Chapter 1: Drunk

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mind Control, Lesbian, BiSexual, Extra Sensory Perception, School, Transformation, mc sex story,mc story.

Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1: Drunk - Jason has a gift. His ability to interact directly with the minds of those around him quickly makes him the center of attention for a group of people he'd rather never meet.

Jessica is one of those strange girls who are simply unreasonably attractive. She spends altogether too much time at the gym. I don't know if she works hard to apply makeup that looks like it isn't makeup, but if she does, she's succeeding. She looks completely natural. If Aphrodite were real, Jessica would be her equal.

When you go to college and meet thousands of new people, you expect to meet a few who are drop-dead-gorgeous. You expect them to exist, but you don't expect you'll ever talk to them. There is a story behind how we met. Regardless of the fact that she and I tell the story very differently, it's a story that – one year later - leads us to a bar called the Brew Shack and then to an activity which I doubt I will ever tire of.

Jessica's room is outfitted with more pink then is acceptable. The walls are a plain white. The reprieve from the visual onslaught of bright color is most likely due to her landlord. I've known her for just over a year, but in that time I've never seen any cloth adorn her – rather fantastic – body that could be mistaken, in any way, for white or black.

It's not, however, her room that holds my undivided attention. Sitting on her bed, smiling lasciviously, Jess is gazing at me. I've seen her naked before, but the sight still feels like an assault on my senses. Her smile deepens under my gaze. She looks around the room, giving me time to admire her fully.

"We're in my room? Really? How ... vanilla..."

"Vanilla?" I ask, as I continue to stare, "It's your head Jess. Not exactly my idea."

She leans back, stretches her arms backward and rests on her hands. The pose accentuates her breasts and I feel myself harden as I walk toward her. Jess smiles warmly when she notices my arousal. She is about to say something as I grab her shoulders and drive them gently into the mattress. Her eyes lose focus for a moment as she makes the transition from feeling seductive to feeling uncontrolled desire.

Jess' hand launches forward as she tries to grab me and pull me closer. I grab her wrist, halting its motion. I lean into her and press our lips together. She growls as I drive my tongue past her lips. She wraps her legs around my waist and tries to pull me closer. I penetrate her and her pussy clenches, trying to pull me closer as well. Her free hand wraps around my back and her nails scape along my skin as she tries to hold me tighter. Her neck strains against the pillow as she tries to push herself into me. Her moan is practically a scream and her eyes close as she loses herself in the pleasure of her first orgasm.

I give her a quick moment's respite, but then all thought of foreplay is long forgotten as she loosens her death-grip on me and I start working her toward a second orgasm.

"Jason!" she moans, "God. Yes!" She has just had her first orgasm, but her demands continue anyway, "Harder."

When the personification of all things desirable is demanding more sex, trust me, you don't argue.

I lean back so that my weight is no longer pressing her into the mattress and give myself the necessary room to grab her hips for leverage. Using both my arms and my legs for force, I increase the intensity of my motion after each successive thrust.

"Yes!" she says, grabbing her breast in one hand a tugging on her hair with the other, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck ... FUCK!" Her entire body starts convulsing as her second orgasm works its way through her system. I stop moving, giving her the chance to orient herself.

She takes a few deep breaths, "I wish sex was always so good." She reaches out toward my face, so I lean into her again and we begin to kiss. Jess has no patience and quickly deepens the kiss. Her hand snakes through my hair. She shows her approvable as I slowly start to move inside of her again by strengthening her grip on my hair.

Sounding frustrated and aroused in equal measure, she breathes into my ear, "Faster."

I pause and look at her for a moment. Jess' skin is glistening and I'm taken aback yet again by how absurdly attractive she is. She licks her lips in anticipation.

"Come on," she says, wiggling underneath me a bit.

I wrap her in a hug and use our closeness to roll over. Straddled on top of me, Jess pushes herself off of my chest so that she's sitting up. She gives me a look of deep approval and then starts to gyrate. I'm not sure which is more distracting, the memorizing motion of her stomach muscles as they move or the feeling that accompanies them. Her hips take on a life of their own. She arcs her back and throws her head backward so that, suddenly, I'm presented with the perfect view of her chest.

"God, you're hot," I say as I grab a breast in each hand. Her answer is to moan and quicken the pace. Suddenly she comes forward, rests her hands against my shoulders and starts to move up and down on my cock as she continues to gyrate. I don't take the time to be properly impressed by her coordination as I feel myself building toward release.

"I'm gonna cum," she says, stealing my words. I try to vocalize that I'm close as well, but it comes out as a grunt and a wild nod. It's enough encouragement for her; she picks up the pace. Seconds later, her entire body shakes and her arms give out as she crashes into my chest. I'm only a moment behind.

She rolls off of me and chuckles, "Wow, I don't think I can move anymore." Her breaths are long as she sucks in as much oxygen as she can.

I take a moment to recover as well and then roll onto my side. Running a finger between her breasts and down her stomach, I ask her, "You sure?"

Her stomach muscles twitch, "Oh – do that again."

Without warning, I shove two fingers into her pussy. She gasps. I curl my fingers inward. She grunts and grabs my hand. Ignoring her grip, I begin to hammer my fingers in and out of her vagina. Jess goes entirely limp and just screams. For as long as she can, she empties all the oxygen out of her lungs as loudly as she is able. As she tries to take a breath, her body surprises her by giving her another orgasm instead.

"Fuck!" she says, gasping, "The fuck did you do?"

Then, in the blink of a thought, we're abruptly looking at each other from across the table at the bar and Jessica has just an orgasm. Sitting with us are Joshua, Abby, Rachel, and Kim.

The tryst in Jessica's bedroom is a strange memory. It's absurdly detailed, yet it just appeared suddenly in my mind. One moment it hadn't happened and the next I have this detailed recollection of an event I know didn't really take place. It would be an intense, too-real, daydream if it weren't for the fact that I know Jess just had the same experience. I've never set foot in her room before, yet I'm absolutely sure I could give a fairly accurate description of the place. The other tell that this wasn't just a daydream is the post-orgasmic grin plastered on Jessica's face.

"No way!" says Abby, "I call bullshit. You're faking that."

Joshua, however, has seen this party trick before. More importantly, He has seen it on a girl he knew I'd never met before.

"Dude, how the hell do you do that? Seriously!"

"A magician never reveals his secrets," I say, "You guys are buying this pitcher. A deal is a deal."

"Not me," says Jess, "I'd never make that bet. I knew you could do it." She winks at me.

"No way. Not good enough," says Abby.

I look at Abby. This is my first time going out to a bar with her. She's plenty cute enough that I don't want to make a horrible first impression. I shrug, "Fine, whatever ... you don't have to pay." I should have known that wouldn't be the end of it.

"If Abigail doesn't have to pay, why do I?" asks Kim.

"What are we? Eight? I'll get the next pitcher. I don't need party tricks, real or otherwise, to treat my friends," Rachel says. Kim has the good graces to look abashed. Abby scowls.

"Fine, fine. I'll pay," Abbey says, "But," she continues, "do your little magic trick on me and I'll sweeten the deal." She pauses for effect, "If it works, the rest of the night is totally on me." I wonder, for a moment, if I should pray to the god of female competitiveness. Perhaps they'd start to leave me alone.

"It doesn't work on everybody" I say. It's not entirely a lie.

"Bullshit. Prove to me that you can make me orgasm by just looking at me." She says.

"What do you think he just did?" Joshua jumps to my defense. Rachel and Kim both just look at me expectantly. I'm grateful for Joshua's support, but then I'm promptly distracted as a hockey player scores, making the table next to us explode with cheers. I don't follow hockey and I couldn't care less. Abby, however, gives a small cheer and finishes her beer in celebration.

"Jason and Jess have been tight for, like, ever" declares Kim. When you're in third year, 'since first year' is basically synonymous with 'forever'.

"Yeah" agrees Abby.

"You sure you want to have an orgasm in the middle of a bar?" I ask her, trying to sound smug as I gaze around the room filled primarily with jocks.

She follows my gaze, taking in my meaning. "I don't think I will," she answers, "and even if I do, it's not like anybody else will notice."

I sigh and try to look as though a great prank has just been needlessly spoiled. "Fine, okay." I say, "You've called my bluff, we faked it." As much fun as it was to throw on that secret demonstration with Jessica, there is no way I'm going to do the same thing to Abby. My ability and I made a mess of things in highschool. Fortunately, I'm old enough to learn from my mistakes and so I've learned to be careful with whom I use my 'gift' on. People I trust and randoms are both okay depending on the circumstance. Anybody in-between, however, is strictly off-limits.

"Jason!" says Jessica, "I did NOT fake that."

"Jess ... just let it go," I say. She looks about ready to say something so I cut her off, "Let it go okay?" I try to communicate my desire to move on with a meaningful look.

"Fuck!" Jess practically screams. The bar quiets for a moment as we become the focus of many curious eyes. It's only a moment, however, and a few seconds later Jess continues with much less volume but the same urgency, "Just do it Jason."

I look at Abby. She is looking back at me expectantly. The ability to jump into the minds of others has given me a unique insight into the human condition. If Abby – I reason – really didn't believe I could do it, then she should be at least a little surprised to see Jessica's vehemence that I can.

"Jess..." I say cautiously, "you told her."

"What?" she asks. Suddenly, she looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You told her." I accuse.

"No, I d-"

"Don't lie to me." I interrupt, "We talked about this. Why can nobody keep a secret anymore?"

Everybody else in our group is completely silent. Jess starts to say something, but I ignore her and turn my reproachful gaze on Abby instead. She looks somewhat startled.

"Fine," I say, feeling suddenly reckless, "you want in on the secret?" Abby still looks determined, if a bit less sure of herself, "Jessica has probably told you what it's like for her," From the way her eyes quickly dart in Jess' direction, I can tell that I'm right, "but it works differently on everybody. It's your first time. You're a bit drunk. The fact that it works really doesn't mean you'll be happy about it." Now she looks about ready to back out, "So ... you still want to try?"

"Yes." That's all; Just 'yes'.

"Ok," I respond, drowning my sigh with the concentration to use my gift a second time this evening. I feel that strange ripple in my brain accompanied by the familiar odd sensation that feels like I'm both sitting still as well as falling sideways toward Abby. Just like that, I'm in her head. Looking around, I'm still in the Brew Shack. I'm still in the same seat. So is Abby. The rest of the bar is entirely empty. The music has changed and is much quieter.

"What happened?" asks Abby, looking around.

"I don't know," I respond.

"Where did everybody go?" she wonders. I know this is all in her head, but I violate my most important rule if I explain anything about this vision to her so I hold my silence. It's easiest, I find, to take their mind off of the abnormalities.

"It's a lot to take in," I explain as I lean across the table and kiss her.

She deepens the kiss and tries to drink me in, "Wow, you're a good kisser."

Personalities often undergo a transformation once I'm inside the mind. Abby went from the extreme of self-assured bad-ass to the extreme of naïve wonderment. Both sides of her personality are ones I happen to like; so far anyway.

"It's happening!" she says suddenly as understanding dawns on her. She touches my lips with her fingers, "This feels so ... real. If this is just a dream ... I can do anything?" asks Abby. That she is so curious is surprising.

I shrug, "I don't know, try something."

"Okay." She stands up and as she walks toward the window, the entire room begins to rock gently back and forth. This is another first. Jessica, after a year of being mind-fucked can change little things like her clothes or the hue of her hair. My girlfriend, from highschool, eventually learned to make a chair pop into existence. It's Abby's first time and she's shaking her entire environment.

I've never experienced anything like this, so I begin to follow Abby toward the window. She's opening it as I arrive and I'm assaulted by the fresh ocean air. It's strange; we're still in the Brew Shack, but the room we're in is floating in the middle of the ocean. There is no land in sight. Seagulls are calling out to each other as they circle up above and waves are gently crashing into the sides of the building.

There's a splash when Abby hits the water.

"Come on, Jason! It's warm..." she says, then smirks and she brings a finger toward her mouth, "and salty."

There's altering your environment and then there's this. A pub floating in the middle of an ocean takes creativity. It also takes a lot more control then a normal person should have. It makes me wonder if, maybe, this isn't her first time being projected into her mind. If she is anything like me, I may need to be careful. I strengthen the mental guards that keep me from harm.

Keeping calm, I dive in head first. The water is extremely comfortable on my skin. I've never been to the ocean, but I didn't expect the taste of salt to be quite so visceral.

"I grew up near the ocean, in Canada" explains Abby, "This is amazing. It's not cold at all."

I've always wondered if I could change things as drastically as this. Though I've never tried, fell like I could. Trying anything like this would violate my most important rule.

"Why so pensive?" she asks.

"I don't know," I reply with a smile. I make no outward sign as I attempt to increase her libido.

She gives me a thoughtful look. As she swims toward me, I feel the ocean floor rise up to meet my feet. I'm standing by the time she crabs my neck, presses her wet body against mine and starts to drive her tongue as far down my throat as she can.

I realize that I have no idea when she changed into a bikini. Being with somebody who has this level of control is as fun as it is concerning.

"This is the best dream ... ever," declares Abby as she rubs herself against my erection. She starts kissing me again and I keep intensifying her hormones until I can feel her start to vibrate with need. I gently trace the outline of her spine and am rewarded with a moan and she orgasms. Sex in your head is never as raw or gritty as it is in real life, but that's easily made up for by how good everything feels and how easy orgasms are to come by.

"My first orgasm ... and we're just kissing," she gushes with excitement. It strikes me as the type of comment that doesn't require an answer. Doing this with somebody I don't know well enough is a delicate dance of avoiding any topics which may expose that I'm anything more than a figment of her own imagination.

Abby stops. "My dream-Jason isn't very much like the real Jason," She pouts, still rubbing herself against my erection.

"Maybe I can fix that," she smirks. I feel my erection tear through the fabric of my swim-trucks. I notice that she is no longer wearing her bikini bottoms as I penetrate her.

"Oh, that feels nice..." she says, "Oh, I've never felt to wantonly slutty. Oh God, this is good."

While more creative than any mind-scape I've been in, this certainly doesn't meet any criteria for kinky or slutty in my books. It's not a criticism she would want so I wisely keep my mouth shut as she comfortably, slowly, and methodically fucks me.

"I want another orgasm." She says, "this is my dream ... can't I just make myself orgasm?"

"I don't know" I say. She stops and gives me a strange look. "What's your favorite number?" she asks suddenly.

That is the strangest question I've ever had a girl ask me while I have my dick buried inside of her, "Uh, twelve."

"Twelve. Why twelve?"

I pause. "I don't know."

She pushes away from me, dislodging herself in the process. "Your favorite movie?" she asks.

"Don't have one," I answer, trying a different approach.

"You don't have a favorite movie?" she sounds incredulous, "And apparently you don't know anything. My dreams about math class are more interesting than this!" She is practically yelling now. I'm stunned. I'm not entirely sure why she's this angry.

She looks down at herself, as if just realizing she's still naked, "Fuck!" she yells. She looks at me, "How the hell can I be so angry and so fucking turned on at the same time?"

I honestly have no idea what to say, but I also have the distinct impression that letting her know that there something else I don't know would be a mistake.

She takes my silence as permission to keep ranting, "The sex feels ... so unreal, so good, too good. And, instead of getting fucked, I'm fucking myself on a talking warm Jason sex doll. FUCK!" I don't think I've ever heard her swear like this in the real world.

"Come here!" she demands. The ocean around me develops a current that begins to push me toward her. Suddenly I feel her will crash against my protective mental shields. It feels about as effective as being hit by a free-falling feather but the sensation surprises me. She is willing me to be horny. She is trying to do to me what I had done to her earlier. The attempt is so weak that she must have no idea what it is that she's doing.

I let myself feel all the lust she was trying to force onto me. Abby looks down, appreciating my erection.

"That's a good start," she mutters to herself.

"Yeah?" I ask

"Fuck it," she says, as I reach her. She looks into my eyes and reaches for my erection. I decide, in that moment, not to bother fucking the orgasms out of her. Normally, that's half the fun, but for some reason, I want to amaze her more then I want to fuck her senseless. I use one of the many tricks I've learned over years of doing this.

I reach out to that part of her mind that understands her pleasure and isolate it from the mess of emotions and experiences surrounding it. Made bare, I feel the pleasure center of her brain begin to throb and expand, unhindered. Her hand wraps around my cock and her eyes widen in surprise as the simple sensation of touch causes her entire body tense up with desire.

She meets her surprise with a moan and she notices that the pleasure she is feeling just keeps strengthening. Her first orgasm rockets through her central nervous system with such force that she starts convulsing. The pleasure continues to build anyway. Her mind has never been able to feel pleasure in the way it is starting to now. The intensity of the feeling should scare her, but that part of her brain is not present now. Every little detail that has ever gotten in the way of her pleasure is no longer there. Her reliance on sensation, touch, or mood is gone. Her need to understand and rationalize is gone. The entire power of her mind focuses on her pleasure and nothing else.

The world around us starts to fade. Moments later, we're floating in a white expanse that stretches outward. Still dripping wet, I orient myself and look at Abby. Her skin is starting to melt as her mind stops worrying about the need project itself into this mental world. Her mind begins to project the pleasure she is feeling as ripples that I can only feel through the sense that lets me feel her mind. The ripples begin to propagate throughout the white-wash world around me.

I have no idea what this must feel like for her. Her skin begins to turn transparent as the ripples intensify. Just as she is about to disappear entirely, I release the gates holding back the rest of her mind and let reality flood back into her.

The world snaps violently back into place so that we are once again in the ocean next to a floating pub. Abby is floating in the air above the water. Her skin is flush and covered in a layer of sweat. Saliva is dripping out of the side of her mouth. Her hair looks as though it were tousled by a hurricane and her eyes still have a faraway gaze as though she hasn't entirely returned to her own body yet. Just as she recovers enough to let gravity start pulling her back into the ocean, I pull out of her mind.

We're back in the bar. Abby's entire body shakes for a moment and then she quickly stands up. There's a look of genuine surprise on her face as she looks around. Joshua is gaping at her.

"Did it work?" I ask. I have to act like only a fraction of a second has passed. My mind seems fairly aware of the fact that this all happened in the span of a moment, so it's not hard to pretend I didn't experience any of it.

"Yeah ... that's ... not what I expected," she says slowly.

"Did he make you ... you know?" asks Joshua. I think he may have a bit of a crush her.

"Well," says Abby by way of an answer, "The rest of the night is definitely on me." She still seems a bit dazed. There's some good natured cheering from the rest of the table and then a few more pitchers are ordered.

I'm surprised she doesn't have any questions. I'd guess Jessica has filled her in. Abby spends the rest of the night sort of avoiding me. It's not overtly obvious, but there is tension in her voice when she talks to me and I get an overall feeling that she's avoiding eye contact where possible.

I don't really blame her. I often wonder about the moral implications of what I do. It isn't as though anybody can ever truly consent. Beforehand they couldn't understand, during they seem incapable of saying no, and after the fact is a bit too late. It's why I hate the first time I do this to a person.

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