I'm a thirty year old male (I don't flatter myself with the term man) and have had a very active, if not very imaginative, fantasy life for nearly all my life. When I was young, I used to picture myself in the roles of my heroes: Robin Hood, He-Man, Dr. Doom, Superman, even Godzilla. As you can see, these figments of popular fiction had the one thing I most certainly lacked--power. Their boundaries, whether it be for heroic acts, acts of strength or intellect, or mere destructive power, were nearly unlimited. For a young boy of my mediocre abilities, imagining myself without boundaries was heady stuff indeed.

As I got older and more and more awkward with the onset of that horrible time called puberty, when all your instincts tell you to do things that your upbringing has not prepared you in the least to do, my fantasy life, quite predictably, took on sexual elements. No longer was it enough to perform heroic acts in my mind; I must perform heroic acts in my mind for one of the beauties in whatever class I was sitting, earning, of course, the hero's reward. Great feats of strength, intellect, or destructive power were now geared to the fulfillment of my puerile adolescent fantasies, which was as it should have been.

I was not, throughout junior high and high school, the most popular of children. In fact, I might have been considered one of those rare boys whom both the jocks and the nerds, as well as every girl concerned at all with the opinions of others (in other words, every girl) despised. I don't believe it was because of my looks, which although plain, were not particularly repulsive. Nor do I believe it was through any intellectual defect, since, although I was no genius, school came reasonably easy to me. It is, to this day, like so much of the interactions between human beings, inexplicable to me why I was so reviled.

It does not matter, for it was so, and it drove me ever deeper into my fantasy life. One of my favorite fantasies, one which I would replay over and over again in my mind, was the Genie in the Bottle fantasy. Simply, I, through luck or need or the righting of the cosmic balance, would receive or come upon an old, elaborate bottle which contained a Genie. Out pops the Genie, male or female or ether depending upon my mood, ready to grant me the three wishes every Genie seems to have stored away in some cosmic pool of wonder. Of course, as every boy knows, Genies are apt to play unfairly, delighting in twisting every innocent sounding wish into something to torment the wisher. No, in my fantasy it was not safe merely to wish for something from my Genie; I must, through torturous mental application, frame my wishes so exactly, with multitudes of conditions and exceptions, that sometimes I failed to complete even one wish before the real world rudely pulled me away from the attainment of my fondest desires.

These desires were, without saying, mundane in the most extreme sense: wealth, power, and the adoration of men and women, especially women. I thought up thousands of ways to frame these wishes, and imagined thousands of ways in which I could enjoy their fruits. It was all rather pathetic, I know, but I was young and unpopular, a curse worse than any witch or demon or goblin ever placed on some poor upright soul in all the literature in the world. So that was the state of things as I entered college, grateful to escape the reality of high school and hoping to make new, or any, friends, and especially looking forward to my first sexual experience, since everyone knew college girls were easy.

College, sadly, did not turn out to be the social bonanza I was hoping for. That black cloud over my head, that evil mojo that I could not shake, that unknown quantity or quality which I possessed, followed me to my new society, subtly alienating everyone around me until I was left as I had always been left, alone with my fantasies. Although it was something I was used to, it was nonetheless a terrible blow; I had raised my hopes so high, believed so much, that a new place would mean a new me, that I was devastated when it turned out to be untrue. I felt betrayed, cast out, worthless.

It was in this state I spent the first two years of my college existence, with only my increasingly complex fantasy life sustaining me. Now I was President or Governor or had Mental Powers or wielded some other great amount of power in some other way, and slowly revenge elements creeped into my fantasy world. No longer was it enough to save the world from nuclear annihilation and receive the gratitude of the world's super models, now I had also to crush some insignificant bug, some horrible person who I imagined had looked at me funny as he passed me on the street, grinding him beneath my heel before I could truly enjoy my rewards. Even my purely sexual fantasies took on a violent edge: I would be a martial artist fighting some ninja master evil woman, beautiful but deadly, who sat in one of my classes but refused to look in my direction; I would defeat her after grueling combat and force myself upon her sexually, punishing her for not wanting me. In my fantasy, of course, although they fought tooth and nail, they all ended up loving it and begging to remain with me as my love slave. More purile sexual fantasies, I know, but remember, I was twenty years old and still a virgin; I had no idea what I was fantasizing about.

All that changed one night shortly before my twenty first birthday, because I finally, my wildest (well, my most realistic actually) dreams coming true, got lucky. Lucky is the operative word, you must understand, since as I thought about it later I realized I, for once in my life, had been in the right place at the right time. The right place and the right time was walking down frat row on a Thursday evening, coming home from a long day of fantasizing at the student library and trying to dodge all the drunken, partying students who frequented that area at that time. Luckily (there's that word again) I couldn't avoid three drunked sorority girls who were staggering down the sidewalk towards me.

It may help to show the depths to which I had sunk to say that I hardly noticed the girls except as obstructions to my journey homeward, even though they were, I will say, quite attractive and dressed very provocatively in high heels, mini skirts, and spandex tops. To continue my story, I was walking down the sidewalk, lost in my fantasies, when a commotion up ahead distracted me and caught my attention; the commotion was the three girls, the two on the outside laughing and staggering a joshing the girl between them. More obstacles, I thought, and began to make my way unobtrusively around them, only, to my great shock, to be stopped by a feminine hand on my upper arm.

I turned, quite discomfited, and faced a tall, slim, attractive bleached blond sorority girl, who happened to be raging drunk and gripping my arm firmly. I remember what happened next quite vividly, although I am sure my memory has adjusted certain parts to suit my own particular self image.

"Hey," she said to me, "my friend here" and she nodded to the shapely brunette girl she and her friend were bodily holding up between them, and who looked at me happily drunk, "my friend here" she repeated, "needs a little company." They all giggled and laughed at that. "Come on," she said and started tugging on my arm, meaning for me to follow her.

This had to be one of the most terrifying events in my life to that date, and I followed in a state of shock and not a little bit of dismay; I didn't seem to realize that all I had to do to escape was use a little strength to pull my arm from the girl holding it and walk briskly away. Besides, these were WOMEN, and having never been the object of anything but negative attention from the female of the species, I was overwhelmed by what appeared to me to be very positive attention, or, at the least, soon to be very positive attention.

I was not wrong in my estimation: staggering and laughing, they dragged me, staggering and stunned, into a frat house, through the mob dancing and cavorting to a sound deafening even when compared to the noise of a jet engine, and upstairs into a bedroom. Once there, her two friends threw the brunette against me, making sure, I am now convinced, that her momentum would carry us crashing onto the bed. In that seemingly eternal second between the time she staggered into me and the time we landed together onto the bed, I felt for the first time the utterly unique sensation of a female grasping and groping my entire body while simultaneously trying to press her lips full against mine, her boozy breath strong in my nostrils and her luscious body squirming against my very, very stiff one.

Once on the bed it was only a short while before her mini-skirt was bunched around her waist and my pants and underwear (she wasn't wearing any, much to my surprise and delight) were around my knees. Her friends must have been watching us as we squirmed around together on the bed, her intoxicated state combining with my total inexperience to, I'm sure, make quite an amusing sight, but I, lost as I was by now in a sexual fog, did not care; all I cared about was finding the right hole in which to place my throbbing member, which is, for a novice, much harder than it sounds. My fumbling did not upset my partner; on the contrary, she giggled and reached down and put me inside her. Once firmly in place I had no more trouble, and started humping like a rabid jackrabbit that has discovered that it has only a few more minutes to live, and is determined to get the most out of that little time.

Like that jackrabbit, I am afraid to say, that little death came quickly upon me, and as I lay soft and spent upon my brunette lover, I was overcome with a sense of reality. The three girls combined to roll me off the girl and left, leaving me to face the ugly consequences of my actions; now that I had satisfied my formerly never before satisfied lust, I realized what a small and pitiful thing it was, how demeaned and degraded it had made me. I quickly pulled up my pants to cover up my shame and walked home as fast as my legs could carry me, thinking that everyone I passed saw what a pitiful and malignant creature I truly was, and that was not the last of my worries: what if I had caught some horrible venereal disease from that girl? My mind recounted the thousands of miserable possibilities, all including various grotesque deformities, and for once I hated my overactive imagination.

In the final analysis, my experience with those three drunken sorority girls left me with one, and only one (no, it was not a vd, thank god), thing, a deep abiding sense of disillusionment. I had been, up to that point in my life, a romantic; all my fantasies, revenge laced as they may have been, saw good triumphing over evil and saw sex as a glorious experience of pleasure and binding. Reality, I now realized, was completely different, with sex being a gross, ugly distortion of the way I had imagined it should be; no, not only imagined, but demanded it should be. The next few months, needless to say, were unhappy times for me; with this conclusion, I must revise my thinking, and say that my encounter with these girls was far from lucky--unlucky would be more correct.

In this state of depression and disillusionment I spent my twenty first birthday like I seem to have spent most of my birthdays, alone, but this time with a twist, since I had decided to go out and do something on this particular day. So my birthday found me wandering along a sandy stretch of ground abutting the ocean, desolately kicking at the surf which flowed over my bare feet. At some point during this listless ambulation, a madness of a sort grasped me in its vicious claws, and I decided to take my own life, and what could be better, my mind, now my enemy, said to me: here's the ocean, waiting to carry you back to the sweet oblivion of the womb, of eternal sleep.

My body, obeying the traitorous commands of my mind, turned to carry me out to sea, to a gasping, painful death below the waves, deprived of the precious air that is life. It was then that the divine intervened, for how can I explain what happened then except to say that God or some gods willed it to be so? I stumbled over something lying in the surf, and when I looked down to see what had delayed me in my search for Nirvana, all thoughts of death fled my mind: I beheld the stuff of my dreams, an elaborately blown glass bottle, opaquely reddish and stoppered firmly with a cork swollen by the salty waters of the ocean.

I bent down to pick it up, my heart fluttering within my rib cage as my mind strove against itself to bury my fantasies under the reality of the world: there were no such things as genies, this was only an old piece of junk which washed up on the beach at an opportune time, but I did not believe. There would be, I believed with all my heart as I struggled manfully to pull the cork from the bottle, a genie in this bottle, a genie capable of granting me my every wish. Imagine my surprise when I finally managed to pull out the cork and was greeted by a booming voice.

"FREE, FREE AT LAST!"

From my position on my ass I saw the air coalesce before me into the form of a giant bald head attached to an enormous barrel chest ending in a wisp of smoke.

"AHAHA," the voice boomed some more, sending me deeper into shock, "THANK YOU OH MORTAL FOR RELEASING ME FROM MY PRISON." It gazed down on me, a huge broad smile on its insubstantial face. I rubbed my eyes and looked again--it did not disappear; instead, its smoky substance seemed to flow into a different form, until it stood before me as a naked, sexless, hairless mannequin with bulging muscles and bright, shining eyes. I scrambled to my feet in time to meet his bow as he spoke one more time.

"HOW CAN I REPAY YOU, BREAKER OF THE MIGHTY SPELLS WHICH BOUND ME? THE STANDARD THREE WISHES, PERHAPS?"

I had gone insane, I was convinced, although I much preferred this madness to the one which sought to take my life. There was nothing for me to do, though, except play along with my torturous mind, which was so willing for me to see my fantasies finally come to life.

"Okay," I said boldly, "three wishes. My first wish is..." and then I began to detail, in great depth, how I would acquire great, in fact nearly boundless, wealth, using all the experience of my fantasies to insure that there were no loopholes available for this nearly all powerful being to twist my meaning into a curse. The genie listened patiently for five minutes before interrupting.

"HAHAHAHAHA! OH PUNY MORTAL WORM. DO YOU THINK I WOULD CARE TO TRICK YOU? DO YOU THINK IF YOU ASKED FOR UNIMAGINABLE WEALTH I WOULD GIVE YOU GOLD WHICH NO ONE WOULD TAKE BECAUSE THEY COULD NOT IMAGINE IT EXISTING? HAHAHAHAHA! I AM A SPIRIT OF THE ETHER! THE VAST BOUNDLESS SKY IS MY DOMAIN! I WAS BORN TWIN TO THE UNIVERSE AND WILL LAST UNTIL SPACE AND TIME COLLAPSE UPON THEMSELVES! ONLY THE GREATEST, MOST TERRIBLE SPELLS OF YOUR RACE OF DUST COULD EVEN CAPTURE ME FOR AN INSTANT! WHAT CARE I FOR YOU OR YOUR PUNY DESIRES? THEY ARE YOURS. ASK! AND THE WORLD WILL BE YOURS!"

I don't want you to think that I believed him for a second, even though what he said turned out to be absolutely true, but I decided that if, in my madness, I had created a genie which said he was not going to try to trick me, then I was going to believe him; why doubt my own mind? "Okay, then first I want unlimited wealth."

"DONE!" the genie roared.

I looked around me, hoping perhaps for a huge pile of gold to materialize from thin air, or for hundred dollar bills to fall from the sky, or any other sign of miraculous powers revealing themselves to me, making me instantly a rich man, but nothing had changed. "Well...?" I asked accusingly to the genie; I began wondering why my madness had failed me now, just when I had begun to become interested in this little game I was playing with myself.

"LOOK IN YOUR WALLET, OH CREATURE OF DUST AND ASHES!"

I pulled my wallet from my pocket and gazed into the billfold, wondering if it would now produce endless cash; I was disappointed when all I saw was two fives and a one dollar bill stuffed where I had put them, crumpled up into one side of the billfold. I was about to turn back to the genie and ask him what he was talking about when my eyes fell upon a thin piece of colored paperboard which I immediately recognized as a lottery ticket. So I had been given a winning lottery ticket, I thought, and although properly impressed, I was also most certainly disappointed, for the million or so dollars this ticket would bring was nothing compared to the amount of wealth I had actually requested.

Holding the ticket I turned back to the genie and made ready to speak, but he, perhaps seeing the expression on my face, spoke before I could, saying, "AH, MORTAL, THAT IS ONLY PART OF YOUR FIRST WISH. AWAITING YOU AT HOME IS A MESSAGE FROM A FAMOUS FINANCIAL ADVISOR, WHO WILL TURN THAT PALTRY AMOUNT YOU HOLD IN YOUR HAND INTO UNBELIEVABLE SUMS, TRULY UNLIMITED AMOUNTS, OF WEALTH. ARE YOU SATISFIED, OH LOW ONE IN THE SCHEME OF THE UNIVERSE?"

I had to say I was, if everything the figment of my imagination said was true; of course, I believed that in a few moments I would probably wake up face down in the sand with a rather nasty concussion of some sort, or maybe I was dying and my mind was hiding behind this childhood myth. At any rate, I did not care; I was having fun.

My next wish, since I, although only twenty one, was feeling my age, being of a rather morbid and introspective turn of mind, was for immortality fixed at the age of twenty six (an arbitrary pick of ages, really, since I did not see too many differences between the ages twenty four through thirty).

"DONE! OH MOST WORTHLESS OF CREATURES IN THIS COSMOS."

I must make a comment before I continue this story: I was, by this time, growing quite tired of the attitude this being, which anyway was only a temporary chemical imbalance in my brain, was taking toward me, calling me worm and worthless and dust. Since, though, he was giving me everything I had ever wanted in life, I decided to put up with it, knowing that he would take off after he granted my last wish, which was the ability to control the minds and bodies of others.

"OH HO HO, OH KING OF WORMS, YOUR FINAL WISH IS GRANTED. I WISH YOU FARE WELL AND WILL SEE YOU AT THE END OF TIME." With those final words, the genie shot off into the air at an amazing speed and soon disappeared from sight. At this time I fully expected to come back to my senses, for the lottery ticket to have disappeared from my hand and for reality to have set back in. I had had my fun, and now it was time to get back to real life; it came as a shock then, when I looked down at my hand and still found it holding a lottery ticket. A little bit dazed, I put it in my back pocket and began to wander back toward my car, lost deep in thought about what had just happened to me and wondering if it could actually be true or if it was just a figment of my imagination, like I had believed, but was beginning to doubt.

My revere was rudely interrupted by the sounds of laughter and giggling down the shoreline, and I looked up to see a man and a woman, he wearing a bathing suit with his chest bare and she wearing a one piece bathing suit with a sarong wrap around her waist, walking toward me in the distance, talking and laughing and generally carrying on. It was, I know, petty for me to become annoyed at these two human beings, even if he reminded me, with his bulging physique and dull expression, of every jock I had ever despised and she reminded me, with her long bleached blond hair and her small, pretty nose and splattering of freckles, of all the women who had ever tormented me in my retiring nature.

Annoyed I did become, though, and instantly decided that I would now discover whether or not the genie had actually granted me my third wish, or if I really had been imagining things. To this end, I concentrated hard and imagined that the young man was peeing his pants; while I was so engaged, I felt the strangest sensations: underneath my surface thoughts, my brain, or rather unknown subterranean thoughts, seemed to move, sluggishly at first, pushing this way and that, gaining speed and precision, until I imagined my mind was the innards of an intricate watch, going <clickity clack> as it set my desires into motion. This feeling lasted only a moment, and I stood amazed as I watched the man I was concentrating on freeze, gaze down at himself in amazement, curse, look around in dismay, and then dash off into the ocean. The woman was calling out to him what was wrong, what was the matter, and I, in my amazement at what I had accomplished, decided I would see what else my newfound power could do.

<Clickity clack, clickity clickity clack> my mind went as I tried to speak directly to her mind, informing her that her companion had just peed in his own pants, and somehow I knew that I had transferred this information, that she now knew what I had meant her to know, but knew as if she had just come to the conclusion herself. I continued <clickity clack> and thought that it made her hot to imagine him pissing, pissing on her, over her naked body, into her mouth, down her nose, all over her; in fact, I thought, it made her so hot she was going to orgasm just thinking about it. As I watched, I knew just what she was thinking, for I had put it in her mind, and I saw her stop, her hand fluttering down to her groin area, and squeeze her legs together and slightly bend over at the waist, and I knew she was coming, just as I had mentally told her to.

Oh joy of joys, I thought, it was all true, all my dreams and fantasies had come true that day, and my life would be changed forever for the better, but I was not done with the woman yet, for now my sadistic side came out, wanting revenge for all the slights of my childhood and adolescence; I placed in her mind <clickity clack> that she loved being peed on, that every time a warm stream of uring struck her body she would grow excited and achieve incredible orgasms, that she would beg her boyfriends to pee on her, and would not be satisfied with sex, would never orgasm, unless it involved this bodily fluid streaming over her body. I walked away more than satisfied with myself, and anticipating, really anticipating, my new life for eternity, with unlimited wealth and everybody in the entire world doing just exactly what I wanted when I wanted it.

I will skip over the next few days in which, practicing with my newfound powers, I visited endless petty and mundane revenges upon people I didn't even know, but who had, by dint of their existence, somehow reminded my of my alienation and worthlessness. Perhaps I should not say worthlessness, since my financial advisor had taken money I did not yet possess and magically created more money from it, until I was, within a few short days, the possessor of a fund of ever increasing wealth, which seemed unlimited in its growth potential.

Finally, though, I screwed up my courage and decided it was time to get up close and personal, in a way that I had experienced only one very unsatisfactory time before; in other words, I was determined to use my powers to possess a woman of my choice for an afternoon. Perhaps, though, I should not use the word woman, for women, even though I was now rich and nearly all powerful, still intimidated me in the most extreme fashion, to the point where I would find it difficult to talk when one was near; therefore, I decided to visit a junior high school (the area in which I lived had one college, one high school, and three junior high schools, one of which was private), the private one, during their lunch time, where I would choose a young girl to satisfactorily Unavailable

She arrived at 4:00 pm, knocking softly at my door; I told her to come in and watched, entranced, as this tiny, shy, thirteen year old girl stepped into my apartment, wearing a flowered summer dress which showed off her smooth, olive shoulders and her trim, firm legs.

"He...he...hello," she stuttered out as I looked her over carefully, my heart filled with lust: she was tiny, only about 4'8" and, at a guess, maybe sixty five or seventy five pounds, with a short, boyish haircut, full, pouting lips, a round, flattish face, and beautiful, narrow eyes. Her small breasts, just beginning to form, heaved under her dress as I asked her to come closer.

<Clickity clack> I went, increasing her excitement as she moved closer to me; <clickity clack> again as I put an idea into her head. Now she was staring at the bulge in my pants, her look one of innocent lust as she went to her knees before me, her small, delicate hands caressing my penis through my pants.

Excuse me if I rhapsodize poetic about this moment, but such flowery language is the only way I can correctly recount my feelings at this particular moment, in which I first used the powers of my mind to seduce this barely pubescent girl. It was, I know, in reality a rather pathetic act of a pathetic human being, but at the time my sexual desire had consumed me, and my ability to play god with the minds of others swept me away with a feeling of overwhelming power--a heady turn on indeed.

A moment later I had stepped out of my pants and underwear and my little asian girl had her lips stretched around the head of my penis; I was in heaven as she worked it around in the warm cavity of her mouth, each <clickity clack> from my mind improving her technique and bringing her a growing sexual excitement. <Clickity clack> and my penis was down her small throat, making it bulge with my swollen member, and I was in ecstasy, the building pressure in my loins signaling an incipient explosion of come into my girl's mouth. I pulled my penis from her throat at the last moment so she could taste my seed before it ran down her gullet into her belly, and <clickity clack> I drove a desire and longing for that taste deep into her subconscious mind, a wish to have warm come bathing her tongue and her mouth and sliding thickly down her throat.

She kept sucking as I grew limp, the sensations almost unbearable, and did not stop until I was once again painfully erect. With her eyes opened wide and with a look of shy expectancy on her face, she looked up at me from her knees and said, "Pl...please put it in me."

How could I refuse? I lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom, placed her on the bed, and quickly undressed both her and myself, gazing in longing at her almost bare pubic mound, a mound I knew had never before been penetrated by a man. I adjusted her light body so her buttocks were right on the edge of the bed, and then I slowly, gently, pushed her legs back until her knees were on either side of her head, my penis just an inch away from her fully exposed vagina, which was glistening a soft pink in the light.

<Clickity clack> and I sent pleasure thrilling through her body as the tip of my penis pressed into her virgin folds; <clickity clack> as the pleasure built in my own loins as the head of my penis slipped into her tight sheath; <clickity clack> as I fed pleasure directly into her brain as I jerked forward, ripping through her hymen and burying my full six inches into her tight, grasping, virgin vagina. She cried out then, as my penis tore away the sign of her innocence, both in pain and pleasure, and I <clickity clack> fed her sensations as I ground my pelvis against her, swirling my penis around inside her.

Her young, never before used vagina was almost painful in its tightness, but I was undeterred as I began to stroke in and out within her box; she was crying out in constant pleasure, little gasps and moans and cries escaping her young lips as I prodded her out. A feeling of complete domination, of complete control, overwhelmed me, and I once more went <clickity clack>, this time making the muscles lining her sheath begin to milk my penis with a passion. I groaned in my own ecstasy as I approached completion, riding the waves of euphoria engulfing me. <Clickity clack> one last time as I spat my seed deep into her belly, and my little asian girl began to buck and scream beneath me, held down by my hands and my penis as she howled her way through orgasm after orgasm.

I think I probably overdid it with her pleasure, for some minutes after my member stopped unloading its contents into her she was lost in the frenzy of multiple and building orgasms, until finally she collapsed limply beneath me, exhausted. As I rolled off of her limp, raggedly breathing form, I began to think: she might get pregnant, and I certainly didn't want that, so <clickity clack> and I knew that I did have control over body and mind--she would not conceive from today. I stared down at my now limp member and wondered if I had control over my own body: <clickity clack> and my penis slowly began to swell with blood again. I gasped in pain as my member achieved a rock like hardness in a matter of moments, and I gazed over at my little doll and thought to myself, I haven't had everything she has to give yet; I don't own her; I haven't possessed everything. You see, suddenly I wanted to know that my come had filled every one of her tender young orifices, in some way, mind twisted mind told me, she would always be mine.

<Clickity clack> and she began to recover, began to grow sexually excited yet again, but this time with a twist--I made her ass and bowels burn to be invaded, burn to be taken to match the feeling she had just experienced in her vagina. She moaned as I rolled her over onto her stomach and pulled her to her hands and knees onto the bed; I wasn't wasting any time now, my particular machinations on my own body having driven me to the peak of excitement. A glob of Vaseline and a <clickity clack> to loosen up her asshole later, and I was into her slender, grunting, thirteen year old body, thrusting my dick maniacally into the deepest recesses of her bowels, simultaneously reaching around her small frame to pinch and maul her small nipples and breasts.

My orgasm was the best I had ever had, and hers, from the way she screamed and bucked, couldn't have been much worse. I was finished with her though; besides, she was covered in sweat and leaking my semen from her nether orifices wouldn't have been too much fun after that anyway. So <clickity clack clickity clack> and she got dressed and went home, sure in the knowledge that she had just spent the afternoon in the library fantasizing about what had just happened in reality, any physical evidence still in her body would be cleaned up by her unthinkingly once she got home.

Myself, I lay on my back on the bed, my penis now flaccid against my thigh, and thought about the extent of my powers: I could have any woman I wanted with merely a thought, and I could have her as many times as I wanted, since I had discovered that I never need to become flaccid again with the powers over my body I had now. It was, for one of my previous inexperience and unpopularity, a heady thought, a thought I most definitely indulged in for the rest of the night before drifting off to sleep, tired by my exertions of the day and determined to repeat them come the next day.

The next day I returned to the junior high and this time "pushed", as I now like to call it, two more girls to join me in my apartment after school, both girls, like the one the previous day, almost prebuscent and very boyish in their figures and bearings, one a small blond and the other a small African American. I kept these two overnight, fucking them continuously, not stopping even when they both passed out from exhaustion from their racking, multiple, orgasms. I don't remember myself how many times I orgasmed, but it was at least two times each hour, and I was with them about fourteen hours, the <clickity clack> of my mind burning up the fuel reserves of my body to turn my into a sexual demon, indefeasible in my lust. When I finally let them go, I <clickity clack> made them inseparable lovers who would always share any man they chose, thinking that it was only fitting that two who had given me so much pleasure should not be separated.

The next few days, my lust sated and my mind assured that I was now superior to those who thought themselves my superior, I had no need to use my powers to revenge myself on any of the many slights they gave me; I was, in other words, smug in my knowledge of supremacy. During this time I arranged with my financial guru to purchase a large mansion on a hill overlooking the college I was attending, and the purchase quickly went through. I quickly moved in, dropped out of college, since what need did I have of college when I was nearly a god, and began laying plans for my future, which was filled with beautiful women and beautiful things.

It had been over a week since my last sexual escapade, and I was beginning to feel the lack, so I, braver now and more sure of the efficacy of my powers, spent the afternoon at the high school stadium, deciding that I was going to have one of the cheerleaders for my sexual toy that evening. The way I reacted to my prize, once I had her, I am afraid to say, puts me and the viability of my existing mindset in a very poor light, although it would probably be better if I simply described exactly what happened to both myself and the young girl I so callously bent to my will.

The girl I chose and <clickity clack> sent to the front door of my new mansion up on the hill brought back memories of my own high school days: she had long blond hair falling to her lower back and beautiful elfin features, with a full, firm figure which, I was to learn later, although fully womanly in shape, lacked a certain maturity that the bodies of older women display. The memories she brought back, unfortunately, were all negative; the moment my eyes had landed on her doing her high kicks and hip thrusts in her scanty cheerleading costume, she summed up for me all the girls, all those awful girls, who, throughout the first bloom of my sexuality, tormented me with their ridicule and disdain--which is why, I know now, that I chose her.

Before I continue, I must explain a little something about how my mental powers worked, but first I must describe the picture of mind I came to form from frequent use of my abilities: imagine a flashlight shining on a small portion of an infinitely large rug--this is the entire mind, subconscious, id, superego, everything. On this circle of light, imagine a laser beam near the center, moving around, placing into shadow some of the nearer, dimmer life--that is the conscious, a focused intelligence able to illuminate a tiny thread of the tapestry far better than the general dimness of the unfocused mind. This little bit of consciousness is, in many ways, distinct from the majority of its surrounding unconscious, yet not completely divorced from it either. Up to this point, I had used my powers (except for that very first time) to directly affect the conscious mind, or the subconscious very near the conscious mind, which then fed back into the subconscious my desires and warped the individual accordingly, having the effect of appearing to leave free will to the person so affected. In other words, what I wanted them to do and think they thought they had decided for themselves to do and think, a very satisfactory situation, up to that moment.

When the young lady, still wearing her cheerleading outfit at my "suggestion," arrived, I had already decided, having let the past abuses of girls like her affect my judgment, to leave her her consciousness while I took her body: I wanted, I am ashamed to say, to see the fear, hatred, and loathing in her eyes as I made her body jerk in ecstasy as I used her.

I embarked immediately upon my plan, and <clickity clack> commanded her to do a routine for my private enjoyment, smiling as I saw the confusion on her face as her body began to perform the precise, erotic movements of her cheer. In the middle of her routine I began undressing in front of her, earning a horrified widening of her eyes, but a <clickity clack> definite tingling in her loins. She finished her routine and I finished undressing at the same moment, and I allowed her the use of her voice, wanting to hear her pleadings before I had her.

"Whe...where am I? What's going on here? Who are you?" she asked, looking around frightened and confused.

I approached her, and although she wanted to run, I wouldn't let her, forcing her to stand there with her arms down by her side and her legs together, and said, "You, my dear girl, are here at my whim. You see, I desire the use of your body for the nonce, and have decided to take it. Do not worry, your body will be pleasured, and you will not be harmed." With that I began to slowly remove her clothes from her body, knowing that feeling me doing so, but being unable to do anything about it, would torment her all the more.

Slowly I revealed all her charms to my eyes: her smallish if firm breasts with dark red nipples, her flat, strong stomach, her rounded, muscular buttocks and legs, and her sparse blond pubic hair. At that point I sat down on my couch and had her play with herself until she orgasmed, then I, seeing the loathing and fear in her eyes, made her beg to be penetrated, which I obliged.

That was just the beginning: before the night was over, I had not only taken her in every orifice multiple times, as well as squirted my semen all over her body, I had also urinated over her face and body and into her mouth, defalcated on her and had her smear herself with it before licking my asshole clean; I had her beg for everything I did to her, even the spanking and whipping and piercing of her nipples and labia. By the time I was done with her her conscious mind was in a state of horrified shock, and only my control over her body still allowed her to function; I think the worse thing I did to her was make her physically enjoy everything I did, which stunned her even more. Still, my projected anger was not completely assuaged, so when I sent her off with the command that she would always remember her time with me but never be able to communicate the least bit of it in any way, I implanted a subconscious inability for her to ever reject any sexual suggestion; in other words, from this moment on, she would always say yes to any sexual overture made toward her, and--I wasn't a complete sadist, or maybe I was--her pleasure would be in proportion to how disgusting and horrifying her conscious mind found the act.

For the few weeks immediately following the abasement of this girl, I went back to the high school on almost a daily basis and plucked one popular, beautiful teenaged girl to abuse in my mansion on the hill, and, after tormenting each one to my satisfaction, I would give them permanent commands which would follow them and torment them for the rest of their life. I now remember only a few of the punishments I created for these innocent girls, victims of an unbalanced mind projecting humiliation from the past to the present, but even these make me cringe.

A brunette with large breasts I made a pain slut, who only in breast torture could find pleasure, and yet who could tell no one what she truly wanted, could only travel from man to man hoping that she could find one who would pleasure her. A small, slender redhead I made prefer beasts to men, and who would find her ultimate pleasure when she could find someone who would treat her like an animal and keep her penned. An asian girl I made a nymphomaniac, whose pleasure increased with the number of partners, men, women, or animals, she had simultaneously. A few girls I simply made so that they had a driving urge to copulate with everyone to whom they spoke. A few more I made love the taste and feel of semen, so much so that they would do anything for it. Another I made an desirer of scat and golden showers, and whose main pleasure was rolling in the excretions of others while people watched. I made them all love the particular perversion I enforced upon them, as well as sterilizing them all, not wanting to torture innocents unnecessarily.

Over time, though, I grew bored with these games I was playing with these girls; my pent up anger and frustration had been slowly exhausted until I held no more hatred for the beautiful girls of my high school years. My revenge had run its course, and I was ready to move on, and move on I did, as I began to throw wild parties at my mansion for the sororities and fraternities on campus.

Every week there would be another party, and if two or three of the more attractive coeds did not make it back to their sororities or their dorms right away, who would know? Most would return home to their studies within a week, glad to have been blessed with my favor and disappointed that they did not share the fate of my favorites, who invariably dropped out of college and took up residence with me. Within two months I had three perfect slaves, attendant upon my every whim, willing to do anything to please me. By the end of the year, I had twenty such female slaves, every couple of weeks adding one or two more and discarding, with a million dollars to make up for a lost education, those with which I had grown bored.

I lived in this manner, indulging my every whim, for over ten years, never growing older than twenty six and never at a lack for anything I desired. I even managed to get my hands on various celebrity women, as well as several super models, to add to my amusement; I kept some of these. One night, though, I went to sleep, thinking about moving on to greater things, when I woke up the next morning in a private room in a hospital.

Now I come to the rather depressing part of my story, the part where I find out that, instead of living the life of Riley using the money and powers that a genie granted me, I had instead been, for the past nine years, lost in a fantasy of my own creation. It seems that I had, that time so long ago on the beach, really attempted to commit suicide, saved only from my own folly by those two individuals walking the beach, whom in my fantasy I first use my power upon, who, seeing my plight, rescued me. Near death, I was taken to the hospital, where I was taken under the wing of a certain branch of the government which was experimenting with various suicide recovery techniques. Although I do not understand exactly how the technique worked, the technique to which I was subjected involved keeping me sedated and prodding my mind to create an elaborate fantasy within which I could solve all my psychological problems.

This story, which my keepers and saviors have asked me to write as a final test of my renewed sanity, is both a confession and an advocacy for a technique which will allow human beings who are a danger to themselves or their society to live out the worst part of their beings, burning themselves clean of their hatred and pain.

Now, as the memories of the past ten years, a ten years which seemed as real to me as the chair in which I am sitting and the paper upon which I am writing seem to me now, fade into the past like a dream half captured upon waking, I am ready to begin anew, ready to begin living, truly living.

The End