He figured as much. It wasn't so much being able to relate to all of the details Gwen was telling him, as much as the need to get just spew it all out and get it off her chest, so to speak. If it was taken as reassurance and made her feel more at ease again, then mission accomplished.
Simply never accuse him of being nice enough to ever do such things, and all would be well.
"I think you're safe for now. And I think it's more or less that they're in your head, and they can pull enough strings to have you on. You think you're being strangled, but a telepath could technically flip the off switch on your breathing if they really wanted to," Pete mused, aloud. He was rubbing one hand over his chin as he mulled it over, but shook his head. "I don't have that sort of shielding and don't know many who do. You do your best to distract them, or throw them off with disgusting images or thoughts. Sort of push that to the forefront. Dancing penguins in top hats or the likes."
It's what he had done with Shrine, when he had busted into the Dream Nails facility with Kitty, and he had been caught. Simply pushed some particularly brutal wetworks to the forefront of his mind and used it as a shocker, to turn the tables against the telepath. It wasn't impossible, but it wasn't exactly easy, either. In fact, a lot of it was traumatic to him, in the process.
"I think you'd do best to ask about," he suggested, putting his empty coffee cup in the sink. "See if there's any friendly type telepaths that can help you. They might be able to give you a few tips."