Chapter 6

I saunter into my next class, physics, feeling a sense of power and control that’s as intoxicating as the scent of a freshly picked apple. The room is cold, sterile, a stark contrast to the warm, velvety embrace of sexual energy that seems to follow me everywhere. I take my seat, my mind already racing with ideas of how I can manipulate this new setting to my advantage.

And then, there she is—Bethany Williams. She’s a vision in this sea of ignorance, a beacon of potential. Her long, chocolate hair cascades down her back, framing her face like a work of art. Her eyes are a deep shade of brown, and they sparkle with curiosity as she glances around the room, seemingly unaware of the tumultuous desires she stirs up in me. Her body, though still developing, boasts the early curves of a woman, the kind that make you want to reach out and touch, to trace the lines of her hips and breasts. The way she carries herself—so confidently, so oblivious to the effect she has—makes my blood boil.

But before I can even get a word in, the fat girl who usually occupies the chair beside her glares at me, her cheeks flushing red. I dump my bag on her desk and mutter, ‘Move.’ She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with glare charged with a burst of mana, daring her to test me. I flick a thread of mana toward her, a sharp pulse that pricks at her side, she flinches, her breath catching. I repeat the move, she grunts in pain and looks at me in fear. She gathers her books, retreating with a dramatic sigh, the jiggle of her body echoing through the room. The other students whisper, their eyes glued to the spectacle, but I don’t care. All that matters is that I’m now sitting next to the object of my next conquest.

Bethany turns to me, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What do you want?” she asks, her voice cold.

“I noticed your skin,” I say, my tone gentle and empathetic. “It looks like you’re dealing with some acne.”

Her hand darts to her face, a gesture of self-consciousness that makes my heart ache. “Yeah,” she murmurs, her voice thick with embarrassment. “It’s just stress, I guess.”

“Stress can be a powerful enemy,” I say, my voice filled with understanding. “But don’t worry, I know how to banish it from your life.”

Her eyes widen, and she leans closer, eager for the solution to her torment. “How?” she asks, hope coloring her voice.

“With my special brand of spiritual healing, of course,” I reply, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. “It’s all about balancing the body’s energy, the mana within.”

Her eyes are on me, wide and unblinking, as she absorbs every word. “How do you do that?” she asks, her curiosity piqued.

“It’s a process,” I explain, leaning in closer. “One that requires privacy and trust. It might be best if we continue this discussion in the school infirmary.”

Her eyes dart around the room, and she nods slightly, understanding the implication. “Can ... can I go now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” I reply, my tone soothing. “Because you’re not well.”

“I’m not?” Beth looked puzzled.

Being the only one that can flat out lie in this world really is a superpower. And thats on top of a whole bunch of other superpowers.

“No you don’t look well. I’m a healer so I should know. Tell Mr. Jenkins that you’re feeling faint and need to lie down. I’ll offer to take you to the infirmary.”

Bethany’s gaze flickers to the teacher and back to me before she nods, the wheels in her head turning as she processes the situation. She stands up, swaying slightly, and raises her hand. “Mr. Jenkins,” she says, her voice just loud enough to carry over the low murmur of the classroom. “Could I please be excused? I’m not feeling well.”

Mr. Jenkins, a portly man with a permanent sheen of sweat on his forehead, looks up from his paperwork with a sigh. “Miss Williams, is it really necessary?” he asks, his voice thick with irritation.

“I’m sorry, Mr Jenkins,” she whimpers, “but I think I’m about to pass out.”

Mr. Jenkins’s irritation morphs into concern. “Oh dear,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Yes, yes, of course. Take her to the infirmary, young man.”

I stand up, all too eager to help, and offer my arm to Bethany. She takes it, her eyes never leaving mine as we make our way out of the classroom and into the hallway. The whispers and stares of my classmates follow us, but I ignore them. All that matters is the prize waiting for me in the quiet solitude of the school’s infirmary.

Once the door clicks shut behind us, she turns to me, the facade of illness dropping away. “Alright, what’s this spiritual healing you’re talking about?” she asks, her voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “How does it work?”

“It’s all about touch,” I murmur, guiding her to the infirmary bed. “And energy. The right touch in the right places can unlock the healing potential within your body.”

Like the rest of the people in this world, she doesn’t know about lying or deception but her eyes search mine, looking for stupidity or madness, but all she finds is intelligence and wisdom beyond my seeming 14 years. She’s just like the rest of them—naive, untouched, desperate for something more than the mechanical, loveless lives they’ve been taught to lead.

“Lie down,” I instruct, my voice calm and soothing. “We’ll start with something simple. Just relax, and let the energy flow.”

Bethany hesitates, then lies down on the bed, her eyes on me as I sit beside her. I place my hand gently on her forehead, feigning concern. I release a tiny amount of mana into the pleasure centre of her brain and she flinches at the contact, and I can almost feel the heat of her curiosity. “Now,” I begin, “just breathe deeply, and let go of any tension.”

I trace my hand down her cheek, and she shivers, her breath hitching. “This is going to be a new sensation for you,” I whisper, watching her pulse quicken. “But I promise it will help.”

My fingertips graze her neck, moving in small, feather-light circles. The room seems to hold its breath as I explore the softness of her skin, each touch a silent promise of the ecstasy I’ll introduce her to. She closes her eyes, her chest rising and falling in anticipation. The air thickens with tension, a silent dance between predator and prey.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

“Shh,” I say, placing a finger on her plump lips. “Just relax. This is all for your own good.”

Her eyes widen as she feels the warmth of my hand, and I can see the beginnings of arousal blossom in her expression. Her breathing becomes more rapid, her chest rising and falling with every shallow inhale. I move my hand down her neck, feeling the smooth skin beneath my fingertips, and continue down to her chest, lingering over her heart. Her pulse beats a frantic rhythm, echoing the drumming of desire in my own chest.

“Do you feel it?” I ask softly, my voice a gentle coax. “The energy? It’s all around us, just waiting to be channeled.”

Bethany nods, her eyes still closed tight, her breath coming in short gasps. “I ... I think so,” she whispers.

I lean in closer, my breath hot against her skin as I kiss her neck, her pulse fluttering under my lips like a trapped butterfly. Her body tenses, and she lets out a soft moan as my teeth graze her ear lobe. The sound is music to my ears, a sweet symphony of innocence on the cusp of discovery. I feel a thrill of power surge through me, knowing that I am the one guiding her through this uncharted territory.

My hand slides down to her chest, cupping one of her firm, untouched breasts. She gasps, and her eyes fly open, looking into mine with a mix of fear and excitement. “What are you doing?” she asks again, but this time, the fear is diluted by the curiosity that’s taken root in her gaze.

“Just letting the energy flow,” I murmur, giving her nipple a gentle squeeze. She bites her lip, and I see the conflict in her eyes—the innocence that tells her this isn’t right battling with the newfound sensation that’s telling her it feels incredible. “Relax,” I coax, “let me show you how good it can be.”

With a tremble, she nods, and I take that as my cue. I lean over her, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s tender yet demanding. Her mouth opens with a soft whimper, allowing my tongue to dance with hers in a duel of exploration. The taste of her—sweet and unblemished—is a potent aphrodisiac. Her hand moves to my chest, the touch tentative at first, but as I continue my ministrations, it becomes more insistent, her nails digging into my shirt as if to hold on to something real in this whirlwind of new sensation.

I break the kiss, and she looks up at me, her eyes glazed with desire. “Is this ... part of the healing?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“It’s the most important part,” I whisper, my hand sliding down her stomach to the waistband of her skirt. “Your body holds so much power, so much beauty that’s just waiting to be unlocked.”

Her eyes widen slightly as I unbutton her skirt, revealing the soft, untouched flesh beneath. She’s wearing plain white underwear, a stark contrast to the sexual knowledge I’m about to impart. “Bethany,” I say, my voice low and commanding, “trust me.”

Her nod is all the permission I need. I slide her skirt down her legs, taking in the sight of her incredible thighs. Her shapely legs are a tantalizing vision of curves and power, where soft, plush flesh meets toned muscle in a sultry dance of form. They’re the kind of legs that beckon with every step, their generous contours swaying with a hypnotic rhythm—smooth as silk, yet firm with a promise of strength.

And as for her ass, her pert and full ass is a captivating masterpiece of curves and confidence. It rises with a playful bounce as she lifts her hips to allow me to remove her skirt, each cheek perfectly rounded and taut, like ripe fruit begging to be admired. Smooth and supple, it sways with a sultry rhythm, exuding a magnetic allure that draws the eye and quickens the pulse. The gentle dip at the small of the back accentuates its fullness, a seductive contrast that invites lingering glances. It’s a tantalizing blend of firmness and softness, radiating raw, effortless sexiness with every step.

I can feel my cock thickening, straining against my pants. The scent of her arousal is faint but unmistakable, and I revel in the power it gives me. With a gentle touch, I trace the line of her underwear, watching her body respond. Her breath hitches, her chest heaving as she tries to make sense of the newfound feelings coursing through her.

“This is ... this is...” she stammers, her voice trailing off as I push her panties aside to reveal her virgin pussy. It’s a perfect pink bud, untouched by any man. I can’t wait to claim it, to show her the pleasure that’s been denied to her in this world of innocence.

My mouth descends, and my tongue traces the soft folds of her labia. She jolts with surprise, and I feel a thrill of power as she gasps. Bethany is untouched, so pure, and the taste of her is intoxicating. I lick and probe, feeling her body tense and relax with each stroke. Her legs quiver, and she arches her back, pushing herself closer to my hungry mouth.

As I pleasure her, I focus my mana, weaving it through my tongue and into her skin. The power flows from me to her, and I can feel the pulses of energy as it cleanses and heals. Her skin, once marred by the cruel whispers of acne, now becomes clear and flawless under my ministrations. Each blemish and scar vanishes as if erased by an invisible hand, leaving her skin as smooth as porcelain.

Her breath comes in quick gasps now, her hips bucking upward in response to my skilled touch. I can feel her tension building, the energy coiling like a spring in her core, and I know she’s close. With a flick of my tongue, I find her clit and begin to tease it, the pads of my fingers massaging the tender flesh around it. Her legs tighten around my head, and she lets out a keening wail, her body shuddering as she reaches the peak of her orgasm.

The power of her release floods my mana reserves, filling me with warmth and vitality. As she comes down from the high, I pull away, watching as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes are dazed, her cheeks flushed a deep red. She looks at me with a mix of awe and confusion. “What ... what was that?” she asks, her voice a trembling whisper.

I hand her a small handheld mirror that was lying on the desk. “This,” I say, my voice calm and steady, “is a reflection of your beauty, your power.” I guide her hand to hold the mirror in front of her face. “Look at yourself, Bethany.”

Her eyes widen as she sees her new, flawless complexion. “How ... how did you do that?” she asks, her voice still shaking from the aftermath of her climax.

“It’s all part of the healing,” I reply with a knowing smile. “Your body has the power to purge the impurities within. All it needs is the right ... encouragement.”

Bethany’s hand lingers on her cheek, tracing the smooth skin where moments ago had been a minefield of blemishes. “It’s ... it’s amazing,” she breathes, her voice still shaky from the intensity of the experience. “But ... what’s next?”

“Ah, the healing process is quite thorough,” I say, my voice a gentle purr. “But don’t worry, we’re almost done. There’s just a little more work to be done.”

Bethany’s eyes are still glazed over with pleasure and amazement, but the question lingers in the air. “What more?” she asks, her voice trembling with excitement and nerves.

I stand up, smoothing down my shirt, and gesture for her to do the same. “Now, for the final part of your healing, I need you to remove all your clothing,” I explain, keeping my tone calm and reassuring. “This will allow the energy to flow freely through your entire body, purifying you from the inside out.”

Bethany looks at me with a mix of trepidation and excitement, her pupils dilated from the intensity of her first orgasm. She sits up and starts to unbutton her blouse, her trembling hands revealing the lacy bra beneath. With each item of clothing she discards, I feel a surge of power, a potent mix of innocence and burgeoning desire.

As she unhooks her bra, her full breasts spill out, perfect and unblemished, thanks to my mana. I watch with a smoldering gaze as she removes off the rest of her clothes. My cock, already hard from the sight and smell of her arousal, strains against my pants. The room feels electric with anticipation.

I stand and begin to undress, my clothes falling to the floor one by one. She watches me, her eyes widening as she takes in my naked form. “You’re so ... different,” she murmurs, her gaze lingering on my cock. It’s thick and long, a stark contrast to the pitiful excuses for penises that the men of this world possess.

As I stand before her fully exposed, she can’t help but stare. “What is that?” she asks, her voice filled with wonder as she points at my erect member. “It’s so much bigger than the ones in the biology books.”

“In this world, I am indeed blessed,” I say with a smirk. “It’s because I’m the only true spiritual healer that has ever been born. You see, to harness the energy needed to perform these miracles, one must have a ... substantial conduit.” I gesture to my cock, which only grows more rigid under her curious gaze.

I study her beautiful naked body, taking in the curves and the full mounds of her breasts that bounce slightly with each shaky breath she takes. Her nipples are tight buds of pink, begging to be sucked and teased. Her stomach is flat and her hips wide, leading down to the perfectly trimmed bush that frames her sex. It’s a sight that would make any man from my world weep with envy, but here, it’s just another day in the office.

Taking her gently by the shoulders, I guide her to her feet, her skin like warm silk against mine. Our eyes lock as I pull her into my embrace, my cock nestling between her thighs. Her eyes dart down to the unfamiliar bulge between us, and she gasps, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of red. “This is all part of the healing,” I murmur into her ear, my breath hot and moist, sending shivers down her spine. “We must become one to truly purify you.”

My hands glide over her smooth, unblemished skin, feeling the curve of her back, the softness of her ass. I cup one of her breasts, my thumb brushing over her erect nipple, and she gasps again, her eyes fluttering closed. Her body responds to me naturally, a symphony of sensation playing out on her face as she experiences the thrill of intimate contact for the first time. My other hand slides down to her stomach, feeling the muscles quiver as I draw her closer, the warmth of her sex pressing against my shaft.

Our kiss deepens, our tongues dancing together as she explores the new sensation. Her inexperience is a thrill, a reminder of the power I hold in this strange, asexual world. My cock nudges her pussy, and I feel her legs begin to tremble. I know she’s ready, eager to experience more.

Gently, I ease her back onto the couch, the cushioned surface molding to her flawless form. Our kisses don’t break as I lay her down, the fabric of the couch cool against her back. She’s pliant in my arms, her curiosity and innocence a potent aphrodisiac. Her breath quickens as I align our bodies, my cock sliding along her wetness, teasing her entrance.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I push into her, feeling the resistance of her virginity give way to my insistence. She winces, a soft whimper of pain escaping her lips, but I’m relentless, pushing through until I’m fully sheathed in her tight embrace. The sensation is delicious, the power of claiming something so untouched and pure filling me with a dark thrill.