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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Title: Your Mind's Eye
Author: Lt. Broccoli
Chapter Tags: MF, NonCon, Mind Control, Violence, Objects, SciFi
Content Warnings: Visiting LA and Bougie Clothes
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This story was written as part of the You Story Contest. It is a 2nd Person Point of View tale.
If there are editing issues, let me know. I'm low on time for the contest and there's a tornado rolling round about to take out my power. I'll fix it in post.
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Your Mind's Eye
Growing up, you were always kind of an outcast. As much as you tried, you always felt out of place. You couldn’t understand it at first, but you knew there was something different about you. When others were mad, you’d get pissed. When they were sad, you’d feel it too. When they said something to themselves, you’d hear it clear as day. You’d hear the little secrets they told themselves under their breath. After the first time you got your ass kicked because you heard something that they denied saying but you then knew in the deepest part of your soul that they were lying about you lying, you learned to keep your mouth shut. A couple scratches and a black eye taught you not to confront people about their secrets unless you were ready to do something about it.
The first time you realized you were one of a kind was when your mom would yell at you but her mouth never moved. Maybe she whispered to herself, but she said things you’ve never heard her say out loud. You tried to turn it off, but couldn’t. But the world would get crazier when you started seeing things. It was never what you wanted to see, but what others imagined. You’d have to try real hard to not get overwhelmed. Because of this, you couldn’t trust your own eyes and ears, and every time you’d start to talk about this to others, you would hear and see them thinking that you’re insane. For a while you could find peace at home when everyone left, but soon you’d pick up what the neighbors said and thought. You took up hiking as a way to get some quiet.
It was shortly after you turned 18 that something changed. You needed at least a C on the English final to graduate, but you couldn’t keep your mind on your work. Too many assholes thinking about fucking their classmates or getting drunk or what have you. You bombed the test. You knew the material, but couldn’t focus on anything. When Mrs. DePalma called you to the side and told you that you failed, you focused all of your being on changing her mind. In that moment, something broke inside you and soon in Mrs. DePalma. She blinked a couple times, then wrote down a C over the F on the test and updated the gradebook to reflect your new grade. The stress gave you a bloody nose, but you considered it a small price to pay for taking over another person’s thoughts.
You searched for a name. You wondered what you were, and took to the realms of the paranormal and science fiction for any way to describe what you were. That’s when you found the words.
Telepath.
Mind reader.
Dream weaver.
Psychic.
Mind walker.
They all touched on a part, but felt like they missed a piece. Telepath would be the easiest to use, if you ever had to put a label on it.
The next few years were crazy. You learned how to hone your skills, your talents, your abilities. You practiced where you could, when you could. You learned how to block out the noise when needed, and how to ride the waves of thought to get to your destination. You figured out how to conceal your powers from those around you. At first it was out of fear that they would try to have you committed, but later because you figured they’d be jealous of the power you wield. You learned how to plant ideas in others. You started with little lies, gaslighting people over small things like where they parked or how they ordered their coffee. You escalated, eventually erasing and rewriting major life events like where they worked or who they married. You found your limits, but even those felt more like goals to strive for with enough work, not like they were hard limits. You discovered you could learn any skill or trade or language if you could read how someone else learned it. You taught yourself Mandarin by sitting in a coffee shop, pulling it from the mind of a graduate student. You learned how to make meth by listening to a tweaker tell himself his shopping list over and over in his head. You had passwords, passcodes, and keys a plenty. You could see through others eyes.
The biggest thing you discovered was that you could move objects with your mind. Telekinesis. You were sloppy at first, and could only move small items like coins and buttons. By the time you were ready for action, you could tease someone from across the room.
By this point you pivoted from learning how to use your talents to protect yourself to using them to enrich yourself. You manipulated bankers and investors into giving you enough seed money to start a small hedge fund. You read the minds of tech bros and invested in the right companies at the right times. You blackmailed the right city officials to get favors done by seeing where they buried the bodies, metaphorically and figuratively.
After a while, you stopped looking at people on the street as peers but as prey.
The first time you used your powers to satisfy desires of the flesh came a month after high school. You had just learned how to plant thoughts and adjust other’s emotions when you did some yard work for Mrs. Sabrina Espinoza down the street. She was a curvy Latina in her 40’s who asked for some help with landscaping. You could feel her eyes on you and felt how horny she was, but her inhibitions kept her from making a move. You poked and prodded her mind, finding the justifications and excuses she would use for cheating. You saw that her husband and kids were out of town visiting their grandma while she had to stay behind to be close to her papi. A little teasing in her mind of some of her favorite fantasies and erotic stories and she was justifying to herself that maybe one dalliance would be her little secret. You suggested that she should invite you inside to clean up and grab something cold to drink. You read her mind as she flirted with you and you responded by doing what she wanted and needed. You did the same thing to her that you’ve done to teachers over the years by taking the answers from their minds. Sabrina begged for you to kiss her in her mind, and you obliged. After the first kiss she felt panic as reality set in, but you pushed that down as you pushed her up against the wall. You quieted any resistance she had as you bent her over her kitchen table and fucked her sweet pussy. You listened to her internal monologue as you pushed her to cum on your dick, right before you pulled out and blew your load on her tits and stomach. Before you left, you planted a rather forceful suggestion that she will not tell anyone about what happened, but left the door open to you coming back. And cum on her back again that summer, you did many times.
But all that was in the past, when you were young and naive. Add almost a decade of honing your skills and life experience and you have it made. You’re independently wealthy, having made a small fortune stealing secrets and investing based on the knowledge you’ve gained. You don’t need a day job anymore but serve on several corporate boards for local businesses to establish connection and gain secrets. And when you feel like getting laid, you do. As your powers increased, your tastes became more prurient. Sure, basic 1-on-1 sex can still be fun, but few things excite you quite like taking a woman by force through her own mind, or turning her into your own personal fucktoy, making her shatter every taboo like Tom Brady did to the playoff record book.
A couple weeks ago you had trouble sleeping. Ironically, as a telepath you don’t dream often. At least you don’t recall your dreams since you learned how to control that part of your mind, so having them is pretty alarming. The dreams have been getting weirder and more vivid. At first it was vague images of a woman being chased through the woods, then waking up groggy and hazy, like you were drugged. But it wasn’t you. You were a redheaded woman, naked, bound to a table. These dreams kept up for a few days like that, but then it went crazy. You were that woman again, but you weren’t groggy. You were awake and pissed. You saw a shitload of men. They were Chinese soldiers. You took out your anger on them. You reached out with your mind and killed so, so many of them. Aneurysms, broken necks, throwing them through the air. Fuck, you dropped a safe on one guy like it was a Wile. E. Coyote cartoon. You stopped bullets in mid-air like you were Neo, and sent them back at the shooters. By your count, you killed at least 30 men without breaking a sweat. You broke a lot of shit and alarms went off. Someone talked to you, a woman telling you that the place was going to flood and you needed to get out immediately. You saw several women tied up and unable to escape, so you grabbed them with your mind and dragged them behind you. The beds. You used your mind to drag beds behind you as you made your way down a hallway as warning klaxons sounded. That voice said something, but came from a different person this time. You hadn’t spoken yet. You heard a second voice call out to you. It was a man you know and trust. You don’t recognize him, but the woman in the dream loves him and you collapse in his arms. The rest of the dream is blur as you and others escape an underground facility. Next thing you know you’re dressed in workout clothes and sitting in a room with the man talking in badly accented Mandarin. You understood what was happening. This man executed a coup in China, killing a bunch of top level government officials with less stress than a Karen uses to order a latte.
For the next few weeks you’ve had more and more dreams, and they all seem to have the same vibe and message.
Go to Los Angeles. Meet with us. Be with your kind. We are building something.
You followed that message. You booked a flight and a suite in the Ritz-Carlton for a couple weeks. You had a good idea where you needed to go, but wanted to explore the city a bit, have some fun, enjoy yourself while you investigate who these people are. You spent the first few days tearing apart the dream, trying to find any clues to where you needed to go. You narrowed it down to a skyscraper called South Park Center. You walked over on your third day in the city and scoped the place out. You got a weird feeling about the place, like someone was watching you from the corners of their eyes. You spent most of the day hanging going back between that building and traveling to the USC campus. For some reason, that school felt familiar to you, even though you’ve never been there. It was from the dreams. That woman was a student there, and lived in the South Park Center. Too bad she didn’t look into a bunch of mirrors during her dream. You set up shop in a coffee shop near the South Park Center, hoping to sus out who she was. All you had to go on was a few glimpses of long, red hair and a that man’s face. Try as you might, you didn’t see them all day.
After a few hours you returned to your hotel. You couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you the whole time. This wasn’t the normal gawking that you got back home. Too many people knew you there. Here, you just look like a tourist in an expensive Jacquemus hoodie and matching shorts. You spent a few minutes walking back to the hotel, stopping by the main door. You pulled out your cell phone to look like you’re scrolling, but it was just a cover. You opened your mind to the cacophony of passers by as their thoughts came rolling in. You filtered them out, one at a time until you found the ones you were looking for. You found two voices in the crowd paying attention to you. One belonged to a skinny white man across the street. The other flitted around, like it was bouncing around from person to person. That one was definitely a woman with an accent, like Mexican or something. As you tried to pinpoint where she was coming from, the skinny man tagged you following the other voice.
“I think he made you.” The man said in his mind. You instantly looked at him. He knew he was caught. “Shit, he made me too. He’s who he thought he was.” The woman said something in Spanish that took you a few moments to translate but in that time, the man disappeared into the crowd. You waited a moment trying to find her, but gave up and went into the hotel.
You pulled up a seat at the Corteza bar, trying to wrap your mind around what happened and find a distraction. As you drank an overpriced beer, someone bumped into you as they walked past. You looked to see who it was, looked like a member of a family headed to the adjoining steakhouse. That’s when you heard her for the first time.
“Ay yay yay, this is different. Try not to act strange, I’m in your head.” You heard the voice say. Definitely a woman’s voice with a hispanic accent. “Ai papi, you looking good.” She said as you looked at the mirror behind the bar. “No, you’re not losing your mind, I’m just visiting.”
You almost opened your mouth to speak, then thought different. You instead spoke with your mind. “Who are you, and what’s next?”
“Me, I’m Ana. We saw you checking out our home earlier today. You came her because of the dreams?” You just nodded. “Thought so. There’s not many of us, and we’re all at different stages and powers. Me, my body’s so broken I’ll never be whole again, but I’ve figured out how to exist as a ghost. Normally I’d just hop in, but mindwalkers like us are hard to just zip in to without knowing.”
“Mindwalkers? Telepaths?”
“Si. We can tell when someone enters our mind, so I had to have someone bump into you to distract you. That way we could talk.”
“Makes sense.” You thought. “So what’s the next steps?”
“Straight to the chase. I like that.” Ana said. “Stay in town for a couple nights. Tonight, come to the South Park Center tower, you know the place. I’ll text the number from your phone, one sec…” You texted a phone number you didn’t know, and let Ana take control. “There. You’ll have the code to get in. Scan it when you arrive. Dress code is, well, won’t be much of one later on. Al’s having some friends over, and some not-so-friendly friends and soon-to-be-more-than-friends coming over. You’re our new friend, and what better way to get to know a new friend than a party.” You sensed like this wasn’t an invitation you could turn down even if you wanted to. And the way Ana phrased things made you question what you were walking in on.
“Guess I’ll head over tonight.” You thought to Ana.
“Great. You’ll have a ton of fun. Before I go, mind if I stick around through dinner? I can’t taste food unless I’m in someone else’s mind while they eat, and you look like you can afford a good steak. I haven’t had steak in a while. I’m mostly riding along with a couple friends who are vegetarian, and I miss me a good steak.”
You nodded as you took your beer to the adjoining steakhouse and ate one of the best Peruvian Beef’s you’ve ever had. While doing so, Ana told you a little about who you’d be meeting. The two people that caught your attention were Al and Meg. Al was in his 40’s and seemed to be bankrolling the operation and was in charge of things. Meg was his protege, and generally a sweet woman with a bit of a temper if properly pushed. You and Ana thought about your background, what it was like growing up with powers and how you used them.
After dinner, you freshened up then made your way to the South Park Center by foot. Ana said she had to report back and flitted away as you were in the elevator down to the lobby. She landed in a young woman who smacked your ass on the way out and smiled, only to look mortified when she realized what she did. You laughed, knowing it was Ana.
15 minutes later you arrived at the tower. Security was tight, but you scanned that code that Ana had texted to you and made your way in. The invite was for entry to the 30th floor. You made your way up there via the elevator. You rode it in verbal silence with 4 others, but easily heard the conversations between them in your mind. They were also talking to each other using telepathy. You tried to act like you didn’t know what they were doing, but recognized one of the men as the skinny man from earlier in the day. He made you and sent a signal to the others that you could hear him.
“I talked with Ana earlier. She sent me to talk to Al and Meg.” You said in your mind just loud enough for the others to catch it. They turn to you, unsure of what to make of you. The elevator dings for the 30th floor and you exit. The others stay on.
You make your way down a long corridor, walking through what feels like an office complex. You look at your phone, which gives you directions on where to go. You stop outside of a solid wood door. As you’re about to knock, it opens to an opulent office. You feel a presence that beckons you forward.
You enter this well decorated office and see two people. A man in his 40’s wearing a tailored suit sits in a leather chair behind a mahogany desk. To his right, your left, stands a beautiful woman with alabaster skin and long, red hair.
You recognize these people from your dreams, and for a brief moment you have never felt terror like this before. You shove that feeling down as they both look at you. You feel a pressure in your mind, like someone trying to break through a door. Except it isn’t a door made of wood or steel, it’s one of thoughts. Your thoughts, and you realize that these two are trying to force their way into your mind. You steel yourself for the battle you just walked into.
The man, who you soon discover is this Al you’ve heard about, pokes and prods around your mind while mindlessly talking about mundane shit like the weather and traffic and asking if you flew commercial or a private jet. You’re sweating bullets just trying to keep him out. His mention of Delta reminded you of a bad experience you had with that airline, and you feel him use that sneak his way in to your mind. You push him out after a second, but then he counters with a quip about different kinds of pizza, and how California pizza is better than Chicago pizza. You don’t have any skin in the game, but you see for the first time the tendrils of thought he’s using to get past your defenses. You grab onto one with your mind and try to ride it back into his mind, but are immediately slapped away like a kid caught reaching for the cookie jar. After what feels like ages, you can tell that you can’t hold out against this onslaught forever and assess a new strategy. You see a connection between the two of them that is symbiotic. Instead of trying to go after Al, you feint in a mental move to scan the redhead, hoping the distraction is enough to get a glimpse into either of their minds. They both see you go after the woman’s mind, and you use that millisecond to get into Al’s mind. You feel a coldness of fact and harshness of decision followed by a fleeting sense of pride and warmth.
Right before your ass is sent sprawling against the wall behind you.
The room goes dark, and the last thing you hear in your mind is “That was a little uncalled for…”. You’re pretty sure it was Al that said it, but you can’t be sure.
You wake up a little while later. You’re not in the office anymore, but in a bedroom. It is very spartan in decoration, so you assume this is either a guest bed or Al’s. Your suspicion is confirmed when Al walks in with Meg by his side.
“Sorry about that earlier. We needed to test your abilities to see if you were who we thought you were.” Al said this out loud and with his mind.
“And what’s that?” You said, groaning through the headache and likely concussion you suffered after being hurled ten feet into a reinforced concrete wall.
“One of us. He’s Al, I’m Meg.” Meg said. You got her name this time. Meg, short for Megan. “I’m sorry about… that. I get a little defensive at times, you understand. We’ve, well, I’ve repaired the broken bones and the bruises will go away in a couple days. The concussion is harder to clear up, but you’re glad to stay and recuperate as long as you’d like, as long as you’d need.”
Your head hurts but you caught enough of the conversation to grab a few important details. “Wait, broken bones?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you that hard. I kind of broke your back. And your skull. And most of your ribs and your left hip. We’ve spent the last couple days putting you back together.” Meg said.
“Not much of a we in this. Meg pretty much repaired your body herself. She mended all of the bones and all of the tears as well. The muscles will be better soon. I pretty much just made sure you didn’t die during the process. Ana helped too.”
“When you scanned me to get to him, you touched a part of me that is rather…protective of him. I’m assuming you saw the dreams?”
“Yeah.” You said, noticing that it hurts to breathe deeply.
“Well, you touched that. I know you weren’t trying to, but you hit an open wound that I thought I’d closed. It wasn’t closed enough I guess.” Meg said. She sat down on the bed and put her hands on yours. You felt a surge of energy run through your body. The parts that were the most sore feel a little better. You try to put into words what she just did.
“Cure light wounds?” You say the words out loud before you even register that you spoke. Al chuckles a bit as Meg laughs.
“I guess. But I’m not the party’s cleric. One of the… talents I’m working on is energy transference. It’s kind of hard to wrap your head around at first, but the short version is I’m learning how to use these skills to share energy and apply focused telekinesis to certain spots to either repair or damage the body. In your case, I’ve spent the last few days pouring energy into you to repair what was broken. The hard tissues like bones are easier to fix this way than the soft tissues, though the soft stuff just soaks up the energy like a sponge. You’ve finally regained consciousness for long enough to have a halfway decent conversation. Like I said, I’m sorry about hurting you like that.”
You nod, accepting her apology. Part of you realizes that she is genuinely sorry for causing you this much pain and distress. The other part knows that she could’ve easily finished the job without a second thought.
“How long have I been out?” You ask. They look like they’re doing some mental math.
“3 or 4 days. Which, now that we’ve got these pleasantries out of the way, I’ve got a mission for you. Pretty sure you’ll like it.” Al said.
“Wait, what?”
“A mission. It’s an invitation to a party I’m hosting. I need another set of eyes and ears there. Besides, I feel like I owe you after this. Pretty sure you’ll like the party favors.” With that, an image of a couple sexy singers flood into your mind. Some of these are memories of past instances with them, others are desires waiting to happen. He then sends the details of the mission straight into your mind, along with the details needed.
The long and short of it is that he needs your help to blackmail some AI tech bros. They’re coming over for a party thinking they’re going to be dick deep in primo pussy. Instead they will imagine and live through a fantasy. While they’re doing that, you’ll dig through their minds and pull any and all secrets you can get on their upcoming projects, with special focus on how their AI’s could be used to help crack the Blossoming problem. If you pull this off, you will get your choice of the “primo pussy” promised to the bros.
After a couple days, you were right as rain and joined Meg and Al on a trip to San Francisco to meet with the Tech Bros. They questioned why you were there. Al said you were an investor from out of town and that Meg was his assistant. They bought it without question after Al laid it on thicker than a meringue. Just as the Tech Bros thought the ‘entertainment’ was coming, you saw Al and Meg work their magic. Meg suspended their reality and created a whole new one while Al fed her what their desires were. She crafted a shared reality for all of us, and only the three telepaths knew it was fake. While they convinced the Tech Bros they were tag teaming Tate McRae, you went through their minds and discovered all of their secrets. Everything. By the time everyone was done, you knew enough to start your own AI company and have it compete with OpenAI.
You also discovered that you weren’t really needed for this mission. You saw that Meg didn’t even break a sweat and could easily handle the whole thing by herself and still have power and time left over to cook a delicious meal. You were brought on for what you believe was either a ploy to make you feel needed or a test to see if you were loyal to Al. You helped Al and Meg complete their task.
As far as your reward goes, that’s what led to tonight.
You were called to the 32nd floor of the South Park Center tower. Al’s Penthouse suite. He said he had something for you, something that you would appreciate and a way of saying thanks.
You enter the tower past security, through the lobby and trigger the security patch that requires a little telekinesis to complete the circuit to get the button for the 32nd floor to light up. Ingenious device, really. There’s enough voltage running through the access panel to shock anyone to opens it up and some small-scale explosives behind that. An exposed wire requires being moved into place to complete the circuit and then moved to let the door open. If it’s connected for the whole ride, it triggers the flashbang grenade.
You enter the Penthouse and check yourself out in the mirror. You’re made up pretty nice, wearing a pair of designer jeans and a stylish t-shirt that costs more than some car payments. Your shoes are the latest Air Jordan’s because you like the look and feel. You make a left and a right towards the lounge. There’s a note on the door.
“Thanks for helping on that thing the other day. Aside from the half of a percent equity in the new company, I got you a little something. She’s all yours for the night. Just need to return her home by Midnight with nothing permanent, at least on the outside.
Don’t worry, she’s legal.
”You recognize Al’s handwriting. It’s that old school cursive signature with the chickenscratch of someone who thinks faster than they write. You hold the note before feeling the door. You can’t pick up direct thoughts without a line of sight, but you can read the general vibe of the room. There’s one woman in there, and she’s nervous. You take a deep breath and open the door.
The emotions and worries flowed off of her so fast you are almost overwhelmed as soon as you opened the door. Almost, but not quite. You catch every thought that flows from her mind as you enter. She’s scared shitless about what you will do with her, but knows she needs to for her careers as a singer and actress. She remembers what her friends told her about having to sleep with Executive Producers but thought she was better than that, at least until she saw girls she’s better than getting roles that were hers. She talked to herself enough to give her name and let you ride in. Her name is Carmen, she’s 18, a cute Latina with dyed red hair and curves in just the right places. She’s wearing a strapless black dress with a plunging neckline, showing off her ample cleavage and a slit up the side, showing off her legs. Her heels were a little too tight for her, and she tried to not focus on how uncomfortable the tiny thong was nor how she wasn’t wearing a bra.
You walked in and introduced yourself, playing nice for a minute. You offered her a drink, and she took a whiskey on the rocks, hoping it would make her look older and more sophisticated. In reality, she hated it. You didn’t like it either, but Al kept a bottle of Dalmore Matheson in his bar, and you never turn down a glass of whiskey that goes for $60,000 a bottle. Carmen talked about her music, her acting, and her future while you nodded and smiled. You sit across the room from her, sitting on a leather couch opposite from the one she’s sitting on. You probed her mind, looking for the experience you gave a shit about. Somehow in Hollywood she managed to not have to fuck a Producer or Casting Agent to get a gig, though she’s had sex a couple times with a boyfriend. Too bad, you really wanted to pop her cherry. But as you casually turn the conversation to dancing, you use that to probe her memory. No one’s fucked her ass yet, and she’s refused giving a blowjob. You smile, knowing that’s about to change.
As she takes another sip of whiskey, you reach out with your mind to tease her. Using teek, you graze the back of her neck, causing her to look around. Her distraction lets you shift your machinations to her legs, then her flanks. The great thing with teek powers is that you’re not limited to two hands. She’s getting flustered as you now start stroking her face and neck and legs. Carmen doesn’t know what’s going on, and is starting to get scared, embarrassed, and aroused all at once. You keep the teasing up until she finishes the drink. That’s when you let the assault go to the next level.
As you get up to offer her another drink, you use your mind to stroke the inside of her legs, from her knee to her crotch. She loses her concentration as the teek assault continues, unsure how this is happening. You look at the young woman and feel how terrified she is right now. Then you look at her, back to the bar, and back to her. You pour yourself another drink, then take the bottle back to Carmen. You hand it to her as you sit down and pull your phone out of your pocket.
“Show me how you’d fuck yourself with that bottle.” You said with a strong suggestion behind it. She tried to protest, but you shut that down. You have your phone up and recording now, as you put the command in her mind that she has to comply.
With shaking hands she pulls her dress up, and her thong panties are already moist. Within a minute she starts masturbating through her panties before sliding them to the side. She sucks the end of the bottle to glisten it up as she plays with her pussy with her right hand, her long fingers flicking the hood. She tries to plead with you to turn the phone off or not make her fuck herself with the whiskey bottle, but it only comes out as “Please, may I fuck this bottle sir?” The words terrify her as you nod. A moment later and she’s pushing the bottle past her outer lips and into her quim. She lets it sit there for a moment as she builds up the courage to continue. A sudden compulsion forces her to start fucking herself as she lays flat on her back. She takes a moment from fucking the Dalmore to uncover her tits, and you use your teek powers to suck on her nipples from across the room. As she fucks herself, you tease her over and over until she can’t handle it anymore. You make sure to get her cumming on the bottle on video. She looks ashamed at what she’s just done, but you use your skills to make her suck the bottle clean of her juices before she gets back to fingering herself for you.
“Crawl over here and suck my dick.” You command her. She looks at you fearfully as she crawls on the ground, another command you gave her to humiliate her further. Carmen stops between your legs and begs for you to stop this. “I can’t wait to suck your cock, sir. Please, may this slut suck your cock?” The voice sounds sultry and sexy but the eyes give it away. She doesn’t trust her herself and can’t believe what’s happening. Before you can say a word, she’s already unzipping your jeans as you lift your ass up off the couch to let her shimmy them off. She frees your dick from your shorts and starts sucking your dick. She tries to recoil from the sensation, but she can’t. You hold her head in place with your mind, not letting her stop. You force her head down on your cock and she gags. You do a little magic to teach her how to suppress her gag reflex and fuck her face. You record the whole thing on your phone, especially as you’re about to cum.
“Cum on my face. Please cum on my face and my tits.” She tried to say no and beg you to stop, but you decide that having her sound like a porn star each time she tries to beg for you to stop is even more cruel and humiliating.
“As you wish, my little slut.” You aim for her face and blow your load all over her it, getting a good load right above her eye, some on her nose, and then down her chin and on her tits. You plant a command that she should lick up and eat as much as possible, which she gleefully does. Again, you record the whole thing.
Since you need a breather, you decide you want a show. Once again, you command Carmen to fuck herself for your viewing pleasure. She strips completely down showing off her sexy body. You give her some items to use from the bar cart, like the ice cubes, tongs, and bottles. You let her talk, but it always comes out as slutty talk from a porno and not her pleading for mercy.
Once you’re ready to go again, you pull her over and make her fuck you. She rides you so you can suck on her titties. Carmen’s getting into the mood and letting go of her inhibitions. How much of that is you breaking her out of her shell and letting out the inner slut and how much is you adjusting her personality is up for debate. You fuck for what feels like an hour but you know it’s only 10 minutes before you decide that it’s time to take that ass cherry. She keeps getting closer and closer to cumming but you stop before she lets loose.
You bend her over the edge of the couch and command her to spread her asscheeks. Carmen begs you to not do this but “Please Papi, fuck my ass” escapes her mouth.
“As you wish, my perfect little slut.” You make sure to record your dick going into her ass for the first time. You push a little at first as she screams, her no’s coming out as pleas to go further and further, until you bottom out inside her ass. She is so tight it hurts, but you struggle through and fuck her perfect little bum, using your teek to play with her clit and tits at the same time.
You plant a suggestion in her mind that the best orgasms she’ll have in her life will come from anal sex. The harder the better. The nastier the better. You hold her orgasm off until you’re ready to cum. Instead of blowing her load in her shitter, you pull out and grab her by her long red hair and force your dick into her mouth. You let her cum right as you blow your load down her throat, going ass to mouth on the young starlet and singer.
You check the clock and see that it’s getting late right as you collapse on the couch. Carmen cuddles with you for a moment, partially out of how great she came but also out of you subtly commanding that she should. The two of you rest for a bit, but you plant some more commands in her mind. First, she can’t tell anyone what actually happened. That’s for her and you alone. Second, the programming stays in place. That’s so you can come back and use her again and again. To be fair, this is your first run-in with a celebrity of sorts out in LA. She can be useful. Third, her inhibitions for fucking producers and agents needs to go. She’ll be the best whore for you, and will be useful and famous if she listens to you and your friends. Before cleaning up, you two had one more round, starting off with a 69 and ended with you fucking her missionary on the couch before cumming in her twat. This time it seemed like she was more into it. You two talked about other projects and she mentioned some other actresses she works with. You planted something in the background that she should bring her friends along sometime, and left a little kernel that will sprout into a taboo desire to fuck her friends in more ways than one.
With that, you both cleaned up. Her ride picked her up shortly before Midnight while you left a note for Al, thanking him for the great time and letting the two of you enjoy his whiskey. You sent him a copy of the video showing how much Carmen enjoyed it. He laughed at it and said “that’s why the bottle smelled different.”
You wrap up things in LA and headed home. You would keep in contact with Al and Meg going forward. Not just because of the fun you had, not just because you and them make up close to 10% of the telepath population in the United States, but they just made you a billionaire. That half of one percent will end up being part of a trillion dollar company, and you’re tied in to so much of their network now that they need you to expand further.
But in the meantime, you return to your small Midwestern city and play big fish in the small pond, making sure that Carmen knows to bring her friends with her on tour when they ever visit Harbor City.
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Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, give it a like and check out my other stories in the bio below.
so kudos there! The subject matter was super captivating.
such as fucking the bottle and sucking cock 
and that’s on industry fame whores 
