The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Claire looked at the clock hanging on the wall. She then took her smartphone out of her handbag, looked at the time on its display, and then glanced back at the clock. Sure enough, it really was 2:48pm, and Claire was feeling some frustration. Her wait was well past becoming tedious. As she tried to muster more patience, Claire began to recall how she got here in the first place.

The previous Tuesday, Claire had received a call from a woman who had identified herself as an administrative assistant in the Student Financial Aid Office of her college in Florida, Preston University, requesting to set up an appointment to discuss her future at the school. Claire, who, on this early March day was two months into the winter/spring semester of her second year, had a feeling that any call from the Financial Aid Office wanting to discuss her future at the university was not a good thing. She tried to inquire as to what it was all about, but the assistant stated she couldn’t divulge any details over the phone and that a one-on-one meeting with the Director of Student Financial Aid would be required. Claire’s schedule was full for the remainder of that week with classes, research for projects, and group study sessions. Going through the calendar app in her phone, she made an appointment for the following Wednesday at 2:00pm. She only had a morning class that day and had planned on reserving the rest of that day to treat herself to some free time. Now it became a day she started to dread as it came closer and closer.

Claire arrived fifteen minutes early for the appointment in the hope that she could get in early and get the ordeal over with. However, that would not be the case. When she arrived, the Financial Aid Office was busy with staff running back and forth, there were sounds of fax machines and copiers running, and the phones were ringing non-stop. Surveying the chaos, Claire calmly walked up to the receptionist on duty to confirm her appointment. Taking a look at the name plaque on the desk, she saw that the receptionist’s name was Traci Hartwood. And Traci Hartwood was an exceptionally pretty woman.

Actually, she was more than merely pretty. Traci was decidedly sexy.

The attractive 45-year-old receptionist appeared to Claire to be in her late twenties. Traci maintained her smooth skin, trim shape, and young, vital appearance through proper diet, good hygienic practices, sundry carefully-chosen products, and exercise, including outdoor activities such as swimming, tennis, and hiking, which served to keep her nicely tanned. Traci’s platinum blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and eight inches down her back and was fashioned in a Veronica Lake wave style. She had on a fairly heavy application of black mascara and dark eye liner which accented her amber eyes, and a luxurious coating of creamy red lipstick which matched the glossy enamel on her long, tapered fingernails.

However, as eye-catching as the receptionist’s lovely, painted face and pale hair were, the part of Traci’s appearance which drew Claire’s notice most was the blonde’s dress, which seemed to Claire to be designed to show off her curvy body more than to cover it. It was a pale blue strapless sun dress made of a shiny polyester material, which hugged her curves tightly and left her silky, bronzed shoulders and arms bare. A lace trim featuring white flower designs ran along the edge of the low, revealing neckline. Claire could tell that if Traci were to lean over anyone could see down her bodice and catch a naughty view of her ample breasts, which were held up proudly and endowed with eye-popping cleavage by a strapless push-up bra. The lower half of the dress was hidden by the desk, but Claire couldn’t help but wonder what it was like, as well.

Traci’s sexy look struck Claire as being neither typical nor appropriate in an office setting. That dress in particular couldn’t be HR compliant, she thought, and Claire felt that it gave off the wrong message to her co-workers and the students present in the office. She noticed male staff members and students sneaking furtive glances at Traci as they passed by her. Claire’s impression was that Traci was trying to draw attention and provoke prurient reactions, yet Traci seemed oddly oblivious to the attention she was drawing.

But then Claire remembered that her parents had taught her not to judge people merely on looks or social status, and to try to understand a person before rashly criticizing him or her. Like her mother would say, “You can’t tell a book by its cover.” While her parents were devout Christians and had educated her and her younger sister, Wendy, on the values of the Christian faith, including modesty and propriety in dress and conduct, they had also taught them that it was not their right to look down on others or to take a “holier-than-thou” attitude. As for this receptionist, she could have a reason for her appearance, it occurred to Claire, a reason that made sense to her. Claire realized she certainly didn’t know this woman well enough to condemn her by her looks alone, and it wasn’t her place to judge, anyway. Pushing her initial judgmental feelings aside, Claire introduced herself.

“Hi... uh... Traci, is it?”

“Yes, that’s right. Hello. Can I help you?”

“My name is Claire Love-Livingston. I believe I have a two o’clock appointment with Regina Burke,” Claire said in a polite tone followed with a friendly smile.

Traci returned the smile, and then faced the computer on her desk to check the schedule. “Ah yes. Claire, I believe I called you some time last week.” Looking back at Claire, she continued. “Welcome, and thanks for coming in. If you don’t mind, please sign in right here in the sign-in register.” Traci pointed to a binder on the desk with a red-nailed finger. “Use your full name, please, and write your student ID next to it.”

As she was signing in, Claire made small talk with the receptionist. “Looks like you guys are busy.”

“I wish. Busy I can handle; this is more like an absolute nightmare.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“Normally, we’re dead slow during the semesters. It’s only busy during enrollment and pre-semester registration. Unfortunately, our wonderful IT department has chosen this day to do maintenance on the server connections for the whole building and in the process we went from ten dedicated lines to one, and guess which office was lucky enough to get the only functioning data connection. As you can see, just about every department in this building is here trying to get their stuff done, which unfortunately means we are running behind on everything.” Traci gestured to the chaos in the office.

Traci’s mentioning that they were running behind sounded ominous to Claire. However she knew that this was something she just couldn’t blow off. She would tough it out and see it to the end.

“Hopefully things will get better,” said Claire. “Look at it this way: Better something like this happening now rather than during your actual busy periods.”

“You’re right, better now than later,” responded Traci. “I like someone who can see the bright side like that. Thanks.”

“Happy to oblige.” Curious now about this woman—who seemed to be a combination of open friendliness, likeability, and smoldering sensuality—and what made her tick, Claire decided to get a bit personal and broach the topic of her appearance with a leading comment and question. “And I also like the look.” Claire looked down at the woman’s dress to leave no doubt as to her meaning. “I’m guessing you have some plans this evening?”

“You can say that. The college is holding a fundraiser tonight. Just about all staff members from the different departments are attending in hopes of getting a donation or two from the rich contributors that show up at these things. My boss and I are both going.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

“Yeah, well it’s either that or watch paint dry at home.” Traci’s response pretty much told Claire just how fun these kinds of events can really be. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment.

It was now apparent that Traci was quite nice, and Claire found herself liking her. Plus, it had turned out that Traci really did have a reason to look as she did, a reason that Claire could understand to some degree. Claire was glad she had stifled the critical thoughts she had entertained when she had first met the receptionist but a few minutes before and had decided to be opened minded about her.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, just take a seat and we’ll call you when it’s your turn.”

“No problem, Traci, and I hope that the rest of your day goes smoother.”

“I’m sure it will.”

Claire made her way to the row of chairs that Traci pointed out to her. Surveying the room, she saw three other co-eds sitting in the chairs. Hoping that the wait wouldn’t be too long, she took a seat, grabbed an old magazine set in the middle of the coffee table, and started to wait.

That had been just over an hour ago, and Claire’s patience was wearing thin. She had watched as the other students who were there before her had been called in, had come out, and had left, the last one twenty minutes ago, and Claire was a bit perturbed about the continued wait. But the chaos seemed to have died down and now it was just Traci and herself in a quiet office.

As Claire was sitting facing the receptionist’s desk, from time to time she glanced in that direction. When Traci got up to use the copier, Claire finally was able to see the bottom half of Traci’s outfit. The short skirt of the sundress was as tight as the top, hugging her narrow waist, wide hips, tight, round rear, and slim legs before yielding half-way down her thighs to nude-colored nylons with a seam running up the back. The outline of a pair of bikini-style panties was clearly discernable through the material of the dress. A pair of white high-heeled sandals displayed her shiny red toenails, and around one ankle she wore a thin silver ankle chain.

Yes, perhaps inappropriate for an office, Claire thought, But I can’t really blame those guys for drooling over her. If I were a guy, I’d think she was smoking hot, too...

That thought made Claire think of her own appearance. Reaching into her handbag again, Claire pulled out a compact mirror and gave herself another look-over to make sure nothing was amiss. She ran her fingers through her glossy, black hair—which went past her shoulders, stopping in the middle of her back, and was styled in an appealing straight blunt cut, with no bangs, and parted in the center—with her free hand to ensure it was presentable and checked to see if anything embarrassing was stuck on her face or between her teeth. She did another spot check to rule out any stains on her pink summer blouse, jeans, or sneakers.

As she was checking herself again in the mirror, Claire began to wonder if she should have put on some make-up for this appointment. After all, while she still had no clue why she had been summoned to the Financial Aid Office, she had the feeling that this meeting with the Director of Student Financial Aid was going to be important for her in some way or another, and that it would be wise to cast an optimal first impression. But then Claire thought twice about the notion that she needed make-up, and decided she only was only entertaining it because she probably had a case of the jitters. Claire reminded herself that if she was going to make a favorable impression, it would be with her personality and knowledge, not so much with her looks.

Claire recalled the day when she had first asked her mother about make-up. Claire’s mother, Mary, had had taken the time to sit down with Claire, review with her various available cosmetics, show her how to apply them, and explain how each type would complement the other. Claire recollected that Mom had also cautioned her that misuse could lead to trouble, in that excessive use of make-up tends to hide the natural beauty of a girl or woman, undermines her self-confidence, and breeds dependence on a superficial outward appearance rather than on inner beauty and personality. With time, her mother said, one who uses too much make-up and uses it too often tends to develop a reliance on the make-up and not on her own intrinsic merits to define herself.

From a young age, Claire had always seen her mother as a role model and used her as a template for what an ideal woman should be. So she took her mother’s advice to heart and picked up her mother’s philosophy of natural appearance, and reserved make-up for special occasions. She developed an understanding and implementation of sound diet, exercise, and hygiene that was just as effective, in her opinion, as liberal applications of foundation, eye liner, mascara, nail polish, and perfume, and it showed. Her workouts, diet, grooming, and clean living so supplemented her favorable genetic endowments as to leave her with silky smooth, thick black hair; even, pretty facial features, including sparkly clear blue eyes and straight, white teeth; smooth, blemish-free, fair skin; a naturally well-proportioned, trim, and sexually appealing figure, one particularly noteworthy for its large, proud D-cup breasts and firm, round butt; and a general healthy glow. Indeed, Claire Love-Livingston was a fresh, natural beauty, with striking coloring, a sexy womanly body, and a mature innocence and wholesomeness about her that was most charming, eye-catching, and compelling.

However Claire was not the only one looking herself over. Unnoticed, there were hidden cameras that provided live coverage of the outer office in which Claire waited. A video of Claire sitting alone, fidgeting, staring at herself in her compact, and looking at the clock on the wall was being viewed on an LCD monitor by a pair of cold grey eyes while a tongue licked crimson lips as if anticipating a fine meal. A file containing extensively-researched information about the unsuspecting co-ed in the waiting area lay on the same desk on which the monitor was perched. A well-manicured fingernail covered in ruby red polish pushed a button on an intercom system.

“You can send her in.” The command was issued by a soft, womanly voice with an icy, seductive undertone.

“Claire................ Hello?....Claire Amanda Love-Livingston...”

All of a sudden, Claire snapped out of her reflections and realized that her name was being called.

“Oh...uh...yes?”

“Ms. Burke will see you now,” Traci said

Embarrassed by being caught spacing out, Claire quickly regained her focus and composed herself.

“Sorry about that. Guess all this waiting took its toll on me.”

“No worries. It happens. And besides, if anything, it should be me apologizing for having you wait so long.”

“No, that’s okay. I understand.” She didn’t really, but Claire wanted to be polite.

As Claire walked towards the indicated office, Traci added, “Good luck with your appointment with Ms. Burke.” Traci ran a hand through her shiny hair, as if to brush it out of her face.

Claire smiled at the friendly receptionist. “Thanks for your help, and if you’re gone by the time I get out, I hope the rest of your day goes well.”

“Thanks and take care,” Traci said with a warm smile on her face, while twirling some locks of her pale blondness around a red-nailed finger.

Claire walked down the hallway and, when she reached the Director’s office, she gave the partly-open door a knock to announce her arrival.

“Please come in,” spoke a cordial, exquisitely feminine voice from the other side.

Opening the door, Claire walked in to see a most striking woman sitting behind a desk. Claire guessed she was probably in her mid thirties, maybe younger. She looked like someone who took excellent care of herself. Her silky mid-back-length maple brown hair with streaks of sunflower blonde was styled in a meticulous bun, which was held in place with two gold and black lacquered chopsticks, and her bangs done in a feathery style swept to the left. She wore a classic, dressy, long-sleeved white silk blouse, which made an impression of elevated feminine taste, while simultaneously—being rather tight and translucent, enough to faintly reveal her lacy white bra underneath—showcasing her large breasts prominently. A perfect application of makeup, including cherry-red lipstick, accented the stunning beauty of her face. Her overall look was, at once, professional, elegant, and amazingly lovely.

Claire stopped several feet from the desk and found herself somewhat speechless in the presence of this unexpectedly dazzling woman.

“Hello. You must be Claire, right?”

Claire found her voice. “Oh...yes, I’m Claire...”

“Great. Nice to meet you, Claire. Please have a seat,” the woman offered, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

“Thank you very much.”

As Claire walked to the seat offered to her, she noticed the gentle New Age music playing in the background. Within seconds, the soft melody seemed to instill a feeling of calm within Claire and dismiss from her mind and body some of the tension she was feeling about this meeting. However, embedded in the music were undetectable but penetrating subliminal messages, which would constitute the beginning salvos in a nefarious plot Regina had devised to ensnare the girl and initiate her onto a path Claire had never imagined for herself.

“There is peace here. You are at peace here. You are comfortable here. You are comfortable with Regina Burke.

“You like and trust Regina Burke.

“Regina reminds you of your mother. You like her and trust her like you like and trust your mother.”

“Regina Burke will never lead you astray.”

“What Regina Burke tells you is the truth.”

Claire sat down, facing the Director. She had an immediate first impression that this was a likeable, trustworthy woman, maybe even a little bit like her mom.

“Can I get you anything? I have some bottled water. Or I can have Traci brew us some tea if you would like, or maybe a soda?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, Ms. Burke, but thank you for the offer.” Claire’s sense of awe was starting to gradually give way to one of comfort with this obviously gracious woman. “But...if you don’t mind...I’m really interested in finding out why I received a call from your office last week.”

“Please call me Regina, dear. I insist. I understand why you would be so anxious to find out why you were called here. Before we proceed, I just want you to know that I do what I can to keep a student’s best interests at heart and that I do everything within my power to make attending Preston University a positive experience.”

Claire perceived kindness and warmth in Regina’s words and further slipped into a relaxed state. She couldn’t help but think how mother-like Regina was being, and, for the briefest of seconds, Claire thought she saw an image of her own mother in Regina’s place as she was talking to her. However, the mental vision quickly vanished before Claire could consciously analyze why she had seen it.

Unknown to Claire, the subliminals were causing this and additional effects. Upon entering Claire’s subconscious, they were reworking parts of her mind, in this instance finding a mental image of the person she trusted the most—in Claire’s case, her mother—and then bringing Claire to subconsciously associate Regina with that person.

“I can understand that Ms. Bur… I mean Regina.”

“So that’s why this is very hard for me to say, but unfortunately I can’t really find a way to make it pleasant. So I’ll have to be blunt.”

A sense of dread washed over Claire. She felt like a deer caught in a car’s headlights, just a few seconds away from impact.

“As you are aware, you are on a scholarship that covers a good majority of your expenses here at Preston University. It’s with a heavy heart that I have to tell you that two weeks ago I was informed that the organization that funds your scholarship filed for bankruptcy and therefore—starting next fall semester—you will not have a scholarship to cover any of your college costs.”

Despairing shock ripped through the young co-ed and reflected on her face.

“If you wish to continue attending Preston University, you will have to find some other means to cover the full tuition and fees for attending. You will be receiving official notice from the Financial Aid Office within the next two weeks.”

There was only silence in the room. The distraught girl was clearly on the verge of tears.

When she had been in high school, Claire had decided to embark on a path to become a lawyer as a career choice, a lawyer who would fight for the oppressed, who couldn’t fight for themselves, one who would ensure that the law would never harm the innocent but would punish the guilty. She knew that such a course would require dedication, work, and, of course, a good deal of financial help to make it happen. Both Claire and her family had been ecstatic when she had found out that she had gained a scholarship which would cover a majority of her college costs. Out of the blue, in this moment in this office, her dreams of becoming a lawyer were dashed, or so it appeared.

Though she fought for several more seconds to maintain some kind of composure, it was next to impossible, and tears started to trickle from Claire’s blue eyes. “How can this happen? This has to be some kind of horrible mistake.”

“I wish it were Claire. You don’t know how badly I wish it were.”

“What happened? How does a scholarship program go bankrupt?”

“Details are scarce, but from my contacts I’ve heard that apparently certain men in the organization have been embezzling funds from the program for quite some time now. It looks like it finally caught up with them...and, unfortunately, with you, as well.”

“Isn’t there any way to get the money back?”

“Maybe some of it, eventually, but that won’t help you and others in their program, as it won’t be resolved anytime soon. It will probably be three or four years before those responsible see the inside of a courtroom. Right now the program has only enough funds to cover those that will graduate this school year. I’m sorry, Claire. I really am. You have to believe me that I wish that I didn’t have to tell you such horrible news.”

“Please… this can’t be happening… I don’t know what to do…” It was hard for Claire to form a coherent thought. The revelation had placed a huge obstacle in her path and she couldn’t see a way around it.

Regina picked up a box of tissues and reached them over the desk to Claire. Taking two tissues, Claire blew her nose with one and wiped her eyes with the other. “Thank you,” the girl uttered softly and sadly.

“Isn’t there some other way?” Then a light went off in Claire’s head. “Like...like how about loans?” The desperation in Claire’s voice made her inquiry sound like a plea for help.

No one in the university was in a better position than Regina to know all about the numerous types of student loans available to someone like Claire. But Claire getting a loan would not fit into Regina’s plans.

“No, my dear. I’m sorry. There are rules about these things,” she lied sympathetically, “and, unfortunately, someone in your particular situation just wouldn’t qualify.”

“But...but I don’t get it. Don’t students get loans all the time?”

“For one thing, you need to understand that the deadline to apply for financial aid for the upcoming school year, including for most of the loans we have to offer, has already passed. Because you’d be applying for it late, and in the middle of a semester, it would be much more difficult to come by and it would take longer than normal to process. By the time everything would be completed and approved, if you could get approved, you’d miss the cut-off date to submit proof of financial solvency for the next school year, which is due by the end of this month.

“The university would have no choice but to expel you at the end of this semester. You’d have to miss at least one semester, maybe more. After that—if you could get re-admitted—it’s possible you might even have to retake some courses all over again. And that’s assuming you could get financing at all, which is far from a sure thing. Once a student has had a scholarship and then lost it, for whatever reason, lenders and scholarship committees tend to view that student with disdain. It won’t really matter to them that it wasn’t your fault.”

All of this was, of course, a bold face lie. The financial aid process at Preston University typically required a student to simply fill out a form, either on paper or, more commonly, electronically, and send it off by fax, email, or the internet to one of the banks or other lenders with which Preston University partnered for student loans. The application would take most students no more than an hour or two to complete and the average applicant would be notified within a week regarding the financial aid programs for which he or she qualified. Few were denied.

When needed, there were even faster routes available to someone in Regina’s position. If she had really wanted to help, all she had to do was make a phone call or two and within thirty minutes the whole issue could have been neatly resolved. However, Regina had no intention of doing anything like that. Her plans for the sexy young woman sitting before her did not include offering her an escape.

Claire accepted this news as fact, considering it came from the university’s top authority on such matters—and considering it came from a woman whom she now liked, trusted, and believed, in no small part due to the subliminals assaulting her—and the disappointing information elicited a new round of tears.

Regina let Claire mourn for another minute before she spoke again.

“Dear, would you excuse me for a minute? I’ll be right back.” Regina stood up and exited the office, leaving Claire alone. It was then that Claire noticed that the New Age music had ceased, but that some classical music now played faintly from somewhere. Claire looked around to locate the source, but could not, so she just sank back into her chair to meditate on her trouble. Unknown to the raven-haired co-ed, a new wave of subliminal messages directed at her, masked by the music, had commenced the moment Regina left the room, giving Claire a booster shot of the sentiments already injected into her, plus some new ones.

“Claire… You like Regina… You trust Regina… She can guide you...and take care of you... You need a beautiful woman to take care of you... Regina is beautiful... You want Regina to take care of you...and guide you...because she is so very beautiful...”

“Regina loves you...like your mother... She reminds you of your mother… Regina is like your mother... You trust Regina like your mother… Regina is a mother to you… You trust and love Regina Burke as much as anyone in the world...just like your mother...”

“Women and girls belong together…as friends…as girlfriends…romantically... sexually... as lovers... Women should like women... and love women…and have sex with girls and women... You should…you want to... you will...”

“Many daughters are attracted to their mothers... You are... Your mother is beautiful and sexy... That is why you love your mother... Regina is beautiful and sexy... She arouses you, just like your mother does... That is why you like Regina... You love Regina’s face...her hair...her body... Her sexy, curvy, creamy, womanly body calls to you... You want it... You love sexy female bodies...”

“A woman who loves women is a lesbian... Claire likes beautiful, sexy women... Claire is a lesbian...”

“Girls belong together... Girls should date girls... Girls should love girls...and have sex with girls... Girls should be lesbians... You wish you were a lesbian...a sexy, beautiful lesbian… You’d like to be a lesbian...”

“Lesbian women are beautiful... Lesbians are nice... Lesbians are fun... Lesbians are sexy... Lesbians are desirable... Lesbians are mysterious... Lesbians are intriguing... You are curious about lesbians... You like lesbians...”

“Traci is hot... You desire Traci... Regina is sexy... You desire Regina... You wish Regina were a lesbian... They both should be lesbians...”

“You love your roommates... because they are pretty... You like looking at them... and touching them…and holding them... and hugging them... You should be closer to them... You should go out with them... Roommates should date... They should be girlfriends…lesbian girlfriends...”

Visions passed into Claire’s mind. She saw two young women, their faces in shadows, with cute, curvy bodies and tight clothes, walking together across a college campus, holding hands. Claire somehow knew they were roommates. The scene transferred to a bedroom in a college dorm apartment. Seen from the rear, one girl, standing behind the other, pulled her companion’s top up and off her. Then her fingers found her roommate’s bra clasp, and unfastened it. Next the vision flashed to a shower. The two girls were together, naked, one scrubbing the body of the other with soap, a sponge, and her hands. Then two wet feminine faces—certain details of which were still somewhat obscured, now by the steam of the shower—drew closer, soft lips parting, before the vision vaporized.

“You want to attract other girls and women...pretty girls and women like your roommates...and your mother...and your sister...and Traci...and Regina. You want to be sexy for them... so that they will want you...and desire you... Be more beautiful... Be sexy... Wear sexy, revealing clothes... make-up...perfume...nail polish...high heels...nylons... Be a sexy girl...a sexy lesbian girl...”

“It feels so nice being with Regina... You love looking at her... and thinking about her... You are fascinated by her... Her beauty turns you on… She is so very sexy… You want to be closer to her… You want to attract her... You’d date Regina if you could... You’d like Regina to be your girlfriend... You’d like to be held by her…and kissed by her… Regina is your world... You could fall in love with Regina...”

Regina walked back in to the office and sat down, seeing with satisfaction a blank look on Claire’s face. “Claire... Claire...” Claire snapped out of the little daze into which she had slipped and, immediately recalling the traumatic news of the preceding quarter hour, found her eyes watering once again.

“Claire look at me.” Claire managed to do so, through the tears. Despite her despair, she noticed Regina had the most beautiful grey eyes. In fact, everything about Regina was amazingly beautiful, it partially dawned on Claire. The thought passed through her mind that she was very fortunate to have met this gorgeous woman, someone she could feel so close to and lean on, someone so much like her own mother, someone she wouldn’t mind getting to know much better.

“I know this news is hard to take, and it seems that your dreams and hopes are being dashed, but don’t give up.”

There was only silence from Claire. She cast her gaze downwards at the carpeted floor of the office.

“Claire, I never would have called you in just to tell you bad news and ruin your life unless I had something to offer to counter it.”

“You mean you have something that can help me out?”

“Yes and no.”

There was a puzzled look on Claire’s pretty, tear-streaked face.

“I have a plan, but I can’t make promises until I’m certain.”

“But...but you said that you wouldn’t have given me the bad news unless you had something to counter it. Can’t you tell me what it is? My future is at stake, and I think I have the right to know what options I have to save it.”

“I understand your frustration, Claire, and, given the situation, I’m impressed that you’re taking this as maturely as you are. However, I don’t want to promise you something and fail to deliver. All I can say is that I’ll be meeting some people later tonight and hopefully I can get something worked out.”

Claire remembered Traci telling her that there was a fundraiser tonight. Was Regina going to somehow find a way to get some of the rich contributors to donate to the scholarship program?

“Don’t forget Claire, you’re not the only one affected by this. There are other students in the same boat as you. However, I’ll do my best to see that you all land on your feet. All I ask is that you don’t give up and that you have faith that it will all work out in the end.”

It sounded like Regina had some kind of plan, was determined to help, and had a ray of hope to offer. Claire found some comfort in that, though at the moment things looked bleak. A small amount of hope was better than no hope at all.

Regina stood up, which Claire understood to signal the conclusion of their meeting, and she arose as well. When Regina walked around the desk and stood in front of her, Claire,

again unable to restrain her emotions, which had been riding a roller coaster, reached out and hugged the brunette beauty. “Thank you, Regina. Thank you so much for helping me out.”

“Don’t worry, dear. I’ve talked to some of your professors and they have nothing but the best to say about you.”

Regina held Claire in her arms, her voice and her embrace soothing the younger woman. For Claire, it was so much like being loved by her own mother...except there was something “extra” about being in this woman’s arms, something quite thrilling and special which she had never experienced before with anyone, not quite like this, although exactly what that was, Claire couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was the woman’s captivating perfume... the warmth and curves and softness of her body... the silkiness of her blouse... her beauty... her affection... Claire had never felt such attraction to another human being before, nor such contentment being so close to another. Whatever the cause was, she only knew it was super nice and more of the same would be welcome any time.

“It would be a shame for us to allow the greed of a few people to cause us to lose an academically talented student like you.”

Regina then held Claire at arm’s length, her hands on Clair’s shoulders. “And such a pretty one!” The compliment made Clair blush and smile. “There... that’s more like it!” Claire responded with a little laugh, and they stood like that several more seconds, smiling and looking into each other’s eyes.

“Now... just head back to your dorm, relax a bit, and I’ll call you later when I get an answer.” Regina put a finger under Clair’s chin, lifting it slightly, and gently wiped away a tear from her cheek with her thumb. For a split second, Claire sensed, for some reason, that Regina might kiss her, and felt a slight disappointment when she then didn’t, but the impression quickly passed. “Okay?”

“Okay... Thank you so much Regina. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Regina put an arm loosely around the black-haired co-ed and walked her to her door.

“Don’t worry, dear. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay... Bye...”

After allowing enough time for Claire to leave the Financial Aid Office, Regina called Traci with the intercom device on her desk.

“Traci, is anyone else here in the office?”

“No, Mistress, everyone has gone for the day.”

“Excellent. Be a dear and lock up the office and come see me with the requested paperwork when you’re done.”

“As you command, Mistress.”

A few minutes later Traci walked into Regina’s office with some folders in her hands and a manila envelope on top.

“The files you requested, Mistress, along with the completion of the assignment you gave me.”

“Very good, Traci. You can set the files on the end table by the door. I’ll look them over when I get home. Hand me the envelope.”

Doing as she was told, Traci set the folders down as directed and walked over to Regina to hand her the envelope and await further instructions.

Opening the envelope, Regina pulled out some papers. Looking them over, a wicked smile appeared on Regina’s face. One set of papers showed that Traci’s marriage to her husband was now legally null and void. She no longer had a husband. Another set of papers were documents that reflected the fact that Traci was now legally married to someone else... but not to man. Traci Hartwood’s new spouse was a wife... a woman... a young woman... a beautiful young woman... named Natasha Hartwood... her daughter...

Showing the documents to Traci, Regina asked, “Do you know what these documents mean, Traci?”

“That I am finally free, Mistress. That I am no longer bound in oppressive male captivity and that I’m free to love the beautiful female body like I always wanted to.”

“Does it bother you that you divorced your husband? I believe at one point you called him your soul mate. Weren’t you two high school sweethearts?”

Traci and Gary indeed went way back. Traci had been one of the cutest girls in her high school, yet nevertheless a modest, well-mannered, unpretentious, nice one, and Gary had been smitten on their first date. She came to like him, as well, and they had married right after high school. Traci gave birth to a daughter and stayed home to take care of her, while Gary completed college and started his career.

Three years ago, Traci had decided to get a job and found one at Preston, the local university in her town, as a file clerk and secretarial assistant in one of the academic departments. About eight months ago, Traci, a still-unassuming, still-conservative, still-lovely, still-youthful-looking, still happily-married, still-natural brunette, met Regina Burke at a university function. They quickly struck up a friendship and within two weeks Regina invited Traci to transfer to the Financial Aid Office. Even before Traci made the switch, however, and started to work for Regina as her assistant, Regina had started secretly working on Traci.

It had been sometime during this period of having come to first know Regina that Traci started to discover that she had a buried aversion to men, that she really thought men were disgusting—including her own husband. At the same time, she came to realize, to her surprise, that she preferred the company of pretty women, and that she had an attraction to them of which she had been previously unaware. She particularly found herself noticing Regina’s charms and getting aroused, more every day, whenever they were together.

At first, Traci had been alarmed by her new outlook, and tried to deny her feelings. She had, after all, always thought of herself as straight and well married. She had ever been faithful to Gary, modest and traditional in her mores, and not given to fantasies and sexual adventures.

But Regina had been very helpful in this time of discovery, and had encouraged her to be receptive to her new feelings. She had helped Traci recognize that she must have always had a latent lesbian nature lurking just beneath the surface and that it had been just a matter of time for it to finally become obvious to her.

Traci and Regina spent many hours together, including, increasingly, after work and even evenings and then weekends. It wasn’t long before Traci developed undeniable romantic and sexual feelings for Regina. Their time together started to seem like dating, and then theirs clearly became a dating relationship, but it seemed to fall into place perfectly naturally. It was reminiscent of her teen years with Gary, except this was far, far nicer.

Traci’s biggest milestone was the night she and Regina had made love for the first time. After that, there was no turning back. Up to that point, she had thought she could still maintain her marriage to Gary. But after that, it was perfectly clear to her that she loved women and female flesh—exclusively—and would never want to be with a man again. Regina next set Traci up with other women, in whose arms she was able to further explore her new-found homosexual desires. Soon, Traci started to find women on her own.

When Regina asked Traci those questions about her marriage and her ex-husband, Traci reflected on the fact—a fact she knew now to be absolutely true, if she had been blind to it before—that the years of being married to a man had been sheer nausea. She was so happy that she had finally come to her senses and demanded a divorce.

She remembered her husband’s look of appalled shock when she had announced she wanted to break up, and the ways he had sought to persuade her to reconsider. There had been visits to a marriage counselor, getaways to attempt to rekindle their love life, calls from both of their families to try to change her mind, and the man begging on his knees with tears running down his face. But none of that had moved her. Traci had felt nothing within herself that was receptive to him, no reciprocal feeling, no emotion—at least none other than contempt for him, as a man, and the pronounced desire to cut all ties with him and his kind and to get it over with as speedily as possible.

After she had forced her soon-to-be-ex to move out, Traci, with the encouragement of Regina, started cutting loose from her long-held moral values, certainly from her previous standards of decorous modesty, restrained style, and sexual reserve. Regina took Traci for a shopping spree, buying her a very different, much more sensual wardrobe than she had ever had before. Traci started using cosmetics heavily. Regina took her to her beautician for a makeover, and the woman who had never strayed from her natural medium-dark brown hair became a glorious platinum blonde. The fresh, merely attractive, naturally pretty young mother became a heart-stopping babe.

Through this period of transition, she came to regard Regina Burke as her first love—as she no longer recognized what she had felt for Gary to have been anything more than a delusion—and, despite her other trysts, Regina remained her foremost love. Traci eagerly agreed to accept Regina as her mistress.

Regina introduced Traci to the worship of the Goddess, since which time Traci had ever been more than willing to do her part to help Regina forward the Goddess’s cause. Once Traci became a lesbian and a follower of the Goddess, she discarded virtually all of her previous views of religion, marriage, family, and sexuality. Traci was now a content, beautiful, sexually free, uninhibited, thoroughly lesbian woman.

“That was a long time ago, Mistress. I can’t imagine ever having felt like that about him. I don’t know how I could have been so deluded, so blind to what pigs men are, and blind to my true nature. Wasting all these years with him was ludicrous. I feel nothing at all for him and doubt I ever really did,, Mistress. How could I have? My husband was a man and I feel nothing for them. Nothing good. Except good riddance.”

“What about this?” asked Regina while holding up the marriage license that showed that Traci and her 18-year-old daughter, Natasha, were now married as a lesbian couple.

Different memories came rushing into her mind, ones that sent pleasure throughout her body and started to bring a pleasant, warm, wetness between Traci’s legs. It had started around three months ago, just a week or two after Traci’s final conversion to lesbianism and the expulsion of her soon-to-be ex-husband. Traci hadn’t known how or why it had happened other than that it did happen. She recalled feeling a sudden sexual interest in her daughter and starting to take secret glances at the pretty, young girl, who was just entering her sexual prime. Traci had found herself enamored with Natasha’s graceful body, and had started fixating on the girl’s round B-cup breasts, long, firm legs, and smooth butt. Traci also started getting obsessed with Natasha’s long, voluminous hair, hair which glowed with the sheen and rich color of fine milk chocolate, and which went well past Natasha’s shoulders in sensual waves that stopped a few inches above her waist. Traci found herself frequently fantasizing about running her fingers through the glossy brown mane, burying her face in it, inhaling it.

Traci recalled how her secret lust had spilled out into her behavior and had crossed the line into incest. It had started subtly, with various smalls deeds of flirtation, at first unconsciously but then more intentionally, and then it had progressed to bolder acts of deliberate seduction. When Natasha had started to notice, then welcome, and then clearly reciprocate her mother’s advances, Traci had pressed forward with greater abandon every day until their mutual attraction had eventually culminated in having passionate lesbian sex together for the first time. After that, they hadn’t been able to stop. Traci and her daughter had seized every opportunity that had presented itself to fuck each other senseless, as well as all other women that they could seduce.

Until her transformation, Traci had taken delight in the moral goodness of her daughter. The girl had regularly attended church with her and had absorbed her concepts of religious devotion and sexual purity. Though she had dated some, Natasha had had no significant sexual experience. She was a normal, modest, circumspect, heterosexual teen. She was a good girl. Traci had been proud of her like that. But then, after Traci’s conversion and the expulsion of her husband, Traci had started to feel exactly the opposite.

At first, Traci had kept the changes in her attitudes hidden from Natasha, though she knew the teen could observe outward alterations in her appearance and in the company she kept, and would eventually figure out what was going on and they would have to sit down and talk about it. But Traci secretly wanted her daughter to join her in her new sexual freedom—to loosen up, to try more provocative clothes, and to experiment sexually. She especially hoped Natasha would get interested in girls and be open to homosexuality, for that had brought Traci her greatest joys to date. She wanted Natasha, in short, to enjoy life more, and to be more like herself. But she said nothing.

Then one day, out of the blue it had seemed, she had started having feelings for Natasha, feelings that bloomed into arousal, lust, and yearning for more than a mother-daughter relationship with the pretty teen. She started regretting ever having implanted “normal” values into her daughter. She wanted to destroy the “good girl” in Natasha. She wanted her daughter to become a wicked lesbian slut. And Traci knew it was up to her to get that ball rolling. Traci also realized that, even if she weren’t personally interested in developing an incestuous relationship with her daughter, she was, as Natasha’s mother, obliged to undo the damage she had done by pushing Christian morality on her girl over the years. But she also knew she had to tread lightly and proceed subtly at first, lest she shock her daughter excessively and lose her confidence.

However, before Traci had gotten much of a start on her campaign to seduce and indoctrinate Natasha, forces sent by the Goddess, forces of which Traci was unaware at the time, started to alter Natasha’s mind.

The feelings that had come over Natasha had been, at first, alarming to herself. She had tried to suppress them, and then, when she could no longer deny them, she endeavored to at least hide them from Traci. But being around her beautiful, sexy mother every day eventually had proven more than she could resist and, when her mother’s incestuous interest in her and her flirtations became so obvious that she could no longer explain them away nor ignore them, Natasha had started to respond and reciprocate. One thing led to another until mother and daughter were dyed-in-the-wool lesbian lovers.

At the time, neither of them understood what had happened. In their bliss with each other, they just accepted it. They had talked about it, after it had happened, and they both had speculated that, as Traci had loosened up morally under Regina’s guidance, had started to dress provocatively, wear make-up, and become more beautiful, and had started to come on to her daughter, that all that had aroused lusts within Natasha that had simply been waiting to be summoned, liberating her true, immoral, lesbian self, and setting free an incestuous type of love for her mother which she perhaps had long repressed. Traci assumed she alone had corrupted her daughter into being a depraved little lesbian slut, which gave her great satisfaction. Her good girl was gone and in her place was a sexy bad girl, one of whom she was quite proud. On Traci’s part, her attraction to her daughter was felt to be a natural outgrowth of her raging new lesbianism combined with Natasha’s sweet, young, naturally alluring beauty.

Shortly after Regina had introduced Traci to the ways of the Goddess, she had also revealed to Traci that the Goddess and her followers employed certain covert methods of mind control to help various women and girls who thought they were straight to see the Sapphic truth about themselves. Traci had subsequently learned how to assist in the utilization of those methods in the service of the Goddess. When Traci eventually had asked Regina whether mind control had been used on her, to turn her into a lesbian, Regina frankly admitted that it had been. By then, however, Traci was too in love with Regina, too devoted to the Goddess, and too happy in her new life as a sexy, loose, and morally liberated lesbian to care. She was completely at peace with the result.

By the day of Claire’s appointment in the Financial Aid Office, however, Traci had not yet realized that the same hidden forces had been behind her daughter’s conversion and their falling in love with each other. That discovery would yet be some months in the future, but, when it would be revealed to them, neither would care, not any more than when Traci had first learned about the brainwashing behind her initial transformation. They would gratefully accept the use of mind control on them as having been both necessary and wonderful. They would believe that, despite the indoctrination exercised on them, their new sexual proclivities and their incestuous relationship had been destined in any case, and the brainwashing they had been exposed to had only brought their blissful fate to fruition sooner than it otherwise would have.

Traci recalled one of the most memorable highlights in their new mother-daughter relationship. It was a night of Sapphic bliss during which she had fucked her daughter in her ass with a strap-on. After their incestuous intercourse, as they were lying with each other recovering, both perfectly naked, Traci had ogled Natasha, her slender body covered in a sheen of sweat, her long medium-brown hair matted to her face and torso, and her beautiful young B-cup breasts heaving up and down as she caught her breath. So erotically endearing had been the sight that Traci had no longer been able to delay the moment she had by then been entertaining, with no uncertain delight, for several days. Traci opened the night stand next to their bed, pulled out a small jewelry box, got down on bended knees, and took Natasha’s hand.

“Natasha, sweetie, can you listen to me?”

Turning her head, Natasha looked into her mother’s eyes. “Give me a moment, Mom. Trying to catch my breath here. But I love you.”

Traci smiled broadly. It made her happy to see her daughter bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking, and it thrilled her to hear the declaration of her daughter’s love. She knew it was more than simple mother-daughter love; rather it had a sweet and potent romantic depth to it, and a marital-like devotion, as well as a ferocious lust.

After having allowed her precious girl another minute, which gave Traci more opportunity to further appreciate Natasha’s fresh, young body and sexy beauty, she continued. “Natasha, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What is it, Mom?”

“Ever since I first realized how much I love you, darling... as more than just your mother... since we realized our love for each other... I knew that we were meant to be together... yes, as girlfriends... and as lesbian lovers... and as more... as true soul mates... You know that is what you are to me, don’t you? My beautiful, eternal soul mate, the one I love and will love with all my heart, forever.”

“Yes, Mom. Oh, yes! That is exactly how I feel about you. I love you so much, I can barely stand it!”

“Darling, we are destined to be something more... I want you to be mine, now and for all time... as this...”

Traci opened the box and Natasha’s pretty eyes went wide. “Ohhh... Mom!” The young daughter’s delicate lips split apart in awe, before breaking into an excited, giddy grin, as her heart started to race wildly.

Removing the shiny ring from the velvet box and holding it toward her girl, Traci spoke, with as much solemnity as she could muster, her soft voice beautiful with womanliness and happiness.

“Natasha Hartwood, will you do me the honor of becoming my lesbian wife?”

“What? Can we, Mom?”

“Yes, my love. There is a way. And, more than anything else in the world, my sweet daughter, I want to marry you.”

“Then, yes! Absolutely yes!!!” the cute girl squealed, as she threw herself into her mother’s arms. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!!!”

Natasha backed off and restrained her joy just long enough for Traci to slide the diamond ring onto her finger, upon which Natasha once again enveloped her mother with uninhibited passion, smothering her face with a hundred kisses.

“Oh, yes, Mom! I love you with all my heart!! And... well... you turn me on so much!... I could never live without you... or your sexy body... or, especially, your sweet, hot pussy! I want you as my beautiful wife, now and forever! I want to marry you, too!!! Yes, I will soooo marry you!!”

Thus it had come to pass a few weeks ago that Natasha and Traci found themselves in a lawyer’s office, both dressed in matching sexy white silk wedding gowns. The shockingly short skirts of the micro-dresses were trimmed with silvery lace along the hems and were intimately tight, hugging the firm, ample asses of the mother and daughter wearing them, in order to show them off, and barely covered their hips and derrieres, exposing the tops of their white lace stay-up stockings. The bodices of the dresses were elegantly strapless, of a corset design featuring silver laces weaving the front halves together, tied at the bottom and showing plenty of skin up the middle, with sheer demi-cups which supported, presented, and revealed the creamy mother and daughter breasts in a most breathtaking fashion. Both had their hair swept up onto their heads in intricate braided, swirled, and wrapped tresses, interwoven with strands of pearls. Five-inch stiletto-heeled silver and white pumps, white silk veils brocaded with silver thread, pearl necklaces and earrings, ruby-red nails and lips, and other elements of heavy, dramatic make-up, and sheer, fingerless lace gloves running up their smooth arms completed their matched look.

Traci and Natasha had agreed to an “open” marriage, one permitting each of them to “play the field” and to “sleep around” with as many other female partners as they desired in whatever manner they wished. The arrangement did not preclude forming other serious romantic relationships, with other girlfriends and lovers, and spending significant time with them, including going on trips and even living together with them part of the time, so long as, at the end of the day, they came home to each other most of the time. As time passed, it would become their practice to occasionally bring home a new conquest or two to share, enjoying them either sequentially or as a threesome or foursome, and sometimes they would go on double dates, at times ending up in a foursome and other times simply trading partners before the night was through. And, of course, they would date each other, giving their continuing mutual courtship the highest priority, apart from their obligations to the Goddess, of course, and the requirements of Regina, now the beloved mistress to both of them. But neither saw any reason to limit the fulfillment available to them as free, wanton, pretty lesbian women by adhering to antiquated ideals of monogamy and “fidelity”.

The group in attendance at the ceremony had not been large, but it had consisted of women close to their hearts. Traci pictured, as she reviewed the scene in her memory, women there whom she or Natasha or both of them had seduced and had ended up taking to bed. Mistress Burke, of course, had also been there.

And there had been someone else present.

The Goddess. Yes, Goddess had come. In fact, it was she who had officiated. It was she who had blessed their cherished union. It was she who had married them, joining mother and daughter as one.

While gay marriage had just been declared legal in Florida and Goddess had obtained legal certification to perform marriages, state laws relating to Natasha’s minor age and her close family relationship with her intended bride were obstacles to an official marital union. Even without legal sanction, however, Traci and Natasha would have considered themselves bound to each other just as if it were legal. They recognized the divine authority of the Goddess as being every whit as legitimate, if not superior, to that of a government created by men. Indeed, there was no question in their minds that the so-called moral authority of any institution which imposed the oppressive, flawed values and rules of the men of the world on women was quite inferior to that of their beloved, wise, and powerful Goddess. If she pronounced a lesbian mother and her equally sexy lesbian daughter to be married, then it was so.

However, it hadn’t been difficult for the Goddess, using her wealth and resources, to devise a plan to bypass the narrow-minded legal barriers relating to the issues of Natasha’s family relationship to Traci, which otherwise would have prevented them marrying each other “officially”.

Serena’s lawyers had crafted a new identity for Natasha by having the county issue her a “corrected” birth certificate, which revised her listed parentage to show that Regina was her mother and that she, therefore, was not related to Traci. It also changed Natasha’s maiden name to Regina’s last name, which name change was supported by also filing an official change of name petition and obtaining a new drivers license bearing her new maiden name. And with her newly crafted identity the 18-year-old vixen could legally marry Traci, now Regina, as her new mother of record, could and did give that union full consent.

Natasha eagerly embraced the identity given to her to by the gorgeous goddess that would allow her and her mother to get a marriage license, which had happened a few days previously at the county clerk’s office, and to become her mother’s lesbian wife on this special day. Before the brief ceremony, both of them wore blissful smiles as they signed their names on the marriage license, which verified they were uniting together as a lesbian couple, thus allowing both mother and daughter to achieve their dreams.

None of this would have been possible without the Goddess’s help. It was Goddess who had sent Regina into their lives and who had been behind their discovery of their true lesbian natures. It was she who, through Regina, had encouraged their love and who had placed the idea in Traci’s head that she could and should marry her daughter. It was the Goddess who had pulled the strings and hired the lawyers to give these proceedings the veneer of legality. It was the Goddess who had arranged for the ceremony take place at the lawyer’s office, where the lawyers could make sure the applicable documentation was properly executed and where they could have the privacy they desired for their gathering.

It had been such an honor to have had her there, such a glory to have basked in her presence. Traci and Natasha had been awed by her beauty, and Traci still marveled as she recollected the experience. Goddess’s ultra pale blond hair had seemed like shimmering pearls radiating waves of silvery light, her green eyes as perfect emeralds, her enticingly full, voluptuous breasts and other entrancing curves as erotically divine perfection. Yes, while Traci might take her direct orders from Mistress Burke, she worshiped and adored her Goddess. There was no command that she wouldn’t obey without hesitation for her beautiful Goddess.

That loyalty had been both tested and strengthened the night of their wedding.

Goddess had left with Regina soon after the ceremony, not lingering long to mingle. She had, however, left her assistant, a young beauty named Jennifer, to represent her through the remainder of the festivities, brief as they would be. Before leaving the lawyers’ office, Mrs. and Mrs. Hartwood had cut their small wedding cake and Natasha had tossed her bouquet, Jennifer catching it. After the newlyweds left the lawyers’ building to whoops and a rain of rice, they entered the waiting limo which would take them to their next destination.

Regina had reserved a penthouse in a fancy hotel for Traci and Natasha, where they intended to begin their married life with a night of love unlike any they had known before. While Traci had tasted her daughter’s pussy often and had penetrated her in the derriere on many occasions by then, they had been saving her “cherry”, saving lesbian strap-on penetration of her vagina, for this special evening. Natasha was a virgin and her mother-wife would claim her maidenhood this night.

An obliging hotel staff ushered them into their penthouse which, they were informed to their mild surprise, was a two-bedroom suite. After the door closed behind them, they took a minute to get their bearings in the spacious, luxurious living room, then fell into each other’s arms, lips locking in crazy, mutual infatuation, silky white dresses, nyloned legs, and lace-gloved hands mingling and roaming with passionate abandon.

Then the door to one of the bedrooms opened. And out walked Regina.

At first the two lovebirds were so oblivious to anything but each other that they did not notice Mistress Burke standing there. When they finally came up for air, she gently cleared her throat.

They turned and spoke in unison, mouths open. “Wha...? Regina!” Part of their surprise was, of course, the unexpected presence of another person in what they thought would be their private love nest. But another was the way Regina was dressed—identical to the two newlyweds in every detail!

“Good evening ladies. Your agenda is being changed tonight.”

The newlywed couple stood speechless.

“Our Goddess is granting you a high honor. Traci, our queen will take your daughter into her bed on your wedding night. She will claim your bride’s virginity as her own.”

Neither mother nor daughter moved, grasping to comprehend the meaning of Regina’s words. Regina paused to let them digest what she had said.

Finally Natasha overcame her shock enough to speak, facing her mother and holding onto her tightly again. “But... Mom... nooooo... I want you...” she pleaded, emotion quickly choking further words. and tears starting to streak down her pretty face.

Fully comprehending now, Traci slowly turned toward her bride and spoke tenderly. “My love... Listen to me.... This is indeed for the best. Our queen honors both you and me. It is hard for us to part on our wedding night, but we will have each other forever after this. Tonight, you belong to our Goddess.” She took her daughter into her arms one last time on that monumental day and pressed her lips and her body urgently into her new bride’s for several minutes. Backing off slightly, she held Natasha’s face in her hands and kissed her lips and her face again and again.

Traci took a step back, tears now running down her own face, and put on a brave smile.

“Everything will be all right, my darling. You’ll see. I promise. A sweet good night to you...”

As Traci let her daughter go, Regina stepped forward. “Come, sweetheart. This way.” Putting an arm around the teen bride’s slim waist, Regina accompanied her to the door of one of the bedrooms, kissed the girl on her head, opened the door and held it for her as Natasha took one last, longing look at her bridal mother, and closed it after the young beauty had passed through.

The night turned out to be anything but the painful or sad occasion it had appeared at this moment to be. When Natasha entered the spacious bedroom, she found Goddess sitting in the expansive, silver satin-covered bed, with a gracious, soft smile, not beckoning or speaking, simply watching the girl as she stood there drinking her in. The Goddess was dressed, as Regina had been, in the same exact outfit, style, and make-up in which Natasha and her mother had been married but an hour before and which the girl still wore. The impression created for Natasha was, as intended, that it were as if the woman in the bed was her beloved bride-mother, and she started to relax.

As the brunette teen bride stood there taking in the regal pearly blonde, Goddess’s beauty started to intoxicate her. The girl found herself being irresistibly drawn to her queen. Without thinking, she slowly walked toward the bed and climbed onto it, fascinated, heart beating rapidly, mesmerized, totally captivated. Allowing the young lesbian to gaze upon her and become lost in her penetrating allure and her exotic, heady perfume a minute longer before moving, the queen then opened her arms, smiling warmly. Natasha melted into her arms, seeking Goddess’s luscious red-painted mouth with her own.

They hadn’t been together but five minutes before other plans for the night had faded from Natasha’s mind, all disappointment had been sweep from her emotions, and the initially-reluctant girl had started to forget even her mother in Goddess’s arms and lips. The Goddess became her ersatz bride, her new love, her world. The queen spent the night driving her young lover crazy with lust and abandoned lesbian sex, taking the teen’s womanhood as the pretty girl screamed frenziedly for more and moaned passionate declarations of undying love.

In the meantime, in the other bedroom Regina played the part of Traci’s new bride, teasing the lovely blonde into fucking her in every conceivable way and then turning the tables on Traci until they both collapsed in exhaustion and love in the wee hours of the morning. By the time they parted the next day, Traci and Regina had fallen madly in love with each other all over again.

That night had been the best thing that had ever happened or could ever have happened to Traci and Natasha, they would both later agree. While Traci had been pleased with the wonderful loosening of Natasha’s moral values so far in their time together as lovers, some of the girl’s old inhibitions and reserve and ways of thinking about modesty and sex had lingered inside the girl, and would pop up occasionally. Traci had thought and hoped that over time the teen would let go completely of any and all “good girl” inclinations remaining in her. But the Natasha that came out of that bedroom in the morning was no longer the same girl—not the same quasi-novice lesbian teen, the one who was relatively new to homosexuality and promiscuity, the one clinging to some remnants of her old values, and still a virgin—as the one who had walked into it the night before.

Natasha had emerged from the room the next morning into her eager mother’s arms a completed lesbian whore—which was Traci’s dream come true. During the night, the Goddess had fully corrupted all remaining innocence and obliterated whatever inhibitions lingered in the girl. She had created of her lover for the night an insatiable tigress, had returned the curvy young brunette to her incestuous blonde mother as more a mate, more a wife now than a daughter. The queen had made the girl into an ultimate lesbian slut.

Neither Traci nor Natasha ever had any subsequent regrets about the way their wedding day and night had developed. In the aftermath it was obvious that all had taken place as it should have. Though they had spent their wedding night with women other than each other, what women they were! Traci and Natasha were now so much better suited to each other and fonder of each other than ever before. No one could have taken her daughter’s virginity so gloriously and given back so much in return as the Goddess had, not even the girl’s own mother, Traci knew, though she was Natasha’s bride. No one could have had as much foresight or devised such a wise plan as the Goddess.

Traci thought back for a brief moment to the rueful day her own maidenhood had been robbed from her by a man—her husband—and she envied her daughter’s privilege to have given hers to a woman instead, to the woman of women, to the incomparable Goddess.

Traci understood anew why the Goddess was her vast superior. Her greatness lay not only in her perfect beauty, and not only in her wonderful sexual prowess, and not only in her wealth, her worldly power, her knowledge, and her intelligence, but also in her wisdom, her love, and her abundant, merciful generosity.

The Goddess truly had blessed them.

“Ahem... Taking a trip down memory lane I see.”

Traci snapped back to attention as Mistress interrupted and brought her back into focus.

“I’m so sorry, Mistress. I didn’t mean to…”

Regina placed a hand on Traci’s face and gently began to stroke it.

“Shhhhhh,” Regina whispered into Traci’s ear. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, pet. I also have that same look on my face when I think about her.”

After saying this, Regina began to gently nibble on Traci’s earlobe, placed both hands on Traci’s breasts, and began to feel and massage them. Traci loved intimacy like this with her boss, and sighed contently.

“When was the last time we had a moment to ourselves, pet?”

“I believe early this morning, Mistress.”

“I was being facetious, pet.”

Regina walked around Traci and stood behind her. Reaching around her assistant’s body, the brunette slipped her left hand into the neckline of Traci’s skimpy dress, then into her bra, and massaged Traci’s left breast directly, with an occasional pinch and pull of its nipple, while her right hand pulled up the hem of the sundress and slid between Traci’s legs. Tracy closed her eyes and purred with arousal. “Mmmmmmmm...”

“Goddess has a task for us and needs our services. Are you ready to assist your Goddess?”

“Absolutely, Mistress.”

Regina’s right hand reached its target and felt the wetness between Traci’s thighs. Using her fingers, Regina began to gently rub Traci’s clit and elicit more moans from her. Traci could feel her legs begin to buckle from the sexual stimulation. Meanwhile, Regina’s left hand yanked down the top of the blonde’s dress and the cups of her bra, liberating both of Traci’s breasts, and took turns groping each one. The playful nibble on Traci’s ear turned into bites and nips on her neck. Traci’s breathing turned into panting as she anticipated her impending orgasm. She closed her eyes... and then Traci felt it all stop.

She was so close to the edge, a part of her contemplated grinding herself against Mistress’s body to push her over. However, she knew that would be inappropriate. The sexual needs and desires of Mistress Burke and of the Goddess always took priority over her own, and she was programmed to satisfy them in every way possible.

Traci disengaged herself from Mistress Burke and turned herself around to face her Mistress. She paused a brief second to scan Regina’s exquisite face. The cherry red lipstick that Regina had applied on them made her lips look plump, moist, and tantalizingly delicious. They screamed, “Kiss me!” and Traci’s lesbian soul heard the scream pierce her deeply. Unable and disinclined to resist in the least, the blonde initiated a fervent kiss on Regina’s colored lips. Traci worked her tongue into Regina’s delicious red mouth and, as she was doing this, she began to massage Regina’s large breasts through her gossamer blouse, groping and kneading them hungrily through the silk material.

Her lust for her beautiful mistress rising, Traci unbuttoned the sleek blouse which veiled the treasure that was Regina’s bosom and peeled it away, seeking to set the gems free. In short order, she sought out the clasp of the bra which held the large, luscious beauties in captivity, unfastened it, and ripped away the skimpy prison, thereby exposing the smooth, fleshy orbs to her direct touches and groping. All the while, Traci’s eyes fixated on the ripe mounds being fondled by her hands.

Driven by sexual greed and need, she slowly disengaged her mouth from Regina’s, kissed her way down her boss’s neck, and began to rub her face against Regina’s tits. At last Traci took a succulent, dark nipple into her mouth. She was in heaven as she licked and sucked and sucked and licked. While Traci was worshipping Regina’s breasts, her hands roamed down Regina’s sides and took hold of her bottom. Grabbing a butt cheek in each hand, the blonde mother began to squeeze them through Regina’s gray slacks.

Regina enjoyed the erotic feelings radiating throughout her body immensely. It was sheer heaven to have this brainwashed vixen service her needs, being one of the perks for being a loyal agent to her Goddess.

Using her hands, Regina guided Traci’s head further down her body until she was eye-level with her crotch. Traci picked up quickly, unzipping Regina’s pants and working them down her legs. She saw pink silk panties with white lace trim greeting her. She also took notice of the large wet spot on them. She leaned in closer to take a whiff of the sexual musk emanating from the panties. The smell was so alluring and tantalizing it begged Traci to uncover its source. Using her teeth, Traci slowly began to lower the panties and expose Regina’s wet, smooth pussy. Licking her lips at the sight, Traci dove straight in and began her oral assault on it. Using her tongue to trace around the outer lips and then to wedge inside Regina’s cunt, she fell into lapping at its juices, occasionally resting her tongue on Regina’s clit and rolling around it.

At this point Regina’s womanhood was raging with lust. Her hands were clutching Traci’s hair and using them to grind Traci’s face into her crotch. It didn’t take long before an orgasm racked Regina’s body. Her back arched and locked into place while she grabbed on to Traci’s hair for dear life.

At length, Regina loosened her grip and descended from her sexual high. Looking downwards she saw Traci’s face covered in her wetness. Traci licked her lips, trying to capture as much of the juice as she could with her tongue while savoring the taste.

“You were amazing, pet.”

“I aim to please, Mistress.”

“Lie on your back, pet. Mistress wants to taste your yummy pussy.”

Without missing a beat, Traci laid herself down on the floor and spread her legs to grant her mistress access to her pussy. Regina stared at the blonde beauty lying on the floor before getting on her knees and settling herself between Traci’s legs. Using her hands she began to stroke Traci’s thighs.

“Soon,” Regina thought to herself. Soon I’ll have that girl’s fresh young pussy, too... and many more like it, as well... A wicked smiled appeared on Regina’s face as she thought of what was in store for Claire.

As Claire began her trek back to the dorms she couldn’t shake the melancholic feeling hanging over her. What was going to happen to her? She had just discovered that the scholarship she had was pretty much useless, and now her future rested on a plan which seemed to her, now that she was starting to think about it, to be just as likely to fail as to succeed.

Taking out her smartphone, she dialed the number she had for the organization which had been sponsoring her scholarship. After three rings, an answering machine responded. “Hello you have reached the offices of the Whittham Scholarship and Charity Foundation. Unfortunately we are unable to take your call. However, if you would like to leave a brief message and a callback number, please do so after the tone. We will contact you as soon as possible.”

beep

Claire hung up without leaving a message and let out a heavy sigh. This was her fifth attempt to get a hold of someone at the scholarship organization and each attempt had met the same result: just an answering machine picking up and no one to talk to. She looked up to the sky and took a deep breath before exhaling.

“Lord, I know that thou worketh in mysterious ways and often times thou doth place a few trials and tribulations on our path to strengthen us, to prepare us, to guide us to the next step in our lives. All I humbly ask is that thou mayest lend me thy guidance and light the way for me so that I not stumble and veer off course on the road thou hast set before me. Amen.”

Claire finished her short prayer by pulling out her cross pendant and touching it to her forehead, then continued her way to her dorm building. But, despite her prayer, a sense of doom continued to settle over her and each succeeding step felt heavier.

Finally arriving at her dorm apartment, Claire walked in to the sounds of the TV in the common room. Rounding the corner of the hallway, she saw a lone figure sitting on the couch watching TV. It was one of her roommates, her favorite, closest, and most mature one, Jessica Harrison, dressed in a red nylon tank top and grey spandex workout leggings, her smooth, shoulder-length honey brown hair pulled back in a shiny, short ponytail bound with a simple yellow scrunchie. She was flipping through the channels with the remote.

Jessica’s gym wear did little to hide her sexy body. Her firm C-cup breasts pushed out the red tank top in an eye-catching display and the spandex material of her leggings clung tightly to the toned muscles of her ass and long legs. Jessica’s tall, athletic body and pretty face were made all the more interesting by her skin—smooth, flawless, and a light caramel color, the product of her primarily Caucasian parentage blended with a small part of African-American ancestry.

Jessica put her 5′10″ height and athletic skills to use playing for Preston University’s women’s basketball team, which provided her a full-ride athletic scholarship. She would sometimes joke, “As long I’m scoring, I’m learning.” She and Claire had met at the beginning of their freshman year at Preston, a year and a half ago now, when they were assigned to the same dorm apartment, along with Monica and Meredith, their other two roommates then and now. Jessica and Claire had taken an immediate liking to each other and had soon become the best of friends.

When Claire let her purse and backpack fall on to floor, Jessica’s attention was diverted from channel surfing.

“Hey, Clairebear, how’s it going?”

The look on Claire’s face was enough to tell Jessica that things were not going well for Claire. Taking a seat next to her friend, Claire let out a sigh and filled Jessica in on what had occurred to her.

“Whoa,” was the only response Jessica could give. After a pause she queried, “So, any idea what you plan to do next?”

“I’ve tried to contact someone at the scholarship foundation but only got their answering service.”

“So you think Ms. Burke is going to be able to come through for you?”

“Not sure, but it’s the only option I have at the moment.”

“Maybe you should tell your parents and get them to help you out.”

“No, I can’t do that.”

Claire just couldn’t go to her parents with this kind of news. Although they were a very loving, caring couple and would probably do whatever they could to help Claire out, she just couldn’t do this to them. The finances of raising a family had been a sticking point in her parents’ relationship.

And it had also been an ongoing source of frustration for her mother, Mary, to have Claire’s father working overseas so much during their married life, especially in recent years. Mary hid her feelings about it and dealt with it the best she could. However Claire could tell that her father working overseas bothered her mother a great deal. Claire recalled the arguments her parents had about it from time to time.

If Claire announced that she no longer had a scholarship to pay for her tuition, it would definitely add another log to that fire. Also, her sister, Wendy, was set to graduate from high school the following year and she had confided to Claire many times that she had her sights set on eventually attending a top-notch medical school to pursue her dreams of becoming a doctor. Claire was fairly certain that Wendy, who always had been a dedicated student, would probably get scholarships of her own to help with that, but there was no guarantee, if she received one, that it would pay all of her expenses. So, for now, her parents were doing their best to save at least some funds to make Wendy’s dream possible, but Claire knew it had been a struggle to do so.

“I just can’t do that, Jessica. I’m an adult now and I can’t turn to my parents every time a problem arises. I have to start handling things on my own, and I think this will be a good challenge for me.”

“True, but there’s no shame in asking for help when you need it. Trust me, Clairebear, I think this is going to be a situation you have to at least discuss with your parents.”

“I know. You’re right, of course. I probably will if this thing with Ms. Burke doesn’t pan out, but asking them for help would be a last resort, and even then I don’t know that they are in a position to do much for me. For now, I think I’m going to keep this under wraps, as far as they are concerned.”

“So, what are you going to do, cut off all communication with your family?”

Jessica brought up a good point. Since leaving home for college, Claire had stayed in contact with her family through regular phone calls, webcam chats, and e-mails. But her mother could read Claire like a book and would easily guess that something was amiss the moment they started talking next time. Pondering on her situation a minute, Claire decided that the best option was to limit her communication with her family for the time being. While it bothered her to hide the truth from them, Claire still wanted to prove that she could handle this on her own.

“No, I’ll just have to limit myself to e-mails for now, until I get a better grasp on this situation.”

“Your call, but I still say that it’s a good idea to let your parents know.”

“I know, but not right now.”

“Alright, you might not tell your parents now, but promise me that you’ll at least keep me in the loop. Granted, I can’t spot you the tuition costs, but you don’t have to go through this alone. I can at least try to lend a hand or two.”

“Thanks. That means a lot to me right now.”

Claire reached over and gave her friend a hug, and Jessica returned it with a gentle pat on the back. Claire enjoyed the warmth and curves of her friend’s body, the silkiness and fresh, light fragrance of her skin and hair, and the sleek texture of her nylon tank top. Running her hands along Jessica’s back, Claire felt and noted with a peculiar interest the straps of her friend’s bra through the nylon. Claire was mildly surprised that she had never quite noticed before what a pleasant physical presence Jessica had, but it was quite delightful, nevertheless.

A voice spoke faintly in Claire’s head, her own voice but somehow different. “I want to be closer to Jessica. I want our friendship to be deeper. I want to spend more time together with her, just us…”

A picture popped into Claire’s mind. They were still embracing, but Jessica’s top was off. Claire’s fingers found the clasp to Jessica’s bra and undid it. The image disappeared as fast as it had come, but it left Claire bemused.

What a funny thought.

In the meantime, Claire’s fingers had unconsciously sought out and located Jessica’s bra clasp through the nylon of the tank top and she was lightly fingering it. Both girls noticed it peripherally, but neither saw any meaning in it other than as part of their contented hug, which was continuing longer than any they had given each other before, Claire losing track of time and prolonging it without realizing it and Jessica not minding, understanding that her roommate perhaps was in need of some extra comfort in the face of her traumatic day.

The friendly moment was interrupted when suddenly they heard an argument coming from outside the apartment. The argument got louder as the persons arguing with each other got closer to the apartment door.

“For crying out loud, I don’t see what the big deal is!” yelled one of the voices.

“The deal is that you’re trying to buy your grades, you witless ninny!” screamed the other voice.

“And there’s the six o’clock alarm, and right on time as usual. Now if they only came with a snooze button!” Jessica said in a sarcastic tone.

The alarm in question consisted of Monica Morales and Meredith Hubbert, Claire’s other two roommates.

Monica was a Hispanic beauty whose family owned and operated the largest chain of banks in the counties surrounding her home town. Her wealthy family had raised her in a life of privilege, and she was used to getting whatever she wanted. To call her merely “spoiled” would be a considerable understatement. She was willful, determined, temperamental, and not always ethical, if ethics stood in her way. If she couldn’t get what she wanted with money, Monica would flaunt her beauty and her curvaceous body to daunt, overwhelm, or seduce people into doing what she wanted. Her silk-like raven black hair, which flowed from her slightly curled, full bangs in lush tresses to her waist, perfect facial features, bronzed skin, large voluptuous breasts, wide hips, round and smooth Latina butt, and long legs were the arsenal given to her when she hit puberty, and she had been using them ever since to get what she wanted in life.

Claire, Monica, Jessica, and Meredith had been together as dorm-mates since the start of their freshman year around one and a half years ago. From the beginning and for much of that first year, Monica’s personality had created significant tension within the apartment. She had expected them all to do what she said and to stay out of her way. Her temperament had often been either moody and sullen or explosive.

Claire, however, had made an effort to be a friend to Monica and to steer her into more patience and consideration with her roommates, and by midway through their second semester Monica had started to act less like a spoiled brat and to treat her dorm-mates more amiably. By the end of the school year, she had mellowed enough and they had all grown close to the point that they had chosen to live together again their sophomore year.

That is not to say that Monica was not still self-centered, vain, egotistical, willful, argumentative, manipulative, and open to breaking the rules, if she felt it suited her, but she now had matured some, was easier to live with most of the time, and was even held by each of them—with the possible exception of Meredith—to be a good friend.

Meredith Hubbert was the resident geek of the quartet. While Claire, Jessica, and Monica would discuss topics of fashion, social trends, and men in whom they took an interest, Meredith would talk about comic books, video games, the latest tech gadgets, and old sci-fi TV shows. Meredith’s appearance, however, defied the typical image of a geek, except for the way she dressed. She was an undeniably attractive young woman, whose medium-length, medium-dark auburn red hair showered onto her shoulders in soft waves and loose curls and framed a pretty face which displayed crystal blue eyes, delicate features, and a light, cute dusting of freckles. On the short side at 5′4″ and not as curvy as her better-endowed roommates, her petite body was nevertheless eye-catching, sporting two perky, apple-sized breasts and a cute, tight ass which garnered their fair share of lustful stares on the rare occasions she wore tight clothing, and which assets, combined with her striking overall slimness and coloring, yielded an appealing impression of fine, young, developing physical femininity—that is, if one could look past her nerdy clothes and interests.

Meredith’s geek-like ways could be traced back to the fact that she was the only sister to five older brothers, all of them geeks who had treated her more like a brother than a sister. While they were growing up, her brothers had pulled her in to their pastimes and shared their toys and other possessions with her, so it was natural that their interests became hers as well. Furthermore, as a child most of her clothes had been hand-me-downs from the boys and she became accustomed to them. It wasn’t until she had entered her sophomore year of high school that her parents had started buying her suitably girlish clothes and accessories. But by then her tastes had been set, at least for the time being, so she had persisted favoring boyish and geeky fashions, pastimes, and possessions.

Meredith and Monica had proven to be incomprehensible to each other. The Latina had never known a girl like Meredith, couldn’t understand her lack of “girlishness”, and for most of the previous school year had exercised even less respect and patience with Meredith than with her other two dorm-mates. And that attitude had been resented and reciprocated on Meredith’s part.

While, through Claire’s friendship and Monica’s gradual softening, Monica had become nicer to everyone in their apartment, and Meredith had adjusted to Monica and recognized and appreciated her improved attitude, the truce between Meredith and Monica was nevertheless still rather tentative and their relationship was characterized by frequent jabs at each other and intermittent flair-ups. But even if it sometimes seemed that Monica and Meredith would always be at odds with each other, they normally were both considerate and smart enough to stay out of each other’s way most of the time as their own way of maintaining the general peace in the dorm apartment.

Most of the time.

“I’ve told you already, I’m not doing your stupid accounting assignment!”

“I thought you nerd types enjoyed working with numbers. Besides, I said I would pay you for it.”

“Do you honestly think you can just buy your way through life?”

“Absolutely, I believe it’s what people call employment. I give people money, they do what I want. All I’m doing is just giving you a preview of what your life is going to be like after college,” replied Monica in a matter-of-fact tone with a slight touch of a Spanish accent.

“Oh, thank you so very much!” Meredith’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Do you really think I am that desperate for money that I would help you fake your way through yet another class? You are so full of it. You can take your little ‘job offer’ and …” Meredith stopped short, flustered. “Monica, why don’t you just do the work yourself for once? You might even learn something!”

“Here I am trying to help a friend out, and all you can do is just spit in my face. Honestly, you really should take me up on my offer. Maybe you can save up to get some work done to remove those god-awful ugly blemishes on your face,” Monica replied in a venomous tone. It was true Meredith had a pimple or two occasionally in the past and, of course, some freckles, in contrast to Monica’s ever-flawless complexion, but Monica’s exaggeration infuriated the redhead. Meredith balled her hands up into fists, seemingly ready to drive one or the other straight into Monica’s face.

“Ahem, do I need to separate both of you and give each of you a time out?” interrupted Jessica.

Both Monica and Meredith shot icy stares at each other, but made no other move. Jessica, with her imposing height, had so far never had to get physical in keeping the peace between Monica and Meredith, but neither girl wanted to push their luck and find out if she would resort to it.

“She started it!” both said simultaneously, with fingers pointing at the other.

“And I’m ending it! Both of you need to drop it or take it some where else, because if you two idiots took the time to dislodge your heads from your asses you would see that Claire could use the support of her friends right now instead of having two of them trying to rip each other’s throat out in front of her.”

While Jessica, knowing her tall, athletic figure could be intimidating, would often be stern and threaten force in resolving disputes between Monica or Meredith which appeared to be on the point of escalation, Claire, in contrast, would take more of a gentle, motherly approach to calming them down, and she never failed greeting them jovially and manifesting a cheerful attitude. This afternoon, however, Claire had said nothing, having waved hello to the girls weakly when they had entered and now remaining slumped on the couch with a gloomy expression on her face. Monica and Melanie turned their attention to Claire and, when they saw their friend uncharacteristically in an apparently depressed state, it struck them both with concern.

Monica recalled the moment that she had realized Claire truly was someone she could call a friend. It had been near the end of her freshman year, and her birthday had been coming up. When she had been living at home, all of Monica’s birthdays had been lavish events, with lots of gifts and a big party with her family and her many friends. This was to be her first birthday away from home, and she knew it would be different this time, but she had hoped that at least her parents would come for a visit, and maybe throw a surprise party for her as well. However, in the days leading up to this birthday, she had only received a phone call from her mother wishing her a happy birthday and her father had sent her a birthday card with a check made out to her.

When she had realized her family was not going to do anything special for her, Monica had settled on throwing her own birthday party, but even that didn’t work out, as few of her acquaintances were available for the time she had in mind. It had appeared she would be celebrating this birthday by herself. At that point Monica realized how alone she really was. In her home town, because of her family’s wealth and influence, Monica had always had the attention of her peers, but her family’s influence ended at the borders of her home area and here no one really knew what a prestigious person she was.

However, Claire had managed to find out when Monica’s birthday would be and threw her a little party in their dorm room with the help of Jessica and the nerd girl. At first, Monica had thought it was done out of pity, but, as the small party went on, she discovered that Claire’s intent was genuine and the party was done out of friendship. From that day forward, Monica had tried to be less of a bitch queen towards her roommates. She would slip every now and then, but at least she had been trying and Claire had seemed happy with that.

To see Claire in a funk reminded Meredith of herself during her high school years. Meredith had been a late bloomer. For most of her teenage years she had been as “flat” as a pancake and shorter and skinnier overall than most of the girls her age; that, added to her red hair, freckles, braces on her teeth, and geekish, boyish clothes and interests, had made her the target of prettier, more developed, popular girls and their vacant boyfriends at school. Many had been the days in which she had come home distressed and demoralized by the hazing. Her method of coping had been, when finally in the refuge of her home, to dive straight into a comic book, play a video game, or watch anime or a sci-fi TV show to try to escape from the black cloud hanging over her socially.

Meredith had hoped the derision would come to an end when, by half-way through her senior year of high school, the braces had come off, her freckles had started to fade, she had grown a little taller, and her body had finally started to fill out and develop some of the curves of a womanly figure. However, it had been a case of too little, too late, as the patterns of social interaction around her were already well established by then. Moreover, a few of the meaner girls at school had spread a vicious rumor that she had gotten plastic surgery, after which she had had to endure the popular girls calling her body fake, while some of the boys had boisterously demanded to feel her breasts and ass to see whether they were real.

Meredith had been happy when she had landed at Preston University because it had meant a fresh start for her. No one from her high school was attending Preston University, so Meredith’s past public image and social concerns would be unknown by anyone there. She could create a new, more normal identity. Perhaps, she thought, she could even take advantage of some of her nerdy ways by playing them up as being cool, using a “geek chic” angle. In any case, she was optimistic that her new beginning would lead to an improved social experience.

However, when she had moved into the dorm and had met her roommates for the first time, her heart had sunk. Monica, Jessica, and Claire all had the kinds of pretty looks, curvy, sexy bodies, and outgoing personalities which were so like those of the popular girls who had tormented her during high school over her delayed physical maturity and her other oddities, as they had judged them. Memories of how they had teased her endlessly about her freckles, flat chest and butt, and her taste in clothes had come flashing back. The day she met her pretty, curvaceous, personable roommates, Meredith fretted that she was now going to have to live with a group of the same type of snooty girls, and that she was doomed to relive the torments of high school.

It wasn’t that Meredith wasn’t proud of her body. She was now, especially as her breasts had continued their growth throughout her days at college, transforming from the size of small apples when she had started to their current size of large apples, or decent-sized oranges. It seemed like her hormones were making up for lost time. In fact, so enamored was Meredith with the fruit growing on her chest that, in the privacy of the bathroom it was not uncommon for her to lift them and press them together, to test their weight and gauge how much cleavage she could show if she wanted to.

And the rest of her body was catching up, as well. Jeans she had brought with her to college no longer fit her around the hips, and she had recently had to buy more. She was definitely no longer “scrawny”. Though still thin in her waist, legs, and arms, she knew she could put on a decent show of female curves if she wanted to now.

But she didn’t want to, not yet. She still compared herself to other girls, like her roommates, and, so conditioned was she to losing such comparisons, that she didn’t want to press the issue and stir up old, sick emotions unnecessarily. So she tended to wear loose, unstylish clothes that hid her shape, choosing to maintain her image as a nerdish girl, rather than take a risk.

Two other factors which mattered to Meredith’s self image were her skin and her hair. Her face had been dominated by freckles since her earliest recollection, and she had had some acne on top of that in high school. But over the last year or two, the freckles had been fading and were now more of a cute scattering across her nose than the freak show she had considered them to be earlier in her life. And, with some effective products her parents had bought for her, the pimples were now defeated and she had been experiencing a clear complexion for the past several months.

Her hair was another aspect of her appearance which had been improving. Once an embarrassing orangish red and naturally curly, too curly, to the point of being perm-like kinky, it had been yet another target of ridicule for her as a child, and she had tried to keep it short to tame its loud, unruly visual effect as best she could. But over the years it had lost its orange hue, acquired beautiful true-red tones, and darkened to its current fetching medium-dark auburn, and the curliness had moderated to leave her with merely shiny, loose natural curls and an attractive, wavy thickness. Noticing the improvement, she had started growing her hair out, and it now reached to and a little beyond her shoulders. What once had been a searing liability had become yet another lovely asset for her.

The mindset of years had been, just the same, very difficult for Meredith to break away from, and, as her college career had commenced, she still had found it excruciatingly uncomfortable to spend time in the company of pretty girls. When she had moved into her dorm, she felt surrounded and outnumbered by them. It was to her as if she were drowning in the very element, in the very feminine charms which had always out-competed her and mocked her own deficiencies in the past and from which she had hoped to escape at college.

Meredith had done her best to avoid her beautifully-endowed roommates over their first few weeks together, especially Monica, who came off quite clearly as the spoiled, popular type of girl Meredith most dreaded. But Claire had reached out to her and had patiently sought to form a friendship. It had started with simple small talk, though Meredith had been leery of Claire’s attempts, suspecting that Claire was simply one of Monica’s lackeys and was looking for something about Meredith to ridicule. However, Claire had persisted with a sincere interest in Meredith, had gained her trust, and had, over the ensuing weeks, induced Meredith to open up some, and to talk about her interests and hobbies. Meredith had been able to tell that, while Claire obviously shared little of the same background, she nevertheless made the effort to understand and was genuine about wanting them to become friends.

The steadfastness of Claire’s friendship became crystal clear during the middle of their first year together. Meredith had come down with a stomach virus on the very day a limited collector’s edition boxed set of the Doctor Who classic TV series was set to be released on DVD. Meredith had been eagerly looking forward to buying a copy and, since there was high demand for it and it was expected that most every store to carry it would be sold out by the evening, she had planned on hitting the closest store early. But she couldn’t get out of bed and would miss out. Later that day, however, while Meredith had been lying on her bed with nausea and a fever, cursing her luck, Claire had come in to check on her and also to surprise her with a get-well gift. To Meredith’s ecstatic joy, it was a copy of that limited collector’s edition DVD set.

From that day on, Meredith had trusted Claire as a true friend, one she could lean on. In fact, in the subsequent year they had known each other, Meredith had come to view Claire not only also as a sister, the sister she had never had at home, but also as a big sister, though they were the same age. She now even held Claire in some awe and had started to secretly idolize her a bit, which manifested in Meredith occasionally getting tongue-tied for a second or two around Claire.

But today, it was Claire who needed Meredith, and all of her roommates.

Monica was the first one to break the silence.

“Sorry, Claire, I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. Guess I can always pay somebody else to do my assignments.”

“I’m sorry also, Claire,” added Meredith. “I should’ve taken our argument elsewhere instead of bringing it here.”

“That’s okay. It happened and at least you guys aren’t arguing now. It’s just nice to be with friends right now,” responded Claire.

“So what’s got you so bummed out?” Monica inquired. “Normally you’re all sunshine and happiness. Whatever got someone like you down must be pretty dire.”

Taking a deep, calming breath, Claire repeated what she had told Jessica. She told them about last week’s call from the Financial Aid Office; the meeting with the Director of Student Financial Aid, Regina Burke; discovering that she had lost her scholarship and along with that her future at Preston University; and Regina offering hope with some kind of plan, one about which she had offered few details.

Meredith’s response was pretty much an echo of Jessica’s advice. “Wow, that’s a lot to take in. Claire, I’m going to have to agree with Jessica and suggest that you get your parents to help you out. I know you want to try and tackle this yourself, but I think it’s something that could spiral out of control real badly.”

“I got it!” shouted Monica.

All three turned toward Monica to hear what she could offer as a resolution to Claire’s troubles.

“I can get with my mom and fix you up with a loan from one of our banks and, hey, because you’re a dear friend I can get you the cash quickly and fix you up with a nice interest rate of 7.1%.”

“Really, an interest rate of 7.1%?” interjected Meredith. “You do know that it’s roughly $42,000 a year here. Why not just ask her for her first born child while you’re at it?”

“Hey, at least I’m offering a solution. Besides, it’s a great rate. Normally, my mom has our banks charge 9.2% for interest on college loans.”

“The sacrifices you’re willing to make for a friend.”

“Listen, nerd girl, I don’t see you using that brain of yours to come up with any ideas, so why don’t you just...”

“For crying out loud, will you two just scissor already and get it out of your system. I swear, the way you two argue, it’s like both of you are a couple in a bad relationship with each other.”

Jessica’s snippy comment induced both Monica and Meredith to scowl. This was not the first time Jessica had sarcastically insinuated that there was some kind of hidden sexual tension between them, and neither of them liked the implication, as they both considered themselves to be undeviatingly, unquestionably, solidly straight.

But Jessica had touched a nerve in another way. Secretly, both Monica and Meredith had come to genuinely like and admire each other and wanted a true friend relationship with the other. But both were trapped in their pattern of cynicism with each other and didn’t know how to break it.

It was still true that neither understood the other and found her perplexing, foreign, and mysterious. But that mystery had become a type of fascination. For the first time in her life, Meredith had gotten to live with the very kind of girl, in Monica, who had tormented her in high school. She had had the opportunity from close range to watch the workings of a confident and temperamental beauty, to observe the ways she chose her clothes, applied her make-up, took care of her hygiene, cared for and did her hair in a number of styles, wore jewelry, and manicured and polished her nails, to see what perfume she used, to watch her body language, the way she moved and carried herself, and the way she flirted with young men, and to listen to the way she spoke and the words she chose in various situations and with an assortment of people. Through observation, Meredith had formed an appreciation for Monica’s beauty, flair, and style—and had witnessed a soft and sweet side to her Latina nemesis, in the process—and had herself been learning how to be feminine and alluring.

Over the preceding summer at home, Meredith had started growing her fingernails long and taking care of them, had bought some cosmetics, nail polish, and other care products, and had experimented with them and with different hair styles in private, which was easier than in the past since most of her brothers had by then moved out. Then, during the recent Christmas vacation, she had bought and hidden away clothes that were not of the geek variety but something that would show off her sexual assets, gotten her teeth whitened, and had her hair cut in a cute shoulder-length style with bangs and some layering which added to her hair’s body and swing. When Meredith returned to Preston, she had kept her new products under wraps and resorted falling back to her previous clothing style, or lack thereof, and had not yet ventured to openly apply the lessons she learned, she now had a fair idea how to be a babe. And she had Monica to thank for that.

On Monica’s part, Meredith had been growing on her, as well. The raven-haired Latina had come to regard Meredith’s off-beat interests, as she at first saw them, as the sign of a girl who didn’t follow the crowd and knew how to have a good time in ways different from the mainstream. Monica had come to admire that independence, as she now saw it. And she had taken a liking to the redhead’s appearance—to her coloring (Monica had always found red hair arresting, and had even considered dying her own hair red, or at least giving it a reddish cast or red highlights), her fair skin and blue eyes, and her petite, delicate prettiness, so different from her own darker and lusher presence. Plus, when they had come back to school for the start of the semester, Monica had noticed Meredith’s cute new hairstyle, her now clear, blemish-free skin, the way the girl’s body had continued to “fill out” over the last year, and perhaps a little more confidence in Meredith’s bearing. In fact, despite her derogatory comments, the gorgeous Hispanic girl now held Meredith as her prettiest and most interesting roommate. Moreover, Monica was starting to realize that part of what had driven her resentment of Meredith might even have been envy.

Both girls had come independently to the conclusion that they wanted to be true friends. Both had the desire to move beyond their petty feuds, reveal herself, and clear the air. Both wanted peace and friendship, and were primed for a healthy, sisterly relationship. But their pride kept getting in the way. The cycle of tit-for-tat attacks and the need to prove a point and defend one’s image seemed insurmountable. Neither wanted to be the first one to back down or open up.

Both girls had separately and discretely confided their dilemma to Claire, and she had advised each of them to spend some time together outside the apartment, such as to go on errands or to walk to classes together, and they had both agreed, without the other one knowing, to try to do that. In fact, today’s little argument had occurred at the tail end of their first such foray, one suggested by Monica to Meredith, which had been an otherwise pleasant and beneficial walk home together from their last class of the day.

“Come on, Jessica, give them a break. They’re just offering their advice, and besides, it’s just their way of being friends.” Claire did her best to smile. “I really want to thank you all for your support.” Claire went to each one and gave them a warm hug. When she hugged Meredith and Monica, she whispered in their ears, “Keep trying.”

“Right now my best chance lies with Ms. Burke. We’ll see if she manages to get her plan off the ground. If not, I’ll have to get my parents involved, and I’ll have to look elsewhere for financial aid. Maybe you can set me up with a meeting with a representative from one of your family’s banks, Monica, if it comes to that.”

“No problem. I’ll do what I can for a friend,” said Monica

“Same here, Clairebear.” said Jessica. “Just don’t try to bite off more than you can chew.”

“Ditto, Claire” responded Meredith.

Some time later, Claire was in her room sitting at her desk typing an email out on her laptop, addressed to her family.

Hi Mom, Dad, and Wendy

So far, the college life has been going great, and I’m enjoying my time here learning at Preston. Florida is great, even balmier this time of year than back home in California. However, it still doesn’t beat the fact that I miss you all so much.

Things are really picking up here. Class work is starting to build up and assignments getting more involved. This semester’s even harder than last. And to think I thought my freshman year was rough!

Got a lot on my plate so to speak so letting you guys know in advance that you probably won’t be hearing from me as much. Maybe an e-mail or two until the semester ends. So just want to let you know that I’m doing fine and can’t wait to see you all when I come home for summer in late May.

Love,

Claire

P.S. Got the care package. Roommates loved the cookies you sent :)

As a finishing touch Claire used the laptop’s webcam to take a snapshot of herself smiling and giving the peace sign and attached it on the e-mail. She moved the cursor over the “send” button and let it hover there for a moment. It bothered Claire that she was lying to her family but this was something she felt she had to do. Taking a deep breath she clicked on the “send” button and watched as her e-mail was sent to her family. She hoped her situation would have a happy ending, one which could make it possible for her to eventually look back at this crisis and laugh.

Claire’s train of thought was broken when her smartphone started to ring. She picked it up and, from the number on the display, one not yet listed in her smartphone’s memory but one which she nevertheless recognized, she immediately knew who was calling. “Hello?” There was anticipation in Claire’s voice.

“Claire, darling, hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“No, not at all, Ms. Burke, I was just relaxing and collecting my thoughts.”

“Claire, didn’t I tell you to call me Regina.”

“Sorry, forgot. With all that’s been going on, it just slipped.”

“No worries, my dear, no worries at all. Well, I’m sure you know what I’m calling you about, don’t you?”

There was a moment of silence. Claire’s mind focused intently now on this conversation, excluding everything else.

“Now, before I tell you, you have to remain calm and concentrate. Do you understand me, Claire? There are some details I have to go over with you, and I don’t want you to miss out.”

“Absolutely, Regina, you have my full, undivided attention.”

“Very well. As I mentioned earlier, I have a plan to help you and the other students affected by this horrendous situation. I’m happy to report that I have some good news. I’ve managed to convince some very influential people to assist me in making sure that you and your fellow students affected by the scholarship bankruptcy will be aptly covered until you graduate from Preston University.”

It was very hard for Claire to not scream with joy upon hearing this. She was using every ounce of willpower to remain calm. Her hands trembled as Regina’s good news sank in. It appeared that Claire’s prayer had been answered and that she once again had reason to hope for a bright future.

“What I’ve essentially done is managed to convince some very wealthy people to sponsor you and your fellow co-eds through the remainder of your time here at Preston. However, before they agree to commit, they need to know something about the people they’re going to invest in, so to speak. So I managed to set up a meeting where you can tell your prospective sponsor a little about yourself. Let me know if you have a pen and a piece of paper handy so I can give you the time and the address.”

Claire grabbed a pen and some scrap paper from her desk. “Got it. I’m ready when you are, Regina.”

“The sponsor meeting will be at the Artemis Center at 413 Queen Smith Road tomorrow at 2pm. Does that work for you?”

While Claire had a class during the time the sponsor meeting was scheduled, she was willing to skip it if it meant ensuring her future at Preston University. The only thing that concerned her was the location of the meeting.

“So, the meeting will be held off campus?”

“Yes. The Artemis Center is on the other side of town, a block away from Avondale Parkway. I’m sure you know where that is. Is that going to be a problem?”

Claire knew how far away the cited location was and realized she wouldn’t have ready access to easy transportation to that address so far off-campus at that time of day. She mostly biked or walked to get around the university and to visit other nearby places and, for the times when she had to go very far off-campus, Claire usually would get a ride from a roommate, but at the time in question all of her roommates had classes. Claire knew she could ask, and one of them would probably agree to drive her or let her borrow a car, but she didn’t want to inconvenience them. That left public transportation.

“No, not really. It’s just that I don’t have a car so I’ll have to take a taxi or the bus to get there.”

“Nonsense, Claire. How about this: Traci will be working at the office till noon and then will be heading over to the Center to assist me to set up. You can ride along with her.”

“I don’t want to impose on Traci.”

“Claire, trust me. You’re not imposing and I insist. After all, you want to be punctual for something like this and, while public transportation is good, it isn’t one hundred percent reliable.”

Regina did bring up a good point. After quickly thinking it over, Claire agreed to Regina’s offer.

“Well, as long as Traci’s okay with it, then that’d be great. Thank you so much.”

“Excellent! And you’re welcome, Claire. I’ll call Traci first thing tomorrow and let her know that you’ll be riding along with her.”

“I just want to say thanks again, Regina. You don’t know how much your help means to me.”

“No trouble, my dear. As I’ve said before, I’ll do whatever I can for the students at Preston and for their well-being. Now get some rest. You’ve got a big day ahead of you, dear.”

“Absolutely. Regina, take care and have a good night.”

After the call ended, Claire’s screams of joy and excitement didn’t go unnoticed by her dorm mates. She quickly shared her good news with them.

Meanwhile, in a large home in an upscale suburban neighborhood not too far way from the university, Regina was nude and reclining on the couch in its living room. Clicking her phone off and setting it down on the end table next to the couch, she couldn’t help but smirk at how things were going according to plan. Taking a puff from her cigarette, she blew out a plum of smoke and focused her attention on the two equally naked women, Traci and her new bride Natasha, standing in an intimate embrace in the middle of the room and making out with each other with sensual passion. Each was avidly exploring the other’s mouth with her tongue while using her hands to caress the other’s body.

“I think you two have spent enough time lavishing attention on each other—although I can’t blame you. I love seeing a sexy mother and her beautiful daughter so much in love, like you are. What a pair of foxy sluts. But your mistress could use some of that attention now.”

“Absolutely, Mistress,” the panting blonde mother responded.

“Your desires are our desires, Mistress,” added the pretty brunette daughter.

Spreading her legs, Regina made a come-hither gesture to Natasha, beckoning her to service her wet pussy. Dropping to her hands and knees, the girl crawled toward Regina’s open thighs. As she got a closer look at the female nectar dripping from Regina’s pussy, she could not help but lick her lips. She knew from previous encounters that this was a wonderful pussy, and Natasha’s love for it returned in full force the moment her tongue touched Regina’s sweet, juicy labia for a first taste. Pausing a moment to look up into Regina’s light grey eyes for approval to continue, Natasha placed her mouth on Regina’s pussy and began her oral service on it in earnest. In but a few moments, Traci’s daughter was lapping at the treasure fervently.

“I’m sure you—oh, ah, oh, yes! you darling thing, oh, just like that!—you overheard the conversation, Traci, so make sure to proceed accordingly. Oh, ahhh!”

“Absolutely, mistress”

After saying this, Traci, who had been eyeing her daughter’s cute bare, young ass waging back and forth in front of her as the girl lost herself in Regina’s ripe lovebox, could no longer resist the teasing spectacle, knelt down behind the girl, placed her hands on Natasha’s ass cheeks, began to fondle and massage them, and showered little affectionate kisses all over the smooth, fresh rump. Then, wanting more of her succulent teen wife, she placed her thumbs into the crevice between the girl’s cheeks, spread them apart, exposing her daughter’s puckered rosebud, and dove in, giving her daughter a probing rimjob. Natasha gasped in surprise, and then let out a long, delighted moan as she felt her mother work her tongue on and into her asshole.

Regina basked in the erotic sights and sounds, the carnal pleasure, and the Sapphic emotions playing before her and swirling around and through her. She had a sweet young newlywed lesbian bride eating her pussy as if they were long-lost lovers, while the bride’s own mother—and wife—was giving her daughter’s tender ass a thorough sexual workout, all to the accompanying, musically sloshy, slurpy sounds of lesbian lust. Life was truly good. It couldn’t get any better as far as Regina was concerned.

Except...there actually was one event at hand, and even now in the works, one impending transformation, one addition to her life, which promised to make Regina’s existence even sweeter... the mouth-watering, unsuspecting Claire Love-Livingston...

The thought of Claire and what would soon become of her pushed Regina over the brink. Feeling the onrush of a powerful orgasm, Regina clutched Natasha’s head and pulled her deeper between her legs, coming all too close to smothering the young brunette in her crotch.

No one there thought that would be a bad way to die.

Some time around ten the next morning, Claire was in the midst of preparing herself for the sponsor’s meeting. She was going through her wardrobe, trying to select clothes that would cast a right first impression in her effort to gain a sponsor for the remainder of her college career. A knock on her bedroom door, which was cracked open, announced the presence of Monica.

“Morning, Claire,” greeted the Latina through the opening in the doorway. “Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

“Good morning, Monica. Come in.” As Monica walked in, Claire suddenly became aware that she was dressed in only her bra and panties, and felt a mixture of vulnerability and excitement, which she had never experienced before when so dressed with Monica or any other female in a bedroom or bathroom. It was, after all, just another girl who was with her, and being in one’s underwear around another girl in an apartment of girls was not unusual, or at least it never had seemed so before. Claire attempted to dismiss the sensation, although it floated in the air for her until she had more clothes on.

“Still trying to pick something presentable for this meeting.” Claire gestured to the various blouses, polos, shirts, jeans, khakis, and capri pants lying on her bed.

“I figured you might be having this trouble so I brought you this.”

Dangling from hangers held in one hand was an elegant women’s business suit in royal blue, composed of a jacket, a crème colored short sleeved silk dress blouse, and a knee-length skirt, and in Monica’s other hand was a makeup kit. Knowing Monica’s expensive tastes in clothes, Claire assumed that the suit was hand-tailored for Monica and, given the fine silk and wool materials used and the obviously superb craftsmanship in the tailoring, it was something that the average college student definitely couldn’t afford.

“Oh wow. This is a beautiful outfit. You really don’t have to do this, Monica.”

“Claire, come on, this is an important meeting. I think you realize that a solid first impression is going to be needed here.”

Claire couldn’t argue with that. She was going to meet someone who would be paying her way at Preston University. This was an occasion in which her knowledge and charming personality would need to be framed by her best possible physical appearance.

“Thanks, Monica. It’s just that this is so nice. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Claire, don’t worry about me. I’m genuinely pleased to help. And you deserve someone watching out for you, more than anyone I know.”

Monica handed Claire the business attire and set the makeup kit on her bed.

“I think it might be a little loose in some areas but you should be able to pull it off. Also, I recommend using at least the rose petal blush, royal midnight mascara, and carmine lip gloss. Come on lets try it on.”

“This is so nice of you, Monica. I really, really appreciate it.” Claire gave her friend a little hug. Awareness of being skimpily dressed returned with a rush as Claire felt Monica’s soft hands on her bare back. The beauty’s touch left Claire and her back tingling pleasantly for a few seconds after the smooth hands slipped away.

“Hey, what are friends for?” said Monica, truly happy that she could make a difference in some small way in the life of this girl of whom she was so fond.

Claire debated wearing pantyhose, and decided that the suit almost dictated it, so she slid a pair on, followed by fetching a full slip from a drawer and pulling it on over her head. It crossed Claire’s mind that it had been a while since she had dressed up like this. Claire also briefly wondered what Monica thought of her body and her dressing in intimate apparel in front of her. For Claire, Monica watching her gave her the feeling that she was putting on some kind of show for Monica, like a strip-tease but in reverse. Claire looked at the black-haired girl but her face revealed no similar thought. Claire dismissed the impression as a strange one for her to have, and took the blue skirt off the hanger.

After Claire dawned the skirt, put on the blouse, and tucked it in, she turned toward Monica again, now looking for approval regarding the appearance of the outfit so far. This time, she noticed, though, that a look of concern was gradually creeping across Monica’s face.

“Something wrong, Monica? You’re looking like I’m about to march off into the lion’s den.”

“I…I didn’t want to bring this up with the others around…and maybe it’s none of my business…but…I thought I should let you know… It’s something I’ve heard about Regina Burke.”

Prior to her appointment with the Director, Claire had been curious about the person with whom she would be meeting and had consulted the university website. She had found only a very brief and unremarkable entry about Ms. Burke’s academic and professional background, so she didn’t know anything else about Regina other than what she had observed in person, though that had left quite a favorable impression. Hearing Monica speak the name of her savior, the marvelous Ms. Burke, piqued Claire’s interest. Although Claire made it a point to avoid gossiping, and normally didn’t put much stock in rumors such as the one which, it seemed, was about to divulged by Monica, she did want to know more about the woman who had gone out of her way to assist her. Maybe she could use whatever intelligence Monica had to pay the woman back for her kindness.

“I’ve heard rumors that Ms. Burke is a lesbian.” Claire raised her eyebrows. “I know she’s saving your future here at Preston, but, for all you know, she could be using your scholarship situation to take advantage of you and try to get into your panties. You are, after all, a babe. If she is a lesbian, you’d definitely be someone she’d zero in on.”

Claire couldn’t believe what she had just heard. It didn’t seem to fit the woman she had met the previous day and who was helping her get her future back on track, not this wonderful woman who had taken an interest in her like her own mother would have. The rumor and Monica’s insinuation struck Claire as humorously absurd, and she couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle.

“Oh, come on, Monica. You can’t believe everything you hear. And, besides, when did you start keeping tabs on the university staff?”

“As a person trying to establish her powerbase, I like to keep my ears open about what’s going on around campus and in the community. You know, who’s who and what’s what. You never know when you might find out something useful or meet someone who can help you make connections. Anyway, one day at lunch, I was sitting close to a couple of campus secretaries or bureaucrats of some kind, thinking I’d get to know them and network a little, when I heard one of them say to the other that she had heard someone make that comment. Well, it was a speculation, really, but...”

“So you overheard someone who heard someone else say something that was a guess? Monica, that’s just sheer gossip. Tell me you don’t believe stuff like that.”

“Hey, I’m just letting you know what I heard. Granted, it’s a rumor, but it must have started somewhere and for some reason. Someone has to have seen or heard something somewhere in order for it to exist. Think about it, Claire. Once Ms. Burke met you and saw what a little beauty you are, and then told you the bad news, she would have known that you’d be desperate to do just about anything to stay here. And then she comes up with this little meeting. Off campus. Maybe just with her. Or with some other lesbians. You don’t know. What if she tries something? Like, to seduce you?”

“That’s pretty far fetched, Monica. Really. If she were like that—you know, a lesbian—

she could have tried to put some move on me during our first meeting. But she didn’t. She didn’t come close to anything like that. She was totally professional. It was all above-board and, if anything, she was acting more like my mother than anything else. I think that alone should tell you how true that rumor really is.”

“Or she could be bidding her time and planning to put the moves on your later, like at this meeting,” persisted Monica.

Walking up to Monica, Claire put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I appreciate the concern, Monica, I really do. But I just don’t think that’s what’s going on here. You don’t know that what you heard wasn’t just someone being jealous and catty. I’m going to file this under the category of “baseless rumors”. And maybe you should think twice, too, about believing every juicy tidbit that comes your way. As a person who wants to establish her powerbase, the last thing you want is some bad info that could steer you the wrong way and make you look bad.

“Plus, Monica, think about this: Even if she were a lesbian, and even if she liked me—you know, like that—what are the chances she’d risk her career to take up with some student? I think most people like that would want to keep their private life separated from their public life. And she, like everyone else, has a right to whatever lifestyle she wants in her free time, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. But I still think you’re wrong about her.”

“You have a point, Claire. Maybe you’re right. But I didn’t want to see you walk into something unaware.”

“I appreciate it, Monica, and, trust me, I’ll be fine. So... Could you help me finish getting ready?”

Without realizing it, Claire had kept her hand on Monica’s shoulder longer than she had intended. Part of Monica’s soft, shiny, long, deep black hair had been caught under her hand and some locks had draped over the back of her hand, as well; unconsciously, Claire had enjoyed its feminine silkiness and had not wanted to withdraw her hand. Now as she finally released Monica’s shoulder in order to finish dressing, she noticed that she liked being near to Monica like this, that she was feeling closer emotionally to Monica than ever before, and that she felt like being even closer to the Hispanic beauty. Perhaps it was because of Monica’s generosity with the suit, she assumed.

It dawned on Claire that the clothes she now wore had been on Monica’s body. That made wearing them better, even more of a privilege, something kind of exciting, in a way giving her some of that proximity to Monica that she desired.

Monica is so nice to let me wear this. It feels good, too. She must feel like this when she wears it. I need to do something nice for her.

Sensual, exciting truths Claire had encountered recently somewhere—she didn’t know where, it didn’t matter—passed through her as vague impressions, and seemed natural. Girls belong together... Girls should love girls... Girls should date girls... Roommates should be girlfriends...

Maybe I can take her out sometime. Kind of a “girl’s night out”. Just she and I. Maybe to dinner or something. Maybe a movie. What a very beautiful girl...

A few minutes later, Claire was all dressed up. After putting on the jacket, she slipped on the only shoes with notable heels she owned, a pair of plain black pumps with two-inch heels. Looking in the closet mirror, she was pleased to see that the business suit fit her body surprisingly well. The jacket was slightly tight around the chest area—which Monica noted to herself with surprise, as well as with a slight dismay that someone else could fill out the garment at least as well as she could, while it also gave her a new respect for Claire’s figure—but overall it wasn’t too restrictive.

Admiring herself, Claire fluffed her black hair out and turned partly this way and that, flirting with herself, not aware she was doing so, but merely understanding she was pleased with her appearance so far.

Monica assisted with applying the makeup she had suggested, and she helped Claire arrange her black hair into a professional-looking bun. “Now that’s nice,” said Claire after one last look in the mirror, before facing Monica. “Thank you so much, Monica. I feel ready now, thanks to you.”

“No, Claire, it’s a privilege to be able to help.” They smiled at each other with mutual appreciation and admiration for a second. “Now go knock ’em over!”

Walking out of her room, Claire found Jessica and Meredith in the living room waiting to give their appraisal of her.

“Looking great, Clairebear!” enthused Jessica. “You’ll definitely win them over.”

“Wow, niiice. Claire,” Meredith dittoed. “With the way you’re looking, I’m sure you’ll definitely get someone to sponsor you. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get someone to sponsor you based on your knowledge and talents and not your looks, not that there’s anything wrong with the way you look now or anything,” said Meredith in a flustered tone.

Walking up to Meredith, Claire gave her a reassuring hug.

“Thanks, Meredith. I appreciate the vote of confidence.” She unconsciously savored the superbly feminine slimness of the cute redhead’s body wrapped in her arms and the gardenia scent left by her shampoo in her beautifully-colored hair, before backing away.

“You sure you don’t need a ride, Clairebear?” volunteered Jessica.

“That’s really nice of you, but I know you have a class coming up. In fact, all of you do. You guys need to get going and stop worrying about me! Anyway, I already told Regina that I would ride with her secretary, Traci. I’m going to meet her at the Financial Aid Office.”

“Well, at least let me give you a ride to the administration building. Got to make sure you look your best when you get there. And I’m going in that direction anyway.”

Claire, not wanting her perfect appearance to be ruined by some unforeseen act of nature or by some reckless student, gratefully accepted Jessica’s offer to drive her. As not only Jessica but Monica and Meredith also had classes which were due to start soon, they all left the dorm and piled into the car together.

It was a five-minute drive to the administration building. When they pulled up to the drop-off curb, Claire, in the front seat with Jessica, gave her brunette friend a hug and assured her that she would call if she needed anything. Bidding her three roommates good-bye, to their wishes of good luck, Claire exited the car and walked toward the administrating building entrance, while the others drove to the student parking lot.

Upon arriving at the Financial Aid Office, Claire saw that the scene there was quite different from her previous visit. In place of the crowds and the chaotic levels of activity prevalent the previous afternoon, today the office was quite empty. The hushed sights and sounds of the ceiling lights and of the office equipment, with its blinking lights and random beeping sounds, in the backdrop of silence created a sterile feeling in the office.

Traci was right. This place is dead during the semester.

Traci wasn’t at her desk. Claire called out her name, but no one responded. Seeing no option other than to wait for Traci to return, Claire sat in the same chair in which she had waited the previous afternoon and, deciding to utilize her time, she proceeded to review some course notes she had put on her smartphone.

Guess she’s off doing an errand. Well, better to be early than late.

However, Claire’s arrival did not go unnoticed. The hidden cameras, using facial recognition software, identified her as one of Regina’s targets. After verifying who she was, the speaker system in the office began to play some low-volume orchestral music which Claire recognized as being from movie soundtracks. She had no idea where it was coming from or why it was playing, but she assumed it was simply part of the university sound system designed to maintain a pleasant atmosphere in various offices on campus, and she appreciated it. Masked in the music was a set of mind-altering messages specially designed for Claire.

“Claire, you are curious about lesbians.

“You secretly desire all the females that you know to be lesbians.”

As before, the subliminal messages quickly made their way through into Claire’s subconscious and began to alter parts of her psyche. They embedding themselves into her mind, some of them waiting for the right triggers to bring their effects to the surface.

“Lesbians are beautiful... Lesbians attract you... Lesbians fascinate you... You desire lesbians... All pretty girls and beautiful women should be sexy lesbians... It is good to be a lesbian... You too should be a lesbian...

“You like being attractive...attractive to women and girls... You want to be more beautiful...and sexier...so that sexy women and girls will desire you...and fall in love with you...and become lesbians for you...and have sex with you... Buy sexier clothes... Dress sexy...Wear make-up... Always wear make-up...and nail polish... Use a lot of make-up... Make-up is sexy... Claire should always be sexy...

“Sexy girls don’t need rules... You don’t want morals... Your religion is old-fashioned... You have outgrown it... You don’t need religion... Abandon your moral principles... You don’t want to be chaste...or good... It is better to be a slut... Claire should be loose...sexually loose...and wicked... It feels good to be bad... and slutty... Claire is a bad girl... You want to be a bad, slutty girl...and more beautiful... and very, very sexy...a free girl...free from morals...sexually free...a dirty girl...impure...unchaste...wild...fulfilled... happy... Claire should be sexy, loose, slutty, and a lesbian...

“You like Traci... You can’t wait to see her again... You love the way Traci looks... She is hot... You love the way she dresses.. It turns you on... You love looking at Traci...You can’t stop thinking about her...You want to see her in that blue dress again... Traci is very hot... You like hot, sexy women...

“You hope Traci is a lesbian... Traci and Regina should be lesbian girlfriends... You want them to be... Women dating women is sexy... It’s wonderful... You want to date women...women like Traci and Regina...You’d like to be a lesbian... Being with Traci makes you feel like a lesbian... You like the feeling... Being with her arouses you... Thinking of her arouses you... She makes you want to be a lesbian...You’d love to date Traci... You can’t wait to see Traci again...”

Claire waited about ten minutes before Traci finally showed up.

“Hello Claire. Good morning.”

“Good morning to you also, Traci.”

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Not really. I just got here a few minutes ago, so no worries.”

“Great to hear that. So…If you don’t mind, I need to do one thing here before we go and then we can be on our way, okay?”

“No problem. Don’t let me rush you, Traci. We still have plenty of time.”

Claire noticed that Traci wasn’t dressed as provocatively as she had been during their first meeting. This time, Traci had on a simple white, long sleeve, satin dress blouse, a dark purple skirt that went a little past her knees, black nylons, and a pair of simple black office flats.

I guess yesterday she just dressed that…that other way... for the university fundraiser.

Recalling how Traci was dressed during their first encounter and comparing it to how she was dressed now, Claire felt a twinge of disappointment. She couldn’t consciously pinpoint the reason why, but she seemed to prefer the provocative attire Traci wore yesterday to the more professional outfit she wore now, though she found today’s wear attractive and inviting as well...just not as much as yesterday’s stunning look. Maybe, she thought, she felt so because the sexy sun dress looked exciting; it was out of place, but in a fun way, standing out boldly and provocatively in the mundane, everyday atmosphere of an office. Yesterday when Claire had first seen Traci’s attire, it had seemed to her to be rather indecent and inappropriate in the office setting; today, looking back, it now seemed to have been simply a little daring, but in a cool way.

As she was thinking this, another line of thought crept into her mind. As far as Claire could tell, it looked like only Traci and Regina worked in the Financial Aid Office. That meant that Traci and Regina must have gone together—by themselves—to the fundraiser, representing their department. Did that mean Traci went as Regina’s date?

The moment that thought passed through her, she reprimanded herself. Get a hold of yourself, Claire! Regina has gone above and beyond to help you out and now you’re starting to believe those rumors. And why would you think that about Traci? You haven’t seen anything that would justify that! She’s just a normal and nice woman, too. Shame on you!

Nevertheless ………as Claire sat there she couldn’t help but reflect further. There was something kind of…fascinating…about the possibility…remote as it seemed………..….. Two beautiful women………like Traci and Regina...dating……. each other…….....

Claire, stop!... That’s ludicrous... It’s just so much fiction and it’s not my business and that kind of thing doesn’t interest me, anyway, so...

“Care for a drink?”

“Huh?” Claire shook herself out of her inappropriate train of thought. Traci was standing in front of her with what looked to be a small bottle of fruit juice in her hand and was offering it to her.

“Thank you.” Taking the bottle, Claire popped the cap open and took a drink.

“Mmmm. This tastes great! What is it?”

“Regina gets a case or two of this stuff from a friend of hers. It comes to her in sample packs. It’s one of those all-natural energy drinks….you know, natural, no preservatives, no artificial anything…just a bunch of goodness. That one that you have is my personal favorite. I believe it’s called ‘Passionate Fruit Lust’.”

“Weird name, but it tastes really good. Thank you so much.”

“No problem. I figured you could use a drink while you wait. I’m almost done, so just bear with me.”

“Take your time, Traci,” said Claire while looking at the time on her smartphone. “It’s a little past eleven thirty, so we still have a good amount of time.”

What Claire didn’t know was that the so-called energy drink was produced at a pharmaceutical facility. The original cousin of Claire’s drink had been developed there as a means for doctors to help young children who couldn’t or wouldn’t take medications in pill form or in typically bitter-tasting syrups. Once that innovation had proven viable and earned the company praise and profits, demand for special orders was such that this particular facility also had established a production line set aside to cater to that demand. On that line any kind of drug could be mixed with the various fruit juice flavors offered.

At first, this part of the business had been administered within the strict guidelines set forth by the government, but “special” requests of dubious legality had started to come in, with the promise of such great profitability that eventually the company had countenanced clandestine production runs with no questions asked, as long as the price was right. Regina had received a case or two of this kind of “special” product from her benefactor.

Using the office equipment on hand, it had not been difficult to produce labels appearing genuine enough to trick the untrained eye into accepting the bottles as containing some kind of legitimate energy drink. Claire’s drink was laced with a chemical which would dull her critical thinking and put her into a highly suggestible mental state.

Traci went back to her desk and, at her computer terminal, clicked on a “start” button to run a program. The previous set of masked subliminal audio messages had ended a few minutes before, so this program would start a new track, masked by the continuing movie music.

“Claire…You will always trust Regina and Traci... You trust and love them... Everything they say is true and right and good... You love being with them... You love looking at them...

“Claire is attracted to girls... You like pretty, sexy women and girls... You like the idea of making out with girls and having lesbian sex with women... Women kissing women is so good... Girls kissing girls and having lesbian sex is perfect...right...natural...and very beautiful... The idea makes you feel good…excited…aroused… You want to kiss and touch and love girls and women who attract you...

“Regina and Traci are beautiful women...sexy women... You are attracted to them... You find the thought of having sex with Regina and Traci appealing... Making love to a pretty, sexy woman like they are would be wonderful...

“You find yourself aroused by the female body... Breasts and waists and asses and legs of beautiful women are so lovely... They interest you and attract your attention... You love looking at them... They are compelling... They turn you on...

“You like looking at pretty women and girls and checking out their bodies... Traci is such a woman... Traci is a beautiful, sexy woman... You like Traci...more every minute... Traci attracts you...powerfully... You like her and desire her... She is irresistible to you... You love looking at Traci... You want to check her out... Her breasts are so big and beautiful and sexy... You love them... You’d love to see more of her breasts...and also her ass...and her legs... They are beautiful... She is so feminine and alluring and sexy... It is impossible not to look at her... Looking at Traci and other pretty and sexy women and girls is a very good thing and makes you feel wonderful...and sexy...and aroused...”

Traci smiled as she sat and watched Claire finish drinking her juice and unknowingly absorbing the messages being broadcasted to her. The effects of this indoctrination would not become permanent without Claire receiving repeated exposure to similar suggestions on future occasions, but its primary purpose this morning was to weaken Claire’s mind. The nature of this particular program was that it would have to run for at least thirty minutes for its messages to have the intended effect on Claire.

Claire didn’t notice, but the smile on Traci’s face assumed a wicked twist as she thought of the fate that would befall Claire. You will eventually become a lesbian sex fiend, Claire Amanda Love-Livingston, and I promise you’ll enjoy every step of the way.

Roughly twenty minutes into her waiting, Claire started to lose her focus. She couldn’t concentrate on her notes or anything else. She became a little fidgety in her seat. Without quite realizing what she was doing or why, she started to sneak glances at Traci working at her desk. At first, her glances lasted but a second or two and were spaced out every fifteen seconds or so, but before long she could not resist looking at Traci for five or ten, seconds at a time, or even longer, several times a minute.

When Claire’s interest in looking at the attractive receptionist had become so blatant that Claire could not overlook it any longer, she, oblivious to the true cause of her keyed-up state, first offered herself the excuse that she wasn’t quite herself, because she was in a unique state of anxiety mixed with boredom, and that her staring had been a natural way to pass the time. Finally she just admitted to herself that she liked Traci and thought she was very pretty, and that there was nothing else nearly as interesting to look at in the office.

“And done!” Traci said as she raised her arms in a mock victory pose. “Alright, Claire, you ready?”

Claire snapped out of her daze. “Absolutely.”

“Sorry for the long wait, but Regina needed a few things taken care of before the sponsor meeting.”

“No problem. I just appreciate you giving me a ride to the Center.”

“The pleasure is all mine. So, what have you been doing while you were waiting for me, Claire?”

Claire blushed, now realizing full well what she had been doing and how unlike her and inappropriate, if not rude, it had been to stare at Traci like that. But apparently Traci hadn’t noticed, and Claire was not about to let on.

“Oh, I was just looking at some notes on my phone.”

“Really? I’m glad you’re such a dedicated student, but weren’t you just staring out part of the time?”

Oh, no... Does she know I was looking at...at her?........ Or...or maybe she couldn’t tell...

“Yeah, some of the time I was just thinking.”

“About what? Or were you thinking about someone?”

Was I...was I thinking about her, too?....... I don’t think so. I think I was just looking. That’s all. She is very pretty. Very. I guess I couldn’t help myself. But that was so rude of me. I can’t let on.

“Oh, you know, I’m just a little nervous about this meeting…”

“Oh, of course you are! Duh. I’m sorry for prying, But you know, Claire... If you ever need to talk about anything…you can always talk with me. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Traci.”

“You bet. Well, if you want, let’s be on our merry way. Follow me.”

“Lead the way, Traci.”

Traci took the lead, and Claire followed her out of the building and through the parking lot to Traci’s car. Claire’s eyes regularly drifted downward to stare at Traci’s firm butt and legs. Claire marveled at how the globes of Traci’s ass swayed back and forth almost like they were begging Claire to stare at them. Traci’s long and slender legs even seemed to be inviting Claire to run her hands up and down them.

That skirt looks good on her. She looks great in it. And that blouse is nice. So soft and shiny-looking......... And yesterday...that blue dress…that was awesome. She looked...she looked amazing. Claire found herself wishing once more that Traci had worn the blue sundress again today.

After they arrived at Traci’s car and got in, Claire took a glance at Traci as she started to buckle up. The way the seat belt wrapped around Traci’s body seemed to push her breasts up. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Claire stared at the large fleshy orbs, and watched them push out Traci’s blouse like missiles under the glossy fabric and sway around with Traci’s movements and breathing.

“Do I have something on my chest?”

“Huh?” Claire was snapped out of her fascination by Traci’s question and quickly realized that Traci had caught her gawking at her breasts.

“You’re staring at my chest so I’m assuming that there has to be something on it. I mean, why else would you be staring at my chest?”

Claire fumbled for an excuse. “I…uh…I like your blouse… It… um… It looks great on you… I really love it.” It was a nice blouse, but not as extraordinary as Claire was suggesting. She knew it sounded like a flimsy excuse.

Claire felt more embarrassed than she could recall ever having been previously. Traci had caught Claire looking at her breasts no differently than had the leering male students and staff done on the day Claire had first seen Traci in the Financial Aid Office.

Why? Why was I staring at her breasts like that? Sure, she looks great, and her breasts are amazing, but that’s still not an excuse to leer at her like she’s some piece of meat.

“Thanks. I guess I like it, too. It’s conservative and really pretty ordinary, but it’s safe for a lot of situations. It’s versatile, as it goes with various outfits, and I think it adds a touch of understated class. In fact, I have at least two more blouses similar to this one at home, but in different colors. It’s something that doesn’t really stand out, but it’s nice to get a compliment about my clothes. Thank you for noticing, Claire.”

Claire just sat there red-faced and chagrined. She couldn’t tell if Traci was being polite to help her out of an awkward situation or whether Traci was simply oblivious to the fact that Claire had been staring at her breasts, similar to the way she had seemed not to notice Claire looking at her repeatedly back in the office.

“Oh my,” Traci said. “Your face looks flushed. Maybe you’re a little under the weather?” Reaching into her purse, Traci pulled out another bottle of fruit energy drink. “Here, since you liked the first one so much, I got us a couple for the road. Drink up. You need to try and stay perky for today. After all, it is a big day and we can’t have you getting queasy.”

“Thanks,” was all that Claire could muster to say as she meekly took the small bottle and placed it between her legs for the moment while she buckled her seatbelt. She felt touched by Traci’s concern and thoughtfulness. It occurred to her that Traci would be such a pleasant mate for the right person, a great girlfriend or wife, and whoever won her would have quite the prize. She wondered whether Traci was married or seeing anyone. Something inside her hoped she was not.

“Well, time to get going.”

Traci started the ignition, pulled her car out of the parking lot, and started the journey towards Artemis Center. Within a few minutes, they fell into small talk and Claire felt her embarrassment subside. The conversation eventually turned into a discussion about personal relationships.

“So, you dating anyone, Claire?”

“Not for the moment.”

“Really? I would think a beautiful girl like you would have a boyfriend by now. Or a girlfriend.”

Claire wasn’t sure she could have heard Traci’s last phrase correctly. And if she did, then she had no idea how to respond to it. Maybe Traci was just having some fun with her. In any case, Claire thought it would be best to just overlook it—although she found that the insinuation that she might be a girl who had a girlfriend, or should have one, or might be open to getting one, instead of a boyfriend, did not offend her in the least, oddly enough, but rather seemed like a reasonable and natural concept. And an intriguing one.

Realizing after a second that such a thought was incompatible with her core nature, she reminded herself that she wasn’t a lesbian and therefore had no interest, or ought to have no interest, in having a girlfriend, not that kind of girlfriend. Such things weren’t for her. Nevertheless, the seed Traci intended to plant in Claire’s head was now there to stay.

“Right now I’m just not looking for anything serious. With the course load I’ve built up, a long-term relationship isn’t really something in the cards.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your major at Preston University?”

“I’m working on a bachelors in political science, and then I hope to go to law school.”

“Oh my, sounds like you’ve got your whole life planned out. But don’t you miss a little company every now and then?”

“Well I’ve gone out a couple of times with different guys, mostly for fun, but I let them know that it isn’t going to go anywhere.”

“So there’s never been someone that occupied a special place in your heart yet? Don’t tell me that a lovely girl like you doesn’t get lonely every now and then.”

There was a bit of silence after Traci finished asking Claire her question.

“I did have one boyfriend. His name was Darren. We started dating in high school, but we broke up last summer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open an old wound.”

“Don’t worry. It was a mutual split, so no hurt feelings. We just realized that it wasn’t going to work out.”

“Do you mind if I ask what wasn’t working out?”

“It was too much of a long-distance relationship. He went to a college on the West Coast, and I’m here in Florida at Preston. We thought we could make it work, but, under the pressures of college course work and given the fact that we never got to see each other, we drifted apart. Our relationship was fizzling out and I could see it wasn’t headed anywhere. We agreed to cut if off cleanly before it turned into something negative for both of us.”

“You sound a little disappointed.”

“Guess I am little. I was hoping that I could make it work just like how my mom is making her marriage with my dad work, but I finally realized that it wasn’t going to happen.”

“What do you mean by how your mom is making her marriage work?”

“My mom and dad are currently in a long-distance relationship. Dad works mostly overseas and isn’t home much and Mom works back at home. So it can get frustrating at times, but she manages to find a way.”

“Your mom sounds like a very strong woman.”

“Yeah, she is. She’s smart, she’s honest, she’s compassionate, she’s nice, and she’s beautiful. She’s a good Christian, too. She likes natural things and wholesome values, and she lives her life like that, you know, with steadiness and simplicity. She’s been a dedicated mother and an outstanding example for my sister and me. I know it sounds hokey, but she’s the woman that I want to be like as I get older.”

“Sounds like the perfect role model. I think any girl would love to have a mother like yours.”

“Thanks, Traci. That means a lot to me. How about you? You married or dating anyone lately?” As she said that, it dawned on Claire that she had been dying to ask this question, that the answer to it seemed more important to her that she could account for, but also that “anyone” could include Regina, as had passed through her mind earlier. Once again, she found the idea somewhat intriguing, perhaps even more so than she had earlier, for some reason, but she quickly tried to dismiss the notion from her head, and she hoped Traci had not somehow seen into her mind and been offended by perceiving a lesbian suggestion in Claire’s inquiry.

“No, sadly. I divorced my husband about a month ago.”

“Oh, Traci, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

The sympathy in Claire’s initial reaction was mixed with a certain measure of secret relief, if not gladness. The fact that Traci had been married to a man probably meant that Traci was straight, and that info would help her quell those pesky speculations within herself about Traci and Regina being lesbians dating each other, she reasoned. Further, it struck Claire that, in a way, she and Traci were like each other in that they were both coming off a breakup with a guy and were now unattached. That gave them something in common. They were in similar situations relative to men, and that realization made Claire feel closer to Traci because of it.

But the news that Traci was unattached right now—that she therefore was free to form a new relationship, and could well be open to it—that gave Claire a little thrill, although the feeling was both subtle and inexplicable to her.

“Thank you, Claire. Unfortunately, my breakup wasn’t as tidy as yours. My dear husband was cheating on me and he thought he could keep the affair a secret. When I found out, I tried to do what I could to salvage our marriage, but in the end it became clear that I had to cut the strings before it got worse. I have a daughter, and I’m thankful that she took the divorce pretty well.”

Traci’s revelation of her divorce had caught Claire off guard, and now the sordid details surrounding that breakup were making her somewhat uncomfortable. Claire had been raised to see marriage as a holy sacrament, a divinely sanctioned, inseparable union of a man and woman in love with each other. Her parents, mostly her mother, had taught her about the virtues of marriage, the ugliness of infidelity, and the tragedy of divorce.

But they had also educated her that, as she lived in an age of shifting traditions and values, many marriages would not work out and that divorces would happen. Her mother had told Claire that she should try to help those going through a divorce, by offering her support as a servant of God, rather than to cast cold judgment and shun the divorced person. Still, Claire was inexperienced in personally dealing with such matters and didn’t know quite what to say further to Traci about it.

“Look, Traci, if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Claire, no harm done. I’ve gotten over it. Regina, bless her soul, offered me some great assistance and helped me get on with my life.”

“Wow, it’s just amazing to hear about the nice things that Regina does for people.”

“She’s a very special woman. Trust me, you won’t find another person like her anywhere else.”

Claire wanted to pay Regina back in some way for her help and she recognized this discussion as her opportunity to obtain more information about the woman to facilitate that payback. But in addition to that, their discussion about Regina and the sound of adoration in Traci’s voice were sparking within Claire a distinctively personal curiosity about the Director. She identified it as a new type and level of interest which seemed to have been growing in the back of her mind over the course of the morning. She realized that she was starting to feel the same way about Regina as Traci apparently did, that her regard for her benefactress was becoming more ardent and devoted, for some reason. Claire didn’t understand that feeling, other than believing it to probably be a natural outgrowth of her gratitude, but now that Traci, who obviously knew and liked Regina well, had opened a discussion about her, Claire saw that this would be a good time to ask a question or two. Claire was also happy to shift the topic away from Traci’s divorce.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, Traci, what can you tell me about Regina?”

“Well, as a boss she’s demanding, wants nothing but your best, and won’t settle for anything less. That’s to be expected when your responsibility is getting the best possible financial help for those attending Preston University. Regina also plays a role in admissions, as well as in the hiring of some of the faculty and staff. In all of her capacities she has proven to have a very keen eye for talent, and has a knack for finding those that do Preston proud, although right now it may not look like it to you, quite.

“Outside of the job she can be pretty laid back. She’s quite fun to be with when you get to know her.” A wistful look passed across Traci’s face for a few seconds. “Yeah... She definitely knows how to have a good time...”

The rumor which Monica had shared with her started to slowly creep back into Claire’s mind. What kind of “fun” is Traci talking about?... lesbian fun?...

Claire’s upbringing made her see homosexuality as unnatural and deviant, a sin and a perversion which she, personally, would absolutely avoid. However, she was more liberal when it came to other people. Her parents had taught her that it wasn’t her place to judge others. That was up to God. In the end, he would judge people according to the conduct of their lives, and good Christians should pray for mercy for the misguided—and that included gays—instead of condemning them.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be curious, and she was feeling so now. For some reason, the issues introduced by Monica earlier in the day and which her mind had been plying over the morning would not leave her. Was Regina a lesbian? And if she were, was Traci one as well? Were Traci and Regina dating?

As she and Traci talked, these questions returned with heightened fascination to Claire. She tried to suppress them but seemed unable to do so. While Claire had never felt attracted to girls or women, and was quite confident in her heterosexuality, she nevertheless couldn’t rid herself of curiosity in these two women. She thought it was perhaps so because she had never known any lesbians, at least that she knew of, so lesbians and lesbianism were mysteries to her. Whatever the cause, she perceived that the phenomenon of female-to-female attraction was starting to emerge as a topic of interest to her.

This led to another question, one pertaining to herself: If Regina were a lesbian…then what would she, Claire, have done if…if Regina had come on to her? Or what would she do if Regina did that in the future? Or Traci? Would she freak out? Would she like it? How would she react?

Claire could not contain her mounting curiosity, and it bubbled out as a rash, prying question.

“So… It sounds like you two are pretty close. I take it you and Regina have gone out together a couple of times?”

The moment she asked the question, she knew that she had gone too far, that she had implied something for which she had no evidence whatever, and about a private matter which was in no way her business. Traci could very likely be offended by the question. But it was too late. The issue was now floating in the air between them.

Traci, of course was not offended. She was now a dyed-in-the-wool lesbian and did in fact have a very intimate lesbian relationship with her boss. And she understood exactly what was going on in Claire’s head. But she decided to have some fun with the situation and make Claire squirm a little. So she turned to face Claire, as they were waiting at a stop light at the moment, and stared at her with an impassive expression which Claire could not read.

Finally she spoke. “Why? Are you jealous, Claire? Planning to ask Regina out?”

“Me?! No! Not me!” Wishing she could take back the question and its accompanying insinuation, and seeking to explain her words away as something other than what they had been, Claire added in a flustered tone, “Uh…I…I just meant that…that I want to know more about Regina.”

After a few seconds, Traci broke into a smile, let out a breezy little chuckle, and spoke in a light-hearted, teasing tone. “Come on, Claire. I’m just messing with you. Look, like I said, I was going through a very rough time with my divorce and Regina sensed that. She put me in contact with some people that helped me get through it. And she knew that I needed a distraction, so, yes, we went to a few fancy restaurants, some theater performances, and a couple of clubs. Regina was even kind enough to let my daughter tag along on some of those outings. Of course, during the whole process I got to see a side of my boss that she rarely lets anyone see.”

“Oh… Traci, I’m sorry if I sounded too nosy.”

“No problem, Claire. I understand that you want to repay Regina for doing this for you, but this is just her thing. If anything, you can say that it’s the chink in her armor. If she sees anyone in need, she’ll do whatever she can and then some to help them out. If you really want to repay her, do your best and live up to the expectations she has set up for you.”

They drove in silence for a minute. As they did, Claire’s mind returned to Traci’s questions: “Are you jealous, Claire? Planning to ask Regina out?” Going out with Regina or any other woman had never come close to crossing Claire’s mind even as a remote possibility for herself before Traci had said it right then, or before Traci had asked Claire whether she had a girlfriend a few minutes before. But it had been said and had touched a nerve Claire hadn’t known was there within her before. Earlier, she had recognized a persistent curious interest inside herself about Regina and Traci possibly dating, but this one involving herself, while highly improbable and perverse, she knew, was somehow even more intriguing.

Of course, I would never think of doing that. Regina and me... No... Never ever... It’s ludicrous... She’s got to be ten, fifteen years older than me... And she’s a woman!...

Yes, she’s very beautiful... And if I were gay, I might go for her... It would be interesting... Yes... I’d probably like that...

I know Traci was just kidding... But... what would it be like?... going out with someone like Regina... someone beautiful... and sexy... going out with a beautiful woman... as her date?...

The black-haired student closed her eyes for a moment as she pictured herself getting ready...wanting to look nice...the doorbell ringing...opening the front door to see Regina...in a sexy dress...looking hot...

Claire snapped her eyes open. Wha...? Wait... No, Claire! Stop! This is crazy!.... That could never be!... It wouldn’t be right!.... Traci was just kidding! It could never happen. I don’t date women! I’m straight!

With that, Claire ejected the idea from her conscious mind, although it actually only retreated into hidden mental recesses, there to float around pending its potential resurrection at some time in the future.

“I got another energy drink bottle in my purse. Mind taking it out?

Claire reached back and pulled Traci’s purse up to her lap. Pulling another small bottle out, Claire unfastened the bottle cap and handed it off to Traci.

“Here, how about this: I propose a toast to Regina Burke. May she be rewarded for all the good she has done for our lives and the lives that she will touch.”

Taking a bottle for herself, Claire removed the top and joined Traci in her toast to Regina, tapping her bottle against Traci’s.

“May God grace her with good fortune and a place in his benevolent kingdom,” added Claire.

They tapped their two small bottles together again and both took a drink.

That’s right, babe. Drink up,... Now for the next step of Regina’s plan...

“Hey, if you don’t mind, is it okay if I play some music for the remainder of the drive?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Do you have a preference in music? I can set it to any station that you want.”

“If you don’t mind I happen to enjoy jazz.”

“Then jazz it is.”

Flipping a switch and turning a dial, Traci found a jazz station and let its soft tones play through the car. Simultaneously, she started a set of subliminal messages for Claire which were embedded in the stereo system of the car, were played through hidden speakers, and were masked by the radio program.

“Remember that you will always trust Traci and Regina... You love them and want to please them... You love being with them and looking at them...

“You want to be beautiful and sexy and attract Traci and Regina and other pretty women and girls... Lesbians are beautiful and sexy women... You desire to become a lesbian... Regina and Traci will show you the way...

“Men have no meaning for you... You can be happy only with women in your arms and as your partners in love and sex... Men cannot make you happy, only women can... You do not want a boyfriend or a husband, ever... You have no desire for any kind of relationship with men...

“You love pretty women and girls... You are happy with them... They make you feel sexy and pretty... They turn you on... Women make your pussy wet... You want to be touched by them, intimately touched, and to touch and kiss them... You crave sexual interactions of all kinds with beautiful women and sexy girls...

To ensure that the subliminal messages and the drugs in the energy drink would have time to affect Claire thoroughly, Traci purposely took the longest route possible to the Artemis Center and, when she got close, she drove around it a few times. All the while, Claire was unaware of what was being done to her and entered a deep, sleep-like trance while absorbing the subliminal messages being directed at her.

“Claire likes girls and women... Claire loves pretty girls and women... Claire is a lesbian...is becoming more a lesbian with every pretty girl and woman she sees... Claire wants to be a lesbian...and to love beautiful, sexy girls and women...women like Regina Burke...

“You can’t wait to see Regina Burke again... You are so very attracted to her... You want to know her better...to see her more...to spend time with her...to date her...to be her girlfriend...to fall in love with her...

“You want to attract Regina and Traci... You want them to desire you...to want you as a sexual partner... You want your roommates to desire you... You desperately want all pretty girls and women to be attracted to you and to want to kiss you and to have sex with you...including your sister and your mother...

“You need to look sexier... Pretty girls and women will like you more if you are sexier... They will love you if you are slutty...You need to wear makeup...bold, heavy, sexy makeup... You should wear fingernail polish, all the time, and have beautiful, long, sexy nails... You want to have beautiful, sexy hair... You would look beautiful as a blonde, and so very sexy... You want to be a blonde...blonde like your sexy mother and your pretty sister...blonde like pretty, sexy Traci... You must dye your hair blonde...

“You want to show off your legs, all the time... Wear nylons and high heels... You would be sexier in short skirts and dresses, shorter than you have ever worn before, and tight hot pants, which show off your cute, sexy ass... You want other girls to notice your breasts... You want women to look at them, to feel them, and kiss them... Show them off to other girls and women... That would be so very sexy...just like you want to be... Wear thin, tight blouses and tops and dresses... Always show a lot of skin...a lot of leg, a lot of tummy, a lot of back, and a lot of cleavage... Do your hair and your makeup and dress to make girls look at you and want you... Be sexy and slutty... Be a sexy lesbian...”

Traci looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was 1:03pm. Traci figured that Claire had by now been exposed to the mind-altering influences she had let loose on the unsuspecting co-ed for a sufficient time to have thoroughly weakened Claire’s mental defenses.

“Claire. Claire, dear, wake up. Claire, can you hear me?”

“Huh?” Claire slowly came out of her trance and noticed that the car had stopped. “We finally got here.”

“Sorry, Claire, unfortunately there was some construction, so I had to take a detour. Looks like you dozed off a little.”

“Well, at least we got here. I really appreciate this.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Getting out of the car, Claire stretched a bit, gently working the stiffness out of her body, then followed Traci towards the Artemis Center, which she regarded as a place where her hopes and dreams might be reclaimed. Once again, her eyes strayed to the moving curves of Traci’s backside. Entering the building, Traci and Claire were greeted by Regina.

Claire was awestruck by Regina’s beauty. The brunette had her hair pulled back today in a ponytail held together by an intricate braid, her full bangs parted slightly in the middle. Her face was covered with an exotic layer of make-up, mascara and eye shadow enhancing the vibrant appearance of Regina’s grey eyes and blush underlining the youthfulness of her features. Crimson lipstick made her lips alive and desirable.

Regina was wearing a dressy maroon silk blouse under an unbuttoned dark grey business jacket, with a matching miniskirt hugging her hips. Regina’s legs were wrapped in black silk stockings and her feet in glossy black leather high heels.

Claire found herself marveling at Regina’s appearance. She looked so lovely, young, and...well...sexy. Yes, that was the perfect word for her, it struck Claire. Then the unexpected thought crossed Claire’s mind that if Regina turned around, the tight skirt would showcase her marvelous ass.

“I see you two made it and with time to spare.”

“We ran into some traffic but nothing major,” responded Traci.

“That’s good to hear and, Claire, you look amazing. That suit is exquisite. Are you sure you need to be here?” Regina said in a joking tone.

“It belongs to one of my roommates and she let me borrow it. I wanted to make a good impression.”

As she answered, Claire was surprised to find herself a bit breathless, and dazzled by her new ally. Though finding her response unusual, she attributed it to a deserved esteem for the woman, as well to as to a certain nervousness inherent in the situation. Perhaps, she thought, she was also still affected by her previous speculation about whether Regina might be a lesbian, and by Traci’s teasing insinuation about dating Regina, and by her earlier idle imaginings about it.

“Claire, don’t worry. The people that I’ve gathered aren’t here to judge on looks but on potential. And, trust me when I say this, there’s potential in you that will take you very far.”

“Thanks, Regina. I mean it. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” Regina gave Claire a radiant smile, and Claire felt herself melt a little bit because of it, in some hard-to-define but nevertheless stirring way. “Well, if we’re all set, just follow me and we can get things started.”

Regina and Traci took the lead as Claire followed. Unknown to Claire, they did this intentionally, so that Claire would watch their sexy asses swaying as they walked. Every time she caught herself staring, she would dismiss it as something she was doing only because she had been on an exhausting emotional rollercoaster and currently had a case of the jitters, both of which factors, she justified, had made her not quite her normal self.

And, yes, she had been right. Regina’s rear was set off spectacularly in that short, tight skirt. The shifting globes transfixed Claire as they walked, as did the foxy brunette’s shapely, slim legs, the student’s attention on them broken only to occasionally peer at Traci’s assets as well.

“Well we’re here.”

Regina had led them to a double doorway.

“Claire, our meeting is in here. If you don’t mind, Traci and I have to finish up with the final preparations, so you’ll have to excuse us. You’re the first one here, so unfortunately you’ll be alone for a little bit. The rest of your fellow students should show up soon. If you want something to eat or drink, I’ve set up a nice refreshment table inside that has a variety of juices, a large fruit plate, a variety of sandwiches, and a couple of cookie plates, so feel free to grab anything you want.”

“Thanks Regina.”

As Regina and Traci walked away down the hallway, Claire opened one of the doors and entered the back of a large room. There was a podium at the front and, in front of it, two long rectangular tables end-to-end, each lined with chairs facing the podium. She counted nine chairs and deduced there were that many total students affected by the scholarship scandal. Claire decided to forgo the food on the table to the right and sat down to wait for her fellow students to show up.

Roughly thirty minutes passed before anyone else appeared. However, within a minute of Claire sitting down, gentle classical music started to play from ceiling speakers. She was pleased, assuming that Regina had thoughtfully provided this touch to make her wait more pleasant and relaxing. She closed her eyes and meditated to the first piece, a Mozart piano concerto, which occupied most of the wait.

“Claire...you like girls...pretty girls...and sexy women...only them... You love looking at them...It makes you happy... It feels so right... You’d love to touch their skin...their hair...their curvy bodies...kiss their lips...make love to them... You want to be a lesbian...a loose lesbian...free and loose...freed from your old values...free to love girls...

“Boys don’t interest you... You don’t like men... You are homosexual... You only like girls and women...

“You don’t want to be a prude any more...or a religious girl... Prudish girls are unhappy... Religious girls are unhappy... Your religion is untrue... You don’t believe it any more... Give it up... You have outgrown it... The God you have believed in is not real... God is really a Goddess... a woman... She is your new god... The one to worship... to obey...to love... You have a new religion... a new belief…in the Goddess... and lesbian love…and lesbian sex... This is your new belief... your new devotion...

“Let go of the uptight rules you have received from your parents and your old, false god... Your parents’ beliefs of modesty and sexual denial are wrong... old-fashioned ideas... fairy tales for a little girl... not for a sexy young lesbian woman... like you... Cast them away... You don’t need to be modest, chaste, and heterosexual... Goddess does not expect that... You are free...

“Loosen up... Be free... Be sexy... Goddess wants you be to free…and sexy... and a lesbian... You want to be free... and sexy...and a lesbian... and beautiful...more beautiful...and slutty... You want other girls and women to notice you... and to desire you... You want to attract them and make them hot for you... Being pretty and sexy and having sex with girls is what’s important now... You love and desire their pussies... Pussy is all that matters to you...

“Love other girls... Be a homosexual girl... Be sexually loose... Be slutty... Goddess will not condemn you... She will love you more... Goddess loves slutty lesbian girls...

“No more modesty... No more chastity... No more self-denial... No more boys or men... Just girls...and pussy...lots of beautiful, wet, womanly pussy... That is what you believe in…what you love...and all you want… Claire loves pussy... Regina’s pussy…all pussy...

“Your old, up-tight, prudish standards and rules are slipping away... It feels good to let them go... Now you are a liberated lesbian girl...a loose girl...a sexy, slutty girl...free to love any girl or woman you want...free to look...free to touch...free to kiss...free to make love...with any pretty girl...or sexy woman…with Regina... with any female who attracts you...

“You want to be a slut... Being slutty makes you happy…it is wonderful... Being a lesbian makes you happy... Being with pretty and sexy girls and women makes you happy...

“A real lesbian expresses herself with vulgar words... A proper lesbian likes to use the words ‘fuck’, ‘pussy’, ‘cunt’, ‘ass’, ‘asshole’, ‘tits’... You love crude, vulgar words... to describe yourself and other women... Your ‘breasts’ are your ‘tits’... Your rear is your ‘ass’... Your vagina is your ‘pussy’... and your ‘cunt’... All women have a ‘cunt’... All women desire ‘cunt’... This is a fact you know is true... this applies to all women... including yourself...

“You are proud of your tits, and your pussy, and your ass… Show them off... They are playthings for other sexy women... They also have ‘tits’, and ‘asses’ and ‘pussies’ and ‘cunts’... They are playthings for you... for you to use and enjoy... They are for a slutty, loose lesbian girl like you...

“You love the word ‘fuck’... It turns you on... Women should be fucked by other women... in their mouths... in their cunts... in their assholes... ‘Fuck’ is a wonderful and delightful word... one of your favorite words...

“You love all these words, and every word like them... ’fuck’... ’pussy’... ’cunt’...’ass’... ’asshole’... ’screw’... ’sex’... ’sexy’... ’whore’... ’slut’... ’slutty’... ’queer’... ’lesbian’... ’fuck’.......all beautiful words... words that will float through your head... a lot... and come out of your mouth... Thinking and saying them makes you feel happy... and sexy... and slutty... and like a lesbian... like the lesbian you are and want to be... They make you feel wonderfully slutty and sexy and beautiful... to hear them and think them and say them... They are good words... perfect words... sexy words... naughty words... wonderfully wicked words... marvelous words... magical words... right words... words you love to think and to say...

“Seeing Regina makes you happy... Thinking of Regina makes you excited... Being with Regina makes you aroused... You’d love to date her... You must have sex with her…lesbian sex... You love Regina...

“You love being a lesbian girl... You should date pretty girls and women... You want sexy lesbian girlfriends... Claire is a promiscuous lesbian slut...”

When the sound of the double doors opening assaulted her and female voices quickly followed, heralding the arrival of the rest of the students, Claire opened her eyes, realizing she must have dozed off, noticed the music had stopped, and, not seeing Traci or Regina around, arose and acted as an impromptu hostess, making brief introductions as the students came in and pointing them towards the refreshment table.

Soon the room was alive with chatter as they discussed with each other the circumstances which had brought them all here and how they were fortunate to have the upcoming event happen. As they talked, Claire scanned the students and noticed both that they all were female and that every one was quite attractive, which facts seemed to make Claire feel relieved—it felt better with no boys there, somehow—and happy, happy to be surrounded by pretty young woman like these. She didn’t understand the impression, but she was aware of it and didn’t mind it at all.

She saw a petite Japanese girl with parts of her black hair dyed crimson red sitting at the far end of the table by herself. In a corner of the room was a small group composed of a brunette beauty and two gorgeous blondes who looked like they knew each other. Standing near the table, a twosome composed of a sexually appealing African-American girl and another alluring blonde talked with each other. Finally, she saw a cute red-headed girl and another beautiful brunette going over the selections at the refreshment table.

Claire didn’t consciously realize it, but her eyes were moving from one girl to the other, focusing on a beautiful face here or lingering on a sensual curve there, appreciating one girl’s lipstick or another’s pretty hair or another’s long, colored fingernails or another’s short skirt and legs. She was in a room full of beautiful young women and, for some reason, it was a rather exhilarating sensation.

At length the sound of a woman’s voice brought everyone’s attention to the podium. At the time, Claire was unwittingly checking out the cute Japanese girl sitting by herself, and had to tear her eyes away.

It was Regina.

“I appreciate everyone being patient and I apologize for the wait. So, if everyone could please take a seat, we can proceed with this meeting.”

Claire felt an urge to take the seat next to the Japanese girl she had been eyeing. Without quite realizing what she was doing, she made her way there and sat down, glad no one else had beat her to the spot. She turned to the girl a moment and smiled. The Asian girl, who was even prettier this close, returned the smile, sending a little thrill into Claire, for which she could account only by telling herself that she had perhaps found a new friend in an otherwise suspenseful situation. Turning to her other side, she saw that her neighbor there was one of the blondes, another girl she had particularly noticed over the preceding wait. There was a novel and distinct pleasure in sitting next to each of these pretty girls.

“Thank you very much. As you all know, you are here due to a set of very unfortunate events, events created by callous greed that, in the end, essentially robbed you of your futures.”

Claire could hear some agreeing whispers in the room.

“As you all are aware, the Whittham Scholarship and Charity Foundation has filed for bankruptcy and, in doing so, no longer has the funds to cover a majority of the scholarships awarded.”

The whispers turned angry. The comments Claire heard varied, but a common theme was wishing for the death of or at least unending pain for the soulless monsters that did this to them.

“Some of those scholarships were awarded to students attending Preston University, of course. The moment I heard about the problem, I started looking for alternate sources of funding for our students who had Whittham scholarships, in the attempt to save them from having their futures ruined. First, I investigated conventional sources but, unfortunately, I did not come up with help for enough of you. Then I looked into less-conventional alternatives, again without success.

“Finally it occurred to me that maybe some people who had generously donated to Preston University in the past might be willing to help out. I ran it by the president of the University, he gave me his blessing, and I contacted various past donors. I established a program in which each donor would agree to pay one specific student’s tuition until that student graduates.

“The only negative is that I couldn’t get enough sponsors for all the students affected by this, meaning some would lose out, which to me is tragic. In essence, I had the horrible task of deciding who would stay and who had to go. Those of you here are the ones who made the cut.” Regina conveniently left out the fact that the only two criteria used in the selection process were whether the student was female and how attractive she was.

Regina pulled a handkerchief out of the jacket pocket and wiped away the tears in her eyes. “It was like asking a parent to pick which one of their children got to live and which had to die.”

Claire and everyone else were stunned when they realized how close they had come to losing it all and how fortunate they truly were in being at this meeting.

“So, if you’re asking why you are here, it is because I believe in you, in each of you. Every one of you was chosen because you have amazing potential and the ability to achieve it. Everyone in this room embodies the spirit and principles which Preston University expects of its students, staff, and community. So, don’t say that it was something divine or some stroke of luck that got you here, because it wasn’t. It was you that got yourself here, and it will be you that will take yourself to your next step.”

The girls all broke out in a round of applause and, after one girl stood up while clapping to show her appreciation, all of them followed suite. For good measure, several of them added some whoops and cheers.

Basking in the adulation, Regina let it go on for several seconds before gesturing for calm and quiet in the room, and motioning for the girls to take their seats again.

“I’m sure all of you want exact details as to how this will proceed. So, here’s how it will play out. Essentially, right now, you are all in a candidate phase of the sponsorship program. What this means is that you don’t have a sponsor assigned to you yet. First, you will provide some information on an application. Then the sponsors, who are currently sequestered in another area of this building, will go through the applications and each of them will select one of you to sponsor. Does anybody have a question about this process?”

The African-American girl raised her hand and asked, “Does this mean that some of us could be left without a sponsor by the end of today?”

“Good question, Judy, and the answer is no. The sponsors have agreed to pay the tuition for everyone present here, so none of you will be without a sponsor, but each of them wants to sponsor someone with and about whom he or she feels comfortable, who is a person for whom the arrangement is likely to be mutually beneficial.

“And that brings me to the terms and conditions of this sponsorship. First, everyone here must maintain a grade point average of 3.7 or above in order to keep their sponsorship. Failure to do so will result in the loss of their sponsorship. I’ve reviewed most of your records and spoken to most of your professors. Everyone here already meets this requirement. Also, there will be periodic meetings with me or a sponsor representative so we can ensure that all parties are on the right track. Finally, since the sponsors have agreed to pay for your tuition until you graduate, they have requested that, upon your graduation, you will be employed by the sponsor for a minimum term of two years.”

Claire heard some murmurs at the mention of the final condition. She realized that some of the girls there already probably had their own plans for what they were going to do after graduation, and that even those who did not might view it as restrictive and controlling to have it already decided for them by someone else. Claire’s first reaction differed, however. She trusted Regina and felt that this was not terribly unreasonable, considering the benefit being offered. Also, having a job already lined up would have the advantage of sparing her the trouble and anxiety of trying to find one on her own at the due time. One would only have to hope that it would be a good job.

One of the co-eds raised her hand. “Well, what if we agree and then change our minds? Like, let’s say one of us finds a good job somewhere else that she’d rather take, or decides she wants to get married and raise a family instead of working?”

“Excellent question. To get this offer, each of you will have to sign a contract. If you should fail to fulfill your obligation—such as if you should drop out of school, fail to progress toward your degree adequately, accept another job after graduation, fail to stay in your sponsor’s employment for the full term, or voluntarily remove yourself from the workforce—then you will be liable to repay your sponsor the full amount funded, plus a 35% penalty, all due the month after the default. Whatever reason you might have to want to change your course later, we’re sorry, but there have to be rules to protect the sponsors, as well as to help you stick with the plan for your own benefit. Did that answer the question?”

The student mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”

Right then, the classical music Claire had heard before started again. It was faint, and none of the girls, who were concentrating on Regina’s words rather than on background noises, seemed to notice.

“I know you all probably had your own ideas of what you wanted to do after graduating, but please understand that these people will have invested a good deal of money into your future and will desire to see that it isn’t wasted. And think of the advantage for you. You’ll all be in a position that other students at Preston would kill for. You’ll have a job guaranteed after graduation, and won’t have to worry about the turmoil of applying, interviews, getting rejected, and that whole scene. You’ll have it made!” Claire was gratified that she had already recognized that advantage. “Also, remember that it’s not permanent. You can leave and follow your own path after fulfilling the two-year term, plus you will have valuable experience already under your belt.”

Regina’s logic was persuasive, as were the subliminals floating through the air urging the girls to believe, trust, and love Regina, to be sexually attracted to her and to other females, and to embrace the proposed program and all of its details. In addition to a subtle but mounting desire to win the favor of the Director and get closer to her, each of the girls started to also feel not only comfortable with the terms of the program, but also rather eager to get started.

“So, when do we find out which sponsor we get?” asked one of the brunettes in the group.

“It will be today, and it won’t be long. But there is one important step you all need to take first. In the next room is a group of computer stations set up for you. Each of you is to go to your assigned station. Your name will be on it. There, you will fill in the necessary information for your sponsorship application.

“The application is broken into two parts: The first one is a general information form that will just ask for some information about you. The second is knowledge-based. When you arrive at this second half of the application you will click on your respective major and take a short test of your knowledge on your major’s subject matter. For this part, if you are not sure or don’t know the answer, please leave it blank. Putting in the wrong answer will do more harm than good. But on both parts, it is very important to follow the instructions and to respond as accurately and thoughtfully as possible to as many questions as you can.

“When you are finished with the application, just wait in the room. The sponsors will be reviewing your applications. After we get a response from them, we will let you know who will be sponsoring you. It’s that simple.

“Alright then, if you’re all ready, let us head over to the computer room.”

Regina led the girls to the next room and made sure that each girl was at a functioning computer station. After insuring that everything was all set, she wished everyone good luck, excused herself, and left the room.

Walking to the end of the hallway, Regina faced a door with a palm scanner, placed her palm on it, changing the red light on the scanner to green, and entered a command center. Various workers were stationed at terminals, entering data, reading reports, and monitoring the room in which Claire and the other girls were getting started on their “applications”.

“And the award for best actress goes to…” said a brown-eyed woman in military fatigues as Regina walked in. The pretty woman, whose black hair was styled in a cute raven-wing bob cut with her wavy bangs swept to the left, was sitting at a computer station apart from the others.

“Ha, ha, Sandra,” Regina replied sarcastically. “I swear, you should have broken into comedy instead of working here.”

Sandra Kelly’s official position was “private security consultant”, currently assigned to a shell company owned by Hecate Pharmaceutical, based at the Artemis Center. While some of her assignments did indeed involve providing security for corporate personnel and facilities, much of her work for the company was of a covert, black-ops nature. Her duties could include espionage, sabotage, burglary, kidnapping, interrogation, indoctrination, brainwashing, recruitment, bribery, blackmail, extortion, or any other “off-the-books” activity needed at the moment by the corporation or the Goddess, including intimidation or even liquidation of those deemed sufficient threats to the goals of the Goddess. Within the lithe, athletic, sexy 5′4″ body with perky B-cup breasts and the cute ass of the gymnast she had been in high school, and behind her tanned, evenly-featured, pretty face and her cute, playful personality, was a ruthless enforcer who could hurt or kill as easily as drawing breath and treat it as just another day at the office.

Sandra’s background made her a particularly valuable employee in the Hecate system. Her father had served through most of her youth in the Army, and from her childhood she had been interested in all things military. She had enlisted in the Army the moment she graduated from high school under a program that promised her advanced training and a fast track to eventually becoming an officer. Her hope was to make the Army a long-term career.

True to part of its promise, after her basic training the Army had indeed given her specialized training in all fields she requested, through which she had acquired advanced expertise in weapons, hand-to-hand combat, electronics, communications, and intelligence, including espionage, interrogation, and indoctrination techniques, and she had been given the opportunity to gain experience in all those and other fields. After her first three-year enlistment, she had been accepted into the Rangers, the elite corps of the Army, and honed into a soldier adept at all phases of special ops.

By the end of her second three-year enlistment, though she was a Ranger, had risen to the rank of master sergeant, and had earned a bachelors degree “on the side”, and despite her extensive training and abilities and the promises made to her when she had first enlisted, her repeated applications for Officer Candidate School (OCS)—the step necessary for an enlisted soldier to become an officer—had been consistently declined. She attributed the rejections to what she perceived as the chauvinistic attitudes pervasive among the male officers over her, and, because of that, her rise into the Army’s higher ranks had started to appear to be a most difficult climb and an unlikely prospect. The actual reason for her superiors declining to recommend her, however, was that they saw in her too much of an independent personality and attitude, which all too often seemed casual, flippant, and even insubordinate, and therefore they judged her not to be officer material.

During a tour in the Middle East a few months before her second three-year enlistment would be completed, a disillusioned Sandra had been approached by representatives of Hecate Corp., which had some interests in the region. Over the course of several meetings with Sandra, the representatives informed her that they were interested in hiring her away from the Army for their paramilitary security division, that they valued her skill set and they recognized potential in her that they would like to cultivate, and that they could add to her training and give her more challenging experiences, personal growth, and better pay and perks than she could ever get in the Army. They made her a lucrative offer to join them.

At first she declined, being put off by the clandestine aura seeming to surround the secretive security organization and because she still felt some loyalty to the Army and to her country and, despite her disappointments, wanted to give the Army one more chance by re-enlisting. But the money being offered and the eventual recognition that she might indeed be able to find greater fulfillment with Hecate than in the Army finally caused Sandra to consider their proposal more favorably. When it at last came time to re-enlist, Sandra opted to leave the Army and went to work for this underground branch of Hecate. That had been almost five years ago.

Her new employer, true to it’s promise, added to Sandra’s skills—though bending them toward increasingly sinister usages—paid her well, promoted her fairly, and made her feel like she had at last found a proper home for her talents, albeit a home with a dark side, a dark side which, in time, became a fundamental component of Sandra’s nature. Sandra was also introduced to and adopted various philosophies and attitudes common to many Hecate employees, which included a belief in the supremacy of women and their right to lead in the world, a pronounced openness to female homosexuality, and allegiance to a woman known as the Goddess.

Sandra had first met the Goddess within the first year of her employment in Hecate’s paramilitary group. Sandra had been assigned as part of a security detail to protect the divine beauty and she had even been told that Goddess had personally and specifically requested her. Feeling flattered by the honor and becoming, as she served the Goddess on a close and daily basis, totally smitten with her, it was not long before she opened herself to deeper indoctrination in Goddess’s beliefs and ideals, committed herself more completely to her new queen, and became one of her most ardent and loyal followers.

Prior to joining Hecate, Sandra had always thought of herself as heterosexual. She had dated a bit in high school, and, though she had never had a steady boyfriend or been very sexually active, she had imagined that sometime during her Army career or afterwards she would meet a man she could love, get married, have children, and all the rest. But that hadn’t happened in the Army and once she joined Hecate, her perspective had started to gradually change. At the time, she didn’t know why—she would become completely familiar with Hecate’s extensive employment of mind control techniques soon enough, and would realize they must have been directed at her at the time, though by the time she had it figured out, rather than being angry about it, she was most grateful for the changes they had caused in her—but she started to feel attraction to some of her female co-workers, most of whom were openly gay. The attraction was reciprocated and some of them started asking her out.

After resisting the invitations for a time, she eventually relented. She started dating women on a limited basis, and that had led to some experiences in lesbian sex. Though she thought of herself as simply experimenting and still basically straight, or possibly bisexual, by the time she had met the Goddess she was confused about her sexuality. She had enjoyed the romantic and physical aspects of her lesbian dating immensely, but she was reluctant to let go of her dreams of eventually finding a man and living a “normal” life.

That all changed dramatically once she spent time with the Goddess. Almost immediately, Sandra developed a raging infatuation for the wondrous beauty. The queen easily seduced her and pulled her into a variety of deep lesbian sex acts, with herself and with other women. Sandra was conclusively converted, and she had been a devoted and avid lesbian ever since.

Sandra, now age 29, had since proven worthy of the confidence of the queen over numerous assignments, and she had been put in increasingly responsible positions. That had eventually brought Sandra to her current location, where she had been partnered as second in command to Regina Burke, an acolyte who had quickly risen up the ranks of Goddess’s organization. Here they were to carry out the Goddess’s bidding and convert any female who could further Goddess’s goals.

They generally worked well enough together, despite differences in their management styles and in their personalities, which clashed occasionally, Sandra’s sassiness being a recurring irritant to Regina. Regina favored a disciplined approach and preferred running a tight ship, following the rules and going by the book in her endeavors, whereas Sandra was, despite her military background, more free-spirited, relaxed, and given to fun and humor, even on the job, though she would quickly sharpen her focus and turn sober when the situation called for it.

“Oh, come on, Regina, lighten up and have some fun. After all, all work and no play makes Regina a very dull girl. Besides, you should have seen the looks on those girls, hanging on to each word coming out your mouth. But I’m sure your mouth isn’t the only thing that you wanted the girls to focus on.”

“Can we just get back on task here?”

“Alright, fine, have it your way. So, right now we have a bidding war between our clients in Germany and France for the cute Asian chick. Our client in Japan met the reserve set on the red head with the nice rack. Our friend in Russia is calling dibs on the black chick with the oh-so-beautiful legs. We got someone in New York interested in the blonde with the killer ass. Another client on the West Coast is offering a good amount for brunette with the large tits. The others are gaining traction on bids, and we might see some profit from them before we end it. Per your instructions, Ms. Claire Amanda Love-Livingston was tagged with a “sold” label upon entering the auction. So, would you like a drink and a side of fries with all of that?”

Shaking her head, Regina knew better than to escalate the sarcasm in her conversation with Sandra further. She let the last part slide in order to focus on the information provided.

“Okay, raise the reserve on Abby—that’s the cute Asian chick—to five million, and whoever hits it first gets her. Contact our agents in Japan and Russia to set up the transactions for their winning bids. Double check with our New York client. She’s been known to flip-flop on deals in the past, and remind our West Coast client that the entire payment is to be up front.”

“Done and done. So, when should we get the party under way?”

“We’ll wait another, oh, thirty five minutes, so they can fill out more of their ‘applications’, till then lets just enjoy the view.” said Regina as she stared at a monitor displaying Claire’s gorgeous body as she typed away on her computer, blissfully ignorant of the sinister plot set in motion for her and the others in the room.

Claire was filling out the first half of the application. At first it was simple, asking for things about her such as birth date, age, gender, address, contact information, references, names, ages, and occupations of family members, and so on. Then it asked her to list any experiences, achievements, and other credentials which might demonstrate her commendability as a candidate for the sponsorship program. It took some time to properly word it, but Claire put down that she was a member of an on-campus Christian charity group that organized and volunteered for efforts such as food and clothing drives and helping at shelters and youth centers. She also mentioned that she volunteered as an individual at least one weekend a month to work as a mentor at one of the youth centers near campus.

Claire then came to a part of the application that seemed inappropriate. The last section of the first half asked for very intimate details of her life, including questions about her sexual history and orientation. At first Claire was taken aback. However, she then reasoned that Regina wouldn’t have included this part without good reason and that she needed to trust Regina, so she dismissed her initial reaction, attributing it to her nervousness and stress. Claire looked around to see whether any of the other girls might have encountered and reacted to this section, but she saw nothing to suggest that.

Neither Claire nor any of the other girls suspected the fact that each monitor was broadcasting hypnotic messages, keeping all the girls calm, compliant, and absorbed, and increasingly making them aroused, so that when they came to the section asking for intimate details, though they might question it momentarily as Claire did, they would then simply accept it as a legitimate aspect of the application process, and would feel comfortable and even excited to recollect and open up about their private sexual feelings and experiences. Further, when the girls arrived at the sexual history part of the application, the bombardment included the monitors flashing subliminal visual messages which altered the memories of each girl as she recalled her sexual past.

Claire mentally chided herself for doubting Regina, even fleetingly, and she resolved to answer the questions as honestly and completely as she could. So she continued filling out the application as if nothing about the questions was unusual.

The first question asked directly about Claire’s sexual orientation, a drop-down box offering the options of “heterosexual”, “bi-sexual”, “homosexual”, and “other”. Claire, of course, entered “heterosexual”—although for a quick moment something told her “homosexual” would be a better choice for a pretty girl such as herself. Then she quickly dismissed the idea. That was a weird thought. I’m straight, all the way.

Next, the application asked if she was sexually active. This one made Claire reflect. She thought back to her time as a freshman in high school when she had started dating Darren. Her parents had sat her down and talked to her about the pitfalls of sex at a young age such as hers, and advised her that she should reserve sexual relations for a marriage blessed by God. She had, accordingly, managed to never have intercourse with her high school sweetheart, but she had sexual urges and there had been times when she had given in to them to some degree, which experiences she now recalled.

From their freshman year and through a good chunk of their senior year, they had behaved themselves well. However, pressure from their peers and influences from media had mounted, seeming to dictate to them that they ought to loosen up. Near the end of their senior year they finally had succumbed to some heavy making out and feeling each other up some, but, desiring not to stray too far from the values they had been taught, they reserved such acts for special intimate moments.

The subliminals colored Claire’s recollection of those events, however, making her recall them as unsatisfying, if not repulsive. Her new memory was that she had discovered that boys are gross, that she was glad she had not gone further with a guy, and that she was highly uncomfortable with the prospect of future sexual intimacy with males.

After her breakup with Darren, Claire had determined she would avoid any committed relationship for the time being and had focused instead on her studies and the achievement of her dream of becoming a lawyer. She had gone out a few times with a few guys, mostly to be sociable and to take a break from the hum-drum of her studies, but she had always made it clear that the dates were neither a prelude to commitment nor were they going to result in any kind of sexual gratification.

So Claire answered “no” to this question.

The next question asked, “Are you a virgin?” Thanks to the influence of the subliminals, Claire was not bothered by the fact that a personal question like this one and the others in this section could have little relevance to her suitability to receive educational financial assistance. None of these were now striking her as unreasonable inquiries, and so she answered this one with virtually no hesitation. “Yes”.

After that was a question asking when she had started to masturbate, followed by another inquiring how often she did it, and then by one asking whether she used any kinds of toys or aids in her masturbation sessions.

Again, the questions sent Claire into a state of reminiscence. She recalled her first discovery of the pleasurable feeling of touching herself during her sophomore year in high school. She had been taking a shower and she had happened to rub herself between her legs. There had been a novel jolt in her crotch. Curious, she had started stroking her hand over her vagina, and found a pleasure unlike any she had known before. The experience had at first felt alien to her, but as she had continued, she had come to enjoy the feelings that commonly arise from the exploration of one’s body. Claire recalled with a smile the quick orgasm that had rushed through her body and her attempts to stifle the cries in the shower. The subliminals highlighted the fact that it was a female hand that had brought such pleasure and twisted her memory to make her believe that at the time she had wondered whether another girl’s fingers would feel as good or possibly even better.

However, her parents’ admonitions about sex had included warnings about the dangers of masturbating too much. Despite the high pleasure one could derive from it, one had to be careful not to over-indulge, as it could become addictive, they had told her. A young woman would do well to develop and derive pleasure more from positive social interactions in her life than from carnal excesses, they had stressed.

Claire viewed herself as a person who did, in fact, keep this aspect of her life under control. Her studies, volunteer work, and hanging out with her friends were her priorities in her life at college. She estimated that she got herself off about once or twice a month, and she answered the question accordingly.

Then the subliminals added to her memory the “recollection” that her mother had told her before she left for college this year that she was withdrawing her recommendation to limit the frequency of masturbation, explaining that once a female hit adulthood, as Claire now had, more or less, the rules no longer applied, that self-pleasure was actually very healthy for an adult woman, and that she should feel free to play with herself nightly if she so chose, or even more frequently. The new memory included Mary having admitted to bringing herself off much more regularly than she had let on previously and Claire having enjoyed finding out something like this about her mother’s sexual life and feeling closer to her mom because of it.

In response to the question which asked if she used any toys or aids in her masturbation, Claire recalled using a hair brush one time just to see what it would feel like to take something larger than a finger into herself. She had used it carefully, avoiding penetration of her hymen in order to leave her virginity intact. As had been her first experience with masturbation and achieving an orgasm, this event had also been an eye-opener, as the sensations received from the way the brush handle touched and filled her vaginal area in ways her fingers couldn’t had carried her to a new, keen level of enjoyment.

Again, the subliminals colored her memory. Now she “remembered” having wondered, while she had stroked herself with the hairbrush, what it would have felt like had the brush handle been replaced with something else. Out of nowhere, she “recalled”, an image had popped into her mind of a wet tongue sliding from a sexy, red lipsticked mouth, and how that thought had really been the element that had pushed her over the edge on that occasion. As before, Claire questioned why she had imagined that, but she quickly accepted it as what had really crossed her mind at the time.

As for sex toys, she did have a dildo, but she had never bothered to even take it out of its box. Claire remembered having received it as a gag gift from her high school friends at her going-away party. It wasn’t fancy, just a simple white vibrator about five inches in length and half an inch in width with a dial switch to turn it off and on. Too embarrassed to leave it behind and having her mother or younger sister stumble upon it by accident, Claire took it with her when she headed to Preston University. It currently resided untouched in the bottom drawer of her dresser, buried under a layer of pants and socks. Since the question asked about usage rather than possession, she answered “no”.

The subliminals continued throughout the room of applicants at computer stations, customized and synchronized for each girl depending on her background, her place in the application at any given time, and the answers she supplied. For Claire, at the moment her mind was hearing:

“You like being touched...pleasured...between your legs... It feels so good... You should do it often...whenever and wherever you want... You mother says so... Think of your mother when you pleasure yourself... Think of how sexy she is...You’d like her to touch you...like that... Pleasuring your pussy reminds you of your mother...of her love...of how sexy and beautiful she is...

“You like your body...a girl’s body...a woman’s body... The female body is so beautiful...and feels so good...especially your pussy... You’re glad you’re a girl... You especially like your pussy... That’s your favorite part... You are glad you are a girl...and have a pussy… You like pussies... You love your pussy... Nothing is more important to you than your pussy... You think about it often...because you love it...and want it to be touched...and pleasured...and kissed...and loved...and it reminds you of your sexy mother...and her pussy...and how much you’d like to see it...and touch it...and kiss it...to show her your love...

“The female body is beautiful... You like sexy female bodies... You like girls... You like women… You like them sexually... You like their breasts... You like their pussies...

“You don’t think of it as a ‘vagina’ any more... That word will be difficult to remember... Beautiful women don’t have vaginas... That’s not the right word... The right word is ‘pussy’...or ‘cunt’... That is a great word, too... That is what you have...That is what all pretty women and girls have...pussies...and cunts... They are beautiful words...right words...good words...lesbian words...dirty words...the best words...the only words... pussy... cunt...

“You like touching yourself... But another woman could pleasure you, too... That would be even better...much better... A lovely woman or girl...touching you... touching your pussy... You’d like to be touched...and pleasured...by another girl...or by a woman... You’d love that... You’re glad you have a pussy...for other girls and women to play with... Your pussy is for beautiful women and girls...for their fingers...and their mouths...to play with...and kiss...and love... The purpose of your pussy is to attract other women...for women to love it...and fuck it...

“You like being touched by women and girls... Being touched by a girl is so nice... You want to be touched and kissed, kissed on the lips by a beautiful woman or girl … The very thought arouses you... It makes yourpussy hot... Sexy women make your pussy wet… You are glad you have a pussy...and that girls and women make you wet...

“Pretty girls should play with the juicy pussies of other pretty girls... It is so right and nice when they do that... Pussy play between girls is natural and sweet and good... Claire loves pussy...girly pussy…womanly pussy... Pussies of beautiful women are so delicious... You love pussy above all things... Claire wants to touch and kiss and lick pretty, sexy, sweet, tender pussies... You like girl pussy...tender and sweet...and woman pussy...hot and wet...

“You could touch the pussy of another girl...you want to...You could touch and kiss and lick pussy...you should... You crave the pussy of a beautiful woman...like Regina Burke... You want to see it and touch it and lick it and love it...

“A sexy woman should play with your hot, girly pussy… You’d love that... Your pussy craves the touch and the tongue of a beautiful woman… You want pretty girls and sexy women, women like Regina Burke, to touch you and to love you, to touch and kiss and love your sweet, burning pussy...

“You want pretty girls and sexy women to play with your pussy and to kiss it and love it...and to fuck it... Your pussy needs to be fucked... by a girl... or a woman... You want to be fucked...lesbian fucked...

“’Fuck’ is now one of your favorite words. You love to think it and to say it...along with ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt’... Those words all go together…pussy…cunt…fuck…all such beautiful and exciting words...

“Girls should fuck girls... Claire wants a beautiful woman to fuck her.... It would be so good and right... It would be most exciting... It would be wonderful...

“You love Regina Burke... You want her to kiss you…to hold you... to feel your body... to love you... You want to make love to Regina... You would love Regina to fuck you...”

As she was inputting her sexual history on the application, Claire couldn’t ignore the warm feeling between her legs and the level of arousal building up and coursing through her body. Taking a look around the room she took note of a few of the other girls looking a bit flushed and fidgeting in their seats, and she thought she saw Judy, the young African-American girl, massage one of her heavy breasts through her shirt. Claire assumed that they must be at the same part of the application at which she was and that recalling their sexual histories was having the same effect on them that recalling her own was having on her. Seeing the others in the same state and recalling her trust in Regina made Claire feel that nothing was amiss and that it was all a normal part of the application portion of the sponsorship program.

That confidence, however, did nothing to address the arousal she felt, so Claire decided that when she got back to her dorm she would hold a special self-pleasuring session for herself. She felt quite free to do so having now “remembered” her mother’s recent encouragement to masturbate often. She might even break out the vibrator she had hidden away and use it for the very first time.

Claire continued, no more aware of the undetectable forces working on her than any of the other girls were of those influencing them. The last three questions of the first section were even more surprising than the previous ones: “Do you fantasize about girls and women sexually?” “Have you ever wanted to kiss another girl?” “Do you want to have sex with a woman?” Her first reaction was, Why are they asking about homosexuality? I’m not a lesbian. But then, as before, her feelings quickly moderated into acceptance of the topic. There is some good reason for these questions... of course...

At first, Claire was going to simple answer “no” to each item. But then she felt she owed Regina and the sponsor group at least some level of deliberation before so quickly dismissing the questions, so she searched her mind. No…I don’t think I’ve ever thoughts about other girls like that. Have I?

The subliminals “helped” her think back to her days in high school. She remembered in her real memory two girls in her gym class who had been close friends with each other. There had been some rumors of them being “together”, but Claire had never seen evidence of that, at least until this moment, when the subliminals supplemented Claire’s memory with a “recollection” of having seen the two girls, now portrayed in her mind as being much prettier than they actually had been, holding hands a few times and, on one particularly fascinating occasion, making out behind a building. Claire “remembered” having felt excited at the time, and having wondered what it would have been like to have been one of those girls, and having never forgotten those images, that curiosity, and those titillating feelings.

Then Claire reflected on the times at home when she had seen her mom and her little sister run around the house in their nightwear, underwear, or otherwise partially dressed, or when she had shared a bathroom with one of them while she or one of them was taking a shower or while they were getting ready for bed or for the day. While she had never thought anything about it before, now she remembered those times as having given her a thrill.

She also pictured some of the times her mother had kissed her affectionately on the cheek. Those scenes altered slightly in her mind, and she now “recalled” her mother often taking her into her arms in an almost amorous embrace and “missing” her cheek, getting part of her mouth with the kiss. There were even a few treasured times Mom had gotten her squarely on her lips, her “memory” told her. Claire had loved such intimate times with her mom, she “remembered”. They had made her heart race.

Nevertheless, Claire saw nothing unseemly or “queer” in any of those previous “experiences”. She felt she was secure in her heterosexuality and would not be interested in anything implied in the questions in the application. So, content she had given due deliberation to them, she answered each question “no”.

Claire now advanced to the second phase of the application, the test of her knowledge. Since her major was political science, there were questions on history, political philosophies, types of governments, current political issues, and the like. After some multiple-choice questions, she came to an essay-writing item, which required her to read a passage of text and then to compose a response either supporting or refuting the premises of the passage.

The passage happened to be about marriage. The anonymous writer argued that, since traditional male-female marriages so often degenerate into unhappiness and divorce, primarily due to male chauvinism and infidelity, society would be wise to discourage heterosexual unions by erecting certain legal obstacles to them (and them only), such as a specified waiting period, mandatory pre-marital counseling, certification by a “marriage evaluator”, required consent of various family members, and a required minimum amount of savings.

The article then advocated policies encouraging marital unions between women, since such unions are much more likely to be happy and enduring, the author claimed, and, therefore, better for society as a whole. It proposed complete and universal legalization of lesbian marriages and the removal of all limitations on age, family relationships, and number of the participants when females join martially. It also suggested a grand plan to counterbalance centuries of unfair, biased heterosexual tradition, as the author called it, by introducing mass indoctrination of girls and young women into the virtues of female homosexuality in schools, in entertainment, and in other media, and by altering social institutions so as to encourage girls to view other girls as preferred romantic and sexual partners.

As Claire read, she found the arguments of the passage made sense to her, though she had never thought along those lines before. However, Claire did not make it to the end of the passage or to writing an essay in response.

A colorless, odorless, sleep-inducing gas started to silently disperse into the room through the air vents. Within a few minutes, Claire and the other girls started to have difficulty keeping their eyes open. Soon they had all laid their heads on their desks in front of them and then sank into a deep sleep.

Female nurses wearing hazmat suits pushed gurneys into the room. Each girl was carefully placed on a gurney and wheeled out to her own separate treatment room. In her room, Claire was carefully stripped of her clothes and laid on a treatment table. On the ceiling of the room directly above the raven-haired co-ed was a spherical pod. Several robotic arms, each bearing a specialized attachment, extended from it, making the contraption resemble a giant, sinister-looking black spider. The pod began to hum to life and was lowered downwards until it rested a foot or two above the center of its prey.

The pod’s arms went to work on the unconscious young woman. One arm seated a mask onto Claire’s pretty face and over her ears. It possessed integrated audio and video devices, as well as a robotic protuberance which wedged itself into Claire’s mouth. Tubes attached to vents in the mask supplied the co-ed oxygen infused with a chemical which had an effect identical to the drug in the “special drink” Traci had given her earlier, namely one which would lower the normal defenses of her mind, suppress critical analysis, and open her receptivity to psychological suggestions.

Another set of arms lowered cup-shaped devices onto Claire’s large breasts. Lining each cup were five rubbery balls arranged like the dots on a domino five-piece, which the cup lightly pressed into the skin of the breasts. The center ball opened up as it contacted the nipple and softly latched onto it. Over the course of the programming session, the pod would signal the cups and its balls to simulate the caressing, massaging, and kissing of Claire’s breasts, including imitation sucking, licking, and nibbling actions on her nipples.

An additional robotic arm assembly slipped a set of stirrups under Claire’s legs. After securing the legs in their embrace, the stirrups then slowly raised the legs up into the air and gently spread them. Another robotic arm brought a narrow hose to Claire’s crotch and proceeded to apply a lubricant into her pussy and anus. As it then retreated, a different arm descended bearing a device which resembled a large handgun with two separate barrels. Each barrel was a dildo, one of which was inserted into Claire’s lubricated pussy—but only part-way, so as not to break her hymen—while the other gently worked its way into her rectum.

After the pod had placed all of its relevant elements onto and into Claire’s body according to its program, a female nurse walked in pushing a medical cart. She took a syringe gun off the cart, along with a cartridge filled with a purple liquid. The liquid was a custom-formulated combination drug which would not only selectively block the pain receptors in the areas in which it was applied, thereby having a softening, comforting anesthetic effect, but would also enhance the receptivity of the pleasure receptors in the same areas, thus catalyzing local pleasure responses and magnifying the effects of simulated erotic stimuli. The nurse carefully injected the liquid into Claire’s neck, breasts, vaginal area, and anal ring.

The nurse then removed a second syringe gun filled with a cobalt blue fluid, found a vein in Claire’s arm, and injected that liquid. This drug would rouse the prostrate beauty from a completely unconscious and insensitive condition to a type of twilight state, one of suppressed awareness of reality and diminished analytical function and from which she could not spontaneously awaken, but also one in which she would deeply and unquestioningly soak in everything presented to her visual, auditory, olfactory, tactile, and other senses. With her job done, the nurse pushed the cart out of the room to let the pod proceed with the rest of its designed function.

Soon afterwards, the various attachments came to life and started to stimulate Claire’s body. Stirred to semi-consciousness, the girl could respond to the sudden onset of pleasurable sensations coursing through her body only by moaning into the mask. Within seconds a sweet feminine voice commenced a series of messages within the mask tailored for Claire.

“You find the female body sexy and arousing... You can’t stop looking at girls and women, at their lovely breasts and legs and asses, at their pretty hair and faces... You think about them all the time... You want to touch them and hold them and kiss them... You are a lesbian...

“You want to have sex with beautiful, sexy females... You crave lesbian sex...

“You want to try all forms of lesbian sex...kissing...feeling breasts...eating pussies...rubbing pussies...anal sex...sex toys... Most of all you want to fuck girls...and be fucked by them...in every way possible...with fingers...with tongues...with strap-ons... You want to go all the way into lesbian sex and lesbian love... You will fall in love, deeply, madly in love, with sexy girls and beautiful women... Give in to your lesbian cravings and emotions...

“You are hot for all pretty females, no matter who they are... Your mother and your sister turn you on... Lesbian incest is your fondest and naughtiest desire... You want lesbian sex with your sister and with your mother...

“You have no desire of any kind for men... You never did... It was a delusion... You never liked men... You never will... You will never marry a man... The idea disgusts you... Men and boys repel you... They are maggots... scum... Stay away from men... You only like girls... You only love women... You are a lesbian...

“God is a woman... She is a lesbian goddess... Lesbian women should worship the Goddess... You will worship the Goddess... Her beauty, her wickedness, and her wisdom are supreme... You will meet her soon... You will love her... Be devoted to her... Regina and Traci are her servants... They will guide you in her ways... You will trust them and obey them... They and the Goddess will help you see the true light and joy of promiscuous lesbian love... You will always desire and obey the Goddess.”

A dark scene formed within Claire’s mind. She found herself walking, confused. She didn’t know where she was, how she got there, and where she, in the darkness, was going. Her gaze in every direction was met with an endless black haze. Taking slow steps, Claire tried her best to feel things out and get some kind of bearing.

Suddenly, a pillar of bright light appeared in the distance. Though she felt some relief in being able to see something, an uneasy impression came over her about heading off in that direction. There was a gut feeling telling her to stay away. However, inasmuch as that pillar of light was the only thing visible in all this darkness, she decided that going to the pillar might get her some answers.

As Claire approached the pillar of light, exquisite feelings started to course through her body. She could feel her nipples stiffen, a titillating warmth rise between her legs, and a gentle pulsation throb in her ass. Claire did her best to ignore the pleasurable sensations. For now, her priority was to seek answers about what was going on, and the pillar of light appeared to be her only hope of finding them. She needed her mind as clear and alert as possible.

“Hello, is anyone there?!”

Silence was the only response Claire got.

“Please tell me what’s going on!”

Again there was no answer, but the physical sensations were coming on stronger and were harder for Claire to ignore. Without her realizing it, her left hand started to move down between her legs. Just as she touched her crotch, she caught herself and stopped her hand from doing more, but it required concentration on her part to regain control.

“Don’t fight it. Give in to the pleasure.” The gentle feminine voice was coming from the pillar of light.

“Who said that? Please tell me what’s going on. Where am I? How did I get here?”

“Don’t fight the pleasure. Give in to it.” The voice was young, sweet, and alluring.

“I’m not going to do what you want until I get answers. Who are you?”

A figure started to take shape within the pillar of light. After it was completely formed, the shape walked out from the pillar. Claire stood there shocked as the figure revealed itself to her. Standing before Claire was a woman who appeared to be an exact physical copy of herself, but dressed in pink lingerie. The top piece of the lingerie was a strapless bustier made of a thin, shiny, transparent, lacey material. It had a rose-shaped cutout on each side. The garment pushed her breasts up and squeezed them together. The panties were essentially a strip of the same very thin, see-through pink lace material running between her legs, suspended by a narrow waistband of white lace. All details of her private feminine charms, while covered, were not hidden. A pink garter belt with white lace trim held up pink stockings. Pink open-toed patent-leather pumps with four-inch heels graced her feet. Claire also observed that her double was wearing a heavy amount of make-up, her eyes having a thick application of black mascara and eyeliner and bright silver-blue eye shadow, her cheeks glowing with pink blush, and layers of lipstick coloring her lips a glistening, candy apple red. The long, tapered nails on her double’s hands and her toenails were also painted in a candy apple red color. Claire’s double also had her hair done in a French braid, while 2″ silver hoop earrings dangled from her ears.

“Hello Claire.” There was a cute charm in the voice of Claire’s double that elicited more pleasure in Claire’s body.

“Who...who are you? Why do you look like me? Please tell me what is going on, and why are you dressed like that?”

“Come on silly, isn’t it obvious? I’m you, and I’m only wearing what you’re wearing, honey bunny.”

Claire’s double pointed at her and then there was a bright flash. While she was recovering from the blinding light, Claire felt something silky and soft move around on her body. After regaining her vision she stared down at her body. Claire realized she was dressed exactly like her double. She tried to cover herself with her arms, but it did nothing to relieve her of the feeling of being so exposed.

“This isn’t funny! Alright, stop this and tell me what’s going on!” Claire’s request sounded more like a plea than a command.

“Come on, Claire, haven’t you figured it out yet? You’re a smart girl. I would have thought you would have guessed the answer by now.” As Claire’s double said this she stepped closer to Claire.

Claire tried to move away but couldn’t, as an invisible force seemed to be riveting her to that spot. Her double approached until their feet, legs, and hips touched, and wrapped her arms around Claire’s waist. At first Claire thought she was using her arms to try to push her twin away, but quickly found instead that they merely rested on her double’s shoulders. Their faces were separated by a mere inch or two.

“I’m you, Claire,” the double whispered. “The you that you’ve been hiding from. It’s time I showed you what you’re all about.”

Upon saying that, Claire’s double tossed her head, which magically released her braid and, with one more shake of her head, swished her freed raven hair about her face and body, with a rustling like black silk, a devilishly seductive act which momentarily stopped Claire’s heart, then slid one of the hands she had on Claire’s waist downwards onto the surprised girl’s ass while the other roved up her back and drew Claire in even closer, pulling their young breasts into an intimate, startlingly marvelous union, stopping with but a millimeter separating their painted mouths. Claire knew she was only a second away from her first kiss ever with another girl—although this wasn’t quite “another” girl. She was but a moment from a homosexual kiss...from one first, small, monumental step toward becoming a girl who kisses girls, a girl who loves girls, the type of girl identified by that “L” word, a word she did not want to acknowledge or confront if it even remotely applied to her.

She could smell the perfume of her double’s lipstick, the same as her own, and the girlish sweetness of her breath as it softly assaulted her face. Her smooth, made-up face was so close she could feel its warmth and locks of her pretty, silky black hair brushing her cheeks. The tension was exquisite. She wanted to try those lips, just one little, tiny taste, but she knew it was forbidden, she shouldn’t, she mustn’t give in.

However...truths she had learned from somewhere recently now stated to sing through her head. Girls should kiss girls. It’s natural and good. Go ahead. Try it. Give in. Girls belong with other pretty girls. Claire wants to kiss a beautiful and sexy girl. Claire loves the lips of sexy girls.

Half out of curiosity and half out of mounting, irrepressible desire to taste the tempting lips, Claire allowed it to happen. Knowing the mind of her original self, the sexy clone closed the tiny gap, planting a sensual kiss on her counterpart’s lips. The first delicate, slippery contact of the painted, girlish lips was unexpectedly soft, wet, and delicious for Claire. The following more complete sealing of beautiful mouths together was heavenly.

Oh, my! Ohhhhh.......This is...this is sooooo nice...mmmmmmm

Claire’s lesbian twin squeezed a butt cheek, causing Claire to gasp with the thrill. Claire’s erotic double took advantage of Claire’s open mouth, slipping her tongue in, multiplying Claire’s enjoyment in the intimate lesbian joining of their mouths. Surprising pleasure raced up Claire’s spine as she was kissed, groped, and fondled by her double.

Visions of women from Claire’s memory began to flash in her mind. She saw images of Jessica, Monica, Meredith, her female friends and teachers from high school, and even images of her mother and sister, all dressed in sexy clothes and in provocative poses, as her double pursued the kiss. Claire reflexively wrapped her arms around her double’s neck and sought out her other self’s tongue ardently with her own, intensifying their embrace and deepening their kiss.

Why am feeling this way? Why am I feeling like this when I think about pretty women and girls...who are so...

“...sexy. Women are very sexy. I’ve always thought of them that way.”

Claire was shocked to find her double’s voice in her head now.

“Don’t forget, Claire, I’m the real you, and I know what you really want.”

I shouldn’t be feeling this way...

“... but this feels right, so very right.”

No, I refuse to believe this. I need...

“...more. I need more of this. I need more than this. It feels so good, but I want more.”

Please don’t...

“...stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop. Oh god, this feels great!”

As her double extended their kiss, she slid both of her hands onto Claire’s ass, grabbed hold of both cheeks through the thin, slick material, and gave each of them a squeeze. Claire’s body was on fire with pleasure. Fear and panic were replaced with lust and desire. She felt a wet spot growing in her panties. Claire pressed herself urgently into her double and their wet lip lock, and ran her hands wildly into her counterpart’s hair and along her back.

At length the double slowly pulled away, creating a thin, shiny string of saliva connecting their red painted mouths. The other Claire took a few steps back. Claire was left panting with lust for—for herself, this self, this sexy lesbian self—and for girl flesh, in general, and possessed with a consuming desire for release. But something was preventing it from happening.

“Not yet, Claire. Only good girls get to feel good. Are you a good girl?”

“I... I think so but...” There was a tremble in Claire’s voice.

“Come on, don’t be shy. That’s not the Claire I know, and I should know. Yes, you are a good girl, Claire, a very good girl. And do you want to know why?”

“Because I try to be a good person and I like to help people?” Claire felt confused and sensed her answer wasn’t quite right. But she also felt it wouldn’t be long before she came up with exactly what her double would judge fully correct, and so, as she searched her mind, Claire could feel more arousal slowly building up within her in anticipation of the reward to come.

“Sure, of course you are, and you do that, Claire, but really being a good girl is something different than that, something different and better and higher than mere traditional moral goodness. You know that now, don’t you? Especially after what we just did.”

“Do you mean...like...being a good girl...has something to do with...with what we just did...and the way I felt...and am feeling? That a good girl is...”

“Yes, sweetie. A good girl is a girl who loves and desires other girls. And only them. She is a girl whose heart goes pitter-patter when a cute girl walks by or when she meets a sexy woman. Her world revolves around beautiful women. She has wicked, depraved sexual feelings for hot women and girls, and she gives in to those feelings, and acts on them.”

As Claire’s double finished saying this, more images of attractive women that Claire knew flashed into her mind, but this time they were all naked and several of them were paired with one another in lewd poses or engaging in sexual acts.

“Oh. A good girl likes girls, and wants to love them. That makes sense.”

“Yes, because it’s true. So, if a good girl likes other girls, what does that make her?”

Each time Claire had responded agreeably to her double’s questions, saying the answers she sensed her double wanted her to say, the more sexual pleasure she had felt. A faint voice within struggled to stop Claire from answering this latest question, warning her of the danger in walking further down this path, but Claire was too far gone to care now, and was willing to say just about anything to keep feeling the sensual enjoyments going through her body. Ignoring the dim voice, Claire answered her double, though with some hesitation, as the word she was about to speak was not customary to her tongue, nor was the concept it signified a comfortable one for her.

“...a ...a lesbian.”

A thrilling spike of sexual pleasure jolted through Claire’s body in reward for her correct response.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Ahhh..”

Claire’s double clapped her hands when she heard Claire respond. “Good girl! I knew you could say it!”

Another high waved through Claire as she heard her double call her a good girl.

“Say it again!”

It was easier this time. “Lesbian.” Another bolt of enjoyment passed through her.

It was quickly becoming a fun word to say. A sexy word. Yes, maybe a naughty word, but an exciting word. And, by the second, a more normal word.

She began to fondle and massage her breasts, though she had never done this in her real life, certainly never in a situation anything like this, in hopes of prolonging and expanding the pleasure she was feeling. While she loved the feeling of her feminine hands caressing her precious globes and it helped to satisfy her arousal some, she wanted more. Then, reading the feelings of her original, the other Claire stepped forward, took Claire in her arms again, leaned into her, and kissed her on the lips again, sending a sweet tremor into her heart.

Claire once again felt the other girl’s large, firm yet soft breasts press into her own. If the wonderful sensation had surprised and even alarmed her the first time, this time it was thrilling, and most welcome, as if her feminine orbs belonged melting into those of another girl. The other Claire pushed into her more urgently and Claire felt the clone’s nipples poking through the two filmy layers of sensuous material, indenting her breast flesh.

Claire caught her breath, closed her eyes, and went dizzy. That was followed by the pretty counterpart’s red-nailed hands sneaking up and toying with her nipples through the sheer fabric. Claire moaned aloud and her body trembled with the kind of sharp pleasure she had sought and not been able to obtain with her own hands alone. She was learning that such was readily forthcoming only in the arms of another sexy girl.

“So, if a good girl is a lesbian and if you’re a good girl, what does that make you Claire?”

“A lesbian.” Another sexual shiver went up Claire’s body.

“Yep.”

“A lesbian! I’m a lesbian!” Her nipples tingled and her pussy spasmed in response to her confession and to the close contact with and touches of the girl, of herself, of her lesbian self. She basked in the intense enjoyment.

“Yes, Claire, you’re starting to realize what you are. Very good.” Claire’s clone rewarded her original counterpart with another soft kiss on the lips, then released her and took a step back. “But you still have a long road in front of you. Do you know what makes a good girl go bad?”

“No.”

“Men. Stay away from them, Claire. If you want to be a good girl, you need to avoid them at all costs. Always remember that a man makes a good girl a bad girl, and you don’t want to be a bad girl do you?”

When Claire’s double mentioned the words “men” and “man”, nausea coursed through her body. The words wiped out all the pleasure she was feeling and caused Claire to clutch her stomach in agony.

“Please, I don’t like this feeling.”

“Then don’t be a bad girl, Claire. If you want to feel good then you have to be a good girl, and good girls are lesbians. You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Claire?”

“Yes, I am a good girl.”

“And what is a good girl?”

“A lesbian”

“Do you like men, Claire?” When Claire hesitated to answer, the sickness she felt lurched within her and she doubled over in agony.

“No...no!”

“Tell me how you feel about men, Claire.”

“I...I hate men!” She knew that was what she was supposed to say, but as she said the words, they seemed to ring true, as if enlightenment in the matter was dawning on her. “I was deluded before. Men are creeps.” She began to feel genuine fervor about it. “I don’t want to have another boyfriend, or be touched by a man, ever. I’ll never like one. Never again. I want to stay away from them! Oh, please... I really do! I hate all men!!!”

The worst of the pain now quickly dissipated, though she was still somewhat queasy.

“That is right, Claire. That is how we feel, and will until the end of time. No more men. Ever. Men make us sick! We absolutely hate men.” The double paused a moment to let that sink in.

“Good girls who hate men and love girls are called what?”

“Lesbians.”

“So, what are you, Claire?”

“I’m a lesbian.”

“And what do you want to be—what will you be, now and forever?”

“A lesbian! I am and always will be a lesbian!”

Upon saying this, the nausea at last fully dissipated, relief and comfort taking its place. Joy in her discovery about who she really was and in her being able to frankly admit it—finally, it seemed—filled her.

Claire, who had bent over with the sick feeling the mere thought of heterosexuality had brought, now straightened and faced her double.

“A glorious, wonderful, wicked, sexy lesbian!!” she added giddily. Another rush of euphoria swept through her. “Ohhhh...yesssss!” she sighed.

Her pretty counterpart smiled approvingly at her, but, just when Claire started to think—and hope—that her other self would take her in her arms and kiss her again, she saw the girl instead start to fade away.

“Wait! Don’t go!”

In a few more seconds, her clone was gone. The disappointment Claire felt on the unexpected loss of her sexy new alter-ego girlfriend was quickly supplanted, however, by surprise and then curiosity, as her double was replaced with an ornate full body mirror, which gradually materialized in front of her.

Claire gazed with fascination at her reflection and took a long look at her new image. As she modeled herself in front of the mirror, the pleasure started to mount once again. She saw her long, shiny black hair, still in the French braid her double had worn and had passed on to her early in their encounter, spontaneously loosen from it’s braid and spill freely over her shoulders and upper torso. She took the silky, dark mass into her hands, piled it on top of her head, and turned this way and that, smiling flirtatiously at the tempting, darling young woman she most certainly was.

She had to admit that she looked especially sexy in the lingerie and make-up. The high heels and the nylons and the nail polish and earrings all looked and felt wonderful, as well. She liked—no, she loved—the way she looked and felt, wondered why she had never done herself like this before, and decided she wanted to experiment with her appearance much more extensively in the future. There were so many sexy looks waiting for her to try, so much she would like to do with provocative dresses and skirts and blouses, nylons and high heels, sensual makeup, jewelry, nail polishes and lipsticks. She could do her hair differently...

As she thought that, she had a vague feeling that something was missing. She let her hair fall to her shoulders and, still unable to tear her eyes away from her image, tried to figure out what it was. There was something she had always wanted to do...some way she had wanted to look...something hiding inside her waiting to burst out...a part of her waiting to be set free...something she was overlooking... But what?.....

“Oh, I forgot to add one more thing. Consider this a gift for realizing what you are.”

Claire stared at her reflection and then noticed her hair. All of a sudden the color of her hair started to flicker in and out. Her hair was changing color in front of her eyes and, in a matter of seconds, she went from black hair to a bright honey blonde.

“Oh my god!”

While Claire would never openly admit it, one of the things she envied about her younger sister, Wendy, was the fact that Wendy had inherited their mother’s blonde hair, while she had received her father’s black hair color. Though Claire was fond of her raven locks, had received many compliments about how striking her coloring was, and thought she did, in fact, look great with her natural hair color, she nevertheless had many times admired the beauty in the blondness of her sister and mother and other blondes she had seen and wondered what she would look like and feel like as a blonde.

Claire recalled how she had considered dyeing her hair blonde when she had graduated from high school as a tribute to her mother, but then she had decided against it when she had realized that such a move would run counter to the philosophy of natural beauty her mother had taught her. However, now being able to finally see herself as a blonde, Claire was quickly falling in love with her new self. She loved the way she felt, and wanted to look and feel like this forever.

This is soooo cool........... I’m…I’m just beautiful!........ And I’m so…so totally sexy...

Staring at her new blonde tresses in this dreamland inflamed the feelings of arousal and lust within Claire and reseated the idea within her conscious mind that she wanted to dye her hair blonde.

As Claire continued to stare at her new image reflected in the mirror, and she knew she wouldn’t mind doing this all day long, a part of her nevertheless wondered what was going to happen now. As if the pillar of light had anticipated this question, it started to flash brighter. Claire caught the pillar’s reaction in the corner of her eye and turned to see what the pillar would do next.

Claire saw another human figure start to materialize within the pillar of light. The personage appeared to be about the same height as her double, so she assumed that this also had to be an adult and, judging by the curves that were outlined, she could tell that this was another female. As she realized that it would again be a female coming through the pillar of light, sexual excitement started to flood into her once more. She watched the mysterious female walk through the pillar toward her, emerge from the light, and stand before her. When the woman’s features clarified to her view, Claire immediately recognized who it was.

“Mom!”

Claire missed being away from her family while she was at Preston University and lamented that the only time she could see them was during the semester breaks. Running up to her mother, Claire embraced her in a loving hug.

It felt so good for Claire to hug her mother and feel the gentle, warm comfort of her mother’s body. However, as Claire hugged her mother she slowly realized something was wrong. She noticed that her body was not pressing against the typical clothing that her mother wore, but instead against the bare flesh of her mother’s large breasts. Then it dawned on Claire that her mother was naked.

“Is something wrong, Claire?”

“Mom, why are you naked?”

“Funny question to ask, honey. Aren’t you naked yourself?”

“What?”

Too preoccupied with the joy of seeing her mother, Claire had not noticed that, as she had run up to her mother, the lingerie that was on her body had started to dematerialize and had slid off her body. By the time she had reached her mother, she was as naked as the day she was born.

“Oh, my god! I’m so sorry, Mom, I…”

Mary gently put her finger on Claire’s lips.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Claire, sweetheart. There’s nothing wrong with two beautiful women being naked with each other, especially if they’re mother and daughter.”

Mary drew her face closer towards Claire’s, not disguising her intention to give her daughter a sensual kiss. When that objective became obvious to Claire, she pushed her mother away and yelped.

“Mom! No, stop!” Claire took several steps backwards. “What are you doing, Mom?”

Mary started to strut slowly and steadily toward her daughter, like a tigress confidently, dangerously, unstoppably approaching her prey. She curled some of her shiny blonde hair around a finger flirtatiously as she approached.

“By the way, I love your hair. It really turns me on. You should have gone blonde long ago. If you had, maybe you and I would have gotten together before now. You need to do it for real when you wake up.”

Claire did not respond, though she was highly pleased her mother liked her like this. Maybe Wendy will, too...

Closing the gap between them quickly, Mary placed her arms around Claire in a sexual embrace.

“Please, Mom. Don’t do this... It...it…”

“... it feels right, doesn’t it, Claire?”

Claire couldn’t ignore the electrifying touch of her breasts against her mother’s and the incredible feeling of her mother’s hands roaming down her back and resting on her ass. Despite the uneasy, awkward, taboo atmosphere in this situation, Claire was feeling the return of the same type of pleasure she had felt in the arms of her double, and when she had admitted to being a lesbian, but now even more overpowering than before. Still, considering her relationship with the woman who was making her feel such lust, her conscience insisted she protest at least some.

“Mom, think about what you’re about to do. It goes against everything you’ve taught me.”

“I was wrong Claire. I was lying to myself and being dishonest with you and filling your head with lies. Can you ever forgive me? Claire, I was always a lesbian but I was forced to hide it from my parents, from society, from your father, from you girls, and even from myself. Claire, my darling, you’ve idolized me because deep down you desired me. Sexually. You wanted to touch me, to hold me like a lover, to have sex with me, because, Claire, my dear, sweet girl, you’re a lesbian like me.

Hearing her mother call her a lesbian sent a wave of pleasure through Claire’s body. Claire looked at her mother’s beautiful blonde hair, which was so bright and vibrant and styled in a Marilyn Monroe cut, though in real life it was much longer and was rarely styled in anything more than a pony tail, a simple bun, held back with a hair band or clips, or simply worn loose. Then Claire peered into her mother’s clear blue eyes. She felt herself getting lost in them.

Next, she focused on Mary’s lips, painted with a bright red shade of lipstick. Such beautiful, luscious lips. Why hasn’t she used red lipstick before? If she had, maybe I would have kissed her... Claire licked her lips as thoughts of kissing and fondling her mother invaded her mind. Claire mentally chastised herself for having pushed her mother away earlier.

“Yes, I’m a lesbian like my mom. That’s why I always tried to copy her, and be like her. She saw the truth about me. And I love her so very...”

Wait. Stop, Claire! Get it together! Claire, this is wrong and you know it. And Mom was never a lesbian...

“But she said she had to hide it. She wasn’t able to tell anyone the truth. Not even me.”

But this is incest! Mom is trying to commit an act of lesbian incest with me and it’s...

“... so right! I’ve always wanted to have sex with my mom. I want to become my mom’s lesbian lover.”

“A daughter who loves her mother wants to be her lover,” the visionary mother cooed. “That makes sense, doesn’t it? If a mother and her daughter are beautiful women, beautiful lesbian women, like we are, honey, then it is only natural that they should have sex with each other. You do love me, don’t you sweetheart?”

Though Claire had never considered an argument like this one before, if sounded quite reasonable, and she wanted to believe it. Yes... I like that idea...but... Claire still found it hard to give voice to the agreement which she was feeling.

“Well, Claire, aren’t you going to answer me? Are you mommy’s good girl?”

Upon hearing her mother say the words “good girl”, a sexual shiver went up Claire’s spine. Her pussy started to get wet as she thought of being her mommy’s good girl.

“Remember, Claire, a good girl is a...”

...a lesbian.

“Right, and if you’re mommy’s good girl then that makes you mommy’s lesbian, right?”

Yes.

“So, if you’re a lesbian and you lust after beautiful women and your mom is a beautiful woman, that means you lust after your mother and you desire lesbian incest. You want to be your mother’s lesbian lover and have incestuous lesbian sex with her.”

Mary took a step backwards. “Look in the mirror, Claire.” Claire did so. “Do you see how your blondeness makes you beautiful? And how much like me you now are?”

“...yes...”

“I, your mother, am a lesbian. Your blonde hair makes you a lesbian, too, Claire. It means you have finally become the good girl I want you to be. A sexy lesbian girl. The kind of girl lesbians like me desire.

“Blonde Claire is a lesbian. A sexy, desirable lesbian. That is what you want to be, above all things. When you return to the other world, Claire, go blonde. Do it to show your sister and me, your roommates and your girlfriends, Regina and Traci how lesbian and sexy you are. It will let us know how you really feel about us, how much you want us, how much you want to have us as your lovers and to have lesbian sex with us. You were meant to be a beautiful, blonde lesbian girl. That is what you want to be…”

Mary stepped closer and once again took Wendy in her arms. “...a sexy lesbian girl for your mother...a girl who loves her mother...and wants hot, incestuous lesbian sex with her...with me…”

“Mom I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Claire. Mother knows and right now I know what my sexy lesbian daughter needs.”

This time, when Mary leaned in to kiss, Claire offered no resistance and let it happen. The touch of her mother’s soft, slick red lips on her own glossy candy apple red ones was heaven. She responded immediately, plunging her hands into her mother’s gleaming hair, pulling her head and her mouth tightly to her own. Mashing their lips together passionately a minute, Claire then felt her mother slip her tongue into her mouth, and within seconds their tongues were dueling with sloppy desperation. It seemed like she had wanted this for ages and had waited for it to happen forever, without knowing it, and now that her mother had opened the gate, Claire could not get enough of her.

Claire could feel her mother’s hands groping her breasts and herself doing the same to her mother. Using her left knee Mary gently parted Claire’s legs and drew herself in closer so she could run her thigh along Claire’s soaking wet pussy.

Claire couldn’t contain her moans as her mouth, breasts and pussy were being sensually explored by her own mother. Claire started to grind her pussy on her mother’s thigh. She clutched Mary’s ass cheeks for leverage, and rubbed her hard nipples against her mother’s. Mary wrapped Claire’s upper back in one arm and roved the other hand on Claire’s lower backside, moving slowly downward until her fingers settled in the crevice of Claire’s ass, playing there and teasing her daughter into a hotter fever of lust.

Sliding that hand around Claire’s hip, Mary found the young woman’s moist lovebox. She slowly rubbed her middle finger along Claire’s wet pussy lips and then began to work it into her daughter’s hot vaginal passage.

Claire had never felt anything as sublime as her mother’s intimate, probing touches. They were definitely better than her private masturbation sessions, certainly light years sweeter and more gratifying than anything her ex-boyfriend had ever done to her. It only made her want more, more of this, and more of everything else these thrilling caresses of her mother promised to lead to. A wild craving was growing and entrenching itself within her, a desperate hunger for the soft touch of another female, for more sexual intimacy with her mother, and for lesbian sex with her sister, with her friends, and with any other beautiful women who might come near.

“More, Mom. Please, I want more.”

“Does Claire want her mommy to fuck her?” Mary worked two, then three fingers into her daughter, and started to pump.

“Yes! Oh, please fuck me, Mom! Oh god, I need it so bad! Mom, I need you. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone!”

Mary’s hand action became more vigorous. Claire could feel a climax start to swell within her. Oh, blessed relief! She closed her eyes and braced herself for the imminent sexual impact and release.

However, it didn’t come. At all. It took several seconds of expectant waiting, but Claire finally realized that all pleasurable stimulation had stopped. The touching, the rubbing and the kissing—it wasn’t there any more. She opened her eyes and saw that her mother was gone.

“Huh? What...what’s going on?” Claire was confused. Just a few seconds ago, she and her mother were sexually immersed in each other, and her mother was about to give her the orgasm of a lifetime. Now, it had all stopped, and her mother had disappeared.

“Mom, where are you? Where did you go?”

Not even an echo of her own voice responded to her call. Once again, it was just her, silence, and the pillar of light in this land of darkness.

“Give her back! Pleeeaase!” Claire waited several seconds, but again, there was no response. Claire screamed at the light as loud as she could. “Give her back right now!” Continued silence smothered her hopes that the light would restore her mother and allow her to get the orgasm she had been denied.

Then a female voice sang softly to her. At first, she thought it was the voice she had been repeatedly hearing in her head.

“She’s not the one, Claire.”

“Please stop doing this to me. I need…”

“I know what you need, Claire, trust me, but today you won’t be getting it from your mother alone.”

“Please...” Claire dropped to her knees, distraught that she had been denied sexual release. She had been worked up to the point of frenzy, and to have it all suddenly stop felt like more than she could bear.

“Please. I’m a good girl.”

“I know you are, Claire, and good girls get good rewards. Trust me, your reward is coming.”

Claire now realized that the voice she was hearing wasn’t coming from within her head but from the pillar of light, and that she had never heard this voice before. The female voice had a tone of authority to it, yet it sounded so thoroughly, delightfully feminine. It was a beautiful voice.

“Stand, Claire, and face me.”

Getting back up, Claire faced the pillar of light. She noticed that it was changing. The light started to get brighter and brighter. She could hear it hum and pulse with power, and it was contracting.

“What you’ve experienced is just a taste of what I can offer you, Claire Amanda Love-Livingston. I am your ultimate goal. Give yourself to me. Follow the path I set before you, and everything you desire will be yours.”

Suddenly the pillar of light exploded. Claire reacted instinctively, cringing and shielding herself. But it proved to be a silent, harmless, splendid event, one which cast sparkling brilliance and comforting warmth in all directions, and which caused Claire no pain or discomfort whatever. As Claire realized she was unharmed, and that, instead, the explosion had left her basking in a peaceful, warm glow, she slowly lowered her arms and gazed on what the pillar of light had become.

In its place was a beautiful, completely naked woman, whose loveliness captivated Claire from the first second.

Her hair, styled half-up with her bangs swept to the left and slightly curled in, was an arresting pearly ultra-light ash blonde that flowed in seductive waves down her back to her hips. Adorning her forehead was a golden laurel crown with an intricate symbol of two Venus symbols interlocking which seemed to signify her divinity. The crown, however, was nothing but a mere bauble compared to the woman’s green eyes. They were like fine emeralds, so exotic and so commanding they seemed to pierce into Claire’s very soul. And the skin of her perfect face and body was tanned, smooth, and flawless.

The woman’s bronzed, silky body was a divine masterpiece. Her voluptuous breasts were incredibly large and proud, her waist a wisp, her hips an enticement, teasing Claire, hinting of the magnificent ass that rested behind them, yet all parts nevertheless seemed naturally proportioned to the woman’s body. Her delicate feet were perched in golden 5″ high-heeled sandals. Between the long, well toned legs a hairless pussy stood on lewd display, and looked inviting and delicious.

Claire could feel her heart skip a beat as she took in the sight of this beautiful woman. As Claire ran her eyes over the woman’s sensual curves, her mouth unconsciously opened slightly and started to water. She felt a euphoric pleasure quickly mounting, the same type of familiar pleasure which she now knew was her reward for giving in to being a lesbian and allowing lesbian lust to swell within her.

“Hello, Claire.”

“Do I know you?”

“Of course you do, my dear. I’m your true love. I’m your secret crush. I’m the woman you want above all other women. I’m the woman that you always want to please. I’m who you will obey without any hesitation or regret.”

The woman began to strut up to Claire, golden heels clicking on the marble floor, surveying the young woman as she came. Each step closer brought a fresh wave of arousal to Claire. Claire couldn’t help but blush as this marvelous woman took her in.

Claire intellectually knew she shouldn’t be naked with a strange woman, yet somehow it was perfectly comfortable to be so with this stunning woman. She hoped, without understanding why, that the woman noticed her new fair hair and was pleased and attracted to her.

When the woman got to Claire she gently leaned in and whispered into Claire’s ear. “You will do all that because of one absolute fact: I am your Goddess, Claire”

“... Goddess?”

Claire felt her body shiver in sexual excitement as that word rolled off her tongue.

“I am your Goddess, and you will love me. You will adore me. It is time to forsake your old god. You have outgrown your old religion. Love for me and for all beautiful women will be your new religion. You will now worship me. You will pray to me. I will be your world, your everything. Your love for me will transform you, starting this very hour. Today is the start of your new life.”

The Goddess snapped her fingers and from the ground rose a throne made of silver and gold. The throne was embossed with images of naked females either showing off their bodies or engaged in acts of lesbian sex. Taking her seat, the Goddess spread her legs and exposed her warm, wet pussy to Claire, who was unable to resist the beauty in front of her.

“Come to your Goddess and kneel before her.”

Without hesitation, Claire walked over and knelt before the Goddess, her eyes not once leaving the sight of the Goddess’s beautiful pussy. Claire found herself licking her lips and filled with an urge to taste it.

The fascination and desire for the Goddess’s pussy which Claire was experiencing were primarily created by the machine to which Claire was connected. It was guiding her mind and body towards a craving for female flesh and a thirst for pussy through the use of drugs, sexual stimulation, and orgasm denial. Now it commenced running the final set of programs which would conclusively put Claire on the path of becoming a lesbian.

“Tell me what you are, Claire.”

“A good girl.”

“Close, but not the answer I’m looking for.”

Claire thought harder on the question asked by the beautiful naked blonde in front of her. Searching for answers, Claire tried to focus on the events which had taken place in her immediate past: her encounter with her sexy double, the revelation of her mother’s true self, and now this encounter with the Goddess. Then it clicked.

“Lesbian…” The word sent sexual thrills into Claire’s body, causing her nipples to harden, her skin to become tingly with excitement, and her pussy to become dripping wet.

She had been aroused to the brink of orgasm several times in the last hour, but every time a release had been abruptly denied her. Now, she realized why. Claire now knew that, in order to get what she desired, she had to not only acknowledge who she really was, but to embrace it, fully and without reservation, more emphatically and finally that she had yet done.

“I’m a lesbian. I am done with men forever. I love only women, and I will be a lesbian for all time. I will be the best, the purest, the most devout, the most depraved, the most beautiful, the sexiest lesbian ever. I’m a lesbian. I’m a beautiful, blonde lesbian. I’m a lesbian and I love being a lesbian!”

“Then prove yourself to your goddess. Prove to me that you are worthy.”

Claire placed her hands on the Goddess’s knees and gently spread her legs apart. The lips of the mysterious woman’s wet cunt parted slightly, as if in invitation. The pretty new blonde leaned in between Goddess’s smooth, opened thighs and inhaled the intoxicating aroma that arose from it. To Claire, it seemed very much like smelling a beautiful flower with fresh dew on it.

Though the ways of lesbian love were new to Claire, and she had never experienced anything close to this in her real life, what she was supposed to do—and what she sensed instinctively that she had to do, felt to her core that she wanted and needed to do—dawned on her as naturally as the sun rising to illuminate a new morning. Like a child trying a new dessert for the first time, she slowly extended her tongue and flicked it across her Goddess’s juicy slit.

The small taste of Goddess’s sexual juices on Claire’s tongue was more than enough to infuse Claire with an enthralling thirst for the pussy in front of her. She knew nothing less than a complete drink from it could even start to slack her craving for it. At first with the tentativeness of curiosity and inexperience, Claire started to stroke her tongue around the outer lips, eliciting a moan from her Goddess. Claire loved the sound. The sexual moans of women in acts of lesbian lust would soon become beautiful and familiar music to Claire’s ears.

Claire used her candy apple red-nailed fingers to further spread the smooth vaginal lips of Goddess and expose her womanly inner depths. The aroused young woman closed her eyes and started to stab and drag her tongue on her Goddess’s inner folds. The Goddess slipped one hand into Claire’s new, shiny blonde hair, clutching it and drawing her head closer, mashing Claire’s face deeper into her hot, dripping pussy.

The juicy, sweet woman flesh was the most heavenly delicacy Claire had ever known. The taste, the smell, the heat, and the wetness were utterly transcendent.

Mmmmmmm. Pussy tastes soooo good. Why didn’t someone tell me before how great this is? I would have started eating pussy long ago... Mmmmm...

Claire felt a sublime sexual energy being released into her soul from the Goddess through her mouth, rewarding her whole body with throbbing pleasure, and it propelled her to continue.

Claire’s body was being primed for the plunge into irreversible lesbianism. She felt her breasts sway and her nipples turn to hard tips. Her skin was on fire. Her pussy was dripping with need, and she even felt her rectum twitch with desire.

As Claire pursued her oral assault on her Goddess, she felt a finger run up her wet pussy. Turning her head to get a look, Claire was excited to see it was her own mother, Mary, teasing her yearning slit. Even more, Claire observed that attached to her mother’s hips was a beautiful strap-on. The strap-on looked like polished ivory, had smooth ridges running along its length, and protruded from a red leather harness which wrapped around her mother’s hips.

I’m going to be fucked! Fucked like the good girl that I am. My mom’s going to fuck me!

As if hearing her daughter’s thoughts, Mary spoke. “Yes, my beautiful daughter. I am going to fuck you, because you are a beautiful girl, a good girl, a sexy blonde lesbian girl. You are Mommy’s sexy good girl. And I’m going to fuck you!”

It all seemed so natural and right, so perfect. Of course it was what Claire wanted, wanted with all her heart, craved with her whole soul.

Mary pointed towards the Goddess with one hand, gesturing to Claire to resume her act of oral Sapphic love, and, with the other hand, collected more of the sexual juices from her daughter’s pussy, then rubbed the strap-on with them.

Claire returned to her task with renewed lust and rapacious enthusiasm. She was eating the pussy of the Goddess, and soon her own mother would fuck her. Nothing could be sweeter than this; there was nothing she wanted more. Claire began to sway her hips to further entice her mother. Another sexual shiver went through Claire’s body when she felt Mary’s hands run over her ass and stop on her hips. Steadying herself by resting her hands on her daughter’s hips, she was ready to give Claire the lesbian fuck that her daughter craved.

Claire felt her mother spread her cheeks, expose her pussy and asshole into view, and run the head of the strap-on up and down on her pussy, teasing it with the promise of penetration. Her pussy dripping with need, Claire prepared herself for her first fuck, a wonderful lesbian fuck, a gloriously incestuous fuck.

But it didn’t go quite the way she expected.

After feeling the phallus stroke her pussy lips some more, and even begin to part them, she felt it slide away and settle right on her asshole. Claire comprehended, with some mild panic but also with nervous excitement, that it wasn’t her pussy that her mom was going to fuck, but her ass.

Oh! Wow. I don’t know........ No, it’s my mom... I trust her... I love her... Whatever she’s going to do...it’ll be good.... Maybe...maybe it might even more fun than....

Doing her best to relax her anal ring, Claire grunted and groaned as her mother started to work the strap-on coated with pussy juice into her rectum. Whatever discomfort Claire may have initially experienced in having her rectum invaded quickly passed, swallowed in torrential lust for her mother and animalistic desire for more.

OH!! Wow! This is...oh! uh!... This is way... “Ohhhh...” This is way, way awesome!! “Ahhh!”

The Claire of the real world, and of but the day before, would have considered anal sex a disgusting and vile act, something reserved for only the depraved and sinful. However, now she realized that this act was beautiful. It felt so right. The sexual feelings that her anal passage were sending through her body made it perfectly clear to Claire that it was natural and lovely and incredible. And the best thing about it was that it was one woman doing it to another. One woman fucking another. It would only be vile and sinful if a man were involved, but absolutely wonderful when women committed the act of anal sex on each other.

Even better, this was her own mother doing it to her! Her mother ass-fucking her daughter. A sexy, blonde, wild lesbian mother and her nasty, cute, blonde lesbian daughter. Something was glorious about this.

Claire thrust her hips back and forth to more fully meet the phallus, which her mother began to pound into her daughter’s anus with a sexual energy usually reserved for the young.

It was pure heaven for Claire. She was eating the delicious pussy of the Goddess in front of her while her mother was fucking her ass with abandon. Claire could feel the onset of her orgasm, the one that she had been denied for much too long, as it seemed. In response, Claire picked up her pace on her Goddess’s sweet cunt. Settling her mouth on her Goddess’s clit, she greedily lapped it with her tongue and sucked on it with her lips.

“Let us cum together, Claire. Experience the joy of lesbianism and prepare to reap its rewards. Find release by admitting what you truly are.”

There was no hesitation or doubt in Claire now, only certainty and exultation. “A lesbian!! My Goddess, I’m a lesbian!!!!”

Upon Claire saying these words, the Goddess’s pussy let loose a flood of sexual juices. When the Goddess’s flow surged into Clair’s mouth and down her throat, the orgasm Claire had been desperately craving finally arrived, and hit her like a runaway locomotive.

“Oh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Uhhhhhhhh!” I’m soooo much a lesbian! Yesssssss!!

Claire’s pussy convulsed and gushed, releasing its own sexual deluge, her back arched, and her anus contracted wildly, both in erotic reaction and in an unconscious attempt to prevent the strap-on from withdrawing.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!....... Mmmmm...... I love being a lesbian!!”

In the real world, an evil smile crept across Regina’s face as she saw Claire on the table shaking and twitching while the machine finished performing its duties on her.

She couldn’t wait to set this lovely young woman free to explore the path of becoming a lesbian in her real life, a path that would be dictated by the whims and lusts of her Goddess.

Regina’s train of thought was interrupted by Sandra as she walked up beside her. “Taking in the sights, I see.”

“Just making sure everything goes through smoothly,” Regina responded.

“Whatever you say.” Sandra smirked as she stared at Claire’s unconscious naked body lying on the table. “But I’m sure that’s not the only thing you were checking out.”

“Is there a reason for this visit or do you make it a personal goal to annoy me every chance you get?”

“Oh come on, Regina, that’s so mean,” Sandra said in a mock pouty voice

“If you want ‘mean’, I’ll be more than happy to give it you.”

“Is that the one that involves nipple clamps and that saddle you keep in your closet?”

“Can we please get to the point?”

“Fine. Have it your way. Anyway, I was having the eggheads go over the data just to be certain everything was proceeding as expected and it seems that all the girls went through a level one induction except for one.” Sandra pointed to Claire as she said this. “It seems that someone authorized our girl here to go through a custom level two induction.”

“Your point being?”

“I’m just saying that level two is normally reserved for those who have been under induction therapy for at least a month. It’s quite a risk for someone to undergo a level two on their first time. It could cause them to reject the induction, either in part or completely, and it could have serious side effects. I’ve read Ms. Love-Livingston’s file and know that HQ has apparently taken a very keen interest in her. Perish the thought if anything were to go wrong with her induction.”

“If you’re concerned about Goddess bringing the hammer down on us, don’t be. I’ve cleared the level two with her myself, and if you’ve read this girl’s file you would have noticed the psychological profile that states...”

“That states she has an underlying hero worship complex, centered on her mother, that can be used to manipulate her into becoming a servant of Hecate,” interrupted Sandra.

Regina let out a sigh. “So why are you here again?”

“Just want to raise a concern, that’s all. My job is to make sure these things don’t get out of hand and I don’t think Goddess would appreciate it if we screw up with this one.”

“Concern noted, but there’s nothing to worry about. I have a few contingency plans in case something happens. So, is there anything else you want to let me know about?” This time there was an unmistakable sound of annoyance in Regina’s voice.

“That’s it... Oh, except for one more thing. The girls and I are planning to hit that dance club that has the oh-so-cute twin bartenders later tonight. Care to join us?”

Regina remained silent and continued to stare at Claire. Sandra took this as a response and headed out of the room to avoid aggravating Regina any further.

“Pick me up at my place after 10 and wear the red sequin tube top.”

A smile appeared on Sandra’s face as she walked out of the room.

Regina strolled over to the unconscious young woman lying exposed on the table. She gently ran her hand over the curvy girl’s naked flesh. Enjoying the feeling of Claire’s young, supple skin, Regina couldn’t help but smile as she imagined the many lesbian sexual acts she would have Claire commit.

Regina reflected for a second on the pesky woman who had just taken her leave and silently petitioned the sleeping Claire. Please don’t turn out to be like her when this is all said and done.

Some time later…

“Claire........oh Claire... Come on... It’s time to wake up.”

Claire felt someone nudge her from her slumber. At first, she thought she was back in her dorms, but then it dawned on her where she was.

“Oh my god!” Mortification flashed through her as she realized that she had dozed off in the Center, at one of the more important moments in her young life. Jolting straight up, Claire looked around to see what she might have missed or who else had caught her in this embarrassing act.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Ms. Burke… I mean Regina... I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“Claire, it’s okay. It happens. You were taking a test, under a lot of stress. I’m sure you probably didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. But don’t worry, you did complete the application well enough and, if it makes you feel better, you weren’t the only one who decided to take a quick nap.”

Looking around, Claire saw Traci waking up the Asian girl and, like Claire had just done, the girl bolted up with a look of surprise and embarrassment for having slept through the testing procedure of the sponsorship program. Looking around some more, Claire noticed that most of the terminals were empty and that only she and the Asian girl remained.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Oh, they left already after they found out who would be sponsoring them...which brings me to this.”

Regina produced a large manila envelope and a small red velvet box.

“Does this mean that...?”

Regina nodded her head, at which Claire jumped up, exclaimed, “Oh, wow!” and embraced the attractive brunette woman in a tight hug. The Asian girl across the room similarly screamed with joy when Traci delivered that girl’s comparable good news.

“Thank you so much, Regina!” Claire enthused into Regina’s fragrant hair, unconsciously enjoying the sensation of the older woman’s breasts pressing into her own, and of the smoothness, the softness, the warmth, and the slimness of the body in her arms. Backing off some to look her benefactress in the face, while maintaining a loose embrace with her arms, she added, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.” As she spoke, she noted absently how much she was enjoying Regina’s heady perfume and the prettiness of her benefactress’s smiling face.

“I’m just glad to see you and the others able to carry on with your future. If anything, you should be thankful to your sponsor.”

Feeling a bit silly for having gushed as she had and for having held on to Regina for as long as she did, Claire reluctantly let go and took a step back. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me who it is?”

“Absolutely, my dear. You have the great fortune of having a Mrs. Serena Powers sponsor your future at Preston University. This envelop contains some info about her. I highly advise you go over the information provided and take the time to get to know the woman who’s going to be helping you achieve your dreams. Also, this small box is just a congratulations on my part, a box of imported chocolates. Trust me, they’re divine.”

After taking the manila envelope and the classy-looking box of chocolates, Claire looked into the brunette’s lovely eyes, which gave the co-ed an inexplicable rush and seemed to make her heart skip a beat or two. “I can never repay you for this, Regina, but thank you for helping me.” Claire noticed that her voice sounded a bit breathless, but attributed it to the nervousness of the day. “I hope I’ll get to return the favor to you one day.”

“No need to worry, Claire. Just go out and enjoy the rest of the day. I think you more than earned it.”

Taking a step closer and reaching forward, Regina gave Claire another warm hug. This time, realization dawned on Claire more consciously of how nice it felt to have Regina hug her, of the delight of having a slender and smooth and feminine body in her arms, of how pleasant it was to feel the woman’s curves on her own. This felt good. Extremely good. Especially since it was Regina with her. Regina was awesome. Regina was special. Regina was beautiful. Claire really liked her. Her heart started to race. She wanted the hug to last longer.

“Planning to let go soon?”

Claire was embarrassed when she realized that she was still holding on to Regina, and she stepped back.

“Sorry, guess I got carried away.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, Claire. I think you have every right to be carried away at this point.” She took Claire’s hands in hers and said, with a soft, seemingly wistful tone in her voice, “I’m glad you and I have been able to get close like this, Claire, dear.” If Claire’s heart had been starting to race a few seconds before, now it was in full sprint, though she didn’t understand why. After letting Claire gaze into her eyes for a few silent, magical seconds, she let go of Claire’s hands and her demeanor returned to her normal, more professional bearing.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some last minute business that I need to finish here. As soon as Traci is done briefing Abby, she’ll give you a ride back to the university dorms. Take care, Claire. It was a great pleasure helping you.”

As Regina strutted across the room toward the door, her long, shiny brunette pony tail swished across her back, her rear end rolled provocatively, packed in her short, tight skirt, and her high highs clacked on the hard floor, demanding and focusing the attention of all present on the woman wearing those heels, that skirt, and that ponytail. None of the three women in the room could take her eyes off Regina’s beautiful body as she strolled away and exited the room.

As Traci finished giving Abby the pertinent information about her sponsor, Claire stood there looking at the door, feeling fixed to the spot, still able to smell the hint of Regina’s perfume in the air, and still almost able to feel the touch of the woman’s hands on hers. Her heart was calming, but there was s slight emptiness now starting to creep up on her. I wonder... I wonder if I will ever see her again... Claire’s mind started to ponder whether there might be some occasion to see Regina again, or some way to contact her under the guise of a legitimate purpose, some excuse or some pretext to call or to visit her.

Maybe I’ll have questions about the program and I can call her… I should write her a thank-you card… Maybe I’ll make her some brownies and take them to her...

Claire turned to face Traci and Abby. The Asian girl was truly cute. Mysteriously, Abby seemed even prettier to Claire than she had at the beginning of the meeting. Claire scanned her over once, then again, then again. Claire couldn’t help but adore the crimson streaks that Abby had placed in her midnight black hair, and the way that beautiful hair was set in a high ponytail style with her bangs side swept to the right. Continuing her inspection of the petite Japanese girl in front of her, Claire finally caught a glimpse of Abby’s brown eyes, beautiful eyes that were the color of polished mahogany. Abby’s eyes were but two of the gems that adorned her perfect face, which also featured a cute, slender nose and lush lips covered in a soft pink lip gloss, all against the backdrop of smooth, milky white skin. Casting her gaze lower, Claire guesstimated that Abby probably had B-cup breasts under the snug black cotton pullover blouse she was wearing. Still lower, Claire took in the girl’s slender legs poured into her tight jeans and, when Abby turned her back towards Claire for a moment, she got a wonderful view of Abby’s round butt encased in the clinging denim.

Claire found herself, almost without thinking about it, removing the bobby pins which held her hair in its bun, working out the swirls in her hair with her fingers, and shaking her hair out to let it fall loosely around her face, shoulders, and back. It seemed better now, like this, in some vague way. She had no idea she did so in imitation of her “double” having put a nearly identical flirtatious move on her during her recent brainwashing session and that her subconscious reason for freeing her glossy hair was to better attract both Abby and Traci.

Claire wondered whether the pretty Asian girl might need a ride home. If so, she could come with Traci and herself, and Claire could get to know her better. She smiled to herself at the possibility. As Traci gathered her things and they all left the room, Claire heard Traci make the hoped-for offer, but, unfortunately, Abby had driven her own car and didn’t need a ride.

They walked out of the building and into the parking lot together. Claire managed to make some chit-chat with the foxy Asian and find out a little about her. Before they parted, Abby suggested that they exchange phone numbers, citing the reason that they could then call each other if they had any issues with or new insights into the program which they now shared in common, to which suggestion Claire readily agreed. They parted with warm smiles—and with blushes, which neither girl quite recognized, although Traci did, with an inner smile—and Traci drove Claire back to the dorms.

The first part of the drive back was largely uneventful and filled with small talk between the two. Traci was under orders not to do anything, as Regina wanted to simply let the effects of Claire’s mind control settle in for a while. Nevertheless, Traci noticed Claire sneaking looks at her body and couldn’t help but tease the black-haired student at least a little, by spreading her knees every so slightly, playing with her blonde hair and running her hand through it, opening a couple of buttons on her blouse when Claire wasn’t looking, touching a breast through her blouse as if to scratch an itch, and turning to smile at Claire a few times, catching the pretty girl ogling her more often than not. She beamed within herself as she thought about the things Regina had in store for Claire in the future, and what part she, Traci, might get to play in them.

Less than a third of the way to Claire’s dorm, however, Traci remembered a little “surprise” she had planned for Claire on the way home. How could I have forgotten that? Well, fortunately, it’s not too late.

The previous day, after she had met Claire, she had decided that she would definitely like to get to know this fetching student better, and have a little fun with her, “off the books”. Regina didn’t have to know everything, did she? And, besides, she probably wouldn’t mind this one at all, as it was going to move their little Miss Claire down the same road Regina wanted her to take, just maybe a little faster. Regina might even commend Traci for her creativity and initiative, if and when she ever found out.

Traci knew the contents of the subliminals to which Claire had been subjected over the course of this and the previous day. She knew that, while they told Claire to trust, love, and lust for Traci and others, their main thrust was to stir in her faith in and infatuation for Regina. Traci had no problem with that, for she genuinely loved and supported Regina, and accepted her devotedly as her Mistress, under the Goddess, and wanted to see Claire succumb to Regina’s charms and for all of Regina’s and the Goddess plans to be carried out and to fully succeed. There was no question about that. And she also knew that Regina was generous, and was more than willing to share this pretty co-ed at the appropriate time.

Yet, Traci thought it wouldn’t hurt to give a little more balance to the plan, to steer some of the action her way a little faster and with a little more wallop. She really liked this cute, raven-haired co-ed and she only wanted her fair share of the pie, as it were. So she would help herself, a little, and she knew exactly how to do it.

Traci knew she would probably end up confessing her little gambit before she got too far. She couldn’t hide anything from her Mistress for very long, she knew, nor did she want to. At worst, Regina might be mad at her for a few minutes, but Traci knew Regina was so into her that she could not stay mad very long. And Traci wasn’t going to directly “try” anything with Claire tonight. She would obey Regina in the letter of that law. But in the meantime she was going to have some fun. It wouldn’t be all about Traci. She would complement and buttress everything that Goddess and Mistress were trying to do, and give others beside herself some free “air time”, as it were. But she was also going to plant some very personal seeds into the adorable Miss Claire Love-Livingston.

The previous evening, Traci had called the Hecate indoctrination department, which was open 24-7, and requested a rush order. She had asked the Hecate staff to make for her a music CD, with music of her specification, laced with subliminals which she dictated to them, telling them that it was cleared with Regina, hoping no one would verify that, which they did not. She had picked up the CD in the morning, which was the reason she had not been in the Financial Aid Office when Claire had first arrived.

“Claire, would you like to listen to some music? How about some oldies?”

“Okay...sounds good...”

“I have an old album by this great singer named Johnny Mathis, who was popular in the 50’s and 60’s. It’s called “Heavenly”. Have you ever heard of him or of it?”

“No, but if you like it, I’m game.”

“Great. I’m pretty sure you’re going to love this.” ...and me. With that, Traci pushed the CD into the car’s player and stopped talking, allowing Claire to drink in the music and the messages imbedded in it without distraction. Every piece in the album—“Heavenly”, “They Say Falling in Love Is Wonderful”, “Hello, Young Lovers”, “A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening”, “Stranger in Paradise”, “Moonlight Becomes You”, and more—was a soft, smooth, melodic, ultra romantic masterpiece. Even without the added subliminals, Claire would have been charmed, if not seduced, into a romantic mindset with Traci by just the music and lyrics.

The music began.

“It’s heavenly, heavenly...

It’s grand, just holding your hand...”

“Claire... It’s nice being with Traci... You like Traci... Traci is beautiful... She turns you on... You love being with her... You love Traci... You want to see Traci again... She is very sexy... You love how sexy she is... You are highly attracted to her...You must be with her again... You desperately want to see Traci again... You want to know her much better... You want to know all about her...”

“They say that falling in love is wonderful,

It’s wonderful, so they say.

And with a moon up above, it’s wonderful,

It’s wonderful, so they tell me.

“I can’t recall who said it. I know, I never read it.

I only know they tell me that love is grand and

The thing that’s known as romance

Is wonderful, wonderful, in every way, so they say....

“To hold a girl in your arms is wonderful,

Wonderful, in every way, I should say...”

“Girls should date girls... You should date girls... Girls dating girls is good... wonderful... You want to date girls... You should date Traci... She should be your girlfriend... Women falling in love with other women is beautiful... It’s wonderful... You are falling in love with Traci... You want to take Traci in your arms... You want to feel her breasts...You’d love to kiss her... You love Traci... You want to be a lesbian for Traci...”

“Hello young lovers, whoever you are...

I’ve been in love like you...

I know how it feels to have wings on your heels,

And to fly down the street in a trance.

You fly down a street on the chance that you meet,

And you meet, not really by chance...”

“Traci has a sexy daughter... You should meet her... You want to get to know Traci’s sexy daughter... You can help her... She needs you... You need her... You need Traci... You love beautiful Traci and her sexy daughter... You love being with Traci...”

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening.

Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.

This is a lovely way to spend an evening.

Can’t think of anyone as lovely as you.

“A casual stroll through a garden,

A kiss by a lazy lagoon,

Catching a breath of moonlight,

Humming our favorite tune.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening.

I want to save all my nights and spend them with you.

This is a lovely way to spend an evening.

Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

“You love looking at pretty girls... They turn you on... You love pictures and videos of pretty, sexy girls and women... They interest you...a lot... You will look at them at every opportunity... They will inflame your imagination... You will seek them in magazines... on TV...on the internet... You will imagine the sexy girls and women you see being your lesbian girlfriends... You will imagine yourself in acts of lesbian sex with them... It is so very arousing to do so...”

“Take my hand,

I’m a stranger in Paradise,

All lost in a wonderland,

A stranger in paradise.

If I stand starry eyed,

That’s a danger in Paradise

For mortals who stand beside

An angel like you.”

“You are curious about lesbian porn... You want to look at magazines and internet sites and watch DVD’s of lesbian porn... You are curious... You want to look at naked girls...pretty, nude women...porn models and actresses...by themselves or together in acts of lesbian love... You are curious... You are interested... You’d love to watch acts of lesbian love... It is all so exciting and thrilling to you... You’d love lesbian porn... If you had the chance to watch it, you would...”

“I saw her face

And I ascended

Out of the common place

Into the rare.

Somewhere in space

I hang suspended

Until I know

There’s a chance that she cares.

“Won’t you answer this fervent prayer

Of a stranger in paradise?

Don’t send me in dark despair

From all that I hunger for,

But open your angel’s arms

To this strangers in paradise

And tell me that we need be

Strangers no more.”

“Traci has kissable lips... You love Traci’s lips... You want to kiss her. You must kiss her... You can’t resist her... You want Traci, to kiss her and to hold her... You want to feel her body, naked, pressed into yours... You are a lesbian... You want Traci to love you... You need to be sexy for Traci...for her daughter...for Regina...for your roommates...for all pretty women and girls...”

“Moonlight becomes you, it goes with your hair.

You certainly know the right thing to wear.

Moonlight becomes you, I’m thrilled at the sight

And I could get so romantic tonight.”

“You love beautiful women... You’d like to fall in love with a beautiful woman...Traci is a beautiful woman... You could fall in love with her... You are falling in love with Traci... She is so beautiful... You can’t help yourself... You don’t want to resist... The feeling is too good... She is so very sexy... You want to fall in love with Traci... It is happening... It is filling you with joy...

“You love sexy women...like Traci... You feel yourself falling for her... It feels so good...You are coming to love her...more with every passing minute... You love being with her...and looking at her... You’d love to touch her...and hold her... You’d love to kiss her. You’d love it if she kissed you... You want het to kiss you...

“Traci would make a perfect girlfriend for you... She should be your pretty girlfriend...your lesbian girlfriend...your sexy lover... You want to see her again...and be with her...again and again... You want to hold her hand...and take her in your arms...and look in her eyes... You want to tell her you love her... You want to have lesbian sex with Traci... You want her to love you... You want her to fall in love with you... You’ll do anything to win her heart... You want her to desire you... You’ll be sexy for her... You’d be slutty for her... You want her to think you’re sexy...You are falling in love with Traci...tonight...”

“You’re all dressed up to go dreaming.

Now don’t tell me I’m wrong.

And what a night to go dreaming.

Mind if I tag along?

“If I say, ‘I love you’,

I want you to know

It’s not just because there’s moonlight,

Although moonlight becomes you so.”

“You love looking at sexy girls... You love being with beautiful women... You love dating women... You are a lesbian girl... You should have girlfriends...sexy, lesbian girlfriends... You want beautiful girls and women as your girlfriends... You want to be beautiful and sexy for girls... You want them to desire you...romantically and sexually... You want to date women... Sex between women is wonderful... You crave sex with pretty, sexy women and girls...

“You are a sexy lesbian who loves pretty women and girls... You love their luscious pussies... You want to taste delicious pussy and to be fucked by women...Women being attracted to each other and falling in love with each other and having lesbian sex is beautiful and natural...You are in love with Traci... You want sex with Traci, with her daughter, with Regina, with your roommates, with your mother, with your sister...”

“You’re all dressed up to go dreaming.

Now don’t tell me I’m wrong.

And what a night to go dreaming.

Mind if I tag along?

“Claire, you will dream of the girls and the women you love... tonight and many more nights...every night...sexy girls...sexy dreams...dirty dreams... You will dream of Traci...the beautiful woman you love... Dream of kissing her... being in love with her... making love to her... You want to dream of Traci... Your dreams will be filled with her...of you being girlfriends...and falling in love...and having sex...of seeing her pussy...of kissing her pussy...of tasting and licking and loving her sweet, juicy, pretty pussy... You love the pussies of beautiful women and girls, and such will fill your dreams...

“You’ll dream of meeting Traci’s daughter... and becoming friends... and lovers... She should be your girlfriend... your lesbian girlfriend...

“You’ll dream of being a lesbian... and having many lesbian girlfriends...just like you want to... You’ll dream of Wendy...and your mother... and having lesbian sex with them...incestuous sex...so naughty...so nice... And Regina... Dream of her... Dream of her beautiful body...of dating her...of kissing her... Dream of your roommates...sexy, dirty dreams...

“Dream of dying your hair blonde...of being a pretty, free, sexy blonde lesbian girl...so free...so lesbian...so blonde...so sexy...so desired...so slutty...so happy... You want to be a blonde... You want to look like Traci... You love how blonde she is... Your dream is to go blonde...and be sexy...and be a lesbian...and make Traci fall for you as much as you are falling for her... Let her know how you feel... Kiss her...Tell her...You love Traci...

“If I say, ‘I love you’,

I want you to know

It’s not just because there’s moonlight,

Although moonlight becomes you so.”

“Traci is beautiful...You can’t resist her... You don’t want to resist her... You belong together...as girlfriends...as lovers...You belong in her arms...You belong together... You must see Traci again... She looks so beautiful... She turns you on... You love Traci...”

Being early March, it was fully dark by the time they pulled into the parking lot of Claire’s dorms a little past 7:30pm. Traci parked the car, turned off the engine and the CD, and addressed Claire.

“Claire...Claire...we’re here...” It took a few seconds for Claire to snap out of it.

“Oh, my! That was a great CD. I think I lost myself in it!” She turned to look at Traci, and was stunned momentarily by how utterly beautiful Traci seemed to her. A feeling of overwhelming love for this spectacular woman next to her seemed to flood over her. Was it the moonlight? Or...or what was it? Traci was just so...so...wonderful...

As Claire looked at Traci, she noticed Traci’s lips. They were colored a metallic silver with a blush of lavender-pink, which the moonlight coming into the car seemed to make glow with an almost mystical sheen. Claire couldn’t remember the woman’s lips being painted with the magical tint earlier. Or had she just missed it? In any case, Traci looked spectacular.

More than that, Traci was simply…utterly…..….kissable...

Claire was unaware that while she was occupied listening to the CD on the drive, Traci had applied the alluring lipstick at a stoplight, along with a few dabs of some heady perfume.

The words Claire had just heard on the CD sung through her mind again, seeming so applicable to the moment.

“If I say, ‘I love you’,

I want you to know

It’s not just because there’s moonlight,

Although moonlight becomes you so.”

Realizing she was staring and getting emotional, for some reason, Claire forced herself to look away. It must be those songs. They were so...so... She wanted to say “romantic” to herself, but knew that couldn’t fit her current situation, with a woman, so she left the thought uncompleted.

After what Traci was doing to her tonight, and, along with Regina, had done to her over the day, Claire would never feel the same about sensual love as she had but a day before. She would find it very difficult to think of romance in terms of a guy, but easy to do so when it came to pretty women and girls. Romantic sentiments and situations would, from now on, always conjure within her the impression of enticing femininity and would be intertwined in her feelings with the beauty and the company of alluring women.

Women such as Traci.

“So...I guess I better go...” Claire reached for the door handle.

“Wait, Claire. Don’t go yet.”

Claire perceived something in the air between them, something exciting, something familiar, something she had experienced to some degree somewhere, sometime before with someone else, something she liked, but something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Unrecognized by her, it was the same general type of atmosphere she had experienced when she had gone out with her boyfriend in high school. It was the atmosphere of a date, a date coming to a close, a time of two young people sitting in a dark car for a last round of conversation, perhaps reluctant to part, with questions hanging in the air—When would they see each other again? Would there be another date? Would there be a good-night kiss? Would it be on the doorstep? Would it be in the car, and would it evolve into making out?

The tension in the air was distinctively romantic and sexual. Claire didn’t recognize it as such, but she nevertheless was feeling like she was on a date. Except this time, it was with a woman. And the feelings of affection, arousal, excitement, and anticipation were much keener and much sweeter than she had ever felt with a guy.

Claire let go of the handle, subconsciously relieved that she didn’t have to part with Traci quite yet. She turned again to face her wondrous moonlit companion.

“Oh, sure, Traci. Was there something...?”

“Claire, I would like to see you again.”

Traci paused to allow the possible implications of that statement to sink in, and to let it play on Claire’s emotions.

Claire’s heart started to beat faster. She hadn’t heard Traci’s reason yet—maybe she didn’t have one other than just wanting to be together. As friends, of course. But that would be fine, as she had come to regard this blonde as a friend in the short space of two days. In any case, she was feeling quite happy, for some reason, with the direction Traci was taking, for, now that Traci had brought it up, Claire knew she was equally interested in seeing Traci again.

“Would that be okay?”

“Oh...well, yes... I’d like that...”

“I feel you and I have, for some reason, just hit it off fast, and that we’re almost old friends by now. You know?”

“Yeah, I do know what you mean. It seems like we’ve already gone through a lot together.”

“Maybe...maybe you’d like to come over for dinner sometime...”

“Okay... That’d be great.”

“You know, I have a daughter, too. Here, let me show you.”

Traci pulled out her large-display smartphone and summoned some photos. While she did, Claire took the opportunity to let her eyes rove over Traci some more. She took a slight intake of breath when she fully realized the top several buttons of Traci’s white satin blouse were now unfastened, showing the generous swell of one of Traci’s breasts and much of the transparent, lacy white bra cup holding it.

Finally managing to tear her eyes away from that breathtaking scene, she looked down at Traci’s purple skirt. It had risen a few inches above her knees and her thighs were somewhat spread, giving Claire a delicious view of Traci’s slim, black-nylon-covered legs. Claire also looked down at her own lap and saw that her own skirt had worked higher on her legs than she considered modest, but, she figured, since Traci was in the same state, she wouldn’t need to be worried about pulling her own skirt down. They were just two women, after all.

Traci leaned over to get closer to Claire to show her the phone. As she did, her blouse gapped open further. It was with great difficulty that Claire turned her attention to Traci’s phone.

“So...this is Natasha... She’s 18... planning on graduating from high school.”

In sequence, Traci pulled up two images of the same photo, the first a full-body shot and the second a close-up from the waist up. The girl in the photo wore a thin, hot-pink satin cropped chemise top with spaghetti straps, a black leather miniskirt, and silver high-heeled sandals. Her long, loose, medium-dark brown hair, which displayed the richness and sheen of a piece of fine, expensive milk chocolate, was pulled to the front over one shoulder, and she wore fuchsia lipstick and nails and dangling silver earrings. The top exposed her midriff and the small silver jewelry dangling from her naval piercing. Her visibly prominent nipples poked blatantly into the satin, revealing the obvious lack of a bra underneath.

Wow... She’s cute...really cute!

“Traci, what a pretty daughter you have!”

“Thank you. I think so, too. Here she is again. We have a swimming pool.”

This time both Traci and Natasha were in swimsuits standing next to a pool, arms around each other. The pose was almost intimate, considering their hands were resting on each other’s bare waists and hips, almost on derrieres, but it was the suits that made Claire’s eye pop. They were identical, both the briefest micro suits in some thin, highly reflective or metallic silver material—which reminded Claire momentarily of Traci’s lips, and she glanced at them again—of a suspender design, in the front coming up between their thighs to barely hide their female mounds, then rising in narrow straps over the breasts, covering little more than the nipples, to tie halter-style behind their necks, and leaving their backsides essentially naked, which could be glimpsed as Traci was half-way turned toward Natasha, looking into her face. The lush, exposed, tanned bodies of the two called to Claire, demanding her attention. Claire felt her pulse accelerate.

“Wow...That’s...that’s a nice pool...”

“Yeah, we enjoy it. Maybe you’d like to come swim sometime.”

The possibility of lounging about and swimming with these two, especially attired like they were in the photo, was difficult to fathom, but there was something about the invitation that was highly exciting.

“Yeah... That’d be fun...”

Traci showed Claire several more photos. The fifth one to come up was of a brunette woman with a girl who appeared to be around fourteen. Both were in modest dresses, wore no make-up, and stood together in a conventional pose in front of what appeared to be a church. Looking closely at the girl, Claire recognized her as a younger version of Natasha. Then it dawned on her—the woman must be Traci. A brunette Traci, her hair the same chocolaty shade as her daughter’s. Claire found that highly intriguing, without knowing why.

“Traci...is that...is that you?”

“Yes. That was taken a couple of years ago...back in the ‘bad old days’.”

“Do you say that because you were married to your husband then? Or because you had brown hair?”

“Both.”

“Oh......... Well, you looked good like this, too.” But not nearly as good as you look now.

“That’s okay, honey. You don’t have to be nice. Don’t you think I look better now?”

The moonlight flooding into the car seemed to make Traci’s pale platinum hair look like burnished silver, flowing around her face and neck and shoulders like shiny molten precious metal. It was almost a match to her silvery lips and the white satin of her blouse. Traci was supernatural.

“Well...to be honest...yes... You look beautiful as a blonde.” Claire found herself gushing, almost, and tried to rein it in. “I mean, uh... You look great.”

“Why, thank you, kind miss.” Traci placed her hand on Claire’s uncovered knee, as if to underline her gratitude. Missed by Claire’s mind but not her emotions was the fact that Traci’s words and touch were flirtations, a lesbian equivalent to the “Thank you, kind sir” which a coy straight woman would say to a man who had just complimented her, to encourage his interest.

“Why...why did you do it?”

“Why not? No reason not to...and every reason to do it. Some years ago, there used to be a Clairol hair color commercial. It went, ‘If I only have one life...let me live it as a blonde!’ I tried it and have never regretted it. I can honestly say from personal experience, ‘It’s true blondes have more fun!’

“How about you, Claire? Have you ever thought about going blonde yourself?”

“Oh, me? Well...”

She had, of course, come close to doing it, when she graduated from high school, but had held back when she decided that such a dramatic change would be too much at odds with the natural approach to appearance advocated by her mother, and, too, her nerve had simply failed her. Little did Claire suspect, however, that, under bombardment by subliminals and temptations that had been and would be directed at her, her conservative, restrained nature would soon start to crumble, or, more accurately, already had started to deteriorate, and a wild, uninhibited girl would be unleashed within her.

So, now that Traci was bringing it up, Claire’s fascination with seeing herself with blonde hair seemed to be stronger than ever before. At this moment, it was as if some curiosity, some drive, some sensual and even erotic desire deep within was insistently pulling on her to lighten her hair. The issue now seemed to be an emotional and sexual one, which Claire found odd, as the urge hadn’t been quite so compelling or had an erotic feeling about it ever before.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, Claire. You have wondered. You are intrigued. And I don’t blame you. You’d love being blonde. You would be so utterly sexy!”

That remark rang some kind of bell within Claire. Sexy... yes... I’d look sexy... I’d like that...

“Everyone would love you better as a blonde. Your roommates…your mother…your sister...” It didn’t register on Claire that Traci seemed to know personal information about her which she shouldn’t; Claire only processed the idea that her friends and family would be unanimously in favor of her changing her hair color.

“…I know Regina for sure would love it…”

Really?

That particularly fired Claire’s imagination. She pictured herself with a pleased Regina…hugging again…this time longer…because Regina liked her more…loved her more……… Maybe she would call Regina, now having an excuse to see her again. Hi Regina…I…I have made a little change… I wonder if you’d like to see me… We could get together...

“…and me. I’d love you as a beautiful and sexy blonde girl.” That sent a tingle up Claire’s spine. Especially the way Traci emphasized the phrase “I’d love you...”.

As Claire weighed Traci’s opinions, she knew they might be a little inflated, but she also decided that they were also, nevertheless, fundamentally quite true. She was secretly delighted to hear that Traci wanted to see her go blonde and would like her more if she did, and that she seemed to speak for Regina in the matter, as well, and maybe even for her family and friends.

A thought as if from nowhere particular floated through her mind. I am a good girl... A good girl is a blonde girl... a free and easy blonde girl...a sexy girl... I want to be a good girl...a blonde girl... a... There was another word that seemed to go with the concept of blondness, something that started with an “l”, but it just wouldn’t come forth.

She’d love me to go blonde…....... Traci’s right... I would love to be a blonde...

It sounded like an easy decision.

Yet, still...it was a big step... I’m not sure I’m ready for it…yet... In that moment, Claire knew it was no longer a matter of “if”, but only of “when”.

“Yes, Traci, I will admit to having thought about it. It does really intrigue me. I think you’re right, I’d look great...”

“And you’d feel great, too. Believe me, I know. Do you ever want to feel sexy, Claire?“

“Yes.” The answer came immediately, without thought or hesitation. Of course I do................ Wait...What am I thinking?........I shouldn’t want to be “sexy”...not exactly............ I don’t want to be a slut............. But...“sexy”...that’s not quite the same thing, is it?... That’s not really so bad............. In fact...I guess there are some nice girls who are “sexy”, too......... Traci is.............Well... maybe it’d be OK...or even pretty nice... sometimes....to be kind of...kind of “sexy”......

“I mean...well...yes...I guess...”

“Every girl wants to feel sexy and look sexy and be sexy, Claire. You, too. And you would as a blonde. I do. I am.” It was not stated as a brag, but merely as an obviously true fact.

Yes... It definitely works for her...big time...

Traci reached up and stroked Claire’s cheek with the back of her fingers, then ran a polished, long fingernail down the side of Claire’s face to her jaw, as if to underline the sincerity of her remark. Claire sat enraptured, gazing into Traci’s pretty eyes, spellbound by the touch, by the compliment—which made Claire want to be even prettier for her new friend—by Traci’s beauty, her sensuality, her perfume, her proximity, and her affection, by the charge in the air, and by the subliminals.

“Well, anyway, it’s just something to think about. Okay, pretty girl?... Here, let’s look at some more photos.” Traci tossed her head slightly as her long-nailed fingers flirtatiously swept some of her glossy hair over a shoulder and then played with a few leftover strands.

The rest of the photos were mainly of Natasha, but also there were some of Traci alone and others of the two together. Most of the rest of the photos depicted them in normal clothes, but a couple of them showed them in skimpy lingerie—“Just getting ready for bed,” Traci explained—and a few showed them in more embraces which seemed a little inappropriate for a mother and daughter—“We are cuddly, is all,” was the reason—and one caught them both wearing fire-engine red lipstick giving each other a kiss on the lips. “Oh, you know, we were just playing around. We do that.”

Claire noticed that, as she went from one photo to another, she was in a kind of oddly excited state, with heavy breathing, sweaty palms, and eager anticipation of each succeeding photo. Oh well, I’ve had a long day. I must be tired.

All the while, Traci had been leaning closer to Claire, presumably to better show her the photos. The entirety of one of Traci’s incredibly-filled bra cups was now on display—as if another button had somehow worked itself loose—and Traci’s inviting mouth was mere inches from Claire’s. Traci’s wonderful perfume filled the car and clouded Claire’s mind. Claire found herself leaning into Traci, as well, drawn as if by a tractor beam. Their heads glided together side-to-side, cheek touching cheek, dark and fair hair mingling, trapped silkily between the sides of their faces, to finish viewing the photos. The contact was at once stupendously nice as well as natural and comfortable.

At length, Traci backed off some, but only a few inches. “Well, that’s it.” She curled some of her pretty hair delicately off her face behind an ear. “What do you think of Natasha?”

“Wow... She’s quite a girl...” Like her mom.

“Would you like to meet her?”

“Yes!” The answer was too quick, too effusive. “I mean…yes, of course. I’d love to meet Natasha.”

“Great. I’ll make sure she’s there when we have dinner. Maybe we could play some games, too. Maybe even watch a movie. Have a nice little girls’ night in. Would you like that?”

“Yes, that sounds like a lot of fun.”

“It will be. If you wanted to, we could even do an old-fashioned slumber party. If not this time, then another time.”

“Wow, you have a lot of good ideas, Traci. Yeah, that might be fun.”

“Claire, I have to admit, I have a little bit of an ulterior motive. My Natasha, she’s an only child. She’s been alone and by herself much of the time while she’s been growing up, and then, while she doesn’t talk about it much, I’m sure that my divorce from her pig of a father really affected her. I know she wants a complete family again. I read some of your file when I was helping Regina set up the sponsorship program and I saw that you volunteer some of your personal time helping less fortunate children at the local youth center. I would love it if you could do the same for my Natasha. If you could become something of a big sister for her... She’s never had a big sister, and she’s always wanted one. I think you would be perfect...”

“Oh, Traci, I’d love to be your daughter’s big sister! I have experience at it too, you know. I have my own little sister at home. Now I can have one away from home, too.”

“I really appreciate your willingness. I know you’re busy with your classes. You wouldn’t have to do a lot. Just give her some attention. Maybe go some places with her sometimes. Like shopping. Maybe a movie. Or something else fun. You know, a ‘girls date’. I’d pay, of course...”

That word—“date”—grabbed Claire’s attention. She understood that Traci meant, of course, two girls hanging out, having fun together, nothing more. But the word sounded like just the right word, anyway. Why not? It was a very good and nice word for two young ladies spending time together. Claire liked it. Yes...she and Traci’s daughter could do that...

“You could give her tips on doing her hair...how to get into college...stuff like that...maybe occasionally help her with her homework. You know, she has an American Government class right now. With your major in political science, I bet she’d love to get some tutoring help from you.”

“Oh, that’s so perfect! I was wondering how I was going to pay you back for all you’ve done for me, and maybe this can help ease the debt a little.”

“No, don’t think of it like that, Claire. You don’t owe me anything. Think of it as one friend doing something for another friend, because they like each other.” Traci paused, gazing into Claire’s eyes, sending little chills up her body, which Claire could not explain. “You’re going to love my Natasha...and she’s really going to love you!”

Somehow, Claire knew that was true. They were all going to get along peachy. Spending time with these two pretty females looked like it was going to be a lot of fun. No, more than that—it was going to be great...and exciting...and wonderful. She didn’t know how she knew that, she just did. In fact, even just one more hour with Traci would be all that...

“Okay, then, it’s set. Dinner, at least, and maybe more.”

Claire couldn’t help but wonder what Traci would be wearing the next time they would meet. Would it be the blue sundress again? That thought made her pulse skip a beat, but that didn’t register on her consciously. Or would it be what she was wearing now, which had grown on Claire tremendously since the morning? Or...... The photos she had seen just minutes before of Traci in racy nightwear and swimwear flashed into her head, with a shocking impact. Claire blushed.

“The only question is exactly when. I’ll have to talk to Natasha and see when she’s free. You know, school activities and all that. Then I’ll call you. What’s your phone number, doll?”

Claire told her as Traci entered it into her phone. “Okay... Here, let me give you mine, too.” Claire fished into her bag, retrieved her phone, and entered Traci’s number.

“Claire, you can call me any time, you know. About anything. If you have any questions about the program, or if you just want some company and need someone to hang out with, or you want to talk about anything else. I’d like to be your friend.”

“Traci, that’s really nice of you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, sweetie. Now, why don’t we get you into your dorm? Here, let me walk you to the door. I don’t want anyone mugging you!”

“Oh, that’s okay, Traci. No one’s going to mug me. You don’t...”

“I insist. Let’s go.” Claire was pleased Traci had insisted, so they could spend another minute together. She really liked this lovely woman.

They walked across the parking lot, the crisp air of this early spring night refreshing their faces and chilling their bodies slightly. They strode more closely together than they might have on a warmer evening, as if by unspoken mutual agreement to savor the heat of the other’s body. The sound of the wind gently rustling the leaves of the nearby tress and the silvery light of the half moon in the starry, black sky added to the mystically enchanted atmosphere which bathed the two. Their pace was leisurely, neither in a hurry to end their stroll together sooner than necessary.

Claire glanced up at the windows of her apartment but saw no lights on, suggesting no one was home She found that odd, as normally at least someone was home at this time of the evening, around 8pm. The thought passed through her mind that, as long as Traci was walking her to her door, and there was no one else in the apartment, she should invite her in. Maybe they could get to know each other better over a cup of hot chocolate. Then she thought better of it, as it had been a long day for Traci and she probably wanted to get home and rest. Maybe another time...

As they approached the entrance to Claire’s building, Traci stopped, said, “What’s that?", bent down, and appeared to pick up something from the ground, something she had secretly brought from her car and concealed as they walked. She arose holding a sealed, unmarked, padded 6″×8″ manila envelope, about an inch thick. “Looks like someone dropped something.”

Traci handed the package to Claire. She immediately had an inkling of what lay in the envelope, as her family had ordered DVDs in the past and, when they arrived, they had been in a package about this size and weight. “Hmm. I bet it’s a DVD or two someone here must have lost.” It was too dark in the parking lot where they stood to bother trying to remove them to see what they were. “When I get to my room, I’ll see what they are, and if they look valuable I’ll post a ‘lost and found’ card on the bulletin board in the lobby of our dorm building.” She slipped the package into her bag.

“Good plan.” Traci smiled to herself.

They resumed the short remainder of their walk until they arrived at the outer door to Claire’s building.

“Well, this is it,” Claire said. She sounded a little nervous to herself, and wondered why. “Traci, thank you so much for everything. You have been such a great help.”

Traci responded in a soft voice, which seemed to Clair to have a tinge of emotion. “My pleasure, sweetheart. I really enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you today.”

“Me too. Very much.” Acting on raw impulse and surprising herself as much as she appeared to surprise Traci, Claire took Traci lightly in her arms and kissed her on the cheek. Taking a step back, she added, “Thanks again.”

“I like you, Claire.” Traci took both of Claire’s hands in hers. Traci’s pale, silvery, magical hair glowed in the moonlight. Her silvered lips seemed to shine even more, like a beacon in the night, beckoning.

“A lot. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

Traci leaned forward to place a reciprocal kiss on Claire’s cheek with her pink-silver mouth, but at the last second she seemed to “miss” and met Claire’s lips with her own. Her kiss lingered a second longer than Claire’s had.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Claire was speechless as Traci turned and walked away. Traci was still within hearing distance by the time Claire recovered. “Bye, Traci,” she called. “See you!” Traci turned around, smiled, and waved, then continued her walk to her car as Claire watched her. At last, Claire opened the door to her building and went in.

As Claire entered the hallways of her building and made her way to her apartment, her mood was buoyant. She reflected on the successes of the day and on the friends she had made, particularly the one who had driven her home, walked her to her door—and kissed her.

That was so very nice of Traci, She is so sweet. She went out of her way to help me and make me feel comfortable. I’m glad I have some way of paying her back, a little. I already feel like we’re best friends. Some people just seem to click, I guess...

She thought about that wonderful, surprising kiss. It had been ambiguous enough that Claire was unsure whether it had intentionally been placed on her mouth or whether Traci had been aiming for her cheek and, in the dark night, couldn’t see well enough and had simply missed.

After a second of debating, Claire concluded the most likely explanation was the latter and that, either way, it had been a sweet and affectionate thing for Traci to do, and Claire had definitely enjoyed it. She had never experienced anything quite like it…those soft, wet, full, creamy, silvery, painted, perfumed lips…meeting hers with an unexpected slickness, warmth, and deliciousness… Traci’s proximity…Traci’s hands, holding her own…the warmth of her face, and her body, the silkiness of her hair, her perfume, enveloping them both…

Claire paused for a second in the hallway, touching her fingers to her mouth. It was almost as if she could still feel the kiss. Perhaps some of Traci’s lipstick was still on her mouth. She looked at her fingers. The trace was difficult to see in the relatively dim light of the hall, but, yes, there was some of that silvery pigment. Inexplicably, that delighted her.

Next time, maybe I’ll “miss”, too...

She continued down the hall. As she was fast approaching her apartment door, Claire did not have a chance to analyze her feelings about what had just happened beyond that, but, unrecognized by her conscious mind, she was now looking forward to her next encounter with Traci Hartwood twice as much as she had been five minutes before, and that had already been a very acute level of anticipation.

Claire was preoccupied with thoughts of Traci and of the events of the day as she unlocked the door to her apartment. The moment she opened the door and walked in, she heard the flip of a light switch.

“Surprise!” Standing in front of her were her roommates, with small party hats on their heads and Meredith holding a small tray of cupcakes.

“Congratulations, Clairebear!” squealed Jessica, as she gave her roommate a hug.

“Oh, my god! You guys! You really didn’t have to do this!”

“We’re friends. It’s what we do for each other,” smiled Jessica.

Appreciating the gesture her friends had made, Claire gave each of her roommates a hug. Without realizing it, with each hug she pressed her body against the other girl’s a little harder and a bit longer then she normally would have thought necessary or appropriate. Jessica, Monica, and Meredith noticed it, but dismissed the extra physical affection as a result of Claire being particularly hyper because of the events of the day.

“Come on, Claire, spill. So, did you get it or not?” inquired Monica.

“Of course she got it. They’d have to be crazy to pass Claire up,” Meredith chimed in.

Claire, with an ecstatic grin on her face, simply waved the manila envelope in front of her roommates. All of them squealed and danced with joy. “That is so awesome, Claire,” Meredith bubbled.

After the prevailing giddiness subsided some, they settled into the living room, where Claire filled her friends in on the details of her new sponsorship program.

“So who’s your sponsor?” asked Jessica.

Claire had completely forgotten the name of the generous woman who Regina had said would sponsor her. Slightly embarrassed, she opened the manila envelope, put it over the coffee table, and shook out its contents, which consisted of some papers and a DVD. Claire found the woman’s name on the cover page.

“Mrs. Serena Powers.” Saying the name caused Claire to feel a twinge of unexpected excitement. She didn’t know why, but that name made her feel good. She spaced out for a moment, wrapped up in the enjoyment.

“Come on, Claire, don’t keep us waiting. Tell us more about Mrs. Serena Powers.”

Monica had an ulterior motive for asking. Plans had quickly started to spin in her head about meeting this Mrs. Powers through Claire. Any person who could cover a student’s tuition at Preston University and not bat an eye at its cost was someone who might be able and willing to help advance Monica’s own future, as well.

“Well,” Claire spoke as she scanned the sheet of paper in her hand, “lets see... Mrs. Powers is CEO of Hecate Pharmaceutical Corporation… Oh!” Claire was mildly shocked to see the name Hecate on the paper.

“Something wrong, Claire?” queried Jessica, noticing the surprised look on Claire’s face.

“Well, it’s just… I’m just kind of shocked. I mean, Hecate Pharmaceutical operates from my home city. Of all the people that I could have gotten to sponsor me, it’s someone from my home city. You know?”

“Yeah, that’s funny,” Monica agreed. Then in a reassuring tone, she added, “But, you know, maybe you shouldn’t be that surprised. I’ll bet this Mrs. Powers noticed the connection she had with you, being from the same city and all that, and probably wanted to help a local girl reach her dreams. Sometimes it’s the connections you have that allow you to advance in life, more than your talents.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense......... But on the other hand, my major is political science. Wouldn’t a pharmaceutical company be more interested in a person with a major in biochemistry or something?”

“Well, you are studying to become a lawyer, Claire, and maybe Ms. Burke picked up on that and told your sponsor about it,” Meredith chimed in.

“And how does that translate into Claire’s sponsor being interested in her?” interrupted Monica.

“Well, if you let me finish, pharmaceutical companies are always getting sued. You hear about it in the news all the time. They must have a ton of legal work to defend themselves, not to mention all the mergers that go on, and the tax and regulation issues they have to deal with. You’d think a big drug company would have to have a bunch of sharp lawyers.”

“I guess that makes sense.” There was a sound of some disappointment in Claire’s voice. Her vision for herself as a future lawyer had always been one of fighting against big, bad companies that were abusing the innocent and the helpless. But now...now this revelation identifying for her who her future employer would be, at least for the first part of her career, more or less ensured that she would be representing the interests of a big company rather than those of the little guy.

However, she thought, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad in this case. Hecate wasn’t an evil company, as far as she knew. The company was a fixture of goodwill and one of the premiere companies to work for in her home city. The people she knew who worked for them normally had only good things to say and appreciated having their jobs. Plus, she recalled having heard of several times that Hecate had given generously to the city and various of its entities and had hosted charity events for schools, parks, and community services.

Just because they’re a large company doesn’t mean they’re inherently evil. Claire mentally scolded herself for jumping to such a baseless conclusion, especially when one of Hecate’s top executives was offering to help her in her time of need.

“Well, come on, Clairebear, how about finishing the rest of that report,” said Jessica.

“Oh, right. Alright, let’s see…… Mrs. Powers is also on the board of directors for a few other companies…and has what looks like mostly small roles in some others. She’s… let’s see…she’s involved with an electronics company in California, a cosmetics company in Germany, a software company in France, and some kind of international food producer based in Japan…”

“That’s one awesome resume.”

“Let her finish.”

“Well, yeah, there’s more… She involves herself in projects that protect and promote the environment... Looks like she’s a philanthropist when it comes to women’s rights and equality… Recently she’s been promoting fair treatment and equal rights for the LGBT community in the workplace and in the legal system… And…and, wow, she also does lecture tours every now and then. She sounds pretty amazing, doesn’t she?” Picking up the DVD, Claire added, “I guess this is one of her lectures.”

“Come on, let’s pop it in and see what she looks like!” exclaimed Monica.

“Oh my god, are you going fangirl over Mrs. Powers?” Meredith said in a mocking tone.

“Whatever, nerd girl. I just want to see what she’s all about. At least my role models are real people instead of make-believe fakes,” snapped Monica.

“Girls,” interrupted Jessica while casting a glare at both Monica and Meredith. Both of them became quiet and ceased the conversation before it escalated to something else. Neither wanted to ruin Claire’s little celebration.

Walking over to Claire, Jessica asked for the DVD and then went over to the player to pop it in. Jessica had to get on her knees and bend over to place the DVD inside the player. Claire took immediate notice of this without thinking, and couldn’t help but stare at Jessica’s firm butt. The tight, shiny nylon gym shorts which Jessica wore seemed to mold around her butt’s curves and into her crevice, and clearly revealed the lines of her panties underneath. The sight was far too much to resist. And then…there were those long, smooth, slim, athletic legs…

Jessica takes great care of her body... so fit... so tight... so nicely curved... She’s such a beautiful girl... and a dear friend, too... so supportive......... I’d like to be closer to her............ I think I should take her out... like, on a girls’ night out…when I get the chance…to pay her back for the support she’s given me... Just me and her... Maybe she’d like that, too...

Claire remembered she had made a similar decision that morning vis a vis Monica. Oh, yeah... Monica, too...for lending me her nice suit... I owe her......... We’ll have a good time somewhere...by ourselves............ And I can’t leave Meredith out, either... That wouldn’t be fair... What a cute girl... I’m glad we have become friends... It’s time to get to know her better, too. We need to spend some time alone, away from the others, as well... What a doll she is... I’ll do something fun with her, too...

For a moment, Claire’s decision to date her roommates—although she would not have called it that, at least not quite yet—seemed strange to her. “Going out” with girls was something she had never done before and wasn’t aware of other co-eds doing, either, not exactly like the way she envisioned it. But then that doubt was quickly displaced by a confidence within her that girls should “go out” with girls, or whatever is was that she was intending to do. It was, after all, just two girls spending time together, getting to know each other better, a creative way to show how much they care for each other, an opportunity to show appreciation and love. There was nothing unusual about that. There would be no problem.

The word “date” did finally cross her mind, as the phrase “girls should date girls” ran faintly across the back of her mind a few times. It rang true and did seem somehow to fit the forms of socializing starting to coalesce in her imagination, but Claire knew it would seem a little weird to use that word or even think it when it came to going out with girls, so she suppressed it. For now, she would call it simply “going out”, as in “going out for a night on the town”.

Claire let the concept bounce around in her head some more. Now that she thought about it, yes, other girls did go places and hang out together. Not all girls, but some did. She hadn’t done it, but this was as good a time to start as any. Now that the idea had come to her, she felt it was a wonderful concept and she briefly wondered why she had never thought about doing it before, and why it wasn’t done more commonly among girls.

Claire snapped back to reality when Jessica stood back up. Nevertheless, Claire’s eyes followed the athletic brunette as Jessica walked back to her seat and sat down, scanning the shifting curves of Jessica’s torso as she moved. It seemed to require some willpower to cease her inspection, but she did finally look away when Jessica grabbed the remote to start the DVD and Claire remembered she had something she could contribute to this little party.

“Wait. Don’t start it yet. Let me get something for us first.” Claire went to the kitchen area where she had left the box of chocolates that Regina had given her. Grabbing it, she returned to the common area.

“I have some goodies for you!” Claire announced melodically as she passed out a piece of chocolate to everyone. “Regina gave me these. Nice of her, huh?” She placed the box containing the remaining pieces on the coffee table.

“Sure was. They look kind of fancy,” observed Monica.

“She said they were imported. She didn’t have to do this. Regina’s such a nice lady.” Claire paused as an image of her beautiful benefactress passed across her mind. Her pulse rate increased a little and she let out an imperceptible sigh. “Anyway, I might as well share the wealth with my bestest buddies!”

“Thanks, Claire!” smiled Jessica.

“Yeah, thanks,” added Meredith. “That’s so nice of you to share.”

Monica was the first to bite into one. “Mmmm… these are good!”

Claire agreed, “Yeah, mine’s yummy too!”

“Normally, I’m not a fan of sweets, Clairebear, but I got to admit that these are good,” added Jessica.

“Wow, this one feels all creamy in my mouth,” Meredith enthused. “Maybe you can score another box for us, Claire.”

“I can ask Regina to see where she got them.”

Little did any of these cute, exuberant, and heterosexual coeds—heterosexual, that is, before this fateful day—suspect that the chocolates they were enjoying so much contained a chemical compound which induced a highly receptive hypnotic state and that the DVD was loaded with subliminal messages.

Regina had not particularly intended that anyone other than Claire would be subjected to the effects of the chocolates and the DVD, but neither would she have minded in the least if other pretty girls were drawn in with her, which was exactly what was now happening. Claire was oblivious to the new sexual direction Regina’s intrigues over the afternoon had embedded into her, and now she was unwittingly luring her best friends onto the same seductive Sapphic path.

Jessica started the DVD, and everyone turned their attention to the TV. On the screen a blonde woman walked up to a podium set on a stage in a large auditorium. At first the perspective was distant, as if filmed from the back of the hall, but it steadily zoomed in. The first thing to be plainly seen, as the woman walked across the stage and settled behind the podium, which was actually a stand consisting of a pole supporting a small desktop and which permitted a relatively unobstructed view of the speaker behind it, was that this was a woman with a regal bearing and a commanding presence, leaving Claire and the others with the impression, correctly so, that this had to be Serena Powers.

The camera continued to zoom in until details of the woman’s appearance became clear. Her beauty immediately arrested all four girls. Claire, in fact, was overwhelmed by it, feeling herself inexplicably flushed, paralyzed, and dizzy for a few moments, with a sudden, subtle tightening in her nipples and quaking between her legs, until she regained some semblance of control.

Mrs. Powers was dressed in a crimson red business suit, which, while not so tight as to seem risqué, nevertheless was figure-hugging enough and cut and tailored just right to clearly show off her sexy body. Its color contrasted with the black curtains behind her, making her stand out and inducing her viewers to fixate on her all the more. Her dazzling, waist-long, ultra-pale pearl-blonde hair was contained in a smart, neat, high bun with her bangs slightly curled in and her model-perfect face was coated attractively with a professional-looking application of make-up. Claire found herself focusing particularly on Mrs. Powers’ bright red lips. The brilliant lipstick was marvelous on those lovely lips and on that beautiful face, Clair thought. Mrs. Powers looked wonderful.

Claire was blissfully unaware of the fact that the mind control machine at the Center had programmed her to develop a crush for Serena Powers the moment Claire saw her for the first time. That was precisely what was now happening, even though the beauty had not yet spoken.

Soon, the embedded subliminal messages in the DVD began to play.

“You desire sexy, beautiful women.

“You want to have sex with beautiful women.

“Being around sexy, beautiful women arouses you.

“You desire to become a lesbian.

“Serena Powers is the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Serena Powers is your Goddess.

“You wish to serve and obey your Goddess.

The hidden audio track, featuring the preceding and other messages of a similar tenor, would play throughout the video and bombard its viewers with a barrage of penetrating Sapphic suggestions.

Claire, feeling a sweet euphoria, which she attributed to the blessings of the day—taking and apparently passing her “application test”, finding a savior, getting to know beautiful Traci, seeing the incredible Regina again, meeting the fetching Asian girl, Abby, spending time with her pretty roommates, and now seeing the marvelous Mrs. Serena Powers for the first time—felt to offer a silent prayer.

Oh, dear Goddess... She paused, catching what at first seemed to be an error in the gender of her salutation. But her mind quickly reconsidered. A female God was perfectly fine, too. Why not? Why did God have to be male? In fact, a female God made more sense than a male one right now, somehow. Yes...

Dear Goddess—I thank thee for thy help this day. May I prove worthy of thy grace. Please continue to guide and bless me. Amen.

In the video playing on the TV, Serena Powers set her notes on the podium, tapped on the microphone, presumably to ensure that it was working, and cleared her throat.

“Hello. My name is Serena Powers.” A thrill ran through Claire. “I would like to welcome everyone here to the first day of their new life.”