Probably best to act casual.

"N-Nothing," you manage. Amanda gives you a quizzical look, as though she doesn't quite believe you.

"Hm," Is all she gives in reply. Despite her skepticism, she returns to her cereal, evidently ready to drop the line of questioning. The two of you eat breakfast in silence for a minute, and the dream hangs heavy in your mind as though it weren't a dream at all. In fact, your mind feels _extra _heavy, like you're tired. The feeling doesn't shake, even though you aren't yawning and feel perfectly awake. After a moment you begin to feel something else: a pulse just inside your forehead. You rub your head and focus on the sensation, and it feels as though you can ever so slightly twist and shape the feeling at the front of your mind. Your eyes are closed as you think, but open at a sharp intake of breath from Amanda. You give her a look, and notice her cheeks look a little flushed.

"You okay Amanda?" The question hangs for a second as she composes herself.

"Yeah," she responds, tightening in her chair a bit. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me." Her behavior is odd -- and furthermore, it strikes you that she looks vaguely confused. You return to the feeling in your mind, and as you twist that shape again you see her shiver.

"Is it cold in here to you?" she asks, wrapping her arms up around herself. You glance at the thermostat.

"Nope," you reply, now joining her in confusion. "It's 72." Amanda looks dismayed, but returns to her cereal with another light shiver. The shape in your mind flexes slightly. After a moment the pieces begin to fall into place, and you bend and twist the shape back into the shape it was in a moment ago. Amanda eats in silence for a moment, and relaxes.

"Huh," She says quietly, looking up at you. "Guess I just felt cold for a second." Whatever that woman said in the dream evidently works, although not just for sexual responses. Of course, your being horny, that's the next thing you decide to try. You find your bearings on the feeling in your mind, and give it a gentle nudge. Amanda makes a quiet sound, almost like a heavy sigh, and then looks embarrassed. You can feel the shape change with her feeling, and you smooth over the embarrassment. Amanda returns to eating her cereal, unfazed. You decide to see what else you can do, beyond just the manipulations of the shape.

"Hey Amanda," you say, setting down your cereal, "can I ask you a weird question?" She looks up, and finishes a bite.

"Yeah, shoot."

You decide to ask a question that wouldn't be _that _out of the ordinary for a couple of college age friends, just in case you're imagining things.

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever been turned on by?"

Amanda giggles and puts rests her chin on her hand. She gives a sarcastic look, like she's deep in thought. Despite her joking look, the shape took on a reflection, like an image seen through a pond's surface. It looked like a wedding, somewhat recently. Images of a beautiful mansion's entryway flashed against the shape. You can feel her start to put the memory away, but you hold the shape still, and she hesitates.

"Um," she says with a slight laugh, "well. . ."

You can see her struggle against not wanting to answer directly, and feeling strange within herself. You look at her carefully and speak flatly.

"Amanda, I want you to answer."

With that statement, you feel the shape loosen and respond. Amanda goes from looking apprehensive to normal again, and without your prompting the reflections on the shape to stay.

"Oh, well honestly, it was this weird stuff at my cousin's wedding." Amanda's previously normal avoidance of a question had vanished, leaving only a willing answer in its place. You deduce that it was your statement that changed things, although your manipulation of the shape seemed to help.

"What weird stuff?" you ask in response.

"Well I was a little buzzed from that morning -- college kids at a wedding and all -- and I was helping my cousin get into her dress with some of the other girls our age. I usually get pretty turned on just by being buzzed, but the room we were in was making it way worse. There were all these nice gold decorations, like the rails on the bed, the arms of the chairs, the nice hairbrushes and things she was using to get ready . . . I kept staring at them, until I figured that what I wanted was to get myself off with them." The admission came freely, and she looked like she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. You let go of the shape in your mind, surprised at the answer, and her embarrassment returned. "Wow I can't believe I told you that."

"Oh, it's fine," you say in response. "You were honest, that's. . ." You trail off, looking at her cute face of embarrassment, searching for the right word. "Cute." The shape bends again, from within.

"Well. . . I'm glad you think so." She says, looking down at her cereal with a blush. You feel the shape grow warmer, and see her blush a bit. Either she was regretting the admission, or she was turned on by it. You look at her intently again.

"Does admitting that turn you on?" The question lingers for a second, and you feel the shape flow back to the way it was when you spoke earlier. Evidently you can tell when your words are influencing her. She looks up, and brushes a stray bunch of hair over her ear.

"Yeah, it does," She replies sheepishly. You can feel your cock twitch at her innocent look.

"And what are you feeling right now?"

The shape shifts, and honest answer coming from the **** you exert over her.

"Honestly, I just need to get off right now."

You smile, the answer being just what you wanted to hear. Although it's tempting to exert a more direct **** over her, you decide that for your own fun, you should tease her.

"Well Amanda, I think that's not a bad idea. But you can't get off without my say-so, unfortunately." Amanda blushes again, and looks down with a smile.

"I know," she says, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Why don't you come put up your bowl," you say, gesturing to her breakfast. "That cereal is probably done for at this point." She nods her agreement, and gets up, taking the bowl to your sink and rinsing it out. As she does so, you admire her firm ass through her pajama pants, and come up alongside her. You hold the shape still in your mind, willing it to remain the same, and take Amanda's ass in your hand. It feels perfect, toned from years of dance classes, and Amanda doesn't react at all, continuing to wash out the bowl. You give it a firm slap, and glance up at Amanda. Again, no response. Releasing the shape, you get another handful of her ass, and this time Amanda moans in response, on instinct bending slightly to push more firmly into your hand.

"Mmmmm. . ." She breathes, giving you a confused look, "What are you doing?" You look back at her, a firm look in your eyes.

"Oh nothing," you say, ready to embrace your power more. "But right now it would be super helpful for you to clean my kitchen."

Amanda nods in agreement, and returns to the sink, beginning to do more of the dishes that have accumulated next to it. As she does so, you continue to knead her ass and thighs, enjoying the way they feel beneath your hand. Amanda lets a couple more moans escape as you do so, but doesn't stop her work.

"Still wanting something to get off with?" you ask, hand resting on her hip. She nods, continuing the dishes. "Well then I'll need you to take off your pajamas and panties." Amanda pauses her work, gives you a look while biting her lip, and lowers her pajamas and panties to the floor. She steps out of them, and returns to her task as you toss the discarded clothing to the side and return to your exploration of her body. She continues to wash dishes as you begin to stroke her outer lips, the entire area between her thighs damp from her arousal. As you explore her folds with your hand, Amanda begins to softly groan and push back onto your fingers, as if to pull them deeper within her. You flick her clit and watch her struggle with the dishes. Her knuckles are white from gripping the dishes tightly, trying not to drop them as you pleasure her.

"Do you like that I'm making you work," you ask, "and watching you edge yourself with my fingers?" You don't exert any new **** over her, and see if she's really as enthusiastic as her dripping slit seems to indicate. Surprisingly, the shape remains as hot and malleable as it was before, and Amanda nods. She's moaning and biting her lip, evidently trying to keep herself composed and quiet while she did as you asked. Surprisingly, it appears that she's as into this as she would be if it had happened naturally. You're pleased with yourself internally, that she likes you enough to be turned on without much help from you besides overcoming social customs.

"Well then," you say, fingering her more deeply with one hand, while you reach around her silky hip to flick her clit with the other, "I suppose you can cum then." Amanda's attempt at doing the dishes fails, and she drops one in the sink, clutching the side of the counter to keep herself from falling. She moans loudly, her body shaking as an intense orgasm passes through her, and she pushes herself down onto your fingers to prolong the feeling. Your cock is rock hard as you watch her shake and twist in your grasp, her breathy cries echoing in the quiet of your apartment. You give her a moment of calm as the orgasm subsides, and she struggles to stay on her feet.