My thanks to MormonJack for edits and crits.
Chapter 6
In spite of her ambiguity regarding what I was doing to her brain, Mingyu began an experimental program (purely in the interest of scientific inquiry, she assured me) to see whether she could behavior-mod me (her term) to increase my power.
And we could! "Ears," she might say, "More clit. You're forgetting my tits. Ah, that's better." And on and on like that. Her goals were not entirely altruistic, of course, but she did let me edge her way beyond what I thought she could take. Plus, she insisted that I do it all without physically touching her. It was with mixed feelings that I realized the irony in my evolving situation, that a subject I'd behavior-modded was now doing it to me.
She was right about me. I could also be nasty. I took to edging her constantly, even in public. Especially in public. Watching her trying to keep it together, say, in a budget negotiation with her management, was great fun. She stared me daggers but couldn't bring herself to tell me to stop. She once, and only once, had me fuck her to orgasm without using any power, as a control, she said. She achieved orgasm, but she became worried after that. Normal orgasms didn't make it for her. As her machine had shown, she really was thoroughly addicted.
Both my absolute power to move matter and also my dexterity in manipulating that matter improved. Not the least, matter in the form of female nerve endings. Her discipline and perseverance were rewarded during another series of "training sessions" she had me do. After an evening of edging, we always had to adjourn from the lab to my place or hers where she had me tactilely shoot as much TK into her as possible. Her personal favorite was alternating cowgirl and 69. Already, as a result of her training, I'd found it difficult to control my power when I touched someone. I had to be careful even when shaking hands. My most sensitive body parts were becoming more and more difficult to control, which she took advantage of. Just feeling her sit on my erection was enough to trigger a spike into her that set off an instant orgasm. She couldn't get enough of that.
As to the physics and physiology behind my abilities, she had a theory: it's known that brains produce small but measurable and complex electromagnetic fields. It seemed to her that my brain was able to produce patterns in it that somehow through electromagnetic interference resonated with certain substances and could be directed in different directions. Physically similar to a phased array radar, she said. I could only nod in agreement. (I wasn't a physicist, I was a neuroscientist, and not a very good one.) How my brain figured that out was a research challenge beyond current technology. But then, how does a pro athlete figure out how to run to the exact right spot to catch a ball?
I knew already that it was much more difficult to move dry objects, and metals were weird. Physicists like to say that chemistry is just the physics of the electron shell. That's arrogant-- most physicists are incompetent chemists-- but down at the cellular level of molecules going mano a mano, chemistry and electricity are basically the same. And electrons are really, really light. Easy to manipulate.
Sex with Mingyu was extraordinary, but at the interpersonal level Mingyu's behavior mods were causing me problems that I had to solve on my own. I'd become reluctant to look people in the eye and had to consciously hold myself back from dilating every woman I felt attracted to. Inadvertent touches were even worse. I had to be careful when handing people anything. In a crowded elevator once a woman accidentally backed into me. Wow. She didn't move away, maybe because she was shivering too hard. When a minute later the elevator emptied, she tore herself away and gave me a long look, not friendly. I tried to maintain an innocent face but I thought she might slap me.
I took to wearing heavier clothes, which helped a bit, and considered wearing gloves. I tried lotions. No effect. I was in trouble and I didn't know what to do about it.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
Then I met Nicole. I was in a mall, at an off hour to avoid crowds, but turning a corner I came upon a couple having an argument and the woman, young and very attractive, turned away angrily from the man and stepped right into me, full on, tits, knees, forehead. I compounded the problem when I instinctively put my hands to her shoulders to hold her back. Big mistake. Her face turned from anger to surprise to heavenly bliss to shock. Then to the reaction you might expect to see in someone who has just encountered her first alien.
A fascinating and somehow attractive alien, to be sure. She turned back to the young man, then to me. We apologized to each other quickly. "Oh, hi, I finally found you," she said loudly. Then lower to me: "Take me somewhere."
"At last," I answered just as loud, picking up on her subtext and the angry vibe the guy was displaying. I pretended to check my watch. "We can still make our reservation." I pointed in the opposite direction from the young man she'd been talking to. I avoided looking right at him but I remember thinking he looked tight. That was the word that came to me, tight. We strode off together. I knew of a small cafe that would be half empty this time of day. We found a table near the back. She chose the seat facing the front. "Just in case."
"He's bothering you?"
"You could say that."
We introduced ourselves and I got us a couple of cappuccinos.
"Jeez," she said, "There's really something about you."
I realized I was doing things to her without thinking. I tried to clamp down on that. Her name was Nicole. She was a grad student in Computer Science at the university. We chatted about the school, trading stories about how dysfunctional the bureaucracy was.
"Shit," she said, looking over my shoulder. She sat up.
I turned to see the young man approach. A second look confirmed my first impression. Light brown hair trimmed nearly to his skull, badly receding hairline, tight-fitting clothes, jeans tucked into pointy boots, a stiff way of walking.
"Why did you run away from me? Who is this guy?"
"Ryan, we've been through this too many times."
I tried to do the eye trick on him. Amazingly it appeared to have almost no effect. I could get him to pause for a few seconds, but then he was somehow able to shake it off. It seemed he'd already pinned himself on Nicole and even I couldn't alter that. While their non-conversation continued, he moved steadily closer to her until I began to fear for her safety. But I'd learned a number of other tricks, as I called them, with Mingyu.
"You promised we would spend time together."
"I promised no such thing."
"You did. You said you were--" He stopped, a confused look on his face. He looked down. My eyes followed his to his crotch, where a wet stain was growing. "What the--?" He pressed his hands into his pants, looked around frantically. The stain extended down a pant leg. "Fuck!" He held a hand up to her. "Wait! Don't go! I'll be right back."
We watched him run/hop out the door and down the walkway.
I expected her to laugh, or least show some kind of satisfaction at the predicament of her tormenter. But her jaw hung open in pure shock.
"I guess the strain got to him. He certainly was wound up."
I think she was too polite to give me the you're-a-total-idiot look. "Can we get out of here?" she asked.
I led her outside. That was maybe not enough so I directed her to my car in the garage, where we sat. "Any place you need to go?"
"Any place where he isn't." She turned to me and put her hand on my shoulder. "Thanks. I don't know-- what's with you?" She pulled her hand away, then back on me, away again.
"I'm sorry."
"Are you doing this?" She held up her hand, brushing her fingertips together.
"I can't help it."
