As the gaggle of girls entered Heather’s room, they tossed their overnight bags in a corner. Samantha looked around the bedroom—she’d been there plenty of times before, and had slept over at the West household three or four times a year since she and Heather had become friends. The last time she’d been there had been a few weeks ago, but something seemed…different.
As she looked around the pink walls of the room, she noticed that a lot of the decorations that had been there just a month ago—the posters of BTS and One Direction, the magazine photos of Harry Styles and Timothée Chalamet—had been taken down. There were still some posters from Track & Field magazine as well as photos of the track team on the dresser, but the celebrity hotties that they were always giggling over—all of them were gone. Samantha wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Are you planning on redecorating, Heather?” Tricia asked, pointing to the bare walls.
Heather looked where Tricia was pointing towards and shrugged.
“Oh, the posters? No, it’s not that—I just…I lost interest, I guess. For some reason, they just…don’t appeal to me anymore, is the best way I can put it.”
“Huh,” Tricia said, her voice betraying a hint of confusion. “So, you got rid of all the posters?”
At this, Jenny chimed in.
“Hey, if you still have them somewhere and you don’t want them anymore, can I have them? Especially that shirtless one of Harry Styles—”
“If you’re giving them away, I want the BTS ones!” Tricia interrupted.
“I was just about to say that! BTS is my favorite band!”
“Well, Jenny, you should have asked for it first, instead of for Harry Styles,” Tricia retorted.
Heather winced slightly. “Sorry, but I already threw them away.”
Tricia’s eyes widened in mock shock. “How could you do that? Harry…Jung-kook…sweet Timothée…”
Jenny flopped down on the bed. “That sucks…those were nice posters. So, who are you into now? Tom Holland?”
“W-well, nobody at the moment,” Heather said quietly. “I think I’m, uhm, taking a break from…boys…at the moment.”
A momentary awkward silence ensued, which was broken by Samantha.
“Boys, schmoys, whatever. This weekend is all about us girls, anyway. We’re going to have fun and rock that regional!”
“Y-yeah, that’s right,” Jenny said, trying to lighten the mood as well. “By the time the weekend’s over, we’re going to have so many trophies we’ll need to hire a van to carry them back home.”
“We’ll show our rivals at Central High that Lansdale High has the absolute best track team in the county,” Tricia agreed.
Samantha chuckled slightly as she listened to her friends bantering back and forth. No matter what they said now, she knew two things would happen at the regionals: one, that Jenny and Tricia would be trying to find excuses to chat up boys from other schools’ teams as often as possible; and second, that they’d be lucky to end up with even a handful of bronze and silver medals, all things considered.
Heather had already set up sleeping bags and pillows next to her bed, and the girls took off their shoes and sat down on the floor as they continued excitedly talking about the track meet.
Tricia began to review the team’s baton relay strategy, reviewing the runners’ order. Heather looked towards the alarm clock on the nightstand next to her bed and then, as though remembering something, stood up.
“I should go get us some snacks and drinks,” she said, smiling. “Sam, could you help me bring some stuff up?”
“I-I guess so—I mean, I’m not that hungry, but I guess I could go for some kombucha, if you have some,” Samantha said, a bit bemused.
“Oh, do you want me and Jenny to help you guys carry the food upstairs too?” Tricia asked, moving off the pillow she was sitting on.
“No, no, you two stay here,” Heather quickly replied, motioning for Tricia to stay seated. “Sam and I can handle it.”
“Uh, okay, then,” Tricia shrugged, nonplussed.
As Heather and Samantha headed towards the door, Jenny and Tricia looked at each other in slight confusion. No one had even hinted at being hungry, but maybe Heather was just trying to be a good hostess, they figured.
With the two more responsible track members out of the room, Jenny and Tricia turned to talking about one of their favorite topics—the cute boys they’d undoubtedly be meeting at the competition.
“I’ve set everything up in the knitting room—you can come upstairs now,” Eddie heard his mother’s voice calling out to him from the second floor.
Eddie stretched a bit as he stood up from the chair where he’d been sitting most of the day, and closed his laptop. He had been googling the equipment list he’d found for the bunker, but even with the descriptions, he still wasn’t sure what most of the stuff was.
It’ll be good to take a break from all this research, he thought. Though he’d never done yoga before, he figured it couldn’t be too challenging. Mom wasn’t particularly athletic, so he figured whatever she’d done at Mrs. West’s house had been a low-impact workout.
He bounded up the stairs and headed towards what his mom called the ‘knitting room.’ It was a nice name for what was essentially a storage room at the end of the hallway. A few years ago, Mom had remodeled it, turning it into an arts and crafts space for her various creative hobbies. There was a sewing machine, boxes of yarn and several types of knitting needles, even some pastels and sketchbooks for use in the art classes Mom occasionally took. Still, since making doilies, sweaters, and scarfs was her favorite pastime, the family had taken to calling that particular space the knitting room.
Eddie walked past his parents’ room, his own room, and the bathroom, reaching the end of the long hallway. He absentmindedly wondered why Mom had chosen the knitting room for the yoga session—maybe she was planning on turning her arts and crafts room into a yoga space, he considered, then shook his head. That’s a silly thought, he chuckled to himself.
As he opened the door, he saw that Mom had taken a blue futon and placed it in the center of the room. Mom herself was standing next to it, barefoot, with her hair tied in a ponytail, and wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, its belt tightly knotted around her waist. In one hand, she was holding a small plastic bottle.
Eddie cocked his head in confusion. Why had Mom put out a futon instead of a yoga mat? Why was she wearing a bathrobe instead of her workout clothes? And what was the bottle she was holding? He was about to ask for some clarification, when Mom interrupted his train of thought.
“I don’t have any of that special lotion we’re supposed to use, but I do have this baby oil, which I suppose can do in a pinch,” she said, placing it in Eddie’s hand.
“Huh? Baby oil?” Eddie cocked his head slightly and looked at the plastic bottle, which had a pink label—‘Johnson’s Baby Oil.’ He’d seen the bottle before, of course—Mom typically kept it in the bathroom she shared with dad, where she used it as part of her skin care routine (or so Eddie assumed).
“Mom, this is kinda weird, I don’t understand—“
“You said you were going to help me with my yoga routine, weren’t you?” she asked, as though that cleared up anything.
“Sure, but…I mean…well, the futon and…the baby oil…”
“I know, dear, it’s not the most conventional way of doing things.”
“That’s for sure. Why don’t you use a yoga—“
“I’ll buy an inflatable bed eventually, but I’m sure the futon is usable for today.”
“Hmm. You are new at this, after all. Why don’t I just walk you through how it’s done? We’ll go step by step, just the way I learned how to do it.” Mom gave Eddie a slight smile, as though to reassure him that he wasn’t a complete dummy just because he couldn’t understand anything that was going on.
What the heck kinda yoga uses an inflatable bed and baby oil?
Eddie was scratching the back of his head in confusion when his mother walked past him and closed the knitting room door. He heard a ‘click’ as she went an extra step and locked the room.
She turned to face him, and Eddie looked at her. She had a funny expression on her face and was looking at the floor, as though she were embarrassed to meet his eyes.
Then, just as Eddie was about to ask her to explain what the actual yoga routine consisted of, he saw his mother reach down towards the belt around her waist that tied her fluffy bathrobe closed, and she undid the knot (if he had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed her hands were trembling). Then, once it was untied, in one swift motion, she shrugged the bathrobe off her body using her shoulders, and it dropped onto the floor.
Eddie’s jaw dropped open in complete and utter shock.
His mother stood in front of him, totally naked.
Jenny and Tricia sat on the floor, chatting away as they waited for Samantha and Heather to come back with the snacks and drinks.
“So, Jenny, why do you think Heather really took down all those posters?” Tricia asked, gesturing towards the blank walls of their friend’s bedroom.
“Mmm, maybe the thing with Eddie really hit her harder than we thought,” Jenny mused. “I kinda feel bad now for having asked her so many questions about it. His skeeziness probably turned her off boys for life.”
“What she needs is a casual hook-up. You know, to distract her from Eddie, remind her that she’s, like, totes hot and desirable,” Tricia asserted, as though she knew what she were talking about. “Maybe we could scope some hot guy during the regional, give him Heather’s digits, and watch the sparks fly.”
“Uhh, I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Trish. I read in Seventeen that rebound relationships can be super toxic. Like, they can stop you from truly healing from a breakup, because you’re avoiding dealing with your emotions.”
Tricia was about to offer a rebuttal when there was a knock on the bedroom door.
“Come in?” Tricia asked, slightly unsure. It couldn’t be Heather, as she wouldn’t bother to knock. Maybe Mrs. West had come home?
The door opened—it was Heather’s older brother, Timothy, his face slightly flushed. Tricia and Jenny barely interacted with him, so they didn’t know him very well, but they’d always found him to be a bit…odd. Probably because it was obvious he had zero experience interacting with girls, so the brief conversations they’d had with him were awkward and uncomfortable. Plus, Tricia was pretty sure he stared at her chest whenever he thought her attention was elsewhere. She wouldn’t have minded so much if he were good-looking, but he was plain, a little chubby…certainly no one’s idea of boyfriend material.
“Ehm, er…J-Jenny? Your, uh, your mom’s calling you, ehm, downstairs, from our landline,” Timothy said from the doorway.
“Huh? She called the house?” Jenny frowned slightly and grabbed her smartphone from her schoolbag. “That’s weird…I don’t have any missed calls…why didn’t she just call me or text me on my phone?”
“Uhmm…I don’t know…she said, uh…she couldn’t reach you? Or something? She sounded a little upset.”
“Oh no,” Jenny said, blanching. She stood up and walked towards the door. “I wonder what’s wrong.”
Timothy moved to let her walk past him. “The, uh, the phone’s in the living room,” he called out to her, as Jenny trotted through the hallway and down the stairs. Once she was out of sight, he turned back and looked at Tricia.
Tricia stared at him, her face scrunching up to show mild annoyance. Why was he still hanging around in the doorway? Ew, I hope he doesn’t try to make conversation or talk me up—the last thing I need is to have to awkwardly shoot down this dork’s expectations if he actually tries to make a pass at me or something, Tricia thought.
“So, uhm, Tricia, you guys have a big competition all, uh, weekend, right?”
“Yes, we do,” Tricia replied, trying to think of a polite (but firm) way of ending the conversation before it went any further.
“I bet it’s tough, running all those races and…stuff,” Timothy said sympathetically.
“That’s…what we’ve been practicing for,” she replied, a pained look on her face. Take a hint, she thought.
“I bet you need a lot of mental focus for those types of events,” Timothy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness of the conversation. “I actually have, like, some techniques that could help you all with that.”
“That’s, uh, very interesting, but I don’t—I don’t think we need anything like that,” Tricia demurred. He really is trying to use any excuse to keep talking to me, isn’t he? Mental focus techniques—from him? He must think I’m stupid.
“You see, I found this…uh, this thing that can really help with mental focusing,” Timothy said, reaching into the waistband of his pants. Tricia flinched slightly, momentarily panicking and thinking he was going to pull an Eddie and flash her, but all he did was pull out a cheap-looking toy gun. “Isn’t it cool?”
Tricia didn’t quite know how to reply without offending him. In his right hand, Timothy was holding a ray gun, like the type you would see in old ‘60s sci-fi TV shows.
“I’m—I’m not really into science-fiction, Timothy,” Tricia replied, lamely.
“Oh, it’s-it’s not science-fiction,” Timothy said as he manipulated some sort of dial on the toy. “Let me show you.”
“Uhm, that’s really not necessary. Like, I honestly don’t ca—“
Tricia’s sentence went unfinished as Timothy pressed a button on the ray gun. The last thing she heard before the world went black was the sound of static.
Jenny found the telephone handset resting next to its cradle, and rushed to pick it up. She wondered why her mother had called—if she really was in a bad mood, like Heather’s brother had indicated, it was probably something bad. Jenny knew her mother would be willing to cancel the trip to the regionals and take her home if she was upset enough, so she’d have to tread carefully.
“Hello, Mama?” asked Jenny as she put the handset to her ear.
What she heard on the other end was a dial tone. Mama must have hung up, frustrated at having been kept waiting.
Jenny decided to head back upstairs and call her from her smartphone. She tried to think about any reason Mama would have to be upset, but came up empty—Jenny had been responsible and done all her homework before leaving—she’d even cleaned up her bedroom and taken out the trash.
As she walked back towards the staircase, she saw Heather and Samantha standing at the kitchen’s entrance out of the corner of her eye. She turned on her heels and went over to them.
“Hey, guys,” she said. “Did either of you get a chance to talk to my mom when she called? Do you know why she—“
She stopped mid-sentence as she realized neither of the two seemed to be listening to her. In fact, there was something…off about the way they were standing. Samantha was sort of leaning sideways, and Heather’s head was tilted slightly to one side, as though she’d fallen asleep while standing up. But it was when she looked at their faces that she realized something was really wrong. Their eyes were glazed over, and Samantha had a bit of drool dripping off the right corner of her mouth, and down her chin.
Jenny’s first thought was that there must be some sort of gas leak in the kitchen that had incapacitated the two. She didn’t know much about how gas leaks worked, but that was the only explanation that she found even slightly plausible. She was headed back towards the living room to call 911 when she saw Heather’s brother coming down the stairs. He was holding what looked like a plastic sci-fi pistol in his right hand—she knew he was into geeky hobbies, and assumed it was some Star Wars toy, so she paid it little mind.
“Hey, uhm…Timothy? Something’s really wrong with Samantha and your sister, I think they’re…I think they must have inhaled some weird fumes or…or something. We have to call an ambulance!”
“Huh?” He said, his eyebrows furrowing together. “They look fine to me. Hi guys!” He waved towards them with his left hand.
Jenny turned back just to see what he was waving towards. Both girls were still standing in the same position as before. As she turned away from Timothy, she failed to see him raise the gun, carefully aim it at her, and fire.
Jenny heard a short, sharp crackling sound, and was enveloped in total darkness.
This was wrong, Eddie knew. It was deeply wrong. Morally, ethically. But he was finding it difficult to think, couldn’t formulate his objections coherently.
And the reason for that? His mother—his own mother—was giving him a handjob.
After Mom had taken off her robe, and Eddie had gotten over his shock, he’d looked away, told her to get dressed, asked her what the hell she was thinking. But instead of saying anything, she’d wordlessly pulled down Eddie’s boxers and started using her right hand to gently stroke his cock.
Of course, the blood flow to his penis had increased, he’d gotten an erection—it was a physiological reaction, not a sexual one. The feeling of someone else’s hand gently rubbing his shaft was something he had never experienced before. And when she’d pressed her bare chest against him, and he’d felt her stiff nipples, his member had become even harder.
Eddie had never had sexual feelings towards his mother. He rolled his eyes in annoyance whenever Yang or Tim made MILF jokes about her. And the thought had never entered his mind that his mother might feel any way about him other than as a cherished son.
So what was all this? Had Mom harbored incestuous feelings for him all along? Was this ‘yoga’ thing just an excuse she was using to…do things…with him? Was it all an elaborate act for his benefit, meant to disguise what she really wanted the two of them to do? It didn’t make any sense. And what about Dad? Didn’t Mom realize how, if he ever found out, this would utterly destroy him? A hundred questions flashed through his mind in an instant, and he had answers for exactly none of them.
Perhaps if he’d been a bit calmer, if his mother weren’t naked, if she weren’t gripping his cock, if it didn’t feel so good, he would have put two and two together much more easily. But the idea that his mother had been mind controlled, that she genuinely thought ‘yoga’ consisted of acts she would normally have found indecent and immoral, that would normally have repulsed her, didn’t even enter his thoughts. After all, what he’d been researching was still, as far as he was concerned, just theoretical.
And as Mom’s pumped her hand back and forth on his cock, Eddie realized that he had unconsciously begun thrusting his hips back and forth. He moaned softly, the sound a mixture of self-disgust and pleasure.
His mother pressed herself closer to him, and he could feel the warmth emanating from her body, her breath on his ear, could smell the scent of soap and light perfume.
“Don’t you want to use that body oil on me?” she whispered into his ear. Eddie could only moan in response.
“And then…you and I…could try out…so many yoga positions together,” Eddie’s mother continued.
Yoga positions, Eddie thought. Was she implying what he…thought she was implying?
“You can put your…thing…in me…we can join our chakras,” she said, putting a special emphasis on the words ‘join’ and ‘chakras.’
Just the thought of that was too much for Eddie. His whole body trembled as his cock exploded, a jet stream of jizz gushing out. He shivered as a powerful orgasm ran through his body. After a moment, he looked down to see his softening penis, still being caressed by Mom. He’d ejaculated all over his mother’s hand.
“Oh…oh my goodness,” Mom said, looking at the puddle of semen on the floor. “I never thought there’d…there’d be so much.”
Eddie, breathing heavily, turned his face towards her.
An hour later.
Tim’s eyes moved left to right as he gazed at the beauties in front of him. He was sitting in the desk chair, in his sister’s bedroom. In front of him were Heather, Tricia, Jenny, and Samantha, sitting next to each other on the bed. All four were under the influence of the mind control gun, their eyes dull and glassy. Heather was already fully under his control, but the other three girls had just finished listening to the guide to obedience. They were ready, primed to receive and accept Tim’s commands.
Initially, Tim had just thought of zapping them with the ray gun one after the other as soon as they got to the house, but he quickly realized just how risky that could be. If he wasn’t fast enough, or if the gun needed to recharge (he had never tried to use it on consecutive subjects one right after another), one of the girls could conceivably wrestle the gun away from him, and it would have been game over right then and there. No, he’d realized, it was better to be careful.
Once he put his plan into effect, it had been so easy to trick each of the girls into being alone in order to use the ray gun on them. Of course, he’d had Heather’s help; she hadn’t known the exact details of what he planned to do, but she nevertheless got Samantha downstairs by herself, as per his wishes. Then Tim had handled the fake phone call from Jenny’s mother (when she’d wondered why her mother hadn’t just texted her, Tim made sure to add that she’d sounded upset—Heather had told him that Jenny’s mom was super strict). Finally, Tricia had been left by herself, giving Tim the chance to zap her.
And now, here they all were. He had controlled his sister as well—she was part of a scenario he had in mind for the track and field foursome.
Tim took the whole situation in for a moment. It was the first time he’d really been able to look at Heather’s track and field teammates—really look at them, not just furtively glance at them when they came over to hang out with his sister.
Jenny Li was slim, short, with an athletic physique. Her lovely hazel eyes stared out into nowhere. She didn’t have much of a chest, but her body was nicely proportioned otherwise. Impulsively, Tim gently stroked her cheek. She’d always been the nicest of the three, even though it was clear she had zero interest in him.
Then, he turned to Tricia Moore, looked into her big blue-green eyes. Tim knew that Tricia had never cared much for him, probably because he was unpopular—he knew she was only interested in cool, muscular guys—the school jocks. Nevertheless, when she wasn’t blabbering away, her freckled face was absolutely adorable. He looked down at her massive, gravity-defying jugs and grinned lecherously.
Finally, he stared at Samantha. Wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, a light tan, a fit, sexy body. She was the one girl who’d been off-limits to everyone, the school’s top babe who was dating Doug, the big man on campus. Tim didn’t have anything personal against Doug—in fact, Doug had always been nice to him (most likely because he knew Tim was the brother of Samantha’s best friend). But that hadn’t stopped Tim from resenting the shit out of the guy whenever he saw him walking down the school hallway, his arm on Samantha’s shoulder, or whenever he saw the happy couple whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears as they hung out near the senior lockers.
A thought suddenly occurred to him, a question he normally would never have dared voice out loud.
“Samantha, are you a virgin?”
“…Is Doug the only guy you’ve been with, Samantha?”
Tim was a little disappointed, but not surprised. Ideally, he would have liked to have been the ‘first’ for all three girls, just as he’d been with Heather. But considering how long she’d been dating Doug, he’d assumed that the two of them had already been intimate. Still, it gave him an idea—maybe he could incorporate Samantha’s sexual experience into the scenario that he had in mind. With Ms. Davis, the scenario had been a relatively simple one—that she was on her dream vacation with her boyfriend. What he’d come up with for the track and field members was somewhat different.
When Heather had first mentioned the sleepover, Tim had immediately known it was the perfect opportunity to add the track and field team to his harem (he was slowly getting more comfortable with using that term to describe the women he’d enslaved). Currently, said harem consisted primarily of older women—Ms. Davis was in her mid-thirties, Mom and Mrs. Berger were in their forties. Only Heather was in Tim’s own age range. He’d already been planning on adding some of the girls from school to his ‘collection,’ but Heather’s friends sleeping over had accelerated that process.
Heather had been (surprisingly) shocked when Tim told her he was aiming for Jenny, Tricia, and Samantha. She’d even tried to dissuade him, telling him that surely there were other girls better suited for him than her friends—Tim had had to resort to the mind control gun to get her to acquiesce and make her somewhat comfortable with the idea. His mother, on the other hand, had made no objections, had even promised to stay out of the way for the evening by heading out to a yoga session so that Tim could enjoy himself.
At first, he’d just thought of making the three of them into his loving slaves, as he’d done with Mom, Heather, and Ms. Davis (the doubts he’d previously had about major personality alterations had vanished). And indeed, that was the ultimate goal. But before that, Tim reasoned, he could have a little bit of fun, experiment a little bit.
There were a few things he wanted to try out with the girls—first, he wanted to further explore what he’d done with Ms. Davis, trying to see to what extent mental commands could affect physical sensations. To what extent could he make the girls more sensitive, make it easier for them to become sexually excited? What about other tactile sensations—could he make it so that a girl felt no pain when losing her virginity? Could he increase their stamina and make them more focused on giving Tim pleasure? If those things worked, Tim had some still-vague ideas of how he could use that. But, for now…
“All right—Heather, Samantha, Jenny, Tricia…the commands I will give from now on will apply to all of you. Nod if you understand.”
The four girls nodded almost simultaneously.
“All right…listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you all…”
Samantha blinked slowly, her eyes focusing on her surroundings. Had she fallen asleep? What had she been doing? Her mouth felt dry. She frowned and shook her head, trying to get rid of the cobwebs between her ears.
She looked around—Heather’s bedroom. She was sitting on the bed next to her friends, all of who were, just like her, shaking their heads, blinking, and looking somewhat bleary-eyed, as though they had all woken up from a long nap. Heather was rubbing her eyes with her hands, while Jenny yawned and Tricia worked out a crick in her neck.
Sitting on a chair in front of her was…Heather’s brother, Timothy, wearing only a pair of striped boxers, the rest of his clothing tossed haphazardly on the floor. He was looking apprehensively at Samantha and the other three girls, one hand rubbing his left knee, the other holding some sort of toy which he carefully put on top of Heather’s desk.
What the hell?
She was about to shout at him when she suddenly realized—that the person she was looking at wasn’t Heather’s brother at all. It was the world-famous focusing coach, the one who’d come over to train them how to concentrate better before tomorrow’s regional competition. And if he was training them in just his boxers, there must be a logical reason for it.
How could she have made such a silly mistake, confusing him with Timothy?
“So, how do you ladies feel after our meditation session?” Coach asked.
Samantha’s friends looked at each other in slight confusion, and then it seemed as though comprehension dawned on all of them nearly simultaneously. Tricia was the first one to answer Coach’s question.
“Wow, that was awesome!” the redhead said, smiling widely. “I feel so refreshed!”
“Yeah,” Jenny said, following up. “It’s as though I just had a spa session or something.”
“My body is all tingly, like there’s electricity running through my veins or something,” Heather added. “I feel like I could go on a run and break all my personal best records.”
And then Samantha could sense it too, as though every hair in her body was standing on end, like static electricity, almost. She reflexively rubbed her hand against her right arm to see if she could feel the goosebumps on her skin, and almost let out an involuntary gasp. The sensation was…incredible. She closed her eyes for a moment, and realized she could feel everything touching her body—her bra against her chest, her underwear against her crotch, her skirt over her thighs…every time the cloth came into contact with her bare skin, the sensation was…pleasurable. Almost overwhelmingly so.
“Coach,” Samantha gasped, “My body…everything feels…it’s…I can’t explain it in words, but…wow!”
“Good,” Coach smiled, “The meditation was effective. Now, uhm…you’re all ready for what comes next.”
Without a word, Coach stood up from where he had been sitting…and, putting his hands to his waistband, he dropped his boxers to the ground, exposing his erect penis to the four girls in front of him.
Samantha’s eyes went wide in shock.
Tim was giddy with delight—he couldn’t believe how well his commands were working! He was having a hard time thinking straight, too…his heart was thumping against his ribcage and adrenaline was rushing through his veins, a combination of nervousness and sexual excitement. And something more—the indescribable rush that came with having power over others.
Jenny, Samantha, Tricia, and his sister, Heather. He knew that all four of them had looked down on him, seen him as nothing more than a chubby loser, Heather’s annoying brother who wasted his time playing video games, MMOs, and TCGs.
How many times had Samantha turned up her nose at him whenever she dropped by to hang out with Heather, even when she’d been just a little brat? How many times had he overheard Tricia and Jenny giggling and chatting with each other, talking about track competitions, and who the hottest boys in school were, knowing that he was never going to be on their lists of potential boyfriends? And how many times had Heather admonished Tim to let him know her friends were coming over and that he was not to disturb them while they were there?
Well, now the tables were turned. With the scenario he had created in their minds, Tim was no longer Heather’s brother—he was ‘Coach,’ a world-renowned expert in increasing athletes’ focus and guaranteeing success at track and field competitions. His techniques had led to hundreds of record-breaking performances by female athletes. Receiving a training session from Coach was as valuable as a dozen Olympic gold medals.
And now, Coach was here, in Heather’s room, deigning to give these four young women firsthand lessons on how to focus and improve their performance. For a group of athletes who were worried about how the results for the upcoming competition, and who were hoping to get athletic scholarships for college, Coach’s visit was a blessing from above.
They would do anything (absolutely anything) Coach ordered them to do if it led to their success. As far as the four girls were concerned, his word was law, and anything that they were told to do was an absolutely necessary component for victory—and nothing was off-limits, no matter how outlandish, offensive, or immoral they might normally have found it.
Not only had Tim placed that particular scenario and the belief that they had to do whatever their coach asked of them, but he’d also made a few other alterations besides.
First, he’d lowered their sexual inhibitions—things that the four girls would normally see as absolutely taboo were no longer forbidden, as long as it was Coach who was ordering them to do it. This order had proven particularly tricky with Jenny, who’d had a fairly conservative upbringing, but she’d eventually accepted it.
Then, he’d heightened their sexual sensitivity. Anything that touched the surface of their skin would be arousing—clothing and fabric, of course, but especially each other. Tim was curious to see how the girls would react when they realized that touching each other brought on incredible pleasure. Their reaction to the question he’d asked about the ‘meditation’ (another false memory he had implanted to disguise the fact that all four were awakening from being under the control of the ray gun) proved to him that this command seemed to be working just fine.
Knowing that Jenny and Tricia were both virgins, he’d also implemented pain blockers so that they wouldn’t feel any pain when Tim had sex with the both of them (as he fully planned to). And in Heather, he’d temporarily suppressed all the previous changes he’d made in her. As far as she knew, she was still a blushing virgin (all the memories of her sexual experiences with Tim and Mom were gone for the moment).
At this point, the moral implications of what Tim was about to do didn’t even enter his mind—he was too far gone for that. Where he might once have shuddered with horror at the realization that the girls he was controlling weren’t just puppets, but were instead thinking, independent beings, all he saw now were beautiful pieces of flesh, who existed to bring him selfish sexual pleasure, to enact fantasy scenarios for Tim’s benefit. Throughout his high school years, he had looked on in envy at the popular guys and their beautiful girlfriends. But how many of those guys had four of the most attractive girls in school under their complete control? Of course, those ‘popular guys’ who Tim envied so much actually had romantic relationships based on trust and understanding, not the artificially created feelings that Tim was implementing on his subjects via mind control. But Tim couldn’t be bothered to see that particular distinction.
Now he stood in front of the four girls, completely naked and unashamed, his penis fully engorged. He delighted in the four girls’ reactions, his nervousness only showing in the slight trembling of his hands.
Jenny was looking away, her face beet-red, eyes firmly closed in shock. Tricia had covered her face with her hands, but Tim thought he could see one eye peeking out in curiosity between her fingers. Heather was looking down at her skirt, occasionally turning her eyes up before looking down again. And Samantha? She was just staring at his cock in what seemed to be complete shock. She was, however, the first one to recover enough to speak.
“Coach, what the…what do you think you’re doing?” she said, perhaps trying to sound defiant, but failing miserably. She didn’t want to disrespect the one man who was guaranteed to bring them success on the field, after all. Medals and potential scholarships were riding on the weekend’s competition.
“This?” Tim said, pointing down at his penis. “This is, uhm, just the next step in our training, ladies. Let’s have a quick show of hands. How many of you are, uh..sexually experienced? With boys, I mean.”
At this question, a couple of the girls gasped. Jenny turned her face towards the floor, but Heather and Tricia turned expectantly towards Samantha, who was slowly, reluctantly raising her hand.
“I…I guess I am…but…why? W-what does this have to do with focusing?” She said, her face scrunched up in obvious discomfort.
“Well, when you and your…significant other…are having sex…aren’t you entirely focused on pleasing each other, and on the pleasure you’re receiving? And do you feel an incredible afterglow after you’ve…uh…done the deed?”
Samantha’s face, which had already been red with embarrassment, seemed to become, if anything, even redder. She wasn’t dumb—she could see where this conversation was going. But, as Tim’s commands had made her subservient to the wishes of her ‘Coach,’ he knew she had to answer. And so, after a few moments, she hesitantly nodded.
“I-I suppose so…”
“Well, then…no wonder you’re the star athlete of the team. You’ve already inadvertently practiced one of the most powerful focusing techniques there is.”
“Of course, I’m, uhm, I’m sure your boyfriend isn’t as skilled as a professional, uh, such as myself, but…all the great athletes have sex before big competitions. It helps them focus, gives them the edge that they need for absolute victory.”
Samantha looked skeptical. Tim continued.
“Every time they hold an Olympics, the athletes are constantly having sex with each other—and it’s not just because it feels good. It’s because it provides them with, uh, the focus they need to succeed. You’ve probably heard how, whenever there’s an Olympics, the competitors go through thousands upon thousands of condoms. It’s not just because they want to fuck—it’s because it helps them perform better out on the field.” Tim knew the latter half was bullshit—he’d actually googled urban myths once and found that the whole thing about sex boosting athletic performance was complete bunk. But Samantha and the other girls didn’t know that—in fact, anything their focusing coach said to them had to be true. Their minds had been programmed to accept it.
“W-wait, so what you’re saying is…,” Tricia spoke up. She’d just connected the dots, apparently.
“You can’t mean…,” Heather added, a look of horror dawning upon her face.
“What are you guys talking about?” Jenny asked, confused.
“Our competition’s tomorrow…so, just to be clear, Coach, what you’re p-proposing…is…,” Samantha gulped, afraid to complete the sentence.
Tim nodded, feigning confidence. Moment of truth, he thought to himself.
“That’s right, ladies. To ensure your competitive success tomorrow…we’re going to have to fuck.”