[LtBroccoli]

One of Us


Author's Note:  This story contains graphic descriptions of violence, sexual assault, and poor puns.  Viewer discretion is advised.

This story was originally written for The Black Van as part of their bi-monthly contest in March 2023.



Crucible… a situation of severe trial, or in which different elements interact, leading to the creation of something new.

Release… the action or process of releasing or being released.

Awakening…coming into existence or awareness.



I am a member of an endangered species. Homo Superior.  At least that’s what we will be called once our existence becomes common knowledge.  Greater Man.

What am I?  I’m a telepath.  Teep, mindreader, dreamwalker, mystic, whatever you want to call my kind, I can read and change minds, as well as move some objects.  I am one of maybe 80 fully capable teeps on the planet.  I’ve spent the last couple decades studying and researching where we came from and how we came to be.  Long story short, about 1 in a hundred million becomes a teep.  Though many have the genes, it takes a special combination of events to trigger the change.  Take one part latent telepath, one part shock, one part overactive hormones, two parts trauma, throw together and mix. 

That’s what this chapter of my memoirs is about.  How I experimented with triggering that change.  Could I play god and change the odds?

Brief background.  My “coming out”, to borrow a phrase from the time, came when I was a teen and killed the man who I thought was my father.  During a heated argument I went into his mind for the first and last time.  I saw how much he hated me, hated his family, and how he dreamed of me dying.  I used my powers for the first real time, ordering him to die.  An embolism later, and he lay dead at my feet.  My mother died a couple years later, but not before divulging who my real father was.  He was a teep who made a name for himself in Hollywood, using his powers to amass a fortune and fuck anything that moved.  I met him, learned from him, and eventually bested him.  But that is a tale for another day.  By this point of the story, decades had passed and I had transferred bodies a couple times before reverting back to my original one after some much needed work.  Being a teep puts a lot of stress on the body, so after some cancer scares, gene therapy, and a bad case of nearsightedness was fixed, I was ready to put my research to the test.

To create a telepath, one must be awakened, released through their own crucible.  It takes fear, pain, love, and sadness to activate the latent talents within.  Having the genes is not enough, they must be triggered.  It’s epigenetics.  But instead of waiting and hoping that nature would take it’s course, I gave it a kickstart.

It started one night at a high school musical of all places.  Something drew me, other than them performing Hamilton.  I was bored that week, and figured I could have some fun.  Worst case, I end up starting an orgy with the cast and crew, or I’d find some nice piece of ass to blow me Non-Stop.

Get it?  Nevermind. 

As the show started and I was about to make the actress playing Maria Schulyer have a wardrobe malfunction, I pinged the crowd.  It’s SOP to send out a telepathic ping, like a submarine using sonar.  I was shocked when I received a response.  After some focusing, I found the source.

Her name was Megan, a beautiful redhead in her early 20’s.  The air around her was different, it had a familiar taste.  She was a latent, or sleeping teep.  For every active teep, there’s a thousand latents.  They have the ability to turn on, but it’s rare.  I scanned the people around her, nothing came up.  I learned a long time ago it’s dangerous to scan a teep or a latent.  They will know you’re traipsing around in their mind, even if it’s just a weird feeling.  I watched her through her girlfriend’s eyes after getting everything I needed from her in a few seconds.  Name, age, address, what she tastes like, moaner or screamer, all the important shit.  The girlfriend was named Maya.  Both were 19, they were “roommates” at college but neither had come out yet.  Secret lovers, sitting a few rows behind Maya’s family as they watched her younger brother portray Aaron Burr.  Megan had the nicer body, slightly bigger tits, and auburn hair and brown eyes while Maya was a brunette with green eyes with a slightly smaller chest but a firmer tummy.

As tempting as it was to drive Maya completely wild in front of everyone, I had a new mission and purpose for her.  I sat co-pilot in her mind as I made a sound of a hawk in the area.  Only a teep could hear it but a latent would know something was wrong.  Preservation instinct, I assume.  As I made the sound and sent it flying across the auditorium, I saw Megan’s head turn through Maya’s eyes, following the noise.  I knew right then and there that she was one of us, she just didn’t know it yet.

I spent the rest of the night doing as much research as I could on Megan and Maya, without going into Megan’s mind.  I couldn’t risk it, not so soon.  I took the details I gleaned from Maya, her family, and the people sitting near them and worked out everything I could.  I sent this info to my lead henchman Fernando and had him get the gears in motion to form a cult.

Yes, I have henchmen.  Or henchpeople if preferred.  Some of them are women or non-binary.  And what fun is it to be a being of great power without having a cult?  Cults can be very useful from time to time.  What’s the difference?  I match up to 5% of a henchman’s pay into their 401(k), cults are like interns, cheap and expendable.

Anyway, I sat through the rest of the play doing research and ostensibly watching high schoolers do a decent job of telling Hamilton’s story, waiting for the play to end.  As I figured, Maya wasn’t a teep in any way, but Megan likely was.  Maya took a DNA test and while she did have a gluten allergy, she couldn’t read minds.  Megan’s parents both took ancestry tests and combined they had the markers but Megan so far had avoided it.  No matter, I would get her DNA soon.  Sounds creepy, don’t it?

As the show ended, I blended into the background, just a shadow.  Only technology could see me, and even that was suspect.  I had skills with that, too, but rarely needed to use it anymore.  Besides, it’s much easier to convince someone that I wasn’t standing right in front of them or have them erase the footage than it is to block my image from showing up on a disk drive or tape or erasing said footage myself.  I sat back and listened to everyone as I focused in on Maya and Megan.  Megan’s parents were out of town, and the two were going back there to have sex if they could get away from Maya’s parents.  For some reason, Maya’s mom was almost eager to have Maya out of the house tonight.  The dad was suspicious until I planted a command that the both of them were really horny and the boy was going to go to a party anyway.  Once everyone said their goodbye’s I followed Maya and Megan at a discreet distance through the parking lot to Maya’s car.  Idiot didn’t remember her license plate. 

It wasn’t hard to follow them back to Megan’s house, but I stayed at a distance.  Fernando already had eyes on her house from a drone parked in a tree in the backyard.  A little hacking on my part and I was inside her WiFi.  A moment later I was watching her with every camera in the house, including the one in her smart TV that she doesn’t know is there.

Short tangent.  I have another talent.  I can control random numbers over a computer network.  It would be useless if every form of encryption wasn’t based on matching up random numbers.  I read the incoming encrypted packets, change the key to a known value on one end, then I’m in.  From there, it comes down to being a geek with extraordinary talents.  This works out great because I need a line of sight to use my powers, but that can be overridden if I can maintain a network connection and can see the target.

I watched the young couple enter the house and make their way up to Megan’s bedroom.  The two were alone, so no need to be quiet or keep the lights off, at Maya’s insistence.  Not like Maya needed much encouragement, she loved how Megan looked.  It didn’t take long before the two lesbians were in passion’s throes and I safely entered Megan’s mind.  A teep is most vulnerable during sex, also their most powerful.  It’s a weird dichotomy.  I used Maya’s tongue on her clit to distract Megan so I could do a deep dive into her mind.  I kept her stimulated but unable to cum until I was done in her mind, but then she would just cum over and over all night.  That was also part of my plan.  I rode through her mind as Maya ate her out.

What I found was glorious.  She’d always been sensitive to other’s feelings and had premonitions about major things.  A couple times, she got out of sticky situations by thinking about it, but never thought she could really read minds.  Her greatest fear at this young age was watching those she love suffer, and being violated.

I hate to say it, but this was what I was looking for.

After taking what I needed, I removed the blocker keeping her from cumming and watched Megan shake and writhe under Maya’s ministrations.  They went at it for a couple hours, not knowing what came over them.  As Megan passed out, Maya had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, get 2 q-tips, and swab the inside of Megan’s pussy with one and her mouth with the other.  A little reinforcement from my end kept Megan asleep during this.  Then the young brunette couldn’t help but go downstairs and meet a stranger at the backdoor and hand him those q-tips.  After locking the door, she went back upstairs, shook her head, and wondered why she was standing there instead of lying in bed.

With the technology at the time, it took a couple weeks to get the results, even with my resources.  But the answer confirmed my suspicion.

Megan was a latent telepath.  Now, I needed to release and awaken her.

The event was planned for near their school, on some land one of my former body’s owned.  It was useful because it was the middle of nowhere, only a small cabin and 100 acres of forest.  The cult members arrived, and I chose one white man in his 50’s to be their leader.  These dozen men were easily duped and trained to thinking they would gain real power by worshipping me.  They were greedy, selfish men that I programmed over time.  They thought that these girls were a sacrifice to achieve their means.  What they didn’t know was that they were the sacrifice to bring out her power.

It was Friday night, late in the spring semester.  The young women were in the midst of finals and looking to release some steam at a party.  They’d never make it.  Instead, a black van rolled up beside them and grabbed them off of the street.  Fernando picked 3 of his best for the job and had them subdued before they knew what happened.  The van was registered to one of the cultists who would be dead by morning.  The crew grabbed another pair of girls, two blondes looking for a good time, as a bonus.  I ordered them not to harm Megan or Maya, but they could do what they wished to the others as long as Megan didn’t see it, just in case she awakened.  She could, and did, here these other little freshmen get raped next to them.  When the van stopped, the door opened and one of the henchmen poked Maya and Megan with a light sedative.  Nothing much, just enough to keep her groggy for two hours as they were transported and delivered to the ceremonial location.

Megan awoke to a smelling salt under her nose, hanging by her tied wrists to a wooden beam.  Her red hair hung loose, and her white sundress was in place, but her shoes were gone.  She screamed when she saw Maya, tied down to stakes in the ground, spread eagle as a pentagram of candles and goat-head markers surrounded them.  A spotlight shone on Maya, who had a weird thing in her mouth.  Megan couldn’t make it out.  Maya’s grey dress was still on, but not for much longer as one man in robes and a goat mask stepped forth with a knife.  He said something in Latin, then repeated it over and over as he sliced Maya’s dress off, followed by her bra and panties, leaving her nude to a crowd that Megan couldn’t quite make out.  The leader said another line in Latin, and this time everyone repeated, including a voice right behind Megan.  She freaked out when the leader said the last line in English, “Commence with the Sacrifice of Virility.”

One man stepped forward, wearing the same robes but a smaller mask.  He stood over Maya, and doffed his robes, showing that he was naked and spotting a rather ominous hard-on.  Maya screamed but couldn’t make any words as the man bent, made a prayer, then knelt between her legs.  At the same time, Megan felt hands on her hips pushing her sundress up grabbing at her panties, pulling them to the side.  A hard, meaty stick worked it’s way between her legs and up to her womanly folds, where no man had ever been.  A word from the leader, and she felt a push and thrust into her, followed by pain she never knew, and screaming from her lover on the floor as she too was violated, taking her virginity as well.

The men fucked the two women as Megan screamed and begged, pleading at first for them to stop, then for them to not cum inside of them, and then to not hurt them any further.  On the floor, the first man stopped, then was replaced by another, then another.  Megan’s rapist finally came, ignoring her pleas on not blasting his seed inside her.  That’s when she noticed their speech had degenerated from high-class and Latin to lewd and crude.  They talked about “taking turns on the dyke whores” and “making these bitches bleed.”  That was my work, to be honest. 

Megan was so focused on what they were saying she only noticed the next man behind her when he was dead set on “popping her ass cherry.”  She didn’t know it yet, but she heard him think it a moment before he touched her.  He didn’t use any lube aside from spitting on his cock once.  She felt the lust pour off her rapist before she felt his touch.  As her cheeks were spread and her sphincter speared, she felt pain she never knew before.  Pain and sadness and humiliation and fear.

And total fucking rage.

Like a broken pressure cooker about to explode, I knew it was going to get ugly quick.  I prepared for the blast, protecting myself and Maya from what was to come. She could feel and hear and see all of their perverted desires, how they planned to torture them to death but not before breaking every fiber of their being and bone in their bodies.

It started as her yelling “STOP!”  It morphed into a primal scream, filled with every emotion.  The scream only lasted 6 six seconds, but it was one of pure power.  There was no control to her cries, no targets, just a desire to stop these men.  Well, she stopped them all right.  All twelve of the cultists dropped dead, their hearts immediately stopping.  But that wasn’t the worst of it.  The scream shattered their ears, ruptured the soft tissue in their nose, mouths, and throats, and caused the little sacks of liquid called their eyes to rupture like water balloons.  If that wasn’t bad enough, their cartilage locked up and superheated, fusing their limbs in the position they were in when they suffered.  To make matters worse, Megan’s scream liquefied their brains. 

A quick telepathic scan confirmed that they were all dead.  The only three left alive were myself, Megan, and Maya.  The deathly silence was only broken by Maya’s terrified bleats as her last rapist’s brains dripped out of the several holes in his head.

Megan was in a panic, not sure what happened.  She still had to extricate herself from the sodomite in her and untie herself while Maya worked herself into a fast approaching combination panic and heart attack.

That’s when I made my presence known.

I approached Megan, clapping slowly, making sure to not let her see my mouth.  “Well done, Megan, well done.  Here, let me.”  With a quick move of TK, I removed the corpse that was sodomizing her and the one currently dripping on Maya.  Then, with a subtle suggestion, Maya stopped crying and went to sleep.  This left Megan and I alone to think and talk.  Which, when you’re a telepath, are usually the same thing.

“Who are you?  What are you?  How?”  The tone in her voice was a mix of every emotion, but the fear mixed with curiosity peaked at the end.  She looked me over, dressed in a navy 3 piece suit, looking like I just walked out of a boardroom.  Everything seemed normal, except for the mask.  I could read her read the room.  When she looked around the room, panic took over again.  “OHMYGODARETHEY-“

“Dead?  Yes, and you killed them.  Quite impressive for the first time using your powers.”  I said with my mind.  I stepped closer, leaning in front of Megan, face to face.

“Powers?  What-“

“What am I talking about?  Well, first of all…” I said, removing the mask.  My mouth never moved during the conversation.  I projected my thoughts just loud enough for her to pick them up over of the din of the ever-present background noises.  “I’m not talking.  I’m thinking this entire conversation.  You are reading my thoughts because you are a telepath, like me.” 

Megan shook her head back and forth.  I thought to her again.  “Before you say no, this can’t be, this is impossible, blah blah blah, Think back to how many times your ass was saved because you knew just the right thing to say or do, or how well you are at reading people, or the occasional times that you thought you heard someone say something behind your back, just to realize they didn’t but you caught them red handed.  At those times, you used your powers, but only for a split second.  This…this is your awakening.  I’m sorry it had to be like this, but it takes more than DNA to make a telepath, it takes all of the emotions working at once to light the candle, and that comes from trauma.”  The realization that all of this, all she and her lover just went through, was something I set up, was enough for her to try to kill me.  I blocked her attempt like an adult blocks a swing from a child.  “Go ahead, try to kill me like you did the dozen men laying on the floor if it will help you feel better.  But once you’re done trying to microwave my brain, do you want me to untie you or show you how to untie yourself?  I have a lot to teach you, and we don’t have all night.”  Megan relented from her attack as I used TK to grab the ropes and taught her how to grab at objects with her mind.  I sent her memories of using this skill, like an immersive how-to video.  Eventually she grabbed the rope with her mind and pulled, but wasn’t able to twist the ropes.  “That's okay, you’ll get the hang of this with practice.”

After getting untied, she ran over to Maya, who was sleeping soundly.  “She’s out for the night.  How this goes for her is up to you.  Let her remember everything if you wish, overwrite this trauma with a pleasant memory, change it to something different, erase it altogether, it’s your call.  I’ll show you how to do all of it.”  Megan knelt there for a moment, trying to take everything in.  Just a moment ago, she was ready to kill me.  Now, she was ready to listen.

“How did she survive?”  Megan asked, wiping the gunk off of her lover’s body.

“I protected her.”  I thought to Megan, and she looked at me.  “You are raw, untrained, undisciplined, yet your power is undeniable.  You couldn’t target your blast fine enough to avoid her.”  Megan thought to ask something, but I interrupted her.  “You killing your lover would be too much for you.  Besides, how would you explain any of this to the authorities?  These losers deserved what they got, but Maya, she’s didn’t.  Now you get to decide how to proceed.”

I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she would select.

“She shouldn’t remember any of this.  But she’ll know something was off.  She’s never had sex with a man before, she’ll know that something happened to her.”  Megan said, holding Maya’s hand while her friend slept.  I sat down next to Megan.

“There’s an old saying.  Plant a kernel of truth inside of a lie.  It makes it easier to swallow.  Let me show you.”

Working with Megan, we planted one hell of a whopper in Maya’s mind.  There was no kidnapping, no rape by cultists, no mass murder.  Instead, they went to a different house party than the one they planned to go to.  The men looked older, and at some point Maya and Megan got talked into taking Molly.  One thing led to another, and they started fooling around with a couple guys, then it turned into several.  Before they knew it, they were upstairs in some guys bed having a train ran on them.  After, they laid there in a mess until they showered where they were horny for each other.  They tried to dress to go home.  Maya’s dress was ruined, so she borrowed some clothes to get home.  One of the guys drove them home.  She couldn’t quite place the face, but she was certain she’d see him again.  They went up to their dorm room quite late and went to bed.

We planted this memory into Maya.  I used the henchmen as some of the guys.  I showed Megan how to modify memories, and create blockers.  We had a lot of work to do, but first matter was to get these women home.  We cleaned off then dressed Maya, then loaded them into an SUV, along with Fernando, myself, and one other.  I would block any memories of us being there.  All anyone would see or remember would be Megan walking Maya back to their room.

The next morning, Maya woke up with a splitting headache and some weird pains, but remembered how the night went.  She partied way too hard and actually had sex with multiple men!  She couldn’t believe she could ever get that drunk.  For her part, Megan seemed distant for the day, like she had a lot on her mind.  Which, now that she was in a dorm hall hearing all of her neighbors thoughts for the first time, was accurate.

The semester ended a week later, and finals were a pain for everyone but Megan.  Once she could focus on who she wanted to listen to, she aced every test.  She accepted a job working for a company I owned, and we spent the rest of the summer honing her skills and learning how to be a teep in a mundane world.  She was a quick learner and study, mostly using her powers for good but did have a naughty streak.

But those are stories for another time.

[LtBroccoli]

Part 2:  Second Chair

Author’s Note: This is a fictional story that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic depictions of sex, violence, sexual assault and rape, bondage, abuse, and making light of eating disorders. The author does not condone any of these actions, especially making fun of eating disorders. If you or someone you know suffers from them, please seek help.

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I am a member of an endangered species. Homo Superior. At least that’s what we will be called once our existence becomes common knowledge. Greater Man.

What am I? I’m a telepath. Teep, mindreader, dreamwalker, mystic, whatever you want to call my kind, I can read and change minds, as well as move some objects. I am one of maybe 80 fully capable teeps on the planet. I’ve spent the last couple decades studying and researching where we came from and how we came to be. Long story short, about 1 in a hundred million becomes a teep. Though many have the genes, it takes a special combination of events to trigger the change. Take one part latent telepath, one part shock, one part overactive hormones, two parts trauma, throw together and mix.

That’s what this chapter of my memoirs is about. How I experimented with triggering that change. Could I play god and change the odds?

—————————————————————————————————————————

As I mentioned in the last chapter, my most recent attempt proved successful in activating Megan’s powers. Though she was none too pleased with the methods of her awakening, she was even more distressed about what these new gifts meant. Apparently a gang rape and mass murder was less of a mindfuck to her than seeing and hearing everyone’s deepest thoughts around her. This proved especially alarming when she would catch the stray sexual thoughts about her from her brother or father. Hell, most of the times they don’t even know they’re thinking it, or of they do it’s just a fleeting glance. One of the first things a teep learns is to block out the stray thoughts, especially from those closest to you. Nothing freaks out a teep like the first time they overhear a loving family member wonder if they’re a moaner or a screamer.

I worked with Megan every day over the next few months. She told her family that she earned an internship with a media company and would spend a lot of time working there over the summer. That part was true, I offered her a spot with one of my companies to get her away and help her hone her skills. She had to embellish a few parts, like planting suggestions about how much she wanted this position or how she told everyone about this over the last few months. One of her first lessons, it is much easier to gaslight someone when they want to believe what’s being told, and a little suggestion can actually help the receiver create their own memory of the event. Before too long, everyone close to her was on board with the internship, except her girlfriend Maya. They decided to make a long distance relationship work. At least that’s what Megan hoped. She didn’t want to use her powers on Maya again, not after the incident.

After spending the summer working with Megan, I discovered that she was something even rarer than a telepath, she was a genuinely kind and loving woman. She refused to use her powers to hurt anyone unless it helped a greater cause, and would often go out of her way to help complete strangers if it meant it made someone happy. One example was when she stopped a mugging on the subway by planting the suggestions in the would-be assailant’s minds to randomly break into a song and dance number from West Side Story, even though none of them had ever seen it. By the time the train ride ended, everyone in the car was dancing and singing as though it was the most normal thing. Vastly different than what I would’ve done, which would be try to find a reason to spare his life, then when I was disappointed I’d give him an aneurysm and let him die on the train. She chooses happiness and life every time.

Which is why I was so shocked when a couple months into our training sessions in a local non-Starbucks coffee shop, I felt so much anger and rage flow from her it caught me off guard and I was getting mad. By that point, everyone around us in the coffee shop was pissed off about something. I haven’t felt anything this hostile since that time I played with some Q followers and convinced them that one of their leaders was replaced by a lizard person. Megan was pissed at something. No, someone. And she was so mad, she inadvertently projected her anger across the entire store. I quickly sent her a mental message to calm down while I got the rest of the patrons back under control, and then I saw the target of her anger.

Veronica Kilshire.

The flood of emotions overtook Megan and she projected everything at once. They went to high school together and both graduated the same year. Veronica was a straight-A student, overachiever, and general pain in the ass. She was very petite and very skinny. If I were to guess, which I didn’t thanks to the power of mindreading, she was 4’9” and 90 pounds. Competitive gymnast by day, nerdy musician by night who played a variety of instruments while studying for a STEM degree. All of this came at me in a heartbeat, along with the hatred and jealousy Megan felt for this walking box of paperclips. Megan was too busy glaring at Veronica to even notice that she just sent waves of hatred around the store.

Something I’ve noticed in my time dancing around inside of people’s heads is that it’s the nicest people who feel hatred and anger the most. Horrible people are used to negativity, it’s like a warm blanket to them. But for a kind soul like Megan, it’s like a blast furnace opening up. They’re also the first to explore the depths of their hatred.

Veronica noticed Megan and came over, smiling and waving. She was a tiny thing, and looked even skinnier than 90 pounds. I’ve seen elementary school kids bigger than her, and more developed, too. Her dirty blonde hair was straight and came down to her elbows. She wore a red poofy hat that didn’t go with anything, a pair of jean shorts that looked big on her but were likely a size 0 or 1, and two white shirts. The first was a button-down overshirt and underneath that was a polo-like shirt that plunged lower than expected on her. But to be honest, it’s not like she has much in that department anyway.

I sat back and watched their interaction, only briefly introducing myself. Veronica played it nice, putting in a very cheery tone that belied her distrust, jealousy, and hurt around Megan. Megan was as nice and polite as she could be, even though I could feel the seething hatred come off of her. But what she did next straight up shocked me. Megan planted a mental command in Veronica’s mind that she would clear her schedule this weekend and be ready for any plans Megan would send her. Then they talked and exchanged numbers, and Megan made a brief mention about maybe going out on a boating trip this weekend and that she was invited and she’d send her the details. Veronica seemed genuinely pleased. The two girls said their goodbyes, then parted with Veronica leaving the shop.

Megan flashed me with the memory of when their relationship went sour. They were friendly throughout school up until tryouts for orchestra senior year. They were both premier violin players and were competing for first chair. Whoever won first chair would almost certainly earn a full-ride scholarship. That should cause a competition, but Veronica was an all-state gymnast and was invited to try out at nationals, so she already had a full ride to the school of her choice. Plus, her parents are connected. Her dad and stepmom work for a Europaen government, and her stepdad is a doctor in a very specialized field that works with important people all around the world. Before the competition the girls struck a deal that if Veronica won, she would decline first chair and let Megan have it. The morning of the tryout, everything changed and Veronica refused to honor the deal. Megan settled for second chair and gave up violin soon after. Meanwhile, Veronica went to Cornell on a full athletic scholarship. Megan had to settle for her third choice because she couldn’t afford the first two without that help.

Then Megan flashed me an image of what she wants to do. She wants to turn Veronica into her own personal sex slave. Not that she found her very attractive, but sexy enough to want to fuck. But the purpose here was to humiliate her, dominate her, break her and mold her into something new, something useful. She asked me how to program a sex slave, and I showed her what she was looking for. I gave her memories from my past and some I stole from my biological father before I eventually killed him. That’s a long story. Anyway, I showed how to gain and maintain control, how to set mental blockers to keep her from talking or disobeying, and how to use her own psyche against her. It was quite a load of debauchery that she would find both distasteful and alluring. I could feel her arousal from across the table, and we were both clothed in a coffee shop. I also thought to her that this was her mission. I was only along for assistance, and to give Skinny V some well-deserved dick.

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Saturday morning arrived, and Veronica came to the pier dressed in a strapless blue and grey dress that tied around her neck. It didn’t do much to help her figure, but nothing really could do that. Her swimsuits and such were in a little gym bag she carried with her. Megan looked absolutely fabulous in a very light white sundress that worked well with her pale skin and dark red hair. I could feel a tinge of jealousy come off of Veronica in regards to Megan’s body, especially her full breasts and amazing ass. I was dressed in a linen shirt and respectable shorts along with boat shoes. It was one of my boats after all. Everything was going to plan, right up until Veronica’s stepsister showed up. I don’t think Megan knew this was happening, either. She was a cute brunette with a very nice body, at least a C-cup bosom and long wavy hair. This new woman wore a strapless floral patterned sundress and wedge sandals.

Megan and I shared a series of thoughts quicker than we could ever talk. That’s one advantage of being a telepath. In the time it took Veronica to introduce this new woman as her stepsister Taryn, I formulated a plan, pulled up a related memory that I shared with Megan, gave her instructions on how to proceed while doing a surface scan of all three of them. Veronica was mad at Taryn for coming along and at her mother for forcing her to bring her. There was a huge black spot in her heart for both Taryn and her mother. Taryn was glad to spend some time with Ronnie as she called her, and was jealous of the attention their mother paid to her. Taryn had just turned 18 and was starting her senior year in a few weeks. She was a little upset when Ronnie told her to clear her weekend if she wanted to go, and was excited when their mother made her older sister bring her. Where Veronica clearly views Taryn as her stepsister, Taryn sees the tiny older woman as her sister. That would be something I would explore later.

If Taryn only knew what was in store, then she might’ve fought harder to spend the weekend at home or with her boyfriend.

All of this communication took place in a few seconds. Megan went through introductions and sent a subtle suggestion that this could be a long trip, even the whole weekend, and cell phones might not work on the island. Veronica sent a text to her mom then shut off her phone while Taryn texted her boyfriend that she’ll be back in a day or so. A little back and forth and the women were on the boat. I introduced myself as Kenneth. I think that was my name at the time for most purposes. Don’t quote me on that, though. I’ve been so many people over the years it gets kind of muddled and individuality becomes hard to maintain. Again, a story for another time.

We decided to spring our trap on Veronica in two ways, one of them after reaching our destination, a nearby island I liked to frequent, mainly because it was mine. It was relatively quiet and off the beaten path, but did see it’s fair share of action. The tourists didn’t know about it but the rich and powerful did. Which, by the way, included me. It has become a popular place among a chosen few in circles of influence and power. Nothing helps a starlet unwind like being able to get fucked like a whore with no paparazzi around.

The second part of the trap would take place just as soon as we were an hour into our trip, which was coming up soon. But first, a little dive into the women’s sexual memories. Taryn was pretty normal, one of the popular girls who only had sex with committed boyfriends. Pretty vanilla for the most part. Veronica…wow, I should not have gone there. She wasn’t a virgin, and it wasn’t by choice. Well, maybe her coach’s or team doctor’s choice. And seeing the mother’s role in it… Fucked up. Pretty sure that pimping out your daughter to the judges to guarantee a better score is some kind of ethics violation. But both young women were experienced. That helped, since neither of them were virgins and there’d be no extra difficulties with the next part of the plan.

Since this was Megan’s plan, she was in charge. Veronica was sitting on the deck, looking out at the ocean, starting her third hard seltzer of the last hour. She was going to feel it soon. Taryn sipped on hers before going below decks because she “forgot something.” That was when Megan sent Veronica a mental command to chug her drink, then stand up and walk over to the railing looking over the edge of the yacht. Veronica was in a daze as the next instructions told her to tie her hands into the bindings. Megan, who had stripped down by this point, secured the wrists tightly. After Taryn returned with Megan’s strap-on, the buxom redhead put it on, then released her control over Veronica and Taryn. I kept hold of Taryn’s mind, preventing her from helping her stepsister.

Veronica screamed at her predicament and tried to fight Megan off, but couldn’t coordinate her legs. Megan slapped the tiny woman across the face, called her a selfish whore, then ripped her dress down, exposing titties that barely met the definition. She then propped Veronica’s ass up on a chair as she grabbed Veronica’s thong and ripped it off. She fucked the gymnast, her own spit the only lubrication at first. Veronica cried and screamed, begging Taryn for help. All her sister could do was watch.

Watch and play with herself. Taryn was horrified at what she did as she watched her sister’s rape, rubbing her tits and pulling them out to play with them while she spread her legs and fingered herself. I twisted her words from wanting to help Ronnie to “Fuck Ronnie, make the little bitch scream, make that little cunt eat my cunt.” The words horrified both of the girls.

As much as I enjoyed watching, I wanted a piece of them, too. I figured I would start with Veronica. After asking Megan if she was ready to switch, I sent a command to Taryn to strip. God, she was hot as fuck. In the brief moment that it took her to take off her dress, Megan was out of Ronnie and walking over. There was no respite for the gymnast as I took my place and fucked one of the tightest pussies I’ve ever had. And her tears just made it so erotic. I didn’t last long, as after a few minutes I pulled out and shoved my dick in her mouth and came down her throat. A little command to not bite and swallow kept me safe. She fell out of the chair and cried. I made some snide comment about her exceeding her calorie count for the day by swallowing my cum.

I rested for a moment as Megan fucked Taryn good, then took off the strap-on and made Taryn and then Veronica eat her out. By this point I was ready to go again and decided to fuck Taryn while sending her commands to fingerbang her sister while she ate out Megan. That progressed to fisting as Veronica had no choice but to eat out Megan and cry into her pussy.

After I busted a nut on Taryn’s face, I made Veronica clean her up. This led Megan to forcing the stepsisters to put on a little show for us, making them 69 with each other. Megan didn’t let them stop until they each made the other cum twice. We then wrapped that session up with me fucking Veronica in the ass and after I came, Megan pissed on her. That’s not normally my thing, but she’ll do her.

Now, do you know what one of the greatest things about being a telepath is? It’s the ability to overwrite and change memories. So something that is horribly traumatic like a bisexual gang rape and being sodomized with forced incest gets wiped out and replaced with frivolity and drinking and pleasant memories. The trauma gets buried beneath so many blockers that nothing can resurface, and on the tiny chance it does, they can’t do or say anything without me releasing them. The most they’ll feel, if I so choose to let them, is a vague feeling that something happened. I know it sounds crazy, but do you have any clue how many times I’ve done this? I’ve fucked and raped countless models and actresses on this boat on the way to my island. How do you think Big Bang Theory stayed on the air for so long? Shit, do you have any clue how many times I’ve banged that chick from The Thundermans on this boat? I was afraid I was gonna give her permanent brain damage.

I let Megan do the heavy lifting since these were her soon to be slaves. I spotted her since this was her first time. She looked deep into Taryn’s eyes, then sent her a string of commands that translated to sit down, shut up, stop crying, be calm, listen. After repeating the same thing with Veronica, she put blockers around the rapes, only to retrieved upon command from one of us and put in some pleasant memories in their place. Basic ones like staring at the sunshine and lounging around, nothing too fancy. She then instructed each girl to take a shower below decks and change into their swimsuits as we’d be arriving soon. They wouldn’t notice nor care about nudity on the boat for the rest of the trip, and would feel relaxed once we docked. Veronica went first, followed by Taryn. Megan and I both dressed in swimsuits. I wore a basic pair of swimming shorts while she put one a white bikini top and black bottoms. I swear, if she wasn’t my protege…

We docked at the pier on the far side of my private island. Yes, I own a private island. It’s protected by the best seafaring police force in the world, the United States Navy. It’s one of the perks of being as wealthy and powerful as I am. I have a villa and the whole shebang, along with staff that I’ve personally trained and programmed. I’ve had a quarter century to acquire my empire, and I’m just getting started. I’m one of maybe 10 teeps living in North America, and I trained half of them, including Megan. It’s not hard to work one’s way up the food chain, acquiring secret information along the way. I made my first billion after a run-in with Steve Ballmer in the late 90’s when he was worried about how some company named Oracle was getting into the database game and how he was thankful for Steve Jobs coming back to Apple. This was before any of this hit the news and I decided to use this along with some well-timed IPO’s to never need to work again. Of course, that hasn’t stopped me in the slightest. I still like to dabble in things from time to time, but right now my focus is on making sure my species survives and thrives.

Once off the yacht, the girls got off and frolicked for a bit. Taryn looked spectacular in a pink and white floral bikini that showed off her great tits and 6-pack abs. Megan was a pale ginger beauty, and even Veronica looked pretty good. She wore a tiny bikini that she probably had to pick from the tweens section of a designer store, given the cartoonish characters on her swimsuit. I leaned back and watched as they had fun. My villa was visible in the distance, but still a little walk. I chose this landing spot because it is quietest place in the country and separating someone from their support network is vital when making a slave.

Speaking of slaves, I sent a mental message along to the servant who arrived over the crest of the hill overlooking the beach. ‘Prepare the training protocol, Megan is in charge of these two, they are hers.’ A simple acknowledgement was all I sensed but was all I needed.

The main difference between what we do here and what some piece of filth human trafficker does is that my slaves still function in society, and that no one knows what we’ve done. These girls won’t end up in some labor camp in Panama or as some cheap wholes in a Tijuana brothel. They serve as our toys, but are otherwise normal. The best slaves don’t know they are slaves, and after this weekend, Taryn and Veronica will be the best slaves. The best part, we didn’t have to abduct them, they came willingly.

The process starts with some surface scans and telekinesis, toying with them and playing with them, seeing what arouses them. Then I… well we, follow those currents into their minds to perform a deep scan and get their entire sexual history, what turns them on, disgusts them, etc. Following that, we bombard them with their most erotic memories as we begin the programming, mixing in commands for different actions, as well as punishments and rewards. This begins before we even leave the beach, so far below their conscious minds that they would never feel it, aside from being really horny. Then once we get to the villa itself, the overt training begins.

Taryn’s scans were pretty normal. Her most erotic fantasies were pretty tame for the most part, being tied up and pleasured until she went mad with lust or she was edged over and over until she begged for a good fucking. It was almost always one guy at a time, though that changed from time to time. She was pretty straight, though her cheerleader friend Diana did turn her on. She did kiss her on a dare and felt funny afterwards, but that’s about it. She was easy to arouse without her knowledge, and bombarding her with thoughts was fun. Especially the ones from the boat we blocked from her memory. When that would flash into her mind, we attached an extreme horniness to it, to the point where she was sopping wet ‘fantasizing’ about her own rape and fucking her stepsister.

Veronica’s mind, I let Megan do the heavy lifting but I wanted a peek at what made this girl tick. After making sure that Taryn was hot and bothered, I took a stroll in the little gymnast’s mind.

So her mother is a controlling narcissistic sociopath who bodyshamed Veronica, or V as she calls herself, into every eating disorder on the planet. Any time she gained an ounce…sorry, a few grams, it would freak her out. She thinks in metric, she’s originally European. She always feels like the world is against her, which it is, especially her mother. V has an axe to grind with humanity.

Once I got past that first layer of trauma, I wanted to see what turned her on. Turns out, she has a dominance kink. She wants to be in control and hates giving in to others. It’s a reflex to gain power back from her abusers. As far as the gay spectrum goes, she’s pretty far into the muffdiver side but won’t allow herself to indulge. Hell, she won’t let herself do anything fun or sexual. Her last experiences before this were getting molested and raped by her gym coach after her mom pimped her out.

All of her fantasies deal with revenge against those that hurt her or made fun of her. She gave up on romance a long time ago. Her most wholesome fantasy is to be normal. Just to be loved, hugged, kissed, and fucked like a normal woman.

Boy, is she gonna get that in spades starting this weekend.

I could feel the sexual tension in the air. Both girls were turned on far greater than usual, so we progressed to the next phase, idle chit chat as we walked to my villa. During this phase, they have a hard time focusing on staying on conversation while we bombard them with sexual imagery below the surface, occasionally coming above ground when something comes up. While they’re distracted, we augment their sexual drive with a few commands that give us control and adjust their position on the gay spectrum.

Yes, I said gay spectrum. Sexuality is fluid. I’ve been in enough minds to know that everyone is a little gay, it just depends on how much and whether they act on it. It depends on context and how much their conscious mind overrides their desires. Every guy has that “I’m not queer but if I had to…” guy they’d fuck or let fuck them, or has a price tag on how much it would cost for them to suck a dick. They’re not unique, they’re normal. Like the old saying goes, spaghetti is straight until it gets wet.

As I was saying, we inserted some commands while bombarding them with sexual imagery. Megan was going to make Veronica into her little slut this weekend and laid the groundwork under my guidance. Taryn would make the perfect little honepot. We kept them on topic, unable to focus on stopping this overwhelming feeling that they just needed to suck a cock or eat some pussy. Throw in a little TK of playing with their clits while walking and denying them any release, and that mile walk back to the villa might as well be a marathon to them.

When we arrived at the house, everything was ready. We led the girls through the courtyard and down a flight of stairs to the basement. They walked into what resembled a white office with a black leather couch against a wall. Yes, I know it looks cheesy and played out, but the casting couch is iconic and says everything and nothing at once. Secret cameras were stationed in key locations. I took up position behind the camera while Megan sat on the edge of the desk. Taryn and Veronica sat on the couch, and they were so horny they went along with all of her commands. After a little Q&A, the stepsisters started making out. Whatever disgust they felt earlier was washed away in a sea of lust, but we denied them release still. After letting them go for a few minutes of hot and heavy making out, Megan told Veronica to pull down my shorts and suck my dick. Taryn was instructed to play with Veronica but not to touch the penis. The purpose of this exercise was to train that tiny little bitch how to become a good cocksucker. I withheld V from cumming as I sent instructions to her on how to suck dick like a pro (a lesson I pulled from the mind of the great Jenna Haze) and how she will derive pleasure from her partner’s pleasure. I pulled out and blasted both girls in the face with my cum, feeling damn near spent. Megan sent a message to the frustrated girls to clean each other up with their tongues before making V lay on the couch as Megan made Taryn strip her and guide her pussy to her stepsister’s face. Megan knelt over Veronica lying on the leather couch while Taryn slipped between V’s thighs, moved her bikini bottoms out of the way, and went to town on that clam while playing with herself at the same time.

Still, we suppressed their orgasms.

We kept this up through 3 of Megan’s orgasms, using our powers to deny the girls the relief they so desperately sought. By the time Megan climbed off of Veronica, both of our new slaves were begging to cum. That’s when we decided to move to our next phase, rewarding good behavior. For this, I called in 6 of my best performing and well-hung house servants. 3 of them were black, two were Samoan, and the lone white guy had a semi-successful career in porn. They knew their job in this matter.

Fuck the girls senseless.

The white guy, a Samoan, and a black guy grabbed Taryn and pulled her over to the desk. As the black guy facefucked the pretty brunette, the white guy took her ass and the Samoan positioned himself in a way so that he could fuck her pussy. Meanwhile on the couch, they tossed Veronica around like a rag doll, each one having fun with a whole. The fucking went on for twenty minutes before Megan and I decided to let the girls cum, but not until they each did something we wanted. For Taryn, it wasn’t until the guys were ready to cum that we allowed Taryn to orgasm. As her mouth, ass, and pussy were filled with semen, she had the most powerful orgasm of her life. Taryn actually passed out from the shock of it all. A short while later, Megan let Veronica cum as one of the black men went ass to mouth and blew his load in her mouth right as the Samoan shoved his hog in her tight, tiny ass. That broke Veronica’s spirit, cumming so hard from something so vile and unnatural. Megan used this moment to put a blocker in Veronica’s mind that her best orgasms will come from anal sex, ass to mouth, and multiple partners. Normal, one on one boy-girl sex just won’t cut it for her anymore. Not that it really did anyway.

After the casting couch room, the girls were led to the dungeon, where they learned the finer points of BDSM. We started with them both tied up in separate rooms, letting them experience whips and chains for the first time. We made sure to put a little blast of pleasure mixed in with their pain. They they were each led into a larger room where they were both beaten and abused in full view of the other. We threw in some psychological warfare in there, where Taryn would take a beating for V and vice versa. During this time they each received a good fucking. We didn’t withhold orgasms in this room, but focused in training them to ask for permission to cum in this setting. Pretty soon Taryn was released and led to another room where she donned a dominatrix outfit. She wasn’t comfortable with this at first, but a little reprogramming and she was game. V was left in the room while two men and two other women were led in, bound like slaves. They were servants who also were sex slaves, but they all like this part so it’s a win-win. V watched as Taryn tried her best to be a Dom, but even that required a lot of work. She’s a natural Sub and only completely rewriting her personality would change that. It was then V’s turn to be the Dom, and she relished that role. She was a little too rough at first, but after a little tweaking, she was really getting into it. This was her living out her fantasy. She was so turned on that she nearly came just from the control and how she controlled the slaves. She did cum a couple more times after making the slaves perform for her. I made a note with Megan to keep an eye on her out in the real world, we may have created a monster. ‘A very useful and valuable monster’ she replied.

By this point it was getting late. After a sensible feast, yes there can be such a thing, we took the girls to the theater where they walked in on a bunch of men and women watching porn. The servants watching were instructed not to touch themselves or anyone else until the girls were ready and we gave the all clear.. The porn cycled between all of the major genres every couple of minutes. Straight, gay, lesbian, BDSM, incest, rape, threesomes, anal, all of it and then some. At first we let them watch without adjusting their minds to gauge their reactions. They couldn’t leave, but could do everything else. They were shocked at what they saw and the crowd of mostly men staring at the screens. Once we got through the first ten minutes, I sent the commands to the men in the seats next to them to start jerking off, but slowly. The girls shrieked since we paused their programming for a control reaction, then yelled even more when these strange men grabbed their hands and made them jerk them off. The first set of guys blew their loads in the girl’s hands, then got up and were replaced by two more guys, who did the same thing. Rinse and repeat a few minutes later. By the end of the first 30 minute loop, both Taryn and Veronica had brought four guys to climax. When the loop restarted, the next set of guys pulled the girls over to force them to blow them. As much as they didn’t want to, we made sure they had no control over their bodies that would cause the men harm. Each time the men came, they made sure the girls had no choice but to swallow. This went on for the entire loop, each girl blowing 4 more guys. On the next loop, the action escalated as the girls were pulled out of their seats and fucked while watching the porn loop. Well, raped is more accurate. Taryn fucked 3 guys to completion while Veronica took 4.

It wasn’t until the fourth loop that we started the programming back up, but only after seeing where each girl was mentally. Taryn was shocked and terrified by what she’d done, but Veronica was starting to get into it. We encouraged that behavior in V by rewarding her a couple orgasms she’d never forget. Once Taryn got the hint that she should and would enjoy this, which we planted in her mind, she soon felt the same. With a few little nudges, the girls dove into the gangbang head first, fucking the 30 men and women for the next few hours until they physically couldn’t go anymore.

After the gangbang, training continued in their bedrooms. They weren’t going to get much sleep. The first wake-ups were to rapists having their way with them. Once again, we started off with the reactions being real, letting them feel the fear and panic for themselves and the other. Then, we adjusted the training and programming to where they would just lay back and enjoy it under command, or fight back when given a different command. Next, they had another set of visitors, but this time enjoyed themselves. We then sent them commands that the best way to go to sleep is to have a good, healthy orgasm before bed, and encouraged them to fuck each other. After Taryn gave a good fingering to Veronica, she returned the favor and they both fell asleep in each other’s arms. We sent them instructions to be extra careful when around others so as not to arouse suspicion.

The next day, the girls woke up and showered together, but did so in front of the cameras recording everything. By this point, the girls were programmed to perform under command. This turned into a very erotic scene.

After breakfast, Megan had something she wanted to do, a little fantasy of her own to live out. Veronica was given a set of clothes. White lingerie and stockings, a long black skirt, black patent leather pumps, and a white blouse. She dressed in her room, then came out to an auditorium-like room. Megan stood on stage next to her, dressed the same way. Taryn was in the crowd with me, dressed in a replica of her cheerleading uniform. The two girls on stage walked to a table in front of them and each grabbed a violin. On a cue Megan sent to Veronica, they began playing Bach’s Violin Concerto in A Minor. They were both good, as far as I can tell. Even after years of traveling through people’s minds, I’m borderline tone deaf. The two played as well as I think they could, and Taryn was excited to watch her stepsister play. As I hopped into the minds of all three of them, Taryn was happy for Ronnie but sad that she had no musical talent. V was calm and relaxed, lost in the music and enjoying playing again after such a long break. She hadn’t picked up a violin in over a year, but still rocked it. Megan was stunned. She felt that joy and relief come from Veronica, and that revelation about being away for a year shocked her. She had the added benefit of practice and telepathy, but was barely keeping up.

By the time the song ended, Megan put down the violin and thanked Veronica. She then grabbed the tiny woman and walked over to a series of chairs. She said possibly the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard her say.

“Two years ago, you beat me for first chair. Now, you’ll have to eat me for first chair.”

I didn’t say it, she did.

Megan grabbed Veronica by the hand and pulled her in for a kiss. The two made out on stage for a couple minutes before Megan unbuttoned V’s blouse and unlatched her skirt. As she kissed down her body, she stopped at her tiny tits and paid extra attention to her nipples. V responded with a moan, then worked on Megan’s blouse. When able, the smaller woman played with Megan’s tits for a few minutes. Once Megan’s clothes were gone and she was naked, she sat down in the first chair of the violin row and pulled the little woman on top of her, stripping her and caressing her while they made out.

I took this time to grab Taryn’s head and guide it down to my cock. Her training took over and she gave me one hell of a blowjob.

Megan pushed V off of her and guided her down her body to her spread legs, where she gladly ate out the redhead. It didn’t take long for V’s ministrations to bring Megan to her own climax. As Megan regained her breath, she pulled V to her feet where they kissed, then she sat the smaller woman down in the same chair and proceeded to eat her out.

I instructed Taryn to start fingering herself as she sucked my dick. I let her do this for a minute to get nice and wet. I wanted to fuck her in her uniform.

Megan drew an orgasm from V and was well on her way to a second one when she pulled V off of the chair and onto the stage floor. V caught the hint and climbed on top of Megan as they got into a 69 position.

Meanwhile, I pulled Taryn up and pushed her panties to the side as she mounted my dick and rode me like a whore. It took all of my concentration to not cum right then and there, but I really wanted a piece of her ass. After a few minutes, I instructed her to rub her clit with one hand and guide my dick into her ass with the other. She’s turning into a good little slut.

I came in Taryn’s ass just as Megan came onstage. Taryn sat with my dick in her ass until she climaxed, and V came after she begged Megan to bite her clit. We were all satisfied.

After cleaning up and lunch, we finished the programming. They would remember everything that happened, including the memories from the boat ride in, but could never describe them to anyone. They would be free to continue their lives, but would be changed. When contacted by Megan or myself, they are to contact us as soon as safely possible for further instructions. Once received, they were to follow them as best as possible. The aftereffects of the training would remain, but that is part of who they are now. We also instructed them that they need to cut off their mother as soon as possible. They will now see her for who she really is. Do what they needed to do to survive.

The boat ride home was uneventful. We were spent, to be honest. As much as I wanted to bust another load in Taryn, I was tired. Megan was exhausted, and Taryn and Veronica just lounged around. We reinforced the programming, and made sure that they kept a special contact in their phones. It was a method of reaching associates of ours, in case there was ever a need. It was listed under an innocuous name and profession.

We dropped them off at the pier and they traveled home. Megan programmed them to keep in contact with her via WhatsApp every night with a message of what they did, if safely possible. They were her first slaves, and she was attached to them. Over time, they would prove to be very fun and valuable. Veronica used her connections within the gymnastics world to get her close to some powerful people with a fetish for muscular women who look like little girls, and Megan used those connections for her own ends. Taryn was more fun than useful, like getting her entire college sorority under our control for some raging orgies or organizing some crazy events like a bra and panty 5k. She did help by getting us in contact with other girls who were daughters of people in power or who had access to people with influence, but those are tales for another day.

[LtBroccoli]

Author’s Note: This is a fictional story that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic depictions of sex, violence, sexual assault and rape, coercion, abuse, and shooting porn in the woods. The author does not condone any of these actions, especially going to the woods to shoot porn. There are enough parodies of the Blair Witch Project out there already, we don’t need more of them. Viewer discretion is advised.

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I am a member of an endangered species. Homo Superior. At least that’s what we will be called once our existence becomes common knowledge. Greater Man.

What am I? I’m a telepath. Teep, mindreader, dreamwalker, mystic, whatever you want to call my kind, I can read and change minds, as well as move some objects. I am one of maybe 80 fully capable teeps on the planet. I’ve spent the last couple decades studying and researching where we came from and how we came to be. Long story short, about 1 in a hundred million becomes a teep. Though many have the genes, it takes a special combination of events to trigger the change. Take one part latent telepath, one part shock, one part overactive hormones, two parts trauma, throw together and mix.

That’s what this chapter of my memoirs is about. How I experimented with triggering that change. Could I play god and change the odds?

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It had been a couple months since Megan’s encounter with her old high school rival. In that time she’d returned to school and was adapting to living a double life. To the outside world, she was just a regular college sophomore living an off-campus apartment. But to me, she was one of maybe a dozen functional telepaths in North America. We communicated daily. It was easy to spend time with her, since no one questioned my presence on campus. Hell, no one knew I was there unless they dug through security footage, and even then I masked my presence. She learned how to cheat and cover her tracks like no one’s business, and her grades immediately improved. Megan was skilled at pulling the answers from other students and even the TA’s and professors. Her favorite trick was to ride in the TA’s mind as they graded the papers. It’s easy to get the answers right when you can hear the person grading said papers talk to themselves.

Megan was also learning how to manipulate other’s memories, by wiping them, changing them, or planting new ones. When she wanted to humiliate a member of the football team for attacking a friend of hers, she did what any good girl would do and planted a suggestion that he would just start jerking off in the gym showers after practice. This led to some nasty rumors going around school, and a couple stories about him sucking dick in the locker room.

My protege still had a major weakness… She was too nice. Now, some would call me a cold-hearted bastard, and I agree. But then again, I have experience and the knowledge that I’m trying to save my species, I can’t afford the luxury of being nice. She still can, but one day she will discover that most people are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling. My next lesson was to prepare her for that.

One day after class we met up and discussed what skill she would have to learn and master next.

The fine art of betrayal.

Just the thought of hurting someone made her ill, but I reminded her that at some point when her life was on the line, she would need this skill. She reluctantly agreed, but wanted to do practice on someone that deserved it.

Enter the Influencers, Izzy and Elle Starlight. They were a pair of twin sisters that went out of their way to torment Megan back in high school and were now Instagram famous. They were absolutely gorgeous to look at, but they bullied the shit out of Megan. They continuously tortured her in school, and if not for some quick thinking she would’ve been outed before she was ready. Meanwhile, they played the innocent and sweet TikTok celebrities with a penchant for cuteness, fashion, and cheesy kids TV. They were child actors that made their big break playing a little girl on some sci-fi show, but grew up with crazy religious parents that taught hatred and bigotry like they were teaching the girls to ride a bike. If she had to betray someone, she decided that it would be two cunts that deserved it. Her thoughts, not mine.

We wargamed a couple basic battle plans, but the best one involved mindjacking into their sister Ally. Mindjacking is carjacking for the mind. Instead of just reading and hearing thoughts, you take over control and pilot them around their own life. Most often I do this with guards, cops, and soldiers when I need to get somewhere I shouldn’t. How much I let them know and remember is up to the situation at hand. Personally, I let them remember the terror of not being in control only when they deserve it, then I block them from ever talking about it. One time I did this with a prick pastor that was one of those closeted gays that hated himself so much that he organized book burnings. Well, I took control, dragged him down to the no-tell motel and had him get fucked six ways from Sunday by every guy in the place. After there was enough evidence, the cops and a local news crew were somehow alerted to the situation. His reputation was destroyed instantly, but the memories lived with him until he offed himself before his trial.

But I digress. The plan was Megan would take over Ally’s mind and convince the girls to join her in the woods for a party or something they like to do, like burning witches or making fun of the handicapped. But Ally, under Megan’s control, would lead them into a trap. Ally did a lot of their planning and logistics, so they trust their sister.

The easy part was coming up with a plan. The hard part was getting close enough to enact it. Megan’s powers are still growing, so she needs a direct line of sight at all times to maintain control. So when she tracked down Ally at a local coffee shop, she had to keep an eye on her at all times until the plan was set. I was there as backup in case she needed me, but I let Megan take the reigns on this one. After diving into Ally’s mind, she quickly found what she was looking for: Izzy and Elle’s trust. They trusted their sister implicitly since she managed all of their bookings and was the oldest. Ally was pretty good looking, but blonde haired, blue eyed twins don’t come around every day.

Megan took control of Ally and booked a photo shoot for the twins under a full moon in the middle of the woods, on my property of course. It would look like and feel like a normal photo shoot until a command phrase was given to the crew. Then the fun would begin.

Did I mention that the crew were my henchmen? That feels like an important piece of information to mention.

Since Megan is still learning her powers, she couldn’t let Ally out of her sight, so she used Ally to tell the girls that a driver would be around shortly to pick theme up and to bring their dance outfits and makeup bags along. I sent Fernando around in an Escalade I keep for limo-style purposes. People notice limos but barely notice an SUV. He was over to their house in under two hours, and had them on the way to my place in the woods right after. The sisters called Ally to confirm everything, and Megan used Ally’s voice to reassure them that this was on the up and up. After hanging up, we made our way to the clearing in the woods. It was a couple hour drive from where we were, and Megan had to maintain control over Ally the entire time. Let me tell you from experience, running two or more people at once takes a toll.

We arrived at the clearing, and a crew of a dozen of my henchpeople were setting up everything needed for a photo shoot in the woods, including a portable generator, lights, a dressing room that was just a nice tent, camera equipment, and a pretty 4-poster bed. After getting everything set up, I gave the all-clear for Fernando to bring the twins. He was doing a bit of a holding pattern, driving the twins around for a while through some backroads. They were a little perturbed when they arrived, having been going in circles for so long. Ally and the director gave them a good excuse about how they were still setting up and there was an issue with the property owner giving them a hard time. The girls were on guard, but that wouldn’t matter for long. They were in the middle of nowhere, would soon have no cellphones, and were about to be ravaged by a dozen men and women.

The twins Izzy and Elle Starlight went to their changing tent to put on their first costumes, some flowing light blue gowns that looked more like togas. One of the women on set helped them with their makeup. I used this opportunity to enter their minds for the first time. They were two totally self-absorbed cunts, and their instagram fame went to their heads. Izzy was the nicer of the two, and she was a total bitch. Apparently she pushed Megan down the steps at school. Elle was the one that spread a bunch of rumors about her being gay and a slut. Both girls were worshipped in their little circle of Pious Instagram Influencers, and bragged about how they never had a boyfriend because they were saving themselves even though I could list at least a dozen guys and even a couple girls they fucked.

I was going to enjoy this.

Once they were ready, Ally laid out how things would go for the photo shoot, and then the director gave the twins a lot of commands and poses to get into. The theme of the shoots was “Sleeping Under The Stars”, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

I checked in with Megan, who was struggling with keeping Ally under control. Ally fought the entire time under Megan’s control and tried to warn her sisters, but Megan was a step ahead each time. Eventually she thought to me that after the last planned costume change the director would say that he wanted one more set. That’s when she’d turn this into a steamier photo shoot. I caught the images she was thinking of.

The twins went through a few costume changes, from the blue gowns to matching sequin dresses to complimentary bikinis. Once they finished with the bikinis, Megan gave the message to everyone that things were going to heat up. The director and crew was in on the plan the whole time, but Ally and the twins were horrified when the director gave them directions to climb onto the bed and start posing in erotic poses. As much as they wanted to fight back and scream, they couldn’t. Their terror only grew as they felt an overwhelming compulsion to follow each and every instruction the director gave them, no matter how much it went against everything they believed in.

The posing in bikinis soon gave way to hugging and caressing, until eventually the director told Izzy to kiss Elle. She did as told, but the look in her eyes and the sheer terror flowing from her mind was glorious. Then watching Ally, their older sister, unable to do anything to stop this was just the chef’s kiss.

Speaking of a kiss, it took all of Megan’s power to keep everything under control and continuing as planned while the twins made out. I sent her some encouragement and tips for keeping so many minds under control, like overwhelming them with arousal. She sent a horny-as-hell message to the crew, which helped keep them under control until she told them it was time to move. Of course, she didn’t need to control them, they were already some of my most trusted henchpeople but she could use the practice.

The director gave the twins instructions to undress each other, then play with each other. Try as they might, Izzy and Elle couldn’t say no as their fingers explored each other’s pussy’s. Ally screamed out in her mind but couldn’t do anything but rub her tits and unbutton her jeans at Megan’s instructions watching her younger sisters lez out with each other.

It was when the sisters moved into a 69 that I almost jumped in to help. The girls fought as hard as they could to not eat each other out and Megan almost lost control of Ally while battling the twins. It took a moment, but she regained control and after a quick blast of erotic imagery into Izzy’s mind, she leaned down and put her mouth on Elle’s pussy. The twins ate each other to orgasm while Megan made Ally masturbate in full view of a dozen people.

There’s a special kind of violation that most will never experience, and that’s being a passenger in their own body. It’s a very rare form of rape, but for the telepath it is one that is truly exquisite. Forcing someone to act against their nature is easy with brute force, but taking over and letting them see what their body can do without any input from them is absolutely terrifying. This is actually harder than simply brute forcing a person to sleep and taking over, because a person of strong will can and will fight back against the invader, even if they don’t know what’s going on. So when Ally stripped naked and joined her sisters on the bed, she did so as a passenger in her own body.

The three sisters fucked each other against their will, but to anyone watching the video they would think this was the hottest lesbian porn ever and that they do this all the time. Every time they tried to scream for help, it just came out as sexy talk, like “fuck me harder” or “lick my ass.” This was a trick I taught Megan on how to control people. They couldn’t ask for help because every plea was turned into an incestuous demand.

After this scene went on for a while, I sent a thought to Megan that it might be time to let the crew have some fun, and she agreed. We started with the women on the crew, the makeup girl and one of the grips. They joined the sisters on the bed, having themselves a good old time at Izzy’s and Elle’s and Ally’s expense. But it wouldn’t take long before the guys joined in. Megan let the fear and terror show on their faces as one by one the men joined in, except for the director and the sound tech. And they would have their fun later on. But try as they might, every time Izzy or Elle wanted to scream for help, it turned into yells of encouragement. No meant Yes, Stop became “more”, please stop became “please don’t stop”, leave me alone turned into “fuck me harder.” Even when the twins got tag teamed by two big, burly crew members, they could only voice their displeasure with cries of ecstasy.

The fucking lasted about an hour until everyone had a go at the twins. But Megan felt there was something missing from this betrayal. That’s when she decided to have a little fun of her own with the sisters. She removed the blockers from one girl at a time but forced the others to hold down their sister while they were raped. At first it was Ally, as Izzy and Elle each held down an arm as the boom operator fucked Ally in the ass. Then it was the Izzy’s turn as the lighting head fucked her senseless. Finally Elle was buttfucked by the intern while her sisters held her down and encouraged the buggery. All of this, the sisters experienced fully, even if they had no control over their actions.

The action ended with the men giving a bukake bath to the girls, the last load coming from the director as he delivered a point of view shot.

Once everyone had their fun, Megan went to work on their minds. They would remember the photo shoot, the sex, all of it but could only talk about the photos. They know that proof of the debauchery exists, and even if they one day break the mental lock, they will not be able to do anything about it for fear of having everyone in the world see the Starlight Sisters dyke out under the stars. They were then cleaned up and sent home. Megan wiped her and me from their memories, and clouded everyone else.

They went on with their lives, but as time went on their photo shoots became more risqué. It’s not like they were making out on Instagram, but they embraced sexier clothes and poses over time. Turns out that Megan left them with some instructions on being more tolerant, and this included more bikini shots and fewer bible verses. I’ll take that as a win-win.

We did have other run-ins with the sisters over time. Having a pair of hot blonde twins at one’s disposal can be very useful for any number of situations, both legitimate and carnal. I remember one time I employed them to grease the wheels on a negotiation with the head of a large corporation that I was looking to acquire. Izzy and Elle helped seal a deal that made everyone happy, except for the twins in question. But then again, their happiness was not my concern in the matter.

As for Megan, she learned a lot about her powers and how to use betrayal effectively. She still had a long way to go in that department, but showed some serious improvement. She would get practice down the line, but those are tales for another time.

[LtBroccoli]

Inside the Mind of a Monster: The Mindwalker Memoirs, Part 4

Tags: Sci-Fi, M/F, Rape, Viol, Snuff (imagined), Mutilation

Author’s Note: This is a fictional story that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic depictions of sex, violence, sexual assault and rape, coercion, abuse, and drinking lots of coffee. The author does not condone any of these actions, except coffee. Coffee is life. Viewer discretion is advised.

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I am a member of an endangered species. Homo Superior. At least that’s what we will be called once our existence becomes common knowledge. Greater Man.

What am I? I’m a telepath. Teep, mindreader, dreamwalker, mystic, whatever you want to call my kind, I can read and change minds, as well as move some objects. I am one of maybe 80 fully capable teeps on the planet. I’ve spent the last couple decades studying and researching where we came from and how we came to be. Long story short, about 1 in a hundred million becomes a teep. Though many have the genes, it takes a special combination of events to trigger the change. Take one part latent telepath, one part shock, one part overactive hormones, two parts trauma, throw together and mix.

That’s what this chapter of my memoirs is about. How I experimented with triggering that change. Could I play god and change the odds?

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As the holidays approached, I spent more time training my young protégée Megan on the finer aspects of telepathy and blending in to normal society. The lesson this day was mindless chit-chat. I trained her on how to hold a conversation while performing background tasks like scanning a mind or reprogramming someone. It’s one thing to invade a person’s mind while quiet, but it’s another set of skills to do so while droning on about the weather. We did several exercises sitting in the coffee shop, where I would pick someone in the crowd and scan them while talking about useless things, then monitor Megan doing the same thing. We scanned most of the people in the cafe half a dozen times before she mastered that skill, each time going deeper and deeper on the scans. See, even mundanes can tell when a deep scan takes place. They don’t know what exactly happened, but they know something happened. They might get a weird feeling of deja vu or that feeling that someone just walked on their grave. There were a couple times that Megan seemed to go a little too deep on people and they looked around, but they quickly dismissed those thoughts.

While we sat there practicing chit-chat for two hours, something dark entered the cafe. No, not a black person or the Grim Reaper, but a darkness of mind. A telepath can ‘see’ mental injuries and diseases like depression or BPD. Depression has a blueish tint while mania is bright pink. This was a deep, dark stain emanating from a man in his early 40’s. He was an honest to god psychopath. Megan flinched when she saw him, and he must’ve noticed her. A slight grin came across his uneven mouth as his mind wandered into what he’d like to do to her. She steeled herself and after pushing away images of him violating her, she projected an image into his mind of her going to the bathroom. He stared in that direction as he made his way to the line and ordered an Americano with 2 shots. The man took a seat in the back corner of the shop opposite of us, where he had an eye on our table, the hallway to the bathroom, and the exits. The evil thoughts poured from his mind as she cloaked herself. I helped her maintain her cloak as we both went into his mind.

Frank Hedwig, 42 years old, from Santa Monica, California. He was a bald, skinny man who had a long streak of woman hating and self-victimization that he twisted into some sort of revenge path. He worked in financial IT and travelled around the world looking for his next thrill. But his thrills came from hurting and killing women.

Megan took the lead as she dove into his mind to see what he’s done. It started as a kid with torturing animals nearby, being bullied by everyone, then joining the Marines. After a few years and a couple tours in Afghanistan, he had his first taste of death outside of combat. He killed two men who didn’t stop fast enough at a checkpoint, then later on went with a small squad to the man’s house. After a ‘thorough search’ where he raped the man’s wife, he choked her to death then killed the rest of the family to cover his tracks. A few more kills in war, and he left the Marines with a couple medals and a bum knee. From there, he went to school and tried to satiate the hunger other ways, but he always went back to how it felt to choke the life out of that Afghani woman.

Frank’s first kill after the Marines was a twofer, hikers in their mid 20’s that went off the beaten path. He tracked the women for 15 miles before they rested and separated. When the pretty blonde went to the woods to pee, he subdued the brunette with relative ease, then startled the blonde midstream. They put up a fight, just how he liked. He took his time enjoying them over and over for the next two days before he choked the blonde and stabbed the brunette. The coyotes found the girls before the authorities did. Following that, he focused his efforts around the Southeast, taking advantage of rural girls and women trying to get away. He had a field day in Alabama but moved when things got a little hot and had some fun down in Central America. Nowadays he usually picks up hitchhikers and runaways, unless something really catches his fancy.

Megan and I had a quick mental conversation on what to do with him. I wasn’t expecting her to jump straight to killing him, but I saw how she weighed that option. This man, this monster, has killed dozens of women over the years and would continue until he was stopped. I asked her how she wanted to it, and after thinking for a moment about exactly what I said to her and what that meant, she came up with a plan.

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Frank couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t planned on doing any ‘shopping’ today, not for a while at least. His last trip to the city ended this pretty black piece of ass that screamed and cried just the right way as he choked the life from her. He knew the cops didn’t really give a shit about another dead black whore, but he still wanted to keep things away from him and his hideaway for at least a few more months.

Then he saw her.

That little ginger bitch sitting with the guy in the suit was just screaming to find out what Frank was all about. A beautiful face, nice long red hair, pale skin, the works. She dressed like some dyke art student with a giant sweater and a flowing skirt, but even that couldn’t hide her body. He caught her eye when he walked in and kept it as she scurried off to the bathroom. Frank kept his eyes peeled across the whole cafe, waiting for that bitch to come out of the bathroom. He pulled a notebook out of duffle and made it look like he was writing something to pass the time. She took a while to come out of the bathroom, and when she did, that man in the suit had already left. Frank shrugged, must’ve missed him head out. He sat there, keeping an eye on that little cocktease. He had a feeling that she was leaving soon, so he knew he had to get a move on if he was going to get his hands on this little redheaded cunt.

Frank made his way to his van and waited. It was getting dark, but it was still early enough that lots of people walked around. The crisp air was just chilly enough that most of the sheep wore coats, but not his little redheaded cunt. Her long red head hair stood out like blood in the snow. He watched as she walked down the street to the nearest bus stop, but missed it as it drove off. She moped and pouted as she walked down the street, oblivious to the world with her headphones on.

He followed from a distance, lurking from his windowless black van. She walked 17 blocks as the weather dropped from slightly chilly to downright cold, and she wandered further away from the main drag. Frank figured that she must be getting close to her destination. It was make or break time. When she turned left down the side street near the construction zone, he knew it was make it time.

It was awkward doing a grab and snatch without a partner, but he had the weather, distraction, and exhaustion on his side. He slid the door open, then drove up to a point where she was trapped by a series of traffic cones and signs. By the time that little slut knew what was up, she was already laying in the back of the van, screaming in pain from the taser barbs sticking out of her back. A quick moment of gagging her and handcuffing her to the wall of the van, and Frank was on his way to his cabin for a good old time.

He stopped the van outside of the city to dump most of her belongings in a dumpster outside of a McDonald’s. Frank knew from experience that these were emptied every night to keep the homeless from diving through them for free food. Megan. The Ginger Cunt was named Megan. He kept her license as a memento, but dumped her phone and laptop after going through them and copying the data onto his computer. No need having the cops track her to his cabin via GPS. After finishing a quick meal, he doubled back across the city towards his cabin.

She mewled and cried so sweetly in the back of his van, he knew he had to have a taste before he got home. After driving for an hour, he pulled over in a secluded clearing he knew of and took some time to get to know Megan. She begged and pleaded as best she could as he pulled her sweater up, pulled her gorgeous tits out, and sucked and bit on the nipples as he forced his way between her legs. A couple minutes later, and he tore her panties off and plunged into her twat. He didn’t last long the first time, and didn’t care if she cried about cumming in her pussy. She wouldn’t live long enough to have that kid anyway. Before he went back up front, he gave her a bottle of water spiked with some mushroom-like supplements that would fuck with her sense of time, and took off her Doc Martens.

Another hour or so later, and they arrived at his cabin, deep in the middle of the woods near a fresh water lake. It was dark, cold, and a small layer of snow covered the ground. Frank put a dog choke collar on Megan, much to her protests against it, and dragged her out of the van. He walked her across the rocks and sticks and snow barefoot the quarter mile to his cabin. He hooked the collar to a hook dangling from the porch ceiling as he turned on the wood stove. As the cabin heated up, he took his time cutting off Megan’s clothes in the cold winter air, leaving her naked and shivering for almost 40 minutes before he brought her inside.

Once she was inside, her true nightmare began. He tied her up to a spot next to wood stove, dangling from her wrists. Megan was freezing on one side, roasting on the other, and Frank took advantage of that by beating her all over her body before it was time for some more fun. He sodomized her as her face and tits dangled dangerously close to the hot wood stove. After he raped her ass, he let her hang from her wrists for a bit as he prepared her bed for the night. Once that was ready, he took her outside for a bathroom break like a dog. He kept her outside until she at least peed, then dragged her back inside and bound her to the bed. She could feel the rubber sheets beneath her. Frank spent the night raping and hurting her several times, not letting her get any sleep for more than hour throughout the night. When he was finished for a few hours, he left her with a gift of several sewing needles in her tits. He slept like a baby listening to her cry.

The beatings and rapes continued for the next couple weeks, but the mental torture was worse. The only food he offered her was Alpo dog food, and Megan didn’t eat for the first couple days, but on the third day was so hungry she couldn’t hold back any more. That’s when he started her training as a cocksleeve. If she wanted anything remotely human, she had to earn it. He’d beat her within an inch of her life for the hell of it, and knocked a couple of her teeth loose when she couldn’t help but gag on his cock.

The final night with Megan came a few weeks later. Her period was late and she was sick. He told her that she was finally going home. That’s she knew she’d be dead soon. He untied her from the bed and led her naked to his van. She mustered all of her strength to run, but that’s when the first swing of the sledgehammer clipped her in the head.

Megan woke up with a splitting headache, tied down to a table of some kind. The world rocked around her, and a strong chemical smell hung in the air. Her tormentor smiled as he saw her wake for the last time. Then he swung the sledgehammer over and over, breaking her hands, arms, feet, legs, knees, elbows, hips, shoulders, and ribs. Blow after blow after blow brought her closer to death, closer to making the pain go away. But instead of killing her outright, she felt the table move, then tip up. The last thing she would feel was the cold water as she was dumped into the depths of the lake, unable to swim. It took a few minutes for her to eventually sink to the bottom, panic filling her eyes as she drowned.

That’s when he heard the clapping come from behind him.

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“Well, well, well, lookie what we have here.” I said, startling Frank. But nothing shook him more than what he saw next to me on the boat.

“You!” He pointed at Megan, dressed in her original clothes from the cafe. “What is this?!”

“Shut up.” Megan said with a sternness I’d never seen before. Then again, she had just seen her brutalization and death. Frank tried to reply, but he couldn’t. Megan strode to him and slapped him, knocking him all the way back to…

His cabin, where he hung from the same hook that she dangled from so many times. Frank was naked and gagged, his body scarred from the various beatings endured over weeks.

“Now, let’s get to brass tacks.” I spoke, calmly and succinctly as I walked around him, and through the furniture and the wooden stove. “Right now you’re trying to wrap your tiny little mind around what just happened. How long do you think it’s been since you first saw Megan here? A few weeks? A couple months? Would it break your brain to see what time it really is?” I snapped my fingers.

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For a brief second, Frank was back at the cafe. His hand was sore from writing so much in his notebook, but he couldn’t focus on what he wrote. Across the room sat Megan and the man in the suit. He looked at the clock behind them. It was 5:38 PM.

41 minutes.

He looked down at the notebook and realized what he wrote, what he was writing without thinking.

Names, places, acts of violence and degradation, the works. It was a listing of all of his rapes and murders over the years.

That’s when he heard another snap.

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“The finger snapping is complete theatrics, but it gets your attention.” I said to the man dangling from the hooks in the ceiling. He hung there, confused as all hell about what was going on. I once again walked around him, through the wood stove that caused him pain.

“You look confused, so let me sum things up for you since I don’t want to spend a moment longer here than I have to. You, Frank Hedwig, are a monster. A pure, unadulterated monster. And you decided to attack one of my friends. But not just that, you picked a fight with the most powerful woman alive. Do you have any clue what she’s capable of? She just created an entire universe for you to live in, and your first reaction was to rape and kill her? You lived what, two months in less than an hour? And now, here you hang from your own devices, in the Hell you put her through. But that leaves a question, what should we do with you? See, I’m old enough and bitter enough that I would just give you an aneurism, let you die right here and now. But that’s not my decision. It’s hers.”

Megan walked forward and stabbed Frank in the gut, T-1000 style. His gut split open, and his internal organs spilled on the floor below him. Unspeakable pain and terror filled Frank’s face as he watched his intestines fall on the floor. The pain was unbearable, but something happened. Just as he was about to pass out and die, his organs returned back to his body, forcing their way back into place, followed by his skin resealing itself, all of which in excruciating pain. Just as Frank healed up from the disemboweling, She roundhouse kicked him in the left knee, shattering it. But once again, before the pain became too much and he passed out, his body healed itself, rather painfully.

“Death is too kind for you.” Megan said, as footsteps approached. The first to arrive was a copy of Frank, then another. The first was dressed like Frank was when they first met, the second in a fancy suit. “These are simulacrums, copies of you. I made them base off of your experiences. The one in the suit is your new outward personality. He will take over as your voice to the world. He is amazed that the police have not caught up to him yet. As we speak, he’s bragging about your deeds, writing them all down right now. He will gladly confess to your crimes so that he can take credit. He will make sure you spend the rest of your miserable life in prison. The one that looks like you is here to make sure that you never, ever forget the pain you’ve put all of these women through. He will do to you what you did to them. And you will not die. I will not allow it. I’ve programmed your psyche so that you cannot die from self-harm or self-sacrifice. When you get to the point of passing out or dying, you will repair yourself in a very painful manner and you will experience everything over and over. And just to make sure that this version gets it right…”

Megan snapped her fingers. From the shadows, a woman approached. Then another, and another. Then a few more. Dozens of women approached in various stages of abuse, mutilation, and dress walked forward. Dozens and dozens arrived. With a closer look, copies of the same women arrived in as they were when Frank met them, raped them, and killed them. Looking out at the crowd, a few men were scattered around but for the most part, these were all of Frank’s victims.

“These are the ghosts of your evil. They are here to make sure that you experienced the pain and fear they went through. They are your victims, and now you are theirs.” Megan said, her voice starting to crack from stress. I stood next to her, making sure that I had Frank’s attention.

“Just so you know, here’s how things are going to work out for the rest of the night and the rest of your life. You will pack up your things and leave the coffee shop. You will walk down the street to the alley to the south of the building and lurk in the shadows, waiting for a single woman to appear. You will lunge at her with your knife and attempt to grab her and drag her back to the alley. You will attempt to rape her. How far you get depends on you. But the police will come and have no choice but to apprehend you. When they do, they will find your notebook of nasty deeds and will hold you while they investigate this crime and others. You will stand trial for your deeds, you will go to jail and be found guilty and sentenced to death, but your lawyers will claw and fight for a commutation of your sentence for years. And they’re good lawyers, too. I’m hiring them through intermediaries so even if by some miracle you can get past this mental block and mention anything of what happened they won’t know who we are or how to track us down, but we will know and you will have an accident. So, enjoy the rest of your life. We look forward to watching you writhe in agony for the rest of your pitiful existence.”

Megan and I walked through the crowd in Frank’s mind as his victims and the simulacrums went to work on him, his screams of agony fading as we returned to our own minds.

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Megan was shaken by her experiences in Frank’s mind, but calmed down after a couple moments. We sat at our table in the cafe as I watched Frank finish what he was writing, gather up his belongings, and leave. I followed him telepathically outside and watched him make his way to the alley South of the building and stand there, knife in hand. It didn’t take him long as he found a good looking Asian woman in her mid-40’s walking back to her car. He grabbed her, pulled her into the alley, and went to business ripping her coat open, her dress up, and forcing himself on her, not worrying or noticing her screams for help. Megan scanned the area and found an older man walking a dog in direct eyesight of a cop car. She used him to zap a message to the cops in the car that they should really, really check out that parking lot by the coffee shop.

A few moments later, police sirens and lights flared as two officers driving by just happened to interrupt a rape in progress. The assailant was tased when he tried to run but couldn’t get far with his pants around his ankles.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind as Frank Hedwig was identified as the I-90 Killer. His DNA from the assault matched a series of murders in Idaho, where he was extradited to and is awaiting trial. Those that have seen him can’t believe how much he talks and drops hints about his crimes, but note he seems like he’s always in pain.

Good, no one deserves it more than him.

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As Megan and I were at one of my offices going over the news one day a week after the run-in with Frank, she stopped me right before a lesson on soul splitting because she had something on her mind.

“You want to ask something.” I said the obvious. I trusted the walls and location that nothing would get out, so I decided to use actual words this time, not just thoughts. Plus, Megan’s still resorts to using her mouth for tough questions. She shifted in her chair, long red hair cascading down over her shoulder.

“You said something last week that bothered me. Scared me, really. You said I was the most powerful woman on the planet. How much of that was a lie?”

One thing that is next to impossible is lying to a telepath.

“It’s not too far from the truth. You’d know if I was lying, so I’ll say you are at this moment, probably the most powerful woman in North America and could easily make a case for most powerful in the world. You have the talent and ability, but are raw and need training. Of course there’s only 5 or 6 women teeps in North America, and I’ve trained all but one of them. What you did in Frank’s mind would take them years to get even close to trying, but you created simulacrums on the fly and brought back all of his demons after only a few months. That’s impressive.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. But you still have a lot to learn, like today’s lesson on soul splitting, or as the Harry Potter fans call it making a Horcrux. You’ll learn how to split a part of your consciousness and put it in another item or living being. You can then use it as a backup if your body dies or you need eyes and ears in places you can’t get to. If the sliver is large enough, you can extend your powers there. Now, let’s begin…”

We spent the rest of the day trying to put a piece of her mind into her cell phone. It took a while, but eventually it worked. Tomorrow, we’ll try with one of the security guards.