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By Flying Pen

I have a talent. I can tinker with people's minds. Women seem to be the most susceptible, although each individual is different. I don't know why; maybe it has to do with gender, but I can't make men do my bidding as easily, nor with as few after-effects. The talent is relatively new; I wasn't born with it, and it probably has something to do with the accident in the Radiation Safety department where I used to work. I went blind when all of that isotope was spilled over my head. My sight came back after about a year, and I soon discovered that the nurse was awful friendly. Stranger still, she would act just like I fantasized. When Patricia quit her job to become my full-time private nurse, I knew I was on to something.
Now it was time for me to add to my collection. Jodie, my number one concubine and primary means of support, had suggested that the act of exercising my power, the taking of control, was more important than having control. When I first figured out how it worked, many bar bimbos wound up in my bed, but that quickly became boring. Then I met Jodie. She fought my control, aware of my mental tampering, and resisted as best she could. It took six months, but she surrendered herself to me completely, which made for some incredible sex that night. Her acquiescence to my possession spices our relationship in a way that I've never felt with Patricia. I leave Jodie pretty much free, unless we start having a truly unpleasant discussion, because I respect her insight and who she is. If I crush that individuality and smother her intelligence, which I am capable of doing, she would become just another bar bimbo.
The next thing I learned was to avoid getting women from the same place. Other guys band together really well when they figure out that you're the one that keeps taking away, or spoiling their opportunities. The power kept me from getting physically hurt, but it was a strain. So, that explained why I was sitting outside an office building in another city. The lunch hour was ending, and a parade of workers headed back to work. I pretended to read the paper as I half- interestedly scanned the numerous well-dressed women who walked by. That's when I saw her.
She was with a group of coworkers, male and female, obviously returning from lunch. I didn't really notice her until she turned my way, and our eyes met through a clearing in the clumps of people. My gaze quickly turned into a gawk at the slender, attractive blonde, and I stared, somewhat rudely, I know. However, the five or so seconds our eyes were connected was enough for me to establish my presence in her mind. I can't do anything to anybody whose eyes I've never looked at. I don't know why, but that seems to be the way the power works. I grabbed as much as I could from the surface of the woman's mind during that brief period. Honey was her name. She reacted appropriately to my tactless action, a brief flash of anger crossing her face, and an indignant toss of blonde bangs as she broke our eye contact. It was already too late.
I played my opening card that afternoon. "Hello, Honey. It's me, the guy who stared at you right after lunch." I'm sure she must have jumped several feet wherever she was. "Yes, that's right, I'm outside your building, waiting for you to end your day so we can meet properly. I have no idea where you're at, so I just thought I'd contact you directly, without a phone, or having to find your office. Mind-to-mind communication is so -- private, don't you think?"
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!" Predictable response, followed by silence. There was always an initial silence as the victim evaluated her sanity, then the imperative order. I decided to let Honey think she'd won the war, when our first battle was still yet to come. I returned to my hotel. Tomorrow would be another day.
Honey hid in her office at lunch the next day. "Do you think that you can hide from me by staying in your office? Honestly, Honey. And no, you can't see me from your office window." She repeated her imperative from the previous day, with more force. "Nope. I decided to leave you alone yesterday, it wasn't anything you did to stop me."
"Why are you doing this to me???" came Honey's panicked thought.
"Because I want you, Honey. I find you attractive, and I would like to have you. Meet me at the bar at the Hilton hotel nearby after work, and I will explain more." I left the lobby of the building where she worked. A faint tickling sensation in my mind indicated that Honey was trying to reach me, but I had shut her out, leaving her curiosity to do the rest. At five-twenty, an attractive, well-dressed blonde walked into the hotel bar. She looked around apprehensively, but I was in a position where I could see her without her seeing me. I love being mysterious. The cocktail waitress, my temporary thrall, led Honey to me as I had instructed. She sat warily, regarding me with a little bit of fear.
"I'm married," she began. As if that made any difference to me. Jodie had broken her engagement at a very late time to be with me. Honey looked at my impassive face, and I regarded her clear blue eyes as they filled with apprehension. I used the eye contact to further probe her mind, and do a little tinkering. "Please, I'm very happy with my husband," she begged.
"Slide back from the table and cross your legs for me," I said, quietly so nobody else could hear me. It was a suggestion made with a little bit of a mental push, not a command. Her reaction would tell me much about her; indeed, it would determine whether I should stop the game right now.
"What???" Honey's eyes shot up. Blue lightning flashed from them, daggers in tow, aimed at me. She leaned forward angrily, yet had the discretion to lower her voice. Honey stuck a finger in my face and snarled, "Don't you ever treat me like a plaything to be put on display! I am not some slave!" I had trouble concealing my smile at her inner fire. The waitress arrived with a glass of wine for her, and Honey's anger turned to shock. "How did you know???"
"What you like to drink? I shrugged. "I know a lot about you now, Honey. But I'd rather you tell me, as we get to know each other better. I like that a lot more than swiping that information from your mind. Tiny things such as the wines you like, and what you like to eat are one thing, but there's way too much stuff in your head for me to get it all. Still, I'm very impressed by your physical beauty, and your intelligence. You also have good taste in wines."
This caught her off-guard, and she relaxed slightly. "Ummm... I'm sort of embarrassed to say this, but I am flattered by your attention. If I wasn't very happily married, I might think about getting to know you a little bit. I'm sorry," she apologized. I got up to leave, interrupting her thoughts. "Wait -- are you going to leave me alone?"
"I'm leaving; please finish your wine and enjoy the rest of your evening. Yes, I am paying for your drink, Honey. Thank you for the -- discussion." I left, having accomplished my goal of securing my grip on her mind, and getting her a little curious, which would keep her from fighting my presence there for a little while longer. I chuckled at her parting thought. "I don't even know your name..."
I waited until the following Monday before contacting her again. "Did you enjoy your weekend? Meet me for lunch at the food court in the mall. My treat, and I'll be waiting for you." I was surprised when she didn't show up. This called for stronger measures. Tuesday morning, she heard from me again. "You didn't show up. I waited for you. I'm disappointed." Honey's silence didn't stop me this time. I could pick up her stronger emotions; right now, it was disbelief that I wasn't gone. "I told you: I want you, and I will have you, Honey." Shock exploded in her mind, leaving a bright afterimage behind my eyes for an instant. Ow. No lunch today. I was waiting for her in the parking garage.
"Nice car," I commented. Her eyes met mine and I knew what she was about to do. "No, don't scream." I abruptly snapped on the mental leash I held, and Honey's breath caught in her throat as she found she couldn't disobey my command. "Relax, this will only take a minute," I said lightly, before fixing my brown eyes on Honey's blue ones. Her attentive look and the silence between us did not indicate the adjustments I was making to her thought patterns. I let the power slowly recede from her, giving her the tiniest bit of a warm rush. Jodie loved it when I did that for her. "See you tomorrow at lunch, Honey?" She hesitantly affirmed our date, still fighting the effects of both my tampering and the pleasant warmth that faded from her senses. Wednesday noon, she sat across the table from me.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "I'm a very happily married woman," she pleaded with her now-standard defense. "My husband would kill you if he knew. Please don't make me tell him." Nice tactic, but useless.
I shrugged. "You won't tell your husband about us, Honey, because there is nothing to tell." Her eyes became vacant for a second as the command integrated itself into her being. I said, "And I have something to offer you." Again in control of herself, I could feel Honey's protest forming. I gently grabbed a hold of her mind before she could speak, and toyed with her pleasure centers briefly. Her eyes fluttered, and she sighed dreamily as the wave receded. "Did you like that?" Honey lied, quickly saying no. "I can make you feel like that whenever I want, and I can make it more intense if you want, for as long as you want." I picked up a sense of curiosity, still buried underneath many layers of less -- productive emotions, but it was there. Fear washed over her, but I stilled it. "Don't be afraid of me, Honey. I will never hurt you, and I will see to your pleasure when you are mine. I am a gentle master." It was getting close to one, so I had to let her go.
"Monday, you will tell David that you are going to work late. Then you will call me at suite 214 of the Hilton after work, and we will have dinner. You will say nothing to anybody of our luncheon. Everything seems like a long-forgotten dream, so distant, so far away, until next you hear my voice." I let Honey regain her senses, and the light reappeared in her eyes. I felt a stream of no's flowing in her mind, and she clung to an image of her husband like a shield to protect herself. She looked at me with defiant pride at how she had resisted temptation as she got up to leave. She was unaware of the command I had implanted.
Six o'clock Monday night, the phone rang in suite 214. "Hello, this is Honey." I told her to come to my room, with her briefcase and best professional demeanor. Ten minutes later, Honey walked into the room, looking every bit the businessperson with a serious dinner meeting. I looked at her attire. No, that would never do.
"Go into the bedroom and change, there are some clothes and jewelry waiting for you," I said. Honey was curious, despite her fear, and wonder at being alone with me. I didn't have to make it a command. I called room service to order dinner for two while she took a shower and changed. I could sense her determination to dress for the occasion, which became much stronger when she saw the clothes waiting for her, even if she didn't want to be there. Honey came out of the bedroom almost an hour later, but I had to let the room service person in as one well-turned ankle appeared from behind the bedroom door. I hurried the room service person along as she set up our dinner. I couldn't help stealing glances at my gorgeous dinner companion. Finally, I tipped the woman, and told her not to open the champagne. The girl smiled broadly at the twenty-dollar bill and left quickly.
"Please, sit," I invited, bowing in Honey's direction. She looked incredible, and I couldn't keep my eyes off her legs. She was wearing the simple blue evening dress I had bought for her, elegant, and demure (except for the fact that Honey had decided to leave the slit open by the calf. It was -- very distracting.) "You look wonderful tonight," I almost whispered, so stunned by her transformation. It was not idle flattery.
"Thank you," she smiled at me. I felt a little swell of pride in her, and pleasure that she had so obviously managed to capture my fancy. "You also have good taste in clothes, and the pendant is lovely." A black cloud cast a shadow across her pleased thoughts. She was wondering about something, and didn't know if she should ask me. I waited patiently, since answering questions before people ask them seems to be disconcerting. Honey looked at the perfectly set dinner table. "Ummm... This dress fits perfectly. How did you know what size to get?"
"I read it in your mind. Oh yes, the diamond in the pendant is real, even if it is small. It's a good choice; I don't think that the pearls would look as good on you." Honey's face fell a little with the realization that I had picked the indiscreet question from her mind. "Really, I don't mind your asking," I said lightly. "Please, Honey. Enjoy my hospitality tonight," I requested, opening the champagne and pouring. Honey was very aware that I had made her come to dinner with me, and a little fearful over what I was going to make her do next. It made for a very quiet appetizer and salad course. However, the champagne soon began to take effect. She loosened up, the alcohol's fog making it easier for her to ignore the coercion, and to enjoy the meal. We finished dinner with pleasant, prolonged conversation, and room service removed dinner to present us with coffee, dessert, and a split of champagne.
We continued talking through the final course, then I put the trays in the hall. During this lull, Honey fingered the pendant, becoming silent as she contemplated it, then reclined in her chair and crossed her (magnificent) legs. I baldly admired them, as her smooth calf gave way to her heeled feet. Honey watched me in tipsy amusement, then unfastened another button of the slit, letting her thighs show a little, intensifying my rapt attention to her legs. "Really, I'm flattered. Even if the tops of my thighs are a little too big." There was an instant's hesitation. "But I'm work-"
"Honey, shut up," I said, irritated. I looked at her. "You are incredibly attractive, with very very fine legs. Such pretty eyes, and she only sees fat on her thighs. I really hate it when gorgeous women can only find their flaws. You don't have to be perfect to be attractive or sexy." Honey's tongue peeked between her teeth, as surprise, and pleasure at the compliment filled her thoughts. I also sensed... temptation. Honey settled back into her chair and regained her unintentionally sexy pose. I openly appreciated her beauty in silence a little longer. Then I stood up and held out my hand. Honey stood in response, and I sensed resignation. No fear, no desire, just... resignation. "No, my sweet. It will not be tonight," I stated gently.
She let go of my hand and gaped at me. "Look, it's pretty obvious that you can make me do anything you want. Why don't you - just get it over with?"
I touched her face with a finger, and slid it along her jaw line; she flinched. "You don't understand, do you? I want you to give yourself to me. And you will, because I can do something for you that no other man can." To prove it, I let my power flow into her and tugged lightly on the invisible thread I had connected to her arousal control. Honey's pupils dilated immediately and her eyelids drooped. Her breathing quickened, and her face flushed slightly. Honey's legs wobbled slightly. Just as quickly as it had started, it was over. I pulled the energy back into myself. Honey gasped, and leaned on me for support. "See? I know you liked that, and it's very tempting to stay and enjoy it. But," I paused, leafing through her moderately covered thoughts, "you think of your husband." I hugged Honey from behind. She could feel the fullness of my erection as it pressed just above the crevasse of her well-defined butt globes. "See how you make me feel?" I whispered in her ear. "You're going to leave me now. But the temptation is there inside of you, and it will grow. You will give yourself to me eventually."
I let go of her. Stepping back, I said, "Why don't you change back, and put the dress and shoes back in the box? The dress is yours to keep, but I'm afraid the pendant would arouse too much suspicion. There's a letter from the dressmaker ex- plaining how you won it. Goodbye, Honey, and we will meet again." She left the hotel, very confused, her mind full of curious thoughts. I left her town, and returned to my own. Jodie and Patricia were getting a little restless, and had gotten bored with playing with each other. Jodie told me to come home over the phone. Besides, Honey had gotten me really hot and bothered, but it wasn't the right time.
I returned to the Hilton two weeks later, checking in and contacting Honey telepathically. She tried to keep her slight tingle of excited pleasure concealed beneath her fear of me, but it leaked out. She was mostly scared that I was going to "do it" to her; her husband was out-of-town on business. Similarly, there was a little bit of desire to find out what "it" was. Honey met me at my hotel suite after work, although I gave her no choice, pulling at her with my power. Needless to say, she was a little -- upset -- at my cavalier manipulation of her mind and body, which set an initial stage of confrontation for our rendezvous. Her eyes flashed as she raged at me for being so presumptuous, and that she'd never give in to me, I was going to have to make her do it, etc. I handed her a glass of wine and pulled out a chair for me to sit on while she blew herself out. All Honey could do was get mad; I made her forget that there was a door through which she could have left.
She raved at me for five minutes. The bangs in her hair would give a little flip when Honey would toss her head to emphasize a point. She sipped the wine, which signaled the end of her tirade. "Sit down. Calm yourself, there's no need to be so upset," I said in a velvet voice. It covered the iron pull of my will, and the tension left her body almost immediately. I put her mind into the state it had been in near the end of our previous dinner date, and Honey reclined in the chair facing me, crossing her legs in an exact duplication of her pose that night. Excellent. The room was silent for a while, for I had caged Honey's fear with my power. I wanted to see what the outcome of her flowing thoughts, now unencumbered by fear, would be. She played with her hair, shoulders flush against the chair back, her legs still crossed and displayed attractively. Honey swirled her ankle absently, studying her wine glass in a relaxed manner, with a somewhat playful expression on her face. Fully dressed, and without a word, she flirted actively with me, knowing that she was incredibly sexy. I stood up and walked behind her.
Gently, I put my hands on her shoulders. The touch sent a surge of adrenaline through her system, allowing the fear to slip some of its artificial bonds. "W-w-why are you doing this to me?" she whispered.
"Because you are so pretty, and sexy, and vibrant..." I stopped as her protest formed. "Will you stop that? I've just spent the last two minutes contemplating the wonders of your physical beauty, and your clothes aren't even off yet! For the last time, you and your thighs are not too fat, understand?" It was dangerous to use my power to tinker in matters such as self-image, (another lesson learned the hard way,) so I had to rely on verbal persuasion alone.
Honey bowed her head and murmured, "Yes." She was embarrassed, but also pleased, and I felt her fear die down a little. Her reaction to the compliment temporarily tamed her misgivings. I probed gently, trying to discern her current emotional mix. Other than fear, I sensed curiosity more than anything else. It looked as if the seed of temptation I had planted was beginning to blossom. It was time. I concentrated, sending the invisible threads of my power into her mind. Honey's eyes widened as she felt the tingling sensation inside her head, but I quickly began stimulation of her pleasure centers before her fear could reassert itself. "Oh!" she peeped, surprised at the first faint stirrings of sexual pleasure. In contrast to our previous encounters, I continued the stimulation, turning her own body's chemistry against her already weakened will. Ever so slowly, Honey's breathing deepened, and her chest rose and fell more slowly. Honey's eyelids drooped, and I eased my stimulation of her brain.
"Honey?" I said, quietly. She sighed yes, very quietly. "Do you like the way I'm making you feel?" Another affirmation. This time, the vocalization was closer to a throaty purr. "I can stop if you want, and let you go now," I continued, my voice dropping to a stage whisper. Her head swiveled from side to side, a deep, languorous sigh the only sound she made. "Then you know what I want, Honey." My voice was leading; seductive.
Honey swallowed audibly, wrapped in the soft current of sexual stimulation. "M-m-m-my.. hus-bannnnd..." Her protest was feeble, made with great effort. Her eyes had closed completely, and she battled the rush I was providing. She was losing. Honey was beyond the state of suggestibility, close to what Jodie calls, "induced addiction."
"Just feel the sensation, Honey," I purred. "Let it wash through you with its gentle waves. Warm, soft waves... So good, Honey... Yessss... Let go, my sweet Honey... Give yourself to the feeling..." She moaned loudly, her resistance barely tangible to my monitoring senses. I crooned into her ear in a whisper only she could hear. "Ye-eesss, Honey. Give iiinnn to the pleasure... Give in to me... And the pleasure will last forever... Give yourself to me..."
"Ohhhh... Yess.... Take... meeee..." I felt the flood of sensations wash the last of Honey's resistance away, rendering her a willing sex thrall, but that's not quite what I wanted her to be.
"Acknowledge me, Honey. I want you, but only if you give yourself to me completely," I whispered. "But you must acknowledge me as the only one who can please you this way. You are mine..."
"I... am... yours," Honey moaned. I said nothing, increasing the amount of stimulation through our connection. "Ohhh..." she sighed. I waited. "Mass... terr..."