*A mind control story, not particularly graphic. Contains non-consensualactivity, and a brief scene that I suppose could be classed astoilet sex.
This story will probably be of greatest interest to those who findmind control sexy by its very nature, rather than to people lookingfor lengthy descriptions of sex acts.
Oh, and I *italicize* words, or groups of words, with the "*" character.*
The Aerobics Class
I strolled into the gym, dressed in shorts and a ragged oldT-shirt. People were drifting in, gathering for the fitnessclass scheduled to begin in a few minutes. The norms scatteredaround the floor stretching and loosening up were fit andhealthy-looking; I'd selected an advanced class for my day'srecreation. The women, who outnumbered the men by aconsiderable margin, were generally dressed in body-huggingclothing. Spandex was common among the men, too; they mostlyseemed to be of that irritating Serious Exerciser type, anxiousthat their clothing should state, "Hey, I do this all the time." "Norms?" Normals, you know; people who *can't* impose theirwill on other people, the way that I can. Call it projectivetelepathy, call it what you will. How'd I get to be this way? That's not a subject I care to discuss, for reasons I'm also notinterested in pursuing. Don't worry, though: should we evermeet, Gentle Reader, you'll be far too busy hastening to obey myevery command to worry about the origin of my power. Some mightsay that I don't put my powers to constructive use; they mighteven go so far as to accuse me of being rather petty andvindictive, even cruel at times. I recall a young man who saidsomething along those lines to me, right to my face. Poorfellow; I may have been a bit hard on him, I must admit. I'llnot go into the sordid details here. Hey, he's *alive*, allright? I sauntered around the edge of the gym, casually checkingout the female population. Choosing the advanced workout hadbeen wise, I could see immediately; these women were uniformlytaut and lean, right up my alley. They invested a lot of time intheir bodies, clearly, and were interested in showing off theirwell-muscled forms, chiselled out through rigorous diet andexercise. One young lass in particular caught my eye as she bent overand stretched, and I headed towards her. Before I reached her,however, a couple of macho-male jock types crossed my path,talking loudly and not watching where they were going. The onein front collided with me quite solidly, his shoulder meetingmine and knocking me off balance for a moment. "Hey, sorry, guy," he boomed, slapping me on the back. Theymoved past me. "Hold on a moment," I said. "Come back here." They turnedaround obediently and stood in front of me. I looked them over. "I think you're a couple of obnoxiousjock assholes. Don't you agree?" They nodded silently. "Sayit." "We're a couple of obnoxious jock assholes," they chimed,creating a pleasant stereo effect. "Again, please." They said it again. "Well," I said, "we'll just have to. . . Oh, hang on." A few people nearby were beginning to takenotice of this little scene unfolding before them; it was time totake care of that. *You will notice nothing unusual aboutanything that may occur in this gym*, I wide-projected toeveryone in the place. I then slapped up a couple of repeatingfields over the only two doors, projecting that same command overand over; anyone who entered would receive instructions to seenothing peculiar. People returned to their chatting and warmingup, the behaviour of my two "friends" forgotten. "Well," I resumed, "we'll just have to do something aboutthat, won't we? For the next four months, I want you to do noexercise at all, OK?" "All right." "Sure." "And twice a day you'll be overwhelmed with a craving forchocolate bars, ice cream, potato chips, that sort of thing. Seeif you can gain fifty or sixty pounds for me, will you? And loseall that nasty muscle tone. Do you guys have girlfriends?" Theyboth nodded. "Do you have sex with them often?" "Every couple days." "Twice a week, maybe." I smiled. "You'll be impotent with them for the next fourmonths. No, make it six months, and make it with everyone, notjust them. Now, what's the most expensive item you own?" "My stereo system." "My computer." "Why don't you go home right now and smash those up for me? After you've made sure the things are destroyed, you'll have noidea why you did it, all right? Forget about me, except that youwill of course keep following my orders. Go." They wandered off, wearing that amusingly puzzled look normstend to get when can sense that they're about to do somethingtremendously foolish, but have no idea why, and even less ideawhat to do about it. I laughed aloud. You norms bring me no endof amusement, you really do. Such a vast pool of things to playwith, and all of them without the most elementary of mentaldefences. My petty revenge having been exacted - yes, I admit it, butI don't let anyone else say such things - I continued towards thegirl. She wore pink leggings, with a black leotard. The leotardplunged into a thong in back, emphasizing her firm ass underneaththe clingy pink material. Her breasts were rather large; the brathat held them up was clearly visible in outline under theleotard's fabric. I strolled up and placed a hand on her butt. She turned herhead to look casually over her shoulder at me, not finding thisunusual, of course; her gaze was just mildly curious. "You don't mind," I said. Not a question. "No, of course not." She returned to her conversation withtwo of her friends, neither of whom remarked upon my presence. I ran both hands over that tight ass, then down her long,muscular legs, enjoying the feel of her body. "This is getting you turned on," I informed her. I ran myhands back up one leg, then brushed lightly over her cunt with myfingertips. She gasped. I continued upwards, over her flatstomach, to her breasts. Her nipples were large and hard,perceptible even through two layers of material. She moanedslightly as my hands moved over her. I moved behind her and hugged her to me, moving one handover her tummy and the other over her tits. I could feel theflesh of her ass pressing against my erection as I buried my facein her long blond hair, pleased by the scent of it. I rubbed myhard-on against her, and she moved her hips against me inresponse. She had dropped out of the conversation by this point,her level of excitement having rendered it difficult for her tospeak. A female voice rang out from the opposite side of the gym. "Just about a minute 'til we get started, everybody! Just let meget the music set up . . ." The aerobics instructor hadobviously arrived while I had been distracted. I caught aglimpse of her through the crowd. Holy smokes! Definitelyworthy of closer investigation. But before I moved on, this lovely thing I was touching hadearned a bit of a reward. "You're about to have an orgasm," Iwhispered in her ear. "3, 2, 1 . . . Now." I felt her spasmagainst me, and she let out a low cry. "Again, 3, 2, 1 . . .Now. And again, 3, 2, 1 . . . Now. Have a nice day." I lefther there, her face contorted with pleasure as the multipleclimaxes peaked and died away. See? I have my moments ofgenerosity, spreading a little joy in this dark and sad world. Well, I'm *told* it's dark and sad, anyway; I hadn't reallynoticed, myself. The instructor was a truly spectacular specimen, I foundwhen I approached. She wore an all white outfit, leotard overleggings; her body definitely did not need the concealing effectof darker colours. Her breasts were of a medium size, not large,but wonderfully well-shaped and very firm. Her arms were slenderyet toned. The flat panels of her stomach were outlined by theleotard, as were the strong muscles of her long legs. Even herass was well-muscled. She had a very pretty face, I noticed at last, and wasflashing a beautiful smile at some of the regulars as she cued upher workout tape. Her hair was long and shiny black, tied backin a cute ponytail. There was not an ounce of excess fleshanywhere to be seen; her small, compact body was taut as a drumall over. "Wow," I said. The word just slipped out, I was so takenwith her. She turned briefly and looked at me, then returned towhat she was doing. Under other circumstances, she might havethought it unusual to see a guy standing up close to her, anobvious erection poking at the front of his shorts, staring ather body and practically drooling. She brushed past me and jogged lightly to the centre of thefloor. God, she moved like a cat! No, like a tiger, longmuscles flowing under the skin. This, I thought, promises to befun! The class got started, the instructor leading them throughsome light stretching and other warm-up exercises. It was afair-sized crowd for the relatively small gymnasium, perhapsfifty or sixty in all, among whom I counted about ten men. Ididn't bother joining in; I just stood near the edge of the gymand watched the woman in the centre. I found that a fewaerobicisers were impeding my view of her; I projected a commandthat a clear aisle was to be maintained for me at all times. After a few minutes the main aerobic segment began, complexcombinations of knee raises, leg lifts, stride jumps, and so on,moving back and forth across the gym. As she led the class, theteacher would change positions from time to time, moving out ofthe centre to the front or the back. Many of the exercisers gotan extra workout while hustling to keep from moving between meand her. Everyone was constantly checking - quite unaware thatthey were doing it - to make sure that my line of sight wasclear. There was a great deal of bouncing going on, and I wasenjoying watching the leader as she ricocheted around the roomwith apparently limitless energy. But perhaps I could enjoy thisjust a little bit more, I thought, if . . . *Everyone make sure that you're doing the same thing theinstructor is doing at all times*, I wide-projected. I turned myattention to the current object of my desire. *That leotard isquite itchy*, I sent to her. *Your breasts feel alluncomfortable, and they're too confined in there.* As she performed the movements of the routine, her handsstarted to dart up to brush her tits, futilely scratching an itchthat would not go away until I willed it. She also tugged at thestraps of her outfit, trying to loosen it for comfort. I wasamused to see the movements echoed all around the room, men andwomen scratching their chests and pulling on their clothing. *You'll stop itching and feeling all bound up if you justpush your top down a bit*, I projected. *Go ahead.* While still doing knee lifts, she reached up and eased thestraps of her leotard off her shoulders, peeling it down to herwaist. She wore a simple white sports bra underneath. Her smilegrew wider with relief, and she threw herself into the next setof moves with great enthusiasm. *The bra, too. Throw it to the edge of the gym.* Shereached behind her and unfastened it, then threw it off to oneside. A hail of bras followed as the rest of the class imitatedher. The instructor's breasts, now bouncing free, were topped bysmall but prominent nipples. Looking around, I was greeted bythe pleasant sight of a sea of bare-chested women. The men werebare-chested as well; they were looking around too, not findingthe situation unusual but certainly appreciating it. *Why not get rid of the whole leotard? Just toss it.* She had to stop moving for a moment to accomplish this. Stepping quickly out of it, she threw the leotard - surprisinglysmall when not filled by a body - to the edge of the gym. Thisleft her clad only in her white leggings, which ran from herknees up to her waist, where they rode low on her hips. Again, aflurry of clothing from the class soon joined hers. The men shedtheir shorts or spandex tights, and continued to work out intheir underwear; that they were finding this an unusuallystimulating class was now quite obvious to anyone who cared tolook. I sat down, content to just sit back and take in the sceneryfor a while. The class moved on to strength exercises, pushupsand situps and other movements, all of which had interestingeffects on the anatomies of the females. Eventually they movedon to an exercise for the inner thigh: lying on their backs withlegs straight up in the air, they lowered their legs out to thesides, then brought them back together again. I stood up. *Strip*, I told the instructor. *Everything off.* She stopped what she was doing, sat up and hastily removedher shoes and socks, then rolled the leggings down to her anklesand slid them off. She wore nothing beneath them. *Carry on with that exercise*, I told her. I walked up toher through the rows of aerobicisers, all of whom were now naked.I ran my eyes down her body as she pumped her legs up and down ina fluid, constant motion, showing no signs of strain. The viewwas impressive from where I stood near her legs, looking down ather. It was a warm summer's day, and a fine sheen of sweatcoated her smooth, flawless skin. To quote an old cliche: I loveexercise - I could watch it all day. "Hold it there," I said aloud to her, when her legs werespread apart. She froze, legs held in that position, idly gazingup at me. An exceptionally flexible girl, I noted; her feet camedown almost to the floor. "What's your name?" "Liz," she responded. "Liz Brimley." "You're feeling pretty horny right now, aren't you, Liz?" She nodded, swallowing. I touched her legs, revelling in the sensation of sliding myhands over those muscles. Her skin was soft, and lubricated withher own sweat. I knelt and traced them all the way down to herpussy. After stroking her clit briefly, I brushed through thedark pubic hair and on upwards; I could smell her arousal, now. I continued on up, across her stomach to her breasts, which werejust as firm close up as they appeared from a distance. As Ileaned forward, my cock brushed her now wet cunt through thefabric of my shorts. Perhaps it was time to take part in thisclass myself . . . "Um, excuse me?" A nervous voice floated across the gymfrom near one of the doors. I whirled and stood up, startled at this interruption. Thespeaker, visible over a mob of people lying on their backs withtheir legs spread, was a short, balding man somewhere in his mid-forties. He walked towards me. I was temporarily speechless, anexceedingly rare condition for me. "Ah, excuse me," he repeated. "I, um, was just wonderingif . . . Well, if this . . ." He indicated the gym with a waveof his hand. "If this is . . . I can't seem to find anythingunusual about it, but I feel sure that . . . Well, I mean, isthis *proper*, do you think? I mean, should you be . . ." "Shut up," I told him, cutting off his ramblings. "Who the*fuck* are you?" "I'm Bill Chesterton. I'm the administrator of the athleticcomplex, here, and I was just passing by when I looked in andsaw . . ." "Shut up." I was puzzled by friend Bill's apparentresistance. Probing him, I found a rather distracted, fuzzymind, cluttered with vague, shifting thoughts. His mind was somuddled that it felt . . . well, "slippery" is the nearest word Ican find. His absentmindedness was serving him as a sort ofshield, I concluded; my orders were partially obscured in thegeneral static, allowing him to perceive something as being outof the ordinary in the gym. Well, that was all right. I'd been worried there, for amoment, that I'd encountered a new breed of norm, somehow immuneto my influence. He had resisted - mainly by accident - asustaining field, but surely he could not hold out against moredirect orders? "Bill, old buddy," I said, putting an arm around hisshoulders. "See that young lady right there?" I indicated ayoung Asian woman, lying of course with her legs spread apart. He nodded. "I'd like you to lick her, right there between herlegs. Go ahead, Bill, lick her cunt." "All right." He knelt down without hesitation and startedin on the girl. I watched him for a moment. It occurred to me that I shouldhave been more cautious in ensuring my privacy - a lesson for thefuture. For now, I set up additional fields, surrounding thedoors and extending out away from them in a wide semicircle,projecting a command: *Go away, and don't come back here beforetomorrow.* Bill continued to slurp away, rather noisily. The girl'sforehead furrowed slightly from time to time; her brain wasobviously beginning to have just a bit of difficulty with theassertion that having inept oral sex performed on her by a pudgybalding man was nothing that she ought to find unusual in anaerobics class. These twinges were only intermittent, however,and the rest of the time she lay there contentedly, gazingincuriously around the room. "Stand up, Bill," I instructed. He did so, and stood therelooking at me. "Wet your pants." A dark stain spread out from the crotch of his grey slacks. A small puddle formed on the floor as the warm liquid drippeddown his leg. Now, what to do with Bill? Something unfortunate reallyought to happen to someone who had given me such a start, butwhat? Ah . . . "You," I said, pointing at the Asian woman. "What's yourname?" "Vicky Chan." "Find your stuff and get dressed, Vicky." As she moved todo so, I turned my attention back to Bill. "Are you married,Bill?" "Yes." "Happily? Ever fool around, ever cheat?" "No, I would never do that." I smiled. "Never say never, Billy. By the way, you've madea bit of a mess on the floor, there. Someone ought to clean thatup, don't you think?" "Yes, of course. The janitorial staff will . . ." I cut him off. "Why don't you do it? In fact, why don'tyou lick it up for me, right now?" He got down on his knees andstarted lapping away. When Vicky returned, dressed simply in grey bicycle shortsand a black T-shirt, Bill was just getting back to his feet. "Bill, meet Vicky, your new mistress. The two of you aregoing to have an affair, starting today. Once a week you'll gettogether and have wild, passionate sex. You'll have to hide thisfrom your wife, of course, and you'll feel terribly guilty aboutcheating on her, but you won't be able to help yourself, you'llbe so addicted to the sex. "You're going to spend outrageous amounts of money on Vicky,bringing her expensive presents every time you meet, jewellery,clothes, that sort of thing. Ask her what she wants. Afterabout four months, oops! Your wife is going to find out. You'llstart to make mistakes, to make little slips that will eventuallyallow her to figure out what's going on. Do you understand?" The two of them nodded. I pulled Vicky aside and spoke to her separately. "Have yougot a boyfriend?" "Yes." "Well, there's no need for any of this to affect yourrelationship with him. Don't tell him about your sugar daddyover there. And you're going to enjoy fucking Bill, I promise. No matter what he does, you'll get very turned on and have aterrific orgasm at the same time that he does, all right?" I pulled Vicky over to Bill and slid her arm around hiswaist. "OK you two, run along now, off to your first date. Oh,and Bill, if this little incident doesn't bankrupt you and breakup your marriage, pick up a hooker somewhere and do it again. And again. And don't go around bothering telepaths, youmiserable shit." I projected the standard command to them: don't remember me,but keep obeying the orders. The two walked away, Bill gazingadoringly - and lustfully - at the woman clinging to him. I turned back to Liz, who lay still in the same position. "Stand up," I ordered. She climbed to her feet. "Undress me." I held my arms up to allow her to pull off my T-shirt. Shethen unlaced my shoes and removed them, tugged off my socks, andslid my shorts down to my ankles. I hadn't bothered withunderwear; my erect penis bounced free as she pulled off theshorts. All around us, like so many marionettes, the classengaged in an elaborate mime performance, undressing an invisibleman. "I'm pretty sexy, don't you think? In fact, I think thatI'm about the most attractive man you've ever seen. You'reunbelievably turned on just looking at me, aren't you?" Liz nodded, and looked me up and down, slowly. Her eyeskept returning to my cock. Her tongue frequently darted out tomoisten her lips. I rocked my hips back and forth a bit, causingmy hard-on to swing from side to side; her eyes followed it. Oneof her hands moved between her legs, and she began to strokeherself. When I looked around the gym, I laughed aloud; the entireclass was doing it! I had a sudden image of her trying to leadthe class members through the procedure: "Now, this nextexercise . . ." "You'd like me to fuck you, wouldn't you?" "Yes," she sighed. "Tell me what you'd like me to do," I ordered. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to touch me all over, totouch my tits, to lick me. I want to touch your cock, to suck onit, to feel it in my hands. I want to feel it inside me, yourlong, hard cock thrusting into me. I want . . ." I waved her to silence. "Maybe later." For the moment, Ihad other plans. "Go get me one of those mats," I told Liz. She joggedgracefully over to the corner where the mats were piled. Theentire group turned and ran with her in unison, and the cornerbecame rather choked with bodies as the nearest people crowdedinto it with her. As Liz came back bearing a mat, the classspread out again. I put the mat on the floor and lay down on it, projectingcommands to Liz. I had her rub her breasts over me, running hernipples over my skin. She held herself up as though she weredoing a pushup on those strong arms, and started at my face, thenmoved backwards, brushing her breasts over my chest and stomach. As she went, she rubbed her wet, hot pussy against me, brushingmy stomach, then sliding it down my leg. She moved still lower,and I sighed with pleasure as she rubbed those perfectly formedtits, slick with sweat, over my already tremendously arousedcock. Next, at my suggestion, she tickled my balls with herthatch of pubic hair, then rubbed her bush lightly against mycock, down at the base. Now, norms under my influence tend to become very hesitantabout doing things that I have not specifically ordered; this iswhy, for example, Liz hadn't rushed forward and jumped me when Iwas telling her to be fascinated with my body. This effect wasoperating again at the moment. As she was teasing my cock,holding herself on her arms with her back arched up - I wasenjoying the view - I could sense from Liz a very strong impulsethat she was keeping suppressed. She desperately wanted to justslide up a ways, spread her legs and pull me inside her, despitethe risk of pregnancy or sexually transmitted disease. I wasn't about to allow her to give in to that particularimpulse, however. I hadn't brought appropriate protection, andwhy would I want to run the risk of messing up a killer bod likehers with a pregnancy? There'd be plenty of time later for otheractivities; I'd already decided that Liz would be coming homewith me. I have a touch of the collector's bug in me, and shewas certainly a prize worth adding to my collection. "Give me a blow job," I said. The idea excited her, butthere was a twinge of disappointment as she slid her crotch awayfrom mine. A long, pleasurable time later, I was still lying on themat, subject to Liz's tender ministrations. She was very good atit, especially once I gave her free rein to improvise rather thansimply following directions. I'd enlisted a couple of otheryoung women, too, pulled at random from the crowd, the rest ofwhom were on their hands and knees, sucking and licking the air. One girl was sucking on my nipples, teasing them with her tongue,while the other knelt behind my head and leaned down to nibble atmy earlobes. Liz could sense that I was close to orgasm, and she closedher mouth over the tip of my penis and began to suck on it, hard. My arousal built up and up, and shortly I came, crying out as thepleasure coursed through me. When I was young, before I had learned control of my talent,I would tend to "leak" thoughts or emotions, especially when myattention was distracted. On several occasions, whole apartmentbuildings found themselves suddenly getting off - no doubt to thegreat embarrassment of many - as I had an orgasm and projectedthat intensity blindly outwards. I've since learned to controlit. Here in the gym, though, I deliberately projected mypleasure out to the crowd, so that as I came there was a risingchorus of moans, groans and sighs as sixty-some people abruptlyclimaxed simultaneously. Liz, who had already been in a highlyaroused state, had a particularly intense orgasm, bucking wildlyas she swallowed my semen. I sat up languorously, a contented half-smile on my face. Ilooked around. *Lick up anything you may have spilled, kids*, Iprojected. The males dropped to all fours and started to cleanthe floor with their tongues. No sense confusing the janitorsany more than necessary, I figured. I told Liz to get dressed, and in short order the class wasonce again fully clad. Time to clean up after myself a littlebit. "Go into your cool-down routine," I suggested. I rid theclass of their compulsion to copy her movements exactly, and toldthem to forget everything that had just occurred. They wouldremember an ordinary aerobics class, instead. I took down thefields around the doors, cancelled the order to perceive nothingunusual, and drifted to the back of the class. Standing at theback, just watching as everyone else did cool-down stretches, Iattracted a few odd looks, which I ignored. After a few minutes, Liz got to her feet and said, "That'sall for today. Have a good one." There was the traditionalpost-aerobics round of applause, and the class broke up. Ismiled to myself as I heard people talking about what a goodclass it had been. An exceptionally good class, from my point ofview! When the gym had mostly emptied out, I approached Liz; shewas retrieving her tapes and locking up the sound equipment. "Ah, Ms. Brimley!" I said. "Great class, as always!" "Thanks." "May I call you Liz?" "Sure," she said cautiously, not wanting this to turn into apickup attempt. "I mean, it seems only right to be on a first name basis,when we've shared so much together." And I allowed her memory ofwhat had just happened in the gym to return. Her eyes widened, and she was momentarily stunned. She thenstarted to take a big breath, perhaps preparing to yell somethingat me. "You're in love with me, Liz," I told her before she couldmake a sound. "Madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with me. You'd do anything for me, anything at all. Why don't you comeback to my place right now? We can talk about all the fun stuffwe're going to do together." She flashed that beautiful smile at me, and said, "Let'sgo." We left the gym together, Liz holding my hand and babblinghappily about how devoted she was to me. My mind was buzzingwith thoughts of what to do with my new plaything when we gothome.
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