I met the man I love on the scariest night of my life.

I don’t want to go into details about exactly what happened, because it might be triggering for anyone who reads it. It’s hard for me to even think about it months later. Let’s just say I was in walking through a parking lot - one that I cross through quite often, because it’s a shortcut on the way from my apartment to my favourite bar - when this guy came up to me, and, um... accosted me.

Brrr. Told you it was hard to say. If you wanna skip ahead, feel free - go to the first set of *** thingies and carry on reading from there. I promise that I won’t mention this stuff much afterwards - or at all, if I can help it.

Anyway, it was a real scary couple of minutes, and I’d never felt more powerless - in a bad way. It’s important that I clarify right off the bat that there is a good kind of powerless, and there’s a very clear difference between that and the bad kind. This was for sure the bad kind. But before anything really awful could happen, I saw, in the distance, another guy entered the parking lot. He stopped in his tracks, staring over at me and my aggressor. I wondered if he would try to intervene, or call for help, or simply pretend he hadn’t seen anything and walk away.

But he didn’t move. He just stood there, his face contorting with rage.

And then, all of a sudden, Guy Number 1 backed off. He let go of me and took like five steps back, wearing an expression of bewilderment - which matched mine, frankly. As I stared at him, he took out a mobile phone, dialled a three-digit number, and held it up to his ear.

After a minute, he spoke. “I-I just tried to rape a girl in a - in a parking lot,” he stammered. “It’s the one between Hamilton’s bar and the Castillo Mexicano restaurant. You should send some cops to arrest me right now.” And he hung up, shoved his phone back in his pocket, and sat down on the ground, cross-legged.

I gawped at him in astonishment. He stared into space, seemingly to have forgotten I was even there. What the fuck had happened to him?

Not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, I backed away from him slowly, getting ready to make a run for it. I figured he could revert to his aggressive state at any moment. It was then that I remembered the other man and looked over to see him still staring across at us - or rather, at Guy 1. Guy 2 nodded with what looked to me like grim satisfaction, turned around, and started to walk away.

He did this, I realised.

“Wait!” I called out, heedless of the potential threat of Guy 1. (Of course, by now I’d realised there was no threat any longer.) I started to run after Guy 2, but he left the parking lot before I could catch up to him, stepping out into the darkness. By the time I reached the exit he’d gone through, there was no sign of him on the street outside.

I wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, I’d just been through a terrifying, traumatic experience. On the other, I’d been saved before it could get much, much worse. On a third hand (gee, wouldn’t it be useful to have three hands?) I hadn’t been able to thank the person whom, I was sure, had saved me - or ask him how he’d done it.

***

A few weeks later I spotted him at the bar.

I’d been avoiding the parking lot since that awful night - I wasn’t sure if Guy 1 actually had been arrested (though he’d still been sitting cross-legged when I left), but I wasn’t willing to tempt fate. But with the encouragement and support of my friends, I hadn’t let the ordeal stop me from living my life, so I’d continued going to the bar - though I tended to get a friend to drive me there, and get an Uber back. It was a two-minute drive, but I figured it worthwhile for now. (Thankfully, I haven’t had to worry about such things lately. Maybe I never will again. But I’m getting ahead of myself.)

Anyway, my friends had left, except for my lifelong bestie Gabby, who stuck with me while I was waiting for my Uber. I glanced absent-mindedly across the bar - and there, at a corner table by himself, nursing a pint of ale, was my saviour. It may have been several weeks, and I may have only seen him from a distance, but his features were lasered into my brain. I was certain it was him. He was a little taller than average, with dark, close-shaved hair, a prominent nose and deep brown eyes. He wore a brown - almost burgundy - leather jacket. I felt fairly sure he was Latino (and I was right), which was a big selling point - I’ve always had a thing for that ethnicity, if my previous romances and unrequited affections were anything to judge by (including my longtime crush on Gabby). But his appearance wasn’t all I found attractive about him.

“Y’know, you don’t have to wait with me,” I told Gabby, as nonchalantly as I could. “I’ll actually be OK on my own tonight.”

She was startled, but seemed cheered by the prospect of me regaining some confidence, which made it a little easier to persuade her to head home. (She lived above the restaurant across the street, which her family ran, so I wasn’t exactly concerned that she’d have any trouble getting home alone.) As soon as she walked out of the bar, I got up from my seat and made my way to the mystery man’s table. He looked up with wary eyes as I approached.

“Hi,” I said breathlessly, and then realised I wasn’t sure what to say next.

After a prolonged pause, he asked, “Can I help you?”

“You’re - you’re that guy,” I stammered. “From that night - from the parking lot.”

His eyes widened, and he looked down at his ale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quietly.

But I’d seen the look of recognition. “It was you,” I said eagerly, sitting down across the table from him. “You saved me.”

“You’ve got me confused with someone else,” he protested, still not meeting my eyes.

“You saved me from that guy! I don’t know how, but I know it was you. You made him back off and turn himself in to the cops.” I paused dramatically before adding, “With mind control.”

At last he looked up, his expression guarded. “That’s absurd,” he said. “Yes, I saw what happened in the parking lot, but I didn’t do anything. That guy backed off and called the cops on himself - I didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m sorry I didn’t help you, I just didn’t know how...”

“You did help me. I know you did. You looked so angry, and then that guy suddenly changed his mind - he acted like a completely different person! You did that!” Realising I was speaking fairly loudly, I looked around to make sure no-one was listening, and then leaned in closer to him and spoke in a more hushed tone. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I owe you at least that much! I just wanted the chance to say thank you. So, uh... thank you! You saved me from... well, I don’t wanna think about what you saved me from, but it would’ve been bad. I can’t thank you enough.”

He sat up straighter, staring piercingly at me. It felt like my persistence and my earnest gratitude was starting to wear him down - or warm him up. “You’re welcome,” he said softly, offering me a small smile.

I felt elated. It was real! He really controlled that guy... If he could do that, what else was he capable of? (By the way, that really is the last time I’ll refer to the... incident. All completely clear from hereon out.)

I offered him my hand. “I’m Cindy,” I said brightly.

He hesitated for a moment, and then took my hand and shook it gently. His hand felt smoother than I expected, and weirdly reminded me of varnished wood - the touch sent shivers up my arm. “David,” he said.

“Sooo,” I said, drawing out the one-syllable word as I slowly and reluctantly withdrew my hand. “You have mind control powers?”

He sighed, somehow looking both anxious and exasperated. “Yeah, I guess.” He really didn’t seem eager to talk about it!

I wasn’t discouraged. “How long have you had them for?”

“Long as I can remember,” he replied, “since I was a kid.”

“Does the rest of your family have it...”

“No, no, just me.” He shrugged. “Don’t know why - my parents don’t know why, either. I certainly didn’t get my powers from them. My sisters don’t have them. Don’t know where it comes from...”

“You ever try to find out?” I giggled. “Maybe you got abducted by aliens and experimented on, or something!”

My new friend David seemed to take the suggestion fairly seriously. “Maybe,” he said with another shrug. “I couldn’t tell ya. I’ve thought about it - maybe it was aliens, it’s possible, yeah. Or maybe a radiation leak affected me...”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean, like the Incredible Hulk, but with mind control?”

We shared a chuckle. “Yeah, maybe!” he nodded. “Or it could be magic... I don’t know. All I know is I have these powers, and I’ve had them for as long as I can remember, and I can use them on anyone.”

“And you don’t even have to be near them, or talk to them? Because, from the other side of the parking -”

“All I have to do is think about someone,” he interrupted. Not in a rude way, he just seemed to be eager to clarify - which was a good sign. He was getting more comfortable discussing his powers with me. “I don’t even need to look at them - I just picture them, and what I want them to do or think. And it just... happens.”

I sat in silence for a few seconds contemplating this. I imagined him in his apartment (though actually I pictured him in my apartment, partly because I didn’t know what his looked like), looking out the window and seeing a pretty girl walk by in the street outside. I imagined him reaching out with his mind, his will, and beckoning to her, calling her to him. I imagined the girl stopping in her tracks, turning and strolling over to his front door. I imagined her dropping to her knees the moment he opened the door, prostrating herself before him and offering to do whatever he asked of her, and let him use her however he wished.

I pictured myself as that girl.

Realising I’d been quiet for too long and David was staring at me in bemusement, I quickly blurted another question. “These people - do they know they’re being controlled?”

“They usually think it’s their own idea. But I can let them be aware of being controlled if I want. A couple of people I’ve done that to have told me that it feels like... like they lose control over their bodies, like they’re being remote controlled like a robot, or puppeteered by invisible strings.”

More lovely mental images danced through my brain.

I had to dare to ask. I just had to.

“Could you, um...” I stumbled shyly over my question. “Would you, like... demonstrate it, to me?”

He frowned. “Do you mean - you want me to control someone?”

I nodded, but stopped myself after four nods in rapid succession, trying not to seem too eager. “Y-yes, please. I’d be really interested to see it.”

He was getting that wary, closed-off expression again. “I don’t think I should...”

“Oh, come on, what’s the harm?” I cast my eyes quickly around the room, and my eyes fell on a skinny blonde girl wearing a black shirt, the green word ‘HAMILTON’S’ written across the front. She was walking out from behind the bar, carrying a pint glass filled with ale in one hand and a margarita in the other. “How about that waitress? You could get her to bring those drinks to us...”

David stared at me for a long moment, and then switched his gaze to the waitress. There was a quick, tiny twitch just above his eye.

The waitress turned smoothly to her left and walked up to our table, placing the drinks down in front of us. “Here you go, guys! Enjoy,” she said cheerily, already starting to walk away again as she said ‘enjoy’.

“Thank you,” David said.

I just gawped. For real, I stared after her with my mouth wide open. Lucky she didn’t notice, to be honest.

“OK, wow,” I eventually spluttered. “Wow! I mean, sucks for the guys that these drinks were actually going to, but...”

“That’s why I’m having her get more for them.” He gestured to the bar, and I looked around to see that she was indeed pouring another glass of ale, seemingly completely unaware of having given away the previous pair of drinks.

“I guess everyone’s a winner then,” I remarked. “That... I mean, that was awesome - I can’t believe you did that! I mean, I can believe it, I know it’s real, but at the same time... it’s just crazy. I knew mind control was a real thing!” I beamed at him as I picked up my margarita and began to sip it.

He didn’t return the smile, just shifted awkwardly in his seat and stared at his free drink. Why was he so pensive? I couldn’t understand it.

“I gotta ask, if you can do that with anyone and everyone - and you can, right?”

“I’ve never met someone that it didn’t work on.”

“Then why don’t you use it all the time? I mean, you could be President! And instead you’re here, sitting in the corner of a bar... I mean, I’m not judging you,” I said hurriedly, “but... why?”

“Why don’t I use my powers?” he said in a low voice, still not meeting my eyes.

“Yeah, I mean, it just doesn’t make sense to me...”

“Well, maybe it would if you’d lived my life,” he snapped.

I flinched at his sudden anger. He noticed, and his face softened into an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, that came out harsher than I meant.” He sighed. “I don’t talk about this stuff very often, and it does feel good to share it with someone who doesn’t judge me or seem scared of me... but it’s still difficult to discuss.”

I leaned forwards and put my hands flat on the table. I flirted with the idea of reaching out and putting a reassuring hand on his arm, but decided against it, instead offering him a sympathetic smile. “I get it.”

He took a deep breath. “I used to use my powers a lot when I was a kid,” he admitted, “but, uh, things got out of control, ironically... I hurt people I cared about. My parents, my sisters, my friends - I made them do shit, and... Let’s just say people got hurt, and it made me feel bad. Now I only use my abilities if I absolutely have to. Like the other night - I couldn’t just stand by... Most of the time, I just try to live my life like a normal person.”

“You really don’t use them on anyone?”

“No. It feels too much like a violation. Taking away people’s free will, making them obey me without even knowing about it...”

Even as I nodded my understanding, I felt a flare of arousal at those words. I bit my lip hard for a moment, before asking, “It feels wrong?”

He hesitated for a few seconds. “That’s the thing - it does, but it also feels good. Knowing I have power over other people. Being the most powerful person in the room, not having to answer to anyone else - having everyone else answer to me.” He gave me a look of faint distress. “And it scares me that it feels good.”

I realised that getting him to feel comfortable using his powers might be more difficult than I’d anticipated if he was this afraid of them. But he had already used them once tonight, and he’d confessed that it felt good to use them - both good signs.

“I mean,” I said slowly, “it really depends on what you make people do, doesn’t it? You could just make some people do silly little things, just to amuse you. Like with that waitress - that didn’t hurt anyone, just took her a few seconds and got us a free drink each!”

“I guess,” he said.

I gave him a coy smile. “And it felt good, didn’t it?”

After a prolonged pause, he begrudgingly admitted, “Yeah. Yeah, it did.” He smiled back at me, seeming to brighten - it was like a burden was being lifted from him.

My heart was starting to pound faster. Was now the right time to ask the question I most wanted to put to him? Or was it too soon?

“Would you, um...” I trailed off into an unintelligible mumble, finding I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

Go for it, I encouraged myself. You don’t ask, you don’t get!

“I was just gonna ask, would you... do it to me?”

He blinked in surprise. “What, control you?”

I forced myself to look at him and hold his gaze, doing my best to conceal how nervous and excited I was. “Yeah. Yes, please.”

“Why would you -”

“I just think it’d be n-neat,” I stammered. “I mean, I’m fascinated - uh, interested... I wanna know what it feels like.”

He pondered my words for an agonising few seconds. They felt like hours.

“OK,” he said at last, and my heart soared. “If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I am!” I blurted, nodding at what I hoped was a normal, not manically enthusiastic rate. “I’m sure.”

“Alright then.” He sat up straighter, looking me in the eyes.

This is it, I screamed inwardly, ecstatic.

“How much cash do you have on you right now?” he asked.

The question threw me for a moment, but I answered, “Like, forty bucks?”

He grinned. “How d’you feel about overtipping the bar staff?”

I narrowed my eyes, smiling. “I guess I’m OK with that...”

I was about to ask a follow-up question when a thought hit me - I needed to pay for the drinks that waitress brought us. It was important and immediate. “Um... excuse me for a moment,” I said to David, already halfway out of my chair.

I trotted over to the bar and waved to the blonde waitress, getting her attention. “Hi,” I said a little breathlessly, fumbling for my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans. “Sorry, I realised we never paid for those drinks you brought us!”

She frowned. “You didn’t?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Here you go, though, this should cover it.” I held out two crumpled notes, dropping them into her hand. “You can keep the change - call it a lateness fee!”

The waitress looked at the money in confusion. “Twenty dollars? That’s, like, way more than those drinks cost...”

I winked at her. “Seriously, keep the change. I don’t mind!”

Before she could object, I turned and walked away, returning to my table. I glanced back briefly to see her wearing a confused but grateful smile, as she pocketed one of the ten-dollar notes and went to put the other in the till.

I sat back down opposite David. “Sorry about that. We were talking about you using your powers on me?”

He struggled to conceal a smirk. “Cindy, I just did. I made you give that waitress twenty bucks.”

My eyes widened. “Wait... you did?”

“Yeah. Remember, we were talking about overtipping? And then you got the urge to go and give her twice as much money as we actually owed her.”

As I put the puzzle pieces together in my head, my jaw dropped. He had mind controlled me! “Holy shit!” I squeaked excitedly. “You did it!”

He glanced around, looking a little embarrassed at my loud response. “Yeah, I did,” he said with a bashful smile.

“That was incredible,” I gasped. “I really thought I was... that it was my idea... ohhh, wow...”

It was getting harder to conceal how turned on I was. Before, the notion of him controlling my mind was just that - a notion. An idea, a fantasy, that could happen but hadn’t yet. Now it had. He’d controlled me. I’d been controlled. Fuck, yes!

Also I was out twenty bucks, but that was a small price to pay.

“Do it again,” I whispered eagerly, leaning forwards, not caring if he knew how much I wanted it any more. All I wanted was to be controlled again.

He fixed me with another piercing stare. “Alright then. I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer honestly, and in detail. Does that sound OK to you?”

A part of me thought it was sweet that he was asking if I was OK with it. Another part was screaming at him, just control me already! Make me do whatever the fuck you want, don’t ask for my permission!

I swallowed hard and nodded my assent. “That’s fine by me.”

“OK...” He leaned towards me. We were now so close, his face encompassed nearly all of my field of vision. “Why do you want me to control you so badly?” he asked earnestly.

“I have a massive kink for mind control,” I replied without hesitation. “I think about it nearly all the time. I masturbate to fantasies of myself being controlled, compelled, forced to do things, being used as a brainwashed sex slave... I watch tons of mind control porn - you should see my queue on xVideos, it’s like five hundred mind control and hypnosis videos. And I read literotica that’s almost exclusively about mind control, too. There’s this great website called Read Only Mind - it’s really new but there’s like a thousand stories on there, and I’ve just been ploughing through them. I can’t get enough of it. And I’ve tried to find a way of recreating the feeling - I’ve seen a bunch of hypnotists, and they made me feel all entranced and spacey, and even gave me some fun triggers... But it’s hard to find one who’ll do sexy stuff. I even visited a dominatrix, but being ordered around and beaten and punished isn’t the same as being mind controlled. It was fun and I got off on it, but it wasn’t what I’d hoped for...”

I inhaled deeply, realising that I’d barely stopped for breath during that long speech! “Finding out about your powers was like a miracle. I want you to control me so badly. I want you to take my free will away. It’s so hot, so fucking hot...” I rambled and mumbled to a halt. I knew he’d made me babble that very detailed answer - I’d been aware as I spoke, yet unable to stop myself, growing hornier by the second... under his control. I was breathing heavily now, my mouth slightly open, gazing at the man I desired so deeply. I must have looked an absolute picture.

I could see the longing in his eyes - not just lust, but desperate yearning. He wanted me almost as badly as I wanted him, it was plain to see. But the fear was still there too. He wouldn’t let himself take me.

I spoke again, and this time it felt normal - like I was speaking of my own volition, rather than being compelled. That was probably a good thing - I was starting to feel like I was about to pass out from sheer breathless arousal, or even have an orgasm right there in the bar!

“I know you have reservations,” I said gently. “I know you’ve had bad experiences, and you feel like you’re taking away people’s choice - but I want that. I want you to take my choice. My free will. I’m giving my whole-hearted consent for that. I mean, you just made me tell the truth - you know I want this! And you want it too. I can tell.” I smiled encouragingly at him.

He wore a curious smile. I could tell he was starting to come round to the idea. “You would really be willing to let me... take you? We only just met...”

“I know, but I feel like I know you already. I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything really awful to me - you wouldn’t make me hurt or kill anyone, or myself...”

“How do you know that?” He raised an eyebrow. “I could’ve been lying this whole time to earn your trust.”

“Why would you need to? You can control anyone. Like I said, you could be President if you want to. You could’ve walked into this bar and made everyone serve you, fawn over you - get all the free drinks you wanted, have a bunch of people give you lap dances, whatever. But you didn’t. Someone with that kind of power doesn’t have to worry about the consequences of their actions - they don’t have to worry about consent, free will, the wellbeing of others. But that’s all you think about. And that’s how I know I can trust you. I’ll be safe with you.”

He sipped his ale in silence for almost a full minute, thinking everything over. I watched him, biting my lip nervously. A big part of me was confident that he was finally going to agree - but there was still a little bit of worry that he would say no, making my heart beat rapidly again.

“One night,” he said at last, his deep brown eyes fixating on mine.

I stared back and slowly grinned. “One night,” I agreed. “One night in which you can do whatever you want with me. Take me however you like. Use me for your wildest desires.” Glancing around me quickly, I leaned closer to him and spoke in a low voice, wearing my naughtiest smile: “Fuck me in any and all of my holes.”

David’s eyebrows rocketed up, and he struggled to suppress a smile. “One night,” he repeated. “And in the morning, we discuss things again, and see if we both want to continue... this.”

I nodded my assent. It was sweet that he still wanted to take as many precautions as possible to make sure I was comfortable. Although, I was 100% sure I wouldn’t feel any differently by the next morning! “So, uh... your place, or mine?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and trying to adopt a seductive pose.

He chuckled. “Yours, if that’s OK? But let’s finish our drinks.” He raised his pint to his lips. “I’d like to get to know you a little better first...”

***

We talked for another fifteen minutes, though as I was itching to get out of there and kick off our night of debauchery, it felt more like fifty! We discussed our respective upbringings - his family were Puerto Rican but he’d been born and raised in New York, while my family’s Chinese but I was born in Canada and moved to Brooklyn when I was seven. As we chatted about our school and college years, and compared our gyms and our workout routines, my mind kept wandering to endless sexy scenarios I saw playing out between us, that night and beyond.

Finally he finished his ale, and I made it perfectly clear that I was willing to abandon my half-drunk margarita. While he went to the bathroom, I abandoned our table and moved over to the bar to wait for him. I couldn’t stop tapping my foot on the floor, barely able to contain my excitement.

Suddenly I couldn’t wait for him any longer. I turned and walked swiftly away from the bar, straight towards the bathrooms. I strolled into the men’s room as if I owned the place. I wasn’t thinking about whether David would be finished in there, and if he would welcome my sudden entrance - I just knew I wanted to be with him. I made my way straight for one of the cubicles.

He was waiting for me inside. He stood in front of the toilet basin, fully clothed, a slight smirk on his face as I closed the door behind me and stood before him. I realised he had drawn me to him. With a delighted whimper, I undid my belt, sliding my black pants down just far enough to expose my red panties.

David licked his lips. He reached out with a trembling hand and gently touched my panties with his index and middle fingers. “Wow, you’re so wet,” he remarked in a hoarse whisper.

I giggled. “Yeah, I have been for like an hour now. Thanks to you...”

I stood with my arms at my sides as he slowly rubbed my pussy through the flimsy red fabric. Closing my eyes, I moaned with ecstasy, not particularly caring how loud I was. But after maybe twenty seconds I felt his fingers withdraw, and I opened my eyes just as he put his hand to my mouth. Eagerly, I ran my tongue over his fingers, tasting the moisture on them, feeling a thrill of arousal.

He took his hand away moments later. “Time to go home, I think,” he told me.

I almost wept with joy.