2

I drove back into civilization, passing shopping centers on the Spanaway border. I was a mix of excitement and exhaustion. I felt like I could sleep the day away, but I was far too excited to sleep. Seeing one of the many Starbucks that seemed to be on every street corner in Washington, I realized I could kill two birds with one stone. Get some desperately needed caffeine and test out my powers. I pulled into the parking lot and walked inside.

I was nervous as I entered. Doubt wracked my mind. All the confidence and certainty I felt watching the sun rise had evaporated. This wasn't going to work. Last night was a dream. A hallucination. Some horribly elaborate prank at my expense. Possibly with hidden cameras and some Ryan Seacrest look-a-like about to ambush me and broadcast my humiliation to the world as part of some terrible reality TV show.

The Starbucks was crowded with people heading off to work. Three baristas worked the shop. A nerdy looking guy and two, attractive women, all dressed in the baggy polo shirts, black tucked into black pants, and black hats. All wore the green aprons with the Starbuck's mermaid embroidered in white. One of the barista's, who's name tag read “Cynthia”, was a tall women, mid twenties, with black hair cut short in a vaguely punkish style. Her nose was pieced and a second piercing was in her right eyebrow. Her dark eyes, hair cut, and piercings gave her face a certain predatory wildness. The second female barista, Esther according to her name tag, was a little short than Cynthia. She had long, auburn hair pulled back into pony tail, and her heart-shaped face was dotted with freckles. She was maybe nineteen or twenty and had the most beautiful smile, complete with cute dimples.

I got in line behind a cute twenty-year old. Curly, brunette hair fell about her purple hoodie covered shoulders. My eyes traveled down her back to stare at perky ass covered by a jean skirt. Long, tan legs, well-toned, peaked out the frayed edges of the skirt. Staring at the bubbly ass, I wanted to reach out and squeeze it. My was cock hardening.

Gathering my courage my courage, I croaked out, “Hi.”

The brunette turned, eyes me up and politely smiled, before turning back.

I can do this, I told myself. You're a new man. Reborn. I cleared my throat. “Hi, I'm Micheal. What's your name?”

This time the brunette's smile was far friendlier. “Vivian Anders,” she said. Her voice had a smokey, sultry quality about it.

This was going to work. “What color are your panties?”

Vivian blinked, clearly taken-aback. “White, with pink polka dots.” Her tan face flushed. “Why did I say that,” she whispered, mortified.

“It's all right,” I told her. I grinned. It worked. “You want to please me, don't you. Nothing makes you happier than to please me.”

She nodded, embarrassment fading, smile growing. “What else can I do for you, Micheal?”

“Can I have everyone's attention!” I yelled. The entire shop full of people turned to face me. “The coffee-shop is closed now. Everyone except the staff and Vivian, here, need to leave. Staff, lock up the store and close the blinds.”

There was some grumbling, and a few clearly seemed confused as they walked out the shop, wondering why they were listening to some random guy. The staff seemed even more confused as they started to lock up and close the store blinds. “Who are you?” asked the male barista, who's name tag read “Ethan.”

“Micheal,” I answered. “And we're going to have a party.” Cynthia gave me a wicked smile, Esther a nervous smile. Vivian bounced on her heels in excitement, clearly eager to please me.

Once the store was locked up, I gathered everyone together. I handed my smart phone to Ethan. “You're going to film this,” I told. “You're not going to speak, make noise, get in the way. You're just going to film. You're not going to get excited or aroused. Okay.”

Ethan nodded, brows furrowed in confusion. But he took the phone, and he didn't say a word. I turned to the ladies and smiled at them. “Vivian, Esther, and Cynthia, from now one, nothing in the world makes you happier than to please me.”

“What would please you, Micheal?” Cynthia purred, licking her lips. She was definitely a wild girl.

“How about you lovely ladies take off your clothes,” I answered. “Let me see those hot bodies of yours.