Jaycee's Blog - Thu, Jan 6

So how have I used my powers in the last few days? Honestly, while flying is a fair bit of fun, it's not quite as exciting when you do it by yourself. And superpowers are cool, but they're not all that useful when there's no crime to fight or when you get there after the fact.

I did catch one instance of domestic violence and showed up before the police did. The man's wife was pretty bruised by the time I showed up, but fortunately she had no serious wounds. He tried hurting me, but of course did no damage. I probably could have disabled him using some mind-blowing orgasms, but I thought it'd be more "fun" to control his mind and have him slap himself. He complied while I had him sit down so I could tie him up properly until the cops arrived.

So yay me.

But things suddenly got WAY more fun when I heard about the Quebec influencers having this incredible party on a chartered Sunwing plane (boozing, smoking, standing up in the aisles, dancing, and not wearing masks). I heard some of them had managed to book a flight to come back and land in Montreal last night. I flew to Montreal (which took no more than an hour) and waited for some of them. Most were aggressively entitled and telling everyone around them to fuck off. One (for obvious reasons) caught my attention:

She gave the journalists the finger and even cut ahead of people at the taxi waiting line (she "knew" someone and joined him, though it was clear she wasn't going to split a cab with him). I was a few meters away, blending with the crowd, when I started messing with her a little bit.

First, I started off with some mild hand control, occasionally directing her to jiggle her boobs or pull on her pants (causing a rather visible camel toe). She didn't notice (because I didn't let her), but some people around her did and snickered. Then I mentally urged her to get increasingly turned on. Her nipples popped visibly and enough wetness flowed between her thighs to become more noticeable. She became aware of her predicament and told her friend she had to go, but somehow her feet were rooted there and she wasn't moving. It must have gotten pretty bad, though, because she was squirming a lot. I ordered her right hand to start massaging her crotch over her clothes. She stared in horror as it obeyed, causing a blend of shocked gasps and cheers from the crowd in the line up.

It got gradually "worse" for her after that. I had her lift her shirt to expose her boobs and play with her excited nipples. I spotted security guards on their way (a man and a woman) and got worried they were going to interrupt the fun. I hit them both with explosive orgasms and they shuddered on the floor while I returned my attention to Purple Girl. She was moaning as her excitement was near its peak. Her (male) friend wasn't under my control, but he showed some initiative and reached for her crotch, which he caressed with enthusiasm. I had him pull her leggings down and forced her to do the same to him. Soon, they were naked from the waist down, confused but obviously aroused.

I didn't do anything else to them, other than cranking up their libido to eleven. They stopped caring about where they were. She jumped into his embrace, locked her legs around his waist, and lowered herself onto him. They went at it right there like wild weasels. Almost everyone around them was recording their actions.

They wanted social media attention, and now they had it. Maybe more than they wanted. But hey, they said on Instagram they only cared about living their best life, and that's certainly what they were doing there.

But I'm not a cruel man. After all this humiliation, the least I could do was deliver the greatest orgasm they'd ever had as a reward. In fact, I felt a bit generous and gave everyone in the crowd a big climax they wouldn't soon forget.

You're welcome, Montreal.

I did "handle" a few more of those so-called influencers, but none were as much fun as Purple Girl.

--Jaycee (a.k.a. "Cold Justice")