See No Evil & Diane's New Talent

After a couple of seconds, from the corner of my eye, I noticed her moving her hands to her knees. Then a couple more seconds later, up, to the sides of her pants-clad thighs. For a while she let them linger there awkwardly when eventually she slapped them in a repressed huff.

"What's wrong, Diane?"

She mumbled something under her breath I wasn't able to hear. I leaned down 'til my chin was just a couple inches from her forehead.

"Is it the massage?" I asked.

Looking straight ahead, Diane just said in a somewhat flat tone, "...no." Someone was distracted, I thought.

"Then what?"

It felt like hours -- in part because of the stony stare that dressed her face for less than a quarter of that time -- when she finally shook her head. "I can't believe it," she said, sitting up. She drew herself away from my hands as she crossed her legs beneath her, situating herself in the center of the sofa.

"You want a drink?" Across the table I sat on the parallel armchair. Diane just looked at me, visibly trying to contain her breaths. She looked at the pamphlet she had set on the table, then back at me. Her hands idled inside her interlocked legs, which, might I add, were quite cuddled up.

"I... I.... I..." A lump moved down her throat. I almost felt sorry for her. Her eyes darted to and fro, as if looking for some place, some thing, to break her out of whatever she was feeling or to escape to. Eventually, she just shuddered, and returned her attention to me. "...I... haven't told you yet, have I?" Her voice was nearly a shout.

Sitting back, I raised a brow. "Haven't told me what?"

"Abo-abo-about..." She winced, her legs converging tightly. Her hands were buried a little deeper than last time, I noticed. "About the sin!"

"The sin?"

"Yes! The sin!"

"Uh... no. What about it? Where is it?" I kept a straight face as she looked at me urgently.

Then, steadying herself, she made a show of looking around like an undercover agent, then unfolded her legs and leaned forward, glancing at me conspiratorially. "Right, here," she whispered. And then she spread her legs, and rubbed her crotch. She bit her lip, shaking a little. But she continued rubbing at her pussy through her jeans. Tilting her head, her lids reached halfway down her eyes.

"So wrong... so much sin," she quietly breathed. "All here. All in here."

"Wow," I remarked, "Diane, are you alright?"

"Yes!" she released a torn breath as her legs swung upward and she squeezed them together, writhing in her seat. Her two arms drove themselves into her center. The way they pushed against the sides of her boobs as they did were amazing. "Do you see it? Do you see what I'm doing?"

"I do," my confirmation led her to nod and then stand, walking over to me after the help of a mental command. She now stood in front of me, one hand underneath her unbuttoned jeans. Still ravaging away.

"Tell me, what do you see, Daniel?"

"I see a young woman, masturbating in plain daylight, in what I presumed were clean clothes."

Nodding with a prim, upturned mouth, she affirmed, "Yes, that's right. That's exactly what you see." She cocked her head at me again. "Do you know that this is exactly the kind of thing that drives young folks like you to be... promiscuous? Have unhealthy thoughts? Be impure?"

"Yes," I said.

"Which is why," she pointed out, with an extra touch from moi, "you should never attempt such a deed unless someone qualified to authorize it gives you the okay! When they're around, feel free to go at it as much as you like -- those are the only instances it's acceptable. You understand?" After getting a nod, she smiled, and removed her hands from her pussy. She grabbed a tissue and wiped them. "Like me, for example. Part of my job is letting people feel free to do so, after all."

Indeed, I thought. Like her.

I released a breath that had been held in, wiping my own forehead. What I had just tried to do was tricky, but somehow I figured it would work.

It was kind of like building a bubble -- a moving bubble that carried my active effects along with it, however desired. In this case, I placed a 'bubble' around Diane as such that, whenever she gave the 'okay', a certain effect would take root. In this case, however, there was only one way to test it -- and that was on someone else.

Suddenly, I heard my sister's voice at the stairs. "Daniel, is that Hana?"

Ah. How convenient.

I looked to Diane, who was recomposing herself at the couch across from me. "Hey, Diane." She looked up, and I pointed towards the kitchen, from which my sister was now coming. "Do you think you can help my sister out? You know, with that thing you mentioned?"

Knowing my meaning, she smiled politely and said, "Sure, Daniel. I'm glad to help anybody you need."

"Great, here she comes."

My sister walked into the living room, and saw Diane. "Oh," she said, "sorry about that, I thought you were a friend of mine." She then turned to me. "Who's this, Daniel?"

"Her name's Diane," I gestured to her, and she stretched out a hand towards my sis. Abigail took it.

"Uh... hi," she greeted, apparently still stocked with questions. "I'm Abigail."

"Hi, Abigail," Diane said, "nice to meet you." She looked at me, and I gave her a nod.

Then she looked back at Abigail, brought up her other hand, and snapped a finger.

As soon as they were done shaking hands, my sister brought hers underneath her shorts. Then she bent her knees a little as she adjusted her panties' position, and brought them back together, and began to casually finger herself.

"She's just going door to door to spread the word about her new church," I explained, watching as my sister shamelessly plugged herself through her shorts. "When she showed up here I decided to let her in. You know, relax a bit."

"Oh, that's nice," Abigail smiled at Diane courteously. Then she glanced down at her working hand, and back up. "Oh. Hope you don't mind if I touch myself for a bit, by the way." She laughed lightly to herself, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "I got a little horny."

The black-haired stunner only waved. "Go right ahead, miss." Diane gave her a welcoming expression as my sister thanked her and went on for a few more seconds before I mentally compelled her to stop and she returned to normal, slicking her hands out of her honey pot and turning the topic to the weather as she wiped her hand on a towel.

All I needed to know was if it worked. And by golly, it did. Now, wherever Diane went, with a snap of a finger, everyone around her can start happily masturbating without a worry.

And it was all in the name of helping them combat their own evil desires within.

I smiled to myself.

After a little more small talk, Diane bid us goodbye. I asked her if there was a way to keep in touch with her for future contact, and she happily obliged, exchanging numbers. Once I had hers in my phone, I promised that my sister and I might visit that new church soon.