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I first saw her in the department store. The store caters predominantly to women, with the token men's department on one of the upper floors. The antiquated lifts are slow with long waiting times, but there are escalators between each floor which are quicker. However that means having to pass through several floors of women's clothing to get to the exit and back into the mall.
On my way out of the store, I noticed a group of girls from the local snooty girls' Grammar School. It was a Friday and the girls are let out an hour earlier than the rest of the week. The school has a strict dress code and the girls were dressed in the younger pupils' uniform of green blazer, white blouse, and green pleated skirt. I noticed this one particular girl because she had the face of an angel with a knowing smile framed by long chestnut hair. From my vantage point on a descending escalator I saw that, masked by a crowd of her friends, she took a skirt from a rack of clothes, held it against herself to see what it looked like, then slipped it into her backpack. When the skirt was safely secreted she looked around, saw me watching, and smirked.
I decided not to get involved. That's what store security is for.
Later, after I had finished my day's shopping, I deposited my bags in the trunk of my car and returned to the mall's open-plan coffee lounge to unwind - I really hate shopping for clothes. I was sitting, sipping my second coffee, and watching the passers-by when I saw the gang of girls again. The girl with the angelic face appeared to be the ringleader, and I watched as she jostled an elderly woman out of her path, nearly causing the woman to fall over. The woman obviously said something because the girl responded with an obscene gesture then all the girls circled the woman, taunting her. A security guard saw what was happening and started to move to intervene, but the girls had already lost interest in their prey and were heading towards the coffee shop.
The girls bought pastries, sundaes or ice-creams and drinks and started harassing people to move from their tables so they could all sit together. The girl with the angelic face decided she wanted my table too and moved menacingly in my direction. Suddenly she recognised me from the department store, and with an exaggerated action she 'accidentally' spilled her coffee over my jeans.
"Oh, how terribly clumsy of me. I'm soooo sorry," she theatrically apologised with an affected accent. Plausible deniability. The little madam was certain there was nothing I could do about it and the coffee lounge staff all pointedly looked the other way and pretended to be busy.
Fortunately most of the coffee missed and it wasn't scalding hot but I was left with a warm, brown stain on the crotch and legs of my jeans.
I'm very careful about how I use my gift. If the government ever found out about it I've no doubt I'd be incarcerated in a laboratory for dissection, or forced to work for the security forces against whoever they imagined our enemies to be at the time. But something in me snapped, and I decided this girl needed to be taught a lesson.
Expressionlessly I got up and moved to another table where I patiently sat and finished my coffee. The girl with the angelic face had instantly forgotten about me, probably classing me as a gutless loser who wouldn't stand up to her, and sat chatting noisily with her friends. I probed gently until I found which was her mind and hooked myself in. She never felt a thing, and once hooked in I could pretty much stay in as long as I liked no matter how far apart we were.
People don't think in words so it's not possible to read thoughts. The best I can do is to read feelings and, although you couldn't exactly call them images like you see on television, receive impressions of images which my mind can reconstruct, a bit like imagining yourself to be the hero in a story you're reading - the image is partly from the story and partly how you imagine yourself in the role.
Eventually the girls finished their snacks and got up to leave. I planted an urgent need to use the restroom in the mind of the girl with the angelic face.
"I need to pee, I'll catch up with you guys later," she shouted out shamelessly. She parted company with the gang and headed towards the restrooms, the opposite direction to the way her friends were going.
I got up and followed the girl. She was wearing opaque white tights but they did little to hide the fact that she had really nice legs for a kid. When she went into the restroom I waited outside. I felt when she sat on the toilet, and I also felt her surprise when she could only produce a short burst of pee. I then made her feel compelled to evacuate her bowels, causing more surprise as she was nearly empty. Further implanted impulses made her take off her tights and panties completely and put them in her backpack, together with a wad of toilet tissue. She was a bit confused about why she was doing it but she complied without hesitation. After she wiped herself and stood up, I made her hitch her skirt up high so it barely covered her pussy and ass. She flushed the toilet then washed her hands.
When the girl left the restroom she instinctively tried to turn towards the direction her friends had taken, but I directed her in the other direction, through the nearby exit. The restrooms had only grudgingly been included in the mall, and the builders had sited them as far out of the way as possible, near to a sparsely used exit, to deter people from using them and to minimise the risk of unpleasant odours permeating the complex.
I could feel fear rising in the girl as she found herself taking an unfamiliar route. I followed her at a distance, enjoying the sight of her bare legs, which looked even better in the flesh, and getting occasional glimpses of her pert little ass as it bobbed up and down under her thigh- skimming skirt. I felt myself getting aroused, a tent forming in my soggy jeans. I surreptitiously rearranged it so it wouldn't be obvious to the few passers-by.
Outside the mall I directed the girl towards a building site. A short row of closely packed Victorian houses had been bought for demolition by a developer with the intention of erecting a block of luxury apartments, but the advent of the recession meant demand had dried up. The developer had mothballed the project and fenced off the site, and to take advantage of a quirk in the tax laws had demolished the roofs so the site was classed as a building site rather than the more financially punitive empty housing.
I caught up with the girl until I was only a couple of yards behind her. She now suspected I was there but I made sure she didn't turn round to verify my presence, and I also made sure she couldn't speak in order to alert anyone.
When I found what I was looking for, a gap in the fence, I directed the girl through it. I could feel her heart pumping hard now; she was really scared. I directed the girl towards a derelict house and made her go inside. It was in decent condition, apart from some rain damage to the walls because of the roof having been removed, with no evidence of occupation by drug addicts or the homeless. There was even some half decent carpet still on the lounge floor. I let the girl turn to see me and relaxed my prohibition on her speaking. I could feel her fear rise as she recognised me again; compounding the fear that she already felt from the way her will was being overridden.
"Why am I here, who are you, what do you want?" she pleaded, with tears in her eyes.
"You're here because you picked on the wrong person. I didn't stop you shoplifting and I didn't stop you bullying that old woman, but you went too far when you spilt your coffee on me."
"I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please let me go," she sobbed.
"That's not good enough. You made a mess and now you're going to clean it up." I pointed at my stained jeans, and in particular at the tell-tale bulge in the front. "Why don't you take your clothes off so I can get a good look at you?"
Taking her clothes off was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was unable to resist my implanted impulses. Standing facing me she took off first the blazer, then the blouse, then a plain white bra and finally the skirt, leaving her naked apart from her shoes.
She was absolutely gorgeous, although younger than I first imagined. Her immature mound had just the faintest hint of fluff above her plump little cunt lips, all framed by narrow hips and a flat stomach. Her cute little breasts didn't warrant a bra, being barely AA cup, and I guessed she only wore one to show off to her peers.
"Turn around," I ordered, forcing her to do it whether she wanted to or not. Her pert, boyish buttocks were so cute that I made her bend over and pull them apart, exposing her crinkled pink hole and her cunt lips. I stared for several long seconds, feeling my erection get even harder, then I let her back up.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Philippa," she sobbed, her face now streaked with tears. I couldn't have forced her to tell me her real name if she had chosen to lie, but I deduced from her feelings that she was telling the truth.
"And how old are you?"
"Thirteen."
I felt some slight unease from Philippa at the latter, so I guessed she had either rounded up or down. If she was twelve she was tall for her age, but if she was fourteen she was somewhat underdeveloped.
"Well, Philippa, come over here and kneel in front of me."
As an experiment I initially didn't implant the urge and she stood there motionless, perhaps sensing where this was leading. However when I implanted the urge, she had no option but comply. As a sort of running commentary I gave Philippa a succession of verbal commands, implanting corresponding urges so she had no choice but to obey them.
"Unbuckle my belt. Unzip my fly. Pull my jeans down."
After Philippa had puddled my jeans round my ankles, my straining cock made a 45 degree angle as it fought against the front of my jockeys. Fortunately the coffee hadn't seeped through to my jockeys, but there was a little wet patch on the front where they had absorbed some leaking pre- cum.
"Now pull down my jockeys."
Philippa had to press my cock against my stomach so she could ease the waistband of my jockeys over my straining erection, and even though her little hand only touched me through the layer of fabric, my cock pulsed at the contact.
After my jockeys had joined my jeans round my ankles, my straining cock was pointing straight at Philippa's face.
"Clean up your mess. Lick it all over."
Having no choice, Philippa stuck out her tongue and started licking. I made sure she did a thorough job, feeling her distaste as I made her lick my hairy balls. When my entire cock was glistening with saliva, I made her take the head in her mouth and start sucking while teasing me with her tongue.
I lowered my hands to her budding breasts, moulding and squeezing them and flicking the nipples. I felt her unwanted pleasure, her nipples stiffened and she let out a throaty moan, the vibrations round my cock causing my arousal to grow and my groin to tighten. It would have been so easy and delightful to cum in her cute, hot little mouth but that was not my aim, so I suppressed the urge and pulled out my cock.
"On your hands and knees. Pull your bum cheeks apart."
"No please, anything but that," Philippa pleaded when she realised my target, but I forced her to comply. Leaning forward and taking her weight on her chest, she pulled her bum cheeks apart with both hands, giving easy access to the puckered pink starfish nestling in the middle.
I positioned the head of my cock against her most private portal.
"Push out like you're taking a dump," an unnecessary verbalisation since I compelled her to do it anyway.
Philippa's anal sphincter winked open. I grasped her narrow hips firmly and pushed hard, and slowly my cock sank into her rectum. I pushed slowly but persistently, penetrating deeper and deeper into her dank, fiery depths, until I had two thirds of my length firmly embedded.
My gift affects the conscious mind. I can plant an urge not to breath in your mind and you will stop breathing, but as soon as you lose consciousness your autonomic system takes over again and you'll start breathing again.
Despite my implanted urge to keep pushing out, Philippa's body started instinctively cramping at my volume, producing light, fluttery sensations round my cock before her sphincter clenched firmly round my shaft in a vice-like grip. Again I had to force myself not to cum. I let her rest for a while until she had become accustomed to my volume and the cramping sensations had abated, then I forced her to push out again and resumed my penetration. I felt pressure against the head of my cock as it entered somewhere it was really not intended to go, but apart from some stinging from the stretching of her anal sphincter and some internal bruising as her rectum was stretched, I could feel that Philippa was experiencing no serious ill effects.
Finally I was embedded balls-deep in Philippa's rectum, my belly pressing hard against the cool dry buttocks, such a contrast to her fiery sticky depths. I let Philippa release her bum cheeks, and she pushed herself back up onto her hands and knees, causing me to groan with pleasure at the changing position of my cock inside her tight tunnel. I reached underneath her and seized her pussy firmly with one hand, then implanted an urge for Philippa to do the work. Gently at first she swayed backwards and forwards causing my cock to slide about an inch out of her then slide back in again. With the hand grasping her pussy, I used my fingers to probe between her cunt lips and sought out her hard little button from where it was hiding underneath its hood. Using a fingertip, I gently strummed it like a guitar string. I felt Philippa's arousal mount, and she started crying again, this time with shame that she was getting pleasure from being anally raped.
Philippa speeding up her rocking motion, fucking me more and more frantically, and I continued to keep pace as I strummed her clit. Suddenly every muscle in her body seemed to freeze for an instant before a shuddering orgasm washed over her, producing more delightful clenching sensations round my cock. Using all my willpower I clenched my muscles hard because I didn't want to cum just yet.
The exhausted girl collapsed forwards onto her chest again and I took over the fucking, firmly thrusting in and out of her tight little anus, jolting her body mercilessly with every thrust. I continued strumming Philippa's clit, causing her to instinctively buck and weave her hips in a fruitless attempt to stop the contact since her clit was now so sensitive that the further stimulation was tantamount to pain. I felt my own arousal grow again as inexorably as a volcano about to erupt and I thrust harder and harder into Philippa. Her body stopped fighting my clit strumming and I felt her arousal grow again too. Suddenly I reached my plateau and thrust in as hard and deep as I could, every muscle in my body went rigid and my cock spurted and spurted and spurted deep inside Philippa's rectum. It was the longest, most powerful orgasm of my life. My cock continued throbbing and jerking for about a minute, although only the first half a dozen or so spasms ejaculated any cum. Halfway through my orgasm I felt Philippa go rigid, then her rectal muscles convulsed around my cock as she reached her second orgasm, the delicious sensations prolonging my own pleasure.
Spent, I collapsed panting onto Philippa's back, my weight forcing her to the floor with her knees against her chest. I recovered enough to plant the urge for Philippa to push out, and I carefully extracted my cock from her rectum, coated with my own cum plus occasional flecks of fecal matter. It was still erect, but lacked the hardness necessary for orgasm, something which under normal circumstances I wouldn't have been able to manage for quite some time, having been thoroughly drained of cum.
I rose to my knees, and manually pulled Philippa round to face me. Despite her exhausted condition, I made her get up on her hands and knees again. I waved my erect cock in her face.
"This is going in your cunt next. If you don't lick it absolutely clean, you could catch a nasty infection."
"Please, not there, I'm a virgin," she wheedled, but I planted the urge for her to be silent and to lick my cock.
I compelled her to lick my cock as studiously as before, cleaning it of cum and fecal matter. I could feel she was slightly nauseated by the latter, but fortunately there wasn't very much of it. Eventually my cock was clean of anything apart from fresh saliva. I positioned the exhausted girl on her back with her legs wide apart; she was glad for the chance to rest.
Now came what I think of as a neat trick. I can hook into my own mind and implant urges, and that way I made my erection fully hard and ready to go again. I had to temporarily release Philippa to do it, and if she had known she could have made a bolt for it and probably outrun me, but the comings and goings of mind hooks are undetectable to the victim so she had no idea of her missed opportunity.
I knelt between Philippa's legs, then grasped her ankles and hooked them over my shoulders until her bottom was off the floor and her cunt was at just the right height for my cock. I aimed my cock between Philippa's cunt lips and thrust in hard. Philippa screamed as my cock hit resistance and tore through it. She had been telling the truth, her hymen had been intact.
I belatedly reinserted my hook into Philippa's mind and re-enforced the urge for silence. She sobbed loudly as I grasped her firmly by the hips and drove my cock in the rest of the way. She was hot, tight, and quite wet. Driven by the urge I had implanted in my own mind, I fucked her cunt hard and fast, jolting her hard every time my cock bottomed out against her cervix. I quickly reached orgasm, and my prostate even managed to rustle up enough cum for a couple of squirts before resorting to empty throbs. Still, even that little might have been enough to knock her up.
As I lowered Philippa back onto the carpet, my rapidly deflating cock slipped out of her cunt. It was streaked with blood from her torn hymen with a smear of my cum round the head. I let Philippa speak.
"Bastard," she hissed, and rolled herself into a foetal position.
I sensed that Philippa's immature cunt really hurt from the ruptured hymen and the vigorous fucking by an adult cock, so I let her rest for a while until I got my breath back. I wanted to use girl's fantastic body again but I doubted even an implanted urge could resurrect my flaccid cock this quickly.
I rolled Philippa onto her back again and parted her legs wide. As I knelt between them I saw fear in her eyes that I was going to fuck her aching cunt again. Instead I lowered my head to her pussy, kissed her glistening cunt lips, then licked the length of her pussy, savouring the taste on my tongue. Principally her juices were sweet and syrupy with a strong hint of salt but I also detected a slight tang and a slight metallic taste, the latter probably due to blood from the torn hymen.
Holding her cunt lips apart with my fingers, I lapped up her juices, teasing her hard little button with the tip of my tongue on each stroke. I felt her unwanted arousal growing again.
Philippa came hard, her stomach muscles rippling as the orgasm crashed over her.
My intention had been to teach this young madam a lesson she'd never forget, but I was rapidly becoming smitten by her angelic face, her perfect little body, and her unexpectedly powerful sexual responses. I started mulling over whether this could become more than a one-off.
I continued lapping up Philippa's juices, avoiding her clit for the moment since I knew it would be too sensitive. I felt her growing bewilderment that I was providing her with such unreturned sexual gratification after previously mercilessly raping both her virgin holes.
When I judged that Philippa's clit was receptive to more attention, I resumed including it on my tongue lashes. This time Philippa was more relaxed and she responded by thrusting her hips up at me to increase the pressure. Her arousal grew and grew until she reached orgasm a second time, her whole body going rigid, then rippling and pulsating.
Surprisingly I was enjoying giving oral pleasure to the young girl. I felt like a musician playing an instrument, getting satisfaction from extracting the maximum response from it. I licked Philippa to two more orgasms until my tongue became too tired to continue, although I avoided the temptation to probe her cunt with my tongue because I didn't want to reduce what little cum I had deposited there.
My cock was now semi-hard, and I reckoned I could force one more orgasm out of it. Philippa was lying there in post-orgasmic euphoria and even had a hint of a smile on her face so I had no worries about releasing my mind hooks. I hooked back into my own mind and inserted the urge to fuck her again, my cock immediately springing to full hardness, then I hooked back into Philippa again.
I sensed that Philippa's cunt was still very sore so I decided to use her anus again, employing the same position I found so gratifying before. Philippa's euphoria quickly dissipated as I made her get on her hands and knees, then resting her chest on the carpet, reach round with both hands and pull her bum cheeks wide apart. I made her push out then started to penetrate her pink puckered hole. She winced because the sphincter had been torn slightly and was stinging. Relentlessly I forced my way into Philippa's rectum, finding it easier now from the previous stretching and the added lubrication of my cum deposit. In a relatively short space of time I was balls deep in Philippa's bowels again, and I let her release her bum cheeks so she could use her arms to support herself. I grasped her pussy with my hand again and sought out her clit, ready to resume strumming it.
This time I fucked Philippa's rectum hard and fast, as though fucking her cunt, my belly making slapping noises against her buttocks. I felt her cramping, but her discomfort was offset by the growing pleasure from my tormenting her clit. My implanted urge meant I wasn't going to last long either and soon we were both in the throes of orgasm, my cock throbbing away deep inside Philippa, massaged by her pulsating bowel walls. I'm not sure whether I managed to produce any cum this time, but there was a mild burning sensation in my prostate afterwards.
As I came down from my orgasmic high, I realised the hand clamped on Philippa's pussy was soaking wet and a smell of ammonia filled the air; Philippa had wet herself. That reminded me that my own bladder was full from all the coffee I had drunk earlier. I forced Philippa to push out, and withdrew my cock until just the head was lodged in her rectum. Relaxing my bladder muscles, I felt my stream surge up my urethra and gush into Philippa's bowels. I moved my hand from Philippa's pussy to her stomach, feeling it bulge as my urine filled her bowels.
When my bladder was empty, I extracted the head of my cock from Philippa's rectum in one quick motion while compelling her to clench her sphincter tight behind me. I made her stay there on her hands and knees, not moving and not saying anything, her previously flat stomach bulging and her rectum cramping at the volume of pee, her torn sphincter stinging mercilessly where a small amount of my pee had leaked out.
I delved into Philippa's backpack for the wad of toilet tissue. Using somewhat less than half the tissues, in order to leave plenty for Philippa, I wiped my hand and cleaned my cock as best I could, but even when both were dry my hand still smelled and my cock felt sticky. Since they were already stained I put my jeans on but left off my jockeys. If I went to the mall restrooms I could use the solitary disabled toilet with its private washbasin to wash my cock before driving home.
As Philippa watched me warily, strain showing in her face as she clenching her muscles against her twin torments, I continued to rummage through her backpack. I found her panties; although white cotton they appeared not to be part of a matching set with a bra.
"I'll keep these as a souvenir," I gloated, stuffing them in a pocket.
Resuming my search of her backpack, I found Philippa's opaque white tights, the skirt she had stolen, then at the bottom I found her schoolbooks. I quickly rifled through them and hit pay dirt, a loose-leaf diary with Philippa's full name, address and phone number on the first page. I could feel Philippa's anguish as I ripped out the page, folded it, and put it in my pocket.
The find swung a decision for me. Despite the huge risk I would be taking, I decided I wanted to enjoy the girl's small, perfect body again. In fact next time I was going to go hell-for-leather to knock her up. It would be fun doing it, and the responsibility of pregnancy might teach her a lesson. I tried to imagine what Philippa would look like with a stomach swollen with pregnancy.
I knew that if I tried to stay hooked into Philippa's mind, I would lose her when I next fell asleep. I wasn't sure whether implanted urges would have much effect without the presence of mind hooks, but as thoroughly and deeply as I could I implanted two strong urges in Philippa's mind. The first was not to tell anyone the truth about what had transpired here this afternoon and the second was to return at the same time the following week.
"See you next week, same time, same place. And don't make me come and find you," I warned, tapping the pocket where I had placed Philippa's personal details.
Philippa sobbed with despair as she realised that her ordeal wasn't going to end with that afternoon.
I left the building site the same way I had entered it, and made my way back to the mall. Less than an hour had passed since I had left there and I had orgasmed three times, something of a record for me. Once at the mall I released Philippa's impulsions to hold my pee and not move. I sensed her scampering somewhere before her grateful release and I realised she had evacuated my pee somewhere other than the lounge with the half- decent carpet.
I kept my mind hooks in Philippa until late that evening, after which I was reasonably certain she wouldn't tell her parents what had happened. I smiled to myself as I released them; I was looking forward to next Friday.
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