| This is a that includes graphic sex,
humiliation, bondage and of course, mind control. If you're
under eighteen, please take your eyes elsewhere. If you're
likely to be offended, please remember that reading is a
voluntary act. Parents, take responsibility for your
(c)2001-2002 Sara H
All rights reserved. Do not post this elsewhere without
the express permission of the author.
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Note: Special thanks to Iago for help and contributions in
creating this part of the story.
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by Sara H
Categories: FF, f-dom, nc, cons, bdsm, hum, magic
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Shelly pulled out of her driveway and into the street.
Driving by rote, she found herself in the Grands, the
artsy, alternative area of the city. It was Friday night,
and the crowds were swarming despite the cool fall weather.
After a frustrating ten minutes of trying to find a
parking space, she got out of the car and walked to the
small shop where she'd found the Dream Stone. It wasn't
that she wanted to go there for fun this time. It was a
matter of necessity.
Her life had become too bizarre for words. Two of her
managers had agreed to anything she said, and acted on it --
and she didn't understand why. It stirred some animal,
basic thing in her, where sex and power and curiosity mixed
into irresistible daydreams of lust and domination. She
needed to understand what was going on.
Somehow, she knew the answer to the mystery had to be with
the woman who owned the store, even though she realized the
thought had no logical basis.
Besides her quest for knowledge, she had a perfectly
normal reason to stop in. She couldn't remember even buying
the thing, and she was afraid she'd inadvertently not paid
for it. Its appearance in her life didn't have that kind of
feeling; it was almost as if the Dream Stone was a part of
her. But she wanted to be sure it was just a lapse of
memory rather than unintended thievery.
Not that a memory lapse would be all that great, either.
She pulled the door open and heard the tinkling of the
tiny bell as she walked in.
"I was wondering when you'd be back," said the woman
as she appeared in the curtained doorway that led from the
back room. "I'm sure you have some questions."
Shelly was taken aback. Thinking about Maggie, the
proprietress, was a distinctly different sensation from
hearing her voice. The voice sang to her. It tickled her in
secret places. She didn't even stop to wonder how she knew
the woman's name.
She was much too distracted. She was horny. Wet.
"*What the fuck is wrong with me?*" she thought. "*For the
love of Pete, I've never been attracted to women, much less
old... angelic...*" Her brow furrowed as she tried to
discern where the shift in thought had come from.
"Well, I was wondering about this thing," she said,
pulling the small brownish ceramic stone from her coat
"Ah. So your life has taken a strange little turn, has it?"
"Why don't you come to the back, disrobe, and tell me all
about it," said Maggie, smiling as if she'd just asked
Shelly if she would like a cup of coffee. "And if you
like," she added, "I'll carry the stone for you."
"Thank you!" said Shelly. As they walked to the back, she
had no idea why she felt so grateful, but it was hard to
think about as pleasant tingles spread over her skin.
Besides, she needed to shed her clothes.
It was only moments until Shelly was standing naked before
the woman, her clothes neatly folded and placed on a
nearby chair. She began her prepared speech.
"You see, I found this a few days ago and I remember
looking at it but I don't remember paying for it and I was
thinking I might have taken it without thinking since I
can't remember and I was worried you'd be angry and
actually would not have been surprised to see the police at
my door and..." Shelly babbled, barely stopping for breath.
She continued her tale, unable to keep track of the words
as they poured out of her, confessing the tiniest details
of her encounters with Marsha, her manager, and Jim Morley,
the Senior Vice President. "...then Mr. Morley set it all
up and I can't believe it and I have no idea how this is
happening and I was wondering if you knew what was
As her went on and on, Maggie held the stone in both
hands and looked at Shelly. "*Magnificent,*" was the only
word that came to mind.
Shelly's face was becoming as she realized she
couldn't stop talking. It was as if the request to "tell
her all about it" was a command that was going to pump
every last bit of information out of her. It took her most
of an hour before the words came to a halt and she was able
to relax her tongue, which was now sore from its workout.
There was a long moment of silence as Maggie considered
the beautiful woman standing naked before her. "Shelly.
It's alright to remember, now," she said, a harsh rasp
entering her voice.
Another, larger shift swept through her soul. Shelly fell
to her knees in awe and hid her eyes from the brilliance
before her. It all came flooding back to her -- how God had
revealed Herself and told her things. Secret things. Things
she must do and feel. Words and thoughts she would obey
God spoke. Shelly listened.
"Over the next month, you will transform, precious one.
We'll begin with your appearance..."
As Maggie continued, the words wrote themselves into
Shelly's heart and soul.
---- ---- ----
Lisa Stendahl watched Shelly pack boxes of things that had
occupied the unused cubicle for nearly two months. She'd
never cared for her much. She was lazy, insecure and
usually defensive in any conversation.
There was something different about her now, though.
Beyond her hair, which flowed free and curly, like a
gypsy's, she had some kind of inner confidence. It was
almost a glow. While she had never heard what happened, she
had assumed Shelly had skipped town or taken another job in
the company. Jim Morley had only said she was on "special
assignment". When she couldn't find out any more, she let
And to tell the truth, without Shelly adding events to her
cynical gossip, it had been slim to none on getting any
dirt. She decided to walk over and see if she could get
something juicy to spread around. It was certainly worth a
"Heya, Shel. I guess this is it, huh? Leaving, I mean,"
she said, leaning on the open corner of the cubicle.
"In a manner of speaking, yes. I'm busy with more...
interesting things, now." Shelly looked at Lisa and gave
her a bright smile. It was very different than the Shelly
who'd left weeks ago.
"You found a guy, huh," teased Lisa, leaning in and
whispering a bit. "Is it Jim Morley?"
"No, silly. And it's not a guy. It's... well, it's hard to
"I don't want to talk about it here."
Lisa was hooked. She knew she was on to something, and she
felt a deep craving to find out what it was. She was
already imagining the busy phone calls Monday as she asked,
"Do you want to talk about it anywhere else? I mean, I'm
really interested. As a friend, you know."
"I didn't know you thought of me that way, Lisa," said
Shelly, her shyness coming back out into the light. "I
always thought you... well, to be blunt, you've never had
very nice things to say about me. Or so I've been told."
"Not true, Shel! The people who told you that were telling
me the same thing about you! It just took me awhile to
figure it out, is all." She brought her voice down to a
whisper again. "And we all need all the friends we can get,
"I suppose. I do need someone to talk to. So much has
happened. Weird things. Wonderful things. Scary things,"
"So, a drink after work, maybe?" asked Lisa, hoping.
"No, too public. This is really very secret stuff. I'd
have to know I could trust you, Lisa."
"You can! Really." Lisa made sure her voice dripped with
"Okay, look. Why don't you come over tonight, and have
dinner. Bring some wine. I really do want to talk to
someone about all this, and I haven't had a chance at all."
"Ooh, a date!" said Lisa, giggling.
"Oh, come on, Lisa. I'm not like... that."
"I know, I know," replied Lisa. She'd felt the walls come
up and realized she'd nearly blown it. "I'm not either.
Sometimes I tease too much."
"It's okay, really. Seven or so?"
"Okay, Shelly. And Shel?"
Lisa leaned in again and lowered her voice still further.
"Thank you for trusting me."
Shelly smiled but didn't say anything. She turned away and
licked her lips. She couldn't wait for dinner.
---- ---- ----
As promised, Lisa showed up just after seven. She looked
rather fetching in her black, bloused silk pants, black
platform boots and white silk blouse. The lack of color
offset her dark, scarlet-highlighted hair. It was a little
out of fashion, but it fit Lisa in a way that made sense.
Shelly, dressed in her own garish ensemble of sweat pants
and Cavalry t-shirt, smiled as she let in her former co-
worker. "Wow! You look fabulous, Lisa! Sorry I'm not better
dressed, but I like to be comfortable at home..."
"Don't worry, I just put this on for the fun of it," she
said, laughing as she handed Shelly the promised bottle of
While Shelly went off to open and pour the Beaujolais,
Lisa looked around the spacious living room in mute
approval. Shelly's well-known interest in interior design
had paid off. From the white couch and asymmetrical club
chairs to the branches mounted above the fireplace mantle,
it was a of understated elegance. Even the large,
multi-colored ottoman somehow fit. The artwork hung
sparsely was varied, giving a sense of chaos tamed into
In a word, it was beautiful.
Then she noticed the television. It was playing some kind
of wavy, multi-colored color pattern that almost gave it a
three-dimensional quality. "What is *that*?" she called
out, curious. "On the TV, I mean."
"Something I picked up from a mail-order store in New
York," said Shelly, still in the kitchen. "It's a DVD
called 'Future Candy'."
"Cool, isn't it?" Shelly said as she walked back in and
handed her guest a glass of wine.
"Very," said Lisa. She was surprised to find that she
She looked up a little. On top of the television was a
dark-brown piece of mottled pottery, almost like a round
paperweight. Lisa walked over and picked it up. Closer, it
looked almost like a wistful little face. "Cute," she said.
"It's called a Dream Stone. It's an ancient relic,
supposedly. It's supposed to make things happen for you. It
works with like one in a gazillion people. Sort of like the
lottery," said Shelly.
"And did it work for you?"
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact."
Lisa would have laughed, but Shelly sounded serious. And
she *had* been wondering about the recent turn of events.
Marsha. Mr. Morley.
She swallowed unconsciously and asked, "So what does it
"Depends. When I first got it, I was able to say anything
to anyone and they would do whatever I happened to utter.
But that isn't its purpose. That was just a way of proving
itself, and of setting the stage."
Lisa began to think that maybe her quest for gossip had
gone far enough. She had plenty already. Shelly was as
crazy as Marsha. She had gone off the deep end. And this
sounded very much off-the-wall. So why did it fit? This was
sounding more than just spooky, in light of recent events.
She didn't want to show the fear that was growing inside --
she covered it with, "Then what *is* its purpose?"
"To bring out gifts. talents. To show its
owner what is possible, and to uncover their deepest
desires -- the ones that most people hide from all of their
lives. Not only that, it gives them the insight to achieve
Shelly spoke with the cool authority of someone saying
something beyond question. It was both charismatic and
repulsive. It made so much sense that certain people might
have owned them, through time... Moses, Alexander, Caesar,
Genghis Khan, Thomas Jefferson, Hitler, maybe even Elvis
Presley. Maybe none of them; it was a completely ludicrous
Lisa drained her wine glass, turned away from it and
looked around the room and at Shelly. Her eyes had a sudden
feeling, along with her head, of hands gently pressing in
from everywhere at once. "Excuse me," she said. Her voice
sounded like it was booming. "I feel a little faint."
"Yes, I'm sure you do, Lisa," said Shelly, a broad grin
covering her face. "That would be the Essence of Erimiri
that was in your wine. It's a rare herb -- and has an
interesting effect. Very fast-acting. Makes your body not
want to move much, but more importantly, it makes you
phototropically inclined. That means you like to look at
Lisa tried to nod and answer, but found it difficult. It
wasn't like she was paralyzed... it was more like her limbs
just didn't *want* to go anywhere. Silly, stubborn bones.
Shelly walked over and put her arm around Lisa from
behind. "Here, Lisa. Let me help you. You're going to enjoy
this, I think."
She walked Lisa to the couch and sat her down facing the
Lisa sat without moving. Pretty, pretty television. Pretty
flowery, so nice, so bright. Light. She tried to look at
Shelly, to say that she didn't understand, but her eyes
just kept getting wider, trying to catch more and more of
the addictive, pleasure inducing glow.
Shelly turned out the other lamps in the room and sat
beside her transfixed visitor.
Kindness disappeared from her smile, like dropping a veil
of sheer silk.
She waited for a response, but it did not come.
"Lisa, what are you seeing?" shouted Shelly, her voice
filled with alarm. She slapped the transfixed across
Lisa gave no sign that anything had happened.
This was the state she'd been expecting. Lisa's conscious
mind was almost entirely distracted, anchored to the
swirling colors on the screen. She would stay like this for
hours, if need be.
There was nothing special about the patterns. Shelly could
have used a flashlight or a flickering strobe and gotten
the same response. But this was her "anchor" of choice.
Seeing Lisa's awareness being absorbed into spiraling
colors was somehow more dramatic and arousing.
More than that, she decided. It was hot as *hell*.
Shelly pulled off her clothes and sat down again beside
the mesmerized woman. She spoke in an easy voice now,
knowing that Lisa could hear, but could not listen, at
least in the way she had always listened before. This time,
there was no way to question the words that entered her
"Lisa, listen to me. This is Shelly. Shelly Lindstrom. I'm
your best friend in the whole world. And as your best
friend, you know that I only want what's best for you. So
let your inner mind take over and drive your conscious mind
deeper and deeper. Deeper. That's right, Shelly. Much, much
deeper. Listen to your inner mind. In a moment I'm going to
talk only to your inner mind, and there's no reason for you
to listen. No reason at all. It's boring, and the lights
are so pretty, and feel so *good*.
"Now I'm speaking to Lisa's inner mind. I know you are
listening. I know you can't hear anything but the sound of
my voice. Lisa is busy watching the lights, and it's so
wonderful to be out from under the burden of her
personality. So even if the pretty light goes away, you
will make sure that the conscious mind of Lisa continues to
see and be captivated by it.
"That's right. I don't even need to talk to Lisa anymore.
Lisa is completely in the lights now. There is only you,
and your name is... hmmm... Titwinkle! Yes, that is the
perfect name for you. You are the foundation upon which
Lisa is built, and Titwinkle is who you are.
"Since I am your best friend -- your *only* friend -- you
wish to speak with me. Though you've never spoken before,
you can now, because it's safe to talk to me. Talking to me
gives you pleasure, when I ask you to talk to me. It gives
you pain to speak when I do not ask, and your primary
function is the attainment of pleasure. Sexual pleasure.
"You seek sexual pleasure endlessly. You seek sexual
pleasure above all else. I know this about you, and now you
know it, too. It is a great truth, beyond questioning. Just
like I am beyond questioning.
"And since I, too, am beyond questioning, it makes
perfect, natural sense to you that I am sexual pleasure
incarnate. You live to serve sexual pleasure, and since I
*am* sexual pleasure, serving me -- *obeying* me -- gives
you more pleasure than even the act of sex. And when we
fuck, in any way at all, it drives the pleasure deeper each
"Serving me is sexual pleasure, and pleasing me is even
more sexual pleasure. Pleasing me is like being fucked
throughout your entire body with pure bliss and pleasure.
Pleasing me is soul-fucking.
"Each time it addicts you more. When we fuck. And since I
am sexual pleasure, I know what fucking is better than
anyone or anything else. You know that fucking is whatever
I say it is.
"Of course, I'm a woman, so that means you love a woman.
And since you love only me, that makes you what? A lesbian,
of course. Proud. Strong. Loving. On fire. Lesbian. In love
with me. Totally in love with Shelly.
"By now, you have discovered your ability to speak. Tell
me your name."
Lisa moaned softly. Her lips moved, trying to form
something. They were becoming puffy and moist as she
struggled. Finally, a word hissed out from behind another
"Very nice, Titwinkle. Although Lisa does not know about
you, you are all-powerful in her psyche and in her life,
"Yessss..." The word sounded sexy and satisfied, like it
was basking in newfound power.
"And since you obey me, and are my slave, and Lisa obeys
you and is *your* slave, then what is Lisa, even if she is
"My, my, you are so smart. You serve me so well. It
pleases me when you serve me well." Shelly couldn't hold
back any longer as her lust spread through her. She spread
her legs wide, draping one leg over Lisa's as she began to
circle her throbbing, swollen clit with her index and
Lisa began panting at the touch of her co-worker. Her body
began to writhe, eyes closing as if Shelly's lust was
spreading into her like a heated, feverish infection. She
couldn't watch the anymore, but it was no matter. Lisa
was blissfully watching the light show Titwinkle provided.
And Titwinkle was swimming in depraved, Sapphic bliss.
"Titwinkle, fucking is not fucking. It is not pleasing
to me. Each time Lisa fucks a man, no matter how close to
him she is, she begins to respect him less and less. She
feels less and less pleasure. She will begin to wish that
she were fucking me instead. She will begin to wish that I
owned her. She will not realize, yet, that I already own
her through my ownership of you.
"When she feels no more pleasure at all from men, she will
begin to feel nausea. Soon, she will feel nausea at the
slightest thought of fucking a man. Lisa will long to hear
my voice, to feel my touch. She will long to serve and
adore me. Lisa will realize she has always been a lesbian.
She will realize that she loves me. She will realize that
her dream is to worship at my feet. You will reveal these
truths to her as appropriate."
Shelly fought with all her might not to at her own
words. The euphoria of sexual control poured into her,
making her body quake as she continued.
"Sometimes, by obeying me she will feel embarrassed or
humiliated. This is of no consequence. It will arouse you
beyond words, and you will allow her to feel your arousal.
"And... you will only allow her to answer my questions
truthfully. When you have made her tell the truth against
her will, you will have her say, 'You can't fight City
Hall.' This is how I will know you are mine, and in
control. This pleases me. You please me."
It was time to seal Lisa's fate, inside and out.
"My words are fucking your soul now. My words are making
your body and spirit cum. Please me, Titwinkle. for
your owner. When you cum, you are accepting me as lover,
owner and Mistress for all eternity, even beyond the doors
Shelly pressed her circling fingers hard into her burning
cunt as she watched Lisa's body jerk back in a tight, hard
spasm of pleasure and fucklust. The scream grew from a
moan, louder and louder, filling her ears, and it began to
echo in Shelly, making her with her slave, cumming
harder and harder, waves moving faster as the two women
consummated their depraved union.
When Shelly finally was able to catch her breath, she sat
up on one elbow and said, "When Lisa is fully congruent
with what you already know to be true, you will seek me
out. You will merge with Lisa and kneel before me. You will
say, 'Mistress, the two are of one mind, heart and soul.
The chasm has been crossed. I am yours for eternity.' Do
you understand, Titwinkle?"
Lisa was still panting as she answered in one simple word.
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*This ends Part Two of Sexual Revelation. More soon.
Please send any comments to firstname.lastname@example.org, and let
me know what you think! Thanks for reading!*