Owen Valser, Man with a Magic Mouth

Hard -1, Hot +2, Cool +1, Control -1

Mind Control: You can **** her with hot.

Eat Pussy: You can fuck her with hot. You don't cum.

Your week has been pretty strange so far. On Monday, you woke up at 4 in the morning feeling like someone had poured liquid fire in your throat. You couldn't speak, you could barely eat, and you couldn't stop sweating or shaking; this sort of hell went on for two days before it finally calmed down. You couldn't make it out to the doctor (you didn't trust yourself to drive) and really didn't want to call 911 unless you felt like you were dying (though at times it was very tempting). You barely managed to leave a message for work, taking off for the week, before devolving into a disgusting fit of coughing.

On Wednesday, you awoke feeling fine, great even! You weren't sure what had happened to cause your mouth and neck to hurt like that, but all that remained now was a pleasant tingle and a weird sort of sensitivity. The breakfast that you has put together that morning tasted amazing! You always had enjoyed bacon and eggs, but today the flavor was just... better in all ways. It was a little strange, but you had just chalked it up to having finally had a decent meal for the first time since Sunday.

The strangeness continued that afternoon, when you went out to sign for a pizza you had ordered. You considered going back to work, but you were due for a vacation at any rate. When you had gone outside to get your lunch, a cute delivery girl was standing outside your apartment complex, waiting for you. You chatted with her for a second as you fumbled with your wallet, flirting a bit as you attempted to calculate a decent tip in your head. In the end, you were just about to hand over the money when you joked "But really, I think you like me enough to just give me that pizza for free."

Her face had scrunched in up confusion, brow knitting together and lips puffing up into a little pout. Looking her over, you decided that she wasn't just cute; she was pretty hot. She couldn't have been older than 20; if you had to guess, she was probably 19 and doing pizza delivery driver as her first real job during college. She was a few inches shorter than you, about 5'7", and she had a nice figure, though the pizza franchise uniform did her no favors: A typical polo, slightly stretched out over her chest ("She's probably a C cup," whispered the part of your brain that was always concerned for that sort of thing), a pair of shorts ending mid-thigh, and a pair of comfy sneakers. Her hair, tied back into a single ponytail, reminded you of hazelnut, as did her eyes.

Finished checking her out, you noticed that she was holding the box out for you to take. "Here you go, sir. One medium pepperoni and mushroom, on the house."

That took you back for a second. "Wait... really?"

She nodded, smiling at you. Was that a bit of blush? "I think you're right. I do kind of like you enough to give you this pizza for free..." Her feet shuffled together as she broke eye contact. No, you couldn't have...

You take the pizza from her, still in shock, as she stepped up a little closer to you. She took a pen out of her pocket and began writing on the box. "I'll pay for this, but you'll have to make it up to me." She finished quickly and took a little hop away from you. Looking down at the box, you saw her name, Sarah, written above her phone number. When you looked back up, she was already halfway back to the delivery car. She caught your eyes once more as she twirled around and flashed you a blinding smile. "I get off at 4. Call me!"

And with that, you were left with a warm pizza, a girl's number that there was no way you were smooth enough to receive, and a slowly growing erection