Chapter 1

I cannot even contemplate how many times I have wished for that secret gift, which would give me the power to manipulate people's minds. I cannot even imagine, I should be the only one to harbour such a wish.

I know all too well where this fantasy originates. You see, I am your 100% average man. Average looks, average brains, average height and in every way a man of average success. I hardly need to interpret to you, my dear reader, what that means.

Although I know that envy is one of the cardinal sins, I have to confess to it. Oh, my, do I have to confess. Those horrible teen-age years, when all the girls had their attention focused on the tall guys, the handsome guys, even the fresh and the rough ones, but never on young mister Average. That was the time I felt those pangs of envy for the first time. Or in college. When I watched the guys with brains and money skedaddle through it all. While I had to study hard to get my grades, they spent most of their time at parties and in different beds, and when graduation got closer they had picked the prettiest and sexiest of the girls. I got laid one lousy time, and that was only because the girl wanted to make a lost boyfriend jealous. He did not notice, and I got a lousy, pathetic lay. Envy.

Graduation, job, applying myself to a 'career' in a large corporation. Where the guys with charisma, with the easy-going charm, with the power to attract attention, stole all the promotions, and left me right in the middle of the pyramid, where nobody would notice me, as long as I filled my quota. Envy again.

As the unproductive envy slowly seeped out of me, it was replaced by a kind of reluctant acceptance. If this was the way it was going to be, I had better come to terms with it and get on with some kind of a life.

I met an average girl. Mary and I liked each other, got married, settled down in a fairly nice house, and within three years we had two average children. Our daily life was a comfortable routine, and our love life was fairly satisfactory, though not very spectacular.

That was the time when the fantasies started. First I toyed a little with the idea of mind reading, but after some time I had to admit, that I probably would not like to know what other people thought of me. Then I read some books and short stories where mind-control was part of the plot. The idea appealed to me, and for a couple of years I liked to spend a little time, just before falling asleep, choosing a person and then imagine, what I should like to do to his or her mind. Great fun. Eventually my imagination dried up, and for a short period the fantasies became more like a sleeping pill because of the repetitions, and I forgot about it.

Years later I became quite absorbed by the different ideas of the afterlife. Suffice it to say, that one evening I visited a spiritist 'temple' in Copenhagen, and the medium brought me messages from my deceased father. This was the first time I visited the place, so he could not know who I was, but anyway he told me details about looks, nicknames, family events etc. that were so precise, they had to come 'from the source'. I was convinced. Days later I contacted this medium in order to learn, if I could 'receive' in the same way. I was told that it might be possible, given the circumstances, because a person 'from the other side', was trying to contact me. He set up a program of meditation and training of my mind, to open up to messages which were there, but which were unknown to most people. Eureka. In only three months I received the first flashes of insight, and one month later I would have short conversations with my father, who had died when I was only 10. For fear of ridicule I kept all this a deep secret, not even my wife knew anything, and for the first time I had some use of my very average position in the company pyramid: I could spend all my mental power on this project, with no harm done to my so-called career.

From our 'conversations' I learned, that my father's wish to make contact, was very strong. He felt, that by getting himself killed in a stupid, self-inflicted accident, he had been a major contributor to my utterly average life, not being there in my formative years to enhance my confidence and courage, and he had a strong wish to 'do something' for me. Alas, it was much too late to make any fundamental changes to my life, but when I 'told' him about my fantasies of mind control, he became very enthusiastic. That was a field where he could do something for me, although he warned me: To gain full control would take a long time, but limited attempts might bring bits of sunlight into my dull life, while I struggled to gain full control.

First he taught me to go through the same mental training I had had, while I attempted to receive messages from 'the other side', only this time reversed: I was to send out 'messages' of my own. As soon as he felt that I had reached some kind of proficiency in this field, he set out to teach me how to execute my first attempts in mind control. As a beginner I should need skin contact with the person I wanted to influence. Then I was taught how to form images in my mind, which I could transfer to the 'victim' and then later connect to different centres of emotion.

I started out with my wife, who was the easiest person to achieve skin contact with. I transferred an image of myself to her, which I later connected to the emotions she would have in her abdomen, so that all the many times every day, when sex crossed her mind, it would be connected to my image. The result was evident in only two days. She became much more focused on me, and for the first time in years she took the initiative in bed. A week later I planted the image of my lips and tongue on her cunt, and connected it to her clitoris, and in just a few days she straddled my face and demanded to be licked out. That was an absolute first. My confidence grew, and I was ecstatic when I was met with absolute success, gaining access to her ass for my finger and my cock. At this time my father advised me to take my new skill 'to town'.

On his advice I transferred an image of hardworking me to my wife, in order to assure peace on the home front, should I stay out late, and I decided that Jannie should be my first target. She is a luscious redhead who often visits a café, where I like to listen to jazz, but she is 16 years my junior, and although we will hug in a friendly way when we meet, she has never shown any sexual interest. But I sure have lusted for her! Fortunately my wife is no jazz fan, and over the years she has got used to my going there about twice a month.

The next jazz evening I transferred my image to Jannie, and made connections to her abdomen, vagina and clit. All this was done in the few seconds we hugged, cheek to cheek, and then I went to the bar and bought my first beer. Later I sat down at another table, only to be joined by Jannie during the second intermission. We danced a few dances, and when the band played their version of 'Take The A-Train', Jannie asked if I'd like to hear the original recording - at her place, of course. I knew she lived only 3 minutes walk from the café, and before the band had finished their gig, we were on our way.