Miss Cara leans in close to Stacy, keeping her panties on the girl's nose. "I'm going to have Becca come in here now, blindfolded. This way, she won't know you're here," Cara explains, slowly running her tongue up and down Stacy's neck. Oh god. Oh, fuck me, never stop. I want to cum. Stacy shakes and trembles from the erotic attention Miss Cara is giving her. The warm, moist lace against her nose makes her feel almost euphoric. Her little bead presses against the smooth, steel belt, yearning for tender friction. "I'm going to have her do naughty things to me while you watch," Cara whispers, her hot breath filling Stacy's ear. "No," Stacy whines, her body aching all over. "You can't." "But, Stacy, you've got my pussy dripping. I'm yearning for a sexy, young woman to come into my bed and fuck me." Cara looks over Stacy's trembling body. "I just don't think you're up for that, yet." Stacy writhes in her belt, locked to the wall. Her cunt throbs wetly between her legs, begging her to do. I believed, and was right, that the pain was a side effect off trying to access my memories concerning both incidents. The abilities I had so far discovered resonate from the right, front area of my brain. When I tried to access my abilities, like seeing the image I had seen in the bathroom, it was a strain, to both body and mind, and forced me to rest. Strange then, that when I was almost hit by the car or when I stopped the glass, neither times did I have the same problem. I understood that what had happened was instinct, just that. What I had done was not to think about stopping them, it was instinct, a simple emotional response. Like when someone slips on ice, they instinctively hold their arms out to grab something, get their balance or break their fall. I think that when the car approached, I would have been scared, prayed, begged for the car to stop, just like anybody else. However, when I did, the car did in fact stop. But in the bathroom, I had a brief unconscious glimpse of.
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