[Anyone having issues with the recovery time of Eric: apart from the sexy times, this almost exactly mirrors my recovery time when I had a similar brain tumor. And there’ll be even more explanation below.]
Unsurprisingly, I collapsed into bed almost instantly, and darkness quickly overtook me.
The dream I had was also in darkness. It was cold, and wet. I saw a light bobbing in the distance. Eventually, I started to make out the willowy shape of a human form. Then a voice rang out. “Eric? Is that you?”
Then my eyes seemed to come into focus. It was CJ, my first girlfriend, holding a flashlight. “Jacks?!” I looked around—we were in some caves where we’d always enjoyed spelunking.
She touched my staples. “What happened to your head?”
“Brain surgery.”
“Right.” She stared off, losing herself. She scrunched her face, looking confused. “Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I am.” By this point I’d figured out it was a dream.
“Oh.”
“Jacks, do you mind if I try a small experiment?”
“I guess?”
“I just want to see if I can hypnotize you.”
She started looking nervous. “Hypnotize?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been hypnotized before.” She shuddered, and I could see the revulsion and shame on her face.
I saw red, clenching my fists. “What did he do?”
She sighed. “He took advantage of me.” Then she met my eyes. “Didn’t you wonder when I started recoiling from any touch?”
“I thought it was just the accident.”
“No, it was him.”
“The therapist?”
CJ nodded. “At first, he was helping me.” She started sobbing. “I trusted him. Then he had me do... other things.”
“Do you trust me, Jacks?”
“Of course.”
“Then let me try.”
“I’m scared.”
I shushed her. “Don’t be. Just close your eyes and listen.”
Her eyes immediately slammed shut. I started in the rigamarole, the induction I guess. I counted down, made sure she was as deep as she could be.
“Tell me what happened with the therapist.”
“He hypnotized me. He made it easier to feel relaxed after the accident. Then he started saying I was beautiful, he made me want to do...” she shuddered ...“things with him. But I didn’t want to—I loved you. But I couldn’t resist, I couldn’t remember, I couldn’t talk about it.” She sighed. “I wanted to tell you, but then you were sleeping with Heather.”
“I wasn’t sleeping with Heather. We didn’t do anything until after you kicked me out.” I sighed. “Jacks, I want you to take those memories, the memories of your therapist, and tie a bow around them. You’ll remember them, but you won’t be affected by them anymore. Okay?”
“Okay...”
I could feel my cock stirring. It was only a dream, I kept saying to myself. What happens in dreams doesn’t matter. But I remembered last night’s dream, shared with Diana and the rest of my harem in Italy—and I knew that mattered, that meant something. I loved CJ, and Simon was a good man, too. He made her happy. So I abandoned my nascent plans to have dream-sex with my ex-girlfriend, and changed gears.
“I want you to have an orgasm every time Simon cums.”
“Okay...”
Then, I gave in to my dark side just a little bit. “When you wake up from this dream, CJ, I want you to take a provocative nude picture of yourself, showcasing your breasts. Then send it to me, signing the email ‘Tits.’” She’d developed early, having breasts long before anyone else in her school; so they called her Tits. She hated the nickname, she hated the word. “You won’t feel bad about it, and it’ll feel like your own idea. Oh, and if I ever call you Tits, you’ll do, or feel, whatever I say, my commands as strong as in this trance. And it won’t bother you when I call you Tits.”
“N...no,” she said, “not again.” The dream broke into a million little pieces.
Zeroes
Chapter 4: Heather’s Helping Hand
Phoenix: Tuesday Morning
I woke up in a cold sweat, a knot of guilt hanging in my chest. I knew, immediately, that I shouldn’t have done that. As I lathered the medical shampoo over my skull, I tried to console myself by saying I’d improved her sex life with Simon, and maybe freed her from some trauma. By the time I walked out of the shower, I could smell fresh coffee brewing. Sure enough, when I finally walked into the kitchen Heather had a cup of coffee waiting for me. “What? No breakfast?”
“You don’t keep your kitchen very well stocked.” She rolled her eyes. “Frozen waffles and party leftovers?”
“I was planning on being in Italy for three months.” I reminded her, pulling up a chair in the breakfast nook. “I just got back. I haven’t had a chance to restock, yet.”
“I know that, you dolt.” She laughed. “Good thing I brought my own coffee.”
We sat there for a while, contemplating the sunrise. “I had a dream about CJ last night.”
“Going back to your old stomping grounds, Andy?”
“It’s not like that, Kiki.”
She shrugged. “Hey, the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Are you jealous? You left me!”
“And you never let go of her!”
I sighed. “You’re right. I was a foolish kid. At least I finally learned to let go.”
She flushed. “Sorry. I usually have more self-control. You just bring it out in me.”
“You know I like it when you blush.”
Clearing her throat, she looked away, though I was pretty sure I caught a smile. “Shall we get down to business?”
“Sure. Why are you here?”
“You’ve made enough waves that... certain people have called for a tribunal.”
“A tribunal?” I chuckled. “That sounds kind of melodramatic.”
“This is serious business, Eric!” She slammed her coffee cup down on the table, splashing coffee all over the glass top. “You’ve made a lot of people very nervous.”
“How?! What the hell have I done that’s so special?”
“You’ve managed to gather probably one of the largest herds anyone has ever seen. Like it or not, Eric, you’re a superpower.”
“Why doesn’t everyone just get similar sized herds?”
“Because it would probably kill them.”
“Oh.” I sipped my coffee, lost in thought. “Why didn’t it kill me?”
“Branding cannibalizes a part of your essence. Do it enough times, without giving yourself time to heal...” She shakes her head. “I’ve seen it happen.” She shuddered. “What we figure is that the tumor was cannibalized first—your body used the branding to try to halt the progression of the growth.”
“So the seizures were symptoms, but the branding was just a defense mechanism?”
“That’s how they explained it to me. But does it even matter?” She shrugged. “However the reason, you’re making a lot of people nervous. They want to meet you and decide what to do with you.”
“And you’re here to what, exactly?”
“Warn you, and prepare you.” She gave me a look. “You were already found unfit. Now you need to prove yourself.”
“Why was I found unfit?”
“You were undisciplined, erratic.”
“I was just a kid back then!”
“I know. And to be honest, most of the heirs act worse than you.” She grumbled. “Damned nepotism. It’d be easier if you were part of an established bloodline.”
“You said this thing was hereditary.”
“Yeah, hereditary and recessive. Makes it hard to track, especially given how irresponsible some men are with their sperm.” She shook her head. “Plus, lots of records were lost in World War II.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t help that Dad was adopted.”
“Nope. Adoption records were atrocious in the 40s.”
“What bloodline do you belong to?”
“None. Though Norm’s got a pretty respected bloodline.”
“Oh, yes.” I rolled my eyes. “The royal family of Barnes. Guess that’s why your marriage is ‘political.’”
“It was damned near arranged; they’re a little old-fashioned with how they treat women. They’re obsessed with lineage.” She shook her head, letting her blonde locks fly free. “Once they figured you were unfit, they still would have kept track of any kids you had.”
“Sins of the father?”
She laughed. “Not quite. Just keeping track of future numina.”
“Numina?”
“Plural of numen. Really, regular language kind of fails, so they’ve had to develop their own jargon. They stole that one from Latin. Be glad, it was almost Halbgott.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
“Germany kind of dominates the Society.”
“I guess that’s why ILYSKN is based out of there?”
“Pretty much.” She shrugged.
“Was... Hitler...?”
“He’s why they’re so rigid about accepting newcomers.”
“How do we muggles prove ourselves?”
“Muggles.” She snorted. “Never heard that before.”
“You do this for a living?”
“No, you dolt! I’m on the consultancy side. They just sent me because they figured you’d welcome a friendly face.” She stuck her tongue out at me.
“So, what do girls get?”
“Huh?”
“You know. Only guys can do mind control. What do girls get?”
“Oh, that.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Well, we can read minds.”
“I can do that.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What? You think I can’t?”
“Oh, you can do most of the female things. But only through your brands.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense. What else can we do?”
“Women also have the Sight.” She tried to clarify. “You know, ESP.”
“That can mean a lot of different things.”
Sighing, she continued. “We can see auras. We can sense the future, sometimes even see the past.”
“What about men?”
“What? Mind control isn’t enough for you?” She smirked, and winked.
“I just figure that can’t be it.”
“You have the Maleficium.”
“The what now?”
“More Latin. It pretty much translates as ‘harmful magic.’ It includes glamours, and curses.” At my perplexed look, she continued. “Illusions and... mental attacks. There’s really no better word for that.”
“Is that it?”
“Well, we women can also... bodysculpt.”
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a plastic surgeon’s wet dream. Or any doctor’s. We can stimulate other people’s bodies to grow, or change, in any manner we choose.”
“The physical therapy job is a good cover, then?”
“Many of us go into the medical profession.” She sighed, smiling at me. “You were such a pain to work with; I couldn’t cheat! I had to use my old training!”
“Oh, right. Powers can’t affect powers.”
“Yup. I tried to teach you how to unlock your own potential.”
“I thought only women could bodysculpt.”
“Mind over matter. It’s part of the shared powers. All numina can control their own metabolisms. Women just get to do it to others, too.”
“Shared powers? What else is there?”
“Astral projection—basically out of body experiences. Other than that... I guess you could call it cyberkinesis.”
“Kiki, explain.”
“We can communicate through wires. From that, we figured out we could communicate through computers.”
“And that’s what the weird phone stuff is all about?”
“Pretty much. Open the envelope, there should be an iPod in there. Listen to that for a day, and you’ll pick up ILYSKN.” She looked at me over the coffee cup. “Okay, maybe two days for you.”
I resisted the urge to kick her under the table.
Phoenix: Tuesday Afternoon
After coffee, I went upstairs to the den to get the envelope. While there I stopped by my computer—sure enough, there was an email from CJ. I opened it just long enough to confirm it followed my suggestions - commands, I guess. Then I closed it, immediately, and distracted myself with opening the envelope. Sure enough, inside was an mp3 player. Not an iPod, some foreign jobbie I didn’t quite recognize. I was feeling tired again, so I headed back to my bedroom, dug some earbuds out of the nightstand, and started the player. I drifted between wakefulness and sleep as it murmured its secrets through my ears.
It was a little before 1 when the shrill ring of my phone jolted me out of my reverie. I rolled over and groped for the phone on my nightstand, eventually grabbing it on the last ring.
“Hello?”
“Eric? Did I wake you?” It was Stephanie Konrad, a friend from my first time at college, a fellow Sculpture major, who’d moved to the Phoenix area a year before I did.
“Kinda, Stevie. What’s up?”
“Oh no! I’ll let you go! You need your rest.”
“Look, if I don’t wake up now I won’t be able to sleep tonight. That’ll suck even more.”
“Oh. Okay.” She paused. “Sooo, was that Heather I saw at the party?”
“You know it was.”
“We should do lunch. You kept Kiki all to yourself the last time she visited.”
“She wouldn’t have slept with you anyway.”
“You never know. She could have changed her mind about girls.”
“Hold on, I’ll check to see if Kiki’s interested in lunch. Fogo?”
“Mmmm! I haven’t been there since my birthday.”
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Oh, like I haven’t thanked you enough?”
“When a man buys a girl dinner, he has certain expectations.” I popped my head out of my bedroom. Luckily, Heather was in the living room, reading. “Hey, Kiki?”
“Yeah?”
“Steph wants to meet for lunch. Think you can be ready in a half hour?”
“Of course!”
Turning back to the phone, I said, “She said fine. We’ll be there in an hour. I’m going to shower. See you there.”
“Okay. Have fun getting hot and wet!”
It wasn’t until we got to the garage that I’d realized I’d made a slight mistake in judgment. I stared at my motorcycle, then at my helmet, then ran my fingers across the staples on my head.
Heather looked at me. “Seriously, no car? You’re still not over the accident?”
“Yup. Still get panic attacks.”
“I still don’t understand why the motorcycle doesn’t freak you out as much.”
I shrugged. “Haven’t had an accident, yet.”
She gestured at my helmet. “So, how are we going to get there?”
“Hopefully, Stevie can pick us up. We’re on her way to Fogo, and she probably hasn’t left yet.”
I pulled out my cell and dialed Stephanie. She pulled up in her pickup—Stephanie was one of my Friends With Trucks, great to have around as a sculptor who can’t drive. Heather climbed in the front; I slipped in the back and closed my eyes, dozing as I listened to the girls catch up on their lives. Stephanie was a radio hostess, had her own show; quite a change from the wallflower I knew her as. Arizona was good to her—over 7 years she’d gone from an overweight nebbish to an attractive, svelte woman. When we met, she had designs on pursuing me, but by the time she’d pulled her ugly duckling transformation, she’d gotten over me—and I’d started to find her beautiful. Damn timing. It occurred to me as I was half-napping that I could finally change that. She’d been tranced at the party—I wondered if it was the sham hypnosis, or something more. I was sure I’d find out soon.
“Wakey wakey! We’re here!”
That was Heather; I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t normally sleep this much, but I had brain surgery last week.”
“Like that’s some excuse.” Stephanie dimpled a smile at me as she winked.
“Oh, shut up. You didn’t even come to visit me.”
“I was in Hawaii! On a boat!”
“Excuses, excuses.”
“If you’re going to be that way about it, I’m not buying lunch.”
“Good. Then I don’t have to put out.”
“Is that the way it works?” That was Heather again. “Get out of the car, lazybones.”
If you’ve never been to a Brazilian steakhouse, I’d recommend it. All you can eat meats of all different kinds, all gourmet cuts prepared upscale. They bring the sizzling, fresh meats, on skewers to your table, and cut exactly as much as you want. While the waiters were bringing the food, we got to talking.
“So, Eric,” Stephanie asked, blushing. “When did you decide to become a hypnotist? I thought the whole Erin thing soured you on it.”
I gestured at the staples going along the right side of my head. “Just call it brain damage.”
We all laughed.
“No, seriously.”
“Yeah, Andy.” Heather looked at me, her eyes dark with mischief. “Let’s hear it.”
The wheels whirred in my mind for a few moments. “Let’s just say I met some people in Italy that showed me some of the advantages of hypnosis. And didn’t whine nearly as much!” Stephanie laughed—she’d been there for the duration of our relationship; she’d heard my complaints about Erin’s constant nagging.
Blushing even more, she said, “Well, if you want to do it again, I’m up for it. It felt soooo good.” She drank down a big glass of water. “Excuse me,” she said. “I have to go powder my nose.”
Heather grabbed her purse. “I’ll go with you.”
“No!” Stephanie gasped. “That’s okay.”
As we watched Stephanie sway off to the bathroom, Heather licked her lips. “She’s really developed.” Last Heather had seen Stephanie, Stephanie more resembled a pear than an hourglass; her chest hadn’t shrunk, but the rest of her body had slimmed down. “She’s going to masturbate, you know.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, really. I can see the waves of heat flowing off her. I told you she had a crush on you.”
“Not anymore.”
“What made you think that?”
“I asked her.”
“You dolt! You think she’d actually tell the truth?”
“I figured there was a chance, since I was asking her out. By then she was into girls.”
“Have you guys had sex?”
“What?! No.”
“Hmmm. She picked up your brand somehow.”
“She was in Hawaii while I was seizing. She didn’t even get into town until yesterday.”
“It’s not fresh. It must have happened earlier than that.” She smirked at me. “You should eavesdrop.”
I snorted a laugh. “Sneak into the girl’s bathroom?”
“No, you boob.” She rolled her eyes. “Through the brand“
“How? So far I’ve only connected with people through dreams.”
“Same thing. Just close your eyes and imagine you’re dreaming of her. Eventually, your brain will catch on.”
“Sounds familiar,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes. I imagined Stephanie, and soon the blood starting rushing through my ears. Stephanie was fantasizing—about me. It was like watching a scene through a fishbowl. My cock stirred, becoming erect, as the scene seemed to shift from black and white to color.
In Stephanie’s fantasy, we were both naked. I had her bound to her bed. She’d always been a little kinky—her bed had leather straps on each of the four corners; she usually restrained her girlfriends but had always been vocal about hating to be tied. I kept watching, intrigued. The other me immediately hypnotized her: it was a very sensual induction. The other me called her ‘Squish’—a pet name that I’d used when we first met, because she was big and cuddly and gave really good, squishy hugs. She’d held on to the past. I’d stopped using it when CJ started suspecting us of being involved.
After the induction, the other me caressed her body, kissing her lips, then her neck, then her breasts, then her stomach. As that mouth continued down, I started to feel an objection rearing in my throat. It was like the fantasy immediately acknowledged my presence, and gave me the option to step into the other me—or Stephanie. The idea of experiencing what Stephanie was feeling was tempting, but I moved into myself instead.
I stumbled forward, and found her clitoris in my eye. The fantasy started to wobble; it felt like I was inside a water balloon. I recovered quickly, kissing my way up her body until I reached her lips. Then, I whispered, “Squish, all the pleasure you get from being eaten out, you’ll get from kissing me. Understand?”
“Mmmhmmmm.”
I planted one on her, then, toying with her tits. Almost immediately, she shrieked in orgasm. Good thing I can repurpose cunnilingus I thought. My turn. I felt odd—while I’d recently had sex with a lot of hypnotized women, usually they were awake by the time we’d fucked. Here, Stephanie was still in trance. Something tickled at the back of my mind.
“Squish,” I ventured, “do you want to stay hypnotized?”
“Yes.” She moaned. “Under.” She gasped as I climbed on top of her. As I began to enter her, she murmured, “Make me yours.”
As I began to slide into her, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“Mold me into what ever you want,” she said, in breaths, as she pushed her hips up against me.
As I thrusted again, I said, “So you want to do anything I say?”
She pushed back up. “Anything.”
Another thrust. “Any time I want?”
Another push. “Any time.”
And another thrust. “Anywhere?”
Another push. “Anywhere.”
“Anything. Anytime. Anywhere.” I thrust again.
“Anything. Anytime. Anywhere,” she gasped out through moans. “For you.”
I was getting pretty close to exploding. I thrust again. “Squish, when I come in you, you will belong to me, and you’ll wake from trance.”
“Yesssssss.” She exploded in another orgasm. With three more thrusts, she gasped out “Anything,” then “anytime.” Finally, “anywhere.” Then I exploded in her, and she came yet again. She sighed. “Your Squish.”
I collapsed on the bed next to her, and looked over at her as she opened her eyes and looked back at me. I smiled at her, and said, “My Squish.”
Then the fantasy ended, dissolving like a dream.
I was back in the restaurant, Heather looking at me, her eyes dancing with laughter. “That looked fun. What happened?”
“You couldn’t tell?”
Heather shrugged. “She’s branded, you’re numen. Where would I peek? But your auras were all kinds of colourful.” She dimpled a smile. “I think you ruined your pants, though.”
I waved it away. “Laundry will fix that.”
Stephanie came back to the table, looking disheveled. “Laundry will fix what?”
Heather laughed. “Andy’s pants.”
“Did he spill something?”
I winked at her. “Just some seed, Squish.”
She blushed all the way through dinner, and on the ride home.
Phoenix: Tuesday Evening
After dropping us off at my house, Stephanie got out of the car to give us one last hug (I told you she was a hugger). When she hugged me, she also gave me a kiss—and her eyes immediately flew open. I had to hold on to her as she shuddered with pleasure. “Wow!” She said, smiling at me. “If I’d known kissing you would feel like that, I’d have done it before.” I didn’t have the heart to remind her that she’d kissed me, drunkenly, back in Iowa (and I’d turned her down the next day).
Heather had no such decorum. “Didn’t you kiss him once?”
“Yeah, but I was drunk, and it definitely wasn’t like THAT.”
“I guess you’ll just have to kiss me again some time.”
She immediately pulled me into another kiss, squirming and gasping. “Oh, yeah. Anytime, Eric.” Her face scrunched in thought, as though she was almost remembering something else. “Something’s changed, hasn’t it?”
Heather grabbed my hand, dragging me away from Stephanie. “Well, we better be getting inside. It was good seeing you, Stevie.”
I waved at Stephanie, laughing as I was yanked up the walk. “Good night, Squish.”
Stephanie laughed and waved, climbing into her truck as she drove away.
As I unlocked the front door, I said to Heather, “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“I can’t help it.” She sighed. “It’s not like I can get my jealousy wiped away by a brand.” She grumbled. “I keep telling myself I should be used to this, but it never gets any easier.”
I pushed Heather up against the wall once we got inside. “Shall we get down to business?” I checked—she wasn’t wearing panties.
She blushed. “What did you have in mind?”
As she started to move in for a kiss, I let her go. “More ILYSKN stuff. I’m sure you haven’t told me everything.”
“Oh,” she said, deflating. “Right.” She took a deep breath, then glared at me, though I could still see a twinkle in her eyes. “Tease.”
“You know you love it.”
“Where were we?”
“ILYSKN. The Tribunal?”
“Well, first make sure you finish up with the program on the iPod, and then...”
We spent the rest of the night talking about preparations and protocols for the Tribunal.