The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Caddie was lying on her bed, a blanket of swimsuits and pantyhose covering her body. Her eyes were wide open; she thrashed around on her bed, moving from side to side and angrily kicking away any swimsuit or nylon that tangled around her feet. She felt utterly tired, yet couldn’t sleep. How was it that the last couple of extenuating hours didn’t tire her enough for sleep? Why was she feeling so guilty?

She moved to a sitting position and sighed heavily.

The soft caresses of her yellow swimsuit made her think of her recent actions and just how much she loves the suit. A contradiction: one memory is of joy and arousal, the other of guilt and sadness. She fixed her suit’s shoulder strap and then, slowly, almost lazily, moved her hand down her body. She rubbed a finger over her swimsuit-clad chest; drawing circles around her breasts while her other hand slipped towards her covered pussy and started to rub it through the garment.

Caddie would’ve continued this until her body jerked with pure lust, her eyes closed in ecstasy, but her guilt and confusion strengthened her will. She abruptly stopped touching herself and sighed again, her eyes inspecting Lila’s sleeping body and then placed her face in her hands.

Groaning once, she began to sob inaudibly. Her hair, even in its sleeping state reflected her sadness and guilt; the strands that just hours prior danced merrily now were as a dry flower, covering Caddie’s face.

A flash of knowledge flashed in her mind—the confusing guilt that pressed against her heart the key to the prison of knowledge. Her head ached—a flash of pain like hot coals pressing against her forehead. Slowly she began to grasp the knowledge: slowly Caddie understood that it was her imposed nature to transform others; that she needed... no... that her mind and body craved to give others the gift she had been given.

But she still felt that it was wrong to change someone against their will into an eternal creature of pure joy and happiness.

Caddie blinked.

“Eternal?” She thought, blinking. “How do I know that?”

Next to her, Lila stirred. The blue-haired girl moaned into wakefulness, rubbed her arm against her eyes and made still-sleepy sounds as her movements made the green swimsuit she was wearing rub against the many suits she was lying on. She looked at the ceiling for some blissful seconds, feeling refreshed and utterly happy at simply existing.

Lila felt Caddie sob one last time and looked at her friend’s face as she fixed herself and tried to hide the redness of her eyes and the wet streams going down her cheeks. Immediately, Lila’s face lost its usual morning glory.

“Caddie?” Lila said as she sat up in bed, her voice heavy with worry. “Are you okay?” She said, placing one hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Caddie shook her head and took a deep breath to calm down. She smiled a half-hearted smile and looked at her friend. “She looks so hot in that suit,” She thought. And then lied: “No... nothing’s wrong.” She lowered her head and then looked towards the ceiling as if waiting for it to crack and something to spirit her away to another world. “Oh, who am I kidding? I am not okay. I am absolutely not okay!”

A sepulchral silence ensued.

“I don’t know what to feel, my lady.” Caddie then said, not realizing what she just called her friend.

Lila titled her head so she could stare into Caddie’s eyes. “Caddie,” She whispered, her voice soft and filled with smiles and all things sweet. “Look at me.”

Caddie turned her head.

“You feel guilty for whatever we did last night- for whatever you did to me with that freaky hair of yours.” Lila then smiled. “Why?” She whispered.

Caddie blinked. Lila had a way of reading people that always made Caddie feel vulnerable. “Because you didn’t ask for it—I imposed my will and desires and cravings on you just like Farmer Oak tried with Bathseeba.”

“Who?” Lila asked, understanding what her friend meant but oblivious to the reference.

“You know, Gabriel Oak and Bathseeba Everdene.” Caddie said. “From that Thomas Hardy book.”

Lila just stared at her friend with a look that asked so many questions.

One, two, three seconds and Caddie’s eyes opened wide.

“I don’t read Hardy. I’ve never read his work.” She thought. “I mean...” She sniffed and then stopped talking, not wanting to cause any more alarm.

The two remained silent for a while, Lila looking at her friend’s hair, which moved like snakes on a hayfield; and Caddie thinking about her life, her hands clasped in front of her crotch.

“Caddie,” Lila broke the silence, “you are not crying about what you did to me,” Lila smiled faintly. “But at something different.”

Caddie sniffed and then smiled. How did she use impertinence to make her feel better about anything? How?

“I have always wanted more, Lila. Since I left my home I’ve fought to become something big, someone that people will still remember in a hundred years’ time.” Caddie sighed heavily, and then moaned—her swimsuit moving on her still sensitive breasts. “But it all crumbled... my dreams, my future—all those years I wasted studying and acquiring skills: a waste.

“Now I spend my days working minimum wage at a shitty store when I could easily get a job at a university, or a corporation, or a lab... Who am I kidding?.” A pause. “With that stain on my file? With the fault for someone else’s failure blamed on me? I’ll never be able to do as I always wished.”

Lila remained silent for a second and then spoke, her voice full of encouragement and wonder: “Yes, that door is forever closed.” She began, her hand idly caressing her swimsuit-clad bum as her hair began to stir. “But imagine how many new windows have been opened recently!”

Caddie raised an eyebrow.

“What this Lord Herrera person has given you, how he has transformed you into something... beyond human. Something unique and powerful and incredible.” She smiled, realizing that she too was slowly becoming one. Then frowned slightly—why? She thought. “I seriously doubt he made you into this without a good reason. Maybe, just maybe, a window was opened where the door was closed.” She kept up the facade.

Lila stared at her roommate and recent lover, her breathing fast and strained—partially because of the growing arousal she felt; the swimsuits the two were wearing making her loins cry for attention. She wondered why she was taking it, the whole being raped and converted by her best friend deal, so easily. Deep down she wanted to scream and yell and be angry at her friend, but no matter how much she tried to summon the anger, she only managed to bring forth arousal.

Caddie stared at her friend, her tears dry and her lips curved in a smile. She suddenly hugged her friend; she rubbed her covered breasts against her friend’s, and traced the girl’s swimsuit’s zipper with one finger. Lila embraced her friend, sighing at the feel of swimsuit on swimsuit, until Caddie abruptly stood up and walked towards the door, pantyhose swishing.

“Maybe you are right,” Caddie stopped at the door, one hand resting on the doorframe. She spoke without turning her head. “Only time will tell, I guess.”

And she walked away, leaving Lila alone to ponder questions of her own and to deal with the growing need in her lady parts.

The woman was lying on a red hammock, swinging between the two pillars of the veranda overlooking the flower garden underneath. She was holding a glass of wine in one hand and a slice of cheese with the other.

She laughed loudly, her eyes looking at Lord Herrera and then at the boy that was working on the garden.

“You can’t be serious!” The woman cried, tears coming out of her eyes as she tried to repress chuckles. “That boy is your toy? My! How old is he? Twenty?”

Lord Herrera smirked and looked towards an old gargoyle on one of the corners of his veranda; his white hair began to entwine on itself, showing the world the annoyance and embarrassment he felt.

“That lovely lad down there is not my toy, as you put it.” He said in his usual singsong voice, “He’s just my occasional, hmm, playmate, so to speak.” He regained his usual demeanour, returning to his ever-controlling posture even in the hammock.

“That is a horrible limitation you have there, Herrera.” The woman in the blue dress and heels said as she shifted to a sitting position. “I mean: I had forgotten that you can only control girls. I would kill to be able to do that...” She smiled knowingly.

Lord Herrera stared at her with a bored smirk.

“... with my voice alone.” She finished and the two laughed.

“Oh, my lady Clarrion, how have I missed your flaky self!” Lord Herrera exclaimed in utter satisfaction.

“There’s much to miss in ten years.” She laughed and then a thought flashed through her mind. “’84 was an excellent year, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed it was.”

Suddenly he rose from his hammock and extended his arms in an overly dramatic way towards Clarrion. “Would you be a darling, my sweet lady Clarrion, and accompany me this evening? I would like to show you a very special something.”

Lady Clarrion stared at Herrera for a second. She looked at his white hair, trying to read his intentions in the ever moving and sometimes betraying snakes of hair. They were still. Too still actually. Anyone would’ve taken that as a good sign, but Lady Clarrion knew how Herrera thought. And when his hair was still, either naughtiness or mayhem ensued.

Shrugging imperceptibly, Lady Clarrion took one of Herrera’s hands and pulled herself up. Lord Herrera effortlessly pulled the lady up on her feet and then winked before walking into back into his mansion.

“Will this special something have anything to do with any of the new ‘ladies’ you’ve been creating?” Lady Clarrion said with a smile of pure devious glee as she tried to keep up with the fancily-dressed man.

“Ladies? Whatever do you me- oh!” Lord Herrera said, his hand quickly going to his neck. “Oh, I had completely forgotten about my sweet and delicious Lady Caddie!” He made a sound with his tongue and then smiled slightly. He tried to keep his thoughts secret, but his hair hissed happily. “Besides, lady Caddie won’t be appearing on my door step for some time.”

“Then,” Lady Clarrion had to raise her voice since Herrera had just turned left and disappeared into a deep and dark corridor. “What are you going to show me!?”

“You’ll see!” Came the echo of his voice and Clarrion followed it.

Lady Clarrion huffed in annoyance yet followed and searched for the insane Lord. He could sometimes be so childish and exasperating, and at others he would be as mad as his age would require of him. And because of that, Lady Clarrion found herself looking all over the place until she found where he had walked into. Must come with the centuries, she mused to herself and then chuckled inwardly.

Then came a grimace.

“I won’t end up like that, right?” She asked herself and then pinched her shoulder, dissipating all thoughts of a bipolar future.

It took her some time to navigate the maze that was Lord Herrera’s mansion, but eventually she caught up with the thin man. He was standing in the middle of one of his many studies; this one fashioned with Greek motifs. Marble walls, columns and statues made up the place. The only thing out of place was the desk Herrera was sitting on—it was a white plastic lawn desk.

Lady Clarrion looked around herself, feeling strangely as if she were in a familiar place. It took her a while to realize that she had been in this room plenty of times before, but Herrera was so fond of changing the themes and decoration on his properties every couple of months that it barely resembled how it had looked ten years ago.

Herrera made a sound that reminded Clarrion of the first time the two met. It had been in a forest somewhere in Central Europe and that sound had filled her with such a sense of dread that day that she believed the sun was about to go dark and the earth about to swallow her whole. Today the sound just made her incredibly uncomfortable. There was really no way of getting used to the language Herrera and others like him used to communicate with their living hair.

“Lady Clarrion, if I wished you to be like one of my many statues I would’ve corrected that issue some time ago. Perhaps I would’ve even given you your own corner and made you want to believe you were never nothing more than stone.” Herrera said; his left hand held captive by his hair; his eyes twinkling with feelings no human could understand.

Lady Clarrion felt fear for just a fraction of a second. The way his eyes shone... She had seen him do terrifying things whenever that look appeared and she feared that he could be in the mood for doing something terrible to her.

“What’s all this?” Lady Clarrion was relieved to find something to deviate the conversation with—some papers on the plastic table. They were white and yellowish, some in manila envelopes and some with legal-looking stamps.

The white hair finally allowed Herrera to use his hand and the man jumped off the table and landed bum-first on a stool positioned some feet away from the table. He skilfully twisted on the seat and turned to look at Lady Clarrion. A devious smile replaced the fear-inducing look of his eyes. At least that she could stand.

“This, my magnificent lady,” He tapped the stack of papers with his fingers. “Is all the necessary arrangements—land, funds, materials, a workforce or two, among other things—to make your centuries-old dream a reality.” Lord Herrera’s right hand moved as if conducting an orchestra.

Lady Clarrion gazed upon the papers, her quick glance noting words like ‘acres’, ‘transfer’, ‘castle’, ‘mountainside’, ‘proprietor’... With her lips slightly apart and her mouth dry, Lady Clarrion stared at Lord Herrera with eyes that had seen too much yet could still find novelties.

“Wha-What dream?” She asked although she already knew the answer.

“Ottoman-ruled Egypt, early 1700s. You told me a story of a girl wishing to found and fund and create her own institution, academy or indoctrination school in which she would be able to change, affect, transform or—for lack of a better word—toy with the young ladies of the world. Thus, in a small way, influence the very future of humankind.”

Lady Clarrion could feel the desert sands on her skin and the blazing sun over her scalp. He remembers, she thought, feeling a tear crawl up her throat, after so long he remembers.

She swallowed.

“It took me some length of time, but I managed to find some leftover funds and land I, as the only one left capable of managing my extinct people’s legacy, could part with.” He opened a manila folder with a single sheet of paper. “A signature, and it’ll be yours.”

“You are not... you are not giving me all of this, are you?” Lady Clarrion pressed her index finger on the topmost stack of papers, tracing the words ‘Transfer of Ownership’. “What about the legacy of your kind? You can’t give all this to an outsider.” Her left hand was trembling.

Lord Herrera stared at Lady Clarrion for a while, memories of his short but well-enjoyed times spent with the woman flashing through his mind’s eyes. His face didn’t betray his emotions—he was well trained in the act of deceit—but his hair was a different story. No matter how many times he tried to learn how to control his hair, it would never obey him. His hair would always betray his feelings.

And Lady Clarrion knew it.

“Herrera!” She cried, her bottom lip trembling with joy. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t.”

Herrera smiled faintly. “Just sign the papers, lovely lady.”

And Lady Clarrion did. All of them. Hundreds of papers.

When the last paper was signed, Lady Clarrion took Herrera’s bony hand in hers.

“I have to thank you in some way.”

“You already did, lovely lady Clarrion. Over and over. Remember when you saved my life?” He said and then looked at his hands. “Besides, you don’t thank a gift. You just accept it and smile.”

Clarrion nodded and then took the papers, fixing them all on a pile on the floor some steps away from the table. Making sure they wouldn’t be blown away, she returned to the table, placing her palms on the plastic and her fingers under the table’s edge.

“You know that is not my style, Herrera.” Clarrion said and then raised her hands, flipping the table over its side and throwing Lord Herrera over.

The man hit the floor on his side. He cried in confusion and anger as he pulled himself up, but before he could even realize which way was up Lady Clarrion was all over him.

“You madwoman, get off of me!” His cry came out more like a laugh. “You’ll ruin my clothes.”

Lady Clarrion ignored the squirming man as she struggled to get to his belt. Lord Herrera swatted her hands whenever she touched the buckle of his belt.

“Stop this, Clarrion! You know that won’t work.” He pushed her face off of him, but somehow she managed to pin his arm behind him while removing his trousers. “You know I don’t fancy ladies.”

The sound of voices moving about his mansion distracted Herrera and he didn’t notice when Lady Clarrion skilfully removed his belt and trousers and underwear. He struggled still, calling the woman names and trying desperately to escape.

“This is my way of saying thank you, love.” Lady Clarrion said before she kissed Lord Herrera’s manhood.

And it was the worst experience they ever shared.

Caddie and Lila entered the mansion in a hurry. The day had started with a cool northern breeze and a clear sky, but now it was as if two angry weather gods were arguing if it was better to send down a monsoon or a lightning storm. Luckily it had been so sunny when they left home that the two girls had decided upon bringing umbrellas to protect against the solar radiation. Useful at first, they were now barely capable of keeping their thrashing hair from getting wet, something they desperately wished not to happen. Strangely, their living manes of hair were not fond of getting wet. At all.

Caddie’s right hand was entwined by angry strands of black hair; she felt her fingers tingling as circulation was slowed down, knuckles cracking as the hair pushed or pulled too harshly. This made holding her umbrella a challenge, and she was as wet as if she had decided to go out naked. Lila had her pixie cut hair twisted and knotted beyond any stylist’s skill.

“Oh, just quit it, you.” Caddie’s seven voices spoke in unison. All angry. “Or I’ll cut you, burn you and bury the ashes.”

Suddenly her hair loosened its grip on her hand and fixed itself into her usual, albeit new, hairstyle: an elaborate bun with three strands of hair falling on her shoulders. Caddie had recently discovered that her hair was like a pet: it needed to be trained, threatened, and rewarded.

Lila laughed and then hissed when her hair tried to grab her umbrella. She had yet to find out how to talk to it, let alone how to order it; yet, somehow, she managed to make it obey her orders. Unlike Caddie’s, Lila’s hair had remained in its regular, straight form since the morning.

Caddie placed her hand on the wooden door of Lord Herrera’s mansion and felt a prickling pain on her forehead. She cringed her eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling how the headache travelled throughout her head before dissipating. Caddie looked at the door again and knew what kind of wood it was, what the lion and eagles carved on it meant, and the history of doors.

She shook her head, deciding not to dwell on what had just happened.

“Come on, Lila.” Caddie said as she finally managed to close her umbrella and open the front door to Lord Herrera’s mansion. “My room’s this way.” She said and began walking down the well-known hallway.

Lila nodded silently and then started after Caddie.

The two walked silently for a while, Lila amazed and Caddie confused. Suddenly Lila spoke: “So, you’ve been coming here almost every day for a month-and-a-half now?” She said, her head turning from side to side as she inspected the mansion’s decorations. The place was extremely big and she wondered if she could sneak a look at the kitchen. It has to be enormous and majestic, she thought.

“Yeah, sometimes I come twice a day, depending on when Lord Herrera calls me,” Caddie said, “though it seems like he just does it for the fun of it—I am never asked to do anything.”

“What do you mean?” Lila looked at her arms, half-smiling at the way her opera gloves looked on them.

“Tell me, wouldn’t you at least order someone you have complete control over to do housework or something more devious at least?” Caddie stopped walking and stared at her friend’s face, looking for one particular emotion. Seeing the girl smile and then repress a shudder, she smiled inwardly.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Caddie continued walking, “He never asks anything. Doesn’t order me, doesn’t control me... nothing. He just lets me roam the house and do as I please.”

“That is weird.”

“It is, I guess. But better for me, in a way: I get to read all the books I can.” Caddie’s smile was both mischievous and glorious. “He has a huge library... one with security cameras.” She added after looking at Lila’s confused face.

Lila snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. How could Caddie be so casual about the whole thing? How could she not question Lord Herrera’s motives? These were important questions, Lila thought. Usually Caddie would question every situation placed before her in a meticulous and almost obsessive way. It was the one mania Caddie had that sometimes drove Lila mad—she never understood why her friend would question the simplest things. Lila lacked the probing and driving curiosity of her friend; so how was it possible that it was her that was the one to question the person responsible for causing her hair to hiss whenever she felt like murdering someone?

“I’ll have to ask these questions when I meet the guy.” Lila whispered to herself, already feeling that Lord Herrera was not someone to be easily swayed into answering.

Her hair made a sound that forced her very entrails to shiver.

Suddenly her mind was blank. Her body kept on moving, walking and following Caddie, but no thought occurred to her. Slowly consciousness returned—for she felt as if she had passed out—and she could feel her hair move, twist and dance on her scalp. I can feel them, Lila thought, her eyes wide.

And then thoughts returned.

All ideas about questioning Lord Herrera had vanished; the only thing that remained was her confusion at being able to feel her hair. Since being transformed into a lady she had not once felt her hair move—it was just like having regular hair. Even Caddie had said she couldn’t feel it move, and Caddie had been transformed months ago. But now she could feel it.

And that disturbed her.

Not once in the two weeks since her conversion had she felt her hair move; it always moved silently or loudly, but she could never actually feel it snaking around. Now, not only did it feel wrong but it also felt as if someone was trying to keep her in check. Lila had no idea how she knew it, but she simply did.

The hissing sound came again and Lila’s eyes slowly moved towards Caddie. If she had heard the sound and ignored it, it didn’t show. The girl was as oblivious as the rocks to the wind.

Swallowing hard, Lila braced herself for a third hiss sound.

Everything went blank.

“We are here.” Caddie said as she kicked the door open with her boot.

Lila blinked. She was disoriented for a second, but then saw the wooden door before her and Caddie beckoning her in. Automatically, she walked into the room.

While locks were locked and knobs turned, Lila tried to think but no thoughts came. Not important thoughts, really. Why had her hair hissed? She didn’t know. Why had her mind gone blank? Another mystery. Why was she feeling so utterly aroused and in need of a plastic friend? She could name some reasons, but not one was.

“You’ll love this, Lila. I have so many suits and hose that I had to move a bunch of wardrobes into the room just to keep them off the floor.” Caddie giggled.

Caddie giggled.

No matter how often she heard that sound, Lila could not quite accept that fact. She had never heard Caddie giggle or chuckle before. And still Lila couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Lila sighed and looked around the room. Suddenly all questions, all confusion and all thoughts were stored, packed and left to rot until once again they were needed. Lila had to admit that Caddie was right; she loved it.

All over the room she saw swimsuits.

“Do you have any waterpolo suits?” Lila said, her eyes slowly lighting up as she thought about the garments. “They’ve become my favourite type.” Lila could feel a heat growing around her loins as she thought about the very suit she was wearing.

Caddie stared at her friend and smiled knowingly; her look simply said ‘I know what you mean’.

“Of course. I have all sorts of suits.” She smiled and began to walk towards one of the many wardrobes lining the room’s walls.

Lila felt her body tremble with anticipation.

“Although...” Caddie’s tone was playful. She turned around and stared at her friend with a look that gave away all the naughty fetish thoughts she had. “First, shouldn’t we remove these nasty things?” She grabbed her t-shirt with two fingers.

Lila imitated her friend’s look—lips together, wide smile, eyebrows down—and nodded.

The two removed their t-shirts in unison. Slowly swaying their bodies to a silent song, dancing for an invisible public, they undressed. Sighs of relief and joy rippled the air as the two t-shirts hit the floor. Caddie’s bun slowly came apart, each strand of hair falling over her shoulders like muscles relaxing after their owner died. She shook her head, sending her beautiful black hair back and forth in a display of freedom.

Lila felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her body. She moved her arms, which were covered in a pair of elbow-length white opera gloves, over her swimsuit—a yellow-over-white piece with a green-lined zipper going down the front—and groaned to herself. She used both of her gloved hands to push the now unmoving hair from her face and then continued moving them downward, slowly travelling down her body until they reached her already wet sex.

In the blink of an eye her trousers were gone.

Caddie stood with her eyes closed, her arms slightly extended, her head thrown back, her legs apart. She was wearing dark pink pantyhose and a blue, high-cut one-piece—it was so high-cut that you could see her lower rib and the pink pantyhose covering it, how it fixed itself around Caddie’s sex, and how it slid in between her buttocks.

“I feel perfect now.” Caddie whispered.

“Me too.” Lila said as her feet guided her towards her friend.

Lila kept on running her satin-covered hands over her body, relishing and almost finding sexual release at how the two fabrics felt on her skin.

Two days after Caddie had given Lila her addiction, compulsion and desire for one-piece swimsuits, she had decided it was time to add a new obsession. Trapping Lila in the cook’s room, she used her voice and new skill at seduction to bring her under her thrall once more—it was quite easy actually; Lila practically desired to be put under all the time. Instead of giving her a similar desire for pantyhose as she had, Caddie had allowed Lila to decide. And she had decided on opera gloves.

“Now, about that waterpolo suit?” Lila said with arms wrapped around Caddie.

Caddie responded by wrapping herself around her friend and strange lover.

“You love the suits, don’t you, Lila?’ Caddie’s voice began to fragment, every following syllable sounding as if a new voice joined in the pronunciation.

Lila shivered. The voices, they were returning, each one singing, talking, reciting and humming in its own way. She could feel each one making its way into her mind, looking for something she could would just give away if ordered.

“Yes.” Lila whispered, an oblivious smile on her face. “I love them so much.”

Lila began to feel as if a heavy, thick mist descended upon her thoughts, obscuring everything but the desire for swimsuits and gloves. With nothing to keep it in check, her arousal began to escalate.

“Yes. Moan for me, Lila.” Seven voices whispered, “Moan, groan, thrash and cum. Enjoy the swimsuit covering you.” Caddie moaned—Lila had pressed her thigh against her crotch.

Caddie unzipped the zipper on Lila’s chest, prompting a powerful moan from the girl.

“Come on, Caddie. Undress me.” Lila rubbed her thighs together. “I want to wear a new suit now.”

Caddie bit her lip as she removed Lila’s suit, her free hand softly caressing between her legs. “Be patient, Lila.” Three voices, soft and caring, said. “Or you won’t have any swimsuits tonight.”

Lila pouted and remained silent as her friend removed her swimsuit. It felt like losing your skin.

“I know, Lila. Just wait and you’ll have a new one covering you.” Caddie smiled, knowing how it felt to be separated from one’s swimsuit. She had to go through it every couple of hours since her obsession required her to wear a different one every six hours.

Lila, just like Caddie, had a one-piece swimsuit tan. Where the swimsuits had covered her skin, she was as pale as a ghost.

Eventually Caddie showed Lila a black waterpolo suit with grey lines forming squares on the back and chest. Lila had to control herself to not snatch away the suit from Caddie’s hands.

“Thank you.” She said, staring at the garment as if it was a diamond; hugging it as if it was her own child; and moaning at it as it made her whole body shudder with pleasure.

Caddie stood akimbo for a second before one of her hands travelled down towards her sex—the need to touch through the suit and hose was starting to become unbearable.

“What are you waiting for, Lila?” Caddie moaned in two voices. “Go ahead and put it on.”

Lila looked at Caddie with puppy eyes. “Ehmm... I’d rather do it privately.” She said, holding the suit tighter against her breasts.

Caddie understood why Lila wanted to do it privately: the feelings that a swimsuit covering your skin satisfy are best enjoyed in private; the powerful sense of being loved, controlled, used and worshipped that came when you slid your skin into the spandex could only be appreciated when you were alone.

“Go ahead.” Caddie saw Lila hurry into the room’s bathroom before she finished speaking.

Caddie sighed happily and then walked towards her rather big bed. Her back sunk into the soft mattress once she stopped bouncing on it and then she began to grab and pull any and all swimsuits she had on the bed.

She was so lost in the waves of pleasure and mindlessness of her hand rubbing the swimsuits on her aching sex that she didn’t hear someone come in.

“Now, this is quite the interesting sight, lady Caddie.” Lord Herrera said.

Caddie’s eyes opened wide and she quickly sprang to her feet.

“Oh, ennh... Lord Herrera.” Caddie had to bit her lower lip—the sudden motion had forced her swimsuit to rub against her aching and already stimulated pussy and prompted her to orgasm.

“Relax.” Lord Herrera said in a commanding tone, a soothing voice and a merry song.

Caddie felt her whole body relax.

“Sorry I didn’t announce I was here, Lord Herrera.” Caddie’s hair, silent and still until then, began to faintly rise and dance. It looked as if a soft breeze had picked up.

Lord Herrera stared at Caddie with eyes that denoted no emotion, no warmth. His hair moved in ripples, like the ocean, and his posture was still. Caddie could feel he was not pleased and near angered about something.

Herrera sighed. “Do not worry your beautiful head, my Lady Caddie.” He said and then looked around the room. “Now, would you mind telling me who is the lovely young girl changing in the bathroom?”

Caddie felt like a child who tried to hide a broken plate.

“She’s... She’s a friend.” Caddie was suddenly at a lose for words.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Lila walked into the room. The grey waterpolo suit hugged her body perfectly, formfitting to her every curve and showing off what made her body desirable. She walked in with a hand idly massaging—not rubbing nor stroking—against her sex.

Caddie noticed Lord Herrera’s eyes go wide and his hair hiss in a high pitch. She was about to ask about it but Lord Herrera spoke before she could even formulate a question.

“You, my lovely and still unknown young lady, look quite astounding in that suit of yours. Oh, and those gloves!” He said, his body language short of utterly seductive, albeit a bit crazy. “Without knowing you I must say you are a girl of fancy tastes and a refined background.”

Caddie wanted to chuckle, sigh and daydream all at once, but she was more worried about how her friend would react to Lord Herrera’s straightforwardness.

Lila was frozen in place. She felt like a frog on a dissecting plate; like a deer in headlights; like a woman about to face the noose; she was completely and utterly out of her element.

Then it dawned on her: perfectly white hair that moved like snakes, tall and slender, erratic yet alluring body language, the strange speech pattern, the way his voice seemed to fragment like Caddie’s... he was Lord Herrera. She was in front of the man responsible for everything! So many questions, so much anger, so much to know.

Why did you do this? Who are you—what are you? How did you do this? She asked but she only said. “Thank you. You must be Lord Herrera.”

Lord Herrera stared at the girl with the waterpolo suit with intruding eyes and a jovial smile. He then extended her right hand and took Lila’s in his, kissing the back of her hand like a gentleman from old.

“Indeed that is my given, taken and used name. And your’s is...?”

“Lila.”

“Beautiful name. Reminds me of a time I spent in the breathtaking part of Siberia. But that is a story for another time.” Lord Herrera said, and then quickly turned to look at Caddie. “I see you’ve been busy, my lady.”

Caddie only nodded, feeling a bit ashamed yet strangely happy.

Something that could’ve been fear or wonder flashed across the ageless lord’s face, his quick eyes exploring both Caddie and Lila’s bodies, his white hair moving in waving patterns.

“Lord Herrera?” Caddie said, feeling a sudden headache. She pressed her eyes together until the flash of pain subsided. When she opened them Lila was standing next to her, her hand rubbing her pink-covered thigh.

“Lady Caddie, Lady Lila,” Lord Herrera nodded to the two girls. “Would you care to follow me? I would like you to meet someone special and to fulfil any inquires you have.”