If I had to say one thing about Delta Iota Kappa (and most people wouldn’t bother), it’s that they absolutely suck at throwing parties. We were three weeks into the school year, time for their “back to school bash”, and this one was shaping up to be more of a dud than usual.

It was a run of the mill frat party, at best. An oversized set of bargain bin speakers belted out generic dance music off of the “DJ’s” secondhand macbook. A lot of thumping base, and fuck all in terms of any actual music. A small group of girls had started dancing in the center of the room, but their expressions looked forced. More determined to have fun than actually having a good time. Around them, a bunch of overdressed and overly desperate underclassmen milled about, mostly centered around the kegs and their hopes of a cheap buzz.

I sniffed at my untouched cup and wrinkled my lips. Cheap was right. How the hell did they get get away with calling this stuff beer? It was a good thing that these freshmen didn’t know enough to be picky, or the crowd would be even lighter.

In short, this party was lame. Luckily for them, somebody (read: me) had decided to fix that.

“What the hell man, I thought you said this was going to be the best party ever.”

That was Kevin, my longtime best buddy and occasional partner in mischief.

“Give it time.”

“You’ve got something nefarious planned, don’t you.”

“Nefarious? Me? Would I ever do something like that?”

He chose to ignore my protests.

“Do our generous hosts know about this plan of yours?” he asked, pointing towards the uninspiring group of frat brothers by the sound system.

“A good magician never reveals his secrets,” I said. Maybe a bit too smugly, but Kev was asking for it.

“True, but what’s that got to do with you?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Fine,” I said, “Since I’m telling one person - you - about it, let’s just say I’m a decent magician.”

He gave me a flat stare.

“Well, I’m ok.”

We made our way over to the punch bowl, and what passed as the party’s bar, the only part of the house that even remotely passed as crowded. There was more than a little complaining, people muttering about how much this party blew, saying they ought to go find somewhere else. Funny thing, though, not a one of them actually left.

Complaining or not, they all stayed.

A group of awkward looking girls milled next to the speaker holding half empty cups of beer, or maybe it was runny goat vomit, I couldn’t tell the difference. They kept going on about how much fun they were having, each louder and more insincere than the last. In between bragging about how much fun they weren’t having, the girls were packed tight into their own little circle gossiping about some boring class they shared. Yawn! I almost felt sorry for them.

Really, they ought to be thanking me for what I was doing tonight. I mean, did any of them really want to spend another boring night huddled together pretending that they were actually having fun? No, of course not. My plans were so much better.

Kevin stopped beside one of the girls, a lanky girl whose dress would have better suited someone whose bra was just a few sizes larger. There was a mix of confusion and outrage as he laid his hand on her arm, but in less than a second her face went blank. I watched, smirking, as her chest began to inflate.

“So how long until she notices?” I asked once they had blossomed into a nice heavy pair of double Ds.

“I figured a half hour or so should do,” he said

“Just in time.”

“Right. For this mysterious plan of yours,” Kevin rolled his eyes as his hand brushed up against the next girl in the circle, a stacked blonde who had blown right past the freshman fifteen and was going for thirty.

Before my eyes, her pudge shrank away into a slender hourglass that showed off her wide hips to best effect. Her once bulging dress drew tight about her tiny waist as it slimmed down with the rest of her, and before I knew it the low hemline was showing off a pair of toned calves in their fullest perfection.

Body control, right. That had always been Kevin’s thing. Just one touch, and he could mold a person’s body to just about anything he wanted. Not permanent, so far as I could tell. He always grew cagey whenever I asked. Regardless, it was a pretty slick Talent. By this time tomorrow, everyone he touched would be normal again. That girl, I’d bet, would be sad to see it wear off, but with luck it would motivate her to get back in shape. So far as I could tell, Kev hadn’t done more than slim her down a bit (ok, a lot). With some effort, she could really be a looker.

Sometimes I envied how quick and direct Kevin’s Gift was. Just one touch and poof, they were changed. Mine was a bit more subtle, and a whole lot slower, but that didn’t stop me from having fun with it.

The two of us had been friends ever since we were little kids. It was only to be expected, after all, considering the secret our two families shared. Powers. Calling them ‘super’ powers would have been an exaggeration, but we still had abilities above and beyond what normal humans could do. No one knows why, or where they come from. It’s been called many different things throughout history. Magic, a gift from the gods, super powers. Shamans, witches, wizards, all sorts of names people have had for those with the gift. The names changed, but the truth stayed the same.

I wonder, sometimes, if the first comic book publishers knew about us. The old stories are a lot closer, in some ways, to what we actually are. Especially compared to modern superheroes. Did you know that Superman, in his first appearance, was just a really strong guy who could jump pretty far? No flying yet, and certainly no circling the globe so fast he reverses time itself. Just a big, strong, especially fast guy. An exaggeration, but not so very far from the actual truth.

Who knows how many of us there are in the world. Thousands, definitely, maybe a few tens of thousands. A hundred or so thousand at the most. Not a tiny number, but vanishingly small spread out across the world. Normies were a lot less superstitious these days, but we still kept to ourselves. Mostly.

Even if people did notice, who’d believe them? For once, tabloid trash was our best friend. For every person caught using their Gift, there were hundreds of delusional cranks complaining that Bigfoot stole a slice of toast with Moses’s face on it.

Made pranking a whole lot easier, let me tell you.

“See,” I said, nudging Kevin as he finished tweaking the last of the group, who’d been a smoking hot babe even before he got his hands on her.

“I told you it was about to get started,” I told him as I motioned towards the door.

Another group of girls walked in, all dressed up for a night out. They frowned as their eyes took in the part and came to the same conclusion Kevin had. Except, they didn’t turn around and walk out any more than the group next to us had. The alpha bitch told her friends that they were only staying until they figured out “where it was happening”, but I just chuckled at her words.

Don’t worry, ladies. No need to go any further. Here is definitely where it would be ‘happening’ tonight.

Two more groups followed shortly. Mixed groups this time, but much better than the boring sausage fest it had been twenty minutes ago.

“So you are doing something.”

“Naturally,” I smirked.

“That’s great,” he told me, “but they aren’t any better than that last group. And before you ask- no, I’m not going to run around fixing them for you all night.”

“No worries, we’re just getting started here. Things are gonna heat up with or without you.”

“Oh god, it’s another orgy, isn’t it.”

“The biggest in campus history!”

“Man, we have got to get you a new hobby.”

“Come on,” I told him, “It’s going to be great. Just look at them. They have no idea, but give it another thirty, forty minutes, and the clothes will start flying.”

Yeah, my gift might be subtle, and slower than the last fifteen minutes of chem class, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. At least, anything that didn’t have the same fun potential.

You see, I have the enviable and oh so enjoyable ability to influence minds. Not individual ones, unfortunately. Cool though it would be, I couldn’t just look at a person and tell them what to think. My power worked over areas and groups. So sure, I couldn’t just look at a girl and force her to strip, but give me thirty minutes and a full bar, and I’d have a pack of eager strippers dancing around the room.

Or, as it happened today, a full frat house. More specifically, I had infused the house and the surrounding block with four distinct suggestions:

One: They HAD to be at this party. No matter how much evidence to the contrary, the knew that sooner or later this was going to turn into an absolutely wild party, the best they’d ever seen.

Two (this one was directed at the girls only): They would enjoy the party more if they were naked.

Three: They were horny, real horny. More specifically, the longer they stayed the more they wanted to hook up with any and all members of the opposite sex. (ok, so I might have made this one a bit stronger for the girls, but I’m sure the guys won’t have any trouble playing their part once it gets going)

Four: When all was done and over with, they would come away thinking they had a great time and not question why or how. Oh, and also make sure their birth control is up to date. I wanted this to be a fun party, not a “here’s eighteen years of child support” sort of event.

Four simple commands, laid out over the course of a night. Now all I had to do was sit back and wait for them to sink in, then things would really get hopping.

“You have fun with that,” Kevin said, shaking my hand.

“Hold up, you’re not leaving, are you? Come on, man, it’ll be a blast.”

“Don’t you ever get sick of these little pranks? Maybe some of us just want a quiet night in.”

“Don’t even joke about that. He who is sick of orgies is sick of life,” I quoted. Probably. I think it was a quote from somebody. Myself, at the very least. We’d had this discussion before, and I’d always won out.

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes, “maybe I’ll stop by later once things get going.”

“That’s more like it,” I reached up to clap him on the back, “Leave me to do all the hard work while you skip straight to the big finish.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have lots of HARD work ahead of you tonight. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“Nah,” I told him, waving it off, “Already laid down most of the suggestions, just need to kick back and let them work.”

He laughed at that for some reason.

“Yeah, that too,” he said. I cocked my head quizzically, but he wouldn’t explain further.

“Well, catch you later, then.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, still smirking for who some infuriating reason he had no intention of sharing with me. “I’ll be back. Would hate to miss the ‘big finish’.”

With him gone, there was little left for me to do but observe my handiwork. The dance floor was getting crowded now, with babes pulled in every time they walked past and almost nobody flowing back out the door. Watching them dance, I could see that my other suggestions were taking root as well. In the center, one of the more adventurous girls let out a wild whoop as she pulled off her shirt and started spinning it around her head. Some of the newcomers looked shocked by her display, but within five minutes the rest of her group was dancing around in just their bras.

Off in the dimly lit corners, I could see an entirely different form of action going down. It started with the couples. Here for a good time and finding themselves more than a little turned on by my suggestions, it didn’t take long before they were ready to get a little bit of privacy. Course, they had a hard time doing that without leaving the party. Next best thing: a quiet corner to make out. Judging by the way the clothes kept peeling off, I’m pretty sure that would become “a quiet corner to fuck” before long.

The scrawny fratboy who’d been playing DJ was mobbed by a crowd of girls looking to hear their favorite songs. The competition was fierce, and didn’t end until one of them dropped to her knees and started blowing him. Didn’t take long at all before her song was playing. Of course, by the time that happened she was turned on enough to enjoy the blowjob for its own sake. I chuckled as she started hiking up her dress to cram her fingers up her twat. I watched with more than a little interest as her mouth bobbed up and down all over his spit slickened cock.

Speaking of which, I was about ready to get in on the action myself. There were tons of absolute hotties out there ripe for the taking, and I was getting turned on just looking at them. The plan had been to wait a bit and watch how things developed, but fuck it, I was ready to get in on the action myself.

I set my eyes on one absolutely stunning brunette swaying to the beat at the edges of the dance floor. She was still wearing a thin white tank top, but considering how easily her bra showed through it, I’d bet it started the night as just an undershirt. The babe was tall for a chick, taller than me, even, but I didn’t mind too much. Her boobs were a lot bigger than I’d expected too, so big my hands could barely fit around them.

“Heya hot stuff. Havin a good time tonight?”

She looked down like I was a waiter who’d just served her a half eaten sandwich covered in mold. An ugly mixture of disdain, disappointment, displeasure, and various other not so great things that start with the letter d. Her hands slapped mine away, and she literally turned to give me a cold shoulder.

What the hell? If she was already going enough to start pulling clothes off, she should have been more than happy to let me cop a quick feel, if not try for something more. Whatever, must not have had time to soak in the suggestions. Open minded enough to play along when everyone else started stripping, but not enough to let a guy grab an innocent handful of tit.

Selfish.

I’d have to remind myself to swing by later, once she’d had time to grow a little more accommodating. Maybe she’d started tonight as a lesbian? That would explain why she’d been here enough to start stripping, but still refused me. She just wasn’t into guys. Not yet anyway.

Sorry, lady. I like the sight of two chicks going at it as much as anyone, but that wasn’t the sort of party I was running here. Not when it limited my own options. I decided to crank up the suggestion a little, emphasizing the part where the chicks were supposed to be horny for guys.

The last thing I wanted was to derail the growing party by making a scene, so I wandered over beside a big group of girls dancing near the center. These ones had clearly been under the influence for a while now. Each and every one of them had pulled off her shirt, at the very least. Two of them had done away with clothes altogether.

They made way for me as I entered their circle. No surprise there. By now, these hotties should be ready and eager for some male attention.

We started dancing, and before long I maneuvered behind her for a little bump and grind. Mostly grind, for now, but I had a lot more “bump” planned for later. She stiffened slightly as I reached back and unclasped her bra, but by the time it was off she was laughing and dancing again. Her boobs weren’t quite as big as the brunette, but they still felt good in my hand.

Fuck it, though. I was still horny as hell, and nice as a handful of tit was, that’s not why I came here. My hands slid lower, down to the waistline of her skirt. My fingers hooked under the elastic band, but for some reason she stopped dancing and pushed them away.

“Hey,” she said, turning to me. “It’s cool if you dance with us, but don’t make this weird, ok?”

What the hell, man! These girls should have been worked up and raring to go. I’d seen more than one get pulled away by some guy looking to get a hot lay. Had I just chosen the one ice queen in the entire group? She’d seemed pretty into the whole thing before.

Taking a chance, I moved in to kiss her, only to have her pull away.

“Ok?” she repeated impatiently.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” I told her, slinking away in defeat.

What was going wrong? I’d pumped this place full of enough emotion to turn even the shyest bookworm into a raving nympho. Worse, I’d been sitting down for no more than a minute or two before some guy came and pulled her off to the side. Before long she was on his lap giggling away while he felt her up. Seriously, what the hell! Just a minute ago she’d been all “don’t get weird”, and now she was jamming her tongue down some guy’s throat while he fingerbanged her in the middle of the room?

I mean, yeah, he was pretty damned hot - for a guy, at least - but that didn’t explain why she’d been so cold with me.

Fuck it, I told myself, there was nothing to be done about it. Screw her anyway. I knew my suggestions worked. All I had to do was stand up, smooth out my skirt, and go find some other target.

“Great party, huh?” someone asked.

Startled, I bumped straight into him as I turned around, and realized that he had been talking to me. Tall bastard, too. He loomed over me, and even though he was smiling, there was something in his expression that bugged me.

Still, he at least had the good taste to recognize that this had (thanks to me) turned into a damned good party. Now maybe he should leave me alone and go enjoy it.

I told him as much.

“I’m enjoying it very much,” he said, “but I wouldn’t say no to a little companionship either.”

His hand came to rest on my upper arm, and I realized that he was still standing way too close for comfort. He smiled reassuringly and rubbed my arm softly. He had a nice smile, I bet the ladies would eat it up once he-

Hold on a second. Was ... was he hitting on me?

Fucking hell! Not that there was anything wrong with that, but I’d just gone through the trouble of laying out the world’s greatest smorgasbord of femininity for him, and this jackass had to come over and hit on ME? The worst part was, the asshole was actually pretty damned handsome. Like, absolutely gorgeous, movie star sort of handsome. Even without my little influence, he would have had women fawning all over him. But no, he had to try and work his game on me instead.

“Look,” I told him, “I don’t swing that way.”

He didn’t let up.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right guy yet,” he said, his hand stroking its way up my shoulder.

Yeah, fuck that. He protested when I broke the grip, but didn’t follow me through the crowd. The orgy was really starting to get going, with warm, sweaty bodies writhing together throughout the room. Still dancing, for the most part, but now they were naked as often than not, and their dances little more than a hot and heavy grind.