The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

ARACHNE’S WEAVING

CODES: ff, bd

SYNOPSIS:

Lingerie made from special ancient cloth demonstrates its irresistible look and feel.

DISCLAIMERS:

This story is a work of fiction; any apparent resemblance between the characters in this story and any actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.

Do not read this story if you are under the age of 18 or if explicit sexual fiction is illegal in your jurisdiction.

This story contains mind control and explicit descriptions of bondage and sexual intercourse between two women. If any of these concepts disturb you, find something else to read.

* * *

The door on the far wall opened, and the tall raven-haired woman strode in.

Laurel recognized her. It was the same woman who had picked her up and carried her into the cabin. Her name was “Daphne”—Laurel knew that, but couldn’t quite recall her actually saying so. Her memories of exactly how she’d gotten here were a bit fuzzy.

Daphne untied the belt of her robe and let it fall open. Underneath it, she was wearing a black teddy. It covered her completely from neckline to thighs, but was so sheer and close-fitting that she might as well have been naked. The fabric had a bright sheen that picked up the light and highlighted her trim but definitely feminine curves.

There was no point in trying to yell through her ballgag, but Laurel did anyway. All that came out was a muffled grumble. To underline her protest, she tugged on her manacles, jerking her arms as the ropes binding them to the pillars at her sides pulled taut and then slackened a bit.

Watching impassively, Daphne continued to slip off her robe. The glints of light reflected from her bodysuit kept catching Laurel’s eye. Presently, the robe fell to the floor, and Laurel noticed that she was wearing black gartered stockings of the same material. She picked up the robe and walked toward the far corner of the room, where Laurel’s boots, belt, and miscellaneous pocket stuff were piled on the floor next to a classical statue of a nude woman.

While her captor’s back was turned, Laurel tested her bonds. They were no looser now than before. She could move each hand about six inches in any direction. For some reason, she’d been bound so that her right hand extended almost straight out from her body while her left hung at waist height. Maybe the idea was to interfere with her leverage.

She also made another quick attempt to pull on the lines that bound her ankles to the floor. Those were even tighter, holding her feet in place about eighteen inches apart. She’d given up on the lines that bound the sides of her collar to the pillars. Tugging on those just made her neck hurt, and she’d be better off trying to free one of her arms first. Not that she was getting anywhere with that.

Daphne dropped the robe on top of the pile of Laurel’s things and draped her arm over the statue. The pose creeped Laurel out even more than she was already. Daphne was practically broadcasting the fact that she was a lesbian with her sexual sights set on Laurel, just in case it wasn’t already obvious.

But then why hadn’t she stripped her naked before tying her up? She’d been just conscious enough to stand more or less upright under her own power, and in no position to resist. As far as she could remember, she hadn’t even tried to fight, but just stood there woozily as the shackles were put in place.

Maybe this wasn’t what it looks like. Maybe... maybe she’d just stumbled across some kind of secret base, and they thought they’d caught somebody spying on them. All these kinky lesbian bondage overtones could be just to keep her off balance while they made her talk.

No, that was stupid. If they wanted her to talk, they wouldn’t have gagged her.

“Are you familiar with the myth of Arachne, Laurel?”

The sudden non sequitur dumbfounded her. She stared at the brunette, wondering what the hell that had to do with anything.

After a long pause, Daphne apparently took her non-response to mean “no”. “Arachne was a mortal woman, a weaver of great skill. She boasted that she could even outdo the goddess Minerva.” Daphne clucked her tongue. “That sort of hubris never ends well. Minerva was not pleased, and summoned Arachne to make good on her boast. And she did... by weaving a tapestry that depicted the gods’ sexual indiscretions.”

Daphne slipped her arm around the statue’s torso, cupping her hand around its breast. “Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with a few sexual indiscretions.” Her hand moved down a bit further, to a more innocent position. “Minerva didn’t see it that way. She punished Arachne for her insolence by transforming her into a spider.”

She bent down. The sheen of her lingerie drew extra attention to the curves of her backside. “That’s the story in all the mythology books. There is a sequel, which I discovered in a lost ancient temple dedicated to Aphrodite.”

Opening a drawer in the base of the statue, Daphne took something out. Laurel couldn’t make out what it was. “This myth begins with Aphrodite, goddess of love, restoring Arachne to human form.” She chuckled. “I suppose Minerva wasn’t pleased about that, either. But she always did come across to me as cranky bitch who seriously needed to get laid.”

Daphne stood up and turned to face her captive. She held up two small black bundles. “But I digress. Anyway, Aphrodite did this because she had need of Arachne’s skills. Arachne couldn’t very well turn her down, considering what a big favor she owed her.” She unrolled the bundles, revealing a pair of shoulder-length black gloves. They caught and reflected glints of light just like Daphne’s lingerie.

“And so they created a dozen bolts of magical cloth, woven with Arachne’s craft and enchanted with Aphrodite’s power.” She put her hand onto one of the gloves and began pulling it up her arm. “Cloth that gave its wearer the power to be irresistibly seductive.”

Smiling blissfully, casting a blatantly lustful stare at Laurel, she donned the glove, so slowly that it seemed to take forever and yet so smoothly that the cloth seemed to flow under its own power. At last it was in place, and she repeated the procedure with the other.

Laurel stared in fascination. The woman in front of her radiated a raw eroticism that made the act of putting the gloves on seem like an exciting strip-tease show. She couldn’t take her eyes off the shining fabric.

And then it was done. Daphne struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other extended outward, palm up, as if presenting something beautiful and precious.

The garments’ shimmer was more intense than before, with sparkles of color and bright highlights. They drew Laurel’s gaze to the contours of Daphne’s legs and hips and breasts... an ideal feminine form, one that she longed to reach out to and embrace.

She shuddered. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t attracted to women, not even if they were sleek and curvy and pretty and... and.... With difficulty, she squelched that train of thought. What the hell was happening to her?

It must be those dancing sparkles of light from the fabric. They were hypnotizing her, or something. She closed her eyes tight.

“That won’t make any difference, Laurel.” The voice was teasing, amused. “You can’t shut the magic out that easily.”

It was true. She still saw the shimmering in her mind’s eye. If anything, the impression of an irresistibly attractive form standing before her was even stronger for the absence of any actual objects in her field of vision.

She heard Daphne’s footsteps. Each one was louder, closer, than the last. The vision in her mind’s eye loomed larger with each pace.

She tried opening her eyes and focusing her gaze elsewhere to distract herself. It didn’t work. She couldn’t manage to keep looking away for more than a second or so.

Laurel shook her head, as far as the collar lines would allow. No! She couldn’t be reacting like this! She was straight, dammit!

“And now, the conclusion... the ‘climax’, if you will. As Arachne finished weaving the final bolt of cloth, she looked up to see the goddess standing at her side, wearing a gown made from the first bolt. For the first time in her life, Arachne felt stirrings of sapphic desire. She tried to deny them, but they grew stronger every moment she looked at the goddess. She tried to close her eyes, to look away, but she was already ensnared in her own web.”

Daphne was now face to face with her. She gently blew aside a lock of auburn hair that was hanging not quite over the captive’s eyes.

“And then Arachne felt Aphrodite’s gloved hand brushing against her cheek. The touch of the fabric was even more compelling than the sight of it. Aphrodite had her way with the enraptured mortal, until Arachne felt such pleasure that she willingly gave herself to the goddess. After the bliss they shared that night, Arachne became Aphrodite’s devoted lover for the rest of her days.”

Smiling, she reached up toward her captive’s face. “And now you and I shall re-enact that tale. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, the outfit I am now wearing is crafted from another bolt of that enchanted fabric.”

Laurel tried to pull away, but the collar held her head firmly in place. Her eyes widened as she saw the gloved fingers approaching her cheek. She was ensnared, just like Arachne.

The touch was softer and smoother and nicer than anything she had ever felt before. It was the feeling she hoped for, but never quite achieved, from warm showers and spa pampering and sexual foreplay.

That last thought jolted her into frantic activity. She jerked her arms and legs, desperately trying to escape. Her bonds remained as firm as ever. She kept thrashing, hoping that the strain in her muscles and the discomfort of her shackles pressed tight to her skin would distract her from the lulling sensation.

It wasn’t working. The touch became more insistent as she felt it on her other cheek, and escalated further as the fingers shifted upwards to tousle her hair and massage her scalp. Her struggles grew weaker and less frequent, until at last they ceased altogether. Her entire body relaxed. A voice inside her head screamed at her to keep fighting, but it kept growing fainter and more distant.

She felt her ear being rubbed, and reflexively leaned her head into it like an affectionate pussycat. She knew that she shouldn’t do that, but it was hard to really care about anything other than the raw pleasure she was feeling.

After what seemed like forever, Daphne’s hands lifted away, and Laurel became aware of the world swimming back into focus again.

Daphne was looking her in the eye. She returned the gaze, calmly at first and then with an angry glare as she remembered what was happening to her.

She told herself that she could fight this. But she wasn’t sure she believed it.

“I’m sure you’re a smart girl, Laurel darling.” She gently stroked Laurel’s temples just outside her eyes; Laurel’s expression slowly softened into a vacant stare. “You’ve learned what the touch of these gloves can do... and so far you’ve only felt it on your face and scalp.”

She lowered her hands. There was a tug at Laurel’s collar, and she glanced down to see her top button open and the next about to follow. “Just imagine what it would be like to experience that sensation elsewhere on your body.”

Methodically, the hands moved down the line, undoing each button of her shirt and finishing with the top button of her pants. “Visualize these fingers moving at will across your skin...”

The clasp at the front of her bra clicked open, and the garment fell away from her chest. “...tweaking your nipples... fondling your bosom...”

Her pants zipper slid open, and the denim sagged loose around her waist. “...grasping your hips... squeezing your buttocks...”

Laurel took a slow deep breath as she felt silky fabric sliding down her thighs... Daphne’s gloves, and then her own panties. “...tickling your pubes... stroking your clitoris....”

That magic touch... between her legs? Just the thought of it made her shiver. It was... it was too much.

At any moment Daphne wished, those gloved fingers would move into position, seeking out and stimulating her most sensitive spots. Judging from what she’d felt already, it would be totally mind-blowing. She wondered if she’d even be aware of what was happening, or if she’d simply dissolve into pure bliss and wake up as Daphne’s lesbian love slave.

She took a deep breath and held it, and waited for it.

It didn’t happen.

Instead, Daphne sidestepped to Laurel’s right. “Or we could approach it from the other direction.”

She moved forward, and Laurel felt silky smoothness brush the fingertips of her right hand. A moment later, Daphne had positioned herself so that her left breast was just touching Laurel’s palm.

Laurel’s fingers twitched, and felt the same wonderful sensation she remembered from Daphne’s glove. The next thing she knew, her hand was wrapped around Daphne’s breast, gently rubbing it.

“How do you like it?” Daphne whispered.

Laurel froze, her thoughts whirling. She was not a lesbian. She’d just grabbed another woman’s tit. She was being held captive. She hadn’t been forced, or even directly asked, to do what she’d just done. She was being brainwashed somehow. She was actively fondling Daphne, and not even trying to stop.

For a moment, she did try. She tried to lift her hand away. The most she could manage was to slide her fingers together to converge on Daphne’s nipple. Through the sheer fabric, she could feel that it was hard and erect.

“Oooooh yeah! That’s nice...,” Daphne responded.

“Nice...” Laurel thought. She realized that her fingers were once again roaming across her companion’s breast.

She was actively assisting in her own surrender, she knew. But she didn’t really care. Her hand stroked and squeezed and kneaded.

It went on and on. At one point, Laurel leaned toward Daphne, brushing the side of her body against that wonderful smooth lingerie, and shuddered.

Finally, she realized that her hand was no longer touching anything, and Daphne was once again standing directly in front of her looking her in the eye. This time, Laurel’s return gaze was friendly, marred only by a look of disappointment.

“Are you ready to willingly give yourself to me, darling?”

After a momentary hesitation, Laurel nodded.

“I’m not quite sure that was really a ‘yes’.” Daphne replied. “But there’s one way to find out.”

She looked thoughtful. “I’ve run into my share of bi-curious poseurs and nervous girl-virgins who send the right signals, and ping the gaydar, and even say ‘yes’... and then have second thoughts at the last minute.”

She turned around and sidestepped, this time to Laurel’s left.

“But when a girl reaches out and grabs my ass, it only means one thing. Well, technically it means several things. It means she’s into having sex with other girls, and specifically into having sex with me, and wants the two of us to get down and dirty now, and has no doubts whatsoever about going through with it.”

Daphne took a careful half-step backwards. Her rear end was about two inches in front of Laurel’s hand... not quite in contact, but easily within reach.

“Well?”

Laurel took a deep breath.

Her arm lunged forward, and she grabbed a handful of ass.

“Why, you shameless little hussy!” Daphne mock-scolded. “Just the kind of girl I like....” Daphne wriggled her butt, and Laurel’s hand tightened its grip.

“Mmmmm... oh, yes,” Daphne purred. “I’m glad you want it to be this way.”

“I... I guess I really do want it to be this way,” she realized. Laurel’s face relaxed completely as the final vestiges of internal struggle faded away.

Daphne leaned back for a few minutes and enjoyed the attention. At long last, she stretched, took a step forward, and turned around.

“Remember all those places I said I was going to touch—?”

Laurel didn’t wait for her to finish the question. She nodded, emphatically and without hesitation.

The next thing she knew, she felt hands take hold of her breasts. It was even more breathtaking than she’d expected. Her world became a medley of gentle stroking and delicate nipple-pinching and vigorous kneading. Whichever one was happening at the moment was somehow more delightful than anything else she’d ever experienced.

The hands lifted away. Before Laurel had time to miss them, Daphne leaned forward. Their bosoms brushed together, and then rubbed, and then pressed tightly. Reflexively, Laurel thrust her body forward as far as she could to intensify the contact. She felt hands grasping and squeezing her ass, and the two women’s bodies pulled together even more tightly.

Unable to deliver a proper kiss through her gag, she rubbed cheek against cheek. Daphne’s bare skin didn’t feel quite like the marvelous fabric, but it was just as pleasant in its own way.

The pleasure was almost more than she could imagine. And then it became even greater, as Daphne’s right hand slid across Laurel’s flank and made its way around and forward toward her snatch.

She gasped into her gag as she felt the electrifying touch tickling her bush, and felt faint with the realization that this was still only the beginning.

For a moment, she remembered that she’d tried to resist this, thought that she could resist this. She laughed at the absurdity, until the touch of a fingertip between her pussy lips banished all thought. Her hips bucked reflexively, and she took quick deep breaths. Almost... YES! THERE! She almost came as she felt the first tingly touch upon her clit, and a few more gyrations amplified the sensation until her body was rocked by the most intense orgasm she’d ever felt. She would have collapsed if not for her bonds, and screamed if not for her gag. As the physical reaction slowly began to subside, she thought that she might have pulled every muscle in her body, but didn’t give a damn.

After she finally settled down enough to stand up without feeling shaky, she heard a click behind her. The strap around her head slackened, and a moment later Daphne was removing the ballgag from her mouth. As she worked her jaw and tongue, she heard her ask, “Would you like to return the favor?”

“Sure!” Laurel nodded eagerly.

“Well, then, let’s get more comfortable.” Daphne quickly undid her partner’s bonds, and helped her out of her remaining clothing. Laurel stretched her arms and legs as she enjoyed the sight of her companion peeling off her teddy and stockings. The shimmering highlights faded as the garments fell in a heap on the floor, but the other woman’s body was no less alluring in its own right.

Daphne reached out her hand. Laurel took it, and let her companion draw her close. Lips and tongues pressed together in a kiss far more exciting than any she could remember. Bare fingers glided down Laurel’s back and caressed her bottom as smoothly as if they were still clad in the magic gloves. Her own hands did likewise, and getting them onto Daphne’s butt felt just as exciting now as it had earlier.

As they finally separated, she briefly wondered if the magic had left some imprint on her mind, or merely opened it to this new experience. She decided that it didn’t matter.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt herself being lifted off her feet and carried toward the door. She tucked in her head and legs as Daphne swiveled them through the threshold and up the stairs.

“Time for bed,” Daphne leered down at her. She returned the leer, and Daphne chuckled. “We need to work on your bedroom eyes, darling. You’re overdoing it.” She suggestively licked her lips. “But that’s way down on the priority list of what I’m going to teach you!”

The next thing she knew, Laurel felt herself being lowered into the sheets. She stretched out languidly. The feel of the silk reminded her of Daphne’s touch, and whetted her appetite for more.

“Nice bed. I can only think of one thing it needs.”

“Funny; that’s exactly what I was thinking last night!” Daphne replied as she lay down beside her new lover.

They entwined in an intimate embrace atop the now-flawless bed.