If I looked miserable and terrified and as deeply humiliated as I felt, well, nobody would think it was very funny then! The irony wasn't lost on me a... I realized that perhaps only my dad, who was in fact the only real fearless man I'd ever met, could have appreciated the iron discipline and sheer bravery required to strut across some forty plus yards of wide open library in front of at least a hundred grinning, laughing, whispering, finger pointing, mocking teenagers."Those are my clothes!". "Should I try to lift it or something?" Yes," Harley begged. "Lift it up." But slowly," Bud cautioned. "Remember that your mind can imagine it moving faster than physics will allow for, and the results of failure can be unpredictable and dangerous."So I took a breath and lifted the small block of Bakelite with my telekinetic talent. I made it rise slowly, inches at a time until it was hovering six feet over my head. While I had it safely overhead where it would be less likely to cross paths. I kissed the back of her neck, and told her that she had done well. Our sessions were planned on a repeating theme of punishment and reward, so I decided a reward was due. I stood up, told her to lie on her back and spread her legs. She did as she was told, exposing a warm, pink, moist pussy that I was going to enjoy. I love going down on women, and I decided to reward her with a good licking, I stood at the end of the bed, and steadied myself over her, slowly moving my head up her legs long. My britches were dappled with it and my arms, as well as much of the floor, were covered with it. I left a trail of gore in the hallway. There were even a few spots of blood on the woman's white shift as she sat frozen in place, her hand to her mouth, horrified. The fight had lasted perhaps half a minute, but I felt drained and sexually stimulated, an odd combination."Is he dead?" she asked softly.I nodded and dumped her husband's body into the room, relieved the man with the sword through him.
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