“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Ori.” My sister’s voice whined through the bathroom door. “Predators thrive in kink groups of all kinds. I’m afraid you’ll get hurt. Just cancel, please?”

I was too busy spraying and tousling my hair to respond, but the brief moments of silence as she waited for a response were blissful. I looked in the mirror, admiring my handiwork. Almond brown hair, curled perfectly to frame my face, blonde highlights making everything pop perfectly. I gave my head a shake, hair flying for the briefest of moments, but everything fell back into place.

Hairspray really was God’s gift to mankind.

“Oriole! At least respond to me!” Robin’s voice was pleading now. Distraught. It tugged at me on an almost physical level, deep in my chest. I sighed. Living with your sister isn’t exactly glamourous on paper, but I thought Robin might avoid a lot of those pitfalls. We always felt like best friends before family. Only recently did I come across advice to not room with your friends, either.

I should have thought this through more.

I carefully zipped and tied the waist tie on my black parka, savored the warmth and comfort of its faux-fur lining, and opened the door. Robin was already waiting for me, my mirror image, if my mirror added half a foot. Chestnut brown hair, hers tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing an oversized ratty green hoodie with a Nirvana logo on it, a holdover from some boyfriend or another. She had a penchant to wind up with older men who were too malignant to manage a relationship in their prime. Maybe the mirror adds a shitty taste in men, too.

“I’m not going alone, Robin. I’m meeting up with Jules before I even arrive, and I’ll text you every hour or so so you know I’m okay.” She didn’t look impressed. “It’s a women’s only night, anyway.” Less impressed. “Jules says everybody knows everybody, so if anything happens, she can tell you where I am. Listen, Robin, I’m going!”

“You’ve never met Jules, Ori. She’s who I’m worried about, you don’t know who she is or what she’s like, no matter how much time you spend on camera with her.” Her voice was growing softer, concerned, familial, but her words twisted my stomach with embarassment. Jules was the reason she even knew where I was going tonight.

It’s difficult to hide your kinks from your sister when she catches you with your legs spread to a webcam with drool spilling out of your mouth while a girl on the other end fucks your mind silly. She didn’t see the white eyes, at least, or she wouldn’t’ve bought my lie that I was being hypnotised, instead of letting a psychic scramble me senseless from across the internet.

That would make her only more insistent, I imagine. No way in hell am I missing a chance to meet a psychic in person, let alone half a dozen or more who also happen to be kinksters. Jules wasn’t the kind of girl to invite someone to such a group twice. She hated fickle. I couldn’t cancel.

“Deal with it.” My words came out with more venom than intended. “I’ll text you when I get there. Don’t call the police if I take fifteen minutes to respond to you.” I pushed past her and grabbed my bag. I was rushing for the door before she could get another word in, but her legs were longer than mine.

She grabbed my shoulder with one hand, soft. “I’m sorry, Ori. I’m just... Worried. Have fun, okay? Stay safe?” I flinched. She was hurt and concerned, I could hear it. I’m being a jerk.

“I will. I promise.” I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, and she returned the gesture. The feeling was deadened through my parka, but it felt warm and nice. She said what she wanted to more clearly with that hug than she ever could with her voice. I sighed, broke the hug, and left.

* * *

My train ride took less than a half hour according to my phone’s clock, but it felt so much longer. I was supposed to meet Jules at a coffee shop I’d never been to called Chi Roasts. ‘Pronounced ‘shy’’, she insisted over instant messages. She offered to cook for me at her apartment, but Robin was right on some level. I’ve never met Jules in person, despite both of us living in Chicago. I’d been nervous. I still was. A public venue provided a small level of safety as well as providing an outside pressure to prevent me from turning into a babbling wreck in front of her.

My heart pounded harder as I exited the train platform. Thoughts swam through my head, from Jules being unimpressed with how I looked, to her deciding I wasn’t worth spending time with, to her cancelling her invitation to the meetup. You’re being ridiculous, Oriole. She’s been in your head. She knows you deeper than you can comprehend. I tried to calm myself as I avoided people on the sidewalk. I hated walking through Chicago, being so short meant people tended to plow right through you, not to mention the impossibility of finding your way through an unfamiliar area. Jules had insisted we walk, however. More time together. Fewer distractions.

My body tingled at the thought of just what she wanted me to focus on instead.

I’d almost missed the coffee shop, but a tug at the back of my mind, like nails dragging down my scalp, whipped my head towards the door as I passed. Jules had sensed me nearly miss the door. I could almost feel her smile curl on her lips as the thoughts fired. You’re probably reading me right now, huh? I had dismissed her when she’d first told me of her powers, of her ability to sense and read and manipulate minds without speaking a word. I was horny, though, and was having no luck finding someone interesting enough to sink for in a more traditional, hypnotic sense.

For the longest time I thought she’d managed to simply make me forget her inductions.

True to it’s name, Chi Roasts was very easy to miss. A narrow doorway wedged between two other establishments, the shop was small enough to have been built in an alleyway. A pair of baristas worked behind a counter that took up half the floorspace. Dark wood and heady aromas filled the tiny space with a warm, homey atmosphere.

None of that took my focus more than the woman in the back corner. Jules. I’d seen pictures, I’ve looked into her eyes over a camera, but seeing flesh, seeing definition on the curly-haired redhead nearly sent my heart into overdrive. Pale skin, tight curls, and a red leather jacket over a white top. She had painted her lips a pale pink, and she was staring right at me. I gave the most pathetic sheepish wave I could muster before making my way to the counter and ordering a danish. Anything to delay the inevitable.

There were other patrons to weave around, making the few feet between myself and her table take a small eternity to cross, but I got there eventually. She stood, and I could see the way her legs were squeezed by her jeans for the briefest moments before she hugged me. My arms wrapped around her and squeezed, feeling her, flesh and blood and bone and warmth, and for the briefest of moments, nothing else mattered.

I loved Jules. It was so hard not to, we’d only been playing together for a matter of months, she’d pushed me and nurtured me in ways that no one or two night stands could. She knew I loved her, she had to, she was inside my head, but she didn’t reciprocate. She was aloof. She played games, with me, with others. She was universally nurturing and kind and intimate in a way that meant she wouldn’t commit. I was one of many who felt this way, doubtlessly. It hurt, sometimes, but I could accept it at others.

Like now.

“It’s good to see you, Ori.” She smiled and kissed the top of my head. She had told me she was six feet tall, but I hadn’t really believed her. “I could feel you from a mile away. I’m glad you made it.”

I sighed and let go of the hug, taking my seat across from her. Whether she’d chosen to put her back to a wall so she would feel more secure, or because it meant I would have nothing but her to focus on, I would never know. I was too busy smiling, and giggling. “I didn’t think I’d be this nervous when I left the door, but the closer I got...” I smiled, sheepish.

“I’m really very glad you made it.” She had a danish in front of her as well, a tiny plate with a dainty fork and knife set to each side. “I’ve been itching to get my hands on you for a long time.” There was a purr to her voice that sent my spine crawling. I shivered. That’s right. Today isn’t just about meeting Jules. We’re going to a play party.

She’s probably going to fuck you by the night’s end.

I quivered some more and blushed, my stomach flipping in excitement, anticipation, dread. “I guess I’m a tough girl to lure out.” I laughed, my brief respite from my nervous anticipation ending as everything crashed around me again. I laughed some more, giggling, nervous, shivering, as Jules smiled, watching me.

“I can see why. Are you going to be okay?” She had this mixture of amusement and concern in her voice that made my heart flutter. She loved seeing me flustered. “You don’t have to go.“

“I’m going.” I took a deep breath. “I’m just nervous. I’ll survive.” I reached for my fork, cutting a piece of my danish and shoving it in my mouth. The idea of using utensils to eat a pastry was only mildly odd, but if they were provided, it felt gauche to refuse.

“Okay. I just don’t want you becoming a frozen wallflower.” Jules watched me eat, her eyes wandering over my lips, and smiled. “Nor do I want you clinging to me all day.” She took a bite of her own pastry before continuing. “I have plans. They came up suddenly. I am going to be leaving the party early.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be glued to me.” I half lied. I wasn’t expecting that, but I had secretly been hoping. “What are your plans?”

“I need to leave early. A friend came into town suddenly, and I don’t want to miss the chance seeing her. If it were anything I could postpone, I would.” She smiled just a bit more. “I’ll be leaving you in capable hands, though. I don’t want you being thrown to the wolves completely undefended, after all.”

I shivered at the thought. Being left alone and confused at a party filled with dangerous women who could probe into my mind was a hot enough fantasy to dull the disappointment that she’d be leaving. “Does that mean I won’t be waking in your bed then, Miss Jules?” I shifted my voice higher, more coy, childlike, and I could see my teasing strike home in her eyes.

“Unfortunately not.” She purred, leaning across the tiny table. Her brown eyes dialated, just a little, and I could feel her presence touch me. I never understood it, but I could feel her conciousness part my thoughts. It was pleasureable, like a lover’s caress across my most sensitive curves. I held back a whimper, an action she could doubtlessly sense based on the widening of her smile. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t have my fun...“

“Oh, fuck... Jules, coffeeshop!” I whispered, but she only leaned in more. I could feel fingers, or implements, parting the threads of my thoughts, the streams of conciousness that made up my concious and unconcious thoughts, actions. “Jules...” I opened my mouth to moan as her fingers explored well-known territory, but my moan fell short of my throat as I felt a cold, firm clamp somewhere deep inside me. My lips moved, my breath rose, but my voice refused to raise.

“As lovely as that little voice of yours sounds, we are in public” Her voice reverberated through my mind as those psychic fingers caressed. I wanted to gasp, to pant, to whine as those fingers plucked and toyed, but all I could do was grind in my chair. My head felt heavy, full, growing more full still with each passing moment. She smiled, those lovely dialated eyes staring through me, past me, into me.

Fingers toyed more at the ever-changing flows of thought in my mind. Pressure built behind that block, every attempt to moan, to whine, making my head feel more full, more dizzy. I whimpered, pressing back into my chair, my thighs grinding together as more and more pressure built behind that clamp.

Jules only smiled and watched, chuckling just a bit, amused with herself, with me. This was her favorite game, blocking something off and toying with me as the pressure built higher and higher as I lost myself, making no room for thoughts, no room for anything but her ministrations.

Until eventually I sprung a leak.

The pressure hardly subsided as a hot, slick, sticky feeling coated the inside of my skull, my thoughts, spraying from the crack in my proverbial hose to coat everything from the inside. My pussy gushed and soaked through my underwear, everything became swelteringly hot as my skin became coated in sweat, my eyes even began to water, tears leaking down my cheeks.

But more than that, much to my tormentor’s delight, I began to salivate. Saliva coating at the back of my throat, my tongue, and gushing so freely, as if I had swallowed a spoonfull of cinnamon. I tried to swallow, I tried to moan, I tried to do anything but gush and clench around her ever-probing fingers in my mind, but there was nothing to it.

The delight in her eyes as the first drops of spittle slipped over the corner of my lips was palpable. She giggled and cooed, leaning in closer, a thumb rubbing it from my cheek, only for ever more to spill in a flow. It trailed down my cheek, chin, and neck, until the fur inside my parka caught and absorbed it.

“I’m going to make things easier for you, my little Oriole.” I would swoon, were I able to comprehend things fully. Instead, I bucked against my chair, clenched, and flapped my lips as though words or sounds might escape them. “I don’t want tonight to be one you regret because of your worries. So....” I felt another clamp, deep, and after the briefest moments of panic, there was peace.

Peace. Emptiness. I felt good, just as good as before. Her psychic probing was no less pleasureable, but I stopped bucking. Clenching. Trying to scream. I could grind, but an ever-pervading contentment padded through the urges that told me I should. All I could urge myself to do was sit, still, staring into Jules’ ever-deepening eyes, and drool from both sets of lips.

“You’re nervous. You want to have a good time today. I’m going to help my little birdie spread her wings a bit. Just a little bit, just for today.” She smiled, softer, sweeter, as that contentment weaving through the very fiber of my being twisted into orgasmic bliss. I could feel her fingers working, twisting, binding something within me, redirecting...

Time passed, in this state, drool pooling deeper and deeper into my parka, soaking more of my jaw, my cheek, ruining my panties, lost in her eyes as she worked herself through me. There was no fighting her, there never was. It was only by Jules’ good grace and morality that she didn’t simply alter me to her whims when we were playing over the internet, ignore my wishes and my wants and take her own pleasure from me or any other woman, but now, with such a direct connection, barely three feet between us, that truth was even more true.

Eventually, I could think again. I was buzzing, inside, giggling, happy. Glowing with the natural high that always comes after a good fuck. There was a weight lifted from my shoulders, I could breath easier than I could in days, and I hadn’t even realized I was having difficulty. I beamed, relaxed, truely relaxed for the first time since I’d agreed to this.

I grasped at the napkin beside my plate and began cleaning my cheek and neck, cheeks burning as Jules sighed, content with herself as well. “I blocked off your nervousness. Your shame. To a degree.” she smiled. “I want you to be able to relax tonight, and I was sure it’d get in the way if—” I launched into a hug across the table, startling her enough that she let out a small yell. I kissed her cheek and sighed, squeezing just a bit more.

“No, I...” I took a deep breath. “Thank you. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack the moment I got on the train.” I smiled. “Thank you so.” She smiled and finished her pastry. I looked down to mine and sighed. I hated being the slow eater in a pair.

“Grab your food, we need to get going if we’re going.” She smiled, already standing. “I have to introduce you to the woman I’m assigning as your bodyguard before we arrive, hopefully.“

“She’s not meeting us here?” I asked, only mildly confused. I grabbed the pastry, rubbed at my drool-slicked neck with a napkin just a bit more, and followed her as she entered the street. I grabbed her arm and clinged as we entered the crowd, only half so that we wouldn’t be separated. She laughed at my question.

“Oh, no. Not a chance. Cunt would never let me live it down if she caught me in a place like that.” Her smile was infectious as we moved through the crowd.

“Cunt? Is that her name?” I asked, incredulous. I had to force myself to even use the word.

“You can call her Cee, but she’ll respect you less for it.” Jules winked down to me as we turned into a less crowded street. “Just go with Cunt. She’ll like you more for making the effort.” She tugged me along just a bit as I clung to her, before forcing herself to slow down to match my shorter legs. “I’ve been looking forward to introducing you two for a long time.”