The phone rang and I untangled myself from the two hard bodied honeys passed out on my bed.

"Hello?"

"Sammy? Its Paul."

It was a photographer I had a certain understanding with.

"What's up, Paul?"

"Got a shoot on Thursday and I'll need some help, you available?"

"Sure, I can do it. What time?"

"Be here by nine."

"See you then."

Before going any further, perhaps I should introduce myself.

My name is Samuel Oliver Latimer and up until a year and a half ago my initials doubled as my lot in life (you know, SOL, Shit Outta Luck). I was the type of person success actively eluded. No matter how hard I worked something always happened to screw things up. Hell... I couldn't even get a date the entire time I was in high school.

I wasn't ugly; I was just perpetually humiliated - by accidents, by bad decisions and by assholes. Every girl I approached either remembered me as 'that guy who fell down and shit his pants' (I had diarrhea and had to go really bad, so I wasn't paying attention, slipped on some ice and blacked out for a few moments, when I came to I had let everything go) or 'the kid who threw up on stage during the glee club's presentation of We Are the World' (I was really nervous and Bobby Clark told me a few swigs of this stuff he had in a bottle would calm me down - it was Everclear and I drank quite a bit) or they simply knew me as the amazing He/She (In my freshman yearbook, my picture and Sandy Jenkin's picture had been superimposed on each other; nobody fucked with her, she was cute and popular, but I got a nickname that stuck.)

Those three particular items were just the tip of the iceberg. But I'm sure you get the point. If it was disastrous, stupid or embarrassing - it found me.

Finally, one day - about two years out of high school - I was ready to cash it all in. In twenty-five months I had been through eight jobs. I always caught on fast, got great evaluations and then something would happen. Shit... it's not worth going into.

There I was, about to turn twenty-one and I couldn't hold a job; pay rent or even talk to a girl. All the other guys my age had plenty of experience in the female department but I hadn't even been to first base yet. Whenever I tried talking to a girl I got very nervous and tongue-tied and invariably something incredibly stupid would come out.

So I found myself, one particularly cool yet sunny Saturday afternoon, sitting on a park bench watching the world go by and thinking about the gun in my jacket pocket. It was cheap and I wondered if it would work. Since I had been the one who bought it, I figured it probably wouldn't. I really hoped it would.

That was when I noticed the old man sitting across the path staring at me. He saw me look up at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?"

"Wha... What are you talking about?"

"Jaysus H. Christ, boy, your life has barely got going and you're ready to end it?"

"How?... Ah what the hell do you know?"

"I know you got a lot of living ahead of you. You don't want to do this."

"Yeah? Well if what I got I got ahead of me is anything like what's behind me then you aren't making much of a case."

The old man's eyes sort of glazed over and he adopted what some call a 'thousand yard stare.' I felt a tingle in my head, almost like my brain had an itch. I've heard that before you die you life will flash before your eyes. That is the best description of what happened to me at that moment. In a flash I remembered everything. Then he was looking at me again.

His eyes were friendlier now.

"I've been looking for you for a long time, son - someone whose life is more pathetic than mine used to be."

"You're not helping"

"Not yet..." he said with a smile, "but I will."

Then he came over and sat beside me. I wondered if he was gay or something.

"You ever wish you could just make everything go your way? Ever wish folks would just do what you wanted? Wish girls were easy to get?"

"Right now I wish you would leave me alone."

"No, son, you do not wish that. I can offer you something that will make all the difference. Something that will completely change your life."

That tingling feeling in my brain returned and suddenly it felt like something snapped and a feeling, much like a spill of hot water, spread throughout my skull. I was dizzy and disoriented for several minutes. When the feeling passed I looked up and saw the old man looking at me with an amused glint in his eye.

"What the fuck did you do to me?"

"I simply released the full potential of your mind."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He looked around a bit.

"You see that guy over there? That's it, the one walking the dog. Concentrate on him and think the words, 'sit down' almost like you are saying them... but don't use your voice."

"What are you, some kind of nut-job? I'm not gonna think at some guy."

"Then watch." He looked at the man and the man sat down, right on the sidewalk. He sat there for a few seconds and then stood up looking around sheepishly and somewhat confused.

I was stunned. "Did you really..." Words failed me.

"Yes I did," he chuckled, "and you can too."

I felt a rush of adrenaline as I picked another subject, a man standing on the small bridge watching the river flow lazily below.

He too, sat down for a few seconds, then got up and walked away brushing the dust off his pants and muttering.

It was amazing.

I then began training with Charlie (the old man). It took about 8 months for him to teach me everything he knew about using the power. With it I could do anything from a momentary suggestion like making the guy on the bridge sit down, which was handy in getting folks out of my way while walking or driving; to a complete reprogramming of someone's mind making me, or anything else, the center of their world - a process I didn't much care for. It was really the in between stuff that was the most useful.

I used the power to become a 'consultant' to various businesses. One visit to their headquarters and they wrote me monthly checks with the CEO's and other executives always remembering the valuable service I rendered.

I primarily used the power for fun.

And... yes... it is a LOT of fun. Why do you think I was waking up sandwiched between two incredibly hot young women?

Two hot women...

A quick mental suggestion and they were awake. One snuggled up to me and was kissing and nuzzling my neck and pressing her firm tits against me while the other worked on coaxing a nice hot load of morning cum out of my hard cock.

Twenty minutes later I started my day.

Thursday:

I pulled up to Paul's studio just before nine.

I didn't know whom Paul was shooting today but I knew I was going to like it. He had a list of women I was interested in and only called me when one of them was scheduled for a shoot.

Paul was one of the premier photographers for the pornography industry. I had given him my list about a year ago.

While I could have any woman I wanted - and did - I had an interest in certain porn stars that made up the list I had given Paul.

She was already there and my cock started getting hard almost immediately. Tall and blonde, large tits, narrow waist and beautiful round butt - she was number one on my list.

I won't tell you her name but if you indulged in any porn on the past few years you would likely recognize her. Her genre of porn was either solo or lesbian. Rumor had it she had never been with a man on or off the screen. I considered that rumor confirmed by the look she gave me as I walked in.

"Hey," she exclaimed turning to Paul, "I told you that any assistants for this shoot had to be female."

"Now, my dear" soothed Paul, "let's be professionals about this. Sam is one of the best assistants I have."

"Let's just get this over with." She said dismissively. I sensed a real hatred for men. I don't know of it was because of something a man did or if she had that type of upbringing, frankly I wasn't inclined to find out. She was willing to go along with it because she knew Paul's spreads were a highlight in any porn star's portfolio.

I began setting the lights and going over the set with Paul as she went into the dressing room to get ready.

When she came out she was wearing a dark gray mid-thigh length skirt over well-shaped legs encased in sheer stockings, a white blouse and a short lapelled jacket that matched the skirt. Three-inch heels added shape to her legs and butt. Her hair was up and she had on a pair of fake glasses. A blue scarf around her neck added a splash of color to the ensemble. She looked like a secretary out of a wet dream.

She familiarized herself with the set. It was made to look like a receptionist area. An L-shaped desk held a computer and other office paraphernalia. A large leather swivel chair happily accepted her lovely ass.

Paul directed the setting of the lights and then began taking shots. He went through almost a whole roll with her doing various things fully clothed. At first, she appeared to be working then she was looking at the camera with seductive looks and poses.

Click, click went Paul's camera.

"OK, lets see some skin." Paul instructed.

This is where I took over. The blonde bombshell suddenly believed that it was the assistant's job to adjust the clothing. She, being the subject, shouldn't mess with anything since I (being the trained assistant) knew exactly what the photographer was looking for. She also believed that it was the job of the assistant to try and excite the subject so the erotic and seductive poses would have a more realistic look. She now thought that this was why she had been dismayed to find a male assistant present.

She sat in the large chair and I ran my hands up one of her legs, stopping as I slid her skirt up just over the top of her stocking to reveal the snap of a black garter. She was a professional and didn't physically recoil at my touch - though she wanted to.

Click, click.

Paul took a few shots and I moved in untying the scarf and draping it loosely over her neck, brushing her tits with the back of my hand as I smoothed it down her chest. I caught a strong sentiment of 'just like all the other pigs' coming from her, though to look at her you never would have known it.