The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

THE ART SHOW

By Witchman

Part 2

Brian continued to stare blankly at the first and last text he had received from his girlfriend Jana, simply saying that she thought they needed to spend some time apart.

It had been just as he had feared; his girlfriend had been seduced by Margo Lane, the aggressively lesbian art curator whom Brian and Jana had travelled to Tompkinsville to visit in the hopes that she would patronize Jana’s art.

Apparently it was more than just Jana’s art that was being patronized now, he thought glumly.

As he sat alone in their hotel room, he wondered what to do. He did not know where Margo’s studio was, and even if he did, he knew they would not let him in to see her.

Brian looked between his legs. “Were you not enough?” he said aloud.

“There are no thoughts, only obedience,” jana said dreamily, standing nude in the middle of the studio, mara painting her body.

jana was standing over a can of paint, slowly fingering herself, her lady lust dripping down into the passionate pigment.

Her empty and glassy eyes stared straight ahead at a large black and white spiral hanging from the wall, a hedonistically hypnotic art object that captured her gaze as mara’s knowing brush strokes and Mistress’s tongue had recently captured her body and mind.

While she had felt no emotion at all when she texted her ex, telling him she wanted some alone time, her clit had tingled when she saw the look of triumph in Margo’s eyes as she watched, the same look she had seen when the three women had listened and laughed at the male’s pleading voice mail messages, asking what he had done wrong and if he could please see her again.

The body painting was another erotic addition to her sensual enslavement. When she had frigged herself long enough to add a pungent pussy mix to the paint, mara or Mistress would slowly stroke her body all over with soft, sexy brush strokes, leaving jana quivering with desire and excitement, her heart pounding in her chest.

She often orgasmed as soon as her nude and shiny body kissed the canvas stretched on the floor, writhing around on the material like a horny, sexy animal in hypnotic heat.

The resulting image was like a Pollock as a woman’s sexual frenzy, part of Mistress’s “The Thing He Does Not Understand” Exhibit, another artistic offering erotically extolling the passionate pleasures awaiting any woman who was curious about the hidden world of girls who like girls.

jana surmised she had been in the studio for at least three days, not that it mattered. When she was not serving or servicing Mistress or mara with her body or tongue or pussy, she was prone on a pile of sexy overstuffed purple pillows, blissfully entranced while listening to hypnotic files on an MP3 player.

She had awoken a few times in the night, not sure whether she was asleep and dreaming or awake and experiencing, but she could see fuzzy images of smiling women, of pretty lights twinkling on the ceiling and in her eyes.

She did not remember eating, only drinking several shakes and smoothies that mara had assured her would keep jana’s body well hydrated for further pussy and sweat leaks, of which there were countless.

jana’s flushed face blushed deeply as her mesmerized mind recalled another painting she had posed for, herself kneeling before mara, her mouth in Sapphic service to mara’s pussy.

Mistress had entitled it “The Gift of Giving.”

It was all so clear to her now, despite how foggy her mind felt, fogged with pink pussy perfume and girl sounds.

Boys were tools, like a plunger or tire pump, just something to be used and put back on the shelf until needed again.

Girls smell better, have boobs, get to dress up and be sexy, desired, and know just how to touch another woman.

How could it be any way else?

jana also could not help but blush with lust and excitement when she heard Mistress idly musing about possibly doing a volunteer show and lecture at the local Catholic girls high school.

jana cried out aloud, her pussy spurting into the paint can, as her foggy mind erotically awarded her with the sinful sexy image of herself there, recruiting for Mistress, handing out business cards to all the senior girls in attendance.

mara smiled knowingly as well, but for different reasons. She had seen this look before, the look of satisfaction and understanding and contentment on women who had recently been brought to understanding and enlightenment as to what their role was in the world.

She shook her head and smiled a little to herself, as she remembered how she had tried to resist Mistress in the beginning, how she tried to rebuff her soft touches and whispering words, and how she had finally succumbed in a hypnotic haze of fingers and tongues and words and trance and knowing kissing and caresses.

She snuck a peek over at the Goddess herself, who was at her office desk, looking over paper work and frowning.

For a moment mara wondered what her Mistress could be conceiving, but then the voice in her head commanded her to tend to her task at hand, and she instinctively obeyed, giggling to herself as she pictured herself as Tom Sawyer dyke, the other girls in the neighborhood bringing her gifts in the hopes of getting to body brain wash the sexy and exotic jana.

mara murmured to herself as she painted jana’s exotic complexion. The darker complexion of jana looked so sexy against mara’s fair skin, and she had tasted so good, too.

She frowned as she tried to recall the last time she had let a male into her body, but shrugged. It had been a long time, but she did not miss it, so it did not matter.

All that mattered was obeying and serving and recruiting for Mistress Margo.

“Young man, what do you want me to do?” the older male police sergeant said. “You cannot prove that your girlfriend is being held against her will.”

Brian bit his lip. He actually felt foolish, now that he realized what he was asking.

The sergeant smiled softly. “This is a strange town, kid. I was a city cop for 20 years. I have seen some strange things, but this town is different. Not a lot of violent crime, but a lot of crimes of passion, and a very large number of exhibitionists and cases of public nudity and exposure.

“Lots of prostitution, too,” he offered, almost as an apologetic afterthought.

“Your girlfriend was seduced by a lesbian, son. There is no shame in that. It does not mean you are less of a man.”

“Yes it does,” Brian responded, the younger male blinking back tears.

“Girls have an advantage. No one blinks an eye anymore when a woman gets curious about what it would feel like to be with another woman.

“Have you ever wondered how it would feel to be with a man? That is a question, by the way, not an invitation.”

Brian laughed, but more in relief. “Sure I have, but not enough to do it.”

“Maybe girls are just more naturally bi, or maybe they are nowadays because of the Internet,” the sergeant said. “When I was your age, we did not even have call waiting.”

Brian smiled dimly, not sure what to say, then got up to leave. “ I guess I will be heading back to the city,” he said.

“That might be best, “ the sergeant replied. “Take some time to get your head together. Who knows, maybe she will come back. Sometimes this is just a phase.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” Brian mumbled. “Thanks, Sergeant,” he said.

The sergeant patted Brian on the shoulder, then walked with him to the door, showing him out of his office. “Take care, kid,” he said.

When he was sure Brian had left, he closed the door and went back to his desk, bringing up a secret file on his computer.

“Another hypnotic seduction?” he wondered to himself.

jana smiled contentedly as she finished her large breakfast, her first solid food in almost three days.

She realized that it was Monday morning now, but she was not in any hurry to return to the city.

A call to the hotel had already confirmed what she had expected; Brian had left.

She paused for a moment, and wondered whether he deserved more of an explanation than the one he had, but why rub in his face what he had feared all along?

A voice in her head and flourish on her pussy answered that for her.

It would please Mistress to do so.

For a moment she felt the same pang of guilt she had felt earlier in the week when she and he had attended Mistress’s art show.

He was not a bad guy, it was just that this was new and yet familiar, and she wanted more.

She paused again, and wondered where all this was going, whether some of the talk she could remember hearing, about spreading the cult of women love, surely that had been just to turn her on?

It certainly had. She could not deny that the touch and erotic oeuvre of Mistress and mara had brought her constant countless crashing orgasms, so much that she could not think.

Her eyes brightened when she looked up and saw Goddess approaching again.

“Did you enjoy your meal, my dear,” Margo asked, looking jana over up and down in a way that made the younger woman feel exposed and vulnerable and aroused.

“Yes Mistress,” she said automatically, wondering why that was so easy to say as opposed to just saying Margo.

The older woman smiled, almost leered, again. “ I am glad you did. You need to keep your strength up. I have plans for you.”

jana’s pussy twitched, her body suddenly squirming, in an almost Pavlonian manner. “Mar..Mistress,” she began to say, somewhat haltingly, “I …thought…Br..”

Margo’s eyes darkened for a moment. “There are no thoughts, just obey,” she said, and jana’s eyes instantly glazed over, her body relaxing into the chair.

Margo frowned. “It would appear that part of you is still not free, still clouded with old and bad ideas and feelings. “

Then her eyes lit up, as though an erotic idea had suddenly came to her.

“Come with me,” she said, beckoning for the befuddled beauty to follow her, and she did, nude and wordlessly, the erotic older woman leading jana, who even thought in lowercase now, to the back of her cozy sensual studio.

“Stand over here,” Margo gestured to jana, who instantly walked to the center of a cheap plastic drop cloth that had been strewn on the floor.

She reached into a drawer on her desk, producing a small jar that was almost the same size as a baby food one.

“This is an experimental body paint I have been working on, something similar to what those sexy raver girls wear, only this one has a very relaxing effect on the body, making the wearer feel very aroused and open to suggestion.”

jana did not respond. She had not been told to do so, and her foggy mind could think of nothing to say.

“Some of my girlfriends have assisted me in my work,” Margo continued. “Simone, who owns the witch store, and Dr. Ann Drist, the psychiatrist, have been most helpful. But more about that later.”

She stood next to the mesmerized younger woman, and pulled a small soft paintbrush from one of her smock pockets.

Margo’s eyes gleamed as she began to make soft, broad daubs at jana’s skin, first painting her throat, then slowly outlining her face.

Jana opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing.

She did not notice that she had forgotten to close it, and stood there, dazed and slack jawed, a feeling of soft heat rising from her body wherever Mistress had applied the passionate body paint.

jana grunted, then moaned, then sighed, as Mistress began to paint her breasts.

“Who did you want to call, jana,” Margo said.

jana could not even respond, and her mind was too foggy to recall anything other than what she was currently experiencing. The idea of calling anyone seemed to be so remote as to be meaningless.

The only thing that mattered was standing there as her Mistress began to paint her body with a shiny sexy paint, giving the girl an almost greenish appearance.

There was nothing more to do than just stand and feel and obey, as her Mistress slowly transformed her into a hypnotized Sapphic Orion slave girl, skin green, eyes vacant, pussy flowing.

jana screamed in arousal and release as soon as Mistress’s tongue found her pussy.

As Margo greedily licked and sucked, her mind was pondering selling the body paint at raves or concerts, only to women, with her personal cell phone number as the customer service line.

Her fingers found her own pussy as she continued to lick jana’s, picturing the enslaved young artist handing out samples at art shows and to the local tanning salons.

She came when she pictured herself teaching a an all girl class, with jana and mara as her models, nude and embracing, offering their entwined bodies as subjects for the aroused students, compelling them to create craven canvasses.

She came again when she thought of the look on the boy’s face when he opened the attachment she would send him, a photo of “The Inevitability of Destiny.”

Perhaps then he would stop calling her studio.