The second time I saw her, there had been some big changes.
I'd returned to the cinema precisely because it was so small and infrequently populated. Being able to read minds is mostly a gift, but when I want to really concentrate on a film, it's can definitely be a curse. Any time my interest wanes at all, I'll dive into the thoughts of whoever is closest, and though I've heard them all before, it's hard to go back to a flat screen when you've got the depth of a human's experience open to you.
The most obvious change was her tits. Normally I'm solely responsible for a change in someone's bust-size, but this one was a team effort - her new eating habits had been a bigger contributor than anything I'd done ... of course, I was responsible for the change in her diet (and her body's strange response) so I suppose that ultimately her new and glorious boobs were thanks to me.
When I'd first met Connie, she'd been thin as a rake. At a glance, I'd assumed she was barely a teenager, but a quick probe into her mind had told me that no, she was nineteen.
To my eyes, that makes her fair game.
I'd noticed but not specifically targeted her - I've mellowed over the years, and not every female who crosses my path immediately attracts my influence. I used to be a lot more active, with each and every person who caught my attention walking away different, changed, but nowadays I'm more ... selective.
It didn't take much though; she simply cut in line. Whether it was just plan rudeness, or if she'd seen me checking her out and thought I wouldn't object, I didn't know ... and though it would have been easy enough to go exploring in her mind and find out, I didn't much care.
"Excuse me," I said, watching as the girl turned to face me, a smug look on her face. "I was here first."
To my delight, she just rolled her eyes and turned back to the front of the queue.
"Excuse me," I repeated, and a slight mental nudge was all that was needed to make sure that this time, she turned and gave me the attention that I was due. "I believe you've just cut in line."
A quick scan of the small theatre we were standing in told me that the only employee was out the back, dealing with an angry customer on the phone. That would explain the long wait. The girl and I were alone, for at least the next few minutes.
I wouldn't even need that long.
Pulling a coin out of my pocket and beginning to flip it, I smiled as she watched, transfixed.
"What's your name?" I asked, and was impressed by how steadfastly she resisted answering. I leaned against the pillar and waited - with a bit of increased effort I could have had her talking straight away, but I enjoyed watching her struggle.
"Connie," she finally answered, a petulant glare on her face.
"Connie, excellent. I'm going to teach you something today, Connie, and I can assure you that it's a lesson that will sink in."
Against her will she nodded, and I smiled a cruel smile.
"You can't just push in front of people in line, girl. You have to be more persuasive than that. Now you're a pretty enough lass, I'm sure you can think of all kinds of creative ways to ... get what you want."
Connie nodded, and my words sunk into her brain. She didn't realize it yet, but the conversation we'd just had would go on to define the rest of her life. She wouldn't know why the short speech of a stranger would have such impact, but from now on whenever she had to make any choice, my advice would be the first thing she thought of.
While she adjusted to her new attitude, I delved into her young mind and made some changes. She was athletic, almost obsessively so - that explained her stick-thin appearance. I decided to leave alone, only adding an insatiable hunger; no matter how much she ate, she would forever be starving, only satisfied after consuming a greasy, fatty meal, large enough to feed a family of four.
I'm not cruel - everyone who comes into contact me ends up happier as a result - so I changed her body's physiology slightly. She wouldn't be fat for long, just enough to inject a bit of humility into her. I wondered if she'd continue her athletic activities when the pounds started stacking on.
In a perfect world, I would have played for a little longer, but at that point the sole employee finished his conversation and re-entered the room. I slipped the coin back into my pocket, and Connie blinked twice and looked around as if lost.
The teen behind the counter asked who was next, and I gestured to the slightly stunned girl standing in front of me. She nodded thanks, and stepped up to the counter.
Her stomach growled as she bought a ticket, prompting her to add: "Some popcorn as well ... with butter. Lots of butter."
I never expected to see her again. The vast majority of my encounters I don't - that's part of the joy for me, wondering what they get up to after I've left them, what changes my tinkering produces.
Not to say, of course, that I don't enjoy seeing the results of my efforts - it's a rare delight when it happens, and a broad smile crossed my face when I saw the new and improved Connie standing in front of me.
As I mentioned, her breasts had filled out nicely. It had taken a few years of experimentation to get the hang of it, learning which hormones to push where. (once I'd mastered my technique, the first thing I'd done was go back to correct my first attempts, and reward the recipients with whatever their hearts desired. As I said, I really don't think of myself as a bad man.)
Before I even inspected her Connie's few months, I could tell a few things: the demure way she entered told me that, as I hoped, a few months of being overweight had lowered her self-esteem significantly. She was now stunning - her face had always been pretty, and now she had an almost-perfect body to match it - but I suspected that she'd never really believe it, not as long as she continued to eat the way that she did.
Her clothes told me that she'd taken my suggestions in the sexual manner that I'd hoped she would; she was dressed to "persuade", ready to use her body to influence anyone she encountered, in exchange for whatever small favor they were willing to give.
But I didn't get the real story until I opened her mind once more, saw through her eyes how much her life had change since we'd last encountered one another...
Chapter 2: Convincing the Folks'
Connie had been completely unable to concentrate on the film.
Nolan was her favorite director and her grueling schedule had prevented her from going on opening night, or even attending the film with her friends, and so she'd been looking forward to seeing the team's adventures on the big screen, but now that she was here ... she just couldn't focus.
She sat in the empty theatre (I'd left, knowing that I wouldn't be able to enjoy the film, not with a newly-altered mind ticking over in front of me) and shoveled popcorn into her mouth, unable to stop thinking about the conversation she'd just had.
Persuasive. She needed to be more persuasive.
Connie couldn't explain why this resonated so perfectly with her, but the more her mind reflected on it, the more she knew that it was completely and utterly true. It was an epiphany, an undeniable fact.
Up until now, she'd assumed that people would do what she wanted because ... well, just because. If you were insistent enough, the majority of people folded, and the few who didn't weren't worth worrying about.
But now, something about that argument just didn't make sense to her. It had worked, but it was somehow flawed ... no, she knew now that she had to make people want to do things. And the only way to make people want to do things was to give them something.
Connie wasn't rich - her parents both worked as personal trainers. They loved it, but it left their bodies much healthier than their bank account.
So if she couldn't reward people financially, what else was left?
The question chewed away at her mind as she watched the rest of the film, ducking out twice to visit the concession stand. Part of her wished that they had a healthier selection, but the rest of her was inexplicably craving buttery popcorn and calorie-heavy chocolate bars.
When she was halfway home she cursed, realizing that she had barely paid attention to the film. She'd have to see if she could use the car again soon - she'd been looking forward to the blockbuster for months, but her starving stomach and overwhelmed mind had been unable to let her focus.
"Mother, can I use the car tomorrow?"
Dinner had been delicious, as usual - lean chicken and a small salad, a perfect combination of leafy greens and protein. For some reason it hadn't scratched Connie's itch, however, and straight after the meal Claire had walked in to find her daughter raiding the fridge.
"In return, I'll cook ... and do the washing up tonight."
Connie's mother laughed. "Sure thing, honey - I'm staying at Marie's tonight anyway, so I'll just ride in. You'll have to check with your father as well, of course."
The young woman was beaming as she approached her father - she couldn't explain why successfully bargaining with her mother had given her the satisfaction that it did, but something about getting what she wanted (without simply demanding it) made her feel great.
"Hey Dad," she asked, a sing-song tone in her voice, "what would I have to do to use the car tomorrow?"
Her father looked up from his paper and frowned in response. As soon as his wife had left, he'd sat down to read the paper, and in her excitement Connie had forgotten how much Nick hated being interrupted when he was buried in the local news. The girl's heart sank as her father began to respond.
"Well with your mother gone, I was planning on finally getting started on that wallpapering. I'll be back and forth to the store all day ... sorry sweetie, but I think I need it."
Determined not to be defeated so quickly, Connie's mind raced. Her father didn't care much for the cleanliness of the house - that was more her mother's domain - so she knew that offering to do chores wouldn't have much of an impact. He was a more physical man - immediately, as if the idea had been lurking under the surface, Connie came up with something more physical that she could offer him.
"Please, Daddy?" Connie said, sitting on the arm of his reading chair. She causally draped one hand around his shoulder, and the other one rested upon her bare leg, hypnotically playing. "Surely there's something I can do..."
Connie's father couldn't help but stare at his daughter's hand as it began playing up and down her leg, smoothly stroking and drawing attention to her soft skin. He and Claire had been having troubles lately - thus her overnight stay at her sister's - and it had been weeks since he'd been laid.
He shook his head, and made himself remember that it was his daughter's perfect legs that he was staring at. He forced his eyes back to the paper, and responded with a curt "No."
Rather than giving up, Connie smiled. She'd seen the hesitation, noticed him staring at her legs. Though she was flat-chested, Connie's exercise regime meant that her legs and butt were always in excellent condition, and though they'd tried to hide it from her, she was more than aware of her parent's martial difficulties.
A thrill ran through her body as she realized the challenge that had just presented itself to her. So her Daddy was going to play hard-to-get ... well, she was determined to "persuade" him - using any means necessary.
"Well then," she said, hoping that her sudden change of topic wasn't too obvious, "is there something else I can ask you about?"
"What is it, hon?" Nick replied, still annoyed at his body for responding in the primal way that it had.
"It's about boys," she said simply, and tried to resist smiling as her father rolled his eyes.
"Can't you talk about this with your mother?"
Connie sighed dramatically. "Mom just doesn't understand. She doesn't realize that I'm not her little girl any more. I'm a woman now - I've got needs. I've got desires."
"Sweetie, I really don't think-..."
"It's about sex," Connie said, cutting her father off. "I just get so ... horny."
This time, Connie wasn't unable to resist a cheeky grin as she watched her father's face go through a variety of emotions. Fortunately he didn't notice her reaction, and by the time he was able to focus on his little angel's mouth once more, the grin was gone, replaced with a look of deliberate solemness.
"I know you're the same way, Daddy," Connie said, sinking from the arm of the chair onto her father's lap. "I know that you understand what I mean when I say needs, urges. I get so horny, and I know you do too. Isn't there some way we can ... help each other out?"
"No!" her father responded instinctively. "Baby girl, no..."
"Daddy," she said with a smile. "I don't mean anything wrong. I just mean, y'know ... a bit of stimulation. I've heard you jacking off, and I know that Mom hasn't been helping you. I don't want to touch you or anything, I just want to ... help you out."
Every day, billions of neurons fire through billions of brains as billions of people make billions of decisions. Every day, each person makes hundreds of decisions that will affect their life forever.
Perhaps if Nick had relieved himself the previous night, his hormones wouldn't have had such an easy job convincing him. Perhaps if Connie's butt hadn't wiggled onto a particularly sensitive spot on his cock, the potential for pleasure wouldn't have been as obvious to him as it was. Perhaps if he hadn't stopped himself from noticing that his little girl had grown up into a beautiful woman, he'd have been prepared, and everything would have gone differently.
But instead of saying no, or telling his daughter that she was being inappropriate, Nick's curiosity overcame him, and he asked a question - four fatal words - that went on to change both their lives forever.
"What kind of help?"
Chapter 3: Giving Daddy A Hand
Two minutes later, both Connie and her father were pantless. She had turned away (for all her faults, she was good at reading people, and had been able to tell that his daughter's eyes on his cock would have been too much for Nick to handle) and was smiling in victory as she listened to the sound of Nick's breathing and the slapping noise of skin on skin as he masturbated while staring at his daughter's perfect ass.
He was slightly stunned; it had all happened so fast. It had just been an innocent question, he'd told himself, but then clothes had started coming off ... he was so horny, and his daughter was so sexy.
Nick told himself that it wasn't his fault, but as he stroked his erection, every fibre of his being was aware that the cute butt he was jerking off to belonged to his teenage daughter.
He wished that hadn't turned him on even more, but it had.
Just as he was about to cum, that's when she'd asked. He'd told her that yes, damn it, she could borrow the car, and in return she'd opened her legs, given her father just a glimpse of her sexy little pussy.
Afterward, he'd been overcome with guilt, but when she'd asked for the keys the next morning, he'd given them to her without a word.
Perhaps it was a result of her years of manipulating people, but Connie's sense of exactly how far to push people was flawless, and she waited a few days before trying anything else. This time it was while her mother was at work, and the thrill of knowing that she could come home any time spurred both of them on. She'd walked into his bedroom without any pants on, and let her Daddy stare at her pussy while he came. This time, she'd asked permission to have her friends over on Superbowl Sunday - usually a day reserved just for family - but her timing meant that her father would have said yes to almost anything she could ask for.
That Sunday, she'd carefully chosen three of her most attractive friends, and after seeing the four of them hanging around the house barely dressed all day, it had been easy for Connie to approach her father again after they left.
This time, the show had included playing with herself as he watched, and all she'd asked for was permission to break another house rule, and keep some chocolate bars in the pantry.
It escalated slowly over the next few weeks - her first time nude in front of him, it was in return for use of his credit card to buy something online. A few days later, he learned that she'd ordered a sex toy, and watching her use that in front of him only cost Nick use of the car once more.
The next line wasn't crossed for some time. Connie had been giving her father shows in exchange for simple favors for a month. She was sitting in front of her father, pinching her nipples and slowly easing a vibrator into her ass as he slowly played with herself when the thought struck her.
"I'll finish you off," she said, watching her father's eyes as they stared, transfixed, at her nipple "if you let Mom choose the next vacation."
Normally Connie asked in the heat of the moment, just before the point of no return. It made it easier for Nick to justify it to himself later - sure, he'd said yes, but everyone knew that men would say yes to anything if they were about to cum.
This time, however, he was faced with a very real choice.
On one hand, he'd told himself that the line he'd never cross was exactly that, being touched by or touching his daughter. On the other hand, ever since that first time he'd been entranced by the taboo nature of what they were doing - the thought of his daughter's hand replacing his own had been in his mind many times as he came, whether in front of her and alone in his bed at night.
He didn't care where they went over Easter - he didn't even know why he and his wife had spent so much time arguing over it. But he knew that if he said yes, as well as his fantasies coming true, they'd be starting down a long road ... and he wasn't sure where that road was going to end up.
There was a long pause as Nick and his daughter sat, staring at each other, their hands on their genitals, exposed to each other in the middle of the living-room, in the middle of the day. Finally, Connie's father replied with a single hoarse word:
Despite his assertion that he should come on his own stomach (as Connie was now used to seeing him do), she aimed at her own face as he began to spurt his thick seed, less than a minute after she started pumping. Through the goo, Connie smiled, a beautiful contrast between her young, innocent expression ... and the cum that coated her face.
Though she would never have admitted it to herself, Connie had run out of favors to ask her father some time ago. Ever since her father had started seeing her in a sexual light, he'd felt so guilty about what they were doing that he gave her anything he wanted, almost before she asked. Connie would never confess to being turned on by what she was doing with her father, but on some level she knew that she loved being wanted by him as much as he enjoyed watching her.
After she'd asked him if she could use his favorite pen, in return for letting him watch her double-penetrate herself, Connie had been forced to face up to the fact that there was nothing more she wanted from him. And so the bright idea had come into her head of using Nick's desire for her to save her parents' marriage.
Watching his daughter's grinning face, as his cum dripped onto the carpet, Nick wondered if he should feel worse than he did. For the first time, he'd just technically cheated on his wife - with their own daughter, at that. Instead of guilt, however, all he could feel was an erotic charge from the taboo situation.
From then, it was part of their daily routine. Connie would jack her father off each night, in return for Nick doing small favors for his wife - flowers, a romantic date, apologizing to her for comments about her mother-in-law. He told himself that it would never go past hands, and she told herself that she was just doing it for her parent's marriage.
Claire and Nick had truly been in love once, and Nick's small efforts were quickly matched by his wife. Soon, their marriage was better than it had been in years - and, despite Nick's daily encounters with his daughter, so was their sex life.
All the time that she'd been fooling around with her father, Connie had been "persuading" everyone else that she could - it had started by offering to flash passing boys for directions, or let them make out with her in exchange for a bite of their chocolate-bar, but as things had escalated with her father, she'd found herself giving more and more to strangers as well: a head-job for helping her carry some books, or a quick fuck in a back room in return for letting her borrow their paper.