I Prefer the Mind Control Rewrite - Chapter 1
This is a rewrite of my I Prefer the Mind Control NaNo novel. Here's hoping the new version is more awesome! This chapter is NSFW.
---------
I had been pretending to study for hours and needed some fucking coffee if I wanted to have the remotest chance of achieving actual productivity.
My study partner, Jamie, raised an eyebrow. “And where do you think you’re going, Dylan? We have work to do.”
I said, “I need some coffee.”
She muttered, “Haven’t you had enough coffee? You’ve got to have more coffee than blood in your veins by now, and it’s not making you learn anything.”
I got up from the table. “Maybe I need to get rid of the parts that are still blood.”
Jamie shook her head. “Never mind. I think I’m just gonna study on my own, okay?”
Was I that fucking useless? Hey, don’t look at me like that. I am not that useless, author. Yeah, I know I’m fictional. Does that surprise you?
Anyway, I gathered my books and stuffed them in my backpack, since Jamie evidently didn’t want to help me study. I half-thought her decision to stop helping was part of a conspiracy to make her grades better relative to mine for the curve. Damn, I was getting fucking paranoid. The clear solution? Coffee. Coffee totally helped with paranoia, right?
Jamie would be fucking fine, anyway. She was a smart girl who never seemed to have academic trouble, unlike me who got along with the French language as a well as politicians got along with telling the truth.
Sighing, I exited the library, trying to ignore the students who seemed to have no trouble studying at their desks. Maybe they were all secretly playing Scaredy Cats on their smartphones. It wasn’t like I had never done that. I’m sure you have, too. Don’t lie to me.
Unfortunately, the line for the coffee shop outside the library was fucking long. SynthBrew, as it was called, was a popular destination for overtired and overworked college students. They even called the coffee itself SynthBrew as part of a gimmick. Some author who attended this school once upon a time called coffee SynthBrew in her stories. Whatever, it had fucking caffeine in it either way without being an ass-flavored energy drink.
“This line is terribly long, isn’t it?” a voice behind me murmured.
Wait, were they talking to me? Did this guy want to make fucking small talk? I didn’t have enough available neurons for small talk. I wondered what would come out of my mouth. Trying to collect my thoughts enough to answer, I turned my head around. And my heart fucking skipped a beat.
The guy wasn’t human.
He was Zimaran, part of a recently-discovered race of inhumanly beautiful humanoid beings with metallic eyes and, more importantly, fucking mind control powers. This particular Zimaran had to be six feet tall, with deeply tanned skin, ridiculously shiny black hair and bronze eyes. I couldn’t help staring, which would do wonders for the allegedly shaky relationship between our two planets.
At least I was resistant to Zimaran psychic abilities, which were supposed to induce helpless lust on their targets. Some humans couldn’t be influenced, and I had to be one of those.
“Are you okay?” the Zimaran asked.
Right. Small talk. We were supposed to be having it. “I’m -- I’m fine. Just -- what is a Zimaran doing in a human college coffee shop?”
Not exactly smooth there.
He said, “I happen to like SynthBrew. Is that so odd?”
“Yeah, it kinda fucking is. Most people who come here aren’t so impossibly pretty,” I blurted out.
If what I said before wasn’t smooth, that line was fucking sandpaper. Great going, self.
He smiled. “I could say the same thing about you. You’re not exactly average in terms of physical appearance.”
Wait, what?
“Did you just call me pretty?” I stammered.
“I did. I hope that doesn’t bother you,” he murmured.
I said, “So do you have a name, guy who thinks I’m pretty for some reason?”
His lips thinned, ever so slightly. “I’m Xan, and the reason I think you’re pretty is because you are.” Xan’s voice suggested I shouldn’t fucking argue.
Xan? That name sounded fucking familiar. Probably deja vu from not having enough caffeine in my system.
Looking at Xan made my already-limited brain capacity even more limited. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear he was using his mind control powers on me to make me act stupid.
“Did you know I’m resistant to Zimaran mind control?” I said.
Surely, that was ideal fuckin small talk.
Xan raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you now? You’ve had someone try to control you before? You’re pretty enough, I would be surprised if someone had tried.”
Why did he insist I was pretty? And I just knew, okay? What, why don’t you believe me, author? You can totally “just know,” right? Obviously you can. Obviously.
I felt my face heat up. Blushing, awesome. “Okay, nobody’s tried it on me, technically. But I just know. There’s no reason I wouldn’t be resistant.”
He raised his eyebrow higher. “No reason? But you have no reason to know that you would be resistant.”
Good fucking point.
“I just am resistant,” I said.
His eyes sparkled. “Care to prove your resistance? And I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Dylan, and what?”
“I have a challenge for you, Dylan. I’ll try to put the mind control on you, just to see if you’re resistant to it. Then, if it does work on you, I’ll take it off. I have no desire to take someone without his consent; I simply want to see if your assurance is correct,” Xan murmured.
He smirked, clearly daring me to back up my words. While the idea of mind control made me kinda fucking nervous, I wasn’t going to back down from those beautiful twinkling eyes.
I looked him directly in the eye. “Go ahead, I dare you.”
Xan looked back at me.
What the fuck?
Suddenly, I could hardly fucking stand. A -- a feeling had come over me. Something strange had grabbed my mind.
No fucking way.
The power -- it worked on me. How was that even possible? My legs quivered with the feeling, which was -- it felt kind of awesome. Weird as fuck, but awesome. I should have resented Xan for being able to get into my mind like that, but I couldn’t. Instead, I smiled at him.
Finally, the line for SynthBrew moved forward. Unfortunately, I failed at walking. When I took a step forward, I stumbled, landing in Xan’s arms.
He grabbed me. “I see you’re not as resistant as you liked to think.”
Being my author, you knew that, didn’t you? Damn you. I would be madder at you, but it felt really cool so I’m not pissed.
The feeling went away. Xan let me go. Without his mind control on me, I could stand just fine, but I felt oddly empty.
“I guess I’m not so fucking resistant,” I breathed.
Xan smiled. “I had a feeling you might not be.”
My cheeks flushed, and I struggled with some kind of fucking emotion I couldn’t immediately identity. Was that -- disappointment?
It was.
“I -- I kinda liked it,” I mumbled. “And I -- I wouldn’t be, like, averse to you putting it back on. Except why would you do that?”
What the fuck was I even saying?
Xan made an odd, unreadable face. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because,” I muttered.
“That’s not an answer,” he said.
No, it wasn’t.
My face felt fucking hot. “So, um, would you want to, you know? Because, um, between mind control and no mind control, um -- I prefer the mind control.”
Maybe my fucking social skills were why I couldn’t ever get a date. What was I doing trying to proposition a gorgeous man from a whole other planet? Talk about out of my league!
He put an arm around my waist. I startled slightly. Was Xan really going to?
Xan looked right at me. That feeling came back. I would have fallen down if not for the arm around my waist.
“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private?” Xan murmured. “I could take you back to my apartment, if you like.”
I leaned into him. “I would fucking love that.”
He gripped me tighter and lead me away from the line at the coffee shop. I guessed I wouldn’t be getting any SynthBrew today, but I didn’t fucking care because I would be getting something even tastier.
What? You don’t like the “tasty” descriptor? Too fucking bad.
When we got to the library parking lot, my jaw dropped to the center of the Earth because damn.
“You car looks like a spaceship,” I breathed.
Xan chuckled. “It’s a custom model. My dads insisted I drive something nice, even on Earth.”
“Dads?”
He said, “I have two. No moms.”
“That’s cool,” I murmured.
My shock at the sheer fucking luxuriousness of the car didn’t stop when I got inside. It was upholstered in the softest black leather I had ever encountered. Ever. It was fit for royalty, seriously.
I lay my hand on the divider between the two front seats, and Xan put his hand on top of mine. He gave it a squeeze. “You’re sure about this?”
“Absolutely, Xan. I totally fucking want you,” I said.
He squeezed my hand again. “Usually humans aren’t so -- enthusiastic about being mind controlled. Enough of them find it rather odd and actually break the control themselves. Some like it, but it’s not like it is on Zimara.”
I smiled. “Odd? Sure it’s odd, but but it’s the kind of odd that makes me want to fuck you.”
Xan laughed. “So everything is good then. It’s not often I get to bring home someone so pretty.”
“I’m not-”
He gripped my hand harder than was strictly necessary. “I’m not going to take you if you keep trying to insist you’re not pretty when you most certainly are.”
That shut me up.
Soon enough, we arrived at the fucking future. Yeah, I know Xan couldn’t actually time travel. Still, his apartment building looked like something out of a science fiction movie, all sparkling and crystalline. It looked like a giant fucking crystal, seriously. So I’m gonna say it was the fucking future, okay?
To make the building even less earthly, rainbow lights lit it up, cycling through all the colors. It didn’t feel real. Getting to have a hot alien partner didn’t feel real, either. To complete the “this is not fucking happening” motif, the doormen, dressed in very space age black and silver uniforms, bowed to Xan and didn’t get up until he made a weird gesture at them.
“What the fuck?” I asked when we were out of earshot.
“They’re Zimaran,” he muttered. “The whole building is.”
That didn’t really explain anything. “So the bowing is some Zimaran custom?”
“You could say that,” he mumbled.
I got the weirdest feeling he didn‘t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to do anything to reduce my chances of getting some.
Xan lead me by the hand to a special elevator that went directly to the penthouse.
“You live in the fucking penthouse?” I breathed. “Just what do your dads do for a living?”
Was he blushing? “Lucrative government work.”
“Your government provides jobs that pay this well?” I asked. I wondered if he meant they did military contracting or some other similarly sketchy but wealth-generating shit.
Xan didn’t answer as the elevator door opened. The ridiculous elevator had its own black leather couch. Zimarans seemed to like their black leather-type stuff. Their leather was so nice, I wondered if it were some magic space age fabric. And the Zimarans loved their shiny silver shit. And their rainbow lights, which were everywhere. I definitely wasn’t in human territory anymore.
We sat down on the couch, and Xan -- he wasted no fucking time. He kissed me on the lips, roughly, and pushed me all the way down onto the couch. I gasped in surprise. Damn, that felt good. He slid his hand under my shirt; I shivered at his touch before wrapping my arms around him, sliding one hand under his shirt.
Already, I felt a fucking ache between my legs. The mind control made everything -- it made things somehow different. And much fucking sexier than normal.
I moaned against Xan’s lips when he pressed his tongue into my mouth. I met his tongue with my own. He sure knew how to use his.
The elevator stopped before we could do anything more. I actually fucking whined when Xan got off me.
He smirked. “Eager, aren’t you? Don’t worry, the break is only temporary.”
Then, he took my hand and lead me out of the elevator. Xan’s eyes sparkled, and my heart fucking skipped a beat. Damn, he was fucking gorgeous.
The door to his apartment? Less fucking gorgeous and more just plain scary. It had a retina scanner and a touchpad. Xan had to enter some code and tell it he had a guest over. Never did he let go of my hand while he did any of the weird security measures.
He looked at me sheepishly. “My parents believe in security.”
“Evidently,” I muttered.
We entered the apartment. It looked like an even fancier version of his fucking car, with silver and black leather everything, plus rainbow lights like whoa. It felt so, well, alien. The gigantic television on the wall in the entertainment room grounded me, because even aliens liked to show off their wealth with fancy fucking electronics.
I heard the strangest noise. Like -- like someone was speaking in an alien language. Like Xan had someone in his apartment.
And he did. Another impossibly good looking alien guy appeared. We sort of stared at each other. He was a little shorter than Xan, with dark brown skin, black hair, a muscular body and fucking violet eyes. Violet, like something out of bad fanfiction.
I would worry he’s a fucking Mary Sue with those eyes, but I’m the main character, right? Doesn’t that mean he’s less likely to be a Sue? Or Marty Stu, since he’s a guy? And all Zimarans have weird eyes, so yeah.
The new guy smirked. “Guess I should speak English now. So you brought home a human? He’s cute. Too bad his species means we can’t share your lover this time. Don’t think Earthlings go for that.”
“Share?” Did that mean what I thought it meant?
“Jirrin, now is not the time,” Xan muttered. “I didn’t think you would still be here.”
“We Zimarans like to share our lovers,” he said.
“You can do that with the mind control?” I asked.
“You’re curious, aren’t you? Oh yeah, a Receiver of the powers can be controlled by multiple people. The Giver of the mind control decides who their Receiver sleeps with, granting permission for another Giver to share in the control.” Jirrin’s violet eyes twinkled.
Xan shifted on his feet. He seemed kind of uncomfortable, though I didn’t think he had any reason to be.
Jirrin gave me a look. “So, are you interested in being shared?”
I said, “Based on what you told me, I don’t think it’s up to me if I’m interested or not. Doesn’t Xan get to decide that? I have no moral problem being shared or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
Both Xan and Jirrin gave me odd looks. Jirrin said, “Xan, you’ve sure got yourself an interesting little human plaything here. Never met one who wanted to give up control that much.”
Xan murmured, “You’re sure about this, Dylan?”
I gave his hand a squeeze. “Completely. It’s, like, sexy to -- to let you decide and stuff.”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me quickly before letting me go again. “If that’s how you feel, then I’m more than happy to share you.”
I said, “So, what do you want me to do?”
Jirrin growled, “Give him to me” and looked me in the eye.
I felt something shift in my brain, like with Xan.
Whoa, that was fucking trippy.
“There are two people in my brain!” I breathed.
Jirrin murmured, “It worked.”
He pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. He was no fucking time-waster, either. Jirrin slipped a hand under my shirt, causing me to shiver. When he raked his nails along my back, I shivered even harder. I definitely ached between my legs now.
That only got worse when Xan approached and kissed the back of my neck. Jirrin pressed his tongue forward. I accepted it eagerly. My body flushed from standing between the two of them as I kissed Jirrin. I moaned with the fucking awesomeness of it.
I could feel the two of them in my mind, taking it over and making it hard to think, in the best kind of way. I moaned as they grabbed my shirt, pulling it off me. Jirrin stopped kissing me, stepping away. Xan returned to kissing me on the neck, and he ran his hands up and down my chest. I gasped when he bit down, hard.
Xan purred, “You like a little pain, hmm?”
Jirrin murmured, “He does, I can tell. Now, I know what I want to do to him.”
“What -- do you wanna do?” I gasped.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” he said.
He started unbuckling my belt. Was he? Jirrin pulled down my jeans and boxers. I was fucking exposed and already obviously hard. As he knelt before me, I quivered with anticipation. It had -- been a while since I had anyone give me a blowjob.
When he took me in his mouth, I gasped again. It didn’t hurt that Xan bit down on my neck at the same time. Never in my life had I gotten quite this much positive attention.
Xan held me tighter. “Try not to squirm too much. We just might have to tie you up.”
“I -- wouldn’t mind that,” I said.
He laughed. “Of course you wouldn’t.”
Xan raked his nails along my chest as Jirrin worked me. Both of them -- damn, they knew what they were fucking doing. This was fucking incredible. It was incredible enough that I was having trouble standing. My legs wavered as Jirrin brought me ever closer to the edge.
Jirrin suddenly bit down on my cock, causing me to cry out in pain. It just made that fucking ache worse. Now, I really could barely stand. I leaned back into Xan, who was leaning forward in order to hold me.
“You’re -- good at this,” I gasped.
He chuckled as he slid his lips up my dick. At this rate, I wouldn’t last much fucking longer. That ache had reached almost impossible levels, and I kept shivering. I gasped and moaned as I neared the edge.
I cried out as I climaxed, my body tensing and releasing with a burst of pleasure. After that, I really couldn’t fucking stand; my knees buckled, and Xan had to catch me. Jirrin swallowed everything as I slid from his mouth.
Xan murmured, “We wore you out, didn’t we?”
“You did,” I breathed.
Jirrin said, “Why don’t you take off your shoes and socks and step out of those pants? We’ll give you some time to recover, but there’s no reason to put your clothes back on, is there?”
After Xan let go of me, I did as I was told. Even so, it was hard enough to move with the post-clmax brain fog of doom. Xan and Jirriin each took one of my hands and lead me up the fucking stairs to Xan’s bedroom. Yeah, he had a whole second floor, in an apartment.
“Damn, your bedroom is fancy,” I mutter.
And it fucking was. More shiny silver and black leather. This time the bed was a fucking canopy with black gauze hangings. Seriously.
While I stared at the bed as my brain recovered, Jirrin had somehow taken off all his clothes. I couldn’t help staring. Either he worked out a lot or had magic DNA because those muscles.
“You’re ridiculously hot,” I said.
Jirrin smirked. “I know how you can be a good little plaything and show how much you appreciate my looks.” He climbed onto the bed and sat kinda near the edge of it. “I think you know what to do?”
I did, so I bent myself forward and took Jirrin in my mouth, slowly at first. I slid my lips up and down his dick. He rewarded me by gasping with obvious pleasure. I had to be doing something right. Jirrin put his hands on my head, threading his fingers through my hair. He pulled on my hair to make my change my pace. As he did that, I felt the ache between my legs return.
Xan grabbed my shoulders. He leaned over me and whispered, “Are you recovered enough for me to fuck you?”
With my mouth around Jirrin’s cock, I couldn’t exactly tell him I was, so, of all things, I gave him a thumbs-up. Maybe it was the mind control, but I kind of didn’t want him to ask first.
I felt Xan spread my legs, so I grasped the sheets in anticipation as I continued to work Jirrin. Shivers of pleasure shot up my spine even before Xan did anything. I flicked my tongue along Jirrin’s cock, which caused him to moan. Looking up at him, I saw his eyes glazed with serious fucking lust. Me -- I was doing that.
Xan dug his nails into my shoulders and pushed inside me. I almost cried out in pain, but I didn’t because my lips were around Jirrin. It didn’t seem like Xan had used any lube. And he wasn’t showing any mercy, either, fucking pounding me right from the start.
“You like that, don’t you?” Xan growled. “I own you now.”
He totally fucking did, thrusting like he wanted to break me.
Jirrin moaned again and came in my mouth. I swallowed everything, feeling a smile grow on my face at how much he obviously enjoyed himself. He slipped out of me moments later and let go of my head. I looked up at him; Jirrin had a gorgeous satisfied expression on his face.
Xan’s thrusting made my whole fucking body flush with pleasure. He hit me just right. The tension was becoming almost too fucking much. I reached for myself, but Jirrin grabbed both my hands.
“You don’t get to do that,” he said.
I whimpered but didn’t try to fight him. I had no ability to fight him, anyway; Xan’s thrusting had rendered me incapable of doing much more than gasping and moaning like I were fucking possessed or something.
With how Xan kept thrusting, I thought I might not even need to touch myself.
I didn’t.
One more thrust, and Xan sent me over the edge. I screamed with the amazing fucking pleasure of it. A few thrusts later, and Xan came, too. I heard him moan when he did, and he dug his nails extra hard into my shoulders.
He slid out of me and leaned over to whisper, “You liked that, didn’t you? Little slut.”
Though my brain was fucking hazy, I managed, “Yeah.”
I felt Jirrin pull me onto the bed. Xan also got onto the bed, placing me between the two of them.
Jirrin murmured, “That was fun. Maybe next time I can go inside you if Xan feels like sharing again.”
“You don’t want to use him now?” Xan asked.
“I’m good, he said.
I sighed, “I’m the luckiest guy, like, fucking ever.”
Wait, did they say something about a “next time?”
Xan said, “I’m lucky I got to play with someone as pretty as you, and I know you’re going to say you’re not pretty. Don’t you dare, Dylan. Just -- don’t try that now.”
How did he fucking know I was gonna protest? Do Zimaran psychic powers extend to mind reading? Can you tell me, author? You won’t fucking tell me? Fine, screw you.
I asked, “Did you say something about a ‘next time’ or did I hear wrong?”
Damn, did I hope there would be a next time.
Xan placed an arm around my shoulders. “There will be a next time, if you want it. I don’t even have to take the mind control off. You can go about daily life with it on.”
“Fucking seriously?”
Jirrin nodded. “It’s true.”
“That’s awesome,” I said. “I would like to, y’know, do this again sometime. I had an amazing time.”
“Me too,” Xan murmured.
Damn, did I ever want to do this again. I floated on a cloud of “I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am.” Unfortunately, worry did start pooling somewhere in the back of my brain. Did someone as impressive as Xan really want me more than once? It didn’t seem possible, but I sure fucking hoped it was.
---------
written for 500themes prompt #174 - "Spellbound"
next chapter
---------
I had been pretending to study for hours and needed some fucking coffee if I wanted to have the remotest chance of achieving actual productivity.
My study partner, Jamie, raised an eyebrow. “And where do you think you’re going, Dylan? We have work to do.”
I said, “I need some coffee.”
She muttered, “Haven’t you had enough coffee? You’ve got to have more coffee than blood in your veins by now, and it’s not making you learn anything.”
I got up from the table. “Maybe I need to get rid of the parts that are still blood.”
Jamie shook her head. “Never mind. I think I’m just gonna study on my own, okay?”
Was I that fucking useless? Hey, don’t look at me like that. I am not that useless, author. Yeah, I know I’m fictional. Does that surprise you?
Anyway, I gathered my books and stuffed them in my backpack, since Jamie evidently didn’t want to help me study. I half-thought her decision to stop helping was part of a conspiracy to make her grades better relative to mine for the curve. Damn, I was getting fucking paranoid. The clear solution? Coffee. Coffee totally helped with paranoia, right?
Jamie would be fucking fine, anyway. She was a smart girl who never seemed to have academic trouble, unlike me who got along with the French language as a well as politicians got along with telling the truth.
Sighing, I exited the library, trying to ignore the students who seemed to have no trouble studying at their desks. Maybe they were all secretly playing Scaredy Cats on their smartphones. It wasn’t like I had never done that. I’m sure you have, too. Don’t lie to me.
Unfortunately, the line for the coffee shop outside the library was fucking long. SynthBrew, as it was called, was a popular destination for overtired and overworked college students. They even called the coffee itself SynthBrew as part of a gimmick. Some author who attended this school once upon a time called coffee SynthBrew in her stories. Whatever, it had fucking caffeine in it either way without being an ass-flavored energy drink.
“This line is terribly long, isn’t it?” a voice behind me murmured.
Wait, were they talking to me? Did this guy want to make fucking small talk? I didn’t have enough available neurons for small talk. I wondered what would come out of my mouth. Trying to collect my thoughts enough to answer, I turned my head around. And my heart fucking skipped a beat.
The guy wasn’t human.
He was Zimaran, part of a recently-discovered race of inhumanly beautiful humanoid beings with metallic eyes and, more importantly, fucking mind control powers. This particular Zimaran had to be six feet tall, with deeply tanned skin, ridiculously shiny black hair and bronze eyes. I couldn’t help staring, which would do wonders for the allegedly shaky relationship between our two planets.
At least I was resistant to Zimaran psychic abilities, which were supposed to induce helpless lust on their targets. Some humans couldn’t be influenced, and I had to be one of those.
“Are you okay?” the Zimaran asked.
Right. Small talk. We were supposed to be having it. “I’m -- I’m fine. Just -- what is a Zimaran doing in a human college coffee shop?”
Not exactly smooth there.
He said, “I happen to like SynthBrew. Is that so odd?”
“Yeah, it kinda fucking is. Most people who come here aren’t so impossibly pretty,” I blurted out.
If what I said before wasn’t smooth, that line was fucking sandpaper. Great going, self.
He smiled. “I could say the same thing about you. You’re not exactly average in terms of physical appearance.”
Wait, what?
“Did you just call me pretty?” I stammered.
“I did. I hope that doesn’t bother you,” he murmured.
I said, “So do you have a name, guy who thinks I’m pretty for some reason?”
His lips thinned, ever so slightly. “I’m Xan, and the reason I think you’re pretty is because you are.” Xan’s voice suggested I shouldn’t fucking argue.
Xan? That name sounded fucking familiar. Probably deja vu from not having enough caffeine in my system.
Looking at Xan made my already-limited brain capacity even more limited. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear he was using his mind control powers on me to make me act stupid.
“Did you know I’m resistant to Zimaran mind control?” I said.
Surely, that was ideal fuckin small talk.
Xan raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you now? You’ve had someone try to control you before? You’re pretty enough, I would be surprised if someone had tried.”
Why did he insist I was pretty? And I just knew, okay? What, why don’t you believe me, author? You can totally “just know,” right? Obviously you can. Obviously.
I felt my face heat up. Blushing, awesome. “Okay, nobody’s tried it on me, technically. But I just know. There’s no reason I wouldn’t be resistant.”
He raised his eyebrow higher. “No reason? But you have no reason to know that you would be resistant.”
Good fucking point.
“I just am resistant,” I said.
His eyes sparkled. “Care to prove your resistance? And I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Dylan, and what?”
“I have a challenge for you, Dylan. I’ll try to put the mind control on you, just to see if you’re resistant to it. Then, if it does work on you, I’ll take it off. I have no desire to take someone without his consent; I simply want to see if your assurance is correct,” Xan murmured.
He smirked, clearly daring me to back up my words. While the idea of mind control made me kinda fucking nervous, I wasn’t going to back down from those beautiful twinkling eyes.
I looked him directly in the eye. “Go ahead, I dare you.”
Xan looked back at me.
What the fuck?
Suddenly, I could hardly fucking stand. A -- a feeling had come over me. Something strange had grabbed my mind.
No fucking way.
The power -- it worked on me. How was that even possible? My legs quivered with the feeling, which was -- it felt kind of awesome. Weird as fuck, but awesome. I should have resented Xan for being able to get into my mind like that, but I couldn’t. Instead, I smiled at him.
Finally, the line for SynthBrew moved forward. Unfortunately, I failed at walking. When I took a step forward, I stumbled, landing in Xan’s arms.
He grabbed me. “I see you’re not as resistant as you liked to think.”
Being my author, you knew that, didn’t you? Damn you. I would be madder at you, but it felt really cool so I’m not pissed.
The feeling went away. Xan let me go. Without his mind control on me, I could stand just fine, but I felt oddly empty.
“I guess I’m not so fucking resistant,” I breathed.
Xan smiled. “I had a feeling you might not be.”
My cheeks flushed, and I struggled with some kind of fucking emotion I couldn’t immediately identity. Was that -- disappointment?
It was.
“I -- I kinda liked it,” I mumbled. “And I -- I wouldn’t be, like, averse to you putting it back on. Except why would you do that?”
What the fuck was I even saying?
Xan made an odd, unreadable face. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because,” I muttered.
“That’s not an answer,” he said.
No, it wasn’t.
My face felt fucking hot. “So, um, would you want to, you know? Because, um, between mind control and no mind control, um -- I prefer the mind control.”
Maybe my fucking social skills were why I couldn’t ever get a date. What was I doing trying to proposition a gorgeous man from a whole other planet? Talk about out of my league!
He put an arm around my waist. I startled slightly. Was Xan really going to?
Xan looked right at me. That feeling came back. I would have fallen down if not for the arm around my waist.
“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private?” Xan murmured. “I could take you back to my apartment, if you like.”
I leaned into him. “I would fucking love that.”
He gripped me tighter and lead me away from the line at the coffee shop. I guessed I wouldn’t be getting any SynthBrew today, but I didn’t fucking care because I would be getting something even tastier.
What? You don’t like the “tasty” descriptor? Too fucking bad.
When we got to the library parking lot, my jaw dropped to the center of the Earth because damn.
“You car looks like a spaceship,” I breathed.
Xan chuckled. “It’s a custom model. My dads insisted I drive something nice, even on Earth.”
“Dads?”
He said, “I have two. No moms.”
“That’s cool,” I murmured.
My shock at the sheer fucking luxuriousness of the car didn’t stop when I got inside. It was upholstered in the softest black leather I had ever encountered. Ever. It was fit for royalty, seriously.
I lay my hand on the divider between the two front seats, and Xan put his hand on top of mine. He gave it a squeeze. “You’re sure about this?”
“Absolutely, Xan. I totally fucking want you,” I said.
He squeezed my hand again. “Usually humans aren’t so -- enthusiastic about being mind controlled. Enough of them find it rather odd and actually break the control themselves. Some like it, but it’s not like it is on Zimara.”
I smiled. “Odd? Sure it’s odd, but but it’s the kind of odd that makes me want to fuck you.”
Xan laughed. “So everything is good then. It’s not often I get to bring home someone so pretty.”
“I’m not-”
He gripped my hand harder than was strictly necessary. “I’m not going to take you if you keep trying to insist you’re not pretty when you most certainly are.”
That shut me up.
Soon enough, we arrived at the fucking future. Yeah, I know Xan couldn’t actually time travel. Still, his apartment building looked like something out of a science fiction movie, all sparkling and crystalline. It looked like a giant fucking crystal, seriously. So I’m gonna say it was the fucking future, okay?
To make the building even less earthly, rainbow lights lit it up, cycling through all the colors. It didn’t feel real. Getting to have a hot alien partner didn’t feel real, either. To complete the “this is not fucking happening” motif, the doormen, dressed in very space age black and silver uniforms, bowed to Xan and didn’t get up until he made a weird gesture at them.
“What the fuck?” I asked when we were out of earshot.
“They’re Zimaran,” he muttered. “The whole building is.”
That didn’t really explain anything. “So the bowing is some Zimaran custom?”
“You could say that,” he mumbled.
I got the weirdest feeling he didn‘t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to do anything to reduce my chances of getting some.
Xan lead me by the hand to a special elevator that went directly to the penthouse.
“You live in the fucking penthouse?” I breathed. “Just what do your dads do for a living?”
Was he blushing? “Lucrative government work.”
“Your government provides jobs that pay this well?” I asked. I wondered if he meant they did military contracting or some other similarly sketchy but wealth-generating shit.
Xan didn’t answer as the elevator door opened. The ridiculous elevator had its own black leather couch. Zimarans seemed to like their black leather-type stuff. Their leather was so nice, I wondered if it were some magic space age fabric. And the Zimarans loved their shiny silver shit. And their rainbow lights, which were everywhere. I definitely wasn’t in human territory anymore.
We sat down on the couch, and Xan -- he wasted no fucking time. He kissed me on the lips, roughly, and pushed me all the way down onto the couch. I gasped in surprise. Damn, that felt good. He slid his hand under my shirt; I shivered at his touch before wrapping my arms around him, sliding one hand under his shirt.
Already, I felt a fucking ache between my legs. The mind control made everything -- it made things somehow different. And much fucking sexier than normal.
I moaned against Xan’s lips when he pressed his tongue into my mouth. I met his tongue with my own. He sure knew how to use his.
The elevator stopped before we could do anything more. I actually fucking whined when Xan got off me.
He smirked. “Eager, aren’t you? Don’t worry, the break is only temporary.”
Then, he took my hand and lead me out of the elevator. Xan’s eyes sparkled, and my heart fucking skipped a beat. Damn, he was fucking gorgeous.
The door to his apartment? Less fucking gorgeous and more just plain scary. It had a retina scanner and a touchpad. Xan had to enter some code and tell it he had a guest over. Never did he let go of my hand while he did any of the weird security measures.
He looked at me sheepishly. “My parents believe in security.”
“Evidently,” I muttered.
We entered the apartment. It looked like an even fancier version of his fucking car, with silver and black leather everything, plus rainbow lights like whoa. It felt so, well, alien. The gigantic television on the wall in the entertainment room grounded me, because even aliens liked to show off their wealth with fancy fucking electronics.
I heard the strangest noise. Like -- like someone was speaking in an alien language. Like Xan had someone in his apartment.
And he did. Another impossibly good looking alien guy appeared. We sort of stared at each other. He was a little shorter than Xan, with dark brown skin, black hair, a muscular body and fucking violet eyes. Violet, like something out of bad fanfiction.
I would worry he’s a fucking Mary Sue with those eyes, but I’m the main character, right? Doesn’t that mean he’s less likely to be a Sue? Or Marty Stu, since he’s a guy? And all Zimarans have weird eyes, so yeah.
The new guy smirked. “Guess I should speak English now. So you brought home a human? He’s cute. Too bad his species means we can’t share your lover this time. Don’t think Earthlings go for that.”
“Share?” Did that mean what I thought it meant?
“Jirrin, now is not the time,” Xan muttered. “I didn’t think you would still be here.”
“We Zimarans like to share our lovers,” he said.
“You can do that with the mind control?” I asked.
“You’re curious, aren’t you? Oh yeah, a Receiver of the powers can be controlled by multiple people. The Giver of the mind control decides who their Receiver sleeps with, granting permission for another Giver to share in the control.” Jirrin’s violet eyes twinkled.
Xan shifted on his feet. He seemed kind of uncomfortable, though I didn’t think he had any reason to be.
Jirrin gave me a look. “So, are you interested in being shared?”
I said, “Based on what you told me, I don’t think it’s up to me if I’m interested or not. Doesn’t Xan get to decide that? I have no moral problem being shared or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
Both Xan and Jirrin gave me odd looks. Jirrin said, “Xan, you’ve sure got yourself an interesting little human plaything here. Never met one who wanted to give up control that much.”
Xan murmured, “You’re sure about this, Dylan?”
I gave his hand a squeeze. “Completely. It’s, like, sexy to -- to let you decide and stuff.”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me quickly before letting me go again. “If that’s how you feel, then I’m more than happy to share you.”
I said, “So, what do you want me to do?”
Jirrin growled, “Give him to me” and looked me in the eye.
I felt something shift in my brain, like with Xan.
Whoa, that was fucking trippy.
“There are two people in my brain!” I breathed.
Jirrin murmured, “It worked.”
He pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. He was no fucking time-waster, either. Jirrin slipped a hand under my shirt, causing me to shiver. When he raked his nails along my back, I shivered even harder. I definitely ached between my legs now.
That only got worse when Xan approached and kissed the back of my neck. Jirrin pressed his tongue forward. I accepted it eagerly. My body flushed from standing between the two of them as I kissed Jirrin. I moaned with the fucking awesomeness of it.
I could feel the two of them in my mind, taking it over and making it hard to think, in the best kind of way. I moaned as they grabbed my shirt, pulling it off me. Jirrin stopped kissing me, stepping away. Xan returned to kissing me on the neck, and he ran his hands up and down my chest. I gasped when he bit down, hard.
Xan purred, “You like a little pain, hmm?”
Jirrin murmured, “He does, I can tell. Now, I know what I want to do to him.”
“What -- do you wanna do?” I gasped.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” he said.
He started unbuckling my belt. Was he? Jirrin pulled down my jeans and boxers. I was fucking exposed and already obviously hard. As he knelt before me, I quivered with anticipation. It had -- been a while since I had anyone give me a blowjob.
When he took me in his mouth, I gasped again. It didn’t hurt that Xan bit down on my neck at the same time. Never in my life had I gotten quite this much positive attention.
Xan held me tighter. “Try not to squirm too much. We just might have to tie you up.”
“I -- wouldn’t mind that,” I said.
He laughed. “Of course you wouldn’t.”
Xan raked his nails along my chest as Jirrin worked me. Both of them -- damn, they knew what they were fucking doing. This was fucking incredible. It was incredible enough that I was having trouble standing. My legs wavered as Jirrin brought me ever closer to the edge.
Jirrin suddenly bit down on my cock, causing me to cry out in pain. It just made that fucking ache worse. Now, I really could barely stand. I leaned back into Xan, who was leaning forward in order to hold me.
“You’re -- good at this,” I gasped.
He chuckled as he slid his lips up my dick. At this rate, I wouldn’t last much fucking longer. That ache had reached almost impossible levels, and I kept shivering. I gasped and moaned as I neared the edge.
I cried out as I climaxed, my body tensing and releasing with a burst of pleasure. After that, I really couldn’t fucking stand; my knees buckled, and Xan had to catch me. Jirrin swallowed everything as I slid from his mouth.
Xan murmured, “We wore you out, didn’t we?”
“You did,” I breathed.
Jirrin said, “Why don’t you take off your shoes and socks and step out of those pants? We’ll give you some time to recover, but there’s no reason to put your clothes back on, is there?”
After Xan let go of me, I did as I was told. Even so, it was hard enough to move with the post-clmax brain fog of doom. Xan and Jirriin each took one of my hands and lead me up the fucking stairs to Xan’s bedroom. Yeah, he had a whole second floor, in an apartment.
“Damn, your bedroom is fancy,” I mutter.
And it fucking was. More shiny silver and black leather. This time the bed was a fucking canopy with black gauze hangings. Seriously.
While I stared at the bed as my brain recovered, Jirrin had somehow taken off all his clothes. I couldn’t help staring. Either he worked out a lot or had magic DNA because those muscles.
“You’re ridiculously hot,” I said.
Jirrin smirked. “I know how you can be a good little plaything and show how much you appreciate my looks.” He climbed onto the bed and sat kinda near the edge of it. “I think you know what to do?”
I did, so I bent myself forward and took Jirrin in my mouth, slowly at first. I slid my lips up and down his dick. He rewarded me by gasping with obvious pleasure. I had to be doing something right. Jirrin put his hands on my head, threading his fingers through my hair. He pulled on my hair to make my change my pace. As he did that, I felt the ache between my legs return.
Xan grabbed my shoulders. He leaned over me and whispered, “Are you recovered enough for me to fuck you?”
With my mouth around Jirrin’s cock, I couldn’t exactly tell him I was, so, of all things, I gave him a thumbs-up. Maybe it was the mind control, but I kind of didn’t want him to ask first.
I felt Xan spread my legs, so I grasped the sheets in anticipation as I continued to work Jirrin. Shivers of pleasure shot up my spine even before Xan did anything. I flicked my tongue along Jirrin’s cock, which caused him to moan. Looking up at him, I saw his eyes glazed with serious fucking lust. Me -- I was doing that.
Xan dug his nails into my shoulders and pushed inside me. I almost cried out in pain, but I didn’t because my lips were around Jirrin. It didn’t seem like Xan had used any lube. And he wasn’t showing any mercy, either, fucking pounding me right from the start.
“You like that, don’t you?” Xan growled. “I own you now.”
He totally fucking did, thrusting like he wanted to break me.
Jirrin moaned again and came in my mouth. I swallowed everything, feeling a smile grow on my face at how much he obviously enjoyed himself. He slipped out of me moments later and let go of my head. I looked up at him; Jirrin had a gorgeous satisfied expression on his face.
Xan’s thrusting made my whole fucking body flush with pleasure. He hit me just right. The tension was becoming almost too fucking much. I reached for myself, but Jirrin grabbed both my hands.
“You don’t get to do that,” he said.
I whimpered but didn’t try to fight him. I had no ability to fight him, anyway; Xan’s thrusting had rendered me incapable of doing much more than gasping and moaning like I were fucking possessed or something.
With how Xan kept thrusting, I thought I might not even need to touch myself.
I didn’t.
One more thrust, and Xan sent me over the edge. I screamed with the amazing fucking pleasure of it. A few thrusts later, and Xan came, too. I heard him moan when he did, and he dug his nails extra hard into my shoulders.
He slid out of me and leaned over to whisper, “You liked that, didn’t you? Little slut.”
Though my brain was fucking hazy, I managed, “Yeah.”
I felt Jirrin pull me onto the bed. Xan also got onto the bed, placing me between the two of them.
Jirrin murmured, “That was fun. Maybe next time I can go inside you if Xan feels like sharing again.”
“You don’t want to use him now?” Xan asked.
“I’m good, he said.
I sighed, “I’m the luckiest guy, like, fucking ever.”
Wait, did they say something about a “next time?”
Xan said, “I’m lucky I got to play with someone as pretty as you, and I know you’re going to say you’re not pretty. Don’t you dare, Dylan. Just -- don’t try that now.”
How did he fucking know I was gonna protest? Do Zimaran psychic powers extend to mind reading? Can you tell me, author? You won’t fucking tell me? Fine, screw you.
I asked, “Did you say something about a ‘next time’ or did I hear wrong?”
Damn, did I hope there would be a next time.
Xan placed an arm around my shoulders. “There will be a next time, if you want it. I don’t even have to take the mind control off. You can go about daily life with it on.”
“Fucking seriously?”
Jirrin nodded. “It’s true.”
“That’s awesome,” I said. “I would like to, y’know, do this again sometime. I had an amazing time.”
“Me too,” Xan murmured.
Damn, did I ever want to do this again. I floated on a cloud of “I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am.” Unfortunately, worry did start pooling somewhere in the back of my brain. Did someone as impressive as Xan really want me more than once? It didn’t seem possible, but I sure fucking hoped it was.
---------
written for 500themes prompt #174 - "Spellbound"
next chapter