Caleb

Caleb 35 - Maharishi Guptal Pah

by Pastmaster

Tags: #cw:incest #cw:noncon #f/f #f/m #m/m #mind_control #sub:female #sub:male #asexual #asexual_characters

Author note:

Once again, my thanks go to my Dr Mark- whose editorial expertise makes sense of my nonsense.

Please don’t forget to rate the story, and leaving a comment gets you extra brownie points.

PM

Caleb 35 – Maharishi Guptal-Pah

We arrived back at the house just after ten. We’d stopped off at a restaurant and had dinner, which had delayed us considerably. We’d been fortunate to have gotten a table.

Louise had insisted on taking the check since she had just come into quite a lot of money. It had been my idea to stop, so I argued the point for about ten seconds before relenting.

My phone chimed just before we got home. It was from Clarissa, Fiona’s mother.

_I can see why you have four fiancées, Thank you.

I grinned.

“Who was that?” asked Amanda. I showed her the text.

“Fiona’s mom just got her first reward,” I said.

Despite getting some not-so-subtle hints from Louise, I decided to go to sleep. I was truly tired, but I was also ready to have some healthy apart time from the source of so much recent drama. Monday was going to be another long day for me.

My week started in the dojo. Kevin began to teach me Aikido. In addition to being a fourth dan in karate, he held black belts in Judo, Krav Maga, and Aikido. I got the feeling from his speech and his manner that he had been in the military, although he never spoke about it. I thought that one time, when I’d entered the changing room as he’d been getting changed, I’d caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his arm. It had looked very similar to the one that Dean had, and I wondered if Kevin had been a marine too.

I attended one class - not ethics, as I didn’t have it that day - and after lunch went to look at the room that Hoss said he had ready for me. Mary had booked his friend in for the first of his sessions that afternoon, and I wanted to get a lay of the land before that. It was as good as it could be. There was no window, but despite that the room wasn’t stuffy. It was clear of all junk, and had a table and three office-style chairs in it. The seats weren’t as comfortable as they might have been, but I wasn’t going to spring for better ones.

After I had my consultation with Hoss’s friend, I went home and began dinner. I had my meeting with Jeevan at seven, so I needed to eat earlier than usual. The girls didn’t complain about eating early, and at six thirty I left to go and find the address that Jeevan had texted me. When I arrived, I found it to be a church hall. I didn’t see Jeevan; I saw the Maharishi Guptal Pah, in all his finery. He was standing at the front of the hall, directing people.

A large man at the door was about to deny me entry, but Jeevan spotted me, hurried over, and grabbed my arm.

“Gregory, this is Caleb,” he said to the ‘bouncer.’ “Caleb, this is Gregory. He minds the door and provides security at my events.”

We shook hands, and then Jeevan and I were away. He drew me to the front of the hall, and we sat on two of the seats in the front row.

“I run one of these events a few times every month,” he said. “We move around some, but they are usually within an hour’s drive of where I live.”

“And you perform ‘miracles?’” I asked.

He laughed. “I put on a show. All the people who I call up to the stage are plants. There are a rotating cast of about twenty - all volunteers. I will call four or five up this evening. They will have obvious afflictions, and I will heal them.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“Almost always,” he said, “there are people in the audience who do need healing. They come to see whether what they are hearing about is true. My fakery is so obvious that they leave disappointed - only what they don’t realize is that those I can help leave healed. They never leave their seat in the audience, and they never interact with me. Sometimes there is nobody in the audience, and it has been a waste of time as far as healing is concerned, but it furthers the myth. People who are desperate will come to see at least, or get dragged along by one of their more gullible friends – someone who is fooled even by such a sham as I perform.

“There are some that come that do not even realize that they are unwell. They may be healed without ever knowing they were sick.”

I chose not to ask about consent in that case. I hoped that would become apparent as we went.

“You charge entry?” I asked.

“A pittance,” he said. “Just enough to cover the hire of the hall. Five dollars per head.”

“So, what do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Tonight,” he said, “observe. I want you to sit over there.” He indicated a seat in the back row.

“I will ‘perform,’” he continued, “and if anyone needs Healing, I will deal with it. You will watch, and I will show you how to detect illness, diagnose, and hopefully Heal.”

At about seven thirty, the hall started to fill up, and it filled quickly. I realized that there must have been a queue outside, because people were streaming in. Jeevan had disappeared off ‘stage’ and was waiting in the wings.

At exactly eight o’clock the lights in the hall went out, the only illumination coming from the stage. There was silence, an air of expectation, and suddenly, with a crash of cymbals that made everyone jump, Jeevan appeared on the stage.

He began his routine, and I had to admit that he was good. In no time at all he had the crowd, including me, on the edge of our seats.  He asked if anyone in the hall wanted to be healed, and several people yelled and raised their hands. Some, I could tell almost without my powers, were plants. I knew who would be called up. There were a few people whom I could tell were not plants, and were desperate. My heart went out to them. I hoped Jeevan would be able to help.

“So, you have noticed them already?” sent Jeevan to me, all the while continuing his patter. His ability to multitask was impressive.

“Yes,” I said. “There are three who I believe are genuinely sick people, all begging to be noticed.”

“One of them,” he sent back, “the lady in the third row in the red coat, comes to all my meetings. She is convinced that I am a genuine healer, and that I can help her. Week after week she goes away disappointed, but next time, there she is again. She has pancreatic cancer; I do not have the power to help her, but you do. All I can do is ease her pain slightly, which I do at each meeting. The fact she goes away feeling slightly better is what makes her return each time. You are not yet ready to take on that healing, but I think that you soon will be - hopefully before it is too late for her. The first person I want to look at tonight doesn’t even know he is unwell. He has what is called an aneurysm, which is a weakness in an artery. These can happen anywhere, but his is in his belly. If that artery bursts, then he will bleed to death in minutes without a drop of blood being seen.”

“How do you gain consent,” I asked, “if he doesn’t even know he is sick?”

“Like this.”

“Some of you here,” he announced loudly, “require healing, and do not even realize it. Your bodies cry out to me for help, yet your minds are unaware. I ask you: do you want me to help you?”

There was a murmur from the audience. Some people said nothing; others said yes.

He then picked a few people out from the crowd. “You, madam,” he said to one of his plants. “If I were to sense sickness in your body, would you want me to heal you?”

“Yes please, Maharishi!” she shouted loudly.  He went to another plant. “And you sir, would you want me to heal you?”

“Yes, please Maharishi!” yelled the man.

The crowd was getting worked up. He went to several more people, some plants, others not. The response was becoming expected and rote. He eventually called on the man he had pointed out.

“You, sir,” he said. “If your body cried out to me for help, would you want me to heed that call?”

Everyone in the hall looked at him. I watched his thoughts. He felt like he could hardly say ‘no thanks;’ all eyes were on him, and a rhythm had been established. He wasn’t exactly signing anything. He went with the flow.

“Yes please, Maharishi” he said. Jeevan moved on, and the man sighed in relief.

“Hardly informed consent,” I said with a hint of amusement in my tone.

“Good enough for my conscience,” he replied. “You will have to determine your own threshold. Now watch.”

He called the first of the plants up onto the stage. He got them to describe their problems, their pain and how their lives were affected. All the time that was going on, I watched his mind; he assessing the weakness in the blood vessel wall and determining what to do about it.

He put his hands on the head of the plant on the stage and pretended to be concentrating.

Well, not exactly pretended; he was concentrating, but not on the plant. He was concentrating on Healing the man. I saw exactly what he did to cause the blood vessel to become strong again, and also to remove the residual clots where the damage had been; he didn’t want them flowing through the man’s bloodstream and causing a problem elsewhere. By the time he had released the plant, who declared herself healed with a great show of gratitude and tears, the man with the aneurysm had a cure in place. His body would follow Jeevan’s directions over the next week or so and it would be like his aneurysm had never been. The man himself knew nothing about it.

Sweat poured off Jeevan, and he showed me his power bar, which was almost a third depleted.

“I have enough for one more tonight,” he sent. “That took more than I intended, but it was necessary.”

“Are you sure you have enough?” I asked, suddenly worried for him.

“There is a young girl at the back,” he sent, “two seats from you. She had a miscarriage, and had to have a routine procedure to remove the remains. A ‘D and C,’ I believe they call it. The surgeon was inept and damaged her, so now she has scarring and can no longer have children. She has tried every avenue open to her and has come here in desperation. I have seen her several times, and tonight I am going to try and help her.”

He called another ‘plant’ to the stage and began to go through his routine again, all the time focusing most of his attention on the girl near me.

The girl was young - maybe her mid-twenties. She had been devastated to lose the baby, and when she had been told that she could no longer have children, she had had serious thoughts about taking her own life. It was her mother who had kept her alive, and had nursed her back to an approximation of mental health. Her then-boyfriend, although supportive at first, couldn’t understand why she couldn’t ‘get over it.’ They had separated three months after she’d miscarried.

She had attended four of Jeevan’s meetings thus far, desperate to believe that there was hope for her, but each time, she’d seen through his sham healings.  She had prayed to see something that would give her a glimmer of hope, but that night, like every other night, she had seen nothing. She was despondent, and she wasn’t planning on returning.

On stage, Jeevan had taken his plant’s head in his hands and was beginning their healing. In truth, all his concentration was on the young girl.

I watched how he made the scar tissue die and slough away, opening up the tubes that would allow her eggs free passage to her uterus. I watched how he cleared away the damaged uterine wall, and encouraged the cells there to divide and replenish those that had been lost. When he finished, her reproductive system was clear of scarring. Within three or four days, it would be back to being completely normal, and she would be able to bear children. She would bleed like she was having a period. He planted the thought that she was due, and that she would think it to be heavier than usual so that she would go and see her ob/gyn just to be safe. She would insist on a scan of her uterus, and they would find that everything was perfectly normal.

What she wouldn’t do would be to link it in any way to Jeevan’s meetings. Since she’d never joined him on the stage, and was already skeptical of his entire operation, the Compulsion was easy to weave into her mind. As far as she’d be concerned, she had prayed, and those prayers had been answered. ‘Praise be to God’ and all that.

I curled my lip at that, but said nothing. Jeevan was almost on his knees. His plant cavorted around the stage, ‘cured.’ I saw Jeevan’s energy bar. It was completely empty.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“I had just enough left,” he sent, “but I’m done for tonight. I had hoped to do more, but those took everything I had. Can I trouble you to block the pain of that poor lady with pancreatic cancer?”

I remembered that Jeevan had said he had reduced her pain, not stopped it. I did the same.

He spent the next half hour performing yet another fake miracle before wrapping things up. The crowd  left, and I listened in on their parting thoughts. Many were not fooled, and only came for the performance. They thought it amusing. Others were believers and argued their points. The two people who had been healed, without their knowledge, left. One was disappointed and disheartened; the other was ambivalent. He hadn’t even known he was ill. The pins and needles in his legs that had been bothering him for a few days, he had put down to sitting too long on a hard chair. Since it wouldn’t happen again, he would forget all about it.

I sat with Jeevan after the show. He was working his way through a rather large amount of food that Meena had obviously packed for him.

“I feel your disapproval,” he said, smiling at me. “You feel I did not ask for their consent, and so abused my powers, no?”

I smiled back. “And I feel from you that you don’t care. You did good here tonight. You saved one man who didn’t even know he was in danger, and you gave another young girl her life back. I see your point, Jeevan. I just don’t know if I agree with it.

“That ‘consent’ you got from him meant nothing. He had no knowledge of what he was getting into.”

“And those whose consent you get when you do your hypnotherapy?” he asked.

I squirmed a little at that.

“I cannot tell you what to be comfortable with,” he said. “That is between you and your conscience. I can only tell you that I sleep soundly knowing that I have hurt nobody and helped many people. If you wish to be a Healer, then these are decisions you will have to make. You know that you cannot publicly reveal yourself without dire consequences. This has been seen time and time again. Healers have been killed in the past. They were burned as witches; they were tortured and killed as heretics. There are always fanatics that would say that what we do is against God’s will and will take action against us. There are also government agencies that do not wish powers to be revealed. In the western world, they have become our biggest concern.

“To continue to operate, we must do so from the shadows, which means sometimes acting without the knowledge or consent of the patient - just like you did with Callum, and the lady tonight. You saw they were in pain, and you soothed it. Did you ask permission?”

I looked down. I also remembered soothing Nana Babi’s pain without asking - not to mention pulling Ness into an illusion she had no idea about, and reading Keenan’s and Louise’s minds without their permission. My list of transgressions was growing.

“You have to be your own conscience and the patient’s advocate. You have to access information from the patient without their knowledge in order to make a decision. That is a clear violation of their privacy - but in doing so, you will learn what they think. You will know what their answer would have been. You can decide from there what to do.

“I don’t mean to be unkind, bhaiya, but you need to grow up, and accept what you already know. You have powers, and you will use them. So far, you have not been honest with yourself. You hide behind a very cleverly-worded waiver, but is that really informed consent? It was, mainly, a compromise with the FBI. Does the paperwork truly salve your conscience? Or rather, does the knowledge that you are actually helping people?

“They come to me for help,” I argued.

“But if you explained exactly how you help them, how many would accept?” he asked.

I knew some would, but that many wouldn’t. Many would be wary of a scam, even if they couldn’t figure out how I’d manage it. A few who believed, I imagined, would be worried about giving up so much control over their very minds.

“Stop agonizing over such things,” Jeevan said. “Do good, help people, and go to bed with a clear conscience. The FBI have laws about what you can do with criminals; abide by those when you are doing their work. When you are Healing, follow your conscience.

“You have the power and the ability to become a great Healer - to help a great many people. You are so confused about what you should or shouldn’t do that you often ignore your own rules without seeming to realize you are doing so. Outside of the legalities that you must adhere to when under FBI observation, there is a simple question to ask yourself: have you helped, or caused harm? If you can honestly say that in every action with your powers that you have helped more than you caused harm, then that should be enough.

“Go home, bhaiya,” he said, “and if you still want to be a Healer next Monday, I will text you the address. It will be another meeting. If your dilemma regarding consent is too much of a burden, then maybe Healing is not for you.”

I considered his words as I drove home. What he’d said about me ignoring my own rules was true. The few examples that had come to mind during our conversation were but the tip of a rather large iceberg. I was using illusion to buy alcohol while I was still underage. I was pulling chaperones who’d signed no consent forms into illusions so I could get some schoolwork done during my hypnotherapy sessions. Even Jeevan’s maxim made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t helping anybody but myself, and if I tried to counter that I also wasn’t harming anyone, then, logically, I didn’t really care about consent at all – nor about quite a few laws.

By the time I got home, I had resolved nothing except that I needed yet another radical anal craniectomy. The phrase ‘Healer, Heal thyself!’ sprung to mind, but I just didn’t know how.

“How did it go?” asked Jules.

“It was interesting,” I said.

“But?” she pressed.

I explained my issues about consent, and then about all the other stuff I’d been thinking of on the way home.

“You’ve read Asimov, yes?” she asked. I nodded.

“And I’ll bet that when you first read them,” she continued, “the three laws of robotics looked pretty unassailable, right?”

I saw where she was going, but I didn’t interrupt. I deserved a lecture.

“The answer is,” she said, “that there are no cast iron rules that you can hide behind. You have to make a decision and stand by it. And the only person you can be accountable to is yourself. Most of the time nobody will even know that you used your powers. The times you use illusion to buy beer underage, the time you make a cop misread his speed gun when he catches you... you can decide they’re harmless, or you can decide that because they’re abuses of power, they can’t ever truly be.

“Do what you feel is right, in the moment, but know that you will have to live with yourself afterward. I have confidence that you will almost always make the right decision.”

I hugged her. “So do I start calling you Yoda now?”

“Don’t you dare,” she said. “I’m a Trekkie.”

“Kes then?” I asked.

“Nah,” she said. “That was a shit storyline. Kes should never have been written out like that.”

I had to agree, despite the fact that Seven-of-Nine had an amazing ass, which that jumpsuit had done great justice. On the other hand, early Kes, when she’d still been pixie-like, hadn’t been too shabby either.  I also had to admit that Jules was my voice of reason; she was definitely smarter than me.

Next Monday, Gregory recognized me as I arrived. There was already a line outside the hall, which was thirty minutes’ drive in the other direction from my house than the venue from last week. He beckoned me forward. “Go straight in,” he said.

There were some grumbles from those already in line, but he ignored it.

Jeevan was sitting on the edge of the stage. “Welcome bhaiya,” he said smiling. “How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m feeling good.” I replied.

“Excellent,” he said, “because I am going to want you to do something tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Every once in a while, I do a mass healing,” he said. “Now, I only do it when my numbers start to drop. If I didn’t, my particular brand of charlatanism would run out of steam. Every so often I have to do something that keeps people interested.”

“Mass Healing?” I queried.

“Not really Healing,” he said. “What I will be doing is working the room up. What you will be doing is blocking most, but not all, of everyone’s pain.”

I looked at him, puzzled.

“I’ll be doing some Healing while this is going on,” he said, “but consider this: you have been told about some Indian faker.” He smiled at his own play on words. “And have come to see him a few times, but seen nothing of note. Then, all of a sudden, the majority of the audience, you included, find themselves almost pain free. There has to be something to this, right? So, you come back. That gives me more opportunity to Heal those who really need it.”

“So, why not remove all their pain?” I asked. “Why just most?”

“Because if you remove it all, it is almost definitive proof that I am a real Healer. Reducing it, especially when I get them all riled up, can be put down to hysteria, adrenaline - some natural phenomenon. It can be explained away. I want to rekindle belief - nurture hope, not provide proof.”

That kind of made sense, in a warped kind of way.

“Okay then,” I said.

“Start searching them out as they come in,” he said. “You’ll know when to start blocking.”

“How long do I block their pain for?” I asked.

“What?” he asked.

“How long do I block their pain for. Hours, days, what?”

He looked at me strangely. “You can put a time limit on it?” he asked.

He had obviously not noticed that when he’d seen my memories of blocking Jules and Ness’s pain. I nodded.

He shook his head. “Does it make a difference to how much power you use?” he asked.

“It doesn’t seem to,” I said.

“Twelve hours then,” he said. “Let’s give them a decent night’s sleep for a change.”

I watched people coming into the hall, investigating them as they entered. A few of them weren’t unwell or in pain at all. Some had come with relatives, and some were just fascinated by the thought of someone with healing powers. There was one guy who had been at the last meeting too. He was surreptitiously filming proceedings and was making an internet documentary proving that the Maharishi Guptal Pah was a fake and a fraudster. He was frustrated, though - not because  he thought that Jeevan was actually healing people, but with the fact that he couldn’t find out how Jeevan was defrauding anyone. As far as he could tell, the only money that people were parting with was the entry fee, and most of that went to the venue rental. He couldn’t figure out the motivation, and it was eating him up.

He was also grumpy because he had a toothache. I determined to throw a real spanner into his works tonight. I was going to completely remove all of his pain during the mass healing, despite what Jeevan had said.

The show started pretty much like the one the previous week, and after a few minutes Jeevan had invited a plant up on stage.

“There is an older lady, three rows in front of you,” he said. “She has a small malignant lump in her breast. I am going to remove that. Look at her before I begin. Look at her aura. Determine the colors that indicate disease, and look closer at her. Notice how I saw where her problem was.” He sent me his memory of his ‘examination’ of the woman, and I could see what he had seen.

I examined the woman in question. She had only just found out about the lump in a mammogram result she had received a few days ago. She had an appointment to see her oncologist the next week. Her friend had dragged her along to Jeevan’s meeting, but she had no real expectations of any healing. She had decided that she wasn’t even going to raise her hand when Jeevan called for volunteers.

I watched as Jeevan placed his hands on the plant and began to concentrate. I saw him attack and destroy the cancerous cells, and arrange for the remains to be transported away using the body’s own mechanisms. I watched as he protected the kidneys from damage from the sudden onrush of proteins released by the death of the cells. I realized once again that he wasn’t actually doing it in real time, but was setting it up to happen over a period of a few days. When he was done, he showed me his energy bar, and it was almost fully depleted. A single Healing had wiped him out. His plant did the ‘hallelujah’ dance and left the stage healed.

“And now, my friends,” he exclaimed from the stage, “for those of you who I have not managed to help, I am going to at least give you some respite from your pain.”

People sat up and paid attention as he started to work the crowd up. He was masterful at it. I certainly couldn’t work a room in such a way. Once I was Healing on my own, I didn’t think I’d be using a similar shtick.

He gave me a nudge, and I began. The investigator was the first. I blocked his pain completely and locked it off for twelve hours. Then there was an old man who was riddled with arthritis. He had constant chronic pain, and I blocked most of that. I felt really sorry for him, and so I gave him a full week of reduced pain. There was a woman who wasn’t there for healing, but had come with a friend. She, however, had period pains. I blocked those for three days. I went from person to person like so. Everyone who had pain, I blocked most of it, each for a different period of time depending on the pain and how I felt. There were nearly one hundred people in the hall, and nearly all of them had some level of discomfort, even if it was just from sitting on a hard wooden chair for an hour. The man with the prolapsed hemorrhoids got a day’s respite. The girl who had had her nipples pierced just that day got a few hours, and so on.

I checked on my energy bar and found that blocking pain didn’t really have much of a cost. I had gone through almost the entire room and only lost a single graduation. Finally, I was done, and there was nobody I had not looked at. I gave Jeevan a prod, and he stopped his routine.

“Now,” he said. “Examine your pain. Tell me, have I been successful?”

I saw a few people stop and consider, and then smiles broke out on their faces. Even the fraud hunter was looking stunned, realizing that his pain, too, was gone. The room erupted in cheering, led by those planted in the audience.

The session ended soon after. One more plant was ‘healed,’ but Jeevan had no energy to Heal anyone for real, so that was just filling time. Everyone was chattering loudly as they left the hall.

“That was perfect,” he said. “I saw that you gave each person a different pain-free period. I should have suggested that. It will keep people guessing. If they all suddenly got their pain back at exactly the same time, there would be more evidence. You did well. How many of them did you ask for consent? “

I chuckled. “I think you know the answer to that. I stopped their pain; I caused no harm. I am content that what I did was good.”

He embraced me.

“Well done, bhaiya,” he said. “This was an easy one. Others will be more difficult, but you are learning.”

Tuesday morning was Krav Maga training. I enjoyed it immensely. After the rigid discipline of Karate, I found it refreshing and interesting to have so many different styles to draw on.

My ethics lecture was interesting too - not so much the class, but the contest. Since I wasn’t in a bad mood, the arguments I made, I thought, were balanced. For some reason, Dana Reed chose to oppose me each and every time. No matter my position or my argument in support, she would come in with a counter argument that was both reasoned and persuasive. Toward the end of the lesson, it had almost become a moot between her and I.

“That was fun,” I said as we filed out of the lecture theatre together. “But wasn’t your position on the application of First amendment rights completely contrary to the one you took last week?”

She rolled her eyes theatrically. “Can’t a girl change her mind?” she asked. I laughed, conceding the point.

I went into the cafeteria. The girls were already seated, and had grabbed me some lunch, so I got to skip the lines. The place was packed, and after a few minutes, I saw that Dana was looking around for somewhere to sit, tray in hand.

“Dana,” I shouted, and she looked across. I pulled out a chair next to me. She smiled gratefully and headed in our direction.

“Hey,” she said, setting her tray down. “It’s way too busy in here today.”

“Dana,” I said, “this is Mary, Amanda and Jules. Ladies, this is Dana, from my ethics class.”

They nodded and smiled at each other as Dana applied herself to her lunch.

“So,” asked Amanda, “what’s your major?”

“Criminal Justice,” said Dana. “I want to go to law school and become an attorney in the Department of Justice’s Civil Right’s Division.”

“Ah,” said Mary. “Making the world safe, putting all the bad guys away?”

“I want to work against the injustice of the system,” said Dana. “There are too many people who are put away for crimes that they didn’t commit because their basic rights were violated by either cops, lawyers, or judges. I want to stop that.”

“Wouldn’t you be better as a defense attorney then?” I asked.

“I did think about that,” she said. “But as a defense attorney I could only work on behalf of the clients. To really invoke change in a system, you have to work from the inside. At least, that’s my view. How about you guys?”

“I’m going to be one of those lazy and corrupt upholders of the law,” I grinned at her. “FBI, hopefully.”

She looked at me and shook her head. “I’ve no doubt that you will be one of the good guys,” she said. “There are lots of those. Just don’t get beaten down by the system.” She looked across the table at the twins and Jules. “You all going into law enforcement too?” she asked with a grin. “Are you three the new Charlie’s Angels?”

Mary laughed. “No,” she said. “I’m majoring in journalism. Amanda wants to be a teacher.”

“Elementary school,” added Amanda. “I love kids.”

Dana looked at Jules.

“Computer science and electronics,” said Jules. “Double major.”

Dana refocused on her food for a few minutes. I saw her glance at the girls. I could see she was itching to ask, but didn’t quite know how to open the conversation.

“Go on,” I said. “Ask.”

She looked at me. “That obvious?” she asked, a wry smile on her face.

“Kinda,” I said, grinning.

She sighed. “The rumor is that you guys are all in some kind of polyamorous relationship,” she said.

“It might be a rumor,” said Amanda, “But it’s also the truth.”

“The four of you?” Dana asked. Amanda nodded.

“Five,” said Mary. “Ness will be joining us in the summer.”

Dana shook her head. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said. “Not you,” she directed that at me, “but all of you. How do you manage everything? I can’t even keep one person happy. How do you all manage to keep each other happy?”

“Love,” said Jules simply. “We all know that we each love each other.”

Dana looked at her. “You all love each other,” she said quietly, almost to herself. It wasn’t a question, more of an affirmation of a fact. “So, it’s true polyamory, not just polygamy.”

“That’s what makes it work,” said Mary, “and I think you are the first person we didn’t have to explain the difference to.”

Dana smiled weakly. “You are so lucky,” she said. “Most of us struggle to find just one person to love us. You guys have four.”

“Man trouble?” asked Amanda brazenly.

Dana laughed. “If only,” she said. “To have man trouble, you have to have a man.” She looked around theatrically. “D’you see any hanging around me?”

“Pretty girl like you,” said Mary. “Surely you’re fighting them off.”

Dana grimaced. “It’s bit more complicated than that,” she said. She said it in exactly the same way Jules had once used those words. I entered her mind, and saw her truth.

Dana was transgender. Born biologically male, she had always felt out of place in her own body. All her life, her father had forced her into dressing and acting to her biology, and it was only since she had moved away to university and been able to make her own choices that she had started being able to express herself as she’d always wanted to.

Dana must have seen something in my expression.

“What?” she asked.

I floundered for something to say for a second. I had shared the revelation almost instantly with the girls; Jules rescued me.  “You said that,” she said softly, “in the same way that I used to.”

Dana looked at her. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. Her aura was spiking fear and she was getting edgy. Amanda dealt with that. I felt her power flare, and Dana’s fear ebbed away.

“My life was ‘complicated,’” Jules said quietly. Nobody that wasn’t sitting with us would have been able to hear her. “I was alone, and never thought anyone would love me. Then I met these three. They showed me that it didn’t matter to them who I was. They were prepared to offer me friendship. They knew my secret, and they liked me anyway. It was a turning point in my life.”

“Your secret?” asked Dana.

“Everyone has one,” said Jules. “Maybe, when we get to know each other better, we can share ours.”

“But you are all…”

Jules smiled. “We’re not asking you to join Caleb’s ‘harem,’” she said, “if that were even a thing. We’re just holding out our hands, offering friendship. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Whatever it is you are hiding, it doesn’t matter. We don’t care.”

“I’m not…” Dana began, but Jules raised her eyebrow.

“Trust me,” Jules said, “I have been almost exactly where you are right now. Tell me you don’t go back to your room in the dorm and stare at the back of the door, just hoping for someone to knock - perhaps to borrow a book or to ask about an assignment.”

Dana stared at the tray in front of her, the remainder of her food forgotten.

“I don’t…” she began, but stopped.

“It’s okay,” I said quietly to her. “You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. We just want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, or someplace to go where you’re not alone, then we are here for you.”

“But why?” she asked. “What do you want from me?”

“Friendship,” said Mary.

“And Caleb wants you to go easy on him in ethics class,” added Amanda. That broke the mood, and Dana laughed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not agreeing to that.”

“Always worth a try,” I said, grinning.

We finished our lunches, and as Dana got up to leave, I said, “At least take my number. Then if you need anything, you can contact me.”

She took my number, then immediately called it and hung up. “Now you have mine,” she said, blushing a little. “Now I’m not the only girl on campus not to have exchanged phone numbers with a guy.”

I smiled at her.

We didn’t see Dana for the rest of the week. Wednesday night we had at home, and it seemed like Thursday evenings were going to be our time for going to the range. Mary and Amanda had another lesson with Clive while Jules and I competed against each other. Hoss had been right; having your own gun made a difference. Jules was a better shot than me at first, but her arms got tired, and by the end of the session I turned the tide. I knew that that would change as she had more practice and got back into it. My shooting was improving, but I needed more practice too.

Friday night, for a change, we went out. We went bowling, and had a blast.

We were talking about going over dinner and Jules said, “Drop Dana a text; see if she wants to come.”

I looked at her. “You think she will?” I asked.

“I doubt it,” she said. “But being invited will cheer her up.”

_Hi – I know it’s out of the blue, but we and our housemates are going bowling. Want to come?

It took a few minutes for her to reply.

_housemates?

­_Josh and Louise.

_What time?

_We’re heading out in about an hour. Was thinking of booking a lane for nine.

_see you there!

“Well,” I said. “I didn’t think she would go for it.”

“Who?” asked Louise.

“Dana,” I said. “Girl from my ethics class.”

“You trawling for more women?” asked Josh, grinning.

I smiled at him, shaking my head. “Not exactly. She’s an intelligent girl. Louise will be able to talk to her, but you have no chance.”

Louise laughed.

Dana was waiting for us in the bowling alley lobby when we arrived. I made the introductions. She had seen both Josh and Louise around campus - sometimes with me and the girls - but they had never spoken before.

Josh, Louise, and the girls had made me swear, before leaving the house, that I would not use my TK to cheat. I had been mortally offended at the mere suspicion that I would do such a thing.

It was a close thing, but, even without powers, I managed to squeak a victory. I came first, followed, surprisingly, by Jules, then Josh. Dana split Mary and Amanda, and Louise came plumb last. She didn’t care.

“Thanks,” said Dana as we left the bowling alley, “That was fun.”

“You in the dorms?” asked Louise, and Dana nodded.

“Come on,” Louise said. “Their car is full. We’ll drop you. It’s almost on the way, and it’s late for you to be on the streets alone.”

Dana looked at me.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Josh has taken his medication; he’s perfectly safe.”

Josh just shook his head.

“That was fun,” said Dana again as we said goodnight. “Thanks for the invite.”

We said our goodbyes, and the girls and I went back to the house. Josh and Louise arrived back a half hour later.

“She’s a nice girl,” said Louise.

We were all sitting in the living room, enjoying a warm drink before bed.

“You know her family never come to visit?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Poor girl is all alone, so I invited her over for dinner tomorrow,” continued Louise.

“Invited?” asked Josh. “Was that what that was?”

Louise looked at him. He turned to us.

“Bullied into agreeing, more like,” said Josh. “The poor girl hardly stood a chance.”

“What are you cooking then, Louise?” I asked.

She looked at me with a small smile on her face. “I kind of promised that you would cook,” she admitted.

I shook my head wryly. “And what time did you tell her to be here.”

“Six,” she said. I sighed.

“And what other plans did you have for her?” I asked.

Louise looked at me, wide-eyed and innocent. “Plans?” she said. “What do you mean?”

“Come on Lou, this is me you’re talking to,” I replied. “You’ve gotten good at policing your surface thoughts, but that’s not going to stop me if I don’t want it to.”

She frowned. “Well, she’s lonely and frustrated,” she explained. “She’s been here nearly two years and not gotten laid once in that time. I actually think she might be a virgin.”

“And you thought to rectify that?” I asked.

“I thought we might at least make her feel loved,” she said. “She’s so lonely. Couldn’t you see how she lapped up any attention she was given, by any of us? And when you or Josh spoke to her, I’ll bet her pussy was dripping.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” I said to myself.

“Louise, you are going to have to back off a little bit,” said Jules. “She is lonely, yes, but her issues are a little more complicated than just needing to lose her ‘v card.’”

Louise looked at Jules. “What do you mean?”

“Just trust me,” said Jules. “I can’t go into details. But you need to ease up. Be there for her, talk to her, be her friend, but no more. If she wants something from you, let her make the first move - but I very much doubt that she will.”

Louise looked from Jules to me and then to the twins.

“Please, Louise,” I said. “She doesn’t need that kind of attention just now.”

“Did someone hurt her?” Louise asked.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” I said. “Please just leave it for now. If and when she’s ready, she will tell us. Until then, we just need to be her friend.”

“You ‘heard’ something from her, didn’t you?” she asked, and I nodded. “What?”

“It’s not for me to say,” I said. “She would be mortified if she knew that we knew. If we give her enough time, and we’re there for her, then maybe she’ll tell us herself. Then you’ll know.”

“No fair,” Louise grumbled. “I never get to hear any interesting secrets.”

“Actually,” I said. “I have a secret for you, and I think you’ll like this one.”

I let the anticipation build for a moment, then told them about our anti-HOA allies’ outdoor activities.

“YOU’RE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Louise yelled. Josh just stared at me.

“Nope,” I said. “There’s a glory hole cut through our fence, and Anne next door watches me train on the weekend while her husband fucks her from behind. What she really wants is for one of us,” I indicated myself and Josh, “to stick his cock through the hole, so she, and probably Alan, too, can suck it.”

Louise grinned. “You have GOT to do that,” she said to Josh.

He made a face. “But she’s old,” he said. “She has to be like forty!”

Louise stared at him. “Think of all the practice she has had sucking cock,” she said. “I’ll bet she gives a mean blowjob.”

Josh wasn’t convinced. Louise turned to me.

“NO!” I said. “Not happening.”

“But…” she started.

“I am not Compelling Josh to do something he truly does not want to do,” I said.

“It would be hot!” she said.

I looked at Josh and then chuckled. His mouth and his cock were expressing conflicting opinions on the subject.

“I’m going to bed,” I said. “Since you are so horny, you can take him, and deal with that.” I pointed to Josh’s obvious arousal. “Remember what we said about Dana. Friendship and support, nothing more.”

“And the glory hole?” asked Louise.

“Are you going to get up at four in the morning?” I asked. It was her turn to make a face. They were still going out for runs in the morning and were doing well. I was no longer Compelling them, since I was getting all of my Compulsion training doing hypnotherapy. They still did not get up that early.

Josh and Louise didn’t get up the next morning when I got up to train, but Mary and Amanda did.

Jules opened one eye, looked at us all, and grinned sleepily before turning over and snuggling down again. “Have fun,” she murmured as we left the bedroom.

We went out onto the deck. Mary and Amanda started working through their kata while I started on mine. We’d been out there about thirty minutes when I heard a noise from about halfway down the fence – the plug being removed from the fence.  I had never noticed anything like it before. I wondered if one of our neighbors had gotten a little brave, and wanted to risk getting caught.

Soon, I could feel them taking turns at the glory hole. We worked for another hour and then the twins decided to up the ante. I had just finished my kata. They had finished a few minutes before and were standing, watching me.

Amanda approached me and drew me in for a searing kiss. We stood on the deck, our tongues battling, while Amanda began to undress me. She released my mouth so she could pull my T-shirt over my head. When I emerged from my cloth cocoon, Mary took over the kiss while Amanda started working on my shorts.

As she pulled my shorts and boxers down, she dropped to her knees. Turning me slightly to ensure that anyone looking through the gloryhole would have a good view, she engulfed my erection, taking me to the root in a single thrust. I moaned into Mary’s mouth as Amanda began a slow, almost lazy blowjob, pulling back and allowing my cock to ‘pop’ from between her lips, and then taking its full length again..

I continued to kiss Mary as Amanda sped up her movements. Her hand came up to massage my balls and my taint, and I groaned again, knowing that I would not be able to withstand the combined stimulation for very long.

Then she stopped.

She climbed to her feet and swapped places with Mary, who dropped to her knees and continued where Amanda had left off. Before we started to kiss, I pulled Amanda’s shirt over her head, exposing her perfect breasts. Her nipples were standing out like organ stops, the cool air doing almost as much to make the puckered flesh stand rigid as her growing horniness.

I noted that Mary, too, had divested herself of her shirt during the changeover. She licked up and down my cock like it was a popsicle, making it wet and slippery before enveloping it between her magnificent breasts. She used her arms to press them together, and lapped at the tip of my cock each time it emerged from the hot, soft valley she’d created.

Once more I groaned, feeling my belly tighten as Amanda breathed into my ear before moving in for another searing kiss. Her hands were running all over my body, raising gooseflesh wherever she touched.

Mary sped up, bringing me closer and closer to my release, and then I caught the image from Amanda’s mind what they wanted to do. The whole scene was designed to tease our voyeuristic neighbors. I could hear Anne’s thoughts as she watched me fucking Mary’s tits while Alan ploughed her from behind. She hadn’t told him what was going on. She knew that if she did, he would stop fucking her and want to take a turn at the hole. She, however, was heading for a really big orgasm,  and didn’t want to give up any of the stimulation that was driving her towards it. She could feel it building in her belly. She knew it was going to be a good one.

My own orgasm was fast approaching, and I patted Amanda on her ass to let her know that I was almost there. She dropped to her knees beside her sister, and they both sat back on their heels as I stood above them, my cock straining in the cool morning air. If I wanted release, I would have to do it myself.

I wrapped my hand around my cock and looked down at the beauties kneeling before me. Two sets of golden eyes gazed up at me, begging me to give them my cum. They wanted it all over them - all over their faces and all over their tits.

“Go on,” I heard from Anne. “Shoot it on them. Spunk all over those dirty bitches.”

The first shot arced out and almost went straight over Mary’s head, but the tail end of it landed in her hair and on her face and neck. The second spurt hit her directly in the face. She closed her eyes, but didn’t flinch as the wad hit her forehead and trailed down across her closed eye and onto her cheek. I turned slightly, aiming the next shot at Amanda, who sat, eyes closed and mouth open, ready to receive my bounty. The shot hit her square on the nose, dribbling across her top lip and into her open mouth; the subsequent one landed square on her tongue, which she had pushed out. I managed another two spurts, one each for them, which landed on their chins and throats before dripping down onto their tits. Amanda swallowed what was on her tongue and moved to take me in her mouth once more to clean up what was left.

It took a mammoth effort not to laugh as I heard a high-pitched squeak. Anne tried to suppress the noise of her own orgasm, triggered both by Alan’s fucking and the sight of me shooting my cum all over the faces and chests of my gorgeous twins, but she did a very poor job of it.

Both girls stood and kissed, sharing my seed between them, pressing their tits together and spreading my cum over their skin. Then they both kissed me.

We picked up our discarded clothes and went inside to shower.

I so wanted to go over and see Anne and Alan on some pretext, just to see how they would react, but I couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse. After breakfast, I contented myself with washing my truck again, just to piss off the HOA Nazi across the street, whom I saw watching. He took photos, and was making notes. I wondered what that was all about.

It was Alan that made contact with me, which surprised me. Just after ten, there was a knock on our door. When I went to answer it, Alan was standing there, holding a large box of candy.

“Hey Alan,” I said.

“Hi Caleb,” he said. “I just wanted to drop these in for Jules. The cable box is working great now, and since she wouldn’t accept anything from us…” He held out the box.

“Jules?” I shouted.

She trotted to the door from the kitchen where we had been sitting chatting. “Hey Alan, is everything okay?” she asked, not noticing the box at first.

“It’s fantastic,” he said with a smile. “The box never worked better. We got you these.” He proffered the box, and Jules blushed.

“There was no need,” she said. “I enjoy fixing stuff, and I also used it as evidence for my portfolio. If anything, you did me the favor.”

He stood firm, box outstretched, and eventually she gave in.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Anne also said that since you made lunch last Sunday, would you like to come over and have lunch with us tomorrow?”

“That’s hardly fair,” I said. “I cooked for two extra. She would be cooking for four, and besides, our housemates are here.”

“Josh and Louise?” he said, I nodded.

“Bring them too,” he said. “Anne said she would love to see more of you guys.”

I heard a snort from the kitchen. Someone was obviously listening and was making up their own jokes. I checked in with the girls, and Amanda asked Josh and Louise. The consensus was yes.

“Okay then,” I said. “What time do you want us?”

“One again?” he said, and I agreed. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I don’t think they could see more of you than they already have,” said Josh as I walked back into the kitchen.

The girls all laughed. We had told them about our early morning teasing session. Louise had pouted not to have been a part of it, but, as I’d pointed out, she could easily have gotten up and come out with us.

“Are you going to do it again tomorrow?” Josh asked.

I shook my head. “It would be too obvious,” I said. “We’ll leave it for a couple of weeks before our next ‘adventure.’”

“So, did you ask Dana about her diet?” I asked Louise. “Is she vegetarian, vegan or have allergies?”

Louise looked at me blankly.

“I’ll take that as a no then,” I said, sighing. I picked up my phone, sending Dana a text.

_Quick question. Any special diet or food allergies I need to know about?

_Are you sure it’s okay? Louise kind of pushed me into it.

_Absolutely. We’ll be happy to see you. But I don’t want to cook something you can’t or won’t eat. Nor do I want to send you to the ER in anaphylactic shock. So…?

_No allergies. I’ll eat anything as long as it’s not too spicy. You want me to bring anything?

_Just you. Are you okay getting here or do you want picking up?

_I’ll walk, it’s not far.

_Nonsense. Louise will come to get you. She’ll text you when she’s outside.

_I don’t want to be any trouble.

_It’s no trouble. See you later.

“Since it was your idea,” I said to Louise, “You can go pick her up.”

Louise nodded. “Good idea,” she said. “It’s a good thirty-minute walk otherwise.”

“We need to go shopping first though,” I said.

“What are you cooking?” asked Amanda.

“Paella,” I said.

“Pie whatta?” asked Jules.

“It’s a Spanish dish,” I said. “Lots of seafood.”

“Nice,” said Mary.

We went shopping and got everything I needed for the evening meal, plus our weekly list. Using my illusory ID -  while quietly quashing my conscience, which was jumping up and down indignantly -  I bought a couple of bottles of wine to take to Alan and Anne’s the next day.

After doing the shopping, we spent a few hours catching up with class work until it was time for me to start dinner. Louise said she was going to pick Dana up.

“I’ll come along for the ride,” said Jules. I smiled inwardly, knowing that Jules would keep both Louise’s curiosity and naughtiness in check. Josh decided to stay at home.

Dinner was almost ready when Louise returned, with Dana in tow. She came into the house wide-eyed, looking around at the place.

“Wow,” she said. “I didn’t know you were this rich.”

“Rich?” I asked. “What makes you think that?”

“The rent on this place must be astronomical,” she said.

“It’s not too bad,” I said. “And since I sublet to Josh and Louise, that offsets it some.”

She looked at Josh and Louise. I could see she was dying to ask what they were paying in rent, but she was too polite to do so. They didn’t volunteer the information.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” I said. “I hope you like seafood.”

“Love it,” she said. “Is that Paella?”

“You’ve had it before?” I asked.

She nodded. “I went to Europe with my parents, after I graduated high school,” she explained. “We spent a month touring. It was exhausting. We spent four days in Spain. Paella is almost their national dish.”

“This is my take on it,” I said. “It may not be authentic.”

“It smells delicious,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me you could cook?”

“I guess it never came up,” I said. “It’s not like we debate recipes in ethics.”

She laughed. “I guess.” She held out a twelve pack of beer. “I brought this.”

We put her beer in the fridge for later, and we all helped ourselves to ones that were already cold.

After dinner, we all sat in the living room, sipping beer and exchanging childhood stories. Josh had us all in fits of laughter when he told us about his antics as a youngster. He was always in trouble, but to listen to him tell it, it was never his fault, and he’d always managed to charm his way out of it regardless.

Mary and Amanda talked about growing up as identical twins, which gave them opportunities almost no other siblings had. They’d played all the usual tricks on various boyfriends and others who hadn’t known that they were a pair.

Dana’s upbringing had been stricter. Her father was a pastor, and she let slip that he disapproved of her, although she never explained why. I saw Louise ready to ask questions, but I sent her a request not to. She settled down.

“I used to spend a lot of time with my grandfather,” she continued. “He taught me loads of stuff. I would spend hours with him in his workshop. He built furniture as a hobby. He made some beautiful things. He taught me, too, although I was never really any good. He was the first…” she stopped, remembering herself. She was going to say that he had been the first person she had talked to about her feelings, and how she felt she was in the wrong body. He had just held her, and told her that no matter what, he would always love her.

“After he died,” Dana said finally, “I had nobody left I could talk to. Certainly not my parents. Even now I don’t really talk to them. I get emails sometimes from my mother, but my father pretends that I don’t exist. I don’t think he really wanted children. He lives up to his responsibilities - pays his part of my fees and upkeep - but otherwise wants nothing to do with me.”

She visibly shook herself and looked at me, a small, self-conscious smile on her face. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to dampen the mood.”

“Do you have any siblings?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Only child,” she said. “We moved around a lot when I was younger. My father used to fill in for pastors who went on retreat or were out sick. Sometimes we stayed somewhere a few weeks, sometimes a few months. Never more than a year.”

“That must have played havoc with your schoolwork,” said Mary.

“In some ways, yes,” Dana said, “but in others, no. Because I never really got chance to make friends, all I had was schoolwork. I guess it enabled me to concentrate just on school. That was good for my grades. I had to study a lot on my own, though, since sometimes the new school would have already covered stuff I hadn’t, and other times I would be going over stuff I had already done.”

“That sounds tough,” said Amanda.

“It does when I look back on it,” Dana said thoughtfully. “But it was all I knew. I got used to it. I was twelve when my father finally got his own church. Then things settled down.”

“Is that where they are now?” I asked, and she nodded again.

“Are you going back there when you graduate?” asked Jules.

Dana shook her head. “No,” she said. “I already work in the local prosecutor’s office during the holidays. I file stuff and do odd jobs for the lawyers there. Once I graduate, as long as I get the grades, they’ve promised to find something more stable for me.   I’m staying in town.”

Conversation drifted on, and more beer was consumed. I felt Amanda’s power bathing Dana, giving her feelings of security, safety, acceptance and belonging. I didn’t even notice when Dana actually fell asleep.

It was Jules who drew my attention to the sleeping Dana, who had been sitting next to her, and was currently resting her head on Jules’ shoulder as she slept.

I gently lifted the sleeping girl with my TK so that Jules could slip out, and then stretched her out on the sofa, placing a pillow under her head. She didn’t stir. Alcohol and Empathy were a powerful combination, especially for someone who wasn’t used to feeling so relaxed.

We spread a couple of blankets over her and quietly left the room, making our own way to bed. We left the family bathroom light on, and the door open, in case she woke up during the night. It meant she would know where to go if she needed the bathroom and would be able to navigate there reasonably well.

When I got up at four, she had obviously woken at some point, but had gone back to sleep. We hadn’t even removed her shoes when we’d laid her down. I figured she had woken up feeling hot in the night and taken off her shoes and her sweatshirt.  She had kept her jeans on, and was sleeping under only one of the two blankets we had spread over her.

I’d finished my training, showered, and was in the kitchen making breakfast when she finally surfaced. She stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed.

“Morning,” I said. “Sleep well?”

“I didn’t mean to…” she began.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Josh’s stories do that to all of us.”

“Hey!” said Josh, entering the kitchen. “It was your story about growing up that put her to sleep.”

I laughed. “Breakfast?” I offered, indicating the pile of pancakes I had placed on the table next to the large plate of bacon.

“How are you guys not morbidly obese?” asked Dana, gazing wonderingly at the pile of food in the middle of the table.

“We burn a lot of energy having sex all the time,” said Louise as she walked through the door. She then realized what she had said. It was a typical Louise comment, but she had forgotten that she was supposed to be toning things down. I guessed that it was a small mercy that she even had clothes on.

Dana looked from Louise to me. “You?” she started to ask.

“It’s complicated,” said Jules from her position on the opposite side of the table. I saw a hint of a smile on her face. Dana didn’t miss the small barb.

“Hey,” I said, drawing her attention back to me. “It’s only breakfast. Grab a seat.”

Dana chose to go sit next to Jules. For some reason she seemed to feel safer there. I made her nervous, as did Josh. Louise absolutely terrified her. The twins came in and settled down, and we attacked the pile of food. Dana seemed astounded at the amount I was putting away.

“I was up at four this morning,” I explained, “training.”

After breakfast, I asked Dana if she wanted to use the bathroom to get a shower. She declined, saying she had no clean clothes, and she just wanted to get back. I saw that Louise was about to offer to drive her, but I beat her to the punch.

“Come on then,” I said. “I’ll drop you off.”

She looked from me to Louise and then to Jules.

“I’ll come along for the ride,” said Jules.

We got into my truck, and I drove her back to the dorms. She got out, and then walked around to the driver’s window. I had not gotten out.

“Thanks,” she said to me, “for dinner and breakfast.”

“Look at you doing the ‘walk of shame,’” I said, grinning at her. “I hope it doesn’t sully your reputation.”

She smiled at me. “If anything, it will improve it,” she said. “They all think I’m a stuck-up bitch. I’ll see you in class.”

She turned and walked into her dorm building.

“She’s warming to you,” said Jules, looking at me. “I’ll bet you anything you like that within the next couple of weeks she’ll come out - at least to you.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“You really don’t see it do you?” she responded. “You have an effect on people. They are drawn to you, and then, when they get there, they want you. Most of them don’t even want a relationship. They just want sex, from you.

“The girls have it too,” she continued. “I’m guessing it’s an aspect of your Empathy. You need to share, and so you draw people in, and make them willing. You think I became a nymphomaniac almost overnight by accident? I get a triple dose on the regular.”

I looked at her in horror, but she just smiled at me. “I realized it was happening after my first time with you guys,” she said. “I had seen it in action, but it didn’t really affect me in my ‘switched off’ state. But as soon as I was ‘switched on,’ it hit me like a hammer.”

“Jules I…” I began, but she interrupted.

“Don’t,” she said. “Do not apologize or feel in the slightest bit guilty. People make their own choices. Despite your power, you are NOT irresistible unless you actively Compel someone. You are not forcing yourself on anyone. All you are doing is putting it out there, and letting people come to you. When they do, you are treating them with care and respect, giving them a good time, and sending them on their way feeling really good about themselves and about the whole thing.

“Look at Daisy. When did she come kicking down your door? She had a night with us, thoroughly enjoyed herself, and then went on with her life. I have no doubt she remembers it fondly. If she is not involved the next time you guys meet, maybe she’ll want a repeat performance. She has your number. How many calls or texts have you had from her?”

“None,” I said quietly.

“Exactly,” said Jules. “What about Rachel? She has your number too. Has she called? Texted?”

I shook my head.

“It’s not a Compulsion. It’s an attraction. Everyone has it in some measure. You just happen to have it a lot. Being around you and the girls triples the effect, but it still isn’t taking anyone’s free choice away from them. Being around you makes people feel good, Caleb. That translates, in some people’s minds, to sexual attraction. It didn’t in mine, because I’m ace, but I still felt it, and I feel it more when my sex drive is active.”

On the drive home, I mulled over Jules’ thesis. The idea that my Empathy created a kind of ‘animal magnetism’ seemed feasible. The question then became what I should do about it – if I should try to find a way to shut it off. I immediately thought of the jerk that had impregnated Rachel. He hadn’t even realized he’d had powers. His Compulsion had been so weak, and his ‘orders’ so oblique, that I wasn’t even sure he’d really forced any of his conquests to do anything. I even wondered if Alan and Anne had fallen under my – or our – spell.

As we pulled into the garage at home, I decided.

“Fuck it,” I said out loud.

Jules looked at me, a little surprised.

“If it is, as you say, something I have no control over, then I refuse to take responsibility for it,” I told her. “I’m not hiding away on the off chance that people want to have sex with me. If it was some kind of communicable disease, then that would be something else. But I’m not harming anyone, and everyone leaves happy. I’m sick of carrying the guilt for things I didn’t consciously do, or can’t do anything about Fuck it.”

“Fuck it,” echoed Jules, smiling. “I think I’ll get you a T-shirt made up with that on.”

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