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)2001-2002 Sara H
All rights reserved. Do not post this elsewhere without
the express permission of the author.
---- ---- ----
Note: Thanks to everyone who has written about this story.
I hope that this part is as pleasing to you (among others)
as the last have been.
- Sara
---- ---- ----
Sexual Revelation
by Sara H
Categories: FF, f-dom, nc, cons, bdsm, hum, magic
---- ---- ----
*Part Three*
Lisa took the lit cigarette from Douglas' fingers and
surprised him by taking a puff. She inhaled deeply and
slowly let it out.
"I thought you quit," he chided, teasing her.
"I did."
"Doesn't look like it to me, lover."
Lisa smiled and looked into her boyfriend's eyes. She
kissed him deeply, and held him close. He moaned into her
and pulled her tighter against himself. "You know," he
whispered, "I never thought two people could be compatible
quite this way..."
Lisa pulled back and started to say something, but
stopped. He caught it, and squeezed her ass. "Lick your
clit for your thoughts," he said.
"Oh, I'm just sorry that I have an early day tomorrow. I'd
much rather spend it in bed," she said, touching the tip of
his nose with her index finger and smiling.
"Oh." He couldn't keep the disappointment out of his
voice. Lately they'd been spending less and less time
together. Lisa's work had taken on a frantic pace, and he
felt like he was being squeezed out. "You even have to go
in on a Sunday?"
"If I want to stay sane the rest of the week, yes."
"Okay, then. But you owe me. I love you." He put out his
cigarette, kissed her again, and squeezed her gently as his
hands roamed over her one last time before closing his eyes
for sleep.
When his breath came in long deep sighs, she pried herself
loose with delicate care and padded to the bathroom.
She looked in the mirror, ashamed at her deceit. She
wasn't going to work -- if anything, it was the slowest it
had ever been. It was just that Douglas was becoming more
and more of a burden.
It had started with the sex. Whether it was just getting
old, or he was losing his ability, it had left her less and
less satisfied. Tonight, she'd even had to sneak a
lubricant into herself. She wasn't even getting wet.
And it wasn't just the slowing arousal. It was something
more basic. It wasn't that Douglas was mean -- he wasn't.
He was gentle and kind and considerate. He always made sure
she reached a climax before he did. But for her, the
attraction wasn't there in her emotions, either. She felt
like they were on completely different wavelengths.
She had faked her orgasms with him for two weeks, now.
She took a washcloth, dampened it and wiped her sex clean.
Out of habit, she held it to her nose. A wave of queasiness
washed through her as she smelled his scent. Not so long
ago, it had made her horny.
An unintended entered her thoughts. A woman.
Shelly. Her juiced. Her nipples got hard as little
pebbles. She pinched them and held a hand over her mouth to
stifle her pleasure-soaked squeal.
She staggered into the water closet in the bathroom and
closed the door. As soon as she was seated she threw her
legs open and attacked her clit with her fingers.
The image of Shelly, naked and spread wide before her,
nether lips moist and parted, loomed larger and larger. It
was so detailed that it almost felt real. It was as
inescapable as it was alluring. She could even smell the
intoxicating scent of her phantom lover.
Her teeth gritted with the force of the explosion as it
hit her, making the light grow fuzzy, then fizzly, then
dark as wave after wave of inspired lust swept over her
skin and outward from the marrow of her bones.
As happened more and more often over the last weeks, she
surrendered and gave in completely as bliss surged like
molten diamonds in her veins, blocking out everything, save
desire and passion for the vision of loveliness before her.
As her last real thoughts left, she remembered that this
was how orgasms were *supposed* to be.
She fell slightly and began the climb again. Each time
took her to higher vistas of pleasure.
When she recovered, she crept to the door of the bathroom
and opened it, so that just a sliver of light fell across
Douglas's face. She gave a sigh of relief at not having
awakened him with her moans.
She thought that she should be upset; maybe even crying.
But she couldn't make up what she didn't feel.
She knew that she would never see Douglas again.
---- ---- ----
The mirror was so free of imperfections that it almost
looked like it wasn't there. But it had to be. She was
looking at herself. She was brushing her hair, noticing how
her eyes almost seemed to glow with a strange light.
Her reflection spoke.
"Obey."
Somehow, she wasn't shocked that her own mouth had spoken
it as well. It was perfectly natural, since the reflection
could not act on its own.
"Obey?" she asked. "What do you mean?"
"Shelly." She was losing track of who was saying what. It
felt like her reflection was doing it, but that was a bit
too much to accept.
The puzzle was lost as a tremor of excitement moved
through her. *Shelly*. The mention of the name brought a
series of small jolts to her most sensitive places.
"Obey Shelly," she repeated back, along with her identical
twin, distracted and looking off to the side as she
continued to brush her hair.
"Look at me."
She looked back to see herself. She barely noticed the
latex tube top and her reflection was wearing. She
looked into glowing eyes that had turned completely white.
"The reflection does what the person does," said the
image. Lisa again realized that she had said it. She
wondered if *her* eyes were white, too.
"A reflection is a puppet." Yes, that was right. A
reflection was like a doll on a string.
"The person does what the reflection does." Both Lisas
furrowed their brows for a moment before working out the
logic. Yes, it was only stated backwards. It was still true.
"The person is a puppet."
It didn't quite make sense, but she had just said it, and
she hadn't formed the thought. What in the world was she
arguing about?
"A puppet is a slave. The reflection is a slave. The
person is a slave. The reflection and the person are the
same. The reflection and the person are one. There is no
reflection. There is no person. There is only the puppet.
There is only the slave. The slave obeys Shelly."
Lisa woke up covered in sweat and was smashed by orgasm
as if she had walked in front of a speeding train.
---- ---- ----
Work was becoming more and more difficult. Things had had
started going downhill in the two months since her visit
with Shelly, not that it had anything to do with it. Shelly
was her best friend.
She was finding that she wanted it to be more. Douglas had
barely fought with her, leading her to see that she had
made the right decision. He'd only called thirty-one times.
It was a well-known fact that anyone who was serious about
reconciliation would have called at *least* seventy-five
times. At least that's what Shelly had said. Shelly was so
smart about things.
She was so happy to have such a wonderful friend.
Her moments of fantasy had become more obsessive over the
last few weeks. There was hardly a moment when she didn't
think about kneeling and crawling over to Shelly and
licking her or giving her a pedicure or doing some
little thing to please her.
Not the she was a or anything. That's just what
friends did.
At first it had been worrisome and annoying, but now, she
couldn't wait for the next image to come to her. It was
like a never-ending fountain that fed her desire and
passion like nothing before ever had.
"Are you going to get that, or just let it ring all day?"
It was Gladys, from over the cubicle wall. Gladys didn't
have much to say to her anymore, ever since Lisa had gone
to her and confided about how she had spread the rumors
that Gladys had slept with a guy who was HIV positive and
had genital herpes.
In fact, at Shelly's suggestion, she'd gone and "cleaned
it up" with everyone. It had been the most painful thing
she'd ever done, but once she started, she couldn't stop.
Some had forgiven her and some hadn't, but she was finally
free from the guilt that had kept her digging the she'd been in for years. Rather than feel miserable, she
loved Shelly even more for having given her such a
wonderful gift.
She answered the phone, looking into the distance with
dazed eyes. "Sales and Marketing. This is Lisa. How may I
help you today?"
"Mmmmm Lisa. So good to hear you."
*Shelly!*
"Oh, you *too*!" gibbered Lisa. "I was just thinking about
you!"
"Yes, but lately you've been thinking about me all the
time, haven't you?"
"Well... yeah," said Lisa, giggling like a schoolgirl. "I
have."
"Let's do lunch. Today is a big day. I have a surprise for
you."
Lisa thought for a moment. She *did* have a lot to do, and
had been planning on eating in. She shrugged. "Sure. You
can't fight City Hall," she said into the phone.
"Good girl."
Lisa thought she could hear the smile in Shelly's voice as
she shivered.
---- ---- ----
Gladys looked at her watch and sighed. The bitch was a
half hour late. She didn't know whether to just go to lunch
or wait for Lisa to get back, but it was a spiteful
thought. In reality, she had no choice but to sit and fume.
She was thinking about calling the new manager when she
heard a commotion down the corridor of cubicles. She stuck
out her head and her jaw dropped open, like a from
a cartoon.
There was Lisa, but she was... well, she was quite changed.
Her eyes were completely white... looking more closely,
they were rolled back in her head, but they gave an
appearance of other-worldliness.
That was secondary. The real show was everything else.
Her head was shaved, and she was in a black latex teddy
that covered her but revealed everything underneath. Gladys
had never seen anything so tight, so form fitting in her
life. The latex and her bare skin had the sheen of generous
amounts of oil that covered her, making her look slick and
hot.
Her hands were running up and down her body, slicing into
the cleft between her legs in front of and behind her,
gliding slowly over her hips and up to her breasts,
tweaking her nipples that were pressing out in obscene
arousal. Guttural, almost feral moans were mewling out of
her as she danced for some unseen lover. Despite her shock,
Gladys found it somewhat arousing.
Hell, it was setting her on fire.
She could see from the other women and that watched
that the effect wasn't lost on them either. As Lisa's hips
undulated, Gladys hid her body behind her cubicle wall so
that she could rub her own dampness, glancing at the erect
nipples and tented pants of her associates.
Except none of them could match Lisa. She wanted her, and
wanted her badly.
Lisa's hands and movements were becoming even more
sensual, like some dance created to bring out the lust in
the most casual observer. She stopped at Gladys's cubicle
and stood before her, one hand on her belly and the middle
finger of the other hand pressing flatly against the slit
of her pussy. The latex seemed to flow right up into her,
as if she was made of black rubber inside and out.
"Mistress has commanded the slave do penance," she rasped
out. Her hands didn't stop their depraved pleasuring of her
own body.
She moaned loudly. "This is the penance the slave offers
to Gladys."
Lisa's eyes reappeared, and with them, came a furrowed
brow and beet face. It was obvious from the pleading
look that she was beyond controlling what happened. Her
hands moved and a wave of bliss swept across her features
for an instant.
Somehow, it seemed to give her resolve.
Tears began to well in her eyes as she unsnapped the
crotch of the teddy and plunged a finger of each hand into
her and anus. She shook back and forth, tears of
embarrassment flowing now -- there was no mistaking it --
as she danced faster and harder between her hands.
Without warning, Lisa screamed in ecstasy and fell to the
floor, her body quaking as it was wracked over and over
with flames of passion and complete surrender to self-
pleasure.
When she finished, she raised herself to her knees and,
looking up into Gladys' eyes, brought her fingers to her
mouth, hungrily licking off the copious juices that coated
them, moaning in sweet abandon.
Her eyes, full of pain and aching torment, told of her
complete debasement. But -- there was a light of something
else there, too. Something that was giving Lisa a thrill
beyond anything Gladys could put into words.
Finishing, Lisa spoke again. "The slave asks forgiveness
and if there is anything else she must do to atone for her
past sins."
Before Gladys could even think, she leaned over and
whispered to Lisa, "Who is Mistress?"
Lisa took on a look of concentration, as if trying
to remember something important. Then her face relaxed and
she stood, and leaned towards Gladys, whispering back.
"Mistress is... Mistress."
Then, "Am I forgiven?"
Gladys could only think to nod yes.
She watched as Lisa walked around to various other
employees, offering her "atonements"... a taste of herself
here, licking another's shoes... it went on and on. Each
time, the desperation and hesitation grew in Lisa's eyes,
followed by an even greater look of bliss and euphoria.
By the time she walked out the door with everyone too
stupefied to even call security, there was no hesitation,
no shame in her actions at all.
She was glowing like a white-hot coal.
Gladys didn't think about how it echoed other strange
events that had happened here. Somehow, she knew that
everyone, including her, would forget all of it. It was
already feeling ethereal and dream-like, fogging over as if
she had been deeply asleep.
She made a note on her PDA to stake out Lisa's apartment.
She wanted to glow, too.
---- ---- ----
Maggie sat in the back of her store contemplating the
Dream Stone. She smiled to herself at the blessing and
curse that had been lifted from her. After nearly sixty
years, she had finally found another that could focus the
power it held.
It was the only way to get rid of the thing.
Shelly would be a strong Mistress. She would go for many
years before tiring of Her duties, and She would increase
the power in the Stone, adding Her own Nuance, just as
Maggie had.
Many would come to Her, drawn like moths to a candle. So
it had been since the ancient times. So it would go on,
building until the world was transformed.
Her mind turned to her home in Brazil, where several
thousand slaves awaited her return. They would serve their
purposes well, building the hundred Dream Stones into a web
of new Sapphic consciousness such as the world had never
seen. Soon, the world would no longer be able to ignore the
growing influence of the Stones, and their Mistresses.
Nor would they be able to stop it. By that time, their
followers would number in the hundreds of millions, their
transformations passed on secretly to all their female
children.
She thought about the supreme sacrifice these women made,
to be impregnated by the abominations. She closed her eyes
in their honor.
Then, she let all thought fly away like snowflakes in a
gentle wind.
She rested for the first time in a very, very long time.
---- ---- ----
The woman and the reflection stood face to face, tongues
dancing. Touching. Teasing. Their were thrust
forward, allowing nipples to touch the cool pane of glass
that separated them.
They had been there for nearly two hours, unaware of the
passage of time. Only their increasing arousal, now at the
edge of sanity, gave any indication of how long they had
stood in fixated adoration.
Their eyes, white and sightless, were as blank as their
minds. There was no word, no indication of anything save
their focus on the task Mistress had assigned.
If required, they would continue until they collapsed,
woman and reflection, unaware of which was which.
Mistress stood watching and turned to the audience rapt
women who had gathered at Her mansion. Many had no idea why
they had come. The ad in the paper had been cryptic at best
-- a few had come because of a friend or loved one. One
woman, Joanne Jarboe, was making sure that the new group
with which her was involved wasn't some weird, off-
the-wall cult.
Why they had come did not matter. They came from all walks
of life, for all reasons. They all left the same, changed
forever.
Slaves.
Followers.
Instruments.
"This is the Ritual of Adoration. One day, you will stand
as these do now, woman and reflection, completely absorbed
in the pleasure you are commanded to feel." Mistress spoke,
and the serious quality of Her voice caused some to breathe
inward sharply, and others to moan and sigh.
"Please observe as the two become one, in obedience and
pleasure."
As if the words had power in and of themselves, the
looking glass lowered slowly into a slot in the floor of
the stage. The reflection wasn't a reflection at all. It
was the slave who had been Gladys, finally touching her
Lisa, the one she loved second only to Mistress.
What remained of the composure of the audience that
observed dissolved quickly into pure lust. Angie, the third
in what was now a line of slaves numbering over a hundred,
had prepared them well with the Essence and the Light.
Mistress smiled as she remembered how Gladys had brought
Angie, her daughter, as a gift. She remembered the outrage
in the eighteen-year-old that had been transmuted into
perfect, obedient pleasure.
That was how it always went. It reminded her of Joanne,
whose had led her here.
Mistress walked over to Joanne and asked, "So, what do you
think of your daughter's involvement now?"
"Mistress, she is not my so much as she is Your
slave, a place for which I hope to be worthy soon."
Mistress smiled. Joanne was a natural. Everyone who came
to Her was a natural; anyone who wasn't stayed away.
She turned to the two women, still standing face to face,
tongues dancing with fervent desire now. "Slaves, show
these neophytes how we seal oursleves to each other, in
service and pleasure."
At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, their arms
slowly raised and encircled each other. Their bodies grew
closer and their hands began to explore dewy wetness as
their legs slid apart, the sensuous motion causing the more
captivated women watching to begin to play with their own
firey cunts.
Mistress held up the Dream Stone and began to chant in a
language that no one understood on a conscious level, but
that spoke to their very being with something stronger than
mere words. The slaves on stage began to slide over each
other writhing as their moans began to build.
In the audience, the most resistant gave way, following
the motions of the two slaves, moaning as their hands
removed clothing and roamed their own bodies.
Mistress chanted more quickly, intensity growing as the
combined pleasure of the women entered Her.
Women found other women, tongues swiping up and down
bellies, as one of the slaves onstage lowered and began to
lick upward along the thighs of her partner.
The women had no choice now. They hadn't had a choice
since the moment they walked in and sat down in the small
auditorium. Their fate was cemented, completed, by
Mistress. Already, they would never again even think deny
the slightest whim She mentioned.
The standing slave lowered and lay back as the first
turned around, lowering her to mouth and her own
mouth to pussy. Streams of juices began to flow, entering
each other, the unnatural effluvium bonding each to the
other more completely, and all to Mistress.
The crowd of women followed, completely oblivious to even
the varied reasons they had come, enthralled by what was
happening to them. The euphoria of giving in to Mistress
and doing Her will was so far beyond their previously
mundane lives that there was nothing to hold them back.
Some had been happy before -- now, it was gray and dismal
to look back. They barely had the chance to look back in
wonder at their ignorance before their energy sent them
rocketing forward.
Moans and screams of passion filled the air, feeding the
orgy of commonality, of destiny and joy. The slaves onstage
began to visibly shake as their climaxes approached. The
energy that poured out of them, amplified by Mistress,
would spread outward from the grounds, calling women from
across the city and far beyond.
The slaves already back home in jobs and families, Her
secret recruiters, would stare off into the distance as the
pleasure consumed them, and then send it on like psychic
repeaters that called to all who were ready to join the
future.
Lisa and Gladys, unaware of who they had been or that they
had ever been less than slaves of Mistress, played onstage,
holding off their orgasms, letting the intensity build as
the pleasure of the women in the room poured into them... a
gift of Mistress for obedience.
Unable to hold back any longer, their tongues pressed hard
against clits, rubbing and scraping the pleasure as it
screamed out of them and into the women around them. Toes
curled and cramped as the intensity instantly addicted and
transformed the neophytes, and climax built upon climax as
the room shook from screaming pleasure-fire.
Images coalesced in the air... of latex clad women loving,
swirling above them, naked women pleasuring resistant
recruits... images visible to even the most resistant, had
they been present.
Then, Mistress came. The shock wave blasted through each
woman in simultaneous torture, ripping who they had once
been to shreds, eyes rolling back into their heads as the
vestiges of reason abandoned them to the annals of history.
Wave after wave filled them completely, vibrating in every
atom of their being, building until it smashed outward to
hundreds of thousands of women waiting to be called.
Some would have gone to bed by now, and would wake up with
new purpose.
After nearly an hour of cumming and cumming again, as more
souls were added to her thralldom, Mistress collapsed,
spent, bathing in the afterglow of more women than She had
ever felt. This was beyond even what She had expected.
She was Queen of the Forty-Seventh Hive. She could feel
the other Queens, current and past, and knew, along with
Them, that they were reaching the Time of the Taking, the
time when all Hundred Queens would join in the Ritual of
Adoration.
The world would be changing soon. Changing Forever.
She picked up the Dream Stone, fallen from her fingers as
her recent climax had come. She closed her eyes, and
thought of who should come to her next, and who could move
Destiny closer.
The of history, a mansion, a room, and a woman with an innocent smile came to Her. A teacher. Yes. A
teacher. Perfect.
She smiled. "Laura," she said. "*You see what I wish you
to see. You speak what I wish you to speak. You are what I
wish you to be...*
---- ---- ----
*This ends Sexual Revelation. Please send any comments to
sara_h2020@yahoo.com, and let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!*"
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