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
children.
(c)2002 Sara H
All rights reserved. Do not post this elsewhere without
the express permission of the author.
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I've never dealt with magic much, and I thought it might
be time, so here's an experiment. Thanks to Hecate for her
inspiration and support, and to Iago and trilby else...
your caring through trying times makes it all worthwhile.
And Simon Bar Sinister, thank *you* for making the EMCSA
the best erotic anthology on the web.
- Sara
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Sexual Revelation
by Sara H
Categories: FF, f-dom, nc, cons, bdsm, hum, magic
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*Part One*
Shelly walked between the low tables of ornate stones and
antiques. It was all a bit pricey for her, but it was fun
to look. She had always wanted to furnish her apartment
with a decor of sparse, elegant artifacts and tasteful
solid tones. Thinking about it had become her favorite
pastime, bordering on obsession. From serious books to
articles in grocery counter magazines, she spent hours in
fascinated wonder.
The design shows on the House and Home Channel made it
look so simple, but it was anything but. First, coming up
with a design was a challenge. Letting go of cherished but
inappropriate furniture was difficult at best. And while it
was done in less than a half hour on TV, in reality it
would take a person with means weeks or months.
For Shelly, it would take years.
Still, she had her determination, and she thought that if
she went a little at a time, she could eventually get it
done.
She realized she had stopped walking and looked down. On
the table, amid several medium-sized ornamental vases, was
a little ceramic stone, about the size of a tangerine. At
least, it looked like a stone. In addition, two slightly
off-round holes were pressed in on the top, and the clay
underneath had been pressed downward over a deep groove,
creating a sad little face.
It looked like something a child might have made, but
there was something behind it -- a kind of purposefulness
in how it had been done. It was dark brown with hints of
orange in its highlights. It was quite charming, she
decided.
She picked it up and looked on the bottom, expecting to
find the usual price tag of several hundred dollars for a
piece this size, and was pleasantly surprised to see a
price of fifty dollars on the tag.
The woman behind the counter walked over to where
Shelly was standing. "So you've finally found something
interesting?" she said.
Shelly glanced up at the woman. "Huh?" She was a bit
perturbed at the break in her small but focused reverie.
"I've seen you in here quite a bit over the last few
months." She smiled. "It's not a criticism, dear -- some
people come in here for years and never buy a single thing.
I've kept my eye on you, though. I knew eventually you
would find something."
Shelly relaxed and laughed at herself a little. "Well, I'm
sure if the prices were a leeeetle bit lower, more people
would buy things," she commented.
"Nonsense," said the crone with a gentle chide. "If
something gets to you, price makes no difference. Some
people just don't know themselves well enough to know what
they're looking for when they see it."
"I guess that makes me kind of special, then," laughed
Shelly. "I know what I like by the price."
She looked at the small, sad face in her hands. "What
exactly is this thing, anyway?"
"It's called a Dream Stone. Or, in some traditions, it's
called a Destiny Stone. They're very rare, despite the low
price. Authentic ones are said to date back as far as
Babylonian culture. The price is part of the tradition.
They are to be sold at one one-hundredth of value, because
the 'rest of the price is paid elsewhere'. Any more than
that, and the seller is supposedly cursed. I don't
generally subscribe to such superstitions, but I got it at
a low price, so I'm selling it at a low price."
"*Probably got it from her great-grandson,*" thought
Shelly. Aloud, she said, "Well, maybe next time. Fifty
dollars for a piece of spuriously haunted clay is more than
my pocketbook will allow. Thanks for your help!" She handed
the piece back to the smiling woman and turned to look at
the other antiquities while making her way out of the
store. She needed to be getting home, anyway.
"Turn around. Look at me," said the woman.
Shelly pretended not to hear. She was already late, and
she could feel the sales pitch coming.
"Look at me!"
Shelly cringed at the sudden shift in tone. It was much
stronger then the moment before. She stopped for a moment.
Something was crawling up her spine. She thought about
bolting for the door and not ever coming back. In all those
months of browsing, she'd never taken the woman for a
loon. She stepped towards the door.
She looked into the woman's face.
Odd. She didn't remember turning around. Yes. She
definitely needed to go, and go now. She turned.
And kept turning.
She kept turning until she faced the ancient woman again.
"Relax. I'm not going to you," said the woman. Even
so, Shelly knew the words implied that this crazy grandma
was going to do *something*. Despite that thought, Shelly
found herself quite at ease. That would have made her
uneasy, too, except it wasn't necessary. Not at all.
"You can see the power of this piece, can't you?" said the
woman, grinning now. Her teeth looked unnaturally white.
Shelly murmured, "Yes..."
"With this stone, you can make people do and feel anything
you desire. For instance, you believe me completely. You
know I only speak the truth. The truth arouses you, doesn't
it..."
Flames began to dance on Shelly's clit. She gasped in
surprise, but found that she was too relaxed to fight it.
She watched as the woman placed her fingers in the "eyes"
of the Dream Stone. "You see what I wish you to see." The
words sounded hollow, as if coming out of a long cardboard
tube.
Light flashed and Shelly was standing before God Herself.
There was no disorientation, no sense of things being out
of place. It was just as it should be. God spoke the Truth.
Shelly felt her arousal multiply, cascading through her
like wind across fields of wheat.
God brought the stone to Her lips and licked the
misshapen, sad mouth. "You speak what I wish you to speak."
Shelly was visibly trembling now, swaying as her balance
began to fall out from under her. She watched, lips parted
and eyes wide as God took the stone and cupped it both
Hands, pressing and rubbing it as if making a supernatural
snowball. "You are what I wish you to be."
Shelly fell to her knees, orgasm washing through her like
water from a faucet through a sieve -- unending and
impossible, growing with each passing moment. She tried to
moan, to scream, to do anything, but all she could to was
fall the rest of the way to the floor, oblivious to
anything around her, convulsing in unspeakable pleasure,
her mouth wide as the scream inside her signalled the
silent acquiescence of her soul. This was her destiny. It
had been ordained by God.
Shelly turned over and looked up at God. God smiled and
the angels sang.
"There is much Truth to learn. Truth you must pass on. You
will not remember being here, or that I told you. The Truth
is as basic to you as the beating of your heart. Doing My
will fills you with love and pleasure, increasing each
time... love and pleasure as you have never known..."
God continued long into the night, and Shelly found that
she loved God more than anything else in the world.
Except, perhaps, doing Her will.
---- ---- ----
Shelly woke up feeling like she'd been run over. She got
up and shuffled to the bathroom, not even bothering with
her favorite fuzzy slippers. On her way to the toilet, she
noticed something on the vanity.
She looked a little closer and saw that it was a little
ceramic sculpture, with holes for the eyes and a sad little
smile of a mouth. It was all implied, but very well done.
"*That's my Dream Stone...*" she thought. She wondered for
a moment where that thought had come from, and then
shivered as a tingle of pleasure made its way through her.
Once done with the once-in-a-lifetime daily event, she
wiped herself dry and took a shower. By the time she got
out, she was feeling quite a bit better. In fact, she was
feeling really good.
She got dressed and went in to put on her makeup. Without
warning, a wave of dizziness swept over her. "*Make up?
Making up for what deficiency?*" she thought, again
surprising herself. "*Makeup isn't the will of God, girl,*"
she continued. She put down her tube of foundation and
trembled as deep arousal took hold of her.
By the time she left the house, hair down, face natural,
and feeling sexy, she wasn't questioning the random
thoughts that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.
Once she arrived at the office, she was almost feeling
normal again, along with being quite invigorated. She sat
down in her cubicle and pulled up her calendar. To her
horror, she had completely forgotten that her annual
evaluation was to happen at ten o'clock. Just as quickly,
her horror was replaced with a nebulous sense of confidence
that seemed to surround her and buoy her up. Like her
thoughts she had no idea where it had come from, but she
certainly wasn't going to complain. "*Maybe God sent it,*"
she thought, sighing happily as her nipples sang a serenade
of bliss to her in response.
She sat back to enjoy the moment a little longer before
getting to work.
Her phone was ringing. She picked it up, and in her best
"company" voice, said, "Quality Assurance Dept, Shelly
speaking. How may I help you?"
"Shelly, did you forget your evaluation? It was supposed
to be at ten. I'm still waiting," said the disembodied
voice of Marsha Miller, her manager.
"Oh, shit! I mean, shoot! I mean, be right there!" said
the flustered girl. Where the fuck had the time gone? She
hung up, grabbed her purse and headed to Marsha's office.
She hated these things. They were usually pointless, and to
make matters worse, it was required that she have flaws,
and they were never the real flaws. It was so much going
through the motions to make sure she wouldn't get a raise.
She knocked on the open door, and Marsha waved her in, and
then gestured for her to close it after her. "It's okay,
Shelly. My morning was light anyway. Let's get down to it."
Shelly braced herself. She'd always liked Marsha, so it
was that much worse to hear criticism, especially when it
was misplaced.
That didn't prepare her for what was coming, however.
"Shelly, we can dispense with most of this, because we
both know it's just corporate bullshit. I've got some real
concerns, though, and I want to discuss them with you
before we go into your possible raise.
"Quite frankly, you're one of my favorite employees -- so
it's hard for me to say this. But both the quality and
quantity of your work has dropped critically low. You've
been going to interior design websites, reading books on
company time... and it hasn't gone unnoticed. Anyone else
would have long since been let go. But you have history
here. I know you can do good work. I've really tried to go
to bat for you.
"But your 'extra-curricular' activities have even been
noticed by the officers of the company. Your co-workers are
complaining. We can go over specifics if you like, but I
can tell you now, I've been told that I am not to give you
a raise this year under any circumstances. And if your
performance doesn't visibly improve within ninety days, it
might be time to look for 'opportunities elsewhere'. I'm
sorry to have to tell you like this."
Shelly sat in stunned silence. She couldn't believe her
ears. Yes, she'd gone to a few websites, but nothing like
she saw others doing. She was sure she was being singled
out, and she felt her anger growing.
Face red, voice quivering, she said, "So if it's so awful,
why is this the first complain I've heard?"
"Because I've tried to make the case that you would snap
out of it. I promise, I'm really on your side, Shel. But
it's gone beyond me."
Tears replaced the anger as quickly as the anger had
replaced muted dread. Shelly groped blindly for her purse
and then reached in for a tissue. Her hand found a familiar
shape and she gasped as a bolt of electricity charged up
her arm and down into her crotch.
The Dream Stone. How had it gotten there? She didn't
remember putting it in her purse at all. She placed her
hand around it, caressing it. It felt almost silky, like
powdered baby-smooth skin. She pulled it out, and placed
two fingers of her right hand in the "eye" holes without
thinking.
She looked at Marsha. Before she knew what she was doing,
words flew out of her mouth. "Marsha, this is total
bullshit. I've had enough of you and the company, too. If
you think I'm so bad, maybe *you're* the one with the
attitude, the one not doing the work. Maybe you should tell
*that* to the company officers! Then go soak your head in a
filthy shit-plugged toilet! Useless bitch!"
She ran from the office crying, not caring who saw it. She
had been blindsided... backstabbed by someone she cared
for, and it was too much to take. The outburst would be the
end of her job, but it was too late to take it back, now.
She found her desk, sank into her chair and cried,
trembling from time to time as the pain of it teased her
again.
Marsha had watched Shelly leave without moving a muscle.
Now, five minutes later, a slight dribble of drool escaped
the corner of her mouth. She shook herself awake and dialed
the phone.
"Yes, Francis," she said. "I need to talk to Mr. Morley as
soon as possible. It's very important. I have to explain a
few things to him..."
---- ---- ----
"...so they found her in the bathroom, with her head in
the toilet, deep enough that she could just breathe through
her mouth. God, it was the one on the second floor, too...
you know that nasty one that never gets fixed? Anyway, when
they pulled her out, she started screaming like crazy and
kicked the security guard in the crotch. By the time it was
all over, it took like *six* security guards to get her out
of there and to the limo to her rubber cell. Tim was saying
she even had shit clinging to her hair -- you know, I think
I'll pass on going out to lunch today..."
Lisa trailed off her gossip as Shelly walked by. The
incident had created quite an uproar, and Shelly was the
villain of choice, even though everyone knew she couldn't
have caused Marsha's breakdown.
In fact, Shelly was aghast at what had happened to Marsha.
She felt guilty, too. Despite knowing better, it was her
words and anger that had pushed the best boss she'd ever
had over the brink the day before. It was hard to believe
that Marsha had lost it so completely. There hadn't been
any sign of it at all. There was only...
*The Dream Stone.*
It was too outrageous to contemplate. But it *had* gone
just like she said. Marsha had called Jim Morley, the
Senior Veep, and "admitted" that the lack of work was her
own, and that she'd been pinning it on Shelly. And then
she'd... done... that *thing*. It was just too gross. And
too bizarre for words, except they were the very words that
Shelly had spoken without a second thought.
Only partly against her will, a delicious shiver went
through her body.
It was much too weird. She needed to go home. She reached
into her purse and called Mr. Morleys' office. With Marsha
on permanent disability, he would be the one to approve her
absence. The stone seemed to almost find her hand as she
waited for Francis to connect them.
She fingered the eye holes casually. She was struck by how
sexy it felt. Her *contorted* and she nearly let a
loud moan escape her lips. Again, words seemed to pour out
of her lips without a thought of what they would be.
"Jimbo, this is Shelly. You need to send me home. Is that
okay?"
There was a long pause as she waited. "Okay," came the
muted answer.
"With pay," she added, sounding just a tad sultry.
"With pay."
Her voice began to ooze sex as she continued. "In fact,
you would rather I didn't have to work in the office at
all. You want to give me a monthly ten percent raise and
after hours, when everyone else has gone home, you want
stay and finish whatever I don't get done, because I'm
obviously overworked and the most valuable employee this
company has ever seen. You will finish it even if I have
had more important things than work to do. Right?"
"Right."
Shelly felt a smile move across her face as she lowered
her head. "Oh, and next time your wants to have sex,
tell her that you can't because you masturbated ten times
that day already, thinking about me. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Good boy. Now, get to work."
"Work..."
Shelly smiled as she walked out of the office. Something
dark and sticky was taking root in her. It was giving her
lots of ideas. Ideas that were becoming plans.
God was smiling on her today from Her throne of power.
She came at the thought.
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*This ends Part One of Sexual Revelation. More soon.
Please send any comments to sara_h2020@yahoo.com, and let
me know what you think! Thanks for reading!*
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