A Man of Singular Talent - Redwing

I remove Linnea's speaking ability and restore Amelie's, then issue some further mental instructions. We move to the other end of the bed (the sheets have gotten rather sweaty on this half). Amelie is once again lying on her back. She lifts and parts her legs, bringing her arms up to pull her legs back as far as she can manage. Her pussy and asshole are completely exposed, a situation not unnoticed by the alarmed redhead as I move to stand between her legs.

Linnea meanwhile has placed herself, still on her elbows and knees, to be at a right angle to Amelie, her head close enough to Amelie's hips that she can bend down and take my dick in her mouth. I feel Linnea's tongue again flitting around my dick, and reaching into her mind I see that she is almost grateful to be sucking me, compared to having her pussy and asshole abused so thoroughly moments before. Gratitude is a strange reaction; I reach down and over and slap Linnea's ass hard, causing her to jerk forwards.

"I haven't finished with your ass, Linnea. I've hardly even started."

The slap and my words have the desired effect; any feeling of relative happiness is replaced with dread at what I have planned (in truth I'm mostly just winging it now, but she doesn't need to know that). Of course her feelings do not stop her from servicing my dick as my mental commands have compelled her; she continues to keep my arousal levels high with her adept tongue-work.

"But first, I have one more ass to fuck. Never had it in your ass, have you Amelie?"

"..non-no."

Amelie's fear at what is coming is written all over her face. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her arm muscles are tense as she grips her ankles. But a quick look in her mind shows the inevitability is bringing back her earlier fatalism. Amelie is resigned to her fate, and sees no point in begging or pleading.

On my command Linnea wraps her lips tightly around my shaft before slowly sliding them away, her cheeks concave from sucking until the head pops out from between them. I align my dick to Amelie's open asshole, the head touching her skin.

"Hey Amelie, what's "fuck my ass" in French?"

"E-Encule moi."

I start to push. Amelie's anal muscles close up but I press harder and the tip of my dick slowly enters her ass.

"Ah!"

"Say it again"

"Encule moi."

Now that the head is past the entrance the shaft of my dick starts slowly disappearing into Amelie. The skin around her asshole stretches as it is pulled inwards.

"Aïe! Merde!"

"Say it again"

"Ca fait maaal!"

"Say it again"

"Encule moil! AAAH!"

My initial push gets my dick about halfway in Amelie's ass before the resistance gets too much. I look down and see the French redhead's no-longer-virgin ass wrapped around my dick as her anal passage flexes and ripples around my shaft. It's a beautiful sight, made even more so when I start pumping my dick inside her. Small jerks at first, graduating to longer, deeper thrusts as her asshole opens up and I can fit more of my dick inside Amelie. Amelie's protests get more intense the deeper and harder I fuck her ass, but my mental commands mean they never rise above normal speaking volume, no matter how urgent and desperate she becomes.

"Aah. Aah! Fuc...merde, non, c'est tro-AAh! God, no, pl- ugh! Ah!"

I build up a steady pace - no subtlety here, all I want to do it fuck this girl's ass and that's exactly what I am doing. Amelie's chest is flushed red, her breasts bouncing every time I push my hips forwards. Her face is flushed red too, mouth open as she gasps and moans, hair coming loose from its arrangement as her body moves against the bed. Linnea is still on all fours beside us, but for now I want her only to watch as I violate Amelie.

I don't even notice when my dick becomes fully embedded in her ass, but before I know it I am stroking my entire length into Amelie, relishing the feeling of cool air before my dick plunges into her warm, tight asshole. The slim redhead is still holding her legs up, almost bent double, her hands gripping her legs hard enough to leave bruises.

"Oh Jesus, please, it is- ah! huuh! Ah, ça fait mal, je-ah!"

I feel my balls tighten. I'm moments away from cumming hard. On a whim I grab Linnea's head and almost slam it down to Amelie's waist. Linnea is shocked by my sudden move, opening her mouth in surprise just as I slip my dick out of Amelie's red raw asshole and start cumming. By random luck the first stream of cum flies straight into Linnea's open mouth and down her throat. Linnea reflexively closes her mouth as she starts to choke and cough, but I hold her head in place both with my hand and with my mental abilities, so the next load coats her full lips. After that my ejaculation loses some velocity, and the rest falls short of Linnea's face and instead lands on Amelie's pussy; I angle down slightly to get some on her asshole as well.

I realize that I've been making my own moans as I come, mixing with Amelie's continued pleading and Linnea's coughing and heaving as she struggles to breathe through my cum. I worry a little about being too noisy, so I remove Amelie's ability to speak. Reaching out with my mind I sense the people in the adjacent room are still asleep, luckily.

I take a step back and admire my work. The French redhead teacher is lying naked, her legs still held by her arms and her body covered in a sheen of sweat. Her asshole is red and swollen and sticky with my cum. The Swedish blonde teen is kneeling with her head resting on Amelie's waist, her lips covered in cum. Her round shapely ass is raised in the air - it'd be a good position to fuck her if I hadn't just completely emptied my balls.

Looking at the alarm clock on the bedside table (red LED digits like something from the 1990s), its 12:20 a.m. I feel completely drained and I know if I laid down now I'd probably sleep through to morning. But I haven't forgotten the dark-haired student; in fact thinking of her produces the mildest of twitches in my rapidly-deflating dick. I would not have the energy to properly toy with her until I sleep, but I still have some arrangements to make before then.

With a couple of mental commands Amelie releases her legs and she and Linnea lie down side by side on the damp, stained sheets before immediately falling asleep. I stagger off to the bathroom for a hot shower, which both cleans and partially revives me, then dress and head out of the door.

The dark-haired girl's room is a few doors down on the other side. I realize I'd forgotten to dig through Amelie's mind for her name and other details, but no matter; a sleeping mind is somewhat easier to extract information from than an awake mind anyway. I pass my key over the lock, which unlocks with a beep and a click. I pause, but I hear no sounds from within, so I carefully open the door and step inside.

The room is dark, but the light from the hallway reveals that it is bigger than the teacher's room. The basic arrangement is the same - small corridor with a door at the side leading to a bathroom. Bedroom at the end of the corridor. I Walk into the main room, and see the bed - beds, plural. Three beds in fact, each one occupied by a sleeping form. I really should have scanned for minds before opening the door.

I quickly reach into each sleeping mind and make sure they will sleep soundly no matter what until I deliberately choose to awaken them. That done, I close and lock the door and hit the lights. Another typical hotel room, decorated and furnished the same as Amelie's except the room is longer to accommodate the three single beds. Two of the sleepers are covered by sheets, but the one closest to me has thrown them off in the night and is mostly uncovered. I pass my eye over her at the same time as I scan her mind.

Juliette Couffaine is an eighteen year old with a definite goth style. Her hair is long, probably reaching past her hips if she were standing up, black at the top shading to a deep purple at the end. Half her face is covered by a lick of hair, also purple at the end. Her slim body is covered by a lacy black camisole and matching loose panties. Attractive and dark-haired certainly, but not the girl I had seen from across the street.

As I remove the sheet from the girl in the next bed I am pleasantly surprised to see she sleeps naked. Well, almost naked - orange panties cover her most sensitive areas. Otherwise her body is exposed - long legs leading to a slim but athletic torso, b- or c-cup breasts with inverted nipples. This girl keeps herself in great shape and apparently isn't afraid to show it, sleeping almost naked in a room with two classmates. Thick light brown hair frames a round face with a wide mouth. Her forehead is completely obscured by a row of brown bangs with a razor straight fringe. Reaching into her mind brings up a name - Lucia Rossi - and an age - eighteen. Again, an attractive and welcome addition but not the girl I'm looking for.

It must be the final bed. I lift off the sheet (a little difficult as the occupant is lying on her side holding one end) and there finally is the girl who brought me to this hotel, to this room in the middle of the night. My first impression was accurate - she is an extremely attractive package. A cute face with a button nose and prominent cheekbones, whatever she is dreaming right now is turning her shapely lips up into a lopsided smirk. Pale skin contrasts with dark black, almost blue hair, shoulder length with two pigtails at the back tied with red ribbons. She is the most conservatively dressed of the three, in short-sleeved pink and white pajamas. I reach into her mind and-

-and experience resistance. Which means she has talents of her own. My mind shies back, and I take a seat at the chair by the desk (identical to the ones in Amelie's room). I'm lucky that she is asleep, otherwise my usual casual scan would almost certainly have been noticed. My earlier command to ensure her sleep also seems to have been deflected - she could wake any moment. This is a surprising and disconcerting development, but one I have experienced before. My talents are extremely rare, but not unique.

I send a much more discreet scan of the girl's mind, feeling around the edges to get a shape of her talents without causing another reaction. I cannot tell how her power manifests from this, but I can at least confirm that she has it, can use it, and is of a strength similar to mine if not greater. This is the second shock of the night, and is much more profound. I have met (and neutralized) other talents, but none with power levels comparable to mine. I sit back in the chair and close my eyes to focus. This is going to take work.

A couple of hours later I had managed to sneak past the dark-haired girl's natural defenses and explore her memories. Her name is Marine Mallard, eighteen years old. Her abilities were latent until very recently when she came into possession of a totem artifact - some kind of doll which is currently residing in a purse on the bedside table, but I'm not ready to look at that yet. I've met talents before who rely on such totems, usually believing that the artifact gives them power. It doesn't; the power is inside them already and the artifact merely triggers it due to some unusual reality-warping properties. From her memories I can see Marine's powers manifest physically, not mentally as mine do. With the help of her powers she leaps and jumps around Paris dressed in... a skintight bird costume? This is singularly odd, but made even odder by memories of others dressed in outlandish garb playing superheroes, most especially a boy dressed as some kind of cat-themed leather fetishist. I find that people's talents work differently according to how they think they obtained them and what their own influences are; some think it magic and so their talents emerge as 'spells', others think themselves demons or angels. Marine and the cat-boy clearly have been reading too many comic books.

Any talented person I meet cannot be permitted to keep their abilities, in case they use them against me. I have never figured out how to reduce or alter a person's talent. Destroying a person's talent however is simple enough. So I begin the task of erasing the 'Redwing' from Marine.

The instant I begin to unravel her talents I discover her mental defenses are deeper than I had thought. I open my eyes to see the totem floating in the air before flying towards Marine. Realizing this is about to get about as bad as it can go I abandon all subtlety and lash out at Marine's center of talent. The totem (which I remember Marine calls "Toki") falters for a second but then resumes its path. Marine is awake, sitting up in bed, as the totem lands on her.

"Toki, transforme moi!"

I feel a wave of unreality emanate from Marine. She stands on the bed as her clothes appear to change from pajamas to the skintight costume I had seen in her memories - red with black lines accessorized by a similar-patterned domino mask and a round object at her hip. In fact this is an optical illusion, but only another person with talents could see that. It also takes talent to notice the flaws in the illusion - in some places her power dominates reality, in others she can barely maintain her control. Redwing (because that is who Marine is now) turns to face me.

Qui êtes vous? Vous avez interêt à avoir une bonne raison d'être là, Monsieur!

I stand, unsure what to do. Redwing's eyes narrow as she tries to assess if I'm a threat. I reach out again with my mind, probing the weaker areas of her control. This has two effects - one, Redwing grimaces and clutches her head, and two, she decides that I definitely am a threat. I can feel Redwing's talent repelling my own, and the tendril of mental power I had managed to get into her mind is snapped off, a distinctly unpleasant sensation.

"Hii-ya!"

Redwing reaches for the object at her hip, throwing it at me. Or more specifically around me; a string of some kind reels out from the round object and wraps around me. It's a yo-yo? Really? Despite the silliness of her weapon, Redwing's talent makes it very effective. I'm trussed up neatly; it's a struggle not to fall flat on my face. Redwing somersaults off the bed in an impressively unnecessary show of agility, landing right in front of me. She starts talking to me, apparently oblivious to the fact that I have no idea what she is saying.

"Vous m'avez fait quelque chose. Je ne... Je ne me sens pas bien. Etes vous une autres des victimes du Sphinx? Est-il ici?

Her attempts to question me buy me a moment to collect myself. My apparently helpless state also mean her guard is let down a little. I spot another weak point in her mental defenses, and carefully pierce it with a small mental probe. As soon as I get through I pour power through the probe, as much as I am able, forcing the weak spot open wider. It's crude but effective; Redwing's confident stance turns to one of gnawing pain, bent over with her hands clutching her head.

"Ah! Aïe, ça fait très mal!"

I press my advantage. My bindings loosen as Redwing draws her power inwards to push my probe back out. Under normal circumstances she would have managed it easily - hell, normally I would not have gotten a probe past her mental defenses at all when she is fully utilizing her talents. But my earlier attack before Marine had changed into Redwing apparently caused significant damage. I make one last push, and Redwing's consciousness blinks out like a light bulb. The yo-yo tying me up disappears as her Redwing costume reverts back to pajamas. Marine slumps to the floor; I fall heavily into the chair.

I estimate the whole episode took less than six minutes. Thanks to my commands the other girls in the room slept through it all. I feel almost completely drained but I cannot rest yet; if Marine/Redwing wakes she could still be dangerous. Once again I close my eyes and focus.

When I open my eyes again I feel confident that I have finally expunged every last trace of Marine's talent. I have also carefully removed knowledge of herself as the superhero from her memory. She cannot miss what she doesn't remember having. She is not aware of anyone else knowing her secret identity, so hopefully that should be that.

Now that Marine's talents cannot be activated by the totem it is safe to inspect it. I drag myself out of the chair and go over to the floor next to Marine's unconscious form. "Toki" resembles a small cartoon character, red with black line. In Marine's now-deleted memories this toy could move and talk, but in fact this was just a manifestation of her powers. The reality-warping properties are still there though, but as I said I have experienced such things before. Soon it too is rendered harmless. I pocket the doll for later destruction, then look at the clock. Almost 3 a.m. I am far too tired mentally and physically to do much more, but I take the time drag Marine back to bed before tinkering with each girl's minds a little.

Returning to Amelie's room I find her and Linnea still asleep, as expected. On my command Linnea wakes and silently starts to dress. I erase all memory of the night's adventures from Amelie's mind; she will wake up, no doubt with several aches and pains, but otherwise unaffected. This done, Linnea and I leave Amelie to her rest.

The third key I had Linnea make works for a room just past the ones occupied by the students. Once Linnea and I enter the room we both strip off and make straight for the double bed. I'm far too tired to play with the blonde, but nonetheless enjoy having her naked body lying at my side as we both fall into sleep.

Linnea's shift starts at nine. At around eight I release her from my mental 'sleep' command. She wakes up, lying face down, screaming into the pillow. Perhaps because I had buried my dick deep inside her ass before waking her. Her protests are handily masked by the thick hotel pillow as I pump my dick in her quivering ass. This may be the last time I enjoy this particular girl, so I make sure to push as deep into her as I can, fully savoring the feel of her tight asshole and the sight of her ass jiggling with every downward stroke. Of course I cannot say goodbye to Linnea before flipping her over and fucking her impressive chest once more. I have to remove her speaking ability to prevent waking the neighbors, so she watches me in silence as she pushes her own breasts together, creating a deep channel which I eagerly fill with dick. I smile down at her look of disgust as I cum on her tits - I make sure to get some on her face as well as a sort of comment on how much her revulsion matters to me.

Ten minutes later, Linnea is in the shower washing off my cum from her face and breasts before dressing. I shower and dress and follow her down to reception. We take the stairs to avoid contact with others; I have to get the timing of the next part just right. At the stairwell door I hear no noise in the small reception, so I order Linnea through while I stand holding the stairwell door open. There is no-one about, so Linnea sits at the reception desk and promptly falls asleep. I wipe her memory with practiced speed, finishing just in time for the previous shift's receptionist to appear from the breakfast room door on the other side. My closing of the stairwell door goes unnoticed while the receptionist wakes Linnea. Linnea is understandably confused to have no memory of getting to work, let alone sleeping at the desk, but her colleague jokes about her partying all night and not changing her uniform, and soon Linnea is assuming she did exactly that. I'm always impressed by the human mind's ability to make up explanations and believe them. Satisfied, I start walking back up the stairs to my room.

Lying in my room I don't have to wait long until I hear a group of people going past my door to the elevators, talking animatedly in French. The students are leaving to explore the city. When the last voices disappear I head out to see if my plan worked.