Mind Control
by Pan
“Please,” Denise whimpered. Her mind was racing.
I shouldn’t be doing this, she reminded herself as a flush ran across her skin. He’s my brother…I shouldn’t be kissing him, I shouldn’t be letting him touch me…like this…
And I certainly shouldn’t be fucking him.
Harold looked up from between her legs, where his talented tongue was hard at work.
“Sshhhh,” he said gently, before returning to his task, enjoying the soft moans of Denise’s pleasure.
God, he thought to himself. I have the hottest fucking sister in the world. This is so wrong…but it feels so good…
Mind control. What a rort.
It sounds like the dream, doesn’t it? Well, here’s the thing—y’know how you can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do?
I’d absolutely kill to have that limitation.
My name’s Suzanne, but most people call me Suzie. Don’t call me Sue.
(Seriously, don’t.)
And I have the ability to control minds.
Great, right? Yeah, you’d think so. I was pretty pumped when I found out. But here’s the thing—the ability to control minds…it’s not what you’d think.
See, I can control minds, but I can’t control bodies. Actions. People.
I can change what someone thinks, but only if—and this is a pretty big if—it doesn’t affect what they were going to do anyway.
Ridiculous, hey?
So if someone’s driving down the street, I can change their reality. I can make them think they’re a doctor, or a heroin addict, or make them think they’re a fictional character, driving through the world of the Simpsons.
What I can’t do is anything that makes them stop driving. If they’re going to the pool, I can make them think they’re a doctor, but I can’t redirect their route to the hospital, or stop them from going for a swim.
It’s…well, it’s pretty much useless.
When I first learned about the power, my thought was that I could go into a bank and command them to give me money. Turns out I can…as long as they were going to do that anyway.
I basically have the amazing power of “being able to withdraw money from my own account.”
So yeah. I’m never going to be able to rule the world…well, not unless I was going to do that anyway. And most people with this power; they don’t think about it—it’s too frustrating. The limitations are stupid…pointless, you might say.
And that’s why I’m so proud of myself.
See, I can’t use it to take over the world. But I’ve managed to have my fair share of fun with my abilities.
How?
Well, you see, I’m a pervert.
Alfie gulped as Nicole walked towards him. She was so sexy, and he knew what they were doing was so, so wrong…but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted her, and she wanted him…
…and they were going to make a baby together.
Nicole smiled up at him, those big brown eyes that he loved so much.
“Let’s do it,” she said.
She wasn’t wearing anything under her skirt. She rarely did, these days, since learning that her Daddy wanted to knock her up. Every time they got a chance, every time they were together, she’d unzip him, pull his cock out, and slip right onto it.
Her mother didn’t suspect a thing.
See, the thing about the internet is not only that it has everything you’re looking for…it teaches you about things you’d never think to look for in the first place.
Incest porn. Maybe before the internet that was a thing, but I feel like the ’net has been responsible for its Golden Age.
Not the stuff with little kids, by the way. I’m talking about consenting adults—brothers and sister, fully-grown daughters and their dads, moms and their adult sons.
I don’t know why, but holy crap does incest porn tickle my fancy. I don’t think I’ve cum thinking about anything since I first found it. The lonely housewife, turning her attention to her studly son…the married woman, getting seduced by her lesbian little sister.
But here’s the thing—if these people were out in public, if you didn’t know them, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell that they were related. Like, unless they look really similar—I don’t look much like my brother (and, for the record, I’m not at all attracted to him)…and so if you go into a food court, any couple that you find could be an incest couple.
It’s statistically unlikely that any of them are, sure…but it’s possible.
And that’s the beauty of it.
“Mmmm…” Mark moaned, louder. Scott looked up from under the bedsheets.
“Sshhhh,” he whispered, a huge grin on his face. “Do you want us to get caught?”
A little, Mark thought to himself, but he made sure to keep his moans quiet. His brother was right—they couldn’t get caught. Although the look on their Dad’s face if he walked in, found his two football-playing sons in bed together, lips wrapped around each other’s cock, naked, making each other cum…
It would almost be worth it.
The game was simple. I’d go out to the mall, or sit in a coffee shop. I’d wait until I found an obvious couple—not just any couple though, I had criteria. They have to look the same, for one—no interracial couples, or drastically differently-shaped faces.
And their ages had to fit one of a few different categories. Either within a few years of each other (for whatever reason, when the gap was too large, it just didn’t work for me) or a whole generation apart. Older men with younger women, or—occasionally—vice-versa.
I’d watch them for a while, make sure that they were definitely together, try to get a feel for their relationship…and then I’d start to make the alterations.
When I started out, I’d open with small tweaks. Nowadays I don’t even bother—after all, I can’t change their behavior. No matter what I do, they’re going to act the same…so I just make the changes, sit back, and watch.
From my point of view, you could argue that there’s no difference. But you’d be wrong—there’s something so hot about knowing the cute couple sharing a milkshake think that they’re siblings, that they’re having an incestuous affair.
She’s no longer just a second wife trying to get pregnant—she’s his grown-up daughter, now living with her father, trying to get him to knock him up. Gay couples are suddenly hiding two secrets from their parents, middle-aged married couples suddenly have a lifetime of taboo behind them…
My power may not be much. But honestly, considering the limitations, I’m proud of what I’ve managed to do with it.
Next time you’re in a public place, look around. Those two teens cuddling up…they’re probably just high-school sweethearts, but maybe they’re something more. Or—just as good—maybe they think they’re something more.
Happy hunting.