and quite jealous. He popped by one afternoon without knocking to find his gf kneeling in front of some naked guy (me) "staging" (her term) my equipment.

I froze. I thought at first he was a burglar or something worse. She stood up and started talking, pure nonsense. Did I mention she was naked too? She'd taken to painting naked, at least while I was around. She said she felt freer and more creative that way. I totally agreed. She had a Marilyn Monroe type of curvaceous body, gorgeous breasts, and her ample bottom cheeks were maybe even more luscious than the ones that had first attracted me.

He headed straight toward me, brushing her off, and I thought I was about to get colored black and blue and red, when he stopped dead and gaped around the room as if he'd just lost his favorite dog. I was staring hard at him and realized I'd been concentrating and my fear had caused me to instinctively make his pupils contract. He was no longer paying attention to me. Fiona took his hand and babbled at him, making up some BS about needing male figures for a new work. When he looked at her I switched my ability to full dilate to get him to focus only on her. Which wasn't difficult in any case, given her sartorial status, or lack thereof.

I picked up my clothes and backed out of the studio. Annoyed that I wasn't going to enjoy spray painting the insides of her pussy with the white pigment from my tube, I dinked him in the occipital. He sat down, holding his head. I split. Probably what he thought had just happened to his skull.

That was the first time I'd ever done anything with a man. I'd never wanted to try it. Using my ability on a person is a bit intimate, like touching. I'm not into guys in that way. But I'd just learned an effective self-defense move, way better than judo or karate.

Fiona was fun and educational, the sex was delicious, but I hadn't abandoned Samantha. Sex with her was addictive and brought out a part of me I hadn't realized I had, a desire to control and manipulate and use a woman. Or maybe having women just throw themselves at me was getting a bit boring.

I knew Sam had those tendencies. She liked her sex a bit rough. Actually maybe more than a bit. She liked to have her hair pulled while I fucked her from behind. Okay, I'd done that to other women and they'd liked it. But with Sam I could pull her head back so far her potty mouth choked on her insults. "You fuck— fuck— make me, uhh!" And she liked having her ass slapped at the same time. I did my best but it's hard to spank a woman while you're doggy fucking her. Any time I pulled out to give her a big smack she was instantly insulting/begging/commanding me to get back in so I never had time to really do her ass the way it deserved. More on this later.

She also liked when I fucked her face. Maybe 'like' is the wrong word. It definitely did something to her that she wanted and even needed, but the emotions I saw on her face were complex. I usually did it to her standing with her on her knees. I'd grab two fistfuls of her hair and push myself into her mouth then slowly down into her gullet. I could watch her try to hold her hands back and let me make her gag until she'd push on my thighs and I would relent. "Your fucker! You are the motherfucking fucker," she might say after she caught her breath. She would even challenge me with something like, "Is that the best you can do, you fucking short-dicked wimp! You should just give up and— mmph!" That sort of dirty talk would turn me on even more and I wouldn't stop until her nose was in my pubic hair and she was slapping my thighs to get free. Then I would immediately stuff my slick and very stiff cock up her pussy all the way and pound her into the usual intense series of orgasms. She loved when I grabbed her arms and bent her legs so I could fuck her pussy really deep and there was no way she could get out of it. Forced orgasm was her ultimate. After being forced in other obscene ways was the ultimate of ultimates.

When I once said I was a bit worried about what I was doing to her she told me, "I was really fucked up about sex when I was a teenager. Okay, yeah, yeah," she continued, seeing my reaction, "I'm still kind of fucked up, I get that, but in a better way. And at least I'm getting laid."

Her religious family had taught her that sex was bad, bad, bad, even telling her she could die from it. "But one night in college I was drunk and super horny and I let some guy fuck me. I realized some things then. First, I wasn't going to die. Second, sex is great, even with all those college boys that had no idea what to do with a dick. And most of all, I learned that all those years when I was so frustrated that I used to scream into my pillow at night— it was all because I was so fucking horny. I'm a slut."

Still, way down deep the guilt remained. "But when you're doing that thing to me I know I'm a slut, I know it in my bones. And throat. It's very freeing."

Remember those BOFI clients? She still had them and made good money off them, but still had no respect for them. One day she texted me during an all day session with them. You can't imagine the insults that only my eyes were privileged to receive. I decided she needed some fun so I drove to the BOFI offices, slipped in by tailgating through the badged employee entrance, and found my way to the door of the conference room where she was trying not to go nuclear in front of a group of them arguing about, "The stupidest fucking micro-shit non-problem you could never imagine because no one else is such a fucking idiot." Or texts to that effect.

I texted her that I was outside the room right now and ordered her to come out and blow me. She texted back, "?" but she did excuse herself and come out, surprised and pleased to find me there. I led her to an empty office I'd spied, locked the door behind us, pushed her to her knees, and pulled out my cock.

"You are the fucker's fucker," she said, and pulled me into her, taking my butt cheeks in both hands to show what she wanted. I grabbed her by the hair and just fucked her mouth, into her enough to make her gag but not all the way. I was thinking this needed to be a quickie. That wasn't enough for my Sammy Slut. It was painful the way she pinched my cheeks as she urged me forward. I thought

fuck it

and forced myself all the way in and held myself there while she gagged and choked. I pulled slowly out so she could take a few breaths then pushed back in, and this time I zapped her pussy, hard. She loved my "magic wand" as she called it, but didn't want magic while I was forcing her. She didn't want the pleasure, that's not what expunged the guilt. So I always waited until the fucking to zap her. But I made a special exception this time.

She squealed and grabbed my legs weakly but her arms were no longer working right. I zapped her again, at least as hard, then again, no mercy. When she started coming I could feel her throat soften and I gently withdrew enough that she could breathe. She hummed and came and sucked and came and squealed and came again until I couldn't hold out anymore and I filled her mouth with her favorite snack.

She rested her head against my leg for a minute while she recovered and caught her breath. When she stood finally she was quite a mess. Her hair was a mass of tangles from my hands, tears streaked through make up, lip gloss was smeared. Luckily she'd worn a skirt. Always the gentleman, I offered a handkerchief for her to sop up the juice that was running down her leg. "Fuck you," she whispered in my ear with a little kiss, definitely the sweetest FY that had ever been directed my way, and left the office.

She told me later she made a quick stop in the ladies room to clean up a little, but there was no way to disguise her hot cheeks and hastily finger-combed hair, nor how hoarse her voice had suddenly become. She took advantage of their shock to push through some design improvements they'd been balking at then quickly ended the meeting. "Win win day," she texted me.

But my breakthrough with Fiona's bf had given me an idea. I knew what Sam wanted and I wanted to give it to her. Now I thought I had a way to incapacitate her, get control, and do it. It took a bit of preparation but I knew it would be worth it even though it was scary to think about what I was going to do.

First I snuck into her apartment while she was at work one afternoon. Her 2nd story flat had a back door that led down a stairway to the yard. I'd seen her one evening use a spare key to it that was hidden under a cinder block.

Then I prepped her bedroom. There was equipment I needed to set up and I needed to clear a spot in her closet to hide (she wasn't the neatest person you've ever met). Then I waited.

We had a date scheduled that evening and I knew she'd come home to get ready. When I heard the front door open I slipped into the closet with the door ajar. After longer than I thought possible she walked through her bedroom, past the closet and me, and into the bathroom, where she turned on the shower. I let her take her shower, but I made sure I was stimulating her. I crept out of the closet so I could keep an eye on her through the steamy glass to make sure she didn't try to masturbate to orgasm. I wanted her horny. I also played with dilation and contraction, just to screw with her attention and keep her distracted.

When she stepped out of the shower I was about to spring at her with a hood I'd brought, but she pulled the towel off its rack and put it to her face. I contracted her as fiercely as I could. That was the trick. She stood there in the middle of her small bathroom with a towel over her head, no doubt wondering what she was doing and where she was, her ability to focus thwarted by her assaulted nervous system. Now was the moment to grab her.

But I was distracted by that cute ass I'd recently enjoyed and lost control of her (I wasn't nearly as skilled back then). She saw me in the mirror. "Ah! Jesus fucking Christ! What are you doing here?"

I had to think fast. I switched to dilation, as hard as I could. She turned and went from shocked to shocked and transfixed. She was so into me. I couldn't go through with my original plan. That was okay. I had a better one. I spun her around so she could keep looking at me in the mirror and I could keep her attention pinned on me. "Put your hands behind your back."

She smiled her naughty smile. I smiled back. She did as I'd told her and I put her wrists in a pair of handcuffs I'd bought at a kink store along with the hood. "Mm. Can I just dry off a sec— what the—"

I pushed the hood over her head. I kept pinning her even though she couldn't see, thinking she'd find something else to concentrate on. Such as being blind and handcuffed. I grabbed the back of her neck and her wrists and shoved her into the bedroom, where I pushed her down onto the bed.