A boy who dislikes his family gains powers that he will use to humiliate them. This is fiction; none of it is real. It would be illegal if it was.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of total fantasy. Nothing in it works in the real world, and if it did, it would be illegal.
My name’s Mark, and I’m not the hero of this story. This story doesn’t have a hero. I guess I’m the protagonist, since that’s the guy that drives the action, and, boy, does this story have action. Before I launch into this narrative, I should tell you about my family, since that bunch of dipshits is at the center of this tale.
My mom is named Tami Lynn. Don’t laugh; it’s true. If your first thought was “Wow, that’s white trash”, you’re right. My mom (and I will switch between ‘my mom’, ‘Mom’, and ‘Tami Lynn’, depending on what’s happening and how I’m feeling) got pregnant with my sister at fifteen. The guy stayed around just long to put his pants on after knocking her up, so there went that bright future. The result of that mistake was my sister, Karli Jo. Now, as that train wreck of a name indicates, my mom is an idiot, but she is a gorgeous idiot and, three years later, when she was eighteen, my dad came into the picture. Tami Lynn got pregnant right away, but my dad stayed around. He stayed around until Tami Lynn about bankrupted him and basically drove him away. I was three when he left, and it was not an amicable split. She really thought he should be grateful that a woman who looked like her would be with him. He wanted to take me with him, and I want to go, but that hateful bitch called my mother wouldn’t let me.
Now would be a good time to emphasize the fact that Tami Lynn is, indeed, stunning to look at. She’s average height (so, what, 5’7”?) with a heart-shaped face, big blue eyes, and thick blond hair, natural blond. Below the neck is spectacular. She bounced back from having two kids without a scratch, so to speak, and since she loves exercise, she’s kept everything tight, and there’s plenty to be kept tight. She’s got long legs for her frame, a great rack (probably in the 35-36C range), and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. Of course, she’s only thirty-three, but still, with two kids…
I know you’re thinking it’s weird of me to describe my mom like this, and you’re right, but, and I cannot stress this enough, I have no family feelings for my mother. She kept me from my dad, and I grew up watching men throw themselves at her and her lap it up. She’s not a whore, because whore’s actually put out, but she wasn’t shy about taking gifts from guys who thought they had a real shot.
If you can do simple math, I said Tami Lynn was fifteen when my sister was born and she’s now thirty-two, so that means Karli Jo is seventeen. She’s a junior in high school, and she’s looks like a hybrid of her dad and Tami Lynn. Her face is a little more angular, her hair tends toward brunette, but gets red highlights in the summer, and if her boobs aren’t quite as big as her mom’s, they’re still more than a handful, and she’s a little taller than Tami Lynn to boot. She’s also just as much of a selfish cunt as our mom, and, just to put the cherry on top, she’s into cheerleading. My trailer trash mom, of course, thinks this is the best thing ever.
We were barely scraping out a living, mainly because Tami Lynn thinks almost any real job is beneath her, when she met Craig. She met him at the gym. Did I say were were barely making a living? Yes, I did, and we were, but Tami Lynn always managed to keep a gym membership, and one day, when she was doing squats, Craig apparently caught a look at her high-cut leotard crawling up the crack of her ass and decided to strike up a conversation.
Which is how we became the Brady Bunch. Well, not really the Bradys. Craig’s last name is actually Bradley, but that is how we all came, after Craig and Tami Lynn got married, to live in his big house, just Craig and Tami Lynn and Karli (who dropped the ‘Jo’ after the wedding; it didn’t go with her new social pretensions) and Cameron and Madison. Yes, Craig had two kids himself, a boy named Cameron, and a girl named Madison. Cam and Maddie; Cam’s a senior, Maddie is the same age as Karli, and me, I’m fourteen..
Now, you can see why Tami Lynn was interested in Craig; he’s basically a male version of her. Dude goes an easy six-three, in great shape (he swims and bikes and lifts and skis and … whatever else you can do) with dark hair and I guess what you call chiseled features. He also waited until he was through with puberty to have kids, so he’s forty to Tami Lynn’s thirty-two.
Cam and Maddie are the Golden Children. That’s literally a pretty good description of them: after twenty minutes outside on the first sunny day of spring, they’re both the color of a Kraft caramel. Their hair is that shade of light brown/dark blond that unveils gold streaks in that same twenty minute span. Cam plays football and baseball at school; Maddie plays volleyball and dives for a club team in the summer. That gives you an idea of the kind of shape they’re in. Their mom was a spectacular-looking blond who was a competitive swimmer in college. The Golden Children split the difference between their parents, with Cam looking more like Craig and Maddie looking more like their mom.
All in all, a great-looking family: Craig and Tami Lynn, the Golden Children, and Karli, all knockouts in their own fashion. Craig and Tami Lynn get constant compliments on how beautiful their children are, then people look at me.
Oh, yeah, about me. Now as the narrator and protagonist of this fucking story (and I’m not just using that as an intensifier; there really will be a lot of fucking going on), you should know a little about me. I’ll try to be as reliable a narrator as I can, so let’s start by describing myself.
I’m a little below average height, wiry if you’re being kind, skinny if you’re not, with a buckshot spray of freckles across my face. Now, this is where, in other stories like this, the narrator says something like “but I’ve got a fourteen-inch cock as big around as Schwarzenegger’s forearm.” I don’t, not even close. I don’t know, mine might be a little bigger than average, but that could just be an optical illusion because I’m so skinny. I am, however, really good at school. I do well in all my classes, but I really like science, especially chemistry, and now that I’ve mentioned that, we can get to the meat (heh, heh) of this tale.
I was in the science lab with my friend, Eugene. The Chem II teacher, Mr. Prothro, had let us in to work on a class project. I was working on said project, but Eugene was a little distracted. You see, Mr. Prothro had asked a former student, a guy who was now an engineer, to give us a presentation on his career. Mr. Engineer thought it would be cool to bring along an optical laser to show us the kind of tools he used. He was right; it was amazing cool, the presentation was great, everything was awesome, but the laser was still in the lab (he needed it for presentations to later classes) and now, instead of helping me measure chemicals, Eugene was distracted by the awesome tool on the work table. I admit, I was getting a little pissed off; I might not have been paying as much attention as I should have to the amounts I was mixing, I don’t know, but I do know that I finally said, “Eugene, would you stop fucking around with that thing and help me!”
Well, Eugene jumped (I kinda yelled), flipped the ‘go’ button on the laser, and bumped it. It fired, right into the beaker in front of me. There was a flash and a ‘whoomp’, a cloud of crystals, and a smell kinda like oranges and peppermints. I kinda panicked when I realized I was breathing in an unknown mixture of chemicals (I told you I hadn’t paid much attention to the amounts) that had been ionized by a laser. I felt light-headed, but then I realized that I was hyperventilating. I took a few deep breaths and felt my heart rate slow. Now, I didn’t feel woozy, but I did have a strange tingling running through my body. It faded even as I became aware of it. I looked at Eugene.
And it was weird. I could see he was upset; I don’t mean I could infer it from his body language, I mean I could see his adrenaline and stress levels and emotional state, but even that’s not right. It’s not like I could actually see them on a readout, but I knew what they were. I knew his heart rate had spiked and his cortisol level was through the roof. At the same time, I could see him more clearly than I ever had before. I don’t know how to explain it, I just know that it was like before I was seeing him in 720 and now I was seeing him in 4K. He was about to cry, so I said, “Eugene, calm down.” Well, he kept spiraling, so I snapped, with a little more force, “Eugene, calm down!”
And it happened. I saw it happen, or felt it happen. The stress indicators went down, his mood went up. I was in shock, because I knew I had done that, and I knew because I could feel the feedback in my system.
It knocked me for a loop, let me tell you. I was still stunned when we went to lunch and I realized that I could see anyone I concentrated on the way I had seen Eugene. It was kinda like that old horror trope, where you can hear everyone’s thoughts and it drives you mad, but it was actually easy to turn this off. I could actually sort of put whatever this was in ‘sleep’ mode. My mind was reeling as we left lunch, but I got another jolt in fifth period. At lunch, I had seen Alesha Watson, a really pretty girl in our class. In the middle of History II, I kinda zoned out and thought of her.
And I was there. Not physically there, but I could see her, like I had seen Eugene and the other kids at lunch, and I realized I kinda had total control of the view. I could see close, I could pull away, I could move around her (she was in Algebra I, by the way, a class taught by Ms. Montague), I could see her mood, which was kinda low. I pushed at her mood indicators (don’t ask me how, but I could), and she got happier.
This left me with a lot to chew on, and I spent the rest of the day, testing parameters. I found that once I had focused on someone in person, their information was in, like, a database or something that I could access. I found that I could alter mood and outlook, and I discovered that I could affect their mood independent of myself, or if I chose to, I could tag along on the mood ride with them.
By the time school was over, I was dizzy. I rode the bus home, did my homework, and ate dinner in a fog. I went to my room after dinner, and there I made the discovery that would set everything in motion.
I had a book open, but I wasn’t really reading it. I was thinking about everything I had learned that day, how I could find people by this unique signature that I could identify, how I could interact with them, influence their mood, and what the results of this might be. That was when I heard the water start running in the shower. Cam and I share a bathroom between our bedrooms. Cam was apparently taking his evening shower. I really just thought of it as trying to figure out more about these strange abilities I had, but when I went into admin mode (that’s how I had begun to think of it), I got a real surprise.
I could see Cam in that weird 4K way that I was able to see Eugene and Alesha and anybody else I had focused on, so that was ‘normal’ (funny how quick we adjust to new circumstances), but I was not prepared for the fact that Cam was jacking off in the shower. I know that shoudn’t be a surprise; I’ve peeled the chilies myself a time or two (or a hundred) in there, but this was … different. First, because I could see him as clear as if I was standing in the shower stall with him. His hair was slicked straight back as the water ran down his chest and washboard abs, and his hand was fully occupied with his boner.
And it was a good boner … long, thick, veiny, with a mushroom-shaped head. Cam was working it nice and slow, really enjoying his pull, sliding his hand out to the end, then rubbing his thumb over the piss-hole, then back down the shaft. His free hand played with his balls. The weird thing, I could ‘see’ (I don’t know any other way to describe it) things like his endorphin levels and heart rate and arousal level. He was probably thinking about his girlfriend Hayley as he milked his dick.
Hayley is the Ice Queen to the Golden Children. She’s tall and athletic, like them (basketball and track), but she’s got that ash-blonde hair that basically turns white in the sun, and she’ll tan a little, but she’ll never look burnished bronze like them. She’s also really good-looking: her features are sharper than Maddie’s (for instance), but they give her a haughty, regal look, which is part of the Ice Queen moniker. At that moment, Cam was fantasizing about bending her over the hood of his car, flipping up her skirt, and fucking her senseless.
I found that I was rubbing my own dick and decided ‘Why not’, so I laid aside my book and pulled down my pants and was soon pumping my own derrick. I could tell Cam was getting close to orgasm, and the thought suddenly entered my mind ‘What if’, so I … pushed. That’s the only way to describe it. I identified the indicators that were increasing, and I tamped them down. I almost snorted with laughter when Cam became confused. He had suddenly gone from just about to blow to hanging fire. He sped up his stroking, and I decided to experiment. It turned out I could keep Cam at that level where you feel the orgasm coming, but it’s not there, that great pre-nut moment of pleasure, which kept him jerking, but he couldn’t bring himself off. I had stopped jacking; what I was doing to Cam was more interesting. I kept him at that edge for five minutes, then decided to see what came (ha ha) next. I released everything, and a squirt of jizz like an unmanned fire hose spurted from Cam’s tallywhacker. It hit the back of the shower stall, followed by four more jets, each a little shorter than the other. Cam actually staggered a little bit, his levels were all over the place. As he turned around to let the spray wash the spunk off his dick and trembling legs, I lay in my bed as a plan began to grow: I was going to find out all I could about these powers I now had, and then, I would humiliate and corrupt these bastards in the way they deserved.
I spent the next few weeks conducting experiments, trying to find the limits of what I could do, and at the end of that time I had discovered that:
A. I had no control over matter. I couldn’t give myself a nine-inch cock or make a girl who was a 34A into a 34DD. That’s just physics; I couldn’t create matter.
B. I was able to detect and control hormonal levels and thus emotional levels.
C. I was able to share some aspects of experiences with whoever I was controlling, including a weird form of sight that was the equivalent of having a drone-mounted hi-def GoPro.
D. The more I knew about a person’s baseline and responses, the finer the control I had over the entire process.
E. I could effect certain reactions, namely, I could shrink the refractory period and control the intensity and amount of orgasm. There was no free lunch, though, so if I shrank the refractory period so that a male could cum, say, five times in an hour, he was pretty much going to sleep for about twelve hours. Similarly, if I maxed out his ejaculatory capacity at that pace, mild dehydration was the result. I learned that the hard way. I could also delay orgasm for males or females, and I could also trigger orgasm in either sex.
Discovering that one was fun; I’d already known I could delay cumming (Cam in the shower, remember, and my own self-pleasuring), so I wondered if it worked the other way. Pretty idle thoughts really, but one night, Cam came to the dinner table in his gym shorts. He’d been kind of a dick that day, especially after school when I was supposed to get a ride home from him. He’d pulled the old ‘pull away when you reach for the door’ trick, making me chase him from one end of the parking lot to the other, which his jock buddies found super-funny. I did not, so I was kinda pissed at him already. He sat down and made some smart comment about me getting in my after-school workout, which got a big laugh from everyone at the table, and, like a little kid punching out, I just pushed at him.
Cam groaned and shifted to one side, and his face got really red. Karli, Maddi, and Craig stared at him (Tami Lynn was in the kitchen getting ready to bring out the food), but I knew what had happened. When I pushed, I’d dialed it up to eleven, and Cam had just blown an enormous load of thick, creamy jizz that was already soaking through his underwear and the gray jersey of his shorts. If he’d stood up, he’d have revealed the world’s biggest cumstain. I was still ticked off that everyone had laughed, so I went around the table. First, Maddie, whose closed her eyes and tried not to whimper as she suddenly creamed her jeans, then Karli, who flushed red as she girlgasmed in her shorts, then finally Craig, who was staring at his kids and wondering what had happened when he soiled his khakis with a sticky mess courtesy of yours truly. I was feeling pretty smug, and that was before Mom walked in.
The drop in conversation and the weird noises made her wonder what was happening, so she came out of the kitchen to see what was going on. I waited until she was close to the table before I flicked her switch. She gasped and almost went to one knee. The hilarious thing was, she put out her hand to steady herself and it landed on Craig’s thigh, where she could feel the squishy load he’d pumped out. The rest of dinner was silent, and everyone except me had to find some way to leave the table without revealing that he or she wore pants or shorts that were sticky with cum. That night as I lay in bed I got hard and jacked off to the guilt and shame I would detect in everyone’s minds.
F. I could not read minds as such, but I could, through monitoring the various hormone and endocrine levels, pretty much determine the thoughts of anyone on whom I was concentrating. I also found out that I could control the actions and behavior of other people. I had wondered if I might be able to do this, but it was something that happened with Maddie that confirmed it.
It was kind of a fluke that it occurred at all. Cam was on a date with Hayley, Karli was at some cheerleading team-building thing, and Craig and Tami Lynn were out to dinner with another couple. That left me and Maddie alone in the house, which almost never happened. I was in my room, finishing my homework and keeping an eye on Maddie, who was working out in the basement gym. I was just kind of idling along at a low level, see D.
Anyway, I’m monitoring Maddie, when it occurs to me that I have to piss. I noticed a spike in her levels, and I realize that she’s reacting to the thought of me pissing. I let it lay until I finished my homework, than I sat back and plotted my next moves.
I pushed impressions about pissing again, but specifically impressions about me pissing. I tried to be as detailed as I could, trying to create a picture of a powerful yellow stream flowing from my penis. Whenever I pushed one of these impressions, I also stoked Maddie’s pleasure response. Basically, I was mentally fingering her as I ‘whispered’ in her ear about how hot it would be when I took a leak.
I had amped her up pretty high by the time my bladder got too full to ignore. I pushed one more impression, my decision to go to the bathroom and how glorious this whizz would be. As I walked down the hallway, I knew that Maddie had left the basement and was creeping up the stairs. I went into the bathroom, but I didn’t close the door completely. Maddie snuck along the hall, wearing spandex shorts and a sports bra. She was so turned on that she pinched her nipples as she tiptoed closer to the door. I took my time unzipping my fly; I wanted her to hear the metal teeth sliding down. Maddie began rubbing her crotch through her shorts. I decided that it was worth pushing one more time. I implanted in her psyche the idea that this would be more satisfying if she touched bare skin. As I started to pee, Maddie peeled off her short and began buffing her muffin in earnest.
I kept my stream at about half-power, strong enough for a noisy, fulfilling piss, but maximizing the duration of my urination. Matti rubbed her pussy hard, grinding the heel of her hand against her mons. The longer I peed the higher I pushed her arousal. She grabbed her shorts and stuffed them into her mouth to stifle her moans. She slipped the middle two fingers of her right hand into her sopping snatch while she pinched and twisted her nipples with her left hand. My bladder was about empty, so I sighed and pushed out one hard squirt, and that’s when I nudged her over. I heard her groan even through the impromptu gag she’d used. She shook and shivered, then, her orgasm finally over, slunk back downstairs. I washed my hands for a long time to give her plenty of space to creep away.
I’m gonna break in here and explain something. There’s about to be a lot of freaky shit happening. I had a hand in it, but I’m not gonna interrupt every few minutes and tell you what I did; I’m just gonna tell you what happened. If you think ‘Man, that’s perverted’, it’s my responsibility. If you say ‘Nobody would react that way’, that’s me, too. I’m driving this bus. I also want to make sure you understand something: the purpose of a lot of what’s about to happen is about humiliation. That means I need people who are ashamed of what they’re doing, but can’t stop doing it anyway. So, with that understood, here’s how I put my plan intp action.
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