You Can Always Say No Pt 01

All characters are over 18.

***

Kimberley would not, later on, recall precisely what caused her to swipe left.

The profile was pretty good, as far as guys went, by which she meant that it wasn't a

total

disaster. No shirtless photos, no gangsta poses, no hints- subtle or otherwise- that they hated feminists, women interested in more than casual sex or just women in general. No- and she still shuddered at that one- pictures of them and their mothers together. He didn't look all that attractive- too skinny, too short, nose like a beak- but what made her swipe left, what sealed her fate in the end, was-

Well. Morbid curiosity. At the end of his profile, after the usual mildly interesting facts (amateur writer, likes hiking and reading in cafes) were the words, short and simple and very much in plain sight:

Warning: I am an erotic mind controller.

...and she just

had

to know.

So Kimberley swiped left, with a vague mental note that in the unlikely event that he swiped back she would probably not take things any further than a few questions about what the hell he was talking about.

And so Kimberly Jones- twenty-three years old, fresh out of university and already finding the prospect of facing the daily grind of the office more than a little depressing- finished the last of her breakfast, got up from her living room couch and headed into work.

What the hell,

she wondered as she stepped into her workplace,

was an erotic mind controller?

Was it a hobby? Some sort of profession? Was he a stage magician in some sort of R-rated late-night show? She sat at her desk, ran her hands through her auburn hair, and pondered the deep, dark mysteries of dating app profiles.

"Hey." She looked up to see Samantha rush into the office and sit down next to her. "Busy night?"

She made a point of smiling back. "Just the usual." She pushed the smile a little further, hoping that hint to her coworker- her blonder, prettier, bustier coworker- that

the usual

involved cocktail parties, nightclubbing and passionate affairs with hunky strangers rather than the usual fare of microwave dinners and Netflix binges of Korean romance dramas. Samantha smiled back with what Kimberly could only presume was the patient smile of a girl who knew full well that Kimberley's life was dull, was very clearly dull, that Kimberley- olive-skinned and skinny and small- was probably the dullest girl that Samantha had ever met but it was fine, it was okay; she didn't mind that Kimberley was dull in the slightest.

Kimberley didn't have much in the way of friends. She found them too exhausting. But she quite liked talking to Samantha in small doses. So she made a mental note to ask her about her night (and not to get too depressed while she was listening) after she got them both coffees.

Rising, she walked over to the small, bare kitchen alcove that the insurance company who had deigned to employ her ("For the time being," carefully intoned HR at her interview six months ago) had cheerfully called the cafeteria. She put on the kettle and reached for the tin of instant coffee with a silent promise that she'd splurge for a latte for the pair of them next week. Until then she'd make do with-

"Kim."

Fuck.

Greg.

She turned and put her very best smile on for her line manager as he stepped closer, well within what she- or any other person- would consider their personal space.

Sometimes, during the weekend when she had time to decompress and could- on some level- find the whole thing funny, she'd often ponder if Greg was churned out somewhere in a factory for creeps. Everything about him- the slightly protruding eyes that had an angry glare set as default, the way he stooped that made his gut push out, the smell that was part B.O. and part some strange and exotic species of dead fish- seemed designed to sent a small, involuntary shockwave of disgust through her.

That in itself wouldn't be a reason to hate Greg- God knew Kimberley had needed to deal with her share of contempt during her plumper and awkwarder high school years- but all of this was compounded by a number of unfortunate tendencies on the part of her boss. Tendencies like-

"See any men last night?" his mouth leered while his eyes narrowed as though she were under interrogation. This was typical Greg- taking an innocent comment, twisting it into something ugly and giving it just enough of an edge that she felt threatened. She did her best to keep herself smiling and said, "Just stayed at home."

"That's so sad," he said in the gloating tones of a schoolyard bully. "Maybe your standards are too high?"

"I- uh, I don't think that's it."

He was already shaking his head, chuckling to himself. "It is. I swear, girls your age are a generation of princess, aren't you? I really think-"

Samantha swept in like a blonde angel. "Kim! You got my coffee! Brilliant! Hey, I need you for something."

"Well-" Greg hesitated.

"We got to get started on those figures, boss! Too busy to talk, see you later." Greg seemed to melt underneath Sam's beacon of cheerful disobedience as the blonde woman steered Kimberley back to her desk.

"Thanks."

"No worries." Samantha sat back down. "Christ, what a creep."

"Yeah."

"You need to be careful with him, okay? I've heard stories."

Kimberley felt a jolt of something unpleasant in her stomach. "What sort of stories?"

"Girls that work with him getting fired, and girls that work for him...not getting fired. Guess what the difference was?"

Kimberley closed her eyes. "Shit."

Sam's blue eyes were sympathetic. "Look. Chill. I'm sure they're just stories, okay?"

"Sure." There was a chime as the message notification on her phone went off. "Hang on." She pulled out her phone and...

Message from Josh.

She blinked and opened the phone.

Josh: Hey. Your profile looked interesting so I'd thought I'd contact you.

...she wasn't sure what she expected from this. Well, that's not entirely true- she'd expected Dick Picks at the very least, or maybe some sort of request to download a file called spirals.exe.

Instead it was a message, a simple and easy and plain message that sounded almost rational-

"Girls? I thought you had work to do?"

She turned and smiled at Greg. "I'm sorry."

He paused and then smiled, a big, broad, ugly grin. "Not yet, anyway."

Shivering, she put the phone away and went back to her computer.

It was lunchtime before she pulled out her phone again and- after typing a response to her mother, who just had to make sure she was okay and eating right and was she still single? - remembered the message.

She paused, wondering what the hell she should do.

"Oh, you're on a dating site?" She looked up to see Samantha sitting across from her, digging into a disturbingly healthy-looking salad.

"Yes." She felt obliged to defend herself somehow. "It's just for fun."

"Oh, I know!" Samantha gave her a saucy smile. "Shit, I think about all the 'fun'-" actual quote marks in the air- "-I had, well...you seeing anyone on it?"

"Um." She wondered briefly if she should mention the whole erotic mind controller thing- play it off as a joke maybe? - when her sense of shame leapt up and informed the rest of her that no, this

wasn't

a thing that would be happening any time soon. So she said, "Just one right now. He seems nice."

"Well, nice is...nice, but sometimes you want a bit of wild too, right?" Another saucy smile, another look like

clearly

Kimberley knew what she meant.

"Yeah."

And so- as though prodded to, as though Sam was leaning over her shoulders and egging her on...

Kim: Yours was downright intriguing.

***

There was a slow trickle of texts back and forth after that.

Josh: It sounds like your boss is an asshole.

Snuck in at work or on the toilet.

Kim: You don't know the half of it.

She'd gone on dates before, even pushed herself to have the occasional one-night stand as some sort of mark of independence.

Josh: It's a hobby, but one I want to make into a real business...just put off by so many stories of starving writers.

But apart from James- may he never return, that awful bastard- they were all empty things, awkward and brief encounters that left her feeling ashamed or embarrassed or- on one occasion- a little scared.

Kim: I just wish I had something like that to aim for.

The messages made her realise just how badly she missed being able to talk to someone other than the occasional worktime chat with Samantha.

Mum: Are you alright?

...well, someone other than her mother.

Josh: Don't worry. You're still figuring stuff out.

But as nice as it was, as cool as that little buzz of anticipation was whenever she got a message, reality needed to intrude.

She bit the bullet.

Kim: So what's about this Mind Controller thing...?

Time to stop this pleasant little outing, time to shatter the little fantasy. Time to pay attention to the pervert behind the curtain.

Josh: Probably better if I explain in person.

Josh: Want to meet up for coffee?

...she really shouldn't have accepted the offer.

The guy felt like he was nice, like he was pleasant, but she'd been there before hadn't she? Just because the negging hadn't come yet didn't mean that he wasn't a major creep.

Besides, he said he was an

Erotic Mind Controller

. No normal person did that.

She should really just type back a message or- this was definitely the smarter, if the ruder option- just ghost him. Block him without explanation. That was definitely the right call.

Kim: Okay. Somewhere central?

...she really was an idiot, wasn't she?

***

He was free that night, apparently. She was free most nights so they met up around eight.

The place was one of those cafes that specialised in okay coffees and great cakes- French concoctions involving layers of delicate pastry and cream, cakes that looked light enough to be carried away on a breeze if not for heaps of sinfully thick icing. She came at eight sharp in defiance of her mother's advice about always being late.

Josh was already there. He smiled at her and she felt the first stirrings of something in her belly at the simple, easy picture.

She sat down. They exchanged a couple of basic pleasantries and he ordered for her. She noticed that he murmured something quickly into the waitresses' ear; she blinked a couple of times and then walked away quickly, a dazed expression crossing her face. He turned back to her. "It's good to meet you."

"Likewise." He really did have a nice smile.

"I know this is kind of quick-"

"It's okay."

They exchanged a little small talk; mostly it was Kim talking about herself. The waitress returned in a little while and Kimberley was surprised to find a pair of exquisite little cakes waiting for her when she returned. "Please try them," he said. "They're the best cakes in the store."

She hesitated, despite the look of the things, despite the tantalising scent of chocolate that wafted off the perfect little creations. If he felt upset by it then he gave no sign. "So. You have questions."

"Yes." Embarrassed, she looked around. Other than the waitress that had taken their order- who seemed to be hovering in the background, occasionally sneaking glances at the two of them- no one was paying them any attention. "So. Your profile..."

"You want to ask about my being an erotic mind controller."

She coughed and raised her cup to her lips. "Well."

He smiled at her. "It's not that hard to explain. I can control minds in an erotic way."

She sputtered and nearly sprayed coffee all over him. "Um. You mean like a...a I don't know. A hypno-kink?" She'd spent an educational half hour browsing the internet before she came to the meeting. "Um, like a dominant thing?"

"Sort of-"

Well, that explained it, then. It was a little weird, but-

"-except it's real."

-Okay. She smiled at him and nodded and thought about how quickly she could make a quick exit. He just chuckled as though she'd made a joke. "Perhaps I should demonstrate."

"Oh, you don't need to-."

"

Take a bite of your dessert

."

That calm, confident smile didn't waver.

"Erm." She looked around wildly. The waitress from before was staring at them both now, any pretence of ignoring them abandoned.

"Take a bite," he repeated, his smile only broadening.

She half-rose to leave.

Then sat down. There was a...a feeling. Not just in her head, although it seemed to be doing an excellent job of crowding out her desire to flee. No, it was like some strange full-body shiver; a faint shroud over her skin, her muscles, her nerves.

It wasn't fear, although it might have been its distant kin. It was more a feeling of...

Anticipation.

She stared at the tiny, delicate and entirely perfect cream and chocolate creation in front of her. She picked up her spoon. The metal edges eased through the layers like a blade, sheering away a cross- section of the treat for her. It rose up, to her lips which parted and then...

The pleasure was like the blooming of a flower, slow and languid and oh-so

beautiful.

It trickled down from her brain through the rest of her body, softly claiming her in its embrace, flowing through her breasts, rolling down her stomach, reaching like a gentle lover between her legs.

She groaned, the taste of the treat entirely forgotten, as heat rushed back up like a counter-wave. She gasped as desire- hot, sweet and eager- filled her.

She stared at Josh as her body came into heat, her nipples stiffening, her cheeks blushing and limbs trembling. He still had that soft, confident smile on his face.

She opened her mouth to ask questions, to demand answers, to thank him, to scream and run.

"Uh."

"Believe me now?"

"Uhhh."

He leaned forward, eyes twinkling with good humour. "

Take another bite

. Please."

She recognised the feeling again; a faint, soft push, little more than a whisper, that seemed to ease its way into her head. "Are- are you making me..?"

"No. I can suggest, but not

force

. If you know about it in advance you can resist it."

"How?"

"That's a discussion for another time. For right now..." He raised one eyebrow and said with mock seriousness, "eat your dessert, young lady."

She swallowed and stared down at the dessert.

Then she did what she was told to.

Time seemed to pass in a strange fever-dream. She ate and felt herself dissolve into a hot haze as one trembling hand mechanically cut apart the treat, raising the chocolate and cream mass to her lips; then letting it slide in, before that flowering bloom of pleasure would claim her again.

It took six bites to finish; six bites later and she was a wreck, hot need perfectly balanced with languid pleasure. She felt perfect. She desperately wanted more. She sat, her thighs trembling, her core a wet mess, and realised her dessert was entirely gone.

"Hmm."

"So. I hope this wasn't too...surprising."

"What happens now?" She was painfully aware of the state of her body, of the way she ached. She realised that a man with this sort of power could do anything to her, take her back and do

things

,

hot

things to her, command her to do any sort of

awful, depraved

acts and-

Oh god, oh god, oh god, she nearly

came

.

"Right now? I think you need some time to cool off."

...what?

"What?" She breathed.

"The thing about me? I believe in...let's call it ethical mind control. I like to give people all the information. All the chances to back out. It's important that you take the time and think this over." He rose, throwing money onto the counter. "So I have another command for you. Two, actually."

"What?"

"Second command isn't using my powers. It's to go away and think about this. Think about if this is what you want. I like you- you're interesting, you're cute, you're a natural recipient for my powers, I haven't seen anyone take to it quite like you- but I want you to come to me willingly. So go. If you have doubts, ask. If all of this frightens you...well. I want to hear from you again. But if I didn't...I would understand."

"Okay." She nodded. "What...what was the first command?"

"Oh. That." He leant forward and murmured something into her ear.

As hot as she was, as much as the anticipation made her shudder, she nearly didn't obey; nearly listened to the panicked, angry voices in the back of her mind that told her that there was absolutely no way she could, would,

ever

do something like that.

She felt herself freeze in place, hot desire warring with the icy dash of embarrassment that jolted down her spine at the mere thought of...there was no way she could...she wasn't the sort of girl who would...

Mechanically she rose on shaking feet. Crossed over to the bathroom, opened up the toilet door and stepped inside. Took off her shoes and peeled off her skinny jeans with trembling fingers and then-

-eased her sopping panties off, juices staining her hands. Put her jeans back on and then her shoes, breath rasping as though she was running a race. Her heart pounded. Cold sweat beaded her brow.

She stepped out of the stall and then out of the toilet and then crossed the room, feeling the weight of every gaze on her, past the waitress who watched her with lidded eyes and put her sodden panties down in front of him.

She nearly

did

come then, the pleasure rushing around inside her, and the intensity of it all was the only thing stopping her from begging him to take her home then and there.

She was dimly aware of him pocketing her panties, his motions slow and unhurried, of throwing money down onto the table, of him telling her to call him if she wanted to as she sat back down. He leant over and whispered into her ear.

"Remember. You can always say no."

He swept past her and out of the coffee-shop.

***

It took time- a long time- before she mastered herself enough to get back up. She rushed home, peeled off her jeans- the crotch already soaked through- lay down on the couch and then-

The orgasm was nearly immediate, her clit a hair-trigger that sent an explosion through her body the moment her eager, greedy fingers found it. She worked her way through another, one hand a blur, the other grasping at her breasts through her shirt.

Afterwards she sat back and stared at the ceiling of her tiny studio apartment, the pleasure finally releasing her from its grip.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

***

Comments and criticism are welcome. Note that I cannot claim any benefits for claiming Mind Control capabilities via dating apps.