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The Chinese Girl
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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Another mind control story, this time using telepathy. Feel free to copy,
but don't extract out of context or claim as your own. Comments and
suggestions are welcome, especially those based on your own fantasy ideas.
Enjoy,
The Mind Control Fan
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The Chinese Girl
I had managed to obtain the last component of my telepathic amplifier at
great expense and hardship. I was anxious to test it out, but I was also
flat broke. Maybe I could work on both goals at the same time. I
reassembled the amplifier, stuck it in my pocket, and headed off for the
Campus Employment Office.
I got there after a short walk, signed out the thin folder of
neurobiology jobs, and looked around for a seat. I was in luck. The place
was packed, but there was an empty seat across from a rather good-looking
Chinese girl. She was wearing jeans cut-off shorts and a light blue San
Francisco t-shirt showing Coit Tower. She looked up briefly at me, saw
that I was neither someone she knew or needed to be concerned about, and
returned to her work. She was writing down addresses and phone numbers in
a notebook, presumably looking for summer jobs. She appeared to be very
diligent and organized. She would be a perfect test subject.
I tried projecting my first thought commands. "I am the guy sitting
across from you. Pass your wallet to me, but don't consciously realize
that you're doing so." The Chinese girl paused in her writing. I held my
breath. Her right hand dropped her pen and began rooting around in her
purse. Her head was still cocked in her left hand, and she was still
frowning at what she was reading in undiminished concentration. Her right
hand emerged, holding the wallet, and slid it across the table towards me.
Her hand then went back to pick up the pen. I watched as the Chinese girl
resumed writing, none the wiser.
My heart began to race, and I needed to take a few deep breaths. Fuckin
A, the amplifier actually worked. My years of research had finally paid
off. Screw the dissertation, the interminable experiments, the fights with
my advisor, the droning conferences. I could now look forward to a life of
wealth and idle pleasure. Thoughts raced through my head as I glanced
through the wallet. I saw that the Chinese girl's name was Kim Lee. I
briefly inspected assorted family pictures and credit cards and then put
everthing back. I returned the wallet to the middle of the table. "You
can take your wallet back now, but don't notice that either." Her right
hand did so. I was anxious to move on to more intricate and pleasurable
commands.
"Kim, I'll be giving you a series of mental commands over the next
several hours. Please obey all of them without hesitation. As you obey
them, don't realize that you're doing so or that anything out of the
ordinary is going on. To the best of your knowledge you'll be continuing
to go uninterrupted through the job lists. Nod if you understand." The
Chinese girl's head bobbed once, causing her long hair to fall across her
face. Her hand came up to brush it back.
"Take off your right shoe and put it on the table between us." The
Chinese girl's hand released the pen and dropped beneath the table. She
leaned over, lowering her shoulder, at the same time swiveling her head to
maintain a clear view of what she was reading. She fumbled for a long time
with something near the floor. Kim's hand finally came up holding a sandal
with multiple straps and buckles, which it then dropped matter-of-factly in
the middle of the table.
Kim straightened up in her chair and resumed her writing. I kept
examining her, waiting for some reaction. She finally realized someone was
staring in her direction and raised her head. I didn't want to spook the
Chinese girl, so I quickly glanced away. She looked around for a minute
and then returned to her note-taking, shaking her head. To prevent this
from being an ongoing problem, I suggested that to Kim that she wouldn't
notice if I stared at her in the future. I also moved my knapsack to
temporarily cover her shoe.
Time to give myself a present. "Kim, play footsie with me under the
table. Be sure to pay special attention to rubbing my crotch." I felt the
well-manicured toes of the Chinese girl start to swirl around my ankle.
Upstairs, Kim's note-taking was going well. Downstairs, her foot slipped
under my pants leg and began rubbing itself along my calves. It then
circled around my knees and ran lightly across my inner thighs. The
Chinese girl unknowingly slumped in her seat to give her leg greater reach.
By the time her foot began to fondle my crotch I was already quite hard.
After several minutes of increasingly vigorous stroking from Kim's lower
extremity I was ready to come. I gave off a sibilant moan. My Chinese
girl looked up at me with a brief expression of prim digust (for making
such a rude noise in a public place) and returned to her reading. I
reached between my legs and with some effort managed to immobilize her
squirming foot. It was deceptively muscular. I tickled her sole and
looked up. No reaction. I pinched her foot as hard as I could. Still no
reaction. This was interesting. I had managed to totally dissociate
arbitrarily selected regions of perceptual and motor cortex from the
cognitive association areas. This could be fun for hours. I mentally
suggested to my Chinese girl that she stop and put her shoe back on. It
was time for me to figure out what we should do next.
I decided I wanted to know more about my first test subject. Since Kim
already had a notebook and a pen, it would be easy for me to give her a
writing assignment. I had her turn to a fresh page and mentally dictated a
short preface, which she carefully copied. I then gave her some open-ended
questions. I took my paper lunch bag out of my knapsack, leaving the rest
of my stuff in front of her, and stood up. Her instructions were to finish
my assignment and then to continue with the work that she had really came
here for. As I walked out, I saw her hunched over her seat, scribbling
furiously, the tip of her tongue poking out from the corner of her lip.
I came back from lunch after forty-five minutes and saw Kim still
scribbling away. I resumed my seat in front of her, placing my empty lunch
bag back on the table. She was apparently still working on my assignment.
My Chinese girl finally stopped writing about five minutes later and put
down her pen. She paused, looking like a wind-up toy whose spring had
just run down. Then she started up again, turning back several pages
in her notebook to resume jotting down the phone numbers and addresses of
prospective jobs.
After working so hard it was time for her to take a break. First I had
her tear out the notebook pages containing her assignment, and slide them
to me. They were covered front and back with neat, well-formed script. I
made some additional telepathic suggestions. Kim stood up, reached out her
hand to grab my empty lunch bag, and started to head towards the bathroom.
I had an excellent view of her tight butt swaying back and forth as she
walked out.
While I was waiting for her to come back, I looked over what she had
written. First came the dictation. "My name is Kim Lee, and I am your
slave. I'm not even aware that I'm writing this. Isn't that funny? My
silly brain still thinks that I'm busily looking for summer jobs. However,
the rest of me is anxious and willing to obey your every command. Please
don't feel guilty about taking advantage of me, since it won't bother me in
the slightest way. I know that you are a hard-working, underappreciated,
and very intelligent graduate student who deserves the quality recreation
that my firm young body can provide." Next came her signature, followed by
her answers on the essay section of my assignment.
Being a conscientious student, Kim had copied each of the questions
down. They were as follows:
1) Please supply all the relevant details about yourself that you would
expect to fill in if this were a job application to a modeling agency.
2) Please describe all your sexual experiences and fantasies during the
past week.
3) Please describe your deepest, most embarrasing secret.
The details of Kim's responses are best left to the gentle imaginations of
my readers.
I skimmed the essays, keeping one eye on the door, awaiting Kim's
return. I heard suppressed laughter and looked up. My Chinese girl had
just come back into the room. She also heard the laughter and looked
around to find its source. This caused even more laughter. Blushing
vaguely in embarrassment and confusion, Kim headed back to her seat across
from me. She was barefoot, but this wasn't the reason everyone was
laughing. It had more to do with the sandals that she held unwittingly
between her tightly clenched teeth.
As she passed me, Kim casually deposited my paper lunch bag back on my
side of the table. She sat down across from me and resumed her
note-taking. I looked at the sandals dangling from her mouth and smiled.
They were quite funny. They were also drawing too much attention, so I had
her drop them back into the center of the table. I took a peek in the
lunch bag. In it were her bra and panties, which she had also unknowingly
taken off while in the bathroom and brought back to me. I waited five
minutes and then quietly moved all these treasures to the safety of my
knapsack.
I looked over at Kim's breasts, loosely shrouded within her t-shirt.
"Yawn and stretch," I prompted. She did so, tightening the fabric around
her breasts and conveniently displaying her large nipples. "Again,
please." My Chinese girl uncomplainingly complied. "Once more." Her
breasts swelled a third time. I felt my cock hardening again and knew it
was time for us to depart for a more private location.
"Kim, please pack up your things. It's time for us to go." My Chinese
girl cooperatively stopped writing and shoved her pen and notebook inside
her knapsack. I packed up my own stuff. I then relayed another virtual
scene to keep her occupied. "Kim, in a minute I'll get up and start
walking out of here. You'll follow, staying about 10 feet behind me.
You'll no longer think that you're looking for jobs in the campus
employment office. Instead, while you're following me and until I give you
further notice, you'll think that you're walking home. The walk will take
a lot longer than usual, because you'll keep running into old friends whom
you haven't seen in a while and who'll have a lot of fascinating things to
say. As before, you will continue to obey all orders that I give you
without question, and you won't notice that you're doing anything out of
the ordinary." I stood up, and we walked out of the building.
I started strolling through the campus with Kim in my wake. In front of
me I spotted a blond linguistics grad from one of my seminars. She was
walking slowly, deep in conversation with her chair, gesturing furiously
while making some bullshit academic point. I had been fantasizing about
getting into those tight pants for some time now. "Go to the library and
wait on the steps," I projected. "Wait on the steps and smile at people as
they pass by." The blond grad blinked several times, looking momentarily
confused. Then she stopped talking, turned, and began striding rapidly in
the direction of the library. "Uh, I guess we'll take this up again
later," hurredly called out the grad's chair to her trailing backside.
I loved my new toy. It would be especially fun at parties. I looked
around, searching for ideas. "Hop," I commanded to my human shadow.
Behind me, the Chinese girl tucked her rear leg tightly beneath her ass.
She commenced bobbing stiffly up and down on the other leg, cheeks,
breasts, and ass all jiggling at once. "Faster," I said, making the
oscillations of her body parts even more frenzied. She began to flail her
arms to try to keep her balance. I didn't want her to hurt herself
unduely. "Okay, go back to just walking." The Chinese girl flowed back
into her usual athletic glide.
Kim and I reached the front door of the Neurosciences Building. My
office was on the third floor. I normally would have taken the elevator,
but today I preferred the stairs. I had my Chinese girl walk closely in
front of me, so I had an excellent view of the muscles rippling and
bunching in her legs and calves as she climbed. We reached my office door,
and I unlocked it. Fortunately, no one was around, although I suppose with
my new toy it wouldn't have made much difference. I turned on the light,
and Kim followed me in.
"Stand at attention, Private Kim," I mentally barked, as I reached out
to close the door. She immediately stiffened. I walked around her,
critically checking her posture. On a whim I decided to poke my finger
into her soft breasts and tight belly. This was a mistake. She flinched,
her unseeing eyes rolling in terror, her mouth opening wide as if
preparing to scream. I realized that from her point of view she had
suddenly been prodded by an invisible poltergeist in the middle of her
inner walk. "You didn't feel that," I quickly soothed her. "You won't
feel anything that happens between us." Her expression returned to its
previous bland serenity. That was close.
I moved to clear some space off my desk. I starting transferring piles
of computer print-outs, xerox reprints, old soda cans, and half-empty
potato chip bags to the floor. When I was done, I went over to my office
boom-box and popped in a CD. I turned the volume up about half-way. The
retro new-wave trilling of "Good Stuff" by the B-52's filled the room.
"Climb up there and dance for me," I prompted. Kim hurried to comply, and
I plopped down in my desk chair to watch.
In her own abstracted way, the Chinese girl was a very good dancer. The
movements of her head, hands, breasts, pelvis, and feet all counterpointed
each other in complex syncopation. After five minutes of strenuous
dancing, her arms and legs were covered with a sheen of sweat. Her
breathing rate, however, had hardly changed at all. Obviously, my Kim was
in good shape. As she started to sweat more, her t-shirt also became wet,
sticking to and outlining her breasts. With her long hair swaying behind
her, she looked very erotic.
"Strip," I commanded. She kept dancing, the shirt going over her head,
the shorts dropping to be kicked away. That was all she had on. "Fondle
yourself. Both hands, tits and cunt." Her dancing hands drifted to her
erogenous zones. Her dripping face remained impassive. I decided she
needed a touch of internal stimulation. "Kim, as you are walking home, you
see that guy Chuck, the one you were fantasizing about. He's coming over
to talk to you. Maybe he wants to ask you for a date. Isn't that
exciting?" At last, Kim's breathing started to quicken. Her nipples grew
red and hard, and the musk of her sex filled the air. She was ready, and
so was I.
I had already decided to take her doggy style with both of us standing.
My "all-nighter" couch afforded some other possiblities, but would have
been quite cramped. "Kim, stop dancing and climb down. Stand on your toes
about three feet in front of my desk. Lean forward and prop yourself up
with your arms." She did exactly as she was told. I unzipped my jeans and
dropped my shorts. As I reached out my hand to stroke her rounded ass, I
had another idea. "Kim, do me a favor. Each time I press into you, give
out a large squeak, as though you were a giant inflatable mouse." I
penetrated her easily and started thrusting myself vigorously forward
against her muscular butt.
"Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!
Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!"
"Unnhhh!" I collapsed on top of my Chinese girl, almost knocking her
over. In a daze I climbed off and started pulling up my clothes. Wow,
that was quite a rush. My head was still pounding.
I dropped into my chair a second time. I positioned Kim on her hands
and knees in front of me so I could lay my feet in the middle of her supple
back. Happy with my new living footrest, I leaned back in my chair,
simultaneously gazing out the window at the campus scurrying below me. I
reviewed my plans for the rest of the afternoon. The bank, and definitely
the mall. There was something I was forgetting. Ah yes, the library.
Can't miss the library. My tired cock stirred briefly. I hoped I was up
to it.
After getting my breath back, I stood up and reached for my knapsack. I
told Kim to get dressed and handed her back her bra and panties. I decided
to keep the sandals as a souvenir. It was time to say goodbye to my
favorite Chinese girl. "Kim, give me a kiss. The same kind of kiss that
you gave to that guy Bill when you were making out with him earlier this
week." Kim walked over to me, stood on her toes, put her arms around me,
and pressed her lips up towards mine. As our tongues met, I looked closely
into her wide, shining eyes. They were not blank - never blank - just
distracted. I reached up to stroke her hair. After a minute I broke off
the kiss, a little misty-eyed. I would miss her.
"Kim, go home. When you get to the part of the walk that you usually
take between the Campus Employment office and your house, merge what you've
been seeing in your head with what you're actually see in front of you.
After that perceive things the way you normally do, remembering that you
spent a perfectly ordinary day at the Campus Employment office looking for
summer jobs and that you're now going home. However, don't realize that
your sandals are missing until you get back to your room, or until someone
points it out to you." She picked up her knapsack and her purse and headed
for my door. The last thing of I ever saw of the Chinese girl was a
glimpse of her trim ankles turning the corner. I went on to have even more
exciting adventures with my telepathic amplifier. Kim never did figure out
what happened to those sandals.
The End
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