Marcus relaxed on the settee, gently rubbing his cock, watching his Aunt Jennie squirming on the ground before him, moaning and screaming in pleasure, her body shuddering, her hand thrust under her skirt and between her legs. Marcus had dreamt of this moment, had fantasized about this moment, but never thought the reality would ever happen. Aunt Jennie was his mother's younger sister, in her late thirties, now divorced. She was still slim, with her long dark hair, still shapely, still quite beautiful. Marcus's mother had hinted that the divorce had happened because Jennie her sister was too conservative for her husband, whom Jennie decided was perverted for wanting a lot of variety, and wanting a "slut" as a wife. Marcus smiled - the "prude" was putting on one of the most wanton shows he could imagine. For Marcus, Aunt Jennie was even more beautiful as her body writhed in orgasm. Marcus had often fantasised about his aunt, but to have such control over her was beyond his dreams.
Marcus had made this moment last, now having complete control over the power. He had played Aunt Jennie for the best part of an hour, as they sat watching the telly. Marcus's mother was out at work, Aunt Jennie staying for a few days. At first he had "fired" the power gently into her nipples, one at a time, and smiled as Aunt Jennie responded, aroused, uncertain of what was happening to her, trying to hide any excitement she had from Marcus. Then he had fired the power into her pussy, hitting the G spot, then spreading throughout the walls of her pussy. He had extended the power to her clit, and watched as she begun to lose control to the arousal he generated in her. Now that he had completely mastered the Drusilian Mandala, he could control his aunt. He took her to high arousal, keeping her just below orgasm, keeping her in that state of arousal for twenty minutes. She had started by breathing heavy. She had at first been embarrassed, until the arousal became too strong to resist. She squirmed, she grabbed one of her own tits with one hand, ripped off her panties with the other, then thrust her hand between her legs. Desperately trying to cum, fingers pumping in and out of her sopping wet pussy, the heel of her hand pumping her clit. Of course Marcus had the power to prevent her reaching her climax.
At last Marcus had let her cum - when she came was all part of his control. No - he had forced her into orgasm, stronger than any orgasm she had ever imagined. She screamed obscenities, screaming "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK..." over and over. And Marcus had kept her in the orgasm, knowing her pussy was leaking liquids as it had never done before. She had been writhing in orgasm for the best part of ten minutes. He knew he would have to bring it to an end in a few moments - he could read whether she was enjoying it or not, and would stop before the enjoyment began to wane. He wouldn't use the Mandala to hurt her.
At last Aunt Jennie's body stopped writhing, she lay on the ground gasping for breath, recovering from the most overwhelming orgasm she had ever known, totally unaware of how it had happened. She suddenly went red - Marcus had seen it all. Heard it all. Marcus smiled... getting the tattoo on his chest had been the best thing he had ever done...
It had all started months ago, as Marcus began his newest research project for his library. His library had received a new crate full of manuscripts from a distant Asian country wracked by civil war. The ancient manuscripts which had never been seen in the west before had been rescued and brought to his University library for safety and research. Marcus had been given the task of preserving the manuscripts and trying to make sense of what they had to say. It was the sort of challenge Marcus loved - Marcus was known as a nerd, with his thin whispy beard, glasses and unfashionable clothes - almost dressing like a hippy. Marcus was happiest with books - underneath he was a good looking lad, and well endowed, but he was frightened of women, and men... He had been with one woman, but had "failed" because of his fears. There were many he fancied, dreamt of having sex with, but never had the courage. He was even more embarrassed that it wasn't just women he fancied... Marcus was now 24, and considered an expert on old manuscripts and cultures, following his doctorate bringing understanding to an ancient South American culture recorded only in parchments and stones. This new research was the sort of work he dreamed of.
It had taken Marcus several weeks to crack the language, similar to many other ancient Asian Scripts. He discovered he was reading the historic archives of the Drusila, an ancient violent warrior people in central Asia. By the painfully slow meticulous translation work he could make out their history, their leaders, their social and military systems, and began to put together his research into book form, that would be published at a later date. Marcus found the work rewarding, enjoying the discoveries he made. There were just two issues which he struggled with.
Firstly were the descriptions of battles. The descriptions revealed how vicious the Drusila were as people, massacring other armies, but the "process" of the battles was strange. The two armies - as described in the chronicles - would line up facing each other, and a sort of madness would come over the other army, whereupon the Drusila would simply march on them and kill them. Somehow the Drusila barely, if ever, lost any soldiers. Marcus also noted towards the end of the manuscripts that somehow the madness consumed them as well, in some way, and ended up with the Drusila killing each other, their civilisation destroyed. Marcus couldn't make sense of it - it wasn't civil war, more anarchy, from how he read the Chronicle.
The second thing he struggled with was a small piece of parchment rolled inside another manuscript. On it was a diagram, a circular diagram like a mandala, with two words underneath which translated into English as "The Power," although in the original language there was a much more mystical sense to the word. Marcus wondered at what this meant, studied the mandala, but couldn't make sense of it.
Things seemed to change one Thursday afternoon as he worked in the library quiet room. He had been writing, then turned again to the diagram. He studied and looked. Then got distracted, then started doodling, and ended up, he didn't know how, copying the diagram with a biro onto the palm of his hand. It was one of his bad habits - drawing on his hands, and it was always a pain getting the ink off again - he had to mix sugar and washing-up liquid to get most of it off, which he'd have to do at home.
Marcus looked around the study room, noticed that there were eight or ten other people there, studying - two or three men, the rest women. Marcus started to let his mind wander, looking at the women, and the men, and fantasising... He often did it after the energy for work had worn off late in an afternoon. But he just noticed an odd reaction, almost as if his thoughts affected the people in the room. There was one woman whom he pictured naked, and saw her suddenly breathe heavily, turn red, and leave the room immediately. Marcus looked at one of the men and wondered how big he might be when hard, and suddenly the man seemed to be sitting uncomfortably.
Marcus looked around each of the people in the room, and all seemed to be behaving a little oddly, squirming, one or two leaving, others distracted, staring out of the window. Marcus just wondered whether it was a problem with the air-conditioning or something, or maybe the cleaning materials he could smell.
That evening Marcus washed off the diagram. The next day he went to study, finished the day fantasising, but nothing seemed to happen. Marcus forgot about the previous day, and planned his work for the following week.
On the Friday evening Marcus again looked at the diagram, and adsent-mindedly drew it on his hand again, but couldn't be bothered to wash it off - he'd do it before Monday.
