The Hedonistic Telepath, Ch. 2 by: Dani R. email: derfgh12@gmail.com (send feedback!)
Not all fairy tales end up in the Brothers Grimm. Some are for a more... refined palate, one that can appreciate the exquisite struggle of an overactive libido. This is one such tale, salacious and forbidden. I'm sure many will turn away based just on the subject matter.
For the rest of you, welcome. Pull up a chair with your favorite cup of hot chocolate or your favorite sheets and pillows, raid your spank bank for some visual aid (I'll provide some light guidance if you'd prefer), and get ready to dive in. Be warned, it only gets smuttier from here.
But before we begin, some disclosures: first, if you're underage, get the hell out! Make sure you donate to Nifty to support its ongoing hosting. Regardless of whether you are of age or not, please do not read this if this kind of story offends you. Lastly and most importantly, men in these stories will be playing unsafely, which is not advised in real life. Please get yourself checked regularly and play safe out there.
Now, let's continue.
"Take care now," I said, waving Scott away in his Uber. I sighed, closing the door and locking it behind me. Alone again.
The previous night, I had spent time modifying Scott's memory while he slept, removing our week-long affair from his mind. As far as he knew, he and I remained basically strangers, barely a word or two every time we ran into each other during the night. All work, no play; poor Scott thinks his dry spell is still going. Much as I would have loved to leave him second-guessing himself, I don't have enough of an evil streak to do that to him. He read like a good guy who didn't deserve to have his world turned upside down. No, the memory would be mine alone. And hell, the way I saw it? I can't be a homewrecker if it never actually happened... right?
I decided to work on some homemaking instead, starting with my cum-stained sheets getting thrown in the wash. I threw empty beer bottles into the recycling bin, vacuumed, the works. I may use and abuse my body's orifices like a video game, but you best believe I treat my home with respect. It was too big an investment not to.
In this manner, I distracted myself as my list of chores wound down. By now, with Scott gone a full two hours, I began to think about my life.
You're probably wondering the same, what I actually do with my life aside from the hedonism. Much as I would love to admit to some "fuck the system" badassery involving bank tellers and my silver eyes, I actually make my money the standard way: a set of jobs. Because no millennial in their right mind can make it on just one job, I double up, a property manager by day, Lyft driver by night. Both jobs afford me some interesting outlets for sex I have yet to begin exploring. I licked my lips just thinking about it.
"Really?" I said to my dick, throbbing hard, as if I hadn't gotten off plenty of times in the last week. No, just as quickly as it was sated, the hunger returned, and it wanted more cock. I wanted more in me, and I wanted it now.
"Fuck it, let's see what else we can get away with."
Patience was certainly a virtue though; I still needed to take a much-needed shower before I could really go anywhere respectable, and besides... where to go? Then it hit me: let's go somewhere that WASN'T respectable. Yes... perfect. My next client was right around the corner, I could taste it.
Remember after all, I was being careful with the exploration of my magic. I wanted to be absolutely sure I was in control, lest I lose it and get my clock cleaned by some burly motherfucker with a phobia for his inner gay side. I may have a talent for bringing that side out, but years of repression can't be undone in moments, not even by me.
No, I needed something only slightly more challenging than a bisexual already on the cusp. I needed the bathhouse.
Club Pittsburgh wasn't exactly known for being particularly stylish or populated, but the smattering of men that did attend it typically yielded one or two good candidates, if only you happen to be their type. Before I made the decision to use my magic at will, I attended the club only to be disappointed when the guy I was into wasn't into me, every single time. Not to mention, the regulars that stalked the halls and gave me their look of hunger as I passed by would be there too.
Now? I had an advantage over everyone, and I was assured satisfaction so long as I remained careful.
I drove my way to downtown, up Penn Avenue, reaching the parking garage across the street. I parked, paid the fare, and headed to the club's side entrance. I boarded the elevator and punched in the fourth floor, fishing out my ID and credit card as the elevator ascended. I reached the main lobby, where I handed over my cards to the man at the counter, Ryan I believe was his name. I could have checked, but I didn't want to chance it. Then again, this low lighting would make it harder to spot the change in my eyes...
"You're Ryan, right?"
"Sure am," he said.
There! I don't always rely on magic, sometimes I just strike up good ol' conversation.
"So what brings you in?" Ryan asked, a coy smile as he punched in my information into his computer system.
"Psh, you know what I'm here for," I replied.
Ryan winked at me.
"Good luck, Ralda," he said, leaning close to add one of his little secrets. "Bruce is here, by the way, I think you might like him. REALLY dominant."
"Which one is Bruce?" I asked.
"You'll know him when you see him," Ryan said, winking.
"How mysterious and exciting...!"
Ryan grinned, handing me my locker key, a towel, and granting me access inside.
"Enjoy," he said with another wink.
I entered the dank corridor and went over to where the lockers sat just outside the gym. A precious few patrons milled about the lockers, dressing or undressing, getting ready to leave or just arriving like me. Two of them I could see were sizing me up as I stripped. I smiled and turned away as I activated my power to peek inside. Though the two were handsome in their way, neither was Bruce, and both were bottoms. In case it wasn't already obvious, I'm a greedy, greedy bottom, so that did me no good. I covered myself in the towel, threw my belongings in my assigned locker - save for a bottle of poppers - and headed to the next floor up.
This floor housed the actual amenities that qualified this place as a bathhouse. Showers at the end, rooms at the other. Between them sat the hot tub, sauna, and steam room, along with a bathroom used less for traditional purposes and more to fulfill specific fantasies. I admittedly wasn't much for steaming or sauna...ing, not really my thing, but the hot tub sounded nice, and offered a vantage point from which to watch the other patrons. Actually, it was perfect: the tub sat in a little nook with a wall of frosted glass cubes blocking off the view to the main corridor. Hanging up my towel and locker key, I entered the tub alone and was able to sit in the corner with my back to the frosted glass, free to use my magic so long as I remained alone.
With that, I sat back, relaxed, and let my mind take over the work to be done. I counted the number of patrons currently in the building and within range of my reading abilities, an unimpressive amount of horny men. It was a Tuesday morning, after all, so what was one to expect? Still, I held out hope for this Bruce character, for whom I was fervently searching for. I finally spotted him several floors down, at the edges of my magic's range. From this distance, I wouldn't be able to influence his actions, but I didn't want to yet anyway. I wanted Bruce to continue traipsing about as I pried into his mind unbeknownst to him.
He was a gentleman well into his fifties, with sparse white hair on his head and matching, full beard that he maintained well. He was about six feet tall, and was packing a not-so-modest 8-incher sporting a Viagra-fueld hardon. It made me wonder if my powers would allow me to bypass a man's erectile dysfunction and force his cock to harden... could I have such power even over one's physiology? I wondered at that and added it to my mental "notes" of things to experiment with more deeply.
Bruce was, as you may imagine, gay, one of those late bloomers with an ex wife and kids. Only in recent years had he explored with what he grew up knowing was taboo, and though he'd made great strides since then, he was only just getting started. He was wearing his leather harness, nipples pierced, Prince Albert piercing adorning his beautiful, purple glans. He was a handsome guy, definitely a gorgeous man in his day. Not that he wasn't beautiful now; the man had aged like fine wine.
Bruce found no action down where he was and decided it was time to hit the showers. I felt a bit alarmed knowing Bruce wanted to leave, but no matter. The showers were only a few feet away, so he would come well within reach of my persuasive powers. I stayed relaxed as I pried further into his mind on his way up the stairs. Based on memories I was viewing, he'd always been relatively dominant, treating his then-wife like the submissive whore she was. She apparently did not take kindly to this kind of play and preferred more equality in the bedroom.
Pff... good riddance.
Bruce wanted nothing more than to fulfill his dominant fantasies, preferably with someone young, fit, and willing. Oh yes, reader, you better believe I fit the bill perfectly, no tricks required! Well... no tricks required to make me his type, that is, though I had been prepared to change his mind anyway.
Bruce neared, and it was time for me to snag him. I planted the idea in his mind to peek into the hot tub one last time before heading for the showers. Doing so, he found me. I didn't want to seem too eager, so I didn't meet his eye, choosing instead to keep my eyes closed. I felt him move away however, and it felt as if the fish was off the hook, an alarming sensation. As he rounded the corner, I opened my eyes and peeked into his mind: oh... what I found was... grounds for me to do something... wicked.
It turned out - a detail I missed earlier - that his son resembled me quite a bit. There was conflict in Bruce's mind over this: I was actually the perfect candidate because of this little fact. Bruce, the ol' perv, had always thought of his son as a stud growing into a handsome young man (and he was, now that I saw), harboring a deep-seated attraction for him. Of course, Bruce would never break that bond... but with a complete stranger that happened to carry a resemblance?
I urged him to reconsider his departure, and try the hot tub one more time. Bruce sighed, thinking he had nothing to lose by staying just a bit longer, and turned back. He rounded the corner, and this time, I met his gaze. I did not smile, nor did I nod or acknowledge him in any way, I simply registered him with my eyes and then looked away as he froze for a moment. Looking to the side so he couldn't see my eyes, I read him and found him doubting whether I would be interesting in a "crotchety old man like himself" in the first place. Oh how I hated people's inner monologues, how cruel they could be to themselves.
Still, Bruce decided to give it a shot, much to my alleviation. He stripped of his towel, revealing his now soft cock, the PA gleaming in the low light. He hung up his towel and slowly waded into the tub, choosing to sit across from me. Now, we entered that awkward phase where we both pretended not to be interested in the other, lest we show interest and be rejected. Bruce seemed especially sensitive to rejection at the moment, having experienced nothing but dejection all day. He was ready to call it quits with nothing to show for it before he saw me. Boy, that was quite the amount of pressure on me to perform, wasn't it?!
I wasn't worried though. If there's one thing someone with my kind of power knows, it's the art of submission. You see, the secret is that the submissive is always the one in control, and it is the dominant that is in the service of the submissive, not the other way around. In our daily lives, we exercise too much control over too many insignificant things, so getting to let go once in a while and give up control becomes a luxury.
Bruce, however, was of a rare breed. He was a dominant through and through, never wanting to give up control. This made the situation rather interesting, since I would be the one in control the whole time while Bruce would be none the wiser. Indeed, I would have no need for a safe word or anything of the sort; on a whim, I could cease proceedings and take my leave, if I wanted to, and Bruce would have nothing he could say to change my mind. Indeed, it was HIS mind I could change as I saw fit.
So there I sat in the bubbling water, confident that my abilities were more than practiced enough to handle this. The semi-darkness provided the cover I needed to openly use my power, and with is, I took control. In Bruce's mind, I found the remnant of a horny thought he had earlier, and I stoked the fire. In response, Bruce grabbed his dick underwater and started stroking. He started thinking about me at this point, about dominating me every which way. Good,m I thought to myself, I won't have to influence his actions too much, if at all; things were going swimmingly. With his mind rejuvenated of sexual fantasies, Bruce began to touch himself in earnest, being more obvious now that he actually wanted my attention, and I gave it. With an innocent look in my eye, I looked at him dead-on.
Bruce did not avert his gaze, sexy and confident as he stared me down while jerking his dick freely. He puffed out his lips and exhaled, squinting his eyes as he made a show of how turned on he was. He was hiding nothing now; I didn't have to read his mind to know Bruce was fishing for me. And like a too-curious fish in the water, I was dazzled by the shiny lure that was Bruce. I watched him, mimicking his movements as I jerked my cock slowly to full mast. Bruce's cock stiffened until the purple head of it peeked out of the water.
Hot as it was to silently flirt this way, I was beginning to overheat in the boiling water, so I decided it was time to move things along. I waded over and stood up, making it a point to wave my ass in his face as I clambered out of the tub. I took my towel and headed directly for the empty showers. Peeking into his mind, I saw Bruce had been caught on my line hook, line, and sinker; he was next to get out of the tub and head into the showers. We washed ourselves in pent-up silence, hormones flying all over as we patiently cleaned ourselves of the bromine in anticipation of what was to come. Satisfied, I turned my shower off and toweled off as Bruce did the same. Wordlessly, we had entered a contract with each other, that Bruce would follow me wherever I went, corner me, and make me his bitch.
It was a truly delicious experience I was already thoroughly enjoying, having this man completely under my spell, making him think this was all his idea. Even now, as I peeked into his mind, I could see Bruce thought I was merely shying away from him, where he had planned to corner me and make me his bitch. I left the shower area, towel wrapped around me, and headed for the opposite end of the corridor. I could see Bruce following suit, and my heart started pounding; it was finally happening! I was about to get claimed by this handsome daddy and be made to please him every which way.
I rounded the corner through some black curtains, finding myself in a mini-maze. I felt two other patrons standing around in there, waiting for action. For now, I didn't feel like sharing or putting on a show, so with a strong mental command, I sent them away to explore elsewhere. Too bad though... they weren't bad-looking or anything. But right now, as Bruce entered the maze behind me, it was all about him, about his needs.
A hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I feigned being startled.
"C'mon boy," Bruce said in his sexy, gruff voice, "daddy needs taken care of."
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