I realize this story could land in any of a number of categories. I hope this choice doesn't offend you.
Roger Waters: "There's someone in my head but it's not me."
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It was just a few months ago, a normal weekend double header. My name is Brent and I play college baseball for a division I school.
I'm a true junior, play center field, and bat clean-up. I lead the league in home runs and hit by pitch. After parking a ball earlier in the game, I got plunked, smack in the ear hole of my helmet.
It had stunned me, but not enough to stop me from tackling the SOB and getting a few good shots into his chin. The benches cleared and our coach gave a few of us one game suspensions. We wouldn't play again until next weekend's doubleheader so no big deal. This upcoming doubleheader was against a weak team and I sometimes sat a few innings of those games anyway.
I had a headache that night and it just wouldn't go away. I checked my pupils and they looked normal, so I didn't say a thing to the trainers. If you want to ride the pine, complain about health issues. Once you complain they 'have to respond'. That means you sit and someone else gets to play. We all play through our injuries. We LOVE to play. I popped pain pills, every day, but the headache persisted.
It was at our pregame lunch that I first noticed it. They served us hamburgers again, and mine was overcooked. I thought 'I should spit this out' and the shortstop, sitting next to me, spit his mouthful out. An assistant coach reamed him and made him clean up the mess.
Since I had to sit that game, I was bored. The umpire on third had a cool beard and I thought 'I wonder how I'd look with a beard'. The backup catcher, sitting next to me, started stroking his face, like he was thinking the same thing. Two coincidences in one afternoon? I decided to experiment. I wandered around the dugout thinking 'My neck itches.' Three of the ten guys in the dugout scratched their neck. Counting the backup catcher, that was four out of eleven. As the players came into the dugout, between innings, I did the same test with them. Three of the nine players, including the shortstop, scratched their neck. Almost one third were responding to my suggestion. One out of three people were puppets I could manipulate.
I changed my suggestion to 'Blink' and repeated the test. The same people, who had scratched their neck, blinked. My mind was racing. What kind of trouble can I get into with this? I picked on the backup catcher. I thought 'face itches' and he scratched his face. 'Blink' and he blinked. 'Lick lips' and he did. 'Yawn' and he yawned. 'Cough' and he did. This is so cool. I started measuring how close I had to be to make it work. Five feet seemed to always work. Eight feet away was iffy. I confirmed my measurements with some of the others in the dugout.
With my one game suspension over, I warmed up for the second half of the double header. My concentration was not what it should have been, but nobody seemed to notice. In my first at-bat, with a runner on third and two outs, they intentionally walked me. When I reached the base I looked at the first baseman and thought 'Blink'. He did. I led off, trying to draw a throw. I heard the coach yell 'BACK' and, as I dove back into the base, I thought 'DUCK'. The first baseman took cover and the ball bounced off his shoulder and into right field. The run scored and I made it to third. This was going to be fun.
I led off the fifth with a solo shot. When I came to bat in the seventh, the pitcher threw at my butt. I turned away and it struck me in the hamstring. The umpire tossed the pitcher and I trotted down to first.
After the game, as I walked by the female assistant trainers, I mentally repeated 'Blink'. Jenny Harden was the only one to blink. Since she wouldn't date any of the jocks, we assumed she was a lesbian. Come on, we are studs. Well we think we are anyway. I waited for her table to open. As she was rubbing out my hamstring I mentally repeated 'rub cock'. I was rewarded with a few stealthy gropes.
"Miss Jenny, if you don't stop that you're going to get a surprise."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Forget I did that."
"Tell you what; come over to my place at nine, and I'm sure you can make me forget it ever happened."
She caused me great pain, digging her fingers into my hamstring "Okay."
Let's just say, even if Jenny is a lesbian, she gives great head. It might not have been her idea, but she wasn't able to think straight. She didn't much care for me filling her mouth. I may have forgotten to warn her. Serves her right for digging into my bruised hamstring.
I had trouble sleeping, thinking about all the pussy I was going to get. It's not like I was having a lot of trouble getting pussy. Since high school the girls available to me, with just a wink, were groupies. They saw me as a meal ticket. In my mind they were all gold diggers, hoping I would sign some high dollar baseball contract. Of course, none of this stops me from bonking a different chick every weekend.
I think I have some morals. I hope that, when I do have a girlfriend, I will be monogamous. Not having a girlfriend has prevented me from testing that theory.
After my morning workout, in the weight room, I went shopping for a large box of condoms. There was only one cashier working. I waited in line behind two ladies with loaded shopping carts. Behind the last lady in line I thought 'Blink'. Nothing. Dammit, too bad this doesn't work with everyone. She cursed as she checked her list and pulled out of line. Well that works too. I moved up in line and tried it again. 'Blink'. Nothing from the lady but both of her kids blinked.
'Gotta pee' 'Gotta pee'.
"Mom, I have to pee."
"Me too mom."
"Kids, come on, were almost done, can't it wait?"
'Gotta pee' 'Gotta pee'
"Mom, I can't hold it, hurry."
Exasperated she pulled out of the line and headed towards the restrooms. I sailed through checkout. The cashier was kind of cute so I tried 'Blink'. Nothing. Oh well.
I put a few condoms in my pocket and headed to the cafeteria. I strolled around thinking 'Blink'. Much like the dugout, one out of three were puppets. I chose a tall, slender, but shapely, brunette. She had dark hair and big brown eyes. She was reading what looked like a math or physics book.
I sat at a forty five from her and started thinking 'Flirt'. She would look up from her book and smile. I thought 'Hello'.
"Hi, I've seen you around but can't place you."
"I'm Brent. I play on the baseball team and work out in the weight room."
I started thinking 'Walk with me'.