This is Part 2 of the five part story of the adventures of Ginny, a girl with an unusual psychic ability. Part 1 can be found at
http://www.literotica.com/s/the-girl-who-wasnt-there-ch-01
Once again my thanks to my editor
ArilynWriter
for her comments, encouragement and editing. Her support has been invaluable.
Thanks also for the feedback and comments on Part 1. I have edited that part slightly to clarify some points that people felt were unclear. Please let me have your thoughts on this, the next chapter...
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It is now three nights ago that I started our story, paying the price for my lack of sleep the following day. But now I cannot sleep again, feeling the restless urge to continue the tale. Perhaps if I can write another chapter I will be able to return to my love in bed to hold her and sleep again.
So, I must turn back to Wessex University, but to an older me; me at 26, Ginny Anderson BSc (Hons), MSc, now PhD student and researcher in Doctor Tanya Neal's Department of Parapsychology, or the Ministry of Mysteries as I would call it, much to the Doc's annoyance. Being a researcher makes me Tanya's colleague, albeit a junior one. We get on get on well enough; however, she thinks that I'm too frivolous and don't take things seriously and that I joke about my ability too much. This isn't entirely fair: I only joke about my ability with my close colleagues.
My ability, my 'witchy power', now has a scientific name. Doc Tanya has described it as a form of Extra-Sensory Manipulation, ESM rather than ESP (Extra-Sensory Perception). Before he left for Edinburgh University, Jake Green coined the term
psychoamoebothemia
, Greek for 'changing emotions with the spirit or mind' apparently, or PAT for short. So I can 'ez-me' people or 'pat' them!
As a subject my ability, my PAT or ESM, is regularly tested, and with frequent practise I've become better at it. It's still not perfect, but I often use it to calm or relax those I interview. I've never used it to seduce anyone, not since Jake, anyway. I cannot make someone love me as such feelings would be meaningless. That sounded almost profound, so perhaps I'm a little wiser too; maybe.
I have friends, but no one special. I have sex, but no deep loving relationship. So I am happy, but not fulfilled. I want to get on and tell of how she and I met, but there is an event that comes first; a surreal event, when I think of it and one that may have both helped cause our danger and yet saved us as well.
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CHAPTER 2 -- "Going beyond the call of duty"
It's a Friday, just after lunch and time for my fortnightly meeting with Doctor Tanya, the usual mix of reporting back, raising issues, supervision for my PhD ('Tell me Ginny, how is your thesis work progressing?'), checking how my ESM skills are developing, ideas for new tests, and general admin.
I get on well enough with Doc T; she's a bit of a cold fish, very reserved, and doesn't do much of the touchy-feely management stuff. However, she's always happy to listen to problems I have with work and give practical help. I owe her a lot; she's helped me get my Masters and now my Doctorate, even letting me stay for free in one the guest rooms the department so that I could afford to study. After five years (can it be that already?) this place feels like my home as well as my work. She has been a bit odd lately. Not odd exactly, but different, more talkative and not just about work, even laughing once or twice; more
normal
really, which for her is... odd. Perhaps I can find out what it is; my colleagues Wanda and Alex want me to as I've known her the longest.
I knock on Doctor T's office door and wait a moment before she calls me to enter. It's an absolute rule of the department: you never enter her office without her permission. I enter, expecting the usual routine where I make the Doc and I a cup of coffee (she always has nice coffee), but surprisingly she is by the machine already and tells me to sit. She walks past, placing the coffee in front of me before going round to her side of the desk. "Thanks, Doctor," I say and she smiles.
Normality resumes as we begin the meeting, the agenda now a matter of habit as we run through the topics: how my PhD thesis is progressing, reports of tests either by me or on me, how my practising of my ESM is progressing, tasks for next two weeks, and so on. Only two things catch my interest. First, she might be able to secure some additional funding for the department -- "Early days yet, though," she warns. The second thing is the Doctor herself. She seems nervous and excited and happy all at once, very different from her normal measured and controlled self. I am trying to think of a way to ask her what's up when she closes her laptop indicating the end of the meeting. I hesitate, but make to stand up and leave.
"No, Ginny, don't go yet, please. I want to talk to you."
I sit back again, intrigued. "Okay, Doc."
"Always Doc or Doctor," she says quietly. "Ginny, how long have we known each other? Five years?"
"A bit more; maybe five and a half," I reply. "I was in my final degree year when we met."
"I remember you that day..." she starts and I try not to blush knowing what she was remembering; her first sight of me on my knees sucking off Jake. "Ginny, am I your friend?"
The question catches me off guard. "Erm, well you've always been good to me. You've helped me a lot and have always supported me. I like you and I have huge respect for you and your work. But, well... we're not exactly mates. I mean, we don't go for a drink together to sit and chat. Not that I would have minded doing that," I add hastily, "I mean, if you'd ever said you wanted to."
"No, we're not 'mates' are we? I'm more like a kindly aunt, an old, spinster aunt." Her voice is emotional, but it's not sadness, more -- disappointment? Frustration perhaps? I wish I had some ESP at this point so I could tell more clearly what she was feeling.
"You're not old! Doc... Tanya... what's the matter?"
She smiles slightly at my use of her name. "It's, well, for the first time in years I really need to talk to someone, as a friend, about my life."
"D- Tanya, I owe you so much. That first time we met you said you hoped we'd be colleagues one day, and here we are. We may not be mates -- not at the moment, anyway -- but we like each other and we've always got on well together so I'd say we're more than just colleagues. Will that do?"
"Thank you, Ginny. I do envy you, you know; the way you just dive into love and relationships. I find it so hard to, to... to open up to anyone."
I chuckle. "And I find it hard thinking things through before I do them. You know, I'm not necessarily the best person for relationship advice. I'm good at starting relationships, but pretty crap at maintaining them at anything more than friendship. My life is a catalogue of brief romances, short flings, and one-night stands."
"Have you never been in love?" she asks and I cannot help laughing.
"Sorry, Tanya," I apologise, "but hearing that question from you is just so... unexpected!" I think for a minute. "You know, I don't think I have ever been in love, not properly. I've fancied loads of people, had crushes on guys and girls, simply had sex with them, but never met anyone that I think 'Wow! You're the one!'"
"So you are bisexual then? I overheard Wanda..."
"Yes, I am, and perhaps that's part of the problem. Wanda keeps telling me it is."
"I'm sure if you met the right person you'd know, and their sex wouldn't matter, would it?"
"I guess not. Tanya, you've been behaving differently for the past two weeks and I'm fairly sure that it has something to do with why you need to talk to someone. If I were to hazard a guess at this point, I would say that you met someone and you fancy him, but what, you don't know what to do next?" The look on her face tells me I've hit the bull's-eye, or near enough. "I can't promise to have the answers, but I
can
listen, and I do promise that I'll keep what you say just between us."
"It's not a 'him'," she manages to say and blushes deeply.
"A woman?" I ask and she nods. "Cool! Well, the first question is: who is she and how did you meet?"
"Her name is Marie Bonar. She's part of some Government review of universities and she's based here at Wessex, but she's covering all the universities in the south-west. I met her when she was introduced at a Heads of Faculties lunch three weeks ago. We got talking and she's intrigued by the paranormal."
"Okay, so apart from her interest in the paranormal, do you think she's attracted to you?"
"I
know
she is! We've been out a few times now on -- are they still called dates at my age or is that just if you're a teenager?"
"Nah, you can still call them dates. Good God, Doc -- sorry, Tanya, you're barely 40, not some geriatric!"
"Okay, Marie and I have been on dates: drinks, a couple of times for meals, and once to the theatre. At the theatre she was holding my hand and rubbed my leg a couple of times. It was nice, but I didn't really know how to respond. We have kissed, you know, deeply, with..." She is blushing again. In all these years I never noticed how shy the Doc is.
"Tongues?" I offer and she nods.
"I, I didn't know that's what people did when she first tried to, you know, use her tongue."
"And what happened?"