10 comments/ 38990 views/ 36 favorites The Semi-Ethical Mind Controller By: Olddirtyman Are there ethics to mind controlling? Not as such, no. Let's face it, usurping another person's free will is, at its least objectionable, rude and intrusive. That having been said, I try not to be too obnoxious about it. While I have used my power to make myself independently wealthy (some would say absurdly rich), I have done so completely within the law and without radically reducing anyone else's wealth to enhance my own. When it comes to women I take a similar approach. I always make certain that they completely enjoy their time with me and that they can go back to their regular lives without consequence or burden afterwards. I have never, and do not ever intend to, permanently enslave a woman. I'll even admit that this is not motivated by any particular level of altruism. For a start, I'm easily bored. Once I'm through with a woman that's it. I'm through. Secondly, there is the fact that I really don't want the responsibility and aggravation involved in maintaining a harem. It's just way too much work. Case in point was a young lady I've had my eye on for quite some time, but simply hadn't gotten around to yet. Yesterday I decided to take the plunge. She was the cashier at the local coffee shop downtown. Her body was the sort of thing that most men dream of, but never get close to. Her five foot frame sported wide, womanly hips that ended in a nicely rounded ass that was just the right size for her stature. It was big enough to be noticed, but not big enough to distract from the rest of her (unless, of course, you happened to see her walking away from you). Above that was a very trim twenty-two inch waist. Her Face was nearly angelic with wide, blue eyes, a cute, little button nose, and a smallish mouth with lips made to be wrapped around a hard cock. Her face was framed by thick, light brown hair that, had she not had it tied back for her job, would have cascaded down over her shoulders alluringly. It is unlikely, however, that most men noticed these enticing attributes because the main attraction, perhaps I should say the two main attractions, was her chest. Her tits were startlingly huge for someone of her height. Like many retail workers she wore a polo shirt with the name of the business emblazoned across it as part of her work uniform. In her case the letters of the name "The Bean Bar" were wildly distorted by the size and shape of the prodigious bust behind them. Each morning I go into town to run a few errands and always make the coffee shop my last stop before going home. For several weeks I've been ensuring that she knew my name and was ever so slightly turned on by my presence as I walked up to the counter each morning. Yesterday, while waiting in line to place my order, I decided to probe her mind a bit more deeply than I had before to find out exactly what sort of sexual desires and proclivities she had. She liked older men. That's a plus given that I am, to all appearances, forty-five and she's nineteen. She liked to give and receive oral sex. Good. But, she didn't like for a man to cum in her mouth let alone swallow. That could be adjusted with minor effort. She liked to dominate during sex. Temporarily that had to go. She liked anal. Not my cup of tea, but I had to admit that she certainly had the ass for it. I can be flexible and accommodating about some things. She had always had trouble achieving orgasms even with some very capable lovers. That I could definitely fix. I also found out that she got off work at half past three that afternoon, had no classes that day, and no pressing plans for her afternoon off. Perfect. I try to be careful about these things. I don't just randomly demand that a girl go home with me for a good fuck. I don't want anybody, for example, to lose time from their job on my account. A woman should not find herself suddenly unemployed just because I'm horny. Similarly with students, I don't want to them to miss any classes because of my desires. There seems to be a decreasing number of decently educated people in the word as it is. There is no reason that I should add to that problem. As I mentioned, I've been making sure that she has been slightly aroused by my presence each morning. For the last week or so I've tweaking that just a wee bit more each day. After all, it's no good if a woman finds herself aroused and about to be fucked by a man of whom she has had no such thoughts previously. That always requires a good deal of extra effort to calm the woman down (they tend to panic in such situations) and make her enjoy the experience. If I set the stage properly she will come to enjoy it all on her own. That's another reason that I don't want a harem. The hunt is half the fun. The wild sex is just the payoff for a plan well executed. Given her predisposition toward older men I thought it possible that my little plan might be working better than I had thought. I hadn't boosted her arousal level to the point that she might think it odd or wonder what was happening to her. I had only raised it to the level that she might think of me as someone special or someone about whom she might entertain some small fantasies. As my turn came and I approached the counter she smiled dazzlingly and said, "Good morning, Mr. Throckmorton." It was a beautiful smile. She had white, even teeth and thick sensuous lips that should never have been allowed to speak any words except, "Fuck me harder, Mr. Throckmorton," or, "I want suck your cock." That, of course, would all come in due time. "Good morning, Daisy," I said, "How are you this morning?" "Oh," she said as she crossed her arms under her chest mountains, "I'm feeling better than I have in a long time." Folding her arms like that pressed her breasts together in such a way that the word "bean" disappeared into a deep, cloth-covered cleavage. "I have no classes today," she continued, "and I'm getting off work early enough in the afternoon to actually go out and enjoy myself for once." "Well," I said feigning surprise, "That's wonderful news. Have you any big plans for your time off?" "Nothing specific," she said. Then she leaned over the counter, looked me straight in the eye and said flirtatiously, "But, given half a chance I can think of a lot of fun things to do with that kind of time." "I've no doubt that you can," I responded in kind. "Your usual this morning, sir?" she asked. "Yes," I said, "The usual. A large house blend to go. No room for cream. I'm a creature of habit I'm afraid." "Not all habits are bad, you know," she said as she swiped my credit card through the machine, then she whispered, "and some bad habits are very, very good." "I've no doubt that you know quite a few," I whispered back. "I'll bet that you could teach me some that I've never heard of," she said in a breathy and enticing voice. "I would certainly like to try," I said with a knowing smile. Then I slid one of my business cards across the counter. She had enough on the ball to not look at it right then and there. However, she unfastened both the buttons her company polo shirt and stuffed the business card into the massive canyon between her tits. She immediately re-buttoned herself and said, "Thank you and have a nice day," as though I was just another customer. "You too, Daisy," I said with a big grin. As I walked down to the other end of the counter to pick up my order I took the precaution of causing everyone in the shop, except Daisy and I, to forget that the conversation had taken place. All they would remember is that a near middle-aged man ordered coffee. It wouldn't do for her to get into any trouble for overtly flirting with a customer on company time or to get a reputation as a slut. I knew that when she got around to looking at the card she would see that on the back I had hand written my home address and the words, "Six o'clock. Take a cab. I'll pay for the ride out and back." Oddly enough the day passed rather quickly despite knowing what was coming that evening. I had much to do around my house that day. The garden needed weeding for a start. Yes, I suppose that I could hire someone to do that for me, but I take certain pride in doing myself. As I mentioned I live in a rather small, two bedroom house on the edge of town. I bought it because it was situated on a quite large tract of land, several acres, in fact. Well, that and the fact that the blonde bombshell real estate agent who sold it to me was a fantastic fuck. My nearest neighbor, on either side, is about a quarter mile away. I took the further precaution a buying up several acres of land beyond my original borders. I put a final lock on my privacy by doing my own unique brand of lobbying with the county and state governments. All of the land bordering mine, and much of the land bordering my immediate neighbors, is now either part of a state park or part of a protected wetland. My neighbors are, of course, quite pleased with this. It means that nobody is likely to be building an industrial park, shopping mall or housing development on our back doorsteps. For me especially, though, this sort of privacy is essential. I mentioned earlier that I am "to all appearances" forty-five years old. My kind, meaning people with special mental powers in general, tend to age much more slowly than most people. The age we portray to the public, after we pass one hundred eighty, tends to roughly our actual age divided by ten. So my actual age is four hundred fifty. When I reach four hundred sixty I will begin presenting myself as being forty-six. It may sound excessively arrogant, but we call ourselves "The Powerfuls". There are three basic "varieties", if you will, of us. There are Controllers like me. I can implant a thought in your mind which can, at some point, be translated into an action. I can also, to a lesser degree, read your thoughts. There are the Empaths who can sense and frequently feel the emotions of others to a degree that allows them work effectively around those emotions. Some are even powerful enough to be able to lightly manipulate people's emotions. This tends make them successful in the arts, but especially in business. You'd be hard pressed to win when negotiating a deal with someone who can feel and define your anxiety. Finally, there are the Predictors. Just as the name implies they predict the future. As one might expect, given the fluid, sometimes random, nature of the space time continuum their prediction are rarely as detailed as one might like. However, they are, more often than not, frighteningly accurate. I don't completely understand the process, but it has been explained to me in the following way. The Predictor "sees" several different possible outcomes to any given situation, different "timelines" you might call them. The Predictor makes his or her prognostication by deciding which timeline would appear to be the most logical outcome based on current circumstances. They, of course, issue these predictions with the caveat that any change in those conditions could change the outcome. There was, at one time, a fourth type. But, they are, as far as anyone knows, extinct. As I pottered about the garden I noticed, in the distance, that my neighbor to the south, Lianne Weston was trimming her rose bushes. Lianne is the neighborhood MILF. She is absolutely, drop dead gorgeous. She is one of those rare women for whom the phrase "brick shithouse" is hopelessly inadequate. She also has a sex drive which defies human imagination. Of course, nobody knows that first hand except her husband, the paper boy, and me. Oh, and in case you're wondering, I had nothing to do with putting her and the paperboy together. She worked that out all on her own. I briefly entertained the thought of spending some "quality time" with her just to take the edge off of my anticipation, but thought better of it. I suspected that I was going to need all of my energy to handle Daisy that evening. When the appointed time arrived the cab rolled up in front of the house. I went out to my young lady, paid the cabby (with a generous tip), and led Daisy into the house. She was wearing a white, cotton, sleeveless blouse with the top three button undone. The generous amount of cleavage it revealed jiggled enticingly as she walked. Her tan skirt was short, but respectably so. However, it was tight enough to fit her like a second skin. She rounded out the ensemble with a pair of high-heeled shoes. They weren't high enough to be considered "fuck me" shoes, just high enough to give extra grace to the long columns of her thighs. I decided that I was going to have to spend quite a bit of time licking and biting those later. "This is very nice house, Mr. Throckmorton," she said. "Thank you," I said, "But, since were not at the coffeehouse you can call me Howard if you wish." She pressed herself up against me and said in a throaty voice, "Thank you. But, calling you Mr. Throckmorton will make me feel so much naughtier." "And are you here to be naughty?" I asked knowing the answer. "No," she said as she squeezed my hardening cock through my trouser, "I'm here to be a dirty, little slut." Up to this point I had not yet exercised any control over her. I had been right that her desire for older men was working in my favor. "That's good to know," I said as I pulled her closer by the firm, round globes of her ass, "I like dirty, little sluts." "I can tell" she said as she ground herself against my, by that time, rock hard dick. "Would you like a drink?" I asked trying to sound more casual than I actually felt. "I'd love one," she said, "But, you should know that I'm only nineteen. So, it's not legal for me to have alcohol yet. I wouldn't want you to get in any trouble." "I admire your forthrightness and your concern," I said, "but, I'd be willing to bet that a good many of you girlfriends are right now headed to some fraternity party to swill some sort of cheap, bargain beer and get groped by some inept frat boy. They will stagger back to their dorm rooms, half in the bag, and not quite knowing what happened." Daisy nodded, "You're probably right." I gestured toward the couch and said, "Please, have a seat." As she walked away from me she gave her delectable backside an extra wiggle. It occurred to me that if she wanted that thing fucked who was I to deny her? As she sat down I continued, "It's that last part about staggering home that will likely cause whoever gave them the beer to get into trouble." "True," she agreed. "You, on the other hand," I said, "are in a much more controlled situation. I do not intend to let you drink enough to lose control of yourself and I do not intend to send you home in any condition short of stone, cold sober. So, the possibility of getting me into trouble doesn't actually exist." "That makes perfect sense," she said with a smile, "thank you for being so thoughtful." Then she added with a smirk, "And the groping?" "Will be mutual and, I suspect, executed with equal skill by either groper," I answered with a wink. She laughed and crossed her legs causing her skirt to ride up to show a wide expanse of her lovely thighs. Then I caught the thought in her mind. She was ready to suggest skipping the drinks and getting right down to the groping. As she was about the start unbuttoning her blouse the rest of the way I gently pushed the thought back and planted the thought that it might be more interesting to wait. "Since you have had little experience with this sort of beverage," I said, continuing on the subject of drinks, "We should probably keep you away from anything heavy. No hard booze." "Okay," she said. "But, I see no harm in you having one or two beers while you are here," I said. "Weren't you just decrying beer a moment ago?" she asked skeptically. "I was decrying the cheap slime they swill at frat houses," I said, "There is such a thing as good beer." "You mean like from micro-breweries?" she asked. "Exactly," I said, "There are one or two excellent ones right here in town." With that I went to the kitchen to retrieve one of my better beers from the refrigerator. I could feel her eyes on my butt as I walked away. The moment I left the room she unfastened one more button on her blouse and parted it to show even more of her spectacular mountains of female flesh. I noted the thought and allowed her to do it. A bit of mutual teasing could make this quite fun. But, I tweaked he arousal levels a little more to keep her distracted and myself in control. When I returned from the kitchen, beer bottle in hand, I saw that she had parted the upper half of her blouse enough that I could see the edges of her lacy, cream colored bra. The twin spheres of lady flesh bulged enticingly from the cups. "Before I hand you the beer there are two things that need to be said," I told her. "Like what?" she asked. "First," I said as I bent down until we were nose to nose, "That is very sexy." With that I bent down farther to lick her cavernous cleavage from bottom to top. She shuddered and her nipples hardened. By the time I stood up again they were making delightful dents in her blouse. "Thank you," she said, trying to catch her breath, "What's the other thing?" "Micro-breweries tend to quite effective and, at times, even artful at their core craft," I said, "However, they are absolutely wretched idiots when it comes to naming their products. So, don't let the name fool you. The beer is really quite good." I handed her the bottle. She read the navy blue printing on the plain, white label and exploded into gales of laughter. "Deaf Raccoon?" she squeaked with mirth, "They call their beer Deaf Raccoon? That's insane!" "See what I mean?" I said with a grin. "That's the stupidest name for anything I've ever seen," she said as her laughter abated. "Isn't it, though," I said, "Now taste it." She lifted the bottle tentatively to her full lips and took a small sip. She smiled and said, "That's very good. I see what you mean about swill at the frat houses. Compared to this they're drinking lightly flavored, carbonated water." She took another larger sip. "Drink that carefully and slowly," I warned her, "that's the trick to holding your liquor. Sip. Don't chug." "I'll keep that in mind," she said, "thank you." "You're welcome," I said. "With that kind of advice nobody can ever accuse you of trying to get me drunk so that you can take advantage of me," she said coquettishly. I sat down next to her, put my hand on her thigh just below the hem of her skirt, and whispered in her ear, "Oh, there are much better ways to take advantage of you." She uncrossed her legs and opened her thighs to give me better access as she asked, "Such as?" "Such as this," I said. Then I kissed her. She threw her arms around my neck and returned the kiss with an almost startling level of passion. As our tongues dueled my hand inched its way slowly up her thigh toward her moist honey pot. She moaned into my mouth and grabbed my wrist in an attempt to speed up the process. She opened her legs wider and tried to scoot down to bring her pussy closer to my slowly moving hand. Neither gambit worked. She broke the kiss and said, "Quit teasing me." "Eager?" I asked. "Horny!" she answered, "I didn't come here to talk or drink designer beer." She reached out to try to unbuckle my belt and hissed, "I came here to FUCK! While one of my hands was almost up to that dripping juncture between her legs I used my other hand to grab her wrist and move it away from my belt. "Stop teasing" she said, "or I'll...oohhhhh..." She moaned because my hand had just reached her pussy. The little slut wasn't wearing panties so my finger just slid right in. Her voluminous bosoms heaved with her breathing. She started trying to hump my finger. That made her jugs jiggle and quiver. The Semi-Ethical Mind Controller I withdrew my finger and stood up. "You seem to be in an awfully big hurry to get laid," I said, "Is there somewhere that you need to be later in the evening?" She sat up and tried to straighten her skirt saying, "No. But I've been thinking about this for quite a while." "Really?" I said, sitting back down and putting my arm around her. "Yeah, kind of," she said in a small, childlike voice. She drew her arms around herself and her knees together. She suddenly looked vulnerable and tiny. "Can you tell me about it?" I asked. "I don't know how," she said quietly, "I haven't quite sorted it all out myself." I cupped her chin in my hand and lifted her face up until her wide, blue eyes met mine. "You can tell me," I said softly, "I won't laugh at you or think ill of you in any manner. You're safe here." She relaxed her arms somewhat and rested her head against my chest. "It's just that this isn't happening the way I thought it would," she said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Well," she said hesitantly, "You're a different kind of man." "I've heard that said," I responded, "Not always in a complimentary fashion." She suddenly sat up straight, wrenching free of my arm, and looked at me. "No," she said, "Don't take that wrong. I meant that in the best way." "Thank you," I said as I put my arm around her and pulled her close to me again. She snuggled up with her head resting on my shoulder and her breasts pressing against my arm. "It's just that..." she started to say. She didn't finish the sentence. "What?" I asked. She took a deep breath, which made her breasts swell invitingly, and said, "I've been here for what? Half an hour?" I glanced at the clock on the top shelf of one of my bookcases and answered, "More than that. It's nearly ten minutes to seven." "Okay," she said, "I've been here for almost an hour and we still both have clothes on." "So?" I said. "So," she responded, "any other man or boy I've ever been with would have had us both naked by now and would be humping like mad at some part or another of me. I guess I'm just not used to taking this much time." "Call me egotistical if you will," I said, "But I like to think that I'm worth waiting for." I lifted her head gently until we were eye to eye and added, "I know for a fact that you are." She looked up at me with a beaming smile and said, "That's nice. That's very nice." One of the things that most people don't realize about mind control is that it is not always necessary to exert said control overtly. Sometimes it's a simple matter of saying the right things or committing the right actions at the right time. While it's true that I had tweaked Daisy's sexual interest very slightly, her own mind and desires ran with it far beyond anything that I could have imagined. Everything that she said came from her own perceptions, her own view of the situation. There very fact that she was there was largely her own decision. I did not directly compel her to accept my invitation. I certainly could have. I could have exerted the same level of control over her that one has over one's own hand. But, where's the fun in that? How different would that be from masturbation? Not very much, in my view. "Do you trust me?" I asked softly while I still had her full attention. "Yes," she said, "probably more than I should. But, yes." "I will make you two promises tonight," I said, "The first is that I will make tonight one that you won't forget. I will make you feel things you've never felt and make you experience more orgasms than you ever thought possible." "That sounds nice," she said as she relaxed completely, "If you can actually do that," she added skeptically. "I can," I said, "The second promise is that I will not hurt you in any way," I paused as though fighting for a thought, purely for effect, of course and said, "Unless you need a spanking. That might sting a bit." With a wicked smile she said, "You might have to do that. I plan on being a very bad girl." As she undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse and parted it to expose her intoxicatingly over-stuffed bra she added, "And I happen to be damned good at being bad." Then she pulled me in for a deep, long, searing, wet kiss. Her urgency was gone. That was a kiss done purely for its own sake. Our tongue waltzed with and caressed each other. One of her hands was tickling at the back of my neck. The other was slowly rubbing my chest through my shirt. The combination of the oral ballet and the closeness of her body to mine enthusiastically promoted the flow of blood directly to my penis. It had, almost immediately, become a skin covered steel bar in my pants. She reached down to squeeze the bar. I moaned into her mouth. "Two can play at this game," I thought. I reached down to part her thighs, stuck my hand under her skirt and slowly inserted a finger between her dripping nether lips. I diddled her clit with my thumb at the same time. It was her turn to moan. She bucked her hips against my hand. Her tongue shot into my mouth stiffly and stayed there for a moment or two then relaxed. Her massive mammaries rolled like waves of the ocean with the movement of her hips. I knew that she was ready for my first little gambit. I implanted a short audio trigger in her mind. I wanted to bring her off once very quickly at the beginning. I broke the kiss and whispered in her ear, "Having fun?" "Yes," she hissed passionately. "Are you getting close to orgasm?" I asked. "Yes," she hissed again, "but, I can't quite get there." I stopped moving my finger and thumb saying, "Of course you can." "She looked at me plaintively and said, "No. this happens a lot. I can get right up to the edge, but most of the time I can't get past it." I started sloshing my finger slowly in and out of her wet gash again. My thumb went back to work on her clit. Her hips resumed bucking. "Yes you can," I said, "In fact I'll bet that you're so hot right now that if I said the word 'cum' three times you would." "I wish," she moaned. As my thumb and finger picked up speed I murmured, "Cum." She shuddered. "Cum." She shivered. "Cum." She exploded. She groaned and writhed as the orgasmic wave washed over her. Her hips bucked in a spastic pattern on my hand. She whined and whimpered as she gave herself over to the hedonistic joy. Then her entire body stiffened and she screeched as her orgasm peaked. At last her body relaxed and she slumped back onto the couch. "Wow," she said, still trying to catch her breath, "that was amazing. Nobody has ever made cum that soon or that hard." "I'm glad you liked it," I said with a smile. "That's not the word," she said, "I mean, 'like' doesn't even begin to cover it. I don't even know if there is a word to describe it. I've heard other girls talking about orgasms like that, but I thought that they were just bragging. I didn't know that it was actually possible." I just smiled, I'll admit rather smugly. "Your turn, Mr. Throckmorton," she said with a mischievous gleam in her eye. She scrambled down to her knees and parted my legs and snuggled up between them. "I've been here for an hour," she said as she unbuckled my belt, "You've given me an earthquake of an orgasm, and I haven't even seen you cock yet." At this point I was perfectly willing to give over control to my little, teen vixen for a while. When she had unbuttoned my trousers and lowered the zipper I lifted my hips so that she could pull my pants and underwear down. When I sat back down I kicked off my shoes so that she could remove my trousers completely. Her eyes went wide as my thick, eight inches bobbed out of my pants. She reached out to stroke it lightly with her fingers. "It's beautiful," she whispered with a smile, "It's just the right size, too. It will fit inside of me perfectly." "Fit where?" I asked, reveling in the feel of her hand in my dick. "Well," she said, "Why don't we start with my mouth?" I moaned as she gave the head of my stiff prick a big, sloppy kiss. "It will fit right into my throat," she said, "So you can even fuck my face if you want." She let go of my dick, leaned back and unfastened the front catch on her bra. She slowly parted the cups to reveal her mouth-watering globes. Shrugging off the useless garment, she held up her breasts in offering and said, "Or you could put it between these. I know that you want to." I nodded in response. "You like you're big enough to pop out of the top of my cleavage so that I can lick you when you do," she continued, "I'll bet you'd like that." I nodded again. "Or..." she said as she stood up to unzip and shimmy out of her skirt. She stood facing me with her legs spread widely. She ran one finger over her moist vaginal lips. They glistened between her strong, young thighs. The hair had been trimmed down to a cute, light brown landing strip. "...you could just, plain fuck me," she said finishing her sentence, "You finger was nice. But, I'd much rather have your thick cock in here. Wouldn't you?" Again I nodded. "But, you know what I really want?" she asked. "What?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be. She turned her back to me and bent down to grasp her ankle so that her magnificent rear stuck out. She looked back at me and said with a wicked smile, "I want you here." She gave that incredible hind side a wiggle and continued, "I want you to fuck me, hard and mean, in my round, firm ass. That's how I cum best. Do you think you can do that?" I nodded. "Good," she said as she kicked off her shoes. She resumed her kneeling position between my legs. Reaching out she stroked my hardness delicately but firmly. It was a heavenly feeling. "Let's start by getting this thing good and slick," said Daisy. She plunged her mouth down over my cock until her nose was in my pubic hair and her chin was nuzzling my gonads. She slowly lifted her head back to the top then plunged down again. She was using one hand to hold my pole in place while she sucked it. With the other she tickled my balls with a light, almost feathery touch. On each down stroke she would move that feathery touch to my scrotum while her tongue snakes out to lick my ball sack. She kept repeating the motions. Slow rise. Plunge down. Slow rise. Plunge down. I had never experience anything quite like it. She was startlingly skilled for one so young. I held her head gently and wrapped my fingers in her long, brown hair. In no time at all she had me moaning and writhing at her ministrations. This was no mere blowjob. She wasn't just sucking my cock. She was displaying a level of skill and care that could fully justify use of the word "fellatio". I knew that I wasn't going to last long if she kept that up. But, it was too good for me to want to stop her. That slick, teasing rise followed by the sudden dive to my root was making me insane with lust. She must have sensed that I was close because she lifted her mouth off of me and squeezed the base of my cock very hard with her thumb and forefinger. There was a fleeting moment of sharp pain, but then the pressing urge to ejaculate subsided a bit. I had been with women who had used this technique on me before. It was still a bit surprising coming from a nineteen year old. I realized that there must be a good deal more to Daisy than met the eye or even the psychic probe. I made a mental note to look into that later. Daisy jerked my attention back to her by firmly stroking my cock and saying with an impish grin, "No, no, Mr. Throckmorton. We can't have you going off that quickly. We have all night. I'll just have to do something to keep you distracted." "What did you have in mind?" I asked. She stood up then asked me to lie down on the couch. I did. She straddled my head and lowered her mouth back down over my dick. I got the message. I grasped the firm spheres of her ass to pull her dripping hole down to my mouth. I was determined to give as good as I was getting. I turned my head to the left to begin licking her thigh. With careful, lingering up and down stroke of my tongue I bathed that part of her in spit. I ploddingly worked my way up to the point where her thigh met her torso. I took nearly two minutes to complete the journey. Then I licked up and down at the juncture, being very careful to not actually touch the lips of her vagina. She shivered at the contact. She lifted her mouth off my cock long enough to mutter, "Teasing bastard," then she resumed her adroit fellatio. I turned my head to the right to repeat the process on her other thigh. She shivered again. I then repositioned myself slightly so that I could begin another languorous tongue trek. I began at the bottom of her cunt, again being very careful not to actually touch that part of her. With deliberate sloth I began licking, with a left to right motion, slowly up that stretch of flesh between her vagina and her anal opening. I think that I succeeded in taking a full minute to finish the trip. At the top I licked enthusiastically at her rosebud. Daisy moaned around my cock sending exquisite vibrations up and down the shaft. When I had finished with her ass I repeated the tongue journey back down to her vagina. Daisy pulled her soft wet lips off of my cock again and whined, "Damn it, Howard, stop fucking around and EAT ME!" After a brief pause she whimpered, "Please." I decided that I had teased her just enough and granted her demand. I licked slowly along one of her vaginal lips then did the same to the other. Then I thrust my tongue as deeply into her pussy as I could get it to go, holding her delectable ass cheeks in a vice like grip. She gasped. I moved my oral digit in and out of her drenched slot as rapidly as I could. Daisy ground her pussy against my face. Suddenly I withdrew my tongue and replaced it with two fingers using the same kind of motion as I had with my tongue. As I did so I went to work on her clitoris. I licked, sucked, and nibbled that tiny nub until she was squirming with arousal. Then, with my other hand, I started to tickle her little rosebud. "What *gasp* are you *gasp* doing? *gasp*" she tried to say. I answered by shoving my finger into her ass. She squeaked and whimpered as her body started to convulse. The climax hit her like a ton of bricks. She moaned, and, bucked, and quivered. She screamed and cried. She ground her cunt onto my face with a frightening amount of force. I thought that she might smother me. When her orgasm finally subsided she sagged down on top of me like a deflated balloon. "Damn, that was good," she said more to herself than to me. She rolled over on her back and said, "This isn't fair, you know." "What isn't fair?" I asked. "I've just had two bone rattling orgasms and you haven't even cum once yet," she said. She lifted up her huge tits and said, "Why don't you put that thing in between these? Then you can cum on my big tits and slutty face." "Later," I said as I crawled on top of her and lifted her legs up until she could throw her knees over my shoulders, "First I want to fuck you until you can't walk." She smiled and said, "I like the sound of tha - OOF!" I had slammed my cock into her so hard that it knocked the wind out of her. She clutched at my back as I jackhammered in and out of her drenched slit. "Fuckmefuckmefuckme..." she chanted as I slammed her. The slick, tight walls of her cunt gripped my pile-driver, desperately striving to milk the jizz from my balls. My ramrod pounded her cunt mercilessly. She moaned and wailed as I fucked her. As I mauled and bit her tits my hips were almost a blur with the speed of my movements. I wanted to cum so badly my balls hurt. But I knew I had to wait. The third time was the charm. I had to make her cum one more time. Her tight poon-pit was making it almost impossible to do that. It was so hot and so wet. I kneaded and squished her massive jugs like bread dough. I crammed my rod up her slick slot like I was possessed. Suddenly I pulled out. "Turn over!" I ordered. She did. She scrambled up on her hands and knees. She knew exactly what I was going to do. I grabbed her ass and spread her round, young cheeks. I knew that I was damned slick from her vaginal juices. Once I got the head of my hard dick lined up with her little rosebud I rammed it home and started jamming it as hard as I had been in her pussy. She was tight and hot. She humped her hot rump back at me and groaned with lust. I began spanking her spherical cheeks it time with our movements. Her asshole gripped me so tightly that it almost hurt. I rammed her then spanked her. Ram and spank. Ram and spank. Ram and spank, over and over again. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..." she whimpered as she squashed her tits in a near death grip. "Is this what you wanted?" I shouted. "Yes!" she screamed back. "Is this why you came here?" "Yes!" "Don't just say 'yes'," I bellowed, "Tell me why you came here!" "So you could fuck my ass!" she screamed. "Are you sure?" "Yes! Keep fucking me!" "What do you want?" "Fuck my ass harder!" "I can't hear you!" I shouted as I reach under us to squeeze her clit between my thumb and forefinger. "FUCK ME! FUCK MY HOT ASS! FUCK ME UNTIL I... AIEEEEEEY!" she screeched out her orgasm. That was all I needed. I grunted and started shooting wad after wad of ball butter into her bowels! We bucked, bellowed, writhed and stiffened together as we climaxed. At long last we collapsed into a pair of crumpled heaps on the couch. I pulled my softening cock out of her ass and sat up. When she finally sat up as well she put her arms around me and rested her head on my chest. She pulled her feet on the couch and rested her legs across my lap. I put my arms around her to pull her in closer. We sat there holding on another for fifteen minutes or so. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us needed to. It was comfortable. It felt right. Daisy finally broke the silence by saying, "That was incredible." Then she looked up at me with that pixie grin and added, "You're not half bad for an old fart." "I'm not that old," I said defensively. "You're more than twice my age," she replied. "True," I said, "But, I'm still only forty-five." She pulled free of my arms and kneeled next to me on the couch. "Bullshit," she said smiling. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "If you're forty-five I'm a giraffe," she answered still smiling, "You're at least four hundred and fifty if you're a day." I said, "I don't know what you're thinking, but..." "I know what you are," she interrupted, "You're a Controller." It suddenly dawned on me that I had been had, in more ways than one. "There's only one way that you could know that," I said flatly. "I'm an Empath," she said with a grin. Then she added with some concern "I hope you're not mad." "No," I said, "I'm not mad. It certainly explains a couple of things. I do have one question, though." "Why are you here?" I asked. "I thought we covered that," she said brightly, "I wanted you to fuck me in the ass." "You know perfectly well what I meant, young lady," I said impatiently. She lowered her head and said sadly and quietly, "You are mad." I leaned over to her, gently cupped her face in my hands, and said firmly, "I'm not mad. I just want some answers." She threw her arms around me, snuggled back closely, and buried her head on my chest. "I'm here because I was lonely and I was pretty sure you could be trusted," she said softly. "Obviously you haven't encountered too many Controllers," I said, "or you wouldn't have thought that. The sad truth is that a lot of us tend to be dangerous, especially to beautiful young ladies like you." The Semi-Ethical Mind Controller "I've encountered enough," Daisy said defensively. Then she stopped for a moment while something else dawned on her. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked. "Very much so," I said as I hugged her, "How many other Controllers have you met?" "Three," she said, "I was raised in a small town in Virginia. I was the only on like me. I didn't know about any of the other Powerfuls." I thought about that for a minute and realized that the, under those circumstances, her first meeting with a Controller probably went badly. "How long did he enslave you for?" I asked. "Almost two years," she said. "My gods!" I exclaimed, "How the hell did you manage to escape?" "I was rescued," she answered. "By whom?" "Gina Zelonia." That probably shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did. Gina Zelonia is something of a legend among Powerfuls. She's the best know Predictor in the world. She is also widely known for being fiercely protective of young women like Daisy. I was starting to get a bit apprehensive about this. The last thing that I needed to do was have trouble with someone like Gina Zelonia. "All of this is enlightening," I said, "But, it doesn't answer my question. In fact it does the opposite. You've just given me a bunch of good reasons that you should never have trusted me." "Sort of, but not really," she said. "Okay," I said, "Now you're being downright confusing." "I guess I am a little," she said with a smile. I was starting to really like that smile. "Look," I said, "Why don't you just start at the beginning." "Go through the middle until you hit the end, "she said, "Then stop." "You've read Lewis Carroll," I said grinning. "Several times," she said. She took a deep breath then began to explain, "Remember when you first started coming into the Bean Bar?" "Yes," I said. "And started tweaking my libido just a little?" she said. "Yes." "Well," she continued, "the tweaks were so small and so subtle that I actually didn't notice them for the first week or so. I didn't realize that anything was different until I figured out that I knew your name but you had never actually introduced yourself. The tweaks were so small that I didn't see them as any real problem. I just used one of the defenses that Gina taught me and that took care of it. That's how I got rid of the other two Controllers that I met. For them I just threw up a big barrier. When they tried to probe my mind all they saw was the image of huge, flashing, neon sign that said, 'It's none of your business, asshole! Fuck Off!' They saw that and stopped bothering me." "I didn't encounter any barriers, though," I said as soon as I stopped laughing. "I didn't put up one for you," she said, "Gina taught me a more subtle way to go about things. I let the command hit me then, before it has a chance to actually do anything to me, I squeeze it out. That way the Controller doesn't know right away that his or her command hasn't worked." "That's very good," I said with a nod, "and I didn't know." "Besides," she said, "it was such a small thing that I thought it was kind of cute and shy. I was also kind of curious where you were going to go with it." I had to chuckle at that. I've been called a lot of things, but 'cute and shy' has never been on the list. "Anyway," Daisy resumed her explanation, "after that went on for a couple of months I really started to wonder about what you were up to. So, I called Gina and told her all about it. I described the whole thing and she kind of agreed that it was kind of cute and shy. When I told her your name she went dead silent for a moment. It kind of scared me. I didn't know what she was thinking. Then she told me that you would never hurt me, and that I should let the whole thing play out to see where it led." It surprised me that some one of the stature of Gina Zelonia knew anything at all about me at all. "The last time I talked to her was this afternoon," Daisy continued, "I told her about you sort of upping the ante a little each day in the last week or so. We were both pretty sure that you were going to finally do something pretty soon, and, to be real honest, I was kind of hoping you would." "You were?" I asked, somewhat amazed by that little confession. "Yeah, kind of," she said, becoming suddenly shy and burying he face in my chest,"I had been thinking about you for a while." "What kind of thoughts?" I asked. "Just things," she said softly. "What things?" I asked. "I don't know," she said almost inaudibly, "what you might look like naked, what your body would feel like, how you'd smell, how big your cock would be..." She didn't finish the sentence. I pulled her up to give her a deep searing kiss. Our tongues waltzed languorously for several minutes. I wasn't completely sure how she felt about it, but I didn't want it to end. When we finally came up for air she said, "Do you want me to finish the story?" "Yes," I said, "Please." "Well," she said as she cuddled in closer, "When I called her this afternoon to tell her about you inviting me to your house she said that I should decide whether or not to accept for myself and then she told me three other things. She was right about all of them. First she repeated what she had said before about never hurting me," she looked up at me and said, "She was right about that except for when you were slapping my ass. That stung a little." Then she added with wink, "But, I kind of liked it. The second thing was that you were trustworthy. I sort of agreed with her but I wasn't really sure until after I'd been here for a while." "What changed you mind?" I inquired. "When you gave me that beer and told me to be careful and just sip it. Any other man, Controller or not, would have tried to get me to chug it." Then she started giggling. "What's so funny?" I asked. "Deaf Raccoon," she said, "That is just so stupid." I had to laugh at that one, too. "The third thing she told me I just had to take her word for until now," she said. "What's that?" I asked. "You're a great fuck!" she exclaimed with a huge grin. I sat bolt upright and said, "Wait a minute! How the hell would she know that? I've never even met the woman!" "Yes you have," said Daisy. "No," I said adamantly, "No. I would certainly remember having met someone as important as Gina Zelonia, especially if I had fucked her." "You don't know her as Gina Zelonia," said Daisy, "You know her as Lianne Weston." "Lianne Weston" I asked incredulously, "as in 'my next door neighbor'?" Daisy grinned and nodded. "Lianne Weston as in 'Brad Weston's trophy wife'?" Daisy nodded again with an even wider grin. "Lianne Weston as in 'the neighborhood MILF'?" I asked, "That Lianne Weston?" Daisy smirked and nodded. I exploded with laughter and couldn't stop. It was the only reasoned response to what I had just been told. I was laughing so hard that I fell off the couch and almost cracked my head on the corner of the coffee table. But, I couldn't stop. It was all just too strange. Daisy leaned over in a near panic. "Are you allright?" she asked with serious concern. "I'm fine," I squeaked, trying to calm down and catch my breath. "I'm fine." When my almost uncontrollable mirth finally wound down I hauled myself back up onto the couch. Daisy immediately wrapped me in bear hug. "I thought that you'd hurt yourself," she said. "I'm fine," I reassured her again. "Why did you find that so funny?" she asked. "Let's just say that I've had more than my full quota of weirdness for one day and leave it at that. Okay?" I answered. As I put my arms around her she said, "Okay." We sat holding each other without speaking for nearly half an hour or so. Then Daisy said, "Thank you." "For what," I asked. "For keeping your promise," she said. "What promise was that?" I asked. "About making me feel things that I'd never felt before," she murmured. "I'm glad that you enjoyed it," I said. "No," she replied, "I don't mean just the sex. I mean, it was really good, but that's not what I'm talking about." "What are you talking about?" I asked softly. "Right here," she said, "and right now. I'm a hundred and ninety years old and this is the first time I've felt safe in a man's arms." She sighed then added, "I want to stay just like this for a long time." "I'd like that, too," I said, smiling. "Good," she said, "If we both want it then we can make it happen." "We can do that," I said. As I sat there holding her I began to think that maybe I had turned a corner in life. Perhaps, at long last, I had found something that I've wanted for over four hundred years. Maybe, just maybe, I had finally found someone with whom I could grow old.