Chapter 8: Harmonic Vibrations

By this time, I was well on my way to understanding and harnessing a second effect of The Power. For some time, I had noticed that I could tell what people were feeling. No, this was not any form of mind reading - I have never been able to read anybody’s thoughts. But I can get a good feel for their emotions.

The best way of describing it is from something I learned in Physics last year. Mr. Wilson had described something called sympathetic or harmonic vibration. This is the effect caused when one vibrating object induces a similar vibration, in the same or a related frequency, in a separate object. For instance, a vibrating guitar string can cause a vibration in a different guitar string if they are both tuned to the same note, even though the second string may be at a different octave. He even described a case where a bridge designer had failed to take into account the wind, at the Tacoma Narrows. When the wind was just right, the suspension wires and bridge deck began to sway and vibrate, and ultimately tore the bridge down! He even had a copy of some very famous film footage of this happening! It was outrageously fascinating to see this huge suspension bridge twisting like a rubber band.

As soon as I noticed this effect, I understood what was happening. An individual’s emotions set up a ‘harmonic vibration’ in my own emotions, giving me a clear insight into that person’s feelings. While I couldn’t read their thoughts, I could feel their emotional state. Love, anger, greed, lust, hatred, - whatever - I could sense them, even if the person was poker-faced and unconscious.

I had first really noticed this when I was picking out a tax lawyer. Shortly after the New Year, my stockbroker asked me what I was going to do about taxes, since I had already made a fair bit of money by the end of the year. I was rather shocked to learn I needed to file taxes, but he explained that my income level certainly seemed enough that I couldn’t hide behind Mom’s skirts much longer. So, I got some names from him and interviewed a couple, getting a few more names in the process. I settled on a young lawyer only a few years out of law school, a junior associate at a large Atlanta firm, who didn’t have much experience, but had all the emotions I could ask for. He was ambitious, smart, honest, hungry - and in a vast surprise for me, was horny for me! Beneath his three-piece suit, the shyster was a flaming faggot who was seriously turned on by me. This took me back a bit, but while homosexuality doesn’t interest me, I don’t care about homosexuals. Most of the ones I’ve met over the years have been nice people, not much different than anybody else except in whom they sleep with. Since I had no tendencies in this area, the horny lawyer didn’t bother me in the slightest. I hired him and have never been sorry I did so.

My relationship with Jean was in many ways based on my reading of her harmonics. When we had first met and she had started flirting with me, I could sense some true interest, and simply used The Power to have her confirm it for me. Afterwards, I was very sparing of thinking commands to her, mainly being content to use it to get her to do something that I had already sensed she wanted to do. A case in point was a date we had a few weeks after Mom’s birthday bash.

It was a standard date; we were simply going down to the mall, for some pizza and a movie, then afterwards were going parking or whatever. I was wondering if now that my homestead was so liberal if I was going to be able to start bringing girls home and screw someplace more comfortable than the back seat of my car. Occasionally the positions could be hell on my bad knee. Everything started off fairly normal, but as we were driving away from Jean’s home, I got a definite buzz of dismay from her.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Why, nothing, what do you mean?” she said. I could tell she was lying, but not about what.

“I don’t know, just you had a look in your eye, like there was a problem. What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve got a run in my hose that I didn’t notice when I put them on, that’s all.” She angled her hips towards the door, letting me see the back of her legs, and sure enough, a small run ran up her left calf from ankle to the back of her knee. She was dressed nicely, if a bit plainly, in a cardigan sweater and denim mini-skirt, with two-inch heeled pumps (not too low, but not high enough to be called fuck-me shoes.)

“No sweat,” I announced. “We’ll simply stop in the mall and let you pick up a new pair. You can change in a dressing booth or someplace.”

Jean’s outlook brightened, especially after I thought, {I’ll pay, }to her. Jean’s family didn’t have much more money than we did pre-Power, so I knew she probably didn’t have money to pay her way tonight, not that I’ve ever asked a girl to go Dutch. She thought this was only fair but was always relieved when I paid for everything. Fortunately, she also seemed to believe that if a girl didn’t split the night’s costs, she should pay in another, more old-fashioned, way, and I heartily approved. Don’t get me wrong, though, Jean was not a gold-digger.

When we got inside the mall, Jean began to head for the local Walmart, but I steered her down the hallway to a Victoria’s Secret located near the food court. Jean was flabbergasted when I led her inside, but I simply told her that I wanted her to have something nice. She had gotten the run on a date with me, so it was really my fault, wasn’t it?

It was amusing to watch her reactions for the next several minutes. She nervously told a helpful clerk that, no, she didn’t need help, then asked where the pantyhose were. She scurried over to the display and began to anxiously look through them, nervous about both the prices, which she was quite unused to, and my presence, which she was equally unused to when trying on clothes. She would look over her shoulder at me every time she had picked a pair, at which I would shake my head negatively, as if to say, ‘not quite.’

Finally, she had worked her way through the rack and hadn’t found anything I approved of, so facing me, she asked, “Well, what then? You haven’t liked anything I’ve chosen.”

Taking her by the hand, I led her around the rack to the other side, where stockings and not hose were displayed. Jean’s eyes opened wide as she realized what she was seeing; she had about zero experience with fancy lingerie. “Why don’t you look over here,” I commented.

“Paul, I couldn’t!” she whispered in a shocked tone.

Gently, I put my hands on her hips and turned her back to the display. Stepping up behind her, I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Sure, you can. I want to see you in stockings. They’re so much sexier than pantyhose. I’ll know you’re wearing them, and I’ll get so hot for you. I’ll be looking forward to screwing you later while you’re wearing them. I can’t screw you when you wear pantyhose. You’ll make me so horny!” Meanwhile, I simply used The Power to send out subliminal feelings of relaxation and horniness, getting her in the mood, but not ordering her.

After a few minutes, Jean relented, and I let her pick out a pair of very sheer and long stockings. After I paid for them, she blushingly asked the clerk if she could change into them, since she had a run in the pair she was wearing. The clerk laughed and pointed towards the back, and I waited at the shop entrance for her to return.

Jean was still nervous but not too bad, as if she realized that despite her short skirt, nobody could see that she was the type of woman to wear stockings. She had a very prudish attitude at times, a real dichotomy from the way she acted in the back of the Taurus, Even with The Power I have never been able to understand women. I gave her a light kiss when she came up to me, and told her, truthfully, that she looked fantastic.

“God, I should hope so! I can’t believe what these cost!” she exclaimed.

“Well, then, you’d better not get a run in them. Otherwise, I’d simply have to make you take them off and go bare-legged.” Jean gave me a shocked look, and I got another idea. Sending out another wave of relaxation and horniness, I swiveled her away from me, to look into a mirrored post by the door of the store. Stepping up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her against me, rubbing my erection into her bottom. “You know...,” I whispered into her ear, “You’d really look hot without any underwear on. Why don’t you go down to the ladies’ room and take them off, too? Later, during the movie, I’ll be able to play with your tits and pussy without your bra and panties in the way.” This time, although she protested, she didn’t complain as much as if I had asked before the stocking episode, and I continued to send out waves of horniness to her.

“Maybe, but no promises,” she giggled. Hand in hand, we strolled down to the food court, but just before we got in line to order pizza, she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. She was gone about five minutes, during which time I engaged in the always enjoyable pastime of girl watching, with the bonus of sending out commands to the girls with boyfriends that they would be especially grateful this evening. I figure that this is my little way of increasing happiness in humanity.

Jean came back, self-consciously adjusting her purse over her shoulder. Jean’s breasts are a very firm thirty-eight B and she has very little jiggle to them, but I could tell that she was braless by the lack of strap marks under her sweater. “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” she murmured to me.

Surreptitiously I ran my hand down her back to her ass. I confirmed that she was indeed braless but couldn’t tell about the panties. She instantly knew what I was doing and squirmed away with a smiling but quiet, “Bastard!”

I grinned smugly and said lowly, “Just checking.”

During our meal, Jean kept her legs crossed tightly, although I considered it highly unlikely that anybody could have seen anything anyway. I kept my hands to myself for the next hour, until we got into the theater, although I was picking up heavy harmonics of lust from her. We settled into a pair of seats in the far rear, and I briefly used The Power to dissuade another couple from sitting next to us. I had a strong suspicion that I was going to find the movie a vast bore and was planning accordingly.

It took me about fifteen minutes to confirm my suspicions, so I decided to let my fingers do the walking to liven up the evening. First, I put my arm over my date’s shoulders, and as she snuggled up against me, lowered my hand to her chest. In the dark, lighted only by the screen and the flickering light over our heads, first I massaged her breasts through the sweater, then I moved my hand inside, to directly stimulate her breasts and nipples. Jean encouragingly brought her hand up to rub mine, so I leaned in to kiss her, bringing my other hand to pop a couple of buttons and play with both her tits. In short order, all thought of the movie had left her mind as we necked and petted in the dark.

After about twenty minutes of this I went to Phase Two. Straightening up, I pulled my arm from around her and brought it around front, letting it slide down until my hand was resting on her smoothly stockinged thigh. As she allowed her legs to separate, I slowly slid my fingers up the inside of her legs as far as I could reach under the denim, to the lacy elastic tops. Surprisingly, Jean cooperated by lifting her ass off the seat and tugging her skirt up, to allow me to keep going northward. For the rest of the movie, I slowly massaged her slit and clit as she silently moaned beside me. I used harmonics to tell me when she was getting close to orgasm, at which point I would back off a touch, to allow her to come down a bit, keeping her in constant suspense and arousal. By the time the credits were rolling she was rubbing my cock through my pants and humping back at my hand in a barely suppressed state of pre-orgasm!

As the lights came back on, I smoothly withdrew my fingers from her now dripping crotch and we stood to rearrange our clothing. “Care for something to eat?” I asked innocently.

Jean reached up and pulled me down by one ear. Furiously whispering, she said, “If you don’t take me somewhere and fuck me right now, I am going to simply scream!” I laughed and led her out of the mall.

Once in the car, I immediately proceeded to stuff my hand back into her cunt, at which point Jean simply began to moan loudly, slumping down into the seat. When I suggested she unbutton her sweater, she simply looked around for traffic, then dropped the seat back and unbuttoned her top, spreading it wide on her chest and pinching and rubbing her nipples as I pawed her twat. I was figuring on going parking when I saw something that gave me a better idea. Seeing a small Motel 6 type of place up ahead, I simply pulled in and parked. Jean was astonished when I got out and went inside, to return with a key. I had used The Power to get a room without ID (I paid!) I drove down to our room and got out. When I went around to open Jean’s door, she simply held her sweater over her chest until I got the room door open. Inside, she simply stripped it off, along with her skirt. When she went to take off her stockings and shoes, I simply told her to leave them on. “I want to fuck you just like that,” I told her. She crawled on top of the covers and watched me undress, spreading her legs to play with herself as she did. There was no need of additional foreplay; I simply crawled between her legs and fucked the living shit out of her!

As a side note, I began to use cheap motels often. While it is true that I have screwed women in every place imaginable, the fact of the matter is that the good Lord invented beds for a reason. They are always flat, comfortable, and convenient. Until I got my own place after college, the No-Tell Motel became a favorite friend.

My most exotic use of The Power with Jean came at the end of the school year. We continued dating (although I was getting a heavy and steady diet of fucking from Mom and Sue) and shortly before the school year was out, I took Jean to the Junior-Senior Prom. This was a big deal, although not as big as the Senior Prom, which was held in a night club and was formal. At least one member of the couple must be a junior or senior, although it was unusual for a girl to be dating someone who wasn’t at least in her own grade level, or higher. Lots of guys, especially juniors, dated sophomores. At the Junior-Senior Prom, seniors didn’t have to wear tuxes, only the juniors, and the dance was held in the school gym. Of course, only the guys wear the tuxes; their dates can wear anything they want, from miniskirt and blouse to a full formal evening gown. Most were dressed, if not formally, then at least in something considerably fancier than usual. Jean, for instance, was wearing a gold gown that she had been saving for since Christmas, with a very low-cut neck and back, and a slit up the back from ankle to very high up the thighs. I was in a rented tux, although mine had a vest and not a cummerbund.

I had used The Power prior to the date only to convince Jean to wear something spectacular, and I had thought to her parents the last time I saw them to let her stay out very late and not to hassle her over anything she might wear (or not wear - I had specifically spelled out {Stockings! No undies! High heels! Stockings! No undies! High heels!}repeatedly.) Truth be told, in a roomful of good-looking babes, Jean was stunning!

The real fun came after midnight, when a bunch of us when over to Larry’s house for a post-Prom party. His parents had conveniently decided to take off for the weekend (and no, I didn’t help them along - they were just naturally stupid!) and Larry set it up. Sue had gone to the Prom also, with her upper-class date, but had decided to take off with him and screw him silly in his dad’s Lincoln. So about eight or nine couples ended up in Larry’s living room, partying with his dad’s liquor cabinet. Now, I didn’t get tanked, but I did have a couple of beers and was feeling playful, so I simply thought, {Horny!}to everyone there. Shortly thereafter, couples began to sneak off to unoccupied rooms of the house to boff their brains out. After a bit the bedrooms and the den were all occupied, and I had had another beer, and decided to liven things up some more for the four couples left, including Jean and me.

{Horny! Now! Here!}

It started off calmly enough, with girls necking with their dates. I was in a large armchair with Jean in my lap, and she simply twisted around to face me and started to kiss me. I was enjoying this and slid my hand inside the low-cut V front of her dress, to tweak and fondle her painfully erect nipples. Despite the presence of the others with us, Jean simply moaned into my mouth and snuggled up closer for more. Around me I could hear the rustling of clothes and once a zipper coming down, and when I came up for breath, I took a look at my handiwork.

Billy Shaw and his date, Carrie Preston, were necking hot and heavy over in an armchair opposite us. He had her dress unzipped in the back and the straps of her bra were down so that he could suck on her tits, while one of his hands was well up her skirt. She in turn had reached inside his pants and was wanking him off. One the floor near the fireplace, Jake Eager had his girlfriend (I never did catch her name) laid out on the carpet, with her dress both up to and down to her waist, and he was doing much what Billy was doing - eating and fngerfucking. She was simply moaning in orgasm. Larry and Sheila had taken things a step farther. She had on a red stretchy minidress, which was now around her ankles, as she knelt topless on the floor between his legs. Larry’s pants were also around his ankles, and she was giving him the hummer to end hummers.