tagMind ControlI Got The Power!

I Got The Power!


She'll do. The fair-haired one in the middle of the giggling, school-bagged, plaid-skirted trio walking home along the footpath. They are probably discussing their boyfriends in the ribald terms that girls only reveal when talking among themselves. She looks tasty. Medium height, slim, small high breasts, plump rounded bum. Too bad they make girls her age wear white ankle socks just like the juniors at the school. First thing she'll do when she gets home is take those silly socks off. But she isn't going home…not yet. First, I will enjoy her.

I call out to the girl and she slows her pace, dropping behind her friends. They stop and turn to ask her what is the matter. They are quite attractive as well. One day I will try it with two, or even three, but for today she is The One. The girl shakes her head in bewilderment. She doesn't know herself what it was that caused her to slow down and almost stop. I call out to her again. She finally comes to a halt and looks back at the car. She hesitates and then, I can tell by her gestures, she tells her friends to carry on. She is telling them that she will catch up with them later. The two try to persuade her to go with them, but she shakes her head in adamant refusal. They shrug their shoulders and turn away. The girl watches them until they disappear around the corner some seventy metres off, and then she turns and walks towards the car.

I let the girl approach and only hit the button for the electric window when she bends over to look into the car. The side windows are so heavily tinted she would not have been able to see more than a dim shadow inside. Her eyes are a clear, pale blue under straight, serious eyebrows. Wide mouth with full pink lips and just a hint of recent acne marking her left cheek, and a stubby nose, too short for beauty but nevertheless teenager cute, complete the picture. She does not fully match up to my first impressions, but my choice is made, there is no going back. I tell her to put her bag on the back seat and get in front with me. She does as she is told.

We stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. I tell her to tell me her name.

The girl smiles nervously, still puzzled at how her presence here with me came about, "Melanie…Melanie Simpson."

Her voice is light and slightly husky. And, thank you God, she is not wearing braces!

"Well, Melanie Simpson, I am going to take you to my place. There, I will strip you naked and then we will fuck," I tell her.

Melanie nods, wide-eyed like a trapped rabbit. But she makes no effort to get out of the car.

I Got The Power!

I first found out that I had The Power after the accident. I had been a high up, ultra-sound testing welding repairs to the Cracker when I heard a faint shout. The platform swayed sickeningly, then in an instant I was in the midst of a crashing, clanging, smashing storm of steel pipes as the scaffolding beneath me collapsed, taking me with it twenty metres to the hard concrete below.

I could not feel a thing. My world was blacker than night and totally silent. I thought, "So this is what death is like. I could make a fortune if I could just tell someone!" But then I realised that my nostrils were filled with the smell of acrid dust from the collapse. That did not compute! I tried to move, but found it impossible. And then I heard the sound of running footsteps as people came to my aid. I was alive after all, but why couldn't I see, or feel anything?

They uncovered me slowly, carefully as if they were playing a giant game of Pick Up Sticks. When they finally got to me I heard them gasp in awe. I was still breathing! "How the fuck could he have survived that?" I heard one of them mutter, "Every bone in his body must be broken!" I tried to smile encouragement to them that I was all right and I heard a familiar voice cry out; "Oh My God!" followed by the sound of violent retching. I recognised him as my sidekick, Bill. Was it the ghastliness of my bloody grimace that affected him so? Or perhaps it was the sight of my skull impaled so deeply by the scaffolding pole? I knew nothing of any of these things at the time.

For the next sixty-odd days I laid in intensive care whilst they sewed and pinned and plated me back together. They had to be very tender lifting me onto the gurney to take me to the hospital, I was saggy as a bag of Jelly Beans. Just about every major bone was shattered apart from my right leg, which escaped unscathed aside from a few deep cuts. Smashed face, nose and one cheekbone and jaw that side shattered beyond repair, ruptured spleen, collapsed lung, one kidney pulped. I overhear them saying, "He was lucky his eyes were spared." Lucky? I cannot see nor can I speak!

The refinery will pay anything to keep me alive. The industry has had enough bad press recently without letting go of this 'Miracle Man'. Hour after hour upon hour under sedation apart from when they picked the debris from my skull out of my brain. That was surreal. I heard everything. There are no nerves in the brain, therefore, no need for an anaesthetic. "With all the damage in here the man should not be alive. At best he will be a vegetable." The surgeon resented the obscene amount of money being spent on what he saw as a hopeless case. The man had halitosis. The stink of his breath made me determined to prove him wrong.

Physiotherapy: hours of wracking pain, frustration and total exhaustion re-learning how to sit up, to stand and then walk. There's no way I will pass through an airport metal detector again without setting the alarms howling; I have more steel inside me than the average family car! I wished I could scream at the therapist to leave me alone, that it was all too much. But I still could not speak. It was not, is not, a physical a thing they can fix. Something is missing inside my head.

One day on the walking machine I tripped and fell, banging my newly repaired skull against a railing on my way down. I woke up back in my bed and saw a bright, fuzzy light. It was sunlight streaming through the window.

I was not allowed to leave my bed for the next several days whilst they fussed and discussed and shone bright lights into my eyes. Morning by morning my vision grew clearer, and then, one day when I awoke, I saw Becky properly for the first time, doing her chores, tidying up my room before the day began. She was as I had imagined her from her voice: late thirties or early forties, matronly breasted, heavy hipped, worn, but kindly face with twinkling green eyes. She must have been a real beauty once.

Becky was a nurse's aide who had looked after me frequently since my arrival. She chatted to me constantly as she went about her work, not knowing or even caring if I could hear her in my early, more vegetable-like days, telling me about her life and family. And then, when my consciousness became more apparent, she confided in me about her worries about her son Pete who had disappeared off to 'God Knows Where' after a fight with his sister Emily.

"I think Pete may have caught Emily in bed with a friend…a girl friend…does that shock you? I think it may have blown Pete away and he couldn't handle it, so he took off with a whole load of camping gear. I hope he's ok, we haven't heard from him for two weeks now. No, Em and Debbie don't bother me overmuch. I've suspected something was going on for quite a while. Anyway, I did the same thing when I was their age. Didn't catch the real Swinging Sixties, I wasn't old enough, but the early Seventies were pretty cool just the same. I personally don't see anything wrong with being lesbian, or having a life-period in a girl-girl relationship. It's a way of being different from the standard female wife and mother role model. And it can be fun, provided you can work out what you're supposed to do with and to each other. Do I think the same's right for boys? No, probably not. They're not strong enough for a start…"

As I laid back and listened to this remarkable monologue I tried to imagine what this 'strange' woman looked like. And now, at last, I knew. And I was impressed. It was at this instant that I first began to learn that I had The Power.

Becky glanced at her watch, "It's the end of my shift and I'm just about done here. Is there anything else I can do for you before I check out?"

I shook my head in the negative, carefully avoiding any sudden movement that might tell my brain to shut off the miracle of sight once more. But, the thought burst into my mind. Every morning, despite all the pain, all the trauma, all my despondency and despair, my manhood took his daily exercise: filling, stiffening, stretching and transmitting sexual tension throughout my groin.

"But I wish you could help me out with this!"

A radiant smile flooded Becky's features. She came up to my bedside and slipped her hand beneath the covers. Strong, capable fingers grasped and rubbed up and down my straining length. "Oooh, my," she murmured, "we have something really special here! But we mustn't make a mess."

Becky pushed the bedcovers back further and lowered her face to my abdomen. And when my sperm boiled from me in excruciating, leaping, pleasure-filled spurts, I finally knew that I really was alive!

It was the end of Becky's shift cycle and I would not see her for several days, probably then only with other people around. So I had no chance of asking her just what had made her do what she did. I got my first intimation four nights later.

This time its was two nurses, Carol and Cherie, one of them registered and the other a young trainee who had been assigned to her. The older one, Carol, was red-maned and statuesque, Cherie awkwardly short, plump and mousy. They had woken me up several times over past nights coming in to check on me, but I hadn't let them know that. It became obvious to me as I watched them that Cherie was totally enamoured of her mentor, but the latter was oblivious to her companion's feelings.

Then that night I became impatient with them. Watching the young one weave around the object of her unrecognised desires in the half light without quite touching her had given me a massive hard-on.

"For God's sake, why don't you just grab her tit or something!"

And she did. With a dumb look of surprise on her chubby features, Cherie reached out her hand and cupped one ample curve that stretched Carol's starched white uniform so enticingly.

"Cherie! What on earth do you think you're doing? Take your hand off me this instant!"

"Ignore her! Find her nipple and stroke it!"

Carol moaned softly and flapped her hand ineffectually as if trying to brush the young nurse's hand away, but without making contact. Her whole chest was heaving now with her ragged breathing.

"Cherie, please stop, he might be watching us!"

"Undo her buttons and put your hand inside!"

Fumbling fingers undo stiff buttons and Cherie's hand disappears.

"Oh God! That is so beautiful! Come here, baby, come here!" Carol parted her uniform fully and lifted her brassieres, letting her breasts tumble free. Taking Cherie's head in both hands she led the girl's mouth to the bare rounded flesh, "Come here, baby, come here!"

I watched the young nurse kiss and suckle for a few minutes.

"Undo the lower buttons and put your hand in Carol's pants!"

The room filled with the scent of female sex, secret liquid noises produced by enquiring fingers and the shuddering pants and moans of two aroused women.

"Go down and eat her out!"

Cherie fell to her knees and undid the last remaining button. Carol was beyond caring if I was watching or not. Hastily she pushed her panties down below her knees. And, just before she led Cherie's willing tongue to her slippery folds, I clearly saw her dark, curly bush and the dangling, engorged labia below.

I came at the same time as Carol did, without even touching myself.

I made them perform for me again the following night. This time I made Carol the aggressor and the result was the same. Without her knowing why, she obeyed my mental instructions to the letter, even to the extent of laying Cherie face down over the foot of my bed and fucking her with her fingers from behind. This time they knew for sure that I was awake!

But, I could not read Carol's thoughts, and then I realised that it was the same with Cherie the night before and with Becky before her. I could only project. And in the morning I discovered another truth: I personally had to be sexually aroused or it did not work. I 'told' a young black nurse to go and get me a coffee, but she totally ignored me. But later, when I was feeling horny from imagining licking my way up her dark smooth thighs to her juicy snatch, I told her to put her hand inside her uniform and scratch her pussy, and she did it.

I Got The Power!

My next nighttime caregiver was a fat Latino with a moustache like a black caterpillar adorning her upper lip. The following six nights were adventure-free! But I did test The Power from time-to-time during the day. The results were variable according to my level of sexual intensity. Therefore, it didn't work on men! Not even after I had aroused myself with lascivious thoughts about one of the more attractive female nurses. God, aren't their uniforms sexy?

I got a nice surprise. Becky showed up quite out of her normal routine. She told me it was because one of the other nurse-aides had asked her to swap shifts, but while she was telling me she blushed and looked away. As soon as I saw her the memory of what she had done for me last time gave me an instant boner. I told her to come back to me when our wing of the hospital was quiet for the night.

To my surprise she obeyed. Even out of my direct influence The Power still ruled her! I ached for her like I had never wanted anyone before. All I had to do was push the bedcovers to one side to reveal my bulging erection. Swiftly, without a word, Becky slipped off her panties and climbed astride me. She took hold of my hot prong between thumb and forefinger, raising it upright, and lowered herself smoothly around it. And she fucked me. Oh man, did she fuck me! She freed her breasts, pulling and stroking her at teats with both hands whilst she smiled and undulated ecstatically over me. The wet, silken hand of her tunnel pulled me into her depths, caressed me, massaged me, raised off me until I felt the night air chilling her lubrication on me, then dove down again to welcome me back into her liquid heat.

And I discovered another side of The Power…total control! I took extreme pleasure time and time again without dumping my load and without going soft. Becky was able to orgasm three times, each one more devastating than the last, before she began to tire. Then I gave her my seed, anointing her inner depths with my sticky flood, making her emit a small, tight cry of distress.

We fucked like this every night of her shift driving each other to ever greater heights of pleasure. And at the end of it all she kissed my flaccid manhood and told me that it was all over, that she was asking for a transfer. What she was doing with me was affecting her view of her marriage. "But, thank you for taking me back to how I used to be." I never saw her again.

More surgery: now that I could see, they would have to repair my face better than they had bothered to before. And, much to their surprise, I had suddenly grown much stronger, more and more likely to walk out of there! And then, one day nearly a year after the catastrophe, I was free.

I was not the same. I moved stiffly, awkwardly. Cold, damp weather was going to be hell. There was no way I could do the hunting, shooting, and fishing things I loved. Nor afford to be in another accident or I would simply fall to pieces! And to be charitable, their repairs to my looks made me ugly rugged instead of handsome. And there was no real expectation from anybody that I would reach a ripe old age. But I was free! My lawyers had done a great job and reached an out of court settlement that would see me with a comfortable, inflation-indexed income for the rest of my days. I was free to explore The Power!

Women of all ages responded and I had many of them. Even pre-pubescent girls were not immune, coming to me in delightful innocence and trust, and I set them free and untouched. I found my ex-wife, yes I have one of those, the one who took off and divorced me as soon as she saw my shattered face and body lying on the hospital bed. My revenge on her was to make her go into a furniture store window and masturbate herself while I and her horrified new man, along with fifty other people, looked on from outside. Kim could not know it was me, standing there triumphantly at the front of the crush. After all, I look nothing like I did when she knew me. But, I must confess to pangs of guilt when the cops arrived to arrest her, but only tiny, transient ones.

Melanie is transfixed at the sight of my hand pushing the plaid skirt up her thighs. They are soft and smooth and well shaped. She doesn't shave her legs yet. I am glad, I love the sight of those pretty fine hairs. She obligingly opens up when I near her upper flesh. Her panties are white with lace trim at the waist and leg. I like white panties; they are pure, virginal. I hope Melanie is a virgin.

I stroke the satin skin at the very apex of her inner thigh and she spreads her legs wider. I transfer my caresses to the band of white cotton that hides her folds. I rub it into her firmly, pressing the material into her slit, soaking it with her growing moisture. Melanie closes her eyes and rests her head back against the car seat. Her thighs are trembling.

I push the sopping panty-crotch to one side, exposing her sex. Her golden crowned labia are dark pink and engorged from my attentions. I part the soft puffy lips to reveal the brighter, shining, interior pink. I find the wet tiny mouth and slide a fat finger inside. The slick inner flesh clings warmly to my invader as I push it in deeper. A sudden frown of discomfort crosses Melanie's smooth brow. Aaaah! My prayers are answered!

I withdraw my finger and Melanie opens her eyes in startled surprise. Slowly, deliberately, forcing her to watch all the way, I bring the finger that has just been inside her body to my mouth and lick her juices from it. She is fresh and salty with just a hint of honey.

Just as slowly and deliberately I unbutton my pants. Melanie's eyes follow every move. I part the cloth wide. On these expeditions I wear no underpants, hence the precautionary buttons instead of a zipper. My throbbing cock assaults her gaze, a long, thick, purple-veined bar, standing erect from its nest of dark pubic curls at the base of my belly.

Melanie doesn't need to be told. Licking her lips nervously she leans forward and grasps my hot flesh with her small hand. She moves her encircling fingers up towards the huge, mushroom-shaped crown, bringing forth a pearly drop of pre-cum. Then after one last questioning look into my eyes she lowers her face and takes me into her wet, warm mouth.

I turn the ignition key and the car engine fires immediately. Puff Daddy booms out from the stereo. I reach over Melanie's crouched back and move the shift into Drive.

I Got The Power!

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