The Pulse
Copyright© 2025 by Golasgil
Chapter 1
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Jake Conway has fought his way through school and at eighteen the end is in sight. At the bottom of the popularity heap, he can't wait to leave school and start a new life. But then The Pulse happens and his life is changed for ever.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Mind Control Romantic Heterosexual Fiction School Rough Spanking Anal Sex Double Penetration Masturbation Oral Sex Safe Sex
Books spilled out of my bag onto the ground as I was knocked to the floor. Raucous laughter came from the in-crowd surrounding Chris Waite as they moved further down the corridor.
Jamie, my only friend, came running up from his class and tried to help me up but I was looking at my ruined bag. The buckle holding the strap to the bag had snapped and it was split at the bottom.
“Just another day in paradise,” said Jamie. Wasn’t it ever!
I hauled myself upright, with nothing worse to show for my tumble than the embarrassment of being picked on yet again. I often imagined that I was wearing a turd magnet on my head which was irresistible to any and all of the scumbags in the school.
“Thanks Jamie,” I said, and we hurried our separate ways to get to class.
At eighteen I was a late developer. I had just had a growth spurt, was a shade over six feet tall and had just finished dealing with my voice changing from what had been a fairly decent boy soprano to, well, whatever register it chose when I opened my mouth. It had been humiliating in the extreme. My growth spurt meant that my clothes were constantly trying to keep pace with me and with it being the end of the year, my parents were trying to make this final school uniform last.
I made it into my English Literature class just in time. Mr Kelson was a senior teacher at the school but could bore anyone into submission. His classes were quiet which was a wonderful respite. At the end of term, as a special treat, Mr Kelson would occasionally read his favourite section from Lord of the Rings. This was better than working but only just.
“Doom, doom, went the drums!”
I let the familiar passage roll over me as I tried to figure out how to make it out of school in one piece. I’d obviously become the target of choice earlier today. Who knows why? Maybe I’d been allowed to be anonymous for too long? Time ticked by and suddenly everyone was moving as the lesson ended.
I tried my best to get out with the initial rush, hoping that I’d be lost in the swarm heading down the hall. My bag tucked under my arm I made it to my bike and was unlocking it when I was shoved from behind.
“Hey arsewipe!”
Fuck.
I looked up and saw it was Chris Waite. Two hundred and twenty pounds of rugby playing muscle.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
There is never a good answer to this sort of question. I knew that the oaf was just looking for the hint of a reason to pummel me. So I stayed quiet.
He moved closer. Thick curly hair, a serious monobrow and a surly sneer completed the picture. Shave an ape and you’re probably pretty close with the rest of him.
“I ... said ... where ... are ... you ... fucking ... going?”
He punctuated each word with a prodded finger to my chest, forcing me backwards until I was against the wall.
My body flooded with adrenaline as the imminent beating approached.
And eerily time seemed to stand still. I felt a weird ... pulse, I suppose you’d call it. A feeling of pressure almost like a heartbeat but behind both of my eyes at the same time.
“You know I can fix that for you?”
I hadn’t even thought those words! Where the fuck had that come from?
“What are you fucking talking about?” shouted the ape, looking suspicious.
“Your technology project. I can fix it.”
“How...?” Chris slowly lowered his fist and was looking perplexed. “You can fix...? I mean, what the fuck do you care about my project you shit?”
“I finished my assignment a bit early and you were sitting at the terminal in front of me. You seemed to have caused some kind of a loop. I can fix it.”
By some miracle the fist lowered. I had no idea who, where, what or why that piece of information had suddenly been dredged from the recesses of my brain three days ago. But whatever it was, it was important to Chris.
“When?”
“Now, if the computer lab is still open.”
I waited with bated breath. I saw Jamie skidding to a halt round the corner, taking in the scene.
“Yeah.” It’s almost like Chris was in some kind of daze. “Get that shit finished and you can go.”
“OK then” I said, slowly pulling myself upright. I grabbed my bag and followed Chris back towards the computer lab. Jamie was staring at the two of us.
“What the fuck are you looking at you turd?” snarled Chris.
After a murmured, “nothing” Jamie turned tail and fled leaving me to whatever weirdness was happening here.
Forty-five minutes later I found Jamie waiting for me on our route home. We varied it most nights because it was the safest option to avoid the various predators.
“Harry Youle was bragging that Waite was going after you. I ran like hell and when I got there you’re agreeing to help him with his technology project...? What’s going on, Jake?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Thank the gods for tech!”
We headed home and I told Jamie how I’d fixed his error in the code. I also told him how I saw the conditional offer letter for Exeter university that had come out of his bag. Tech was one of the subjects Waite would need to get in and if he hadn’t got his project finished then he probably wouldn’t have got the grades that he needed.
“Exeter have the most amazing rugby programme. But they have very high academic standards. I suppose that the ape needed this to be able to get in.”
“Maybe he’ll finally leave us alone now.”
“Chance would be a fine thing. You could always fuck up his tech project for him so that he doesn’t!”
I laughed.
“That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had. It’s only fair to fuck up his life after what he’s done to us the last few years here.”
We parted ways at the bottom of the hill and I slogged my way up on my old bike. I say on my old bike. It was probably my grandad’s old bike. No fifteen-gear racer for me. But it worked, albeit only in the highest of its three gears. The only way to make it work was get up to speed and pedal like crazy until you got to the top. It was better than walking but this hill killed me every night.
I arrived home and as usual my parents were busy sniping at each other. Quite why they were still married is unclear to me. I really hoped it wasn’t for my sake. They were honestly great individually but together...? One of these days I’d find out what it was that had attracted them to each other. As of now it was tough to guess.
Later that night after explaining away the broken bag to my parents I lay in bed.
Why on earth had I said what I said? How had I known what to say? And at the precise moment that I needed it? Sleep took a long while to come.
“You’re going to be late”
“Huh? What?”
I’d slept in. We’d had a power cut in the night and my radio alarm was flashing away “12.00” on the display. I looked at my watch and made a dash for the bathroom. I hated rushing.
I grabbed a slice of toast on my way out of the door, jumped on my ancient bike and slowly got up to speed as I headed down the hill.
The morning run was always bad but this morning it was chaos. Imagine a long straight road about quarter of a mile long. On one side it’s just woods but on the other some nice houses and sub-urban roads leading off. At the bottom of the hill is a small roundabout and just before the roundabout is a junior school. After the roundabout there are two other private junior schools and the large fifteen-hundred pupil school that I go to.
With all the parents dropping off their kids it was carnage. People parking up meant that there wasn’t enough room for two cars to pass each other. Not a problem for me but the amount of road rage was unreal.
I sped down the hill with half an eye on my watch to see whether I’d make it into my form on time when a car decided it had had enough of waiting and it turned right directly in front of me.
I slammed on the brakes but the bike was old and I might as well have put my feet down to try and slow down. My heart rate went through the roof. And again, for the second time in two days, there it was. A pulse behind my eyes.
Everything went into slow motion.
As my front wheel was being destroyed against the rear wheel of the car, some outside force triggered muscles I didn’t know I had. I powered off the pedals and leapt over the handlebars, rolled across the roof of the SUV and somersaulted to a stop about ten yards beyond the car.
I hadn’t even dropped my bag. My bag taped up with duct-tape.
Looking back at the car I saw a mother getting out of the driver’s seat with her hand over her mouth obviously fearing the worst. In the back was Jennifer Sawyer, the fever dream of my fantasies.
Let me pause briefly here to describe her because, believe me when I say she’s worth taking time over. I had spent a lot of time fantasising about her over the last two years.
Jennifer was about five foot five with long wavy dark hair. She usually wore it swept over one side but recently with the warmer weather was wearing it up in a ponytail. She wasn’t overtly sexual in what she wore but the bland black and yellow school uniform looked like she was modelling high fashion to me. How she did it I have no idea.
She’s a gymnast and has that tight toned body with the perfect arse and perky tits that had that wonderful wobble. Probably a generous B cup. She was maybe 105 pounds and I had it bad.
And that morning she was actually looking at me - possibly for the first time.
“My God, are you alright?” asked her mother.
“Er ... yeah ... I’m OK I think.”
Taking my obvious lack of injury into account her eyes turned shrewish and calculating.
“Well that’s a relief ... but look at the state of my car! I was making a perfectly legal turn and you slam into the side of me obviously going too fast. You even set off the air bag you hit the car so hard. This is going to cost a fortune. Who are your parents? I’m going to need to speak to them to get this sorted out.”
As my anger rose I felt the pulse behind my eyes again and before I knew it words were pouring out of me.
“You can stop that right there. I’ll just speak to the various other drivers and get their contact details for witness statements. I’m sure that they’ll support me when I say that you pulled out with no signal, without checking your mirrors while I was passing quite legally down the side of the traffic. Didn’t you have a big dent in your last car as well? I’m sure that we can check your insurance history and understand whether this is an isolated incident. I’ll also be looking for you to make it up to me as my bike has had the frame bent and front wheel destroyed. What are your insurance details?”
Her mouth just opened and closed for a moment before a car coming in the opposite direction beeped at her to get her car out of the way. That broke the spell. She climbed back into her car and moved it to one side before calmly handing me her insurance details.
I did speak to the people behind me in the queue, getting a high five from one of the kids in the year below (“I can’t believe you man. You were like Spiderman or some parkour dude!”) and then abandoned my wrecked bike in the woods before heading in to school.
The rest of the day went weirdly well. Jamie and I seemed to have a “do not touch” bubble around us. Word of my epic leap quickly made its way around the school and I found myself talking through the event again and again to people that I didn’t think even knew my name.
And it became a memorably good day when Jennifer Sawyer swept past and said over her shoulder,
“Congratulations, I’m not sure anyone has shut my mother up like that before. You should come to gymnastics if you can move like that.”
“Err ... thanks.”
She just smiled and walked on with her friends gossiping around her while I stood there with a semi in some kind of dream state.
“I just got off the phone to Celia Sawyer - she said you were in an accident! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mum’s voice always started to go up in pitch as she got more concerned. And she was in full mama bear protective mode right now.
“Oh right. I forgot to tell you.”
“You forgot ... She just called to ask for our address for the insurance company. What did you do? Are you alright? How much is it going to cost?”
“Mum, calm down. She was in the queue going down the hill to school and decided she couldn’t wait and pulled out on me without looking. I just rolled over the top of the car with no bruises or anything but my bike was totaled.”
“She what!” She shrieked obviously about to hit full histrionics.
For the first time I went looking for the pulse. I closed my eyes and ... I don’t know ... reached back and down and this surge of blueish light washed back through me and there it was.
Pulse.
“Calm down Mum. I’m not hurt and it’s not going to cost us a penny.”
Her colour almost immediately returned closer to normal and that shrieky note left her voice completely. She became weirdly calm.
“It ... it’s not?”
“No. They need the address to pay for a replacement bike.”
“Oh.”
As she went quiet I thought that I’d chance my luck.
“And mum, I want to join the local gymnastics club down at the school. I should be able to pay for most of it from my part time job but I need some new kit.”
With the same weird calm, she said “of course, dear.”
And that was that! No long discussions about why we couldn’t afford it or complaints about how much I was growing. Just “of course, dear”! I got the hell out of there and headed up to my room. I had a date with my hand and the memory of Jennifer Sawyer actually talking to me.
Three days after the accident I received a cheque through the post for £500 complete with a handwritten apology from Celia Sawyer. I was stunned. Added to my savings I’d finally be able to buy my neighbours old mini. At last a car of my own! Old Bill had bought it for his son years ago. He had long since moved on from it and it had been sitting on the drive for two years now. He’d promised me that I could have it for a thousand pounds if I kept mowing his lawn every couple of weeks. I was doing that anyway and a thousand pounds? The car was worth twice that, before we’d spent the time fixing it up.
But it was the tone of the letter from Celia Sawyer that was slightly unsettling. And at the same time strangely exciting. How she’d like to make it up to me. How brave I’d been. How I should drop by any time that I was passing.
Looking at her address at the top of the letter they didn’t live a long way away from my weekend job at the local garden centre.
What was I thinking? Why would I even consider that? I was just reading too much into it.
She’d been a complete bitch until I’d told her...
Yes. Until -I- told her to stop. With the pulse.
What else had I said?
That she was going to make it up to me...? Or something like that. I started to get butterflies in my stomach. Did this mean that the pulse had a lasting effect...? It wasn’t just in the moment stuff? Is that why Waite and his apes had left Jamie and me alone for the last couple of days?
I needed to think this through.
My mind was racing. I needed to try and figure this out. Work was tomorrow and gave me the perfect opportunity to be around a bunch of people as I helped out in the warehouse, with deliveries and any other odd job that needed doing. And of course surrounded by the Great British Public. Ugh.
I lay back on my bed and tried to visualise reaching for the pulse again. I almost startled myself by how quickly I was able to find that energy again. This time instead of reaching I tried to picture what it looked like. I suddenly got a clear image of a multi-coloured ball of light, swirling in the darkness.
After studying it for a while I could see that it was made up of strands of red, blue, yellow, green and purple light. Interesting. It had flashed blue when I spoke to mum. What did that mean? Did it mean anything?
I reached for the ball and randomly pulled at the purple colour.
Instantly I was mentally transported out of my room, up and out of my house and down to the nicer part of town near where I worked. My consciousness slowed its pace as I drew closer and saw Jennifer Sawyer walking up the last steps to her front door. All the lights were out in the house - a lovely big place set back from the road with nice gardens around it giving it plenty of privacy.
If I hadn’t been lying down already I would have fallen over, I was so shocked. No guesses what my subconscious was focused on then! The image started to fade as I relaxed. I rapidly concentrated again and as I started to follow Jennifer into the house, I caught sight of a figure lurking in the bushes at the side of the house.
Curious, I moved my focus in that direction. I didn’t recognise the man, but he was wearing black and was carrying a bag. He must have been facing away from the house when Jennifer got home. He started to pull a metal bar out of the bag, looking around cautiously as he approached the window in front of him.
I exited the pulse as if a bucket of cold water had been dropped on me. I scrambled to the phone at the top of the stairs and called 999.
“Emergency services. Which service do you require?”
“The police.”
“Please hold.”
The line clicked and then rang twice.
“Hampshire police - what’s your emergency?”
“I’ve just seen a burglar attempting to break into a house on Allen Street in Basingstoke.”
“What number please?”
“12”
“Thank you, I’ll request a patrol car. Please stay on the line so that I can take some details.”
At that I hung up. How was I supposed to explain how I knew that someone was breaking into Jennifer’s house?
But what if the police didn’t get there fast enough?
I ran downstairs and was out across the lawn to our next door neighbours place in a flash. Bill was in his garage getting a bottle of wine for his evening meal. He looked up when he heard me coming.
“Hello young Jake. A bit late to mow the lawn isn’t it?”
“Mr Davison, I was wondering if I could take the mini for a quick spin - just to make sure that everything is still ready before I take it for its MOT this weekend?”
“Well, I’d need to check that you were safely covered on the insurance first Jake. Why don’t you come inside and...”
I reached. And pulsed.
“Mr Davison. It would be great if I could just take it round the block. It won’t take long and you don’t need to bother yourself.”
“Yes ... I ... err ... yes that would be fine. The keys are just here by the door.”
“Thank you Mr Davison!”
I grabbed the keys and was in the car and on the way to Jennifer’s before old Bill could shut the door.
I broke a few speed limits getting there and made it in about ten minutes. As I pulled into Allen Road I saw blue lights flashing and much to my relief I saw two police officers dragging the man that I’d seen outside the house down the long gravel drive. Jennifer was at the door looking very pale and shaken.
I’d parked a bit too close to the house and one of the policemen called out to me.
“Excuse me sir.”
Dammit! The car had no MOT and my insurance didn’t start until Sunday! This was all I needed.
“Yes officer?”
“Do you live around here? Do you know this family?”
“I go to school with the Sawyer’s daughter, officer.”
“We have to take this one back to the cells. I can’t stay here, and it might be a while before another officer can get here. Will you go and see if she wants to have a familiar face around?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you! Come on lad, do us all a favour here.”
“Right, OK.”
I turned off the engine and walked up the driveway. Jennifer looked very upset but when she saw me she just looked puzzled.
“Jake?”
“Hi Jennifer.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I ... I was on my way to collect something from work when I saw the police lights outside your house. I just drove past to see if everything was alright and the officer asked me to check on you. Are you OK?”
“I think so.”
She spoke the words in a very small fragile sounding voice and I would have given anything to hold her in my arms and comfort her in that moment.
“Is there anything that I can do? Do you want me to...” I cast around in my head for something non-threatening that might help. “ ... sit out front here until your parents get home?”
“Oh I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’d freeze. But I’d like some company until mum and dad get back from the theatre. Do you think you could wait with me until then?”
Her eyes looked up at me and I dare anyone to look into those stunning pools and say no to anything. I’m still amazed to this day that I could keep the shaking out of my voice. This was Jennifer Sawyer!
“Of course.”
She smiled shyly and held the door open for me. The policeman gave me the thumbs up and I walked into their large tastefully decorated house. It felt a bit like a show house, not like a real home to be honest. You could have fitted our house into it three times over.
She closed the door and led me into the huge kitchen. I just managed to avoid being caught checking out her arse as she turned to offer me a drink. I know that I shouldn’t have been but I’m only human.
She was still in her workout gear - a tracksuit with the jacket unzipped, a tight fitting top showing her chest off delightfully and her gorgeous hair tied up in a ponytail.
“A coke would be great, thanks.”
We settled onto comfortable stools at either end of the breakfast island, me with my coke, her with a cup of coffee made using a special ground stuff. It smelled amazing.
“What happened Jennifer? If you’re OK to talk about it, that is...”
She shuddered and took a deep breath before answering.
“It’s OK. It all happened so fast, I’m not quite sure exactly what -did- happen.”
She paused to push some stray hair from her eyes before settling herself. A small frown formed a crease between her eyes as she concentrated. She looked adorable.
“I was coming back from gymnastics practice,” and she gestured at her outfit before pulling her tracksuit top close around her. She looked down into her steaming cup of coffee as she spoke. Looking through the steam at her memories.
“I opened the door and started to make myself a drink. I knew my parents were out this evening so when I heard the sound of breaking glass I quickly turned off the light and ... and I just hid. I heard movement from the other side of the house - the floorboards creak awfully here. It was coming from just across the hall. And then the kettle started whistling. I didn’t know what to do. I was about to run for the back door when there was a knock on the door and I saw the police outside. I’ve never been so pleased to see them in all my life!”
“There was a major struggle, lots of shouting and noise. That ... odious man trashed the place before they finally managed to grab him. It was so frightening.”
She looked up, bringing her focus back to the room.
“But what puzzles me is how the police knew to come here in the first place. I certainly didn’t see the man when I got home. How would anyone walking past have seen him? I don’t get it. The police said they’d had an anonymous tip off.”
“Maybe someone saw him climb over a fence or through a hedge?”
“Maybe. Whoever it was I’d like to thank them properly. It could have been ... really unpleasant.” She shuddered.
“You’ve been really brave. I would have been a puddle on the floor.”
“Thank you. I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.” She smiled again and I might as well have been in another world.
“I’d suggest that we go and sit down in the sitting room but it’s been trashed and I don’t want to go anywhere near it.”
“Did the police find how he got in?”
“I guess through the window ... oh no! But it will still be broken!”
It was obvious that Jennifer was still very shocked. The calmness that had come while she was telling me the story vanished and she started to look panicked and tearful.
“It’s OK. We can fix this. Let me go and take a look. There are a number of tradesmen that do work for the garden centre that I know. Let’s see what needs doing.”
The next hour was spent tidying up glass, measuring window sizes and calling around for a twenty-four hour glazier to come over. She slowly came out of her shell and I kept her busy finding tools, getting bin bags and always with a constant cheery banter that I knew she needed.
The glazier arrived and put up a large piece of chipboard over the frame and promised to be back the following day. As I closed the front door I turned to find Jennifer standing very close to me.
“Thank you Jake,” she said and wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled her lithe young body close to me. I took her in my arms and held her close to me as she started to cry. She finally released the stress that had built up over the evening.
After a couple of minutes she looked up at me. Blotchy eyes and all she was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen.
I started to lean down towards her when the sound of tyres on the gravel drive acted like an electric shock, jolting us apart as her parents came home.
Her father was a large man in every sense. Big voice, big personality, big moustache, big frame. He filled the doorway as he walked in obviously in a high good humour after the show that they’d been to see.
That good humour drained away seeing me in the house with his daughter who looked like she’d been crying.
It took a considerable amount of persuasion and the appearance of the duty police officer doing a follow up visit to finally convince Mr Sawyer that I wasn’t the incarnation of evil who had set my sights on his precious daughter. Mrs Sawyer was equally surprised to see me but throughout all this she was strangely quiet.
As I was being ushered out of the house, with Jennifer kept some distance away from me, it was her mother who saw me out of the door.
She thanked me and then as I made to leave she grabbed my hand. Surprised, I turned and she said, “I must make it up to you Jake” in a husky voice that I don’t think anyone else heard. She let go of my hand before making me promise to come by soon. And was that some sort of blue thread that I saw trailing from her? I went to speak but she and it were gone.
I left the house and walked down the long drive. As I turned the corner onto the street I saw a pale face looking out of the curtains on the first floor watching me leave.
I climbed into Mr Davison’s mini and drove home carefully.
The next day was a blur.
I was up early to get to work and managed to dodge questions about where I went last night. I think that my parents were so focused on hating each other at the moment that the idea that I was out with friends on a Friday barely registered. It was a toxic environment and it had got worse over the last few months.
I couldn’t help but wonder what I could do to help my parents. Maybe get them to be honest with each other...? I needed to think about it. As a certified nerd I hadn’t had many opportunities to be around girls - last night about doubled my time spent talking to someone of the other sex that I wasn’t related to. Embarrassing but true. So relationship help wasn’t really a strong suit and I didn’t want to screw it up.
I borrowed my dad’s bike leaving the house with my ears ringing with the horrors that would be inflicted on me if it came back with so much as a scratch on it. He never used the damn thing so quite why he was so uptight about it I have no idea.
I made it to work on time and was immediately buried in the usual shifting of stock, helping customers and being the general dogsbody. But the staff there were fun and it was great to be around people that actually seemed to like me. I’d come out of my shell a bit in the last year or so and had started to be more myself while I was there. It was hard work but it was fun.
My supervisor was Nick. He was a short balding guy in his thirties. As far as I could tell his ambition was to bum his way through life doing as little as possible until his parents died and then live off the inheritance. He wasn’t a bad guy as such but not what you’d call a role model.
We were sitting on some boxes near the warehouse door after a busy afternoon working up a good sweat, when a voice called through from the door.
“Excuse me!”
I looked up and was surprised to see Mrs Sawyer. She had a receipt in her hand. Customers were often directed here if they needed help.
“Hi, Mrs Sawyer,” I said, “What can I do for you?”
“Ah Jake, yes please. I need these bags of manure lifting into the back of my car. And, I know that it’s not a service you normally offer but I was hoping that you could help me with them at my house too? It’s only a few minutes away and I could bring you back if you like.”
A wisp of blue around her again. What was that?
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