tagMind ControlA Man of Singular Talent Ch. 04: Swim Team

A Man of Singular Talent Ch. 04: Swim Team

byMephisto_Pegari©

The protagonist of the below story is a man gifted with the ability to control the minds and bodies of others. If you are the sort of person that likes to know the features and limitations of his power, read the author's notes at the end.

WARNING: The story below is long - 22 thousand words and change. About 95% of those words describe graphic non-consensual sex. If you are not okay with that, don't read this. If you are looking for stories with plots, character development and deep world building, don't read this.

Comments are welcome and can be addressed to me via the CONTACT tab on my profile.

*****

All characters and events are fictional. Many are illegal, immoral and/or impossible. Never try this in real life. You do not have mental powers.


*****

One of my favorite pastimes is people-watching. Sitting somewhere comfy and watching the world go by. Because I never stay more than a few nights in any one town I am often in coffee shops, cafes, bars and such, so I guess it's good that I enjoy it.

Some people like to make up stories about the lives of the people that pass by. I don't, because I'm a telepath. I can read the real stories, pulled straight out of a person's head.

That guy over by the pedestrian crossing, for example - a 45-year old insurance claim clerk who considers himself a washed out failure. The only reason he hasn't chugged a bottle of vodka with aspirin chaser is his kid, standing beside him on the sidewalk. Unfortunately the kid hates his fat loser dad - he much prefers the nice friend of his mom who visits when his father is out to work and always has candy.

... Okay, not a great example. Let's pick another from the pedestrians waiting to cross the road. Old lady thinking about buying a present for grandson, no. Obese goth chick heading to the doctor about an infected piercing, hell no. Small mousey man in brown suit, dreaming up an impressively detailed torture machine for use on his neighbors who keep him awake every night with the sounds of their vigorous lovemaking... on his way to the hardware store. Hmm, gotta follow your dreams I suppose.

I contemplate encouraging this last guy to go play with the traffic - I can not only read minds but also control them to a limited extent - but I am distracted by the thoughts of the middle-aged woman next to him. The woman herself is unremarkable, but her thoughts are occupied by images of young women. She is leafing through a mental index of different teenage girls, obviously people she knows, comparing and contrasting their physical health and attitudes.

I leave my table at the sidewalk cafe where I have been peoplewatching and follow the woman at a discreet distance as the lights change and she crosses the road. Digging deeper into her mind provides the explanation for her train of thought - she is the coach of a high school swim team, and she is planning activities for a training session tomorrow. There's a contest coming up, so they will be training the whole day, starting bright and early at the local pool.

I've always had a weakness for female swimmers - they train for whole body strength, giving them endurance without losing their essential feminine proportions. I pull the meeting time and address of the pool out of her mind and let her go. I have some shopping to do, and then I think an early night...

The next morning is cold and gray and raining heavily. Not the best conditions to be huddled in a bus shelter opposite the entrance to a swimming pool, yet here I am. The coach from before is the first to arrive. She stands at the entrance out of the rain.

Now comes the moment of greatest risk for me. I cannot control more than one mind at a time, so in order to control a group I have to give mental commands to each person in turn - a slow process. That's why I am here waiting for the swim team to meet instead of just waltzing in and putting them all under control at once.

I reach into the coach's mind and order her to stand and be silent. Her face betrays her shock and fright about no longer being in control of her body, but fortunately the rain reduces visibility enough that the young women who arrive at the pool do not notice the coach's expression until too late.

(I am unable to control expressions or speech - perhaps the required motor control is too precise, I don't know.)

As each girl arrives I reach into their minds and order them to stand still and quiet, in a group around the coach. The coach is expecting seven people, and so I wait until all seven have arrived before ordering each in turn to cross the street and follow me. I walk to the modest hotel at the end of the street and the women follow a few steps behind. It isn't far, and the early hour means the street and hotel lobby are empty (except for the hotel receptionist of course, currently face down at the desk enjoying a deep telepathically-induced sleep).

Normally in such occasions as these I book a room for my entertainment, but this time we head for the stairs to the basement. My earlier visit here had established that the hotel's basement is taken up by a gym for the use of the guests. Today there is a sign on the door apologizing for the gym being closed for maintenance, and as the group of women head down the stairs I close and lock the door behind us.

At the bottom of the stairs two doors lead to male and female changing rooms. I command the women to go through to the women's changing room, remove their jackets and stand in a line so I can get my first proper look at my acquisitions. Before me, standing in relaxed poses that belie their inner turmoil at what is happening to them, I see:

1. A middle-aged coach, short and loose-fleshed. Perhaps she looked better in her youth but if so the years have not been kind to her.

2. A slim teen with delicate features and long auburn hair. Reaching into her mind I find her name is Rachael and she is eighteen. Tight jeans emphasize her long legs, leading to a small but well-formed ass. Her looser top does not tell much about her upper body.

3. A darker-skinned girl - a dip into her mind confirms she is Latina. Maria is eighteen, with a curvy frame that promises a spectacular ass. A round face is accentuated by a short bob cut of jet black hair.

4. Alia - the shortest girl of the group, she is nonetheless the oldest at nineteen (excluding the coach). Dirty blonde hair worn at shoulder length contrasts with dark eyebrows, making me wonder what her natural color is. Guess we'll find out soon. The skirt and leggings combo obscures the shape of her lower body, but there's no hiding the large breasts swelling under her white top.

5. From the shortest girl to the tallest - Lindsey stands fully a head above the other girls. Other than her height, everything else about her is quite petite - lean legs, barely-there chest and a fresh, almost elfin face framed by long wavy dark brown hair, makes me wonder if she's not a little too young. But no, she's eighteen, and a slightly deeper peek into her memories shows her innocent looks are deceptive.

6. "Mishy" - real name Michelle but not even her family calls her that - has black hair reaching down to her slim waist. A eighteen year old Asian-Amercian.. hmm, no, not American, Hong Kong Chinese. I'm mildly curious to know what kind of accent she has (Chinese? British? American?) but I decide to wait until my inspection is complete before permitting any of the girls to speak. Freckles and dimples, cute.

7. Jemima, another large-chested girl, though the feature that catches my eye first is her full lips, accentuated by red lipstick. I look forward to sampling them. Light and dark brown streaked hair and dark eyeshadow give a mildly emo look to the eighteen year old girl.

8. Eveline is the last one I inspect. A broad face with prominent forehead, she is best described as "plain". Arms and legs thick with visible muscles - if this were a football team instead of a swim team she'd make a great quarterback.

Having passed my eye over the swim team, it is clear to me that the coach and Eveline are of no interest to me. Six out of eight, that's not bad. At my mental command the coach and Eveline leave silently to the men's changing room, where they will sleep soundly until I tell them to wake up.

Initial formalities over I ponder my next move. I could just order the remaining six girls to strip naked and have my way with them here in the changing room, but the space is cramped for seven people. Besides, they all have bathing suits with them, it would be a shame not to see how they look in them. I therefore give orders to each girl in turn, and walk out of the changing rooms, past the small shower room and into the gym proper.

The gym is a fair size for a hotel facility - a rectangular room with exercise machines down one side and a bar set into the opposite wall. Benches scattered around. All the walls are mirrored, making this windowless underground room less claustrophobic. I remove my clothes apart from my boxer briefs and hang them on one of the weight machines, then sit on a bench and wait.

As ordered, the girls emerge at the same time, dressed in their swimsuits. They line up facing me as before, and once more I admire their bodies. Rather than admire them from a distance however, this time I go up to each girl in turn and get the full experience. At the same time I reach into their minds and dig around for personal details.

Rachel's swimsuit is a brightly floral two-piece affair, with a long top part covering most of the stomach - reminiscent of a corset and panties. The bottoms are fastened at the side by a cute little bow. I doubt she could get away with this outfit in a proper swim meet. A rummage through her mind and memories shows me that despite her choice of swimsuit, she is inexperienced in sex, too shy to date boys or go to wild teenage parties.

I feel her fear spike as I reach to touch her, but she remains motionless, letting me run my hands over her nubile body. Her skin is taught and well-toned, but there really isn't much meat on this girl - I can fit fully three fingers in the gap between her legs, a fact which I appreciate much more than she does as I cup the warmth of her pussy with only a thin fabric between my hand and her outer lips.

Maria is similarly inexperienced - her conservative family has ensured that the only sex education she has had came from teen magazines and the surreptitious whispers of equally ignorant friends. She's not even that interested in swimming, it's just one of the few activities that she is allowed to attend and mix with people outside her church group. Her brown eyes are wide with fear as she turns around to present her ass to me.

Her relatively conservative black one piece swimsuit might obscure her curves from view, but not from touch. I was right about her ass - not excessively big but much more than a handful, it feels soft but firm. Reaching around I am pleased to find her breasts are a decent size as well, probably even bigger once freed from the tight swimsuit. I give Maria's ass and breasts a good squeeze each before moving on to Alia.

Looking down at Alia, my eyes are drawn to that impressive chest. Her one piece swimsuit dips low at the front, exposing a healthy amount of cleavage. This is deliberate - she knows the effect that her chest has on men. She has not yet started to actively manipulate men using her sex appeal, for the moment she uses her looks merely to get attention. But it's only a matter of time.

Her skin is tanned, unusually so for this time of year - a check of her mind reveals she's recently come back from a vacation. I pull down one strap of her swimsuit, exposing her right breast, and am pleased to see her tan extends all over. I am equally pleased to discover that I am the first male to see her fully exposed breast - for all her teasing she's never actually let an admirer get full sight of the goods (a wise move in these days of camera phones and revenge porn). I weigh her breast in one hand, feeling the fullness of it, before returning the swimsuit to its proper position.

Lindsey has opted for a white two piece - clearly some sort of sports model as the top resembles a sports bra more than a skimpy beach bikini. She is tall enough for me to face her eye to eye, and I stand close to her watching her as she watches me. Her expression is confused and fearful.

Wrapping one arm around her slim waist I pull her to me and place my lips against hers. Lindsey does not immediately respond, but a short mental command soon has her mouth open and tongue dancing with mine. She is a talented and passionate kisser, and reaching into her mind I find a short but packed history of sexual exploits with numerous men and a few women. Her innocent looks hide a burning sex drive, a powerful combination. But I have other girls waiting, so after a minute or two I reluctantly disengage and move to the next in line.

Mishy's black and gold swimsuit is technically a one piece, but there are so many slashes and exposed areas that the total cloth covered area is much less than even Lindsey's two piece affair. A quick check of her memories reveals this to be a high fashion piece, custom tailored for her. Someone has wealthy parents. It'd be easy to assume this girl is shallow and materialistic, but a look into her mind finds a bright and bubbly girl, equally happy in thrift store clothes as haute couture.

Slits under her chest allow easy access to her breasts, and I take full advantage, my hands finding her breasts to be round and firm, about the size of oranges. As with Alia, it appears I am the first man to handle her in this way; Mishy's experiences extend to heavy make out sessions and a couple of fumbled handjobs.

After a little while I withdraw my hands and have her turn around. Her ass is round and muscular and almost fully exposed as the swimsuit becomes a thong - I have no idea how practical this is for competitive swimming, but it sure as hell looks good.

The last girl to enjoy my personal attention is Jemima, in a dark red one piece. Her curves rule her out for catwalk modelling, but they are clearly the result of genetic heritage more than unhealthy living. In fact the only places where Jemima is not sporting toned muscle are her large breasts and full, lustrous mouth.

Approaching her from behind I reach one hand to her chest while the other travels south. At the same time I have her lean back into me and turn her head, allowing us to kiss as I caress her full breasts through the swimsuit fabric and stroke between her legs. I feel a tongue piercing brush my lips as Jemima runs her tongue around my mouth. Her emotions register less shock than I might expect. Perhaps she had the wits to guess this was coming.

Much stronger is the feeling of revulsion radiating from her mind - kissing me is making her literally feel like throwing up. Digging deeper I realize that it isn't just me; physical contact with any man is repulsive to her. I am not able to change a person's sexual orientation (nor would I really want to), but I at least dial back her feelings of disgust to the point where she is not going to empty her stomach all over me.

The full body contact and the feel of her lips on mine is a tactile delight, and since I have now reached the end of the line I decide to take things further. On my mental command, Jemima's hands reach under the straps of her swimsuit and pull the top half down, exposing her breasts as she turns to face me. As we resume the kiss my hands go to her chest, feeling the heavy weight of her breasts - a chest this size will droop when she's older but for now the flesh is perky and supple.

Jemima's hands reach down inside my boxers and start stroking my (understandably) very erect penis. Mine is the first penis she has ever held, but her light touch and steady stroke shows natural talent despite the loathing she has for dicks in general and mine in particular.

There is a stack of exercise mats nearby, and after Jemima has succeeded in exposing my penis completely I move away and sit on the end of the mat. Jemima follows obediently and kneels between my legs. The other girls join us, sitting in a rough circle around us except for Maria, who sits behind me with her legs on either side of me (it's a lot easier to sit up on a pile of exercise mats if there is someone behind you, plus between Maria and Jemima I am very pleasingly sandwiched in girl-flesh).

Jemima's friends get to watch as she wraps her breasts around my penis and starts to stroke my dick with her tits. The feel of her flesh rubbing rhythmically against my dick is exquisite, as is the visual of my dick sliding in and out of view between large teenage breasts. I figure now would be a suitable time to hear what Jemima sounds like, so I allow her to speak for the first time since I first took control of her and her friends.

"Ah-oh! I can talk! What the hell is going on? Let me go you asshole!"

"Sure, Jemima, go ahead and leave."

"I... I can't. What have you done to me? I can't stop, I... let me go!"

"Hmmm, let me think about it for a bit... No."

"Fuck you, you asshole. Who are you?"

"I'm the guy that you will serve with your body for the next few hours. You and your friends."

"I don't - how-"

"Clearly you need this spelled out for you. You are all here under my control. You cannot hurt me or stop me. You will do whatever I want until I am completely satisfied. Then - and only then - will I set you free. If it's any consolation you won't remember any of it. Clear?"

"You ... you can't ..."

"I can, I have and I will, Jemima. Now, as you don't seem to have anything to say that I haven't heard a thousand times before, howabout you put that beautiful mouth to a better use."

With that (and a mental command) Jemima bows her head, parts her lips and puts the head of my dick inside her warm mouth. Her breasts fall away from my shaft as she repositions herself slightly. Her lips clamp tightly around my penis and start to slide down - I have not mentally removed her ability to talk, but my dick is acting as an effective gag and all she can do is moan. I relish both the feel of her lips against the sensitive skin of my shaft, as well as the visual treat of watching this teenage girl slowly fill her mouth with her first dick. Her pierced tongue wraps wetly around my dick, while her eyes fill with tears that I do not allow her to shed.

Jemima gets about half my dick in her mouth on the first go, then starts to bob her head, leaving a smear of red lipstick halfway up my shaft. Meanwhile I have ordered her to play with her own breasts for my amusement, and she strokes and tweaks her nipples, occasionally pulling one breast up by the nipple and releasing it to bounce back into place. The other girls look on with expressions of horror that mirror their thoughts (although Lindsey's thoughts have an undercurrent of arousal to them that I find very interesting).

I lean back a little and turn my head, while Maria behind me leans forwards and to the side. Our lips meet, and I feel Maria's tongue exploring my mouth at the same time as Jemima's is exploring my dick. Maria's eyes watch Jemima pleasuring me - I hope she's studying closely, she'll get her turn soon.

I could very easily cum if this continues, but I am trying to pace myself. I have all day and half a dozen girls to enjoy myself. So after a short while I command Jemima to lift her mouth off my dick (removing her ability to speak once again). She gives the head a kiss with her soft full lips, then gets up and takes a place in the circle of girls, her swimsuit still halfway down exposing her breasts.

I decide Mishy is next, and so she rises and moves in front of me. I have her lean over my body as I break my kiss with Maria and instead lock lips with the Chinese teen. Her tongue darts around my mouth like a separate living thing. I place one hand on the back of her head, feeling the silky softness of her hair, while the other travels down her back to grasp her toned ass. I haven't forgotten about Maria: after a little while I have Mishy lean even further forward, pressing her body on top of mine, and have the two girls share their first lesbian kiss while I enjoy get a faceful of Mishy's chest.

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