Yes, I'm that guy. Yes, I can control other people's thoughts and actions - been able to since I was about thirteen. Let me tell you though: It's not all it's cracked up to be.

Think about it. Sure, I don't get picked on by the jerks in school, at least, not since that cafeteria incident in my freshman year, but deep down, I'm really a nice guy. At least, I think I'm a nice guy. I want to be a nice guy. I also want other people to think of me as a nice guy.

Problem is, even my so-called friends think of me as a freak. Hell, my parents think of me as a freak. Even my girlfriend thinks I'm a freak. Of course, she thinks of herself as a freak, too, so in her mind, at least, it has positive connotations.

So, why can't I be a nice freak? Well, in most cases, I am. I don't go in and root around in people's heads unless they invite me to (a very rare occurrence) or they're doing something really bad and it seems necessary to stop them. Like I said; I'm nice. Most people, though, fear what they don't understand, and it really doesn't matter whether I use this 'gift' to help them or hurt them. Just the fact that I have it makes me someone to fear.

How do I know all this if I don't read people's minds? Well, duh! All of you - every last one - broadcast your thoughts all over the place. Why shouldn't you? Hell, as far as I know, I'm the only one who can hear them, so there's no reason you should have developed the ability to keep from broadcasting. It can be done. I know, because I can do it, but those of you who can't hear other people thinking would never know whether it was working or not, so how could you learn?

I wish you could, frankly. It's really hard to like people who keep telling you you're a freak with their thoughts while their mouths are making friendly noises. Over time, I learned that that's what separates the nice people from the jerks. The nice people filter what's in their minds so that it doesn't all come out their mouths. They do it to keep from hurting your feelings. The jerks just don't bother. The snakes are the ones who say nice things while plotting to do mean things. I hate them worse than the jerks.

But, okay, that's life in the real world. I once tried just chucking it all and going to live in the woods, thinking I'd find some peace there. That lasted about an hour. The creatures who live in the woods fell into only two categories: Those to whom I smelled, sounded, or looked like something that wanted to eat them, and those to whom I smelled like something to eat. In case you're wondering, that's not real conducive to feelings of peace, tranquility and oneness with nature.

So, I put up with people. I mean, I'm resigned to being a freak. Over time, I think I have begun to convince some people that I mean no harm to people who don't fuck with me. I mean that in the metaphorical sense, by the way. Those who actually dare to fuck with me, in a sexual way, soon find that there are benefits that non-freaks can't provide.

I'm not just talking about Becky, either. I mean, sure, she really gets off on what I do for her, but then, she's kind of a freak, too. Every now and then, though, I run into someone who, when they find out that I can do this stuff, gets turned on by the possibilities.

Now, I don't want you to think I go looking for people like that. Hell, before this ability made itself known, I was a virgin, and so naive, it's painful to even think about it now. I can't tell you what a shock it was the first time a girl started fantasizing about what I could make her do in the bedroom - or anywhere else, for that matter.

Naturally, I helped her find out ... But I digress. Yeah, it was a shock. A nice one, but a shock nonetheless. If I thought that was a shock, I was in for another the first time a guy did it! That's right. Gender doesn't raise any barriers for freaks, I was to find out. Neither does age. See, that first guy was one of my teachers. He didn't really fantasize about having sex with me so much as the kinds of sex I'd force him to have with other men.

Yeah, I know, but he got so turned on thinking about it, that I did too. I gave him his wish.

Oh, no! Not you, too! Oh, I see. You want to hear about it. Well, like I said, I'm a nice guy, so I'll tell you about a couple of the encounters I've had. Sorry, no, I don't do drugs and there's no booze in the house. There's cola in the fridge if you want to help yourself.

Okay, well, I can see you're bi-curious ... Don't worry, I'm not prying. Like I said before, you broadcast. You got real excited when I talked about doing stuff to a girl, and you got just as hot when I talked about doing it to a guy, so no worries. I have to put up with this shit from everybody. I wish I could block it out, but it comes with the territory.

So, anyway, that first girl - I was a freshman and she was a senior. She'd already been with a couple of guys and thought well enough of sex that she wanted to do it some more, but she wanted something that the boys she dated couldn't give her. Now, picture this: Prom Queen, Cheerleader, BWOC, extremely popular, kneeling nude in a public park, in broad daylight, throating what she thought was a huge cock, with people walking past, ignoring her.

Now mind you, I've been reasonably well blessed in the equipment department, but in her mind, I was horse-sized, because that's the image and the sensation I gave her. She thought she had eighteen inches of cock down her throat. Oh I made it as realistic as I could: Her throat felt like it was stretched to the limit, and her jaws ached. I left enough of her gag reflex to make it real, but never let her hurl.

See, it all started after the cafeteria incident. This jerk on the football team was bothering her and she kept telling him to leave her alone. I kinda figured it was between the two of them, so I stayed out of it until he drew back his fist and punched her - or tried to. I stopped him with his fist about an inch from her face, then I got up in his face and told him to back off. I should have realized that he was too mad and scared to listen to reason, but I was new at this stuff, and thought I was being a hero.

Anyway, when he tried to turn those fists against me, I threw him up against the wall - without touching him - and held him there. What? No, I'm not telekinetic, but I can make a person's body do things like that to itself. So maybe it would be more accurate to say that I made him throw himself against the wall, and made his muscles keep him there.

Pissed? Yeah he was pissed, but he was scared, too. Problem was, so was everybody else. Anyway, a teacher finally showed up and I figured I could let him go without getting punched. I played innocent when asked what I had done. Since nobody had seen me touch him, it kept me out of detention, but it didn't keep everybody from backing away whenever I got close to them. But you wanted to hear about the sex.

After school, Kathy, that was the girl's name, was waiting for me. She was a little scared, too, but had more reason than the others to think I wouldn't hurt her, since I had kept the football guy from punching her. Long story short, she wanted to know how I had done that, and like an idiot, I told her. Hell, it was the first time anyone like that had even noticed me, much less talked to me, so give me a break. She seemed nice enough - at least she wasn't plotting evil while lying to me about being scared. The more she learned about what I could do, though, the more excited she got. At first, I didn't know what to make of what she was throwing off, but after a while, I started getting images like those in the dirty magazines my friends and I filched from parents and older siblings.

That was the moment I lost my virginity. No, not physically, but after the impact of that realization, the physical act seemed a little anti-climactic. When I mentioned what I was picking up from her, she got all embarrassed and tried to deny it, but I had already told her about the broadcasting thing. I let her stew for a few minutes while the possibility of the fantasy becoming reality grew on her. Okay, it also gave me time to get used to the idea that I had something she wanted, and work up the courage to offer it.

Finally, I told her to meet me in the park at noon on Saturday. Her mouth refused, but her mind had already decided to go.

She was a little late, but I had expected it to take a little time for her to work up the determination to go through with it. I was sitting on a bench, and there were people everywhere, but she was the only one who could see me, and when she got close, I made them stop seeing her, too. She didn't know that, of course. Public exposure and humiliation were part of her fantasy.

As she sat on the bench beside me, I asked her, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head, then as if the word was torn from throat, she answered, "Yes!"

"I don't like screwing around with people's heads, Kathy," I tried to tell her, but her desire was just too strong.

Thinking back, I think she suspected that it was dangerous - not so much physically as emotionally. Those thoughts and feelings, though, were buried too deep to be part of her broadcast, and I didn't really know enough about human nature at that time.

Using the same sort of muscle control I had with the jerk in the cafeteria, I made her strip, right there in the park, and pull out my cock. She knew what was happening, and fought against it with all of her might, to no avail. I didn't know about safe-signals then. I was just intent on fulfilling her fantasy, and mine. As far as I was concerned, she had consented to anything I did to her by showing up. I didn't realize just how realistic the scenario seemed to her.

Anyway, so there I was, fucking the cheerleader and prom Queen in the middle of a crowded park. She was scared, but she was hotter than a two-dollar pistol, too. When I came down her throat, I made it feel like I was pumping a lot of cum straight into her belly. She came. God, did she come. I didn't realize that raw emotion could cause an orgasm without physical stimulation, but it did. I didn't even know, then, that I could have been stimulating her while I was giving her the mental fantasy, but it didn't matter. People near us looked around for the source of the noise she made around my cock, but still couldn't see us.

Kathy, depleted, fell to the ground, but her fantasy wasn't over. When I forced her to pull her legs up to her chest and plunged my still-hard cock into her, I maintained the horse cock illusion. She felt like she was stretching around the biggest cock she'd ever seen, and that I was forcing the entire thing into her. The way I felt, I might as well have had a horse cock. To help with the stretching illusion, I made her pussy tighten up, which made her feel like a virgin little girl to me. She started making enough noise to draw attention again, so I took control of her vocal cords silenced her.

Having cum in her mouth already, I was able to screw Kathy through several climaxes before I lost it again. This time, though, my control slipped as I came, and a couple of people nearby actually saw us. I determined that they hadn't recognized us, but it was a near thing. When I pulled out, Kathy looked down to see how badly I had stretched her, and was surprised to find that she was not much more open than normal.

"It's all illusion," I told her. "These people can't see us, and this," I pointed, "is what was actually inside you."