Alyssa
heard the fights. She saw her mommy with bruises. Once her daddy hit
her too. Her mommy cried sometimes, but she kept things going. Alyssa
went to kindergarten, and it was good to be with other kids and see
they were happy sometimes. She got happy too, when she was in school.
Then
her mom got sick. And sicker. Her daddy stopped beating her mom, and he
looked sad. But sometimes he threw stuff, like breaking glasses on the
floor. He punched a hole in the wall. He took her to the hospital to
see her mom, and she looked real sick. At home, Alyssa wanted someone
to hug her, and she tried going to her daddy but he pushed her away and
she fell down, so she never did that again. One day her dad took her to
the hospital, and her mommy was real sick, with lots of tubes. She
looked gray. Alyssa tried not to cry but couldn't help it a little. But
her mommy took her hand and said she loved her, and got this real
strange look on her face, like she was looking right through her.
Alyssa never forgot it. The next day her daddy said her mommy had died.
Then
it got real weird. Once he told her that her mom was dead, she suddenly
knew what he was thinking. He was sad, and he was really mad. And the
worst was how he felt about her. He knew he ought to be nice to her,
but he hated her. He wished she would just go away. He thought her
mommy had been nice to him until she was born, then she got real nasty
to him. That's what he thought, but Alyssa knew her mommy was nice. He
got her a frozen dinner that night that she didn't like, and when she
wouldn't eat he yelled at her. She could tell he felt like hitting her
but at least he didn't. He took her to school the next day, and she
felt weird the whole way on the bus. Thoughts that weren't hers were
going through her head. When she got to school she could tell what the
kids were thinking, and the teacher too. The teacher knew her mommy had
died and was watching to make sure she was OK.
Alyssa could tell
Tina wanted to play, but it was too weird knowing that she wanted to
play with the blocks and which blocks, and how she wanted to make sure
Alyssa didn't get the good stuff. She could hear all the thoughts the
boys had about being mad at the other boys and video games. It was too
much. So she just sat in the corner in a daze, not saying anything. She
somehow knew if she said stuff about her thoughts then things would get
worse.
She stumbled through a couple days. Her daddy didn't make
her take a bath or get her to brush her teeth or anything. He didn't
even comb her hair.
It was OK for Alyssa to cry, her teacher
knew, but she ought to be wearing different clothes to school each day
and her daddy should have combed her hair.
The teacher knew she
maybe ought to do something, but she didn't. Alyssa could see in her
mind this picture of them taking her away in a police car, and then
unfriendly women asking her lots of questions, and poking her and
looking all over, even checking between her legs, and that was gross.
And then sending her to live with some people who made her sit up
straight and eat vegetables and they never hugged her and they hit her
too. She could tell that the teacher was remembering when this had
happened to her. The teacher didn't want to make that happen to Alyssa,
and Alyssa thought she'd do anything not to go through that because her
daddy would get better soon.
She tried to act more normal. She
changed her clothes every day, and she tried to comb her hair, but it
was all snarled. At school, she played with some stuff, but when Tina
took her stuff Alyssa just let her take it. She sat when the teacher
read them a story. That was the best time. Then most all of the
thoughts were about the story.
Going home was good because she could get away from all the thoughts,
but it was bad because of her daddy.
A
few days after her mommy died, her daddy was waiting at the bus, but he
was real mad. His boss had let him take the time off when her mommy
died but her daddy knew he wasn't doing a very good job and the boss
might fire him anyway, and if he had to take time off for her he would
lose his job for sure. He was sad and angry and lost. She wanted to
feel safe with him, and though he took her home and gave her supper and
made himself ask how school was, he was no better inside.
That
night he was drinking. And he kept drinking. And his thoughts got all
fuzzy. He thought about buying a gun and shooting his boss. He suddenly
felt real sad about how he had beaten her mommy and then she had gotten
sick, and if he hadn't beaten her she wouldn't have gotten the cancer.
And he thought about how he would be a horrible father all by himself.
He actually thought maybe Alyssa would be better off dead than having
him as a father, and that made her real scared. He somehow stumbled
into bed, but on the way he stopped to look in at Alyssa, who did her
best to look asleep. And the anger that came over him was very strong,
along with such huge guilt and shame that he shouldn't be angry and
should now love his girl and give her what she needed. But he knew he
couldn't and that made him hate himself.
Alyssa waited with
pounding heart for a long time, agonizing over what to do. Then she
knew. She had to run away. She quietly got dressed in a pair of jeans
and a pullover shirt, then put on her shoes. She crept down the stairs
and out of the house, and then she ran. She ran the way the car usually
went when they went out, but she didn't know which way it went really
and pretty soon she saw stuff she had never seen before. A big church.
Little shops. There was no one around except a few drunks in the
doorways. She kept running. She worried someone might kidnap her and
kill her, but she thought of how her daddy felt and she didn't run
back. She kept running. She got to a place where there were just houses
again and then she slowed to a walk because she was out of breath. She
got to where there was a playground, and although she didn't know this
playground at least it felt kind of like a place she might belong. At
least that was familiar. But she didn't feel like she belonged anywhere
in the middle of the night. After a little scouting she found a spot
that was out of sight behind some big bushes in the same place the
playground was. She sat down and let herself cry, being careful not to
make too much noise so anyone could hear. It was a good thing it was
late spring and not too cold, but in the early morning it was still
chilly. She hugged her knees to herself as she cried. After a while her
sobs wore her out and she fell asleep.
She woke shivering and it was already well past dawn. Panic and dread
filled her again as she realized where she was and why.
She
did her best to think. Living with her daddy was going to be
terrifying. She remembered her teacher's memories of what it was like
if someone found out she was a child who needed help. She started
walking again, carefully. She was passing row houses now. She
understood now that those thoughts that ran through her head came from
different people, even though they were in the houses. They were in
showers, eating breakfast, shaving, picking out clothing, putting on
make-up, thinking mostly sad and tired thoughts but not all.
Occasionally she felt one of them looking at her, and their immediate
thought was to wonder what a little girl was doing walking down the
street by herself in the early morning. They also saw she had dirt on
her jeans and shirt and her hair wasn't combed. Alyssa tried to brush
some of the dirt off and tidied her hair a bit as she walked. A few
people thought about coming out to get her. One started getting dressed
to go out and talk to her, and when that happened Alyssa ran and kept
running until she was a block away.
The thoughts of the
different minds kept coming to her. Then she found one mind that was
different from the others. It was a man, and there was a surge of
tender feelings towards her. Other people had had thoughts that she was
cute and wanted her to be safe, and this man did too, but there was
something much more in this man. He also had fantasies that he was
ashamed of, fantasies about touching her and holding her, and about
having her in his house. But he wasn't thinking about calling the
police like all the others. He both cared for her a lot and part of him
wanted to keep her instead of calling the police. She glanced at his
house and as he saw her look he pulled back from the window.
There
was a woman coming down the sidewalk towards her, though still a block
away. In the other direction a jogger was approaching, on the other
side of the street. He really didn't want to interrupt his morning run
but this girl really looked like she needed help. He also worried that
if he tried to help her the police would ask him all kinds of questions.
She
thought again of the man who had been looking at her through his
apartment window. His thoughts were the same. Heart pounding, she went
up to his door and pressed the button. After ten seconds and no answer
she pressed again, then as the woman on the sidewalk got closer she
pressed again and again.
Then the door opened a little and Alex
Carlson appeared. She asked in a pleading voice if she could come in,
and he hesitated. She could sense that huge love and excitement he felt
together with great fear.
"Please," she said with such urgency he opened the door all the way.
She raced in and quickly turned to shut it behind her.
"Where is your mommy?" Alex asked.
"She's..."
She knew she would have to convince this man to keep her. She could
sense that enormous love he felt for her, and that was good, but now
her heart sank when she realized he was going to call the police too.
"My mommy's dead," she said, fighting hard to keep from crying out
loud. The tears ran down her cheeks anyway.
"Oh,
I'm so sorry," said the man, compassion surging through him. "Where's
your daddy?" Such a look of terror came over her face that he thought
about things again. He could see that she was really scared of her
daddy, and it was probably for a good reason. He felt very mad at
whatever her daddy had done to make her so scared. He knew that if he
called the police they would send her back to her daddy. His hunger to
keep her with him got strong again. Then came this more sober thought
that he would have to get rid of her somehow. His thoughts leapt to
calling friends he knew, but he could tell all roads led back to her
father.
She could sense all that, of course. His feelings in
different directions were so strong and so confused that she nearly
forgot her own problem.
In Alex's eyes, Alyssa was gorgeous
beyond words. Her blue eyes were framed by a perfectly symmetric round
face. Her wavy blond hair came down to the middle of her back, and with
a bit of care would be gorgeous. Alyssa knew he saw her that way and
knew it was good for her.
His thinking calmed enough to set him
on a course of action. Despite his enormous desire to keep her, he
said, "Let me call the police, and they can help figure things out."
She could tell that inside he hated the thought of what would happen to
her when she got back to her daddy, and on the other hand knew that if
he kept her he would go to prison. Why did he think that?
"No! I can't go back!"
He
was dumbfounded that a little girl would just walk up and beg to get
into his house. It made him consider if he really did believe in
miracles after all, and whether there was some deeper purpose to this
beyond what he could see. She could tell that if that part won he would
keep her safe -- unlike her father.
She got a sense of another
part of his love -- kind of like love, anyway. She saw him look at the
crotch of her jeans. She read in his mind the part that wanted to hug
her, to touch her private parts, to have her touch his peepee. Yuck!
She got his thought that if he kept her he would want to but he
shouldn't. Could he resist?
But then the other part came back. The part that meant he needed to
call the police.
"I can't keep you here!" He headed into the kitchen where the phone was.
"Wait!"
He had picked up the phone, pressed "911" and then turned back towards
her.
She
thought of that powerful desire to see her naked. She knew she wasn't
supposed to do what she was about to do, but it felt like her last hope.
She undid the button and zipper on her jeans and pulled her jeans and
panties down to her knees.
The
surge of feelings in the man's head was nearly overwhelming. He hung up
the phone so he could try to make sense of this new and even more
astonishing development. She felt a little less scared. Her plan had
worked, at least for now. She pulled her pants up again.
He had
no explanation for why she would do such a thing. The truth -- that she
could read his mind -- flickered among his thoughts but vanished as
quickly as it had come. His thoughts now drifted with shame to what
else she might volunteer to do to fulfill his forbidden desires, and
then jumped to how it would be if -- make that when -- she ended up
with the ladies who worked with the police who would get her to tell
everything.
It looked like she would be willing for him to touch
her between her legs. He wanted to so much. The temptation was strong.
If that happened then he might as well not call the police because they
would put him in jail anyway. But the thought gave him an almost crazed
need to call the police right then. He picked up the phone again and
started pushing the numbers, looking away from her.
She was
panicked. She screamed, "Wait!!" while pulling her jeans and panties
down again, stumbling over to him as her pants tripped her up. He
turned around, and she grabbed his free hand and pulled him downward
and placed his hand right against her private parts.
She could
hear a voice on the phone. "Oh, I'm sorry," he mumbled and hung up. She
let go of his hand and pulled her pants back up.
In that moment
she caught his thought that now he could never call the police, and
then she felt the enormous surge of excitement which shamed him.
Alyssa was exhausted. She trudged to the living room and flopped on the
sofa, the man following her, stunned and bewildered.
Her
mommy was dead, her daddy was a topsy-turvy jumble of rage and sadness
and she wasn't safe with him. If the police didn't send her back to her
father they would send her to that horrible place that her teacher
remembered.
Now she was with a man who would protect her. She
started crying. The man's feelings of tenderness surged, and after a
brief hesitation he sat down beside her. She leaned against him. He put
his arm around her. They always told her to be shy of strangers, but
she knew what this man felt. Yes, he wanted to touch her in sexy ways,
but she knew he wouldn't do anything if she told him not to. For now he
just loved her. She sensed he wouldn't mind if she crawled into his
lap, so she did, and he cradled her like a small child, gently stroking
her back. She sobbed, and because he didn't mind she kept sobbing. She
knew she had fallen asleep as she became just a little aware of his
getting up and laying her on the sofa, taking her shoes off, and then
coming back with a blanket. She did reach to his thoughts enough to
know he was not going to call the police.
She
gradually woke and sat up quietly. She then padded about to look for
him. She saw the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, and then what
looked like part bedroom and part office. He was in there, typing on
the computer, but he had headphones on and she could just barely make
out tinny whispers of music.
He somehow sensed her presence and turned, quickly pulling off the
headphones.
"Oh!
Hi. How do you feel? Are you hungry?" he asked. Along with that thought
was the unspoken one that she looked filthy and bedraggled.
She
nodded, answering the question he had asked, not addressing the
thoughts about her being dirty. He made her a grilled cheese sandwich,
then a second one.
She said she needed a bath. He thought that
after she bathed, she would either have to put back on her dirty
clothes or wear something of his, maybe a giant T-shirt.
"I can
just put my own clothes back on," she said, heading to the bathroom.
She sensed his puzzlement that she had answered the question he was
about to ask, though he knew it could also be a coincidence.
His
bathtub was all different from hers. He got her a towel, and showed
where the soap was. She had just learned how to take a bath by herself
and even wash her hair before her mommy got real sick. She put her same
clothes back on.
She knew without asking that he was going to insist they have a long
talk.
She settled on the sofa while he took an armchair.
"What's your name?"
"Alyssa."
"Why on earth did you knock on my door?"
"I needed to get inside before someone called the police."
"Why did you choose my door?"
She was silent.
"And why on earth did you pull down your pants and then..." he trailed
off.
She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Her gift of reading minds was
still very new to her. She didn't know what to say.
"It
seemed right," she said, but could tell he didn't believe that was
everything. She continued, "I ... I thought you wouldn't call the
police."
"Why did you pull your pants down?"
"Something about the way you looked made me think you would like that."
The
man bowed his head into his hands and groaned inwardly. So much for
being discreet. He knew he must keep his pedophilic inclinations
entirely to himself. So he made sure not to look at little girls very
much. He hadn't done anything suspicious with this girl, had he?
Then
she felt bad for him. "Or not so much the way you looked; I just had a
feeling. I knew that if you touched me there then you wouldn't call the
police."
There was something strange about this girl. He
realized she had fixed him with a stare which he had rarely seen before
in his life. He was bewildered.
"Did your daddy touch you between the legs?" he asked.
"No," she said, simply.
She tried to find a way to answer his questions. "I can kind of know
what you're thinking."
He thought she meant that she could read nonverbal clues, but she
answered him before he asked.
"No, like I really know what you're thinking."
He wondered how she had gotten that fanciful notion. Still, her
behavior had been extraordinary.
He decided to prove her wrong. "If I thought of a number, could you
guess it?"
"Probly," she said.
He thought of... 412.
"Four hundred twelve," she said.
His mind went numb while his heart started racing. What sort of reality
was he in? Had he fallen down a rabbit hole?
Putting
aside his disbelief, he thought about the implications if she really
could know what he was thinking. Would she know everything? He had to
assume so. She would know about his job, his parents, and his
ex-girlfriend. She would know he had cheated on her. She would know
that he got grossed out by fat people, that he was afraid of snakes.
She also obviously knew of his fantasies about little girls. She felt
his growing fear, then felt his heart closing off.
"No, I'm sorry! I don't want to! Don't hate me! I need you!"
She
did seem to need him. What if he thought of something really awful?
What if he thought of hurting her? The image of a knife going into her
chest came to him, and he was mortified. He had no desire to do any
such thing, but he had posed the challenge to his mind, so he had
thought about it. So was she picking that up too?
Alyssa's lip quivered, then she ran to the bathroom and shut the door.
He could hear her crying.
He
felt such remorse. He went to the far end of the kitchen, hoping she
couldn't read his thoughts that far away. He was wrong, but didn't know
it at the time.
He tried making sense of his boiling mess of thoughts. What was really
most important?
A
girl had come into his life. He loved her without question, then
stopped to consider what he meant by that. She was certainly cute. He
had romantic and sexual desires towards her -- the image of what she
had in her panties came back to him strongly. But he knew that wasn't
really love. But he did feel something deeper, a much more profound
love.
She was a little girl who needed him. He would protect her
as if she was his own daughter. Her happiness was now more important to
him than his own. He hoped that she wouldn't tell on him, and that he
wouldn't go to jail for kidnapping. He would have to trust her.
Then he felt calm and knew the right thing to do.
He walked slowly back to the bathroom and stood outside.
"Alyssa?"
There was no answer.
"I'm going to forget you can read my mind and just talk.
"You
are welcome to stay here as long as you want, and when it's time for
you to leave that's OK too. I'll try to understand you and what you
need and I'll try to get it for you." As the next thought came to him
he felt a surge of shame and fear, but he went on: "I may feel like
touching your private parts and all, but I'm not going to. I'll be like
a good father." He hadn't planned this all out in advance, but the
words that came to him felt right.
"I may have all sorts of
weird thoughts, but they're just thoughts, OK? I thought about hurting
you because I was panicked thinking of how you could read my most
horrible thoughts, and so I couldn't help having horrible thoughts come
to me." He decided to try humorous thoughts. He thought of her mushing
an ice cream cone onto his head. He wondered how he would look in a
dress, and imagined himself in a tutu, walking on his toes with little
tiny steps. He thought he could hear a little giggle from behind the
bathroom door. He thought of Alyssa in a pioneer dress driving a wagon,
and pulling it was a horse, but he was also the horse, and he looked
back over his shoulder at her.
He didn't hear anything more. So
he sat down right on the floor and leaned up against the wall across
from the bathroom door with his legs crossed, and felt his mind relax.
He didn't know what was going through her mind, but he would wait as
long as it took. If she wanted to scream at him or hit him he would
take that calmly too. She was a little kid and no matter how
unreasonable or immature she was, that was going to be OK with him. If
her mother was dead and she was scared to death of her father, he
should be prepared for anything.
He heard her unlock the door
and open it. Her eyes were red. She took tentative small steps towards
him, hesitated a couple times and looked at him. Then she turned around
and sat in his lap and leaned up against him.
The thought of her
panties and what was inside them came to his mind. He felt a flash of
shame, and he thought he could feel Alyssa tense for a moment. He then
reflected on his new attitude. He would feel it, but there was no way
on God's green earth he would do anything. Alyssa relaxed.
Alex
had a day job for an insurance company, handling calls all day long. He
didn't like it much, but it was a living. He had forgotten to call in
sick what with Alyssa showing up on his doorstep. He wouldn't be in too
much trouble for that, but he had to get to work the next day. He also
knew you couldn't leave little girls alone at home. Maybe he should get
a babysitter.
"No babysitters!" Alyssa answered.
He
didn't know how to get babysitters, he wasn't sure he could afford
them, and worst of all they might find out that he wasn't really her
father. It would be suspicious, to say the least, that he didn't have a
single change of clothing for her.
"I can call you on the cell
phone if I need something," she answered simply. "And if there are bad
guys I should know about it from their thinking."
He would have to break one of the parenting rules, but it seemed fairly
safe. He was pretty sure she wouldn't run away!
He
went shopping that night and got her a couple sets of clothes, and
added items over the next few days until she had the basics of what she
needed.
No newspaper stories reported Alyssa as missing over the
next few days. She was not in the online missing child registry. As it
turned out, her father had panicked when she wasn't there in the
morning. He had driven around the neighborhood aimlessly looking for
her. But he hadn't remembered to call in sick either, and when he got
home there was a message saying he was fired. All his troubles came
crowding in on him, and he had left town that night.
When Alyssa
didn't show up at school they called his house and then visited. They
concluded he had just abruptly left town with her.
He drifted on
through life. His guilt at losing Alyssa weighed on him along with
other regrets. He had faith that she had found a better home, and in
that at least he was correct.
A week after her arrival, Alex
decided that if she was disguised a bit they could risk going out --
Alyssa was going crazy sitting home all day alone. Alex cut her hair
short. It was not a stellar job, but it was good enough. They also dyed
it black. After months went by and there were still no signs of a hunt
for Alyssa, they "undyed" it as best they could and let it grow out
again.
She had explained bit by bit over the first couple days
what happened with her parents. Alex's hatred for her father softened
into pity and concern for the man. What mattered was that she was out
of his clutches.
Alex
acted his part of father well. His sexual attractions to Alyssa came to
him but he put them aside fairly successfully. Before her arrival he
had been in the habit of masturbating regularly but figured he
shouldn't. But a few days after her arrival he woke in the middle of
the night with a serious erection and realized he couldn't just stop.
He hoped that Alyssa wouldn't read his mind while she was asleep, but
he wasn't going to try to suppress his sex drive completely. So with a
few furtive strokes and images in his mind of Alyssa with her panties
down he emptied his balls of all the cum that had been building up.
Alyssa
looked at him thoughtfully in the morning -- or maybe he was just
imagining it. He wondered if they should talk openly about his sexy
feelings. She apparently thought so, because she immediately brought it
up.
"You know your sexy feelings?"
A ripple of fear and shame went through him.
"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "How is it for you?"
"I can tell you feel all upset about them. I don't really know what
they are. I mean, I don't feel like that."
"A girl your age wouldn't."
"You know last night you did ... something that felt good?"
Alex felt a little shame go through him. "Yeah," he said with a sigh.
"I liked how you felt happier this morning. You should do that more."
"Oh." He felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe Alyssa could be on his team in
dealing with his feelings.
"And would you show me how it works? I want to know."
That was different. "A girl your age shouldn't have to think about
those things."
"I can't help thinking about it. I get the thoughts all the time from
you."
In answer to his impulsive thought, she said, "Sure, right now!"
Her
logic made sense, and he certainly wanted to. He realized later that
his judgment was also clouded. He walked swiftly to the bedroom and she
followed. He stripped and his erect organ came into view. She looked at
it with some wonder. She had obviously read his thoughts about it, but
seeing it for real was something different.
"Go ahead, do that thing."
So
lying on the bed, looking at her and imagining her without clothes on,
he stroked for under a minute before straining his hips upward and
spurting gobs of cum onto his chest.
She smiled as he panted.
Reading his mind as always, she brought him a box of tissues so he
could clean up. Now that his animal need was satisfied and his thoughts
were calmer she looked at the organ more closely. It had shrunk quite a
bit.
"They said in school and my mommy said that I should keep
covered up and not show anyone my private parts. And if any man tried
to touch me I should tell a grown-up like a teacher."
His
thought matched hers. Here, the man and the grownup were the same guy.
She also immediately caught his thought that even if her privacy
warnings hadn't covered the topic yet, she wasn't supposed to let a man
show her his private parts either, especially not erect and spurting
cum.
Alex said, "The reason for all that is the man might go on to do
something really bad."
She smiled and shrugged.
"I promise not to do anything bad. But I can't promise not to think bad
thoughts."
So
the rules were a little different. This man was being very, very nice
to her to let her stay with him, and he loved her. They weren't
supposed to look at each other's private parts mostly, but this was
different, and maybe she could help him be happy.
The next day
when he came home from work she picked up his intense sexual desire for
her. Could she do a little bad stuff without doing too much? She
beckoned him to follow her into his bedroom. She unbuttoned her jeans
and pulled them down to the top of her thighs so her panties were
showing, then smiled at him.
"Go ahead and do it!" she urged.
The surge of lust he felt was unmistakable to her, and he pulled down
his pants just enough that he could get at his cock and started jerking
himself strongly. Following his thoughts, she pulled her jeans down to
her knees, then held the front band of the panties open and looked down
inside. He went crazy and his body seized again as he spurted all over
the floor. She kissed him on the cheek and skipped off giggling. She
had helped him feel so happy!
Later that evening he found her.
She knew the basic gist of what he had to say, of course, but she let
him say it. "Alyssa, you deserve a family where the man isn't always
thinking about you sexually. It's not right for me to keep you here.
You could go somewhere and just never tell anyone where you have been,
so I wouldn't go to jail -- assuming you don't want me to go to jail."
"I don't want you to go to jail!"
"Good. So I just take you to another town, and they would find you a
good home."
She
didn't know that her teacher's memories of being a child in foster care
were from a long time ago, and that most children today were treated a
lot better. She could only go on the information she had.
She
got up and sat on his lap and put her arms around him. "I need you,"
she said simply. When she could tell he wasn't satisfied with that, she
went on. "I know you love me, and even if you think sexy thoughts you
don't make me do anything I don't want to, and it's kind of nice to
know I can make you so happy by just showing you my panties or
something."
As he thought about giving her away again, he
considered the trouble she could get into with her mind-reading. It had
been very hard for her to hide it, hard for her to explain, and very
difficult for him to accept. She faced that all over again. If someone
alerted the authorities that she could truly read minds, the CIA might
well whisk her away as an extremely valuable "national security asset".
Compared to those possibilities, he wasn't treating her badly.
When she picked up those thoughts from him she hugged him tighter.
As
the days went by he felt blessed, because just about any time he felt a
sexual urge towards her, she would turn and smile at him, then do some
little thing that turned him on. She could blend her own ideas with his
unspoken fantasies. He in turn could jerk off. She was happy at the
pleasure he felt and happy to feel his desire for her subside.
She
pulled her pants down and wiggled her butt at him. She lifted her dress
to show him her panties. She reached up under her dress to pull the
panties down to her ankles, but kept the dress covering her, then
reached her hand up underneath to pretend to play with herself.
Once
he reached out his hand very slowly towards her pussy. She felt his
desire but she knew what she wanted. She shied away and he got the
message. She gave him a smile and a kiss on the cheek.
The boundaries were clear. He could look at her but not touch.
Alex wanted to know what it was like to read minds, and within two
weeks he started questioning her in earnest.
"So you get lots of thoughts from different people? Isn't it hard,
especially if it's crowded somewhere?"
"Yeah,
it was really hard at first. Now I can decide which ones I want to
listen to. The others are kind of like voices of the other people when
you're in a crowd."
"How do you do decide? If you look at a
person do you know the thoughts that come from them, or if you get some
thoughts, do you know where to look? Or can you say, 'I only want to
hear about nice thoughts, or only thoughts about me, or only about
sex,' or what?"
"It's kind of all mixed up. Again, like voices
in a crowd. If someone says your name, you notice. If they say a dirty
word or shout you notice."
"So what's shouting in thoughts?"
"Really
strong feelings. If I see someone I can pick up their thoughts usually
because I can tell what direction they come from, and how far away."
They went to a busy place downtown to do some experiments.
"OK, so can you tell me all the thoughts you get?"
Alyssa
sighed. "I'll try: My foot hurts. Nice ass. Maybe I'll... I'm gonna
kill him! Double-spaced, 12 pages. What if she calls me? She was a good
f---, I mean lay. Sun is sure bright." She stopped and looked at him.
"This is really hard."
"Thanks, dear. Can you find a thought
like 'I'm gonna kill him!' and stick with it? Can you tell if he's
really gonna kill him or not?"
"I think so, by now -- Huh. There's a guy over there looking to steal
stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"Like purses."
"Is he serious?"
"He's got one already today."
He followed her gaze. "The guy with the gray jacket?"
"Yeah, he's about to bump that guy to get his wallet."
Alex stopped to look.
The man with the gray jacket looked around and when he saw the two of
them looking at him he dropped back.
They looked away and kept walking.
Suddenly Alyssa halted, then raced off towards a man walking by.
"You have to stop it! You have to stop it!"
The man stopped walking, looking bewildered.
Alex raced over. He had no idea what Alyssa was reacting to, but this
was probably not the right thing to do.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said, dragging Alyssa away by the hand.
"You have to stop hitting ..." she said.
Alex called out in a very loud voice, "So sorry, sir, she's got some
difficulties!"
He turned to her and muttered under her breath, "You stay quiet until
we're at the car!" He held her hand firmly.
When they were inside, he turned to her.
"That guy hit his wife in the face and she's got a bruise."
"Just now?"
"No,
this morning. He feels real guilty. But he's done it before and he
knows he can't stop. Hitting her. Once he burned her boob with a
cigarette!"
"Oh, shit," Alex muttered. Alyssa sensed his anger
and also sensed that he felt guilty that he didn't help people in
general more than he did. But there were other considerations she
didn't understand until he spoke.
"OK, so he's doing a terrible
thing. We would like to stop it. What can we do? Suppose I let you
stand there and tell him to stop hitting his wife. Do you think he will
stop?"
"I dunno."
"What will we tell him about how we know? Not that you read his mind,
right?"
"So then he's going to beat her up, or rip the phone off the wall or
something."
"Oh. Is there some other way?"
Alex
thought about it. "We could tell his wife, but what can we say that she
doesn't know? She knows at some level she can leave. Something holds
her back, and we can't change her mind."
"Oh," said Alyssa, then leaned against Alex. "It's just that my
father..."
Alex
was startled and kicked himself that he had forgotten the connection.
"Oh, I forgot, sweetie! Yeah, that would make it hard for you!" He put
his arm around her.
She stayed snuggled against him as she cried softly. After a minute she
pulled away. "Thanks, Daddy," she said.
He
didn't know if she realized herself what she had said, but she would
know it now from reading his thoughts. But it made him feel very happy.
He couldn't legally adopt her, of course, but he felt he already had in
the ways that matter most. Now it looked like she had adopted him.
How
was Alyssa going to spend her days? They couldn't enroll her in school
without papers, though maybe they could find an informal home schooling
group. But the more fundamental issue was that it was going to be hard
for her to be with people when she could read their thoughts but
couldn't let them know she could.
The most interesting way
Alyssa could spend her time was riding around with Alex in his car
slowly as she read thoughts of those they passed. A suburban area
worked best because then the thoughts had some spacing between them.
Staying in the car seemed prudent because of their experience with the
wife abuser. In the safety of the car, she could give vent to her
reactions without fear of consequences.
Alex's day job seriously limited the time he could devote to her. She
found that frustrating.
One day she picked up some thoughts that changed all that.
"That woman," said Alyssa, as they walked on past the park bench. "Mrs.
Waite."
All
Alex saw was a nondescript older woman sitting on a bench. Alyssa sat
on the bench two down from the woman and Alex sat next to her. Alex
glanced at Alyssa from time to time as she concentrated.
Alyssa
got up and they walked away down the path before she described what had
caught her attention. "She's got less than a year to live," she said,
"and no one really cares about her."
"I'm sorry," said Alex. There were all too many people like that in the
world.
"But
she is very rich. She would leave all her money to anyone who showed
her true kindness. She can hire all the help she wants, but she wants
more."
Alex looked at Alyssa, and Alyssa looked at Alex. Perhaps they could
both show her true kindness and get rich at the same time.
"Let's go introduce ourselves," Alex said.
Alyssa
had her doubts. They would be cheating, because they would be doing it
for the money. But she understood his thought that if they inherited a
lot of money he could quit his job and they would have more time
together. He also thought that they would truly be kind. They would
just be choosing who to be kind to.
"Hello, ma'am," Alex said.
"My niece here, Alison, said she thought you looked lonely and wanted
to say hello. Do you mind if we sit with you for a minute?"
"No, no, not at all!"
She
was wary, but seemed charmed by the sympathetic and pretty Alyssa and
by the solicitous Alex. They listened carefully as she reminisced about
her youth and described her various medical complaints in some detail.
After a while the woman said she had to be going.
"Will you come back tomorrow?" Alyssa asked.
"Yes, if I can," the woman answered.
The next day they talked for half an hour.
"What do you see in an old woman like me?" she asked.
Alyssa shrugged. "You seem nice."
That
was apparently enough for the woman. They met again the next day, and
then the woman asked them if they would like to come to dinner.
"Oh,
ma'am, we should be taking you out," said Alex, hoping he was saying
just what she would expect him to say to a woman of her age and
appearance.
"That is very kind of you," she said. "But I would like to ask you to
my home. I will have my cook prepare you a meal."
"Your cook?" asked Alex, trying to act surprised to just the right
extent.
"I have a little money," she said, "and I have a cook."
Her
mansion was stunning. They only saw three servants but suspected there
were more. Alex and Alyssa enjoyed a delicious meal. They weren't
sophisticated enough to understand just how good the food was, but it
tasted very good to them.
Within a few days, Mrs. Waite weakened
and didn't feel up to her walk. She said she wanted to know who they
were beyond the first names and phone number she had. Alex wrote down
his full name and address for her. He said Alyssa was his niece, that
his sister had died not too long before, but that Alyssa's father was
in and out of jail. Alex was almost certain he could get custody of the
girl, but it hadn't gone through yet.
After their next visit,
Alyssa reported that Mrs. Waite had changed her will and had left most
of her estate to Alex. She reported that Mrs. Waite was convinced by
Alex's explanation that leaving anything to Alyssa would risk legal
complications. In fact she would not have been able to come forward to
claim the money without being taken away from him.
A month later, Mrs. Waite died with Alex at her side holding her hand.
Alex inherited $185 million and promptly quit his job. He bought a
roomy house with six bedrooms.
Alyssa
couldn't play with other kids her age, but she could listen in. So Alex
often took her by schools and houses where kids were playing. She
mastered what the other six-year-olds were thinking, but before long
found them boring. She moved on to the seven-year-olds, then the
eight-year-olds. She learned an enormous amount from reading minds.
As they drove around, Alyssa did her best to share interesting thoughts
with Alex instead of just keeping them all to herself.
"She hurts all day long. Her back."
"He's sad and lonely, and looking forward to his favorite TV shows
tonight."
"She's really excited about her work."
"Wait, stop! There's a boy and girl up in the bedroom. They're kissing."
"How old?"
"Juniors
in high school." She smiled. "He likes the kissing but mostly he's
thinking about how hard his dick is and how much he wants to stick it
in her 'cunt'. Does that word mean what I think it does?" She had only
to read Alex's thought to know she was correct.
She continued, "And he's trying to think of what to do so she'll let
him. Now he's rubbing her breasts through her shirt."
"What does she think?"
"She's excited and thinks that feels nice, but isn't sure what she
wants."
She could read Alex's thoughts too, of course, and turned to him, "Gee,
you feel sexy just listening to me talk about it!"
He sighed. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"Now
he's moved his hands down to her legs and he's rubbing up and down on
her jeans. She likes that. He put his hand right up where her legs meet
and she really likes that."
Alyssa was silent a while, smiling.
"What's happening?"
"Oh,
more rubbing and kissing and all. But now they're taking their clothes
off. He is excited looking at her breasts. They're smaller than he
hoped but he doesn't mind. Now he's putting his hand inside her
panties. She's feeling really warm and good." Alyssa looked at Alex
with wide eyes. "She really wantshim to stick it in
her!"
Alex smiled, his cock very hard with his own desire. "Yeah, big girls
do."
"OK,
now his underpants are off and her panties too. She sees his thingie
and is scared but real excited too. He's lying on top of her. He's
hoping she won't ask about a condom. She thinks she ought to but just
wants it in her so bad she isn't going to. Now it's sliding in..." She
lapsed into silence.
"Keep talking!" Alex urged.
Alyssa
smiled. "He feels really good. She thinks it feels strange but she
loves it. He's going really fast. It's weird to feel both of them. Her
cunt feels really good on him, and she loves his strong hot thing. OK,
he's close, almost, almost ... there! He had the same thing you have
when you feel good. Even stronger in him."
She stopped to look at Alex. "You want to do that in her too, and
you've never even seen her!"
"I'm afraid that's how lots of us guys are."
"And you really liked it when I said 'cunt'."
Alex
felt ashamed, but also annoyed. "I know you get all my impolite
thoughts," he said, "but do you have to remind me about it all the
time?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy. Your thoughts are good, compared to most people."
In the future she tried to use a little discretion about what she told
him.
Once in the evening she said, "Stop!" and looked upset.
After
a few moments, she spoke. "There's a little girl in there, not as old
as me. She's lying in bed and she's scared because she knows her
stepfather is going to come in and play with her. He does every night."
"Oh, Jesus," said Alex.
"He
sticks a finger up inside her and she has to take his thingie in her
mouth, and then..." Alyssa paused for a moment, fighting back a gag.
"Then all the goop shoots into her mouth!"
After a pause, she continued, "What can we do?"
"Do you have her name?"
"Maribel."
"Last name, school?"
"Got it. What are we going to do?"
"Call
the school and tell them we have a suspicion of sexual abuse. They will
talk with her and she'll probably admit what's going on, then they'll
make him stop."
Driving by a week later they found that the
stepfather didn't live there any more, and the girl felt better that it
wasn't happening anymore and that she didn't have to keep a secret.
Alyssa
wanted to try a public place on foot, and they chose the mall. She knew
she had to muzzle her reactions to avoid giving away her mind-reading.
A
couple high school girls walked by. Alyssa looked up at Alex and smiled
as they walked on. When they were out of earshot she said, "You really
wanted to stick it in both of them. You dirty old man!" she teased. She
had gotten that expression from his thoughts.
"Oh, Alyssa. I am who I am!" He was more upset than she expected.
"No, dad, no, it's OK!" she said. "Maybe I can find you someone you can
stick it in."
"What?"
"Well, some of the girls want to do it too. Maybe some with you."
He thought about that. This Alyssa could be useful in ways he never
dreamed. Alyssa smiled at his thought.
After wandering for some minutes, an attractive girl walked by, smiled
at them and walked into one of the stores.
"There's one for you."
"What do you mean?"
"She's
17 and no one has ever stuck it in her. She plays with herself at least
twice a day and sticks her hairbrush handle up inside. Her name is
Jill."
He felt himself getting hard listening to Alyssa's description as he
watched the girl looking over the T-shirts.
"She
doesn't know how to find a guy who knows what he's doing to do her the
first time. All you need to do is tell her she has a nice neck, then
ask her for her cell number when she comes out of the store. Wait..."
Alyssa smiled. "Just ask her if she wants to go back to your place."
"I can't do that!"
"She'll say yes. I'll wait out here for you."
He gathered up his nerve as she walked out. This could be embarrassing
but at least not illegal.
"Excuse me, miss. You're very ... um ... attractive. Could I have your
cell number so we can go out some time?"
"Oh, ummmm," said the girl, showing her surprise.
He
realized he had followed Alyssa's instructions in the wrong order.
"What a lovely neck you have!" he said, half to himself, noting it was
longer than usual but no less attractive for that.
"Sure!" She looked at him with such interest he figured Alyssa must be
right.
"Um... Do you want to come back to my place now?"
"Sure!!"
His
girl Alyssa was not leading him astray. But he stopped. He couldn't
leave Alyssa alone in the mall, and they could hardly hop in the car as
a happy threesome.
"I just realized I can't right now, but I could meet you here in an
hour."
"Great!"
Later
that day, Alex came back home with the girl Jill in tow. Alyssa lay
very quietly on her bed with the door closed. Alex offered Jill a Coke,
but she didn't seem interested in preliminaries. So he took her
shoulders tentatively and drew her close; she came into his arms
hungrily. Within minutes she lay on his bed, her fine young breasts on
full display and her legs spread wide as she eagerly urged him to take
her.
After putting on a condom, he slid his cock into the hot
virgin. Her hairbrush handle had cleared the way for a smooth passage.
He smiled at her expression of wonder at being filled with a real cock
for the first time. Soon he was lost in his own pleasure as well. Jill
had a sexual response to match her horniness, and she came within a
couple minutes, straining up against him and gasping loudly. Having
satisfied her, he decided not to hold back. He pounded into her with
fast, hard strokes and within a few seconds he felt his mind pulse with
pleasure as his cock spurted.
After fifteen minutes of afterglow
he was ready to go again. He suggested she try being on top, but she
declined. She wanted it the good old-fashioned way. She came twice as
he took his time possessing the gorgeous, horny teen.
After she
left, Alyssa found her daddy and smiled at him. Not wanting to
embarrass him any more, she said, "I'm so happy for you!" Alex smiled
back.
Jill came over every day for a week and they dove right
into bed. She wanted to try everything. From the rear, cowgirl, on
their sides, oral both ways.
But after a week she canceled their
next date and was evasive in answer to Alex's attempts to reschedule.
They never saw each other again. She had had her sexual initiation.