My mother and I had two weeks break from work and school after the attack. To be honest I think we were both glad to get back to our respective circles when it was done. We loved each other a lot, but we never really felt comfortable in each others’ company if it went on for too long. We both seemed to recover quickly from what had happened, neither of us felt depressed or anxious by what had happened. We took a break, rested up and then got on with things.
Of course, I was an instant celebrity when I did go back to school. Everybody wanted to know the juicy details. I have to admit I was a little discomforted by the attention, but there was a little thrill to it as well. Within days though it was old news everything went back to normal. I faded once more into the background and that was just how I liked it.
I know knew I had a gift. I knew that what had happened to that man was caused by me. So I started to explore it, by then I had also turned thirteen, so that wasn’t all I started to explore. I’m sure you catch my meaning.
At first I had little success and didn’t seem to be able to do anything out of the ordinary. It was my new interest in girls that provided the first intentional success. Like all young buys I found it difficult to talk to the opposite sex, well not exactly talking to them, but knowing whether I should be talking to them or not. It was odd, I had never really suffered from a lack of confidence in anything else, but when I approached a girl I found myself worrying about whether she wanted to talk to me or not. I’d get caught up on worrying about this and then mutter something clumsy before beating a retreat. This went on for a few months until I noticed Andrea.
Andrea had just moved into the area and had started at my school that week. For a few days I just cast furtive glances at her and I wasn’t the only one. She was something divine in school girl form. She had the perfect shape and had the most delicious lips. An odd thing to fixate on probably, but that was the first thing I noticed about her. She really did have luscious lips, I just wanted to kiss them. For those few days I wrestled with myself, trying to come up with something witty that would capture her attention.
That Friday afternoon, as everyone was sitting bored while listening to Mr Carroll drone on about the agricultural revolution it happened. As usual I had been sneaking peeks, you know, admiring the shape her face, the swell of her breasts and imagining the delights hidden beneath the grey school uniform and she looked at me. I was too slow to look away and for a moment our eyes met and for that moment I saw myself. I saw myself through her eyes. I could hear her thoughts. I could feel was she felt. And luckily for me, she seemed to like what she saw.
After the bell rang and everyone made good their escape I lingered and as the crowd filtered out went up to her and we spoke. Like a gentleman I escorted her home and we talked. Well I mostly listened, but there was no worry about whether I should say the right thing or not because I could see what she wanted to hear before I even opened my mouth.
We dated for the rest of spring term, nothing serious, we were both still too young. But I still revelled in the glow of it all, young love is a grand thing. I showed her my secret places around the town, quiet places where we could kiss and fumble. With her hand she gave me my first orgasm and at that exact moment something new occurred. That exquisite explosion of release somehow burst free from me into her and she orgasmed with me, without even being touched.
It’s funny looking back, that first orgasm felt like nothing I have ever experienced since. Just like that first high with a drug, you can never quite reach that same feeling again. No matter how hard you try.
Young we may have been, but we did develop a closeness, an intimacy that also helped the control of my powers grow. My mind became entwined with hers and I discovered that I could implant impulses of my own into her mind. At first it was just minor things, like when she felt disappointed at the present I had given her for her birthday. With just a thought I turned that frown the right way up.
Later I used that influence in more significant ways. I had heard the older boys talking about blow jobs and how amazing they felt. This was something I wanted to experience for myself, but Andrea was reluctant. I sent the impulse and she performed what I wanted, but while the impulse was enough to compel her, it wasn’t enough to forestall the feelings of disgust and shame she felt afterwards.
Not surprisingly that was the beginning of the end. She knew something wasn’t right and while she didn’t quite fear me, she did start to feel disquiet when were together. We had lost that companionship we had. I used my ability to keep things going for a short while, but my heart wasn’t in it. I had grown bored of her and although we hadn’t gone all the way I now felt that for my first time I deserved something special. And quite frankly, Andrea was no longer special to me.
Despite her tears when we broke up, I think she was relieved deep down inside. I could have made it easier for her, but I did not.
Time rolled by and it was probably the best time of my life. It may be a cliché, but it’s also true. I lived in a comfortable home, was well provided for. As long as I wasn’t getting into trouble my mother didn’t mind what I did. She earned a good living, so I had a decent allowance. With my ability I usually convince people to give me things if I wanted them anyway.
School was just fun, I was intelligent enough to breeze through the academic work. The larger boys no longer troubled me, not that they had very often anyway. With some I just diverted them with an impulse drawing their attention to someone else to torment, with others I let the fight happen, allowing my physical attributes to shine. If I looked like losing the fight a quick thought could swing things back in my favour.
Amongst the other children I gained a reputation, I was a little creepy. They didn’t know why, but they knew enough to keep their distance, unless I wanted them close and then they couldn’t resist. I flirted with some of the girls, enjoying the odd encounter, but I had become precious about my virginity. I knew what I wanted, but hadn’t determined how I could achieve it. There are plenty of interesting diversions without having sex and with my talent there was always somebody who would indulge me.
With adults I had less of a problem, for the most part they aren’t as sensitive as children. While some no doubt thought me an odd character, I did well at school and I was rarely in trouble so didn’t attract any undue attention. Another factor was that my abilities didn’t seem to work as well with adults. Their minds are not as open and I found that I couldn’t really get inside. I could glimpse surface thoughts, but nothing deeper or hidden.
Another year passed before I decided how and with whom I would finally lose my virginity. It amuses me know looking back at how seriously i took it, but then it was almost a religious thing. As if it was a ritual that I had to complete to perfection.
The key to it all was adults. I needed to bend one to my will. In return I should not just give myself to any girl, but to a woman. At the tender age of fourteen, this was my Everest.
The opportunity was provided in the form of Ms Clarke. She was the English Literature teacher for my year. She was perfect in every way, in her late twenties, she had a beautiful face framed with raven dark hair. Her body was full in every way the girls around me were not. And her legs were simply amazing.
I knew that she was the secret fantasy of many of the boys at the school, and more than one would drop his pencil so they could try and carefully peek up her skirt. I remember once her breast brushed my shoulder as she leaned over me to comment on my work.
I think it was that lightest of caresses that sealed the deal for me.
Adult minds were still a mystery to me and so for every lesson with her I focused on her. With all my will I tried to break into her mind, to see what secrets lay beneath the surface thoughts of what she was saying to the class. I had no success at first, but I did develop the knack of multi-tasking with my school work and mental assault.
In the end it was two children that provided the breakthrough I was looking for. They were arguing in the playground and I thought it would be fun for them to settle their differences once and for all.
I had never tried sending impulses to more than one person at a time and naturally it was harder than I anticipated. But not impossible and as I got used to separating the conflicting thoughts and emotions it grew easier. And while I watched them fight it out I realised that this is how adults were different.
It seemed to me that with children their thoughts are all on the same level, they don’t necessarily raise one thought or feeling above another. They also focus more, making the form of their thoughts and emotions simpler so that it was easier for me to penetrate. With adults they have thoughts firing all over the place, and more importantly on different levels. Their surface thoughts I could already read, it was maelstrom underneath that was blocking my access. If I treated the adult mind like many children’s minds then maybe I could force a way in.
In the lesson the next day I tried my theory and after an initial struggle it worked. Ms Clarke looked at me with those full lips of hers and when I smiled, she smiled back. I had done it, I had subverted a mind more complicated than my own.