Title: ORF VI: A Turn Down Memory Lane
Author: bobwhite
Summary: Xavier recalls his life before ORF.
Keywords: Ff MFf+ mc

ORF Chapter VI: A Turn Down Memory Lane
by Bobwhite

                          * * * * * * * * * *

Turning my attention back to the odd message I'd received before
Jenny's call, I hit the play button several times and listened to the
message till I'd learned everything about it I could--which was,
sadly, not much. Flipping on my computer, I even ran it through my MC
command detector, and there were no commands hidden in it. Just as
likely, not many people can even do that through electronic media.

As the next couple of weeks passed, I mostly forgot about the message.
It probably had to do with "business picking up," if you will. We were
getting busier than ever, and a new kind of problem was spreading from
one district to another in a hopelessly random pattern: low- to
moderately-powerful mind controllers were being deleted.

Most people in our group would not mind it if they all went away, but
they're a valuable resource once recruited, and for some reason, we
can't directly detect them very well, even with all of our powers.
They have unlimited mental range and we don't, so they're prone to
hiding up in some private mansion on an out-of-the-way road in the
middle of nowhere. We usually find them because of their own
sloppiness. Sometimes, we just find--quite accidentally--a
construction worker who built the mansion. The heavy-handed deletion
of memories is a good clue.

The controllers who were disappearing weren't known deleters. They
were weaker versions of us: limited range, some with body-altering or
mild reality-altering powers. Most were just run-of-the-mill
telepaths, although at least seven hypnotists (2 of which weren't
aware that their power of hypnosis was something a bit more than a
normal hypnotherapist could muster) were taken.

All of the hypnotists had been found, as well as most of the
telepaths; but their powers were gone by the time we found them. For
their protection, we kept them powerless but with a safety shield that
would save them from future attacks. None of them, oddly enough, were
engaged in any activity at the time of rescue other than nearly
catatonic captivity. No sexual themes, although all of the abducted
men and women had used their powers for that need.

Maybe that's why we went on a bit of alert. Maybe it was the absence
of a local supervisor, or organizer, or whatever--when would the
Druids (as I call them, even though I don't know who or what they are)
send a boss to help us out? And, why was I having headaches? They seem
to move around my head like a lead marble in my skull... a lead marble
that always is on the southwest part of my skull. Yep, it had a
geographical focus. As I concentrated and removed the headache, I
recalled fondly the time when I discovered my powers and built my
reputation with ORF before joining.

I floated through school, never really having to apply myself too hard
to make decent grades. I was noted for being able to talk people into
almost anything years before I knew I had some true mental power over
others. Not knowing what to do with myself after high school, I got a
crappy job at a telemarketing firm a few towns away to pay for my
first apartment. The thing about those jobs is this: almost anyone can
get the job, but only persuasive telemarketers (we called ourselves
"reps") will last more than a few months. That's when strange things
started to happen.

It must have been the competition that made me really apply myself for
the first time, and as soon as I was actually trying hard to do
something, I began to get... headaches? No, not painful, more like a
gentle vibration in my head that only I could detect. Kind of like
what I have nowadays, but always at the front of my head, not stuck
like a cock-eyed compass on a certain direction. Anyway, when I made a
sale, it would go away. Sometimes, when I'd make a sale to a very
irate customer, it would go away while I was talking him into it.

A little disturbed by this soundless buzzing, I got up to get a drink
of water. There were people in front of me flapping their jaws and not
getting out of the way. After a minute or so, I got frustrated and
told them to move out of my way. Just then, the buzzing that had
returned without me even noticing had stopped suddenly. Suddenly, the
people moved out of my way. They were just as surprised as I was,
especially when they could not at all impede my progress towards the
water cooler. It was then that I started to piece things together. I
wanted a round of applause from my coworkers, so I formed the thought
and pushed so hard I thought I'd crap my pants... and nothing
happened.

Chalking it up to a fluke, I went back to my seat, and fondly
fantasized what it would have been like to actually get that applause.
Suddenly, everyone in the place began to clap. I had to tell them to
stop! Thankfully, when I spoke it, it worked. I got several strange
looks--most people would if a room full of people had just obeyed them
for no reason. Worried that I might draw undue attention to myself and
wanting to test my abilities further, I formed a gentle wish that
everybody would forget the whole incident. I found out later that they
did.

So, I began experimenting. I already knew that my power worked over
phone lines, or at least I thought that's why I was successful.
Speaking commands was the easiest way to make someone do something,
and trying to force a thought left me straining with my head in my
hands, wondering why it didn't work with thought only all the time.
Over the first few weeks, I found that the harder I tried, the harder
it was; but if I formed the command like I would form the command to
lift my arm--just a natural, easy command--it would work every time.

I experimented with this for a month and a half, and afterwards, I was
the master of making people do strange, funny, and interesting things.
The idea of sex was still far gone from my head when I tried my next
experiment two months into my "training:" some kind of telepathic
field.

The first thing I did was place a sign at the entrance that read
"Welcome to TeleCorp" but meant "you will not notice anything odd
about your behavior while here and will not remember any out-of-the-
ordinary things you do here when you leave." That would save me some
time, as I had been manually re-setting everybody every time I had
them do something truly out-of-character, like slapping a supervisor.

I had people skip instead of walk to the Men's Restroom by putting a
field that I could almost see (but nobody else noticed) at the
entrance to the building. After a couple of weeks of that, I decided
to push my luck, and added a command to the field to make the women
crawl to the Ladies Room. It was too much fun! I did have to tone down
my sales a bit to avoid suspicion, though. I was still not aware that
I could solve those problems as well--or, at least, I still had the
morality to not even try.

Then, I decided to have some real fun with my newfound power. After
all, you'd be surprised how many hot high-school and college girls
work in these places. First, the ugly girls were given paid vacation
(Let's just say I had recently gotten over my morality's objections to
shallow and lewd behavior). Then, the girls started taking off their
tops when they got on the phones. I made it so that I could wander
around unseen, and would periodically fondle, pinch, tweak, rub,--you
name it, I did it to their titties. Since they couldn't see me, you
can imagine the odd delight each of them felt.

It was around this time that I began experimenting on ways to alter
sensation, so I decided to make it so that when their nipple received
any contact from anything, they would feel it in their clits instead.
I just liked watching the topless girls jump up a bit.

All of this was "programmed," if you will, into that first field I'd
put at the doorway. I could clearly see the field now, and by gazing
into its color for a few seconds, I could see what it was doing to
whoever walked through. By changing the colors with some instinct I'd
discovered, I could alter what it did. But I digress.

On the day when I first fell into my official pit of debauchery, I
reached the first girl who worked there who I had a crush on--a cute
tanned 17-year old with D cup tits, way to big for her short frame--
and pinched her already hard, pink nipples. Immediately, she squealed,
and brought her hands to her crotch to stop the unwanted stimulating
fingers. But, her pants were still on, so she was very confused. I had
her pinch and tweak her own nipples, and watched in delight as she
leaned back in her chair, gyrating her hips up and down as her clit
was being attacked by two unseen hands. The sensation transfer from
nipple to clitoris was quite literal, something I learned later to
adjust for a more natural affect. As she continued to maul herself,
sweat poured off of her bare chest, and finally, she pinched really
hard and came--hard! She had almost passed out!

I had yet to develop any real style of control over how my
manipulations were perceived by my prey, so even though they were
confused as to why they would start to behave a certain way, once they
started, they didn't question exactly why they were doing it.

Her supervisor, a pretty 23 year old named Billie, came over to see
what the noise was all about. The two didn't get along. Even though my
mind-reading ability was rudimentary at best (I just had intuitions as
to what they were thinking, but their minds didn't have the "open
book" quality that I've since developed), I knew it was because Billie
didn't have big tits--hers were B cups at best. So, I decided to have
some fun.

I removed the normalcy command from Bethany (the hot 17 year old)
first, realizing for the first time just how natural it was to remove
specific perception commands, and I kept myself invisible to them.
Sitting down, I took complete control of Billie, something I'd tried
with other people on a few experiments that lasted only a few seconds,
and then made sure than Bethany would follow any command given at any
time by anyone at work. To gauge how this would make a normal person
who I'd never messed around with react, I made sure she would notice
that she had no choice but obey, no matter how hard she struggled.

As I peered through Billie's eyes at Bethany, the removal of the
"everything's normal" command had just set in, and she was started
freaking out about being topless--and about every girl within sight
being topless--when Billie (actually, me wearing her body) walked
over. Quickly, I sent a command to everyone not to notice us at all.
Instantly, a light blue field swallowed the three of us.

"Oh, sit down, don't move, and be quiet. What seems to be the trouble,
Beth?" Billie asked as she took down her panties from below her split
skirt. It took me awhile to learn how to remove the underwear... at
least, it seemed like a long time.

"What's going on? Where's my top? Why is everyone topless?" She asked,
and tried to get out of the chair to put some clothes on. "Why can't I
move? Oh ..." she said, finding that she could not do anything but sit
there--she could not even scream!

"Shut the fuck up, stand up, and get naked." I was trying to sound
like a dominatrix, and I hoped it was working. I probably sound
stupid, though, in hindsight. Quietly, and with a terrified and
confused look on her face, she did as she was told, revealing her
shaved pussy. "You can't cum until I let you, now come here." I'd read
that in a story I saw on the internet once, and I wondered what it
would really do. Anyway, she did as she was bade.

I/Billie grabbed her nipples hard and began to lightly torture them.
Bethany could not stop her in any way, but the sensations were driving
her insane. The fear and confusion as to why she was letting this all
happen was there, but her pussy was quivering at the stimulation she
felt in her tits and clit. "Rub your pussy." She began rubbing her
pussy, adding to the sensations, but as high as she got and as close
as she got, she would not cum. "Stop now," Billie said as she stepped
away from the shaking, lust-crazed teen. Beth stopped rubbing herself.

Rubbing my (Billie's) hand together to see what would happen when I
released the command, I said, "Cum." Beth exploded into an orgasm that
knocked her writhing ass off of the chair and onto the floor. When she
recovered, she automatically got back on the chair. I made her get off
the chair and get on all fours, and made my body move behind her. I
sure looked strange walking with my eyes closed. "You can speak
again."

"What's ... going ... on?" she panted, too exhausted to cover her
beautiful body.

"You're obeying my every whim," Billie said as she took off the rest
of her clothes and sat at the edge of Beth's chair. "Now, crawl over
here and eat my hot cunt." That word sounded dumb coming from Billie's
mouth. But, Beth understood.

"No!" Beth cried as she got on her hands and knees and made her way to
me--I mean, Billie. "I don't like girls please don't make me do this
please plmmmmmf" was all she got out before starting on Billie's
snatch. Her tongue probed up to the clit and back down to the bottom
of her pussy. She went side-to-side, and finally opened Billie's
flower with her fingers, stuck out her tongue, and began to tongue-
fuck her supervisor.

When the sensation was almost too much and when orgasm was near, I
came while still in Billie's body, which knocked my inexperienced mind
back into my own body, and leaving Billie a bit confused, a bit naked,
and a bit satisfied. She went back to her station and monitored the
stats in the call center again, as if nothing was wrong.

"Of course!" I said, as I realized two things: I had removed the
"normalcy" command from Beth alone, so Billie was still under its
spell. The other thing I realized was that I'd come in my pants. A bit
upset that I'd spent myself, I wondered how long it'd be before I
could have some fun with Beth. All sense of morality was lost. Looking
at my waning wood, I started setting up in my mind exactly how I was
going to have sex with Beth. As soon as I visualized the initial
penetration, my dick jumped to attention.

Still unseen, I crept up behind Beth's dripping cunt (a word better-
sounding when thought and not said) and put my cock at the entrance.
She was curious as to what the sensation at her pussy lips was, and
even managed to look behind her to see what it was. I knew she was not
a virgin, so I pressed forward, coaxing a surprised "Oooh!" from my
arousal-crazed victim.

As my cock pistoned in and out of her snatch, she did just what I
wanted her to do without me so much as thinking about it--she arched
her back and brought her shoulders up. Soon, she was palming the
floor, and just arching her back enough for me to reach around and rub
her tits. This actually made her buck up and down! She came more than
a few times in that position.

I was having so much fun that it took 10 minutes to figure out that
this fuck, which took me about a minute or two to complete in high
school, was nowhere near ending for me. I was having the time of my
life, but I wasn't near cumming, nor did I want to be; this was too
much fun.

After 30 minutes, I was starting to get tired. We had switched
positions several times till I found one that made her tits look the
best: missionary, with her calves on my shoulders and her ass lifted
off the floor. The natural mams just flowed up and down her chest in a
counterpoint to the rhythm of our humping. But, enough was enough. I
pulled out, and came--into her mouth! I'd fantasized about that
before, I didn't specifically make her do that. It's as if my power
were somehow aware of what I wanted before I was.

Not that I'd done it for the first time using my powers and not my
usual charming-sense-of-humor and liquor combination, I began to try
out the other ladies, one by one. I even expanded my horizons by
making two women make love while I did a third one. Soon, I was having
threesomes. I tried the mega-orgy thing once, something like girl on
girl on girl on girl on girl on guy, but it was a little much to
handle--not mentally, you understand; just too much to do at once. No
matter how comfortable I was in my power, I could still only be in one
place at once. But, after watching a porn one night (which I still
did, afraid that doing this stuff outside of a secure building would
be dangerous) featuring a lot of anal sex, I decided to go to my
favorite guinea pig and give it a try.

Beth didn't know what to think the next day, on all fours in the break
room. It felt like something moving in and out of her asshole, but it
was amazing! I was still invisible, and as I plowed her brown eye for
the first time, it dawned upon me that nobody had noticed me being
present for months. But, I hadn't been fired, thanks to some clever
commands I still don't remember sending. Anyway, she could hardly hold
her position on the table and was grunting loudly--it's a good think
I'd blocked the pain of the intrusion, and used a good lube. I kept
pounding her wonderfully tight hole when I got an idea.

Suddenly, Beth reached under herself and jammed three fingers into her
slit and began to fuck herself, making sure to rub her clit whenever
she could. Face to the table, embarrassed beyond all belief, she could
not understand why she was fucking her hand, what was in her ass, or
why it was the most amazing feeling in the world. Soon, though, the
pressure of her ass was too much for me, and I was about to cum. I had
her get onto her back, and I came all over her beautiful chest. She
felt the cum hit her chest and began to rub it in like lotion, but she
would never know why. Finally, I released her to her duties.

From there, I went a little nuts. Blowjobs were frequent, and I fucked
every hot girl in sight. Ugly girls quit the job one by one, and
pretty ones kept getting hired. Since I love women who love women,
each girl at work became a rabid bisexual who would fuck any other
girl at the slightest suggestion from anybody. The few other male
workers there--the luckiest men in the world--were in on the action,
although they didn't know it outside of the building.

I had it set up to where I was pretty much getting paid for fucking
anyone I wanted, and made it so that the girls on the phone could make
sales whenever they wanted--after all, if no work got done, we'd lose
our little party. But, after a few months, I got bored. Then,
something happened that would change my life forever.

I was being ridden by Billie, and gazing at her smallish boobs. I
wanted her to be happier about her body, and knew she hated the large-
chested girls who worked here, and I began to imagine how wonderful it
would look if she had a pair of D's on her nearly flat chest. In my
head, I visualized how they'd stick out, where they'd rest, how they'd
bob up and down as she walked, ran, or fucked... then I imagined them
growing. Another buzz came to my head, and as I looked, her tits
actually grew! They got to D's, and she stopped pounding my prick to
see what the heavy feeling in her chest was.

I quickly put her in a sort of suspended animation, and examined for
myself. After a few trials, I was able to visualize again the process
and reverse it, and her tits shrank. I put them back to D's after I
perfected the mental progress and commanded her not to notice. I put
her on her back and decided to take over, removing her mental block
and savoring the look of her new tits riding up and down her chest.
When I came on her chest, she rubbed the semen into her nipples,
bringing herself to another orgasm. Unfortunately, I had to shrink
them again so she could fit into her clothes and avoid suspicion when
she got home.

After a couple more months, I had mastered the art of sculpting a
body. I could enhance skin color, diminish unattractive features,
remove blemishes, control hair length and growth, etc. After
perfecting the entire staff, a task I had gotten down to just a few
minutes at the beginning of the day. I still changed each one back to
normal at the end of the day, leaving just enough of an improvement to
gradually bring them to visual perfection without arousing suspicion.

One day, I went to my office (I was, of course, now the boss) and
noticed a card that read, ORF. There was nothing else on the card, but
immediately I began to dial a phone number, entering extensions and
saying passwords that I'd never ever heard. Gazing harder at the card
while on hold, I noticed it had a field around it, but I could only
tell that it was colored--I couldn't read the color.

I made an appointment with William, a recruiter for ORF, for that
afternoon. It dawned on me after lunch, though, that I'd been
pondering my actions so much that day that I hadn't had sex yet. I
sent a mental command to Beth to strip, become horny, and stop by the
office. As she lowered her perfectly hairless, dripping snatch onto my
rod, I realized that I could not miss that meeting. I suckled eagerly
at her now brownish nipples, which complimented her now permanently
tanned skin. I reached around her heart-shaped ass and inserted a
finger, causing her pussy to tighten like a vice around my dick.

Her customized abdominal and leg muscles now made her a fucking
machine, capable of pounding down on any man with the same speed,
control, and ferocity that a man could pound her missionary-style. Her
cum-soaked thighs began to make sloppy slapping sound as she pounded
into my lap-this triple attack of her nips, ass, and pussy kept her in
an almost constant state of orgasm. After a few minutes of this
powerfuck, I sensed that if I didn't finish soon, I'd be late for the
meeting. Sending a mental command to Beth, I almost fell out of the
chair as she sped up her already frantic attack.

As I shot my load into her, her pussy pulsated and clenched so hard
that, upon standing up to return for work, it squeezed the last of my
cum from my dick.

She faced me and probably wanted to say something, but I had made her
the office fuck toy a month ago, ready to go in any way with any
person (or group) at my whim. She was fully aware and conscious while
at work, but unable to communicate her feelings in any way. She forgot
her work experiences when she left, but remembered them again when she
returned for work, which I made sure she would do for a very long
time. It was years later when I discovered how cruel that was. (It is
still a fun memory, though.)

Quickly, I got dressed, and went to 732 Taiga Street, an office
building that I had never noticed before. There, I was greeted by a
man who I knew had to be William. He lead me to a room and commented
on my quick progress, what with my learning to control my commands,
learning to embed commands color fields, and even breaking what he
called the "bioreality barrior," which was what allowed me to change
the bodies of anyone I wanted in any way. "And now," he said, "I'll
tell you why it works."

Over the next few hours, he went over the basics of how control really
works, what those fields really were, etc. To keep everything
straight, and at Will's behest, I started using terms that most people
in this group called "ORF" would know--like "charged" objects: things
that have been impregnated with a reality-bending command. It could be
anything from "If you touch this fork, your back will itch for a
minute or two" to "If you read this sign, you'll scratch your left
elbow." It almost took a computer-programming feel for me.

It was later that I learned that my gradual transformations, while
below most normal people's radars, are what got me caught; somebody
had gone to the doctor and that doctor had been part of a government
operation that was studying the transformations of various people
across the country. He told me that the government knew about it and
fought it with a small group of mind-control police, but that they
were so far below us that they didn't even know of our existence, even
though they tipped ORF off to most would-be super-brains, like me.
(The weaker ones that could be handled by the "thought police," as he
laughingly called them, were left to the government officials.)

Keeping all of this in mind, I began to wonder about my own split
personality on control and manipulation for sexual gratification. I
still had too much fun for most people to handle, but I was at least a
lot less cruel about it now. I've been told before that only my
uncanny ability to deal with the sex crimes without becoming
emotionally involved has kept me in the fold.

Mr. Bill was just as good as me back when we were both fixing Deletes
with Jenny, but he snapped and started a little battle, may best mind-
controlled army win. That battle involved guns, and too many people
died to justify his actions, if there ever was any justification. Bill
was still held captive somewhere in Germany, unaware of his captivity.
It took twelve of us in unison to take his powers away, and because of
the nature of our powers, we had to hide from his mind much of the
outside world because of the fear he'd discover how to use his powers
again.

Finishing my beer, I decided I would think about changing my ways...
but not too hard. Maybe I'd just be more discrete. Anyway, none of
this inspired me as to what was going on with controllers being
deleted, until I hit the Delete key on my machine, finally releasing
the message to an existence of randomly dispersed electrons skimming
the surface of a silicon chip.

It hit me, like a hammer: Deleters and Orfers. If you ignore pure
power level or talent, you basically have two groups: folks who have a
limited geographical range but can do almost anything within that
range, and the folks who have no conceivable range of influence but
are limited in all other ways save their ability to delve into
specific minds to remove specific memories with surprising accuracy.
They even could set up simple cover-up programs so the people wouldn't
notice who was missing and would make logical (to them) excuses when a
person's absence became apparent (like an extra bedroom and
possessions that suddenly belonged to nobody in particular). But,
nobody could do both well, if at all.

Jenny had the recent run-in with Mike, the guy who had almost broken
that barrier. Checking the database, I found that Mike was
strangely... not present. Not present at all! What the hell?

I did every search I could, and I still remembered the date of capture
and removal of powers. He was under the watch of two Feds (the
government guys I was told about by William years ago), who were...
were now living together in Kansas City, Missouri? A few phone calls
confirmed it. They were a homosexual couple fighting for same-sex
marriages. And, their families were now a pair of typical single-
parent homes. They'd been deleted, but not from me. Even though their
files had disappeared some time ago (no way to tell when, and that
itself was odd), I could still sense what numbers to call, where to
find them, and what they were up to. I could even see them.

There was only one problem with my discoveries: I was learning about a
pair of newly wed gay men in Kansas City, their families in New
Mexico, and a missing prisoner in Germany all at the same time--and I
had returned from the east coast to my home on the east side of the
Mississippi River, a couple dozen miles from St. Louis. On my best
day, I couldn't reach Kansas City, much less New Mexico. Hell, at ORF,
nobody has a range of influence much more than about a mile or so.

The only exception, of course, is if you bend a person's reality;
while that person must be in your range, everything in the world that
they've had some influence over (things they've touched or owned,
people who know them or have seen them, etc.) automatically fall in
line. But, Orfers have no control over exactly how those changes are
interpreted by the normal folks; usually, they just accept the new
reality as the way something always was. That's why we can't be
deleters. Also, we can't go into the mind of a woman who is on the
other side of the globe and make any specific changes.

That's when I felt my headache return, and I couldn't get rid of it.
Finally putting the pieces together, I looked around my living room
until I was facing the pain--it was right between my eyes. A
previously invisible braided rope was attached to my head, seemingly
going through solid matter and not sagging at all. It had pulses going
into my head that were now being stopped at my skull.

Forcing a pulse of my own, I sent out a sheath around the rope racing
towards the source. It took about five minutes of searing pain, but I
found... something. Changing the color of my sheath to the opposite
color of the rope (it was red, so I went green), I formed a quick
questionnaire. Sending it down the pike, I was surprised how quickly
it came back to me with some vital, but incomplete, information.

Of course, I was more surprised to find that I was on the floor and 3
hours had passed. The rope was gone, as was my headache. I went to
bed, setting up an experimental delete shield, just in case (it was
mechanical, and don't ask me how they ever got it to work). I would
work on this tomorrow, when I found Seth... who I realized had been
deleted a long time ago without anybody in ORF noticing. Maybe we
weren't so powerful... * * * * * * * * * *

Mike picked himself up off the floor, the drool on his cheek hanging
from his open mouth dripping onto his shirt. He wiped it with his
sleeve, and wished he'd picked up a slave to lick it off. "No more of
that shit. There's a war. War. Waaaa..." he managed before passing out
again.

He knew already that he was the first deleter who could exhibit ORF-
like powers; he had collected enough deleters to do a globe-wide
search for knowledge in a telepathic network he invented. It did have
the unfortunate side-affect of killing a telepath after a short
while--
apparently, delete powers were easier on the mind if it was sending
information and not gathering it. What bothered him was the fact that
there might be an Orfer who was starting to get Deleter-style powers.
That had to be stopped, as soon as he could wake up.

The next day, after being in a coma for about a day, Mike got up
again. He went to the shower to formulate a plan and wash himself--he
had emptied his bladder and bowels during his slumber. Damn. "I hope
whatever that asshole got from me was worth the mess."

                          * * * * * * * * * *

(c) 2002, bobwhite.  All rights reserved.  All wrongs also reserved.