And then I hooked up with the burgeoning Indigo Child movement.

To say they welcomed me with open arms was only for public promotional purposes. Oh, there were the ceremonial meetings and greetings and speeches and the pro forma invitations to their seminars and councils, but privately, it was a different situation entirely.

Privately, the movement leaders didn’t appreciate another newcomer and rival, especially one as capable as I, and were just likely to denounce me as accept me. And that was before they discovered that I was only barely 12 years old, for all that I looked and acted much older. However, I didn’t want to disrupt what I saw that could turn out to be a Really Good Thing, so I cooperated and kowtowed, all the while making my plans and connections that I would need for later. Once I managed to convince them that I was a much better asset than adversary, they welcomed me with open arms, with a few still holding the daggers they would ultimately turn on each other, instead.

Truth to tell, I was hoping these Indigo Children would turn out to be as advanced as I, but I rapidly discovered they were just as stupid as everyone else, without a trace of the supposedly superior knowledge and powers they were reputed to have. What they excelled at, which was something that I could admire and emulate, was manipulating their followers, using tricks and techniques I found well worth emulating. It was exactly what I trained myself to do with my parents and their little circle of admirers, albeit on a larger scale. It was a game I could play in my sleep, and applied not only to my followers and adherents, but my peers and rivals at the same time. Because at their core, my compatriots in the Movement were as easy to manipulate as my parents, just for different reasons: the love of power and money were as strong a desire as the love of adulation and self-worth, and just as easy to work with.

And still just as much fun.

My next victim was Phil, a Chemistry major who augmented his meager scholarship with a thriving side business: he takes advantage of the notoriously lax campus security by pilfering various physical enhancing drugs from the Chemistry and Medicine departments and supplying them to the “student” athletes on campus, as well as providing the occasional recreational drugs and stimulants for the student body in general. Of course, he believed that his sideline was a total secret, and it was, to everyone except his customers and myself. Not that I really minded this bit of victimless crime: if the athletes wanted to stress out their bodies for a temporary gain, let them. It tended to weed out the smart ones from the stupid but ambitious ones.

And I knew exactly what sort of thing I was going to with him.

“I want a guy now, and I will give him the most incredible hypnotic orgasm he’s ever had.

“Who wants to volunteer?”

After seeing me bring two women to climax, the three males in the audience all started waving their hands, wanting to share in the action, but I pointed at Phil, seeing a look of disappointment in Erik’s and James’ eyes. Maybe I could change that, later, but now Phil was my intended target.

I instructed Phil to sit on the chair left vacant in the center of the room by Phaedra. As he did so, I reached down the neck of my blouse, getting a whistle from one of the two disappointed guys, and pulled out an amethyst pendant on a heavy silver chain. It was a gift from an admirer many years ago: its shade was exactly the color of my eyes, and it was one of the most perfect stones I had ever seen, as well as one of the largest.

I went and leaned over him, letting my pendant start to swing before his eyes.

“Now, just watch my pendant swing back and forth, back and forth …” I said, letting my gentle voice rise and fall as the pendant swung left and right, at the same time whispering words of sleep and surrender into the back of his mind. “Feeling more relaxed, more tired, more sleepy … sleepy … sleepy.”

I knew full well he was looking down the open neck of my blouse at my generous cleavage under the pretense of staring at my pendant, something that no one else could notice. Not that I minded: I deliberately positioned myself to give him exactly that view. One fixation point was as good as another, and the way it was arousing him distracted his mind better than any whisper I could use. Still, I savored the feeling of the whispers and his surrender to them. And I knew exactly how I would take advantage of his arousal.

Once Phil’s eyes closed in deep trance, I said “Phil, pull down your pants and shorts.”

Without hesitation, showing just how deep my control over him was, Phil did exactly that. His flaccid member showed the faint final stirrings of the arousal his total relaxation had eliminated. That I would change.

I turned both of his hands palm-up. Phil liked chemicals, so now he was going to get a hypnotically induced chemical erection.

I touched his right palm. “Phil, I am placing a little blue pill in your hand. You know what this pill is, what it does, don’t you?”

He nodded slightly. Of course he did: he supplied most of the male students with them.

“This little pill is very special: not only does it work, but it takes effect immediately.

“In your other hand is a glass of water. You may now take the pill.”

He put one hand to his lips and then the other. As his hands returned to his lap, we all waited for it work. Fortunately, whispering a guy into an erection was a skill I perfected long ago: it made foreplay so much easier and so very much more enjoyable. That, combined with his deep trance and the suggestions given him, combined to give him a prominent erection within seconds.

“Now Phil,” I said, leaning over to speak softly directly into his ear, “you will begin to feel lips surrounding your cock, working their way down your shaft … slowly … lovingly.

“Feel the sensations in your mind.” As a matter of fact, he was actually remembering them, with a woman whose face he couldn’t remember but whose skills were quite memorable. A few whispers were all it took to make him think he was reliving the sensation, and his slow moan and thrashing indicated it was working. I could also see that he was going to give the mental images a little physical assistance.

“You cannot touch yourself,” I commanded, and his hands froze into place. I also noticed out of the corner of my eye that Erik’s hands were starting to move to his groin and then froze in place, too. I think I had a sympathetic waking trance on my hands: I wondered if I could get Erik to come, too, and since I hadn’t whispered anything to him that caused this state, I resolved to experiment and not to whisper anything to him at all, just use the power of spoken suggestion to bring him to orgasm. More practice.

“You do not need to touch yourself: you can feel mouths touching you, hands stroking you, bodies arousing you,” I said, pitching my voice a little louder to include Erik in its hypnotic grasp.

Phil’s hands couldn’t move, but the rest of his body bucked and rode, his mind feeling the sensations that were bringing him to a quick orgasm. I could see Erik having a similar reaction, something that was now obvious to the others around the room, to their surprise and amusement.

“Touching you, stroking you, arousing you; touching, stroking, arousing; touching, stroking, arousing; touching … stroking … arousing …

“Touching.

“Stroking.

“Arousing.”

I kept repeating the suggestions until I thought he couldn’t stand the arousal any further, I said to him “Now come! Come harder than you have ever come before! Come!”

Phil responded with such a truly impressive discharge. It shot forth two, three, four, five times, and one last, pitiful attempt at a sixth, spilling all over his legs and thighs.

When the display was over, everyone applauded, either for Phil’s display or my command of the situation, it didn’t matter. The sensation was heavenly.

Except for Erik, that is, whose hands were still frozen. When I looked in his direction, everyone else looked too, and laughed at his distress. Erik blushed at seeing the dark stain on his pants and tried to stand, but his hands were still frozen on the chair. I walked over to him, smiling like a cat, and winked at him. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Erik blushed an even darker shade, something I didn’t think possible. I reached out and tapped his forehead with my finger. His eyes fluttered, as he obviously thought I was going to entrance him, but I said “Release!” and his hand leaped up from their paralysis and he jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Everyone else in the room, Phil excluded, broke out laughing at the sight.

For myself, I set about awakening Phil. I also had one request from the audience: “Would someone get Phil a wet towel? He needs to clean himself up.”