Damn, she was still hot. A little drunk, too, by the look ofit. And he realised he was, too. Somewhere in that sweet spot betweensobriety and being too drunk to actually have fun. In his state, lookingat her flirty smile, he was pretty happy."I...I do," he stammered, "I mean, did. I did have a crush on you,Sabrina."She tutted him. "That's Miss Ford." Yes. Sorry, Miss Ford." You've barely looked at me all night. But I've been watching you. Why doyou keep checking out your own ass?"He started to blush. Jesus, had it been that obvious?"I...it...Miss Ford I-"She touched his butt and he tensed. Her palm caressed his ass for asecond, and she withdrew with a smile.Shit, he thought. Had she felt the elastic of his panties? She was awoman. He was sure she had. To a woman it would be so obvious.For some reason he stared at her hand. No ring on her finger.The smile on her beautiful face turned to a wicked glint."Why, Alan, are you looking for a wedding ring?"His blush was getting deeper, and he. Damon stopped his descent telekinetically and brought him back in, prodding #5 to kick him in the balls once for his initiative."Master makes all decisions now." Slave #1 said. #4 and #5 nuzzled affectionately at Damon's cock through his pants."That's right." Damon said, putting the two slaves to sleep. He levitated them and lay them on their backs on the table. Touching his hands to any part of their bodies he didn't want hair to grow, he killed the follicles with psi ability, leaving them bald in those places. He then put his hands on the girls' chests and redirected what scant fat cells he could find to their breasts. The board watched in awe as each girl's breasts grew--slightly but noticeably. While they were gawking, Damon reached his mind out, taking hold of those of his audience. Those who had had anything to do with the planning of the attack at the company picnic received the same fate as the hit squad. The remainder had their worldview radically altered--and now Damon was.
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