Check out some of my other stories and let me know which ones you want me to continue first. P.S. Sorry about any of the spelling, english is a hard lauange to work with.
I Am The Puppet Master Chapter One: Clock Work Girl
My name is Damien, at this point I had been seventeen for a grand total of twelve hours and so far it sucked. Maybe seventeen just sucks in general, maybe everyone who has even been there will agree with me. I mean, your still considered to be too young to do anything fun but for fuck sake your close enough that it shouldn’t really matter. I was still expected to listen to my parents (not that I even did that anyway) not drink, not smoke, (that I did anyway) and go to school, which was what I was doing at the time.
I was sitting in history class listen to the teacher drone on like an old vacuum about what some old dead guy had done three hundred and something years ago and why we should care about it. Actually the reason I was having trouble concentrating was the guy who was sitting next to me and seemed to find I hilarious to copy every single bloody move I made. You know the kind: felt Billabong cap, gold chains, muscle shirt with no actual muscle, in short a douche bag who acted like reject from Jersey Shores. Every time I moved, turned a page or shifted in my chair he made a point of doing the exact same thing and giggling to himself about it. I decided that I instead of climbing of the desk and kicking him in the throat I’d have some fun with it.
I fished around in my pencil case into I found my geometry protractor, the kind with a single long point at the end. I unfolded and, spreading my hand across the page before me, began drumming the point back and forth between my splayed fingers. I looked over at the douche bag and saw that he was doing the same thing with a ball point pen and seemed very keen on keeping up with me. Good luck to him, I’d been around knives my whole life and had been doing this kind of stuff since before I could walk, so I stepped up to pace a little, just to see how long it would take for him to miss.
I was stabbing the desk between my fingers at a speed that sounded like a drum role when I noticed the girl on my other side was looking at me in a sense of awe, like she had never seen anything like it before. She was pretty sexy and looking at her broke my concentration for the split second needed for me to miss the desk and graze the edge of my index finger with the protractor. It was nothing really, little more than a paper cut, but I didn’t really notice because at that precise moment the douche bag who had been copying me screamed at the top of his lung and fell to the floor, dragging his whole desk with him. The reason the desk fell and landed on top of him was apparent by the amount of blood that was pouring from his hand because you see, while I had merely grazed myself, at the exact same moment he had driven he ball point pen clean through his hand and effectively nailed himself to the desk.
The whole class went nuts, people everywhere were screaming in harmony with the dumb bastard, a few of them fainted at the sight and I noticed one person over in the corner heaving into the bin. This kinda stuff never really bothered me, in fact I usually would have found it funny, but why had it happened when he had been imitating me? There was no way he would have gone that far to copy me; maybe he had just slipped by accident and stabbed himself? Yeah, in the same place I almost had right at the moment when I was perving on the girl next to me? That was too much of a coincidence by anyone’s standards.
There's an old saying, I think it from some dusty old Sherlock Holmes book. It goes something like: ‘When you have eliminated all the possibilities, whatever is left, however unlikely, must be the truth’. I’ve always been interested in things like the Occult and stuff like that, the paranormal and such. I’m not one of those Goth’s with three inches of makeup who sit around grave yards with a widgie board trying to talk to my dead cat or whatever, but I had always liked the idea that weird shit like that actually happened.
The teacher sent us all out of class and told us to wait in the hallway, sure as all hell beat listening to him drone on as if he wanted us to stab ourselves, while he tried to dis-impale the douche bag from his desk. I was sitting on one of the low bench’s along the wall thinking about this when I decided to perform a stupid little experiment, you know, just to prove to myself that I was totally nuts and could then let the whole thing drop.
Sitting across from me was the girl who had been admiring my skills at not stabbing myself; she must have been new because I hadn’t seen her around before. She was, as I had suspected, just as sexy from the neck down as up. She had a soft featured face and voluptuous built that made me think she had some German blood in her. She was sitting with her hands folded in her lap like most girls did at our school, the uniform was what you would expect at some British catholic high-school, not that I think any of the guys minded. While we wore suit like outfits the girl had to don plaid skirts, knee high socks and white cotton tops that help you imagination run wild. During the summer they were allowed to wear shorter skirts to help deal with the heat, but less fabric meant that they had to keep their hands in their laps whenever they sat down, or else give us all a front row view to their panties. Some of the girls liked to spread their legs more when they sat and seemed to enjoy the attention, not that any of us were going to tell them off, believe you and me.
Any way this new girl was sitting directly across from me, talking to the girl next to her and looking as bored as I was, when I decided to carry out my little test that I hope would work even though every rational part of me kind of knew it wouldn’t. I placed my own hand on top of my knee, just like she was. Then, without really knowing what I was supposed to think of or concentrated on, I moved my hand up my leg.
It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow to a crawl as I watched in total shock as the new girls hand slowly slide up he leg, taking the hem of her skirt with it, revelling he creamy white thighs. She never looked away from the girl she was talking to, never seemed to realise that she was showing off her leg. I decided to see how far I could push this; I continued to move my hand up my leg and watched as she followed suit. To prove to myself that this was not a coincidence I dragged my hand up to the waist band of my trouser and saw her pull her own skirt up just as high.
The chick she was talking suddenly pointed at her leg and began to laugh and the new girls head snapped around to see that she was showing off her pink lace panties to the whole class. As it always has and always will in a high school the laughter drew everyone’s attention until suddenly the entire hall was full of shrieks, laughs, wolf whistles and cat calls. The new girl turned bright red but didn’t make any move to cover herself, she looked as if she wanted to run away and hide but something was stopping her. That something was me. I kept my body as still as I could and saw that she was doing the same, her eyes were her own as the darted around looking at the mocking faces of her new class mate. The sensation for me was odd, aside from the rush I was feeling from having absolute power over someone else body there was also a tingling chill right at the base of my skull, like someone had put a melting ice-cube there. I wondered what this meant, that second of loss of concentration was all it seemed to take to break the connection as the girl suddenly leapt to her feet and fled down the corridor, followed by the calls of her class mates.
I was ecstatic, I mean I literally felt as though there was about three million volts running through me. I could fucking control people! I could force them to do anything I wanted to! This was like a dream come true for me; but given how so many things in life are more complicated then they first appear I was forced to ask myself just how far I could push this. I mean, could these people fight back? Was there a limit to which I could control them before they were able to stop me? I had to find out, had to find some way of testing my new found gift; it was kind of funny really, I had always wanted to be able to control people, now I guess I had the perfect way to do it.
I decided that my victim, or test subject, which ever you prefer, would be someone who I had already proven I could exert control over. No, not the douche bag that was lying in hospital with a hand full of stiches, I was much more interested in the new girl. I had seen that I could control her to a degree so if there was anyone to test this on I suppose it was best to start out easy.
I asked around and found out her name was Fiona, she was form somewhere that I can’t remember the name of but apparently they make some kind of tea there, along with great looking women. She only been here for a couple of weeks and seemed to have mostly kept to herself aside for a few of those folk who see it as their job to ‘welcome’ new people into our school community. In other words girls who ate way too much sugar and still thought that they were everybody’s best friends and the guys who wanted to get into her pants while she was still trying to settle in at the new school. Bunch of fucking wankers in other words. Well I was going to do what it was that they were all trying to do, just maybe not in the same way.
It took forever for us to get around to lunch break. The paramedics showed up and managed to pry him, what I thought of as my first victim, off the table. The tool wouldn’t even walk out of the classroom on his own; I heard him insisting to the medics until they brought in the gurney and carried him out. He was probably trying to get a sympathy vote for the girls or at least the teachers, hoping that they weren’t going to ask him too many questions about how and why he had so effectively nailed himself to the desk.
However I wasn’t worried about this, I was focusing on how I was going to get Fiona alone, and what I was going to do to her once I had. I spent the hour or so sitting in that corridor practising, I figured that like any skill or ability it was something that you could improve with practise, just repetition and repetition. Before the bell had rung I had made several people stand up, a few people hit the people next to them, two very different girls rub themselves between the legs and had even managed to get some of them to do it without moving a muscle of my own, just visualising it in my mind.
When we were finally allowed to drag our sore asses off the cold wooden benches and stretch out I looked around for Fiona. She hadn’t come back after flashing the whole class, not that anyone other than me really seemed to have noticed. I guessed that she had gone to the place where all girls went when they were embarrassed or scared or just down right upset. I made my way to the nearest rest room; the thing about our school was that they were that odd combination of poor and new-aged. This meant that we had something that I believe as quite unique to our school: co-ed bathrooms. They were small and only had toilets instead of any urinals but hey were the source of many stories, rumours and shall we say ‘questionable’ events.
I walked in and immediately saw her standing in front of the sink starring at herself in the mirror. She was tallish with waits long blond hair, big brown eyes and a tight round ass that was being shown off beautifully by the way she was leaning over the sink. I didn’t even give her a chance, as I walked into the room I reached out and grabbed her with my mind, holding her in place. I turned and locked the door behind me, a piece of for sight that may simply didn’t possess, thus leading to many of the ‘questionable’ events I mentioned. I turned back to face her, most women would have been a little nervous about being locked in the bathroom with a complete stranger but she didn’t even flinch. Although the reason she was not moving a muscle was because I was telling her not to; or at least I was thinking that I was telling her not to move, if that makes any sense.
I walked up behind her and placed my hands on her hips; again she didn’t move at all, just stood there and kept staring at herself in the mirror. I slid my hands around until I was holding her around the wait, my quickly hardening cock pressed between her supple ass checks. As I thought it she began to stand a little straighter until my face was buried in her perfumed hair, I remembered hearing about a movie called “The Scent of a Woman”. I never actually saw it but I still saw the title as being quite profound; there's just something about the way that girls smell, the combination of the perfume’s, conditioners and that gentle aroma that just naturally hangs around them which drives men, or at least me, totally wild with desire.
She turned on the spot with a sort of mechanical jolting of her hips, like her knees were refusing to bend. She turned until she faced me and I could look into those deep brown eyes, eyes which were now darting around, looking scared on the verge of panic. I focused on her eyes, tried to make the stand still so that she could only look at me; but try as I might they continued moving around on their own.
‘Well fine then’ I thought to myself, taking care not to break focus in Fiona as it were ‘I’ll let her keep her own eyes, at least until I learn how to control them too’.
As I thought it she slowly sank to her knees, again with a jerking clockwork motion, until she was kneeling in front of me. I quickly unzipped my pants to reveal my now erect dick; something about having this much power over a woman was truly intoxicating to the point where I had become fully erect without me even noticing. At my will, I mean without me even thinking about it she opened her mouth and slowly began to swallow all seven inches of my cock. I could see her eyes open I shock as I leaned in and began to force myself down her throat. The look in her eyes would have been more appropriate for someone who was thrashing around, trying to fight off an attacker. But her hands hung limp at her side, that is until I thought I would be great for her to start using them for something else. The idea had barely formed in my mind when her hand rose from the floor and gently grasped my aching ball sack. Her other hand moved up and began to massage the base of my shaft. Instead of getting her to blow me I instead held her head in place with my mind and began fucking her face. Her throat began to tighten around the head of my prick, I don’t know if that was her or me but good lord in heaven it felt good.
Throughout me doing this she barely moved, aside from her eyes. She just knelt there her hands gently moving around my sensitive parts and her throat convulsing around my dick. It was working, it was fucking working! Here I was driving my cock into the throat of a woman who was obviously quite unwilling to let me do so but there was shit she could do about it.
I wanted more, not the sensation of my dick sliding in and out of her throat, although that was great, I wanted more of this feeling of control. I wanted to push past all the barriers that I could and completely rule her body. I stopped thrusting myself into her open mouth and ordered her to stand; she rose to her feet in a clockwork fashion, like her limbs were being controlled by gears instead of muscles and tendons, until I was once again looking into her terrified eyes. At my willing she leaned back to sit on the edge of the hand basin, sliding back until her feet left the floor and her legs began to part. She reached down and lifted up her skirt, this time with both hands, and slid her panties down to her knees revealing her pussy. She had shaved her fluffy blond pubic hair into a little landing strip, very sexy.
I reached up and unbuttoned her shirt; once I had it open I leaned around like I was going to hug her and quickly unclasped her bra. As I did so my head rested briefly against her chest, I could hear her heart beating like a machine gun. I’m no bloody doctor but her heart rate was way higher than it should have been, as in dangerously high. But I didn’t care about that; I had a gorges girl completely under my control and I’ll be dammed if I wasn’t going to take advantage of it.
I placed my wet dick at the entrance to her vag and slowly began to slide into her warm love tunnel. I felt her body twitch as I did so and I leaned forward to take one of her nipples in my mouth. As I licked and sucked on her areola it hardened and I felt her pussy tighter and become wetter. I hadn’t willed this to happen but it was still happening, maybe some kind of a kneejerk reflex, something that went beyond the control I was exerting over her. I placed my hand on her hips and began slowly fucking her tight pussy. As I moved she began to move with me, raising her hip to meet mine when I pushed forward and pulling back as I slid out. I wasn’t just fucking her; she was fucking me back, mirroring my movements just as she had done in the hallway. I started humping her faster and she matched me move for move. Her hair fell forward over her face giving her that look of a desperate slut, her eyes stopped looking around for help that wasn't coming and instead looked straight at me. She was enjoying this, I could tell, and I was really enjoying this; the two of us were going wild now, without making so much as sound I was fucking the shit out of her and she was throwing her hip forward just as hard as I was. I could feel the cum bubbling up in my balls so I grabbed her hips and buried myself right up the hilt in her. Our faces were barely a centimetre apart and I saw her eyes role back in her head. I shot right up inside her, all thoughts of contraception and protection forgotten as I came and I could tell that she was cumming too, although how I knew this I can’t explain.
I was breathing heavily as I pulled my soaked cock out of her dripping pussy. She stayed right where she was; sweat now glistening all over her body and her eyes staring straight at me. I grabbed a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser and wiped my dick off before tucking it back in my trousers. Fiona stayed right where she was, sitting on the sink like some sort of coin operated clockwork robot that had wound down. I tried to keep control over her for as long as I could as I walked over and unlocked the door. The last thing I wanted was for her to get control of her body back and start screaming rape in the middle of the school bathroom. I kept focusing on her as I slipped out the door and turned to walk down the now empty corridor, I had gone about a dozen paces before I heard an earthshattering scream. It wasn’t a scream of pain or anger, it was a scream of pure, unbridled pleasure, like the biggest orgasm of her life had been packed down into a few seconds and had hit her in that bathroom. A teacher poked her head out of a door and looked toward the restroom but I was past her by then, out of her line of sight and around the corner before she could turn around.
I decided to skip out on the last few periods of school and go home. I kinda knew that if I hung around school I’d spend all day practising my new power and wouldn’t really learn anything from the teachers, not that that was new. As soon as I was home I changed and jumped straight on the computer, I fired up the internet and spent the next few hours researching, well, I’ll be honest I had no idea where to begin. I learned that nearly every culture on the planet had some kind of story about people who could control the bodies of others. Some called them wizards or demons or even demi-gods; not that I thought of myself as a god, although that would have been pretty cool.
It had just rolled past four o’clock when the phone range. I answered it expecting it to be some telemarketer and was wondering if I would be able to control people over the phone and make then beat themselves to death with their own receiver.
“Hello Damien,” came a cracking old European voice “Happy Birthday.”
“Hi Grandad,” I said. Even though my mom didn’t really get along with her dad that much I still talked to him all the time. He made a point of calling me on my birthday every year like most grandparents do.
“How did your day go?” he asked “Anything interesting happen?”
“Well,” I thought for a moment about telling what I had found out about myself but decided against it. “Not really, just the usual stuff.”
“So nothing strange happened?” said my grandad in a sly voice. “Didn’t learn anything new? Like say, how to make people do whatever you want?”
My blood turned to ice in my veins; I had to sit down for a moment. ‘How?’ I thought to myself ‘How could he possibly know about this?’ I realised I was breathing heavily when I heard my grandad chuckle on the other end of the line.
“It’s okay son,” he said “I know what you are, and I know what happening to you. The same thing happened to me on my seventeenth birthday, its nothing to be scared of.”
“Well what is it then?” I asked, maybe a little rudely but to hell with pleasantries “And how do you know?”
“Relax,” he said “I think you come over to my place, we need to talk.”
To Be Continued