The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Beth’s eyes opened barely enough to see the burgundy sheet-covered body lying nearby. Although the young woman was not physically gifted with any exceptional endowments, Beth was caught in a strange attraction to her. With a restful sigh, the sleeping woman maneuvered from her side to her back. The top of the soft sheet revealed more skin as it slipped toward her waist. Beth appreciated the young woman’s preference of sleeping topless because it showcased her small, lemon-sized breasts as they flattened out across her chest as she settled onto her back. Her chaste pink nipples, about the size of pencil erasers, cast temptation at Beth as they did during yesterday’s exploits at the university research lab. She considered awakening the beautiful dreamer by wrapping her lips around a soft pink morning delight and giving a gentle tug. She had seen many sets of breasts that far surpassed the pair this girl had, but Beth could not shake the odd feeling of attraction. She longed for the euphoric feeling created when the tiny nub pressed against her tongue.

Hmmm, Nicole, let me taste your body again she thought as she closed her eyes with a smile on her face. When she opened them, the girl was gone. The fantasy had ended.

However, the unique flavor from Nicole’s body remained on her tongue and lips. While on her back, Beth stretched, elongated her body, and the burgundy sheet slid down her torso to her waist, exposing her complete nakedness. She lifted her knees to push off the covering completely, sat up, and swung her legs to the side of the bed. She reached for the white tank top and boxer shorts that were resting on her nightstand and slipped them on. Once covered, she walked to the bathroom to begin her morning routine.

This morning was different than others. She felt driven to try to impress the physically-unremarkable younger woman when she saw her later in the morning. She had to make Nicole like her. In the past, Beth was always the dominant one with her physical looks and charm, but Nicole made her feel small, and she liked it.

Why do I want to submit to Nicole? Sure, she makes me feel good, but why should I lower myself to that? Am I doing it to please Serena? thought Beth.

Based on the evidence in the mirror, her complexion had a healthy glow which complimented the light hazel color of her eyes. It seemed the age-related markings around her eyes, which she worked hard to keep hidden under a layer of makeup, had become microscopic and nearly smoothed away. The sight caused Beth to wonder if her face was responding in any way to her encounter with Nicole.

After some stretching and a brief workout of push-ups, planks, and lunges, to keep her core in top shape, she discarded the loose-fitting tank top and boxer shorts to continue her routine self-examination in the nude. She stood upright and, as expected, her breasts retained their full appearance and lift. Under them, her stomach was flat and soft. It seemed a little more sculpted today, with a pair of new ridges, as if she had lost a few pounds. She ran her hand over her stomach to be sure the ridges were real. Then she tried to pinch a skinfold and found there was less to pull than before.

Odd. I haven’t changed my routine. My time in treatment must be helping me in this way too, she thought.

Her hand drifted lower over her sleek, flat pelvis until her fingertips grazed soft, tightly-trimmed tufts of short blond hair. She was proud of her manicured patch that preceded the appearance of her mons and labia. Resisting temptation to allow her fingers to drift further, she brought her hand back to her chest. That activity would be reserved for Nicole.

She lifted one breast and then the other. They felt supple. Beth yielded to the compulsion to monitor her physical attributes closely and keep them in prime shape to get Nicole interested in growing their relationship. Also, it felt good to cup her own grapefruit-sized mounds. Besides, Nicole seemed to enjoy them. Why do I keep thinking about what that girl thinks of my body? thought Beth.

She began massaging them with her hands, a part of her routine, and as she closed her eyes her mind began to replay yesterday’s treatment session. She remembered that Serena told her, “You want me. You lust for me.” Yesterday, that was true. This morning, however, Nicole was the center of her attention. Although Empathy had intended for Beth’s passions to drive her to Serena, her own mind set a unavoidable roadblock in the form of Nicole. The obsessive nature was planted by Empathy, but Beth’s mind had detoured her toward someone other than the intended target.

Beth shuddered at the involuntary tingle that ran up and down her torso. Succumbing to the compulsion, she allowed herself to fade into a lust haze and continue her self-enjoyment. After several soft touches, she squeezed her own breast harder than before and then opened her eyes to find the offending hand did not belong to her. The small, pale hand belonged to Nicole, who stood behind her. She was standing off her right side and was reaching around Beth’s torso. Her smile indicated playfulness and ownership.

“You didn’t think you’d get away from me so easily, did you?” said the shorter, younger woman whose hand was tipped with cherry-red fingernails. Then Nicole shifted and brought her other hand around to cover Beth’s left breast. The hands stroked Beth’s breasts in concentric motions several times and, without warning, the cherry-red nails gently closed onto her nipples. Beth winced in response. Nicole’s hands then firmly tugged on the nipples. Beth gasped as her eyes momentarily clamped shut.

“No, no, of course not. I would never even try to leave you. I am yours, only yours,” said Beth breathlessly. She felt required to say the words. Her internal thoughts were also giving in to the changes. That feels so good. Please keep doing that, she thought over and over again. The lust had induced daydreams of Nicole. Beth took in a deep breath of enjoyment as she wallowed in the erotic mindplay. She was losing control.

Meanwhile, in a dark corner of her mind, a golden-eyed being remained unaffected by the changes and watched intently. The being patiently waited for the opportune time to resume the fight for Beth’s mind.

“Don’t fade away again, Nicole. Stay with me longer!” Beth said. Her eyes shut instinctively as another spike of arousal ran up her spine after Nicole tugged on the end of her breast. Beth’s knees felt unsteady. She opened her eyes, planning to see Nicole, but the fantasy was gone. Residual feelings of arousal remained. Her mind was conflicted. At once it whispered Good, that woman is gone while it also screamed I need to see her. I need to bring her back.

The scream won the battle this morning.

After the image of Nicole had faded, Beth felt more awake. Her mind then recalled more of what Serena said to her the previous day. The message seemed to be summed up in two concise statements.

“You’ll join me and support my cause, and we’ll change the world together.

“Women will finally have the chance to live the lives they deserve.”

Beth considered the noble intent of the message, but what was in it for her? How would she benefit? The only thing she thought to pursue were the physical sensations she got when she was with Nicole. And to keep these sensations going, she would have to lure Nicole into controlling her. She had to teach Nicole to be her dominant. Anything less would be unsatisfactory.

Again the cravings surfaced. She squeezed her breast again to reignite her physical arousal. “That’s right, do it for me.” Beth looked over and saw the image of a topless Nicole sitting on the edge of the bed. The pale, thin girl again seemed oddly attractive at the moment. Nicole said “Don’t stop. Look in the mirror. Seduce yourself. Have sex with yourself. Do this, and I’ll be happy. You don’t need to wait for later.”

The phantom Nicole then said, “Remember what Serena said: ‘it begins with you, embracing your lust, and obedience to me.’ Think about that while you seduce yourself in the mirror. Really give yourself a show. Give in to it. And when you do it for her, you’re doing it for me.”

Beth pondered on the words spoken by the apparition, allowing them to rebound against the walls of her mind many times. Within the echoes, there was a smaller voice of dissent. Embrace my lust… obedience to me, your Mistress… your Mistress… your Mistress… your Mistress… but… your Mistress… not her… your Mistress… your Mistress… but not her… only your Mistress… I don’t want… look to your Mistress… not her… I don’t… your Mistress… But I don’t want her… your Mistress… bow… OBEY your Mistress… now… Stop, please… Bow to your Mistress… bow to her. Beth rubbed the sides of her head to relieve the mental torment resulting from the raging argument.

Again, Nicole’s side won, but uncovered a formerly smothered piece of her mind that hinted this pursuit of submission to Nicole would be a direct betrayal of who Beth was in the past. However, Beth could not find a reason to care about the betrayal. More than a vacancy in her memory, there seemed to be broken shards of a picture of what she had been, buried under mounds of debris. Trying to uncover the lost memories would be too hard, much harder than standing in the mirror playing with her beautiful, luscious breasts for the pitiful wretch seated on her bed. She pulled on one of her own nipples, then the other. Her arousal flowed back and forth like an untamed river throughout her body. Nicole seemed pleased. Her mind felt more at ease. Beth also reached between her legs for a quick feel but her hand did not remain there.

“That’s right. Seduce yourself, please me,” said Nicole. The phantom was reclined on the edge of the bed, her left arm propping herself up and her right hand fingering the surface of her satin red panties, exposed by her spread legs. The cherry red nails and deep red panties strongly contrasted Nicole’s pale figure, but Beth was too engrossed in her own sensations to think critically of the girl’s appearance.

After the effects of Empathy on her mind and these ongoing visions, Beth’s brain was grasping for some semblance of normalcy. For now, the only thing pulled out of the chaos was that Nicole should be her mistress. When that happens, Beth would continue to feel these amazing sensations. She could think of nothing else and thought of no one that could stop that from happening.

“You’re such a beautiful play-thing, with your glamourous looks,” said Nicole. Her bold, sultry pose gave Beth a full view of the small, white breasts with pink nipples. Her spread thin legs gave Beth a lewd view of the satin red panties. “Keep dancing for me, little dreamer. Such a little girl you are. I know you don’t think I’m much, but at least I can control you. You see, you’re not that strong. No, you are, in fact, weak and soft. Say it to yourself—weak and soft... You’re weak and soft... Believe in these words... Weak and soft.”

I’m weak... I’m so soft... So weak and soft, Beth compulsively repeated in her mind. The continual friction resulting from her hands rubbing her breasts caused her chest to blush further. Her elegant dark pink nipples elongated to hard points. She looked at the ghost Nicole again and then closed her eyes to absorb the full experience. She felt the sensations wash over her like waves—pounding, then pulling back, smothering, then pulling back.

An angry hiss came from the pair of golden eyes in a dark corner of Beth’s mind, but the noise was ignored.

“Oh,” she moaned, feeling her clit throb like it was the first time the sensitive pearl had ever been touched. Then Beth realized the lust-filled insanity that she experienced yesterday at the lab was returning. It was working

“I’m so soft. I’m so weak. Nicole. Nicole. I need her so bad,” she whispered to herself as she rushed over to climb onto her bed on all fours. She felt the pleasure flood rising in her and was determined to capture this moment of bliss for herself. As she arranged her legs on the mattress, a fully nude Nicole appeared lying on the other side of the bed, watching curiously. Even propped up on her elbow while lying on her side, Beth noted Nicole’s breasts didn’t amount to much as they hung to the side. They were unimpressive at best. Regardless, doing what Nicole instructed was giving Beth all of the pleasure that she ever wanted.

Placing a firm pillow between her legs, Beth lowered her pelvis until her throbbing clit pressed against the edge of the pillow. Back and forth, back and forth, she rubbed against the pillow edge to build up the erotic tension. Her impressively-shaped D-cup breasts swayed seductively with her movements, occasionally making a soft smacking noise against her torso.

“Oh, that’s good baby. I like where you’re going with this. That’s right. I always thought you were a weak, slutty girl. Show me how weak you are. I’ll let you feel good. Such a baby for me. So soft and so weak. So weak and dirty. You’re my slut,” said Nicole. Beth felt herself getting closer to the top, but the peak kept slipping out of her reach and moving further away. “Dirty, weak slut. Chasing what you’re unable to catch,” said Nicole. “So sad, really.”

“Ahhh! Are you kidding me? Come on!” Beth whined between sexual grunts, but it didn’t help. She looked over at the image of Nicole. Nicole just grinned while she subtly mimicked Beth, rubbing her fingertips over the sleek front surface of her red panties.

Beth then attempted a different approach. She lied down on her side of the bed. She saw Nicole move a little closer to her. Nicole’s lips were inches from her own. “So pathetic. You’re so weak, you’re nothing. Such a cute, horny softie, trying to get off without being with me. See, I’m not touching you. That means all of this is not going to work, you pathetic slut. This is part of your growth. Do you know how inadequate it is that only I can bring you off?” she said.

“You wonderful bitch,” said Beth out of frustration. Beth tried using her fingers, and also the vibrator from her nightstand, but those did not produce any better results. The marathon masturbation session confirmed her weakness. Nearly forty-five minutes after she had begun dry-humping the pillow, the pillow case was slick with her love juice, but Beth lay still, exhausted and horny.

What am I doing? she asked herself. She doesn’t matter to me. How can someone so insignificant be such a curse?

“Yeah, that’s a problem I’m sure. Why me, oh why me? Yeah, why you? Doesn’t matter. You’re weak and so, so in love with me—mad, crazy, girly love,” said Nicole. “And you need me, so bad.” Beth momentarily forgot reality and tried to grab the girl’s arm but made no physical contact. Beth’s hand flowed through the image before her. Nicole was not physically in the room with her. Though she was just a figment of Beth’s imagination, the apparition was right. Beth would not find sexual satisfaction without being in Nicole’s physical presence.

Now Beth was obsessed with achieving orgasm. The necessity to trick Nicole into dominating Beth influenced her choice in what to wear for the appointment. Normally an assertive and confident, bordering on overbearing, woman, she felt submissive, soft, and wanting, when she thought about being in the presence of that wretched girl. It shocked her whole being to be caught in this conundrum. She decided to dress in a way to the tempt the girl, the quickest path to achieving release. As it was forecasted to be abnormally warm day, Beth opted to wear her short-sleeved tied crop top with one-inch horizontal blue and white stripes, pulled tight and braless to allow nipple show-through, and a pair of cuffed dark blue denim shorts with a three-inch inseam. Her appealing, toned midsection was framed by the fashionable high-waisted shorts, that halted their rise an inch below her belly button and the abbreviated v-neck crop top, which also allowed a visual sample of her cleavage. She finished the process by coating her lips with Revlon black cherry lipstick, twice, and slid her feet into black Whitmill platforms, which easily added two inches to her height. The angle of her feet in the shoes flexed her impressive calves when she stood. To finish, she pulled her Levi’s denim jacket with bronzed buttons from her closet and slipped it on. Beth looked like the ultimate 1990’s plaything.

While she drove to her destination, Beth decided to stop at a nearby Coffee Hut for a quick fill-up of her favorite morning beverage. Though her mind was racing with the myriad of approaches she could use to put Nicole in place to dominate her sexually, it would be improper to arrive before the appointed time. That would be an inconvenience for the girl who should hold power over her. When I was dominating others, I would never allow a submissive to inconvenience me , thought Beth. The same would be true for Nicole.

As Beth opened the glass door of the standard turn-key franchise building and stepped into the shop, the two elderly men at the nearby corner table stopped sipping their cups of black coffee, locked their eyes on her and stared. They were old and no longer cared about social propriety. That behavior was imitated by a pair of attractive high school girls, both working on a caffeinated beverage topped with whipped cream and hazelnut syrup, and three women standing in queue line leading to the order counter. The unsolicited and impolite actions stirred conflicting feelings in Beth. The confident side of her knew her physique was incredible and was more than willing to show it off. However, the Nicole-obsessed side of her knew doing that would inadvertently cause another spike in her arousal and she wanted to keep that cooled down until the time was right.

In the end, she did neither, choosing instead to stare at the floor and avoid eye contact while permitting others to see look her over. She pinned her hope on the thought they would lose interest after she had passed by them. She did not look back to confirm her hope was fulfilled.

Once she got to the front of the queue line, a perky teenage girl with the overdone mascara, nose piercing, and bra cup contours edging through the surface of her light brown Coffee Hut t-shirt kept her eyes on Beth’s chest for a full three seconds before asking “Welcome to Coffee Hut, where we always start your day hot. What would you like to order?” Shades of Beth’s dormant personality flared to the surface as she inspected the lascivious look she received from this pony-tailed adolescent blaring “Daddy Issues!” behind the counter. Beth may never see the two elderly men, the pair of high school girls, or the three women in line again, but she was bound to see this coffee-wench in the future. Beth’s dominant side needed to take initiative to set boundaries and expectations. Beth placed her left hand on the counter and leaned toward the girl. As her impressive chest shifted forward, she whispered “Come closer” to the uncertain barista.

As the girl leaned in, she was nearly cheek-to-cheek with Beth as Beth said, “Look at my chest.” The girl looked down and stared. After several seconds, Beth whispered “They’re beautiful, soft, supple, and one-hundred percent real. I work hard to keep them looking this way. Would you want to touch them?”

Confounded by Beth’s indecent proposal, the stunned girl could only nod affirmatively.

“I thought you leaned that way. Now listen closely,” Beth took a breath before continuing. “Unless you do something serious about improving this scrawny, unappealing body of yours, this is the closest you’ll ever be to a set of breasts like mine. Until you actually hit your potential, and probably beyond, you’ll be lucky to feel the tits of some middle-aged housewife, way past her prime but looking for approval from any random teenage punk.”

When she stopped speaking, the barista leaned back. Beth noticed some wetness around the edge of her eyes before the girl sniffled. “And I don’t think there’s a charge for my large House blend with a shot of espresso, is there?” asked Beth. The girl slowly shook her head and mumbled “It’s on the house.”

“Beth? Beth? I know it’s you. Hey, Beth Freeman, over here!” said a squeaky baritone voice that broke through the low rumble of the shop. After receiving her order at the counter, she turned and greeted a fast-approaching man, Bernard Clifton, who offered a quick but awkward handshake.

“Crazy to see you here,” he said. He smiled widely in an attempt to make her feel comfortable. His overuse of Brut cologne and recently acquired spearmint gum was unable to mask the scent of alcohol on his breath. “Please. Join me.” Bernard Clifton pointed to the shiny white seat across from his.

Unlike her husband, the University’s Dean of Science was not a visually appealing man. He was overweight and kept a sizeable amount of his fat in his belly. This morning he sported a plaid-patterned, front-buttoned short-sleeve shirt and tan Docker shorts that ended above his knees. Unfortunately, the clothes he wore seemed too small for his expansive body. The shirt, with buttons that look as if they would pop at any moment, struggled to contain his gut. Also, he was sweating as evidenced by the droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. That was a feature that did not surprise Beth.

He is either mental, or something is really troubling him. Either way, what did I do to deserve this? she thought. She sat down in the chair across from him and waited for him to begin with small talk.

“You must not make it over to this part of town often,” he said. Beth felt bored, but responded anyway.

“No, I used to come here regularly, but haven’t been here lately,” said Beth. She hoped to move the conversation along. “I would meet some friends here. We started our morning with gossip. We thought it was a fun way to start the day. So, I thought I’d visit an old stomping ground.” This was a lie, of course, and she had her reasons to conceal the truth. Her visits to the university lab needed to remain unknown to Clifton.

This insanity should not be part of my morning. Why does he want to talk to me? We don’t even work together. We barely communicate except when I take message to pass on to Will. I just need to get to Nicole. She smiled before she realized he got a healthy view of her top under the jacket as it fell open. Her smile faded. Play it cool. Play it cool, she reminded herself. He can’t know about what I’m doing at his research facility. She forced the smile to return to her face.

“Listen, I know you’re busy and, funny thing, I can only talk a few minutes,” she said. “This was going to be a brief stop.” She did not regret being more direct with the man than she was with the barista. However, she needed to avoid offending his husband’s boss. “Mr. Clifton. I’m up here,” she said with a pleasant tone to redirect his gaze away from her cleavage. She refused to put up with any shenanigans and wanted him to get to the point. She closed her jacket over her chest.

“Alright, I can see you want to get on with your morning. Last we talked, I think it was at the department barbeque, you went on and on about how much leisure time you had. And you were nice to hang out with. Today you seem a little testy. Anyway, since you obviously don’t have the time, I’ll get to the point,” Clifton said. His tone revealed his discontent. “Have you heard from your husband in the last week? I need to know if he’s talked to you.”

The question irked Beth. “No, Bernard. No, I haven’t heard from Will since his flight landed at the end of the month. He called me from the airport. Besides, you’re supposed to know what’s going on, aren’t you? Haven’t YOU heard from him?” From prior experience, Beth believed this type of trip usually took longer and the lack of communication was typical. It made sense that extended stays were required to talk private donors out of their hordes of cash, but now she had the sinking feeling there was more to Will’s predicament. Doubts about her husband’s well-being crept into her mind, sparking guilt, and in response she looked for a mental scapegoat for that guilt. The scapegoat was sitting across from her. It’s his fault. He’s disrupting my life. Her eyes narrowed as Bernard Clifton spoke. Her anger at the man grew a degree regardless of her hidden unfaithfulness. It was Bernard Clifton who sent him and put him in danger, not her.

“Okay. I spoke to him more recently. When I spoke to him, he was meeting with the donor and shared what the donor was proposing. We talked about options and how to respond. He said he’d check in with me later than that evening. I waited. That call didn’t happen. I didn’t receive any calls the next day, or the one after. I figured this donor was eccentric and so I gave Will some space to close the deal. I put my trust in Will. Then, a week ago, he missed his return flight home,” he said. “At that point, I decided to intervene. I called the donor. I was told that Will left after completing the deal and was in possession of the check. The check was made payable to the university. Now don’t ask me why the money wasn’t wired. It makes no sense. Anyway, do you have any idea where he could have gone? And if he has the check, what could he have done with it? Does he owe anyone money? We need to get him back here. Look, I need the money and honestly, I need him back. His his lab doesn’t operate without his steady hand. I only have his assistant, Nicole Bunning, to depend on. With her in the lead, the research isn’t getting done. But the money, the check—it’s got to be somewhere. Think we can find it? Or do you think I need to request a replacement?”

Something Clifton said didn’t land right with Beth. “What the donor was proposing? Since when do the donors make demands on the University’s Department of Science?”

Clifton chuckled condescendingly. “Most donors just give, but the bigger ones attach strings to their gift. This money is given with conditions, sometimes strict, other times flexible. Will had to negotiate with this donor in person because of their tough conditions.”

Satisfied with his response, Beth lost interest in pursuing any more information. She lost focus on the words being said by the bumbling oaf and locked her eyes on the jilted barista behind the counter. Beth thought about what she said to the girl about her curveless, unappealing body. As she stared more, Beth realized the barista was not much, but was still more appealing than her future dominant.

The squeaky baritone broke the reverie. “Did you hear me, Beth? This is very important. Are you even listening?”

Beth blinked twice to reset her attention. What is this tone he’s taking with me? Does he think I’m some student or employee that he can talk down to? But her strategic mind convinced her that she can get out of there sooner if she played along. Begrudgingly, she sat up straighter and refocused on the conversation. It would be out of character and probably backfire to cuss him out. She decided to dig for more information on a question that began nagging at her. However, time would soon be running short, and there’s no way that Nicole should have to wait on her.

Beth assumed the question when she answered “Umm. Yes. Yes, I was expecting him back by now. Even though I was starting to worry, I was going to give it some time before starting to ask questions, but since you’re here,” said Beth getting ready to ask the key question. “Who was this odd donor that Will met with, Bernard?”

The Dean was disarmed by the direct question. He squirmed in his chair and took an exaggerated breath. He put his hands together, then pulled them apart, and then ran them through his graying hair. He let out a puff of air. “Isn’t this a freaking mess,” he mumbled. “Look, Beth, normally, I don’t disclose the identity of prospective donors before the entire deal is done, with money in the bank, because it’s embarrassing when they change their mind and decide to retract their donation. But seeing the circumstances… and the likelihood that your husband still has the check with him… I’ll tell you. It’s Scottie Hecate... of Hecate Pharmaceuticals.”

“Hecate Pharmaceuticals? Hmmm. If you and I are going to keep talking, Bernard, let’s get something straight. You need to stop accusing Will of wrongdoing. For all you know, he’s a victim at this point. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, you messed up pretty bad,” said Beth. She let her sharp verbal darts fly and observed they landed effectively, putting Clifton in his place. “Now, tell me more about Scottie Hecate. What do you know about him?”

Clifton put his hands up. “Look. I’m not here to attack you or Will. Really. So there’s no need to feel defensive,” Dean Clifton retreated from his position. “And about Hecate? You probably know they’re a big player in medicine, especially pain relievers, for hospitals all over the country. About a year ago, I was tipped off that they were expanding their research division. The early word was they were getting into women’s and fitness supplements with a completely new take on hormones and chemical manipulation. So I put my feelers out, you know, to confirm this was true. You see, Mrs. Freeman, I’m well-respected in the fundraising community. People want to tell me a lot of things. They want to know what I think about different projects. So, I put out the word that I’d like to talk to Hecate. One day, instead of inviting me to their labs for a walk-through, which is what I’m accustomed to, they asked me about your husband’s current project. Alright, I’ll take it, I thought. Clearly, my networking paid off. I gave them details. We went back and forth for several weeks, then I set the stage for a big donation. I got Will on the plane days later to finish the deal. Scottie indicated the donation would be at least a half-million-dollars, to start.”

“Okay. Wow. That’s a lot of money for the department,” said Beth. It made sense that they needed to meet with Will. “And over the last few months you spoke to this Scottie often?”

Clifton sat back as he prepared to lecture Beth in the ways of higher education fundraising. “Well, not exactly. It doesn’t always work like that.” His condescending tone returned. “I talked to someone close to him, like an assistant, which is basically the same thing. No matter. When you’re a big-time fundraising networker like me, this is to be expected,” Clifton said. “Everything was nailed down. All Will had to do was show up, make friends, sign some paperwork, and return with the check.”

He paused and looked at her. “It’s too bad.” His facial expression shifted. “You know, Beth, you are a very attractive woman. I can’t help but think that you could have done better for yourself. Did I ever tell you how I got to be the Dean of Science at the University? It’s a pretty impressive story, one that a woman of your caliber would appreciate. Maybe you should keep your options open, in case you and Will don’t work out. I honestly think you can do better than him. You could be happier with someone… I dunno... like me,” said Clifton. Beth attempted to keep a straight face while reconnecting a couple buttons at the front of her denim jacket. She was preparing to put him in his place.

I can’t believe he said that. What a jerk, she thought.

Beth scowled. “What would Debbie think of your attempt at adultery?” she said, shaming Clifton by dragging his wife’s name into the conversation. Beth saw he was stunned. “Look, we’re done here. Time for me to go!” she said. She stood abruptly, grabbed her things, and turned toward the door.

What a gross man, she thought as she approached the exit.

She slowed when she noticed the pony-tailed rebel watching her. Beth swiftly crossed the seven-foot gap between her and the employee. When she was inches from the girl, Beth leaned in and whispered “Do not forget what I said. Starting tomorrow, do something with that body of yours and maybe… maybe... I’ll take a second look at you. Surprise me, sweetie. And don’t worry—I’ll be back to check on you. Impress me.”

Beth paused a second as the barista looked her up and down again, only moving her eyes. Then she nodded and said “Yes, ma’am.” Beth was satisfied with the response and departed from the shop.

It did not take long to drive from the Coffee Hut to the parking closest to the entrance of the university’s primary research building. “Okay, Nicole, I’m on my way,” Beth said as she checked her hair and makeup in the flip-down mirror. She was beyond flustered. Grinding her pelvis into the seat surface did nothing to alleviate the arousal that was pressuring her. She unbuttoned the denim jacket and pulled her shoulders back. She then exited the car and walked towards the affirming double-glass doors with an earnest stride.

As far as she was concerned, the details of the conversation with Clifton were distant memories as she approached the building’s entrance. Her mind flashed through the fantasies of Nicole from earlier in the morning. That girl better be ready for the temptation of her life. I can’t believe how much I need this. I have to submit to her! She has to take me, to stand over me, to control me. You’ll be my dominant whether you want to or not, Nicole.

As she stepped from the blacktop to the concrete sidewalk, her mind was flooded with memories of the last time in Empathy, laying in the lap of Serena, not Nicole, and suckling at her breasts. She thought of the buzz-buzz toy that Serena used. She thought of the way it teased her, slowly moved in her, stretched her pleasure holes, brought her to climax, released fluid into her, and the overall helplessness she felt that moment at Serena’s hands. Strangely, her obsession over Nicole began shortly after that experience. It was as though Serena, the closest being to a goddess incarnate walking on earth, decided they should be together.

Serena wants it. She wants me to want Nicole. To see Nicole, to look into her big innocent eyes, touch her slender arms, and to hold those pale, small breasts… Her emotions raced.

I need to see her. I need to teach her to control me, to bend my will, to be my mistress. Only she can fix what’s wrong with me. Once she controls me, I’ll be made whole by her.

When Beth was three strides from reaching for the door handle she realized the interior lights were all turned off. She put her face closer to the glass and squinted to see past her reflection. No one appeared to be waiting at the front desk area. The desktops were all clear and orderly. There was no activity at all. “No,” Beth said aloud. “No! No! No! This can’t be happening right now.” She stomped her foot in frustration.

Beth wrapped her hand around the door handle and pulled, but it did not budge. “Crap!” Beth fumed. “Crap!” Her insanely-high sexual arousal was clawing at her. Then she tugged on the door with both hands, leaning back with the pull. Nothing happened. The door remained sealed shut.

She had hoped by this point to be embracing Nicole and then lowering herself to the floor to a kneeling position. From there she would grovel at her feet, kissing the slender toes of her mistress. It would be clear that she was of lower station than Nicole and the situation would compel Nicole to command her for the first time. Nicole would take that first glorious step in putting Beth in submission.

She could not remember feeling this out of control in the past and feeling weak, vulnerable, and so needy. As recent as the last time, when she seduced Will, before he left for the trip, she was very much in control. She dominated both him and herself. In the past she was strong and had power over her urges and the desires of anyone she targeted. But in the presence of Nicole, Beth would be lowly and could only cry out for the girl’s soft touch and gentle glance.

I know. She’s probably just running late. It happens to the best of us. We oversleep or we get caught in traffic. No matter what, she’ll be here. I know she will.

Beth looked around anxiously but did not see any sign of the naive-looking lab assistant. She crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together to attempt to take the edge off the growing strain felt under her panties. The action failed to slow the arousal momentum. If anything, the strain grew more pronounced.

Where’s my Nicole? She’s not here. I can’t make her my mistress if she’s not here. What will I do? Crap! Think Beth, think! I’ve got to see Nicole AND I have to get off, soon. Real soon. Or I will lose my mind. Literally. I can go through Will’s porn stash and try to fix this. I know where he hides it. I looked through it. Now I’m glad that I never griped about it. There are some really hot women in those magazines… but… no, that won’t work. It’s not girl-on-girl stuff, and Nicole’s not in there. What about a collar…? A collar sounds good. So hot. Around my neck. Nicole would like that. But she still won’t be there. My mind is working in circles! None of this helps. She squeezed her thighs together again but still the arousal did not subside. Beth tugged at her top’s cloth collar as her breathing became more shallow. She became aware of the way the ends of her breasts rubbed through the thin shirt and against the interior lining of her jacket. She rolled her shoulders forward in a vain effort to stop the tortuous material stimulation of her nipples, but when she could not, she decided to remove the jacket entirely. Her skimpy top revealed her cleavage and midsection to the world. The shallow breathing led to feeling light-headed. She put a hand on the glass door and looked at the concrete surface below to help her dizziness fade.

She looked up to try and view beyond the sun-reflecting window again, hoping to pick-up any new movement, any sign of life. Again, she did not detect anything. She held her forehead against the glass and peered intensely for several long moments. Her hope was beginning to wane.

On top of that, the arousal-induced discomfort was beyond excruciating. If she was not standing outside, in plain view of every potential passerby, she would have slipped her hand down the front of her shorts and began rubbing herself, regardless of the unlikelihood of reaching complete satisfaction. The intense discomfort caused her mind to scramble.

I want the buzz-buzz again. I want Nicole’s tits. I need my Serena, my goddess. “Where is she!?” The budding addiction to Nicole’s presence wreaked havoc on her mental and emotional state. It also led to a continuous obsession with her sexuality and the ways to satisfy the cravings. The psycho-emotional state was so continuous that it was starting to feel normal to be this way. So this is nymphomania?

Moments before Beth gave in to the temptation to give herself a quick, discreet rub, Beth heard the welcome thumping sound of shoes hitting concrete. The thumps got louder as she was approached from behind. Relief, finally, she thought with a smile.

Not wanting to see her future mistress as some distorted reflection in the glass, Beth turned. She formed the sluttiest pout she could, figuring it was the best greeting for Nicole. The tone must be set, thought Beth.

“Nic—,” greeted Beth, before immediately stopping short of the girl’s full first name. During her turn, she clasped her hands behind her back, which thrust her chest forward. With her voluptuous chest, her thin waist, and lusty eyes, she intended to look vulnerable and innocent. Unfortunately, the young woman before her was not Nicole. Beth felt a wave of embarrassment creep over her. She froze, unable to speak.

“Well… hello there. Wow. That look would give every man, or any woman for that matter, a raging hard-on. And nice rack...you wear it… splendidly,” said the unexpected arrival. The woman’s response was outlandish and fit her uncommon attire. She was younger than Beth and wore a tight, light-blue cropped sweater of fuzzy material, a blue and tan pleated schoolgirl skirt that fell to her mid-thighs, and shiny black lace-up combat boots.

While Beth looked her over. While she appreciated the “I don’t give a damn” statement the woman made with her outfit, and it was clear the woman wasn’t bothered by anything, she felt immediate regret from her misdirected spontaneity. What a fool I am! How can she stand to look at me? How could she even want to be near me? she thought. It was out of character for Beth to care about what a random stranger thought of her.

“Hel… Hello,” said Beth. She looked down to hide her embarrassment and crossed her arms to hide the salacious nature of her top. It did little good. Her mind swirled in finding a way to recover with some dignity.

“Oh, don’t feel embarrassed. It was my fault. I snuck up on you. Besides, you do have a nice rack. It’s certainly worth showing off,” said the woman in an upbeat tone. “So, are you here for an appointment too?”

Beth heard the question but did not answer immediately. She retained her subdued posture as she thought about how to not screw up the second impression as she had the first. Her eyes left the ground and roamed up and down the blonde-haired woman, indiscreetly checking her out. Beth thought her face resembled that of the bubbly cheerleaders from her college days, tanned and soft, accustomed to smiling, promoting team spirit, and specializing in popularity. Many of them were in her sorority. Her eyes swept down the neck, shoulders, and top of her chest. Beth’s initial impression was that this was a physically strong woman. Then she took in the tasty view of six-pack etched over her stomach and hard, sweeping muscular thighs below the skirt. Beth thought she saw the sides of diamond-shaped calf muscles that curved into the combat boots, but it was difficult to see those gems from the front.

The woman was completely aware of her intrusive review and seemed to welcome the inspection.

With a spotlight shining solely on her, the woman smiled and shifted her hips. She ran both her hands through her straight, shoulder-length hair. The power in her upper arms expanded the sleeves of her tight fuzzy sweater, detailing the significant contours of her biceps.

“Wow,” said Beth, accidently saying what was on her mind. Her body reminded Beth of one of those fitness girls that she saw in the magazines, a combination of physical power and delicate femininity. Beth’s arousal-afflicted mind was communicating conflicting messages. I can’t stray. I’m here for Nicole.

“So, do you like what you see?” asked the woman. Beth hesitated in responding as the woman continued. “It takes a lot of effort to get this strong, but the program helped. Do you want to take a closer look?” The invitation was not frivolous. The woman meant what she said.

Beth hesitated. “Um… I… uh… sorry.” She averted her eyes. “Um, nobody seems to be here.” She felt new uneasiness as her arousal was being involuntarily redirected, away from Nicole. Beth hoped the new subject, their appointments at the lab, would help her arousal avoid further distraction. Unfortunately, this woman was like a magnet.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” said the woman with a pout. “I was really looking forward to today’s treatment. I’ve come so far in the program. I think it’s really improved me.” Again, the young woman lifted both of her arms to pull her hair back. This movement caused the cropped-style sweater to float upwards higher than before and exposed the black band of her bra. Beth lost her sense of self-awareness as she stared at the woman’s willing exposure of her body, consciously wishing the sweater would ride up further. As horny as she was, she could not drink in enough of the view.

“Me, too. A treatment. I’m here for that too,” said Beth. Her voice had little inflection as she was unwilling to peel her eyes from the woman’s body.

“You know, I’m sorry. I never told you my name,” said the woman. She reached out her hand.

Beth took her hand and quickly said “Oh, I’m Be—… sorry. I mean Dani.” She opted to use her false identity that she had been using for the lab visits. Beth was impressed with the girl’s strong grip. She’s strong. I’m nothing compared to her. I used to be strong and confident like that. I’ve changed. Now I’m just a soft and weak girl now, she consciously confirmed.

“Nice to meet you, Dani. I’m Jessica—Jessica O’Dell,” said the powerful slice of femininity. Tingles erupted in Beth’s stomach during the brief, innocent physical contact.

Oh, what is going on? Why am I feeling this way for Jessica, when I should only have these feelings for Nicole?

Beth became anxious about her chaotic desires. Where is Nicole? I really need her to save me. This woman affects me too much. If she suggests anything, I’m going to end up giving in, Beth thought. Beth’s cravings were consuming all of her thoughts and all of her will. Some part of her mind hinted she wanted to remain true to Nicole, but in reality she conceded she was too weak to stay faithful. In front of her stood a woman with the lustful combination of beauty and strength that Beth’s lust craved. She was the temptress, and it seemed that Jessica understood where this interaction was headed. She anxiously waited for Jessica to speak.

“It doesn’t look like the lab is open for business today,” said Jessica. As a soft breeze blew, Beth picked up a soft perfume fragrance coming off of the athletic beauty. Vanilla and jasmine. Vanilla Fields? Beth squirmed, shifting the weight from one foot to the other, as her lust did not subside. The scent was more scintillating than the Dolce Vita she had worn for this visit. I can’t be attracted to Jessica O’Dell. I just can’t!

“You know, Dani, I have to be real with you. This situation really stinks. I’m over in this part of town, far away from my place, and now I have no idea how to spend the rest of my morning,” said Jessica. She sighed loudly, but then smiled as she thought of a new plan. “But I bet you and I can figure out a way to make lemonade out of these lemons.” She returned Beth’s soft gaze and seemed to be focused on Beth’s dark red lips. She took a step closer to Beth and ran a presumptuous finger along the side of the less muscular woman’s arm. “You must have an idea of how a girl like me can spend a few hours….”

Beth noticed Jessica’s tone had become serious and much less naive. Is she really asking what I think she’s asking? But I do want to touch her, don’t I? Can I? Beth looked at Jessica’s chest as the woman’s finger trailed up and down her arm and then crossed her shoulder to glide along her collarbone. Beth was consumed in the Vanilla Fields fragrance.

Beth’s heart raced. “I don’t know. I kind of have a busy morning planned.” It was a lie.

“Are you sure?” Jessica said. Her fingers glided over Beth’s collarbone, a highly assertive touch. “I’m not sure what you would have planned since this was going to take all morning. You certainly got dressed for the full morning treatment.”

Beth looked down at herself, reminded of the inappropriate nature of the outfit she chose for the appointment. She felt her face flush as she was caught in the deception. “It’s just that, well, I’m kind of shy.” That’s mostly true with the way I feel this morning, she thought.

“I like shy. I have friends who are shy. Some guy friends, several girlfriends,” said Jessica. “Shyness is cute. Dani, there’s no problem with me, is there?” Jessica allowed Beth to cautiously place her hand on her arm. As Beth’s fingers soothed through the fuzzy sweater material covering her lower arm and proceeded to her upper arm, Jessica slowly curled her arm, trapping Nicole’s hand between her forearm and her bicep.

“But you don’t understand,” Beth murmured. “I’m… I’m committed to her… errrr, someone,” she said more quietly. “And I don’t want to mess that up.” Beth’s breathing jumped as she felt Jessica’s firm bicep. Jessica noticed the change.

Jessica responded with a smile and mirrored Beth’s softer tone. “Oh, well maybe there’s a misunderstanding here. You know, Dani, I can be too forward sometimes. It’s a thing I’m working on. Do you think I’m being too forward with you?”

I will need to be punished. I can’t stop myself, Nicole. I’m so sorry, Beth repented silently before responding.

“No, not too forward. Well… I don’t… know you… so, why… why don’t you come over to my place? It’s kind of close by and we… we can chat with each other. Just talking, of course. I can tell you about what the treatments are… doing… doing for me, and you can tell me about your experiences,” said Beth. “I’ll listen… we can compare notes.” Beth pulled her hand away and took a step back, but Jessica drew closer and closed the gap. Jessica reached up to move a stray strand of hair from Beth’s cheek, folding it behind her ear. Beth melted at the touch and leaned towards Jessica.

“So you’re inviting me to your place?” Jessica asked, still calmly stroking Beth’s hair.

Beth nodded. “We can talk about things, you know.”

“I’d like that,” Jessica replied. She brought her strong hand to gently sweep the side of Beth’s waist. An errant thumb grazed the bottom of Beth’s left breast. “I’d like to know you better. And you can get to know me. We’ll talk… like you said.”

I want to be loyal to mistress Nicole, but I can’t control these urges. This isn’t going to be good. And I can’t keep lying. But lying is the only way to get away from this temptation, from Jessica. I’m a mess, Beth stressed. But in the end, she couldn’t conjure another believable lie.

“Yeah, Jessica. That’s good. Look, I need a head start. I mean… um… give me a couple minutes to straighten things up at home,” said Beth as she wrote her address down on a scrap piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Jessica. She felt Jessica’s hand gently grip the side of her waist. An erotic rush traveled up and down her body.

“Of course, mysterious and shy Dani,” Jessica grinned. “I’ll make a stop to get something to eat before getting to your place. It’s like fifteen minutes out of the way. That should give you enough time, right?”

Beth nodded. She felt the need to press herself against Jessica. Before she could get closer, Jessica pulled away and turned to head to her car, leaving Beth alone at the doors. She stood in the quiet as she gazed at the back of the younger woman’s legs. The active, taut hamstrings and the powerful calves teased her.

When Beth returned to her car, she slowly unlocked the door, while still looking at Jessica who happened to be parked only two spaces away. The strong woman had opened the door of her own car and reclined into the driver’s seat with her feet hanging to the side as she spoke into her car phone. As she opened her own door, Beth overheard parts of the conversation. “As you expected,” she said into the receiver. “That’s right, and we’re… her place. That took… convincing. Anyway… she’s such a lovely thing… trophy, just like you said,” After a moment, Jessica swung her legs in, shut the door, hung up the phone, put the car in gear, and pulled out of the parking spot.

Beth didn’t care to decipher what she heard. She finished getting in her car and headed to her place, a willing prey for a stunning predator.

“Hey, Will. Umm, this is Nicole. I don’t feel good today and won’t be at the lab. You know, girl issues. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow… maybe… well, probably… okay. Bye,” said Nicole. She felt good leaving the requisite message on Will’s office answering machine. She doubted he was checking his messages wherever he was at, but as a his employee, she had to cover her bases.

The question of whether he was alive or not, or whether she was going insane, wreaked havoc on Nicole’s mind. In response, her mood was a tornado of conflicting emotions, both volatile and unpredictable. At this time a cornerstone of her personality—namely emotional stability—was missing in action. She had always taken pride in her objective logic and the ability to remove emotion from the situation, but none of that was part of her life today. She had no proof anything had happened, but she was sure something horrible happened to her mentor, the notable Dr. Freeman.

Without logic, reason, or emotional stability to mentally stand on, Nicole retreated into a shell of misery, waiting for the clarity to determine her next response. She threw on a grey, university-licensed sweatshirt that proudly displayed their wolf-outlined logo and charcoal-colored sweatpants to replace yesterday’s outfit that she slept in overnight. She felt too out-of-sorts to wear either a bra or panties. Going commando would be the order for now.

Normally, she did the simple routine of applying foundations, concealer, powder, blush on her face, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara, with lip color for the finishing touch. (She loved wearing Clinique’s Almost Lipstick in Black Honey.) Now she lacked the energy to do anything to improve her hair or her face, so she tied her hair back in a ponytail and left her face alone. Now that she was dressed and left without another task, she wandered around her room aimlessly. Over the space of many minutes, she sat on her bed and stared at the walls with no thoughts in her mind. Then she lay on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. She let time float by. Her feelings about her direction in life swirled chaotically.

What’s the point? Why go on? How long can I do nothing, and even if I did something, what’s the point of that? And who am I without him, worthless little me?

Nicole thought about the way she and Will worked together at the lab. She remembered how overjoyed she was on the day she received a phone call from Will, a scientist with a great reputation, telling her that she was selected to be his research assistant. For the first six months she was very happy working at the lab. The greatness of the name “Will Freeman” slowly lost its luster as she got to know him better. He slowly degraded to “boss” with a little bit of the “admirable mentor” shine thrown in. Then she began to notice his flaws. They included things like the pen-tapping on the desktop when he was in deep thought, his frequent unnecessary nervousness, and the coffee-heavy breath every mid-morning when he stopped at her area to check on her. These days, Will Freeman was a normal guy that she worked for. Once his quirks became a source of irritation, his prestige had faded completely.

Then she recalled in fleeting glimpses what happened while she was in Empathy: She joined in the testing of a male subject, and while in an uncontrollable fit of sexual passion, she pushed the subject’s physical limits, beyond any degree a scientist would consider necessary. Deep within Empathy’s artificially-fabricated world, she approached her situation as a test and the male subject as merely a prop. As the test caused the subject to flat-line on the heart rate monitor and appear to die, she was in the throws of heightened lust and focused only on the enjoyment of her own orgasm. She barely recalled noticing anything that she recognized about the hairy male subject. That was true, until he was being rolled out of the area and she saw the peculiar marks on his neck. That was when she began believing that the male subject was actually her academic mentor.

Since that incident she had wrestled with her emotions: guilt, anger, and sadness being the most prominent feelings. At the same time, she had creeping doubts about the veracity of what she observed. Empathy was meant to provide extremely realistic physical experiences for the patient. The physiological, mental, and emotional conditioning that happened to patients was substantive and was expected to have lasting impact on them. Empathy, in its current configuration, manufactured a virtual reality that induced positive changes on female patients. Those change led to the intended results of becoming more powerful versions of themselves. It functioned to create undeniable realities that produced changes that overrode their present limitations.

Her self-discoveries scared her to her core. Her inability to come to the aid of someone in trouble led to feelings of guilt. She wanted to pass Serena’s test, but when things got too far, she was unable to do anything except give in to the lust that consumed her. The test had tapped into her weaknesses and trapped her. Once those lines were crossed, she was helpless to break out of the test. That realization did not assuage her guilty feelings though.

Initially, Nicole was not concerned with any potential moral conflict while being in service to Serena. At the minimum, Serena was the all-powerful being contained within Empathy. The concepts of “good” and “evil” did not exist within the programming, but “strong” and “weak” did. If Serena did exist beyond the world of Empathy, as Nicole was convinced she did, then it was safe to assume she applied the same rules as in virtual reality.

Then she thought of Dani, who lavished erotic love on her at the lab yesterday. I may have lost Will, but Dani’s still here. Maybe she’s my new reason for going on with life.

Her mind switched gears again and focused on her immediate present. How long had she lay there? She had no desire to look at a clock. A familiar voice was calling from the kitchen in the floor below her upstairs bedroom. Maybe she should respond. After several moments, she found the strength to leave her room and made her way downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she mumbled acknowledgement to Brenda, who was working in the kitchen. Lunchtime had passed, and a bowl of cereal didn’t sound appetizing, so Nicole accepted Brenda’s offer of a blended health shake for her first meal of the day.

“Thanks,” said Nicole as Brenda gave her a glass nearly overflowing with the frothy mixture. Her mouth had begun watering when the blender started processing the mixture of ice, milk, powder, and whatever else Brenda included in them. The Pavlovian response had her salivating by the time she eagerly received the reward. The origin of the physiological response would have baffled her for at least a moment, if she hadn’t stopped caring about such insignificant curiosities.

“Brenda, I think...” said Nicole before stopping mid-sentence. The first gulp of the shake was refreshing. She felt calm almost immediately. The flavor was a combination of watermelon and strawberry, and she eagerly drank more. It was smooth and satisfying. After another odd pause, she took another deep drink from the glass, savoring the calming beverage.

“Yes, dear. You were saying that you had a thought,” Brenda said as she turned away from the sink where she was cleaning the blender to look more intently at Nicole. She put both hands on the table and leaned toward Nicole. The fairly attractive thirty-nine-year-old matron of the sorority house had always been a motherly figure in Nicole’s life. They had deep, meaningful conversations when she was in undergrad, during times of trouble with her former boyfriend, and also when Nicole was weighing the option of working at the lab while carrying a graduate student level class-load. Brenda encouraged her to accept the lab assistant position once it was offered to her. Because of the matron’s consistent help and support, Nicole had a high level of respect for Brenda. Now, she needed Brenda’s advice once again.

At this moment, however, the respect from the past mattered little when compared to her swirling emotional state and the exhilaration from recent forays into lesbian love. Today, Nicole’s mind was unhinged and she was thinking about Brenda in a completely different way. First, Nicole stared at the way Brenda’s jeans were clinging nicely to her rounded butt. Like all girls who compare themselves to others, she noticed other women’s butts before, but never with a tint of lust. Then she thought about what it would feel like to put her hands on Brenda’s rear, to run her hands up and down over the soft curves, and to squeeze the butt cheeks in the frenzy of sexual hunger. Nicole looked at Brenda’s sleeveless green button-down top which was made to accentuate her womanly curves, a fashion choice common for Brenda. Also, she stayed physically attractive through a regular regimen of Pilates and running, and some time at the gym. This time, Brenda had unbuttoned the top to create a deep V in the front. Nicole wondered if Brenda had done that for her as her eyes dwelled overtly on the exposed Wonderbra-enhanced cleavage for several moments before she responded to Brenda’s question about her thought.

“Oh. Yeah. Umm, I think something bad happened,” said Nicole. Now that she broached the subject, she felt more anxious. She would sound like a crazy person if she talked about what she had seen and experienced earlier. But who can I trust if I can’t trust Brenda? she thought. She felt her body temperature increase in spite of the calming beverage she just finished.

“Something happened... to you?” asked Brenda with a concerned tone.

Nicole was aware of her small, unrestrained breasts shifting underneath her grey sweatshirt as she stood up from her chair. She initially felt like pacing to gather her thoughts, but her feet remained in place. Nervous energy was surging through her as she formed her response.

“No, not to me. I think something might have happened to Will… err, Doctor Freeman,” said Nicole. She was feeling more anxious by the minute due to her internal stress. Is it getting hotter in this room? she wondered.

“Your boss? At the lab? What do you think happened to him?” Brenda asked. She paused to watch Nicole, who didn’t immediately respond to her question. “Oh, darling, you seem really bothered by it,” said Brenda. “Look at you.”

Brenda continued. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. You’re such a safe, conscientious girl. Nothing crazy happens in your life. Why would it now? Everyone here knows how predictable and steady you are. You avoid risk like no one else. Nobody could be put in danger because of you.”

“I think he might be hurt, really bad,” said Nicole. “And I may have done something to cause it.” Nicole refused to concede death was a possibility. Saying he was merely “hurt” was much easier to digest. The chance she may never seeing him again was too hard to handle.

“Like I said, I’m sure it’s nothing. At least nothing connected to you. If you think it’s serious, would you feel better if we called the police?” asked Brenda.

“No. No, we don’t need to do that. No, you’re probably right,” said Nicole. “I’m just really shook up about it.” Law enforcement would never understand her explanation of how she acquired information on Will’s whereabouts. There would be too many questions and, if this was how she did with Brenda’s gentle inquiry, how much more would she crumble under law enforcement’s scrutiny? What she needed now was someone to comfort her.

Then her unstable mind flipped on her. Nicole immediately focused on what Brenda had said before Nicole summarized her worry.

Am I really that boring? Is my life nothing special, like she said? Nicole wondered. Her thoughts became self-absorbed, and she went along for the detour. And when she gave weight to the perception that Brenda and the other girls in the house had of her, she felt additional stings of depression. She allowed the seeds of depression to slowly take root as she saw hope fade from her life, no way of being rescued from the malaise or this mess.

“Ok. Well, what did you do in all of this, sweetie?” said Brenda. She walked over and stood facing her, putting her hands on Nicole’s shoulders. After Nicole did not reply, she continued. “Listen, whatever it is, I’m sure we can get through it together. I’m here for you. You know that.” Brenda’s hands slowly rubbed the tops of Nicole’s shoulders in a soothing way. In that moment, it felt like a caress. Like a touch that could lead to something else. Nicole’s mind wandered. Her nipples hardened as they rubbed against the soft inside material of her light grey sweatshirt. She closed her eyes and relaxed under Brenda’s soothing touch.

“Can you tell me more? What exactly happened?” said Brenda. She did not seem to mind Nicole’s subdued physical response to the way she was touching the girl’s shoulders.

“No, not now. Too hard to explain. I just need you to be with me, to listen. I’m confused,” said Nicole. “And this is nice. So relaxing.” She opened her eyes, looked at Brenda, and let her view drop to Brenda’s V-neck bordered cleavage. Subtly, she leaned towards those attractive mounds.

“Oh, my poor baby,” said Brenda. She pulled Nicole into an embrace and allowed the girl’s face to lay against her chest, level with her collarbone. Nicole felt a strong appeal to the skin-on-skin contact and the warmth of the embrace washed over her. She was susceptible to anything that could be interpreted to have sensual overtones.

Brenda has nice tits... wait… what am I thinking… well, I need… I need to be subtle… subtle about what exactly… well, I could sneak a feel of them right now and to know what hers are like. Does she want me to do that? Why wouldn’t she? She’s already rubbing my shoulders and holding me close. It would be the next step, right? It would make sense.

The fact that her small, unrestrained breasts were pressing up against Brenda’s torso caused tingles to run through her core as her addled mind tried to consider the benefits and drawbacks of her future options.

Even if she isn’t ready for this, she’ll never notice. I can just reach up here… so… slowly, thought Nicole as she slid her right hand up her side to the proximity of Brenda’s left breast. She paused. Then she slowly opened her hand and slid upward, allowing the breast’s weight to settle past her fingers into her palm naturally. Her breast felt amazing. There was an erotic satisfaction unique to feeling another woman’s breast in her hand and Nicole revelled in the waves of arousal that churned in her.

Losing sight of the necessity for subtlety and emboldened by the absence of a negative response, she turned her head and allowed her lips to brush against Brenda’s cleavage. Before her brain could carefully weigh the pros and cons of her next move, she planted a small kiss between the mounds. That was done with far less concealment than what she did before.

“Uh, sweetie..Honey, what are you… are you okay?” asked Brenda as she jumped and then quickly backed away. Her outstretched arms filled the space between the two and her palms were pushing against Nicole. “We can’t… I mean, you shouldn’t… Oh, my…. stop… just stop.”

Brenda was flustered. She ran her hands through her hair and began murmuring incoherently. It took a full minute for her to compose herself before speaking again. “You need to know, Nicole, that I’m not like that. I mean, I’m okay with harmless flirting or whatever, but no, no, nothing like that, nothing more than shoulder rubs. Maybe you’re finding yourself or whatever and need a friend. I can help you in a lot of ways, like studies, or work, or friends, but not that way. I don’t deal with sex… sexuality.”

“Oh, Brenda… I just thought that we were, you know or… you were liking it… I mean,” said Nicole.

“Oh, no we weren’t,” said Brenda. Her volume had increased and her mannerisms changed. She was no longer the friend that Nicole knew. “I know there’s been some weird girl-on-girl stuff going on around here, but I’m not going to get turned like everyone else. They pay me good, but not that good. That’s not part of the deal. If they think that I’m going to be some lesbo hooker and eventually fall for the trap, they can shove it. They can shove the whole frickin’ deal.”

Nicole had never seen Brenda so worked up. She decided the safest option was to backtrack. Brenda was speaking gibberish. “Brenda, sorry about… I didn’t mean to… I don’t know what to say,” said Nicole. Her eyes teared up, as the hurt was rising to the surface. This was too much to handle and not the way things should be going.

“Look, sweetie, there’s stuff going on that you don’t know about. You’re supposed to be the safe, boring one, Nicole. You’re the conservative, cautious girl in this house and not one that feels me up when I’m giving you a hug,” said Brenda.

Nicole felt her heart breaking. “It was an accident, okay. Just an accident. I thought something that wasn’t...I didn’t… I….”

Brenda kept going. The motherly façade faded away in Nicole’s eyes. “It was not an accident. It was a mistake; it was not okay. They’re messing with you girls, but you, Nicole. You need to get your head straight. I’m not putting up with this anymore—things are going too far around here. It’s them and you. I...I… I… don’t want to look at you right now. I need you to leave the kitchen. Please, while I figure this out. Please. Now! Just go!”

Nicole left the cold glass on the table and fled the room without looking back. She scurried up the stairs. What’s going on with her? Or is it me? What is wrong with me? It was just an innocent touch. Did she really need to treat me that way?

As she approached her bedroom door, Nicole allowed her emotions to run rampant. There was no reason to hide them while she was in her room, no one to hide them from. The other girls would not be able to hear her after she closed the door.

“Argh!” she screamed in anger. The circumstances were overwhelming her. “Why me? Why me? Why…?” Cries of rage alternated with tears of sadness as she fell onto the bed, her face buried into the soft pillow. She felt despondent about her part in Will’s predicament and unable to respond. She also felt anger at the fierce and unwelcome reaction from Brenda, and strangely disappointed in discovering she was perceived as boring by the others. In the eyes of this emotional storm, Nicole felt alone. She was isolated as she faced the situation.

Nicole attempted to segregate the issues in her mind. She held no contempt for Will. He was not the saint she initially thought him to be before she worked at the lab, but he was a decent person. She had seen, and heard stories of, bad guys her friends had worked for, and Will was not like any of them. He was a man, however, and as a general rule, men could not be trusted. Serena convinced her of this truth.

And he had secrets, just like everyone else. But she was sure that Will held a very sensitive secret. In fact, it was a secret that had an effect on his marriage and could affect his standing in the scientific community, if exposed. She recalled those red marks around his neck and felt a mental shudder. She had a theory of what could have made those marks. He wore a collar. The idea of a man being compelled to wear a collar did not repulse her. In the darkest recesses of her mind, the scenario intrigued her. She had even played it out once or twice. Someday, if I have a man around, he’ll have to wear one of those to stay with me. It will be a requirement in our long-term relationship. Then she had another, somewhat illuminating, thought.

What if I am a full-blown lesbian? She thought about the “mistake” she had just made in the kitchen. It felt right to touch her, she was interpreting all the signals as acceptance, which led to the utter shock at Brenda’s reaction. Why would she do that? She had never yelled at me like that before, she thought.

“Well, shoot.” Nicole intended to cuss, but remnants of her old proprietary halted the expletive. “I’m really tired of all this. I’m tired of being this,” she said, looking down at herself. “Of being me.” She threw up her hands in exasperation. Then she looked at herself in the large wall mirror. “Maybe it all starts with me. I’m broken. Why can’t I be different? Is it because I don’t look different?”

She grabbed the bottom hem of her sweatshirt, yanked it off, and stared at her bare torso. Her small, pale breasts barely hung away from her chest, creating just a sliver of shadow underneath. Her powder-white skin covered slight stomach ridges which were visible due to her low body fat levels, not to genetic giftedness or physical effort. “It IS me. I AM the problem. Brenda wouldn’t accept me because I look like this. Geez! I have the chest of a boy! Maybe if I was beautiful, she’d accept me, but I’m not. I’m this. Gross. Gross. Gross. This is sickening.” Tears welled up in her eyes again as she sat on the bed’s edge. “I would give anything to change all of this.” They formed streams that blazed down her cheeks moments later.

She let the tears flow for a while, but they soon became a source of emotional exhaustion. Desperate for a distraction from her meltdown, she looked around the room. Nicole looked to the side of her room and saw the box laying on the floor. She recalled opening it the night before, briefly looked over the item it contained, and setting it back into the container before retreating to bed and restless sleep. She considered putting it on, but had second thoughts due to loyalty. She knew they would want her to wait for instructions. But that was yesterday’s Nicole, the safe one. Now, she felt there was nothing to lose. Why care about expectations? My life is a dumpster fire, a total hell, she thought. Things have to be done differently to get different results.

Fuck them all! Nicole was stunned by her own words. Her mind halted.

Oh dear, did I really do that? Why would I cuss like that? Or is that the new me?

Then, as if on cue, depression returned to the forefront of Nicole’s emotions. Well, maybe she wasn’t as bad off as she seemed. And maybe she wasn’t seeing reality clearly due to her stress level. As a test, she looked into the mirror and formed a sexy face. Well, she tried. It came off as comical. It backfired. Who was she kidding? She was boring and a complete social loser. She had always done what others expected and it got her nowhere. When she realized there was no redeeming value in the effort, she said, “That’s it. I’m tired of following rules. I’m tired of being walked over by everyone and doing only what they want me to do. Screw Brenda. Screw Will. Screw everyone. It’s time to end this shit. From now on, not only will I do what I want. I’ll make them do what I want too.”

She peered over at the opened box and approached it. Her mind was made up. She would no longer follow their guidance. It was time to make her own way. Putting on this thing, even though they would want her to wait, would be the next step in blazing her own path. She would be proving that she is in charge of her life now.

She picked up the box and brought it back to her bed. She pulled out the dark suit and held it up for viewing. Time to venture into the wilder side… where I belong, she thought. And this will be part of my new life.

She found a single, nondescript tag pinned to the inside of the outfit. She unclasped the safety pin and read the small words on the soft card. “Reminder: Suit must be prepped before wearing” was the first statement in blue print. Underneath the statement, in handwritten script, Nicole read, “Nicolette, I think you’re ready for change. This will help you be the woman that I require you to be. I can’t wait for you to fully engage in my cause.”

We’ll see about that. I’m tired of listening to other people. I’ll decide if your cause is worth joining! It felt good to lash out at everyone in her mind. She wasn’t ready to say that out loud though. Not yet.

After reading the handwritten note, she looked at the printed instructions. Nicole skimmed through it, eager to take the next daring step. She did not care that she was moving on without explicit approval. This was living life to the fullest. She was a rebel. She was a risk-taker. Hot, sexy girls like me ignore the consequences was to be her new mantra.

The small paper went on to address other matters of interest like, “the outfit is designed to be worn nearly all time”, “when prepared properly it will feel like a second skin”, and “when it’s time, apply the lube generously.” In contrast to what she would have done in the past, Nicole assumed she could figure out the rest on her own without reading the rest of the instructions. She discarded the tag onto the floor as she looked more closely at the outfit itself.

Most parts of the outfit were made of vinyl. The material was shiny, wet-looking, and felt like plastic under her fingers. The front was fashioned like a dominatrix teddy. It was a unique combination of vinyl, stretchy spandex straps, and tight small-hole fishnet. During her top-to-bottom examination, Nicole found the collar was attached to four black flat straps that connected it to the bustier piece. One pair of the straps led to the top of the triangular soft-molded breast cups and the other pair to the inward edges. The edges that bordered the cups were lined with unusually thick seams. The surface of the cups felt smooth under her fingertips. The bustier ended just below the cups and merged into a wide band that traversed the middle of the front torso.

At about mid-stomach, the vinyl material narrowed more as it was inset by fishnet “wings” on both sides. On the vinyl surface between the insets, there was a trail of three metallic spikes. Nicole assumed they were decorative. The fishnet was severely cinched inward, like a corset, and covered the entire lower back and sides of the wearer, but left the upper and lower portions of the front torso below the bustier exposed. The wider vinyl strap resumed past the spikes to a sensually curved belt-like strap that encircled the waist.

The complexity of the piece continued with the bottom portion. Instead of the more fashionable G-string design, a pair of straps emerged from the sides of the waist straps and looped down, under the buttocks, to the lower back end of the front base cover, or gusset. At the front, the wide vinyl strap continued down the front of the wearer’s groin and ended less than half of the way between the legs before splitting into the stretchy vinyl butt cheek straps.

Nicole noticed a small, hidden tip on the inside of the gusset. At first she thought the bump was the result of manufacturing error. It was nearly flush with the edge of the thick-walled groin cup. Again, she ran her finger over the bump. What is that for? she wondered. Regardless, it seemed too small to make any difference to the wearer. She shouldn’t feel it.

Nicole also saw a tiny, mostly-concealed tube running through the material seams from the front of the outfit at the gusset, up the middle of the torso, and to the seams of both bustier cups. Nicole turned the outfit around. Looking at the front under the vinyl in the groin area, she found the curved malleable shell that made up the gusset seemed to be a centralized port of some type. All lines, tubes, and seams originated at that area. Near one side of the shell, Nicole noticed a soft rubber tap that covered an opening labeled “FILL” in tiny print.

Her attention then returned to the one-inch wide collar decorated with pyramid-shaped glass nodes. When they caught the errant sliver of sunlight that peeked through the window blinds, they refracted the light into a spectrum of different colors. As for structure, the collar was not the belt-and-buckle style. Instead, it was split in two parts, to be connected and made whole by the wearer, encircling the neck.

The suit as a whole was unique. Nicole could sense the outfit’s animalistic nature as it merged with a bit of the glamor from the prismatic nodes around the collar. Is that the new me? Is it a sign? As she wondered, she began to feel good about taking on the qualities of the suit and making them part of her own new personality.

It was time to get down to business. Before she began to put the outfit on, Nicole located two smaller cardboard boxes tucked away in the corners of the larger box. The first contained a bottle of lubricant. Recalling the instructions to apply lubricant generously, she made an educated guess as to where to apply it. She held the lowest part of the groin cup before squeezing the bottle, proceeding to squirt the fluid all over the cup and the bump. She put the bottle down and spread the slick sweet-smelling fluid with her index finger over the whole inner surface. The lubricant had a cooling sensation on her skin and smelled like cinnamon. She wondered if it was edible. She licked her finger it to be sure, and after finding the taste was pleasant, she began licking her finger like a lollipop.

As she was enjoying the taste of the lube, she noticed the small pin-prick holes on and around the bump. Uncharacteristically, her mind was not able to generate any theory for them to be located there, and she did not dwell on the matter more than that moment. She felt an odd sense of happiness and enthusiasm. Because of that excitement, she could only think about the big picture—getting the suit on.

Inside the other small box were three 10 milliliter medical syringes, taped down and each filled with a light blue liquid. None of the syringes indicated what was inside, but the fluid looked very similar to what she had seen applied to the man’s intravenous tube during her Empathy trip. She felt a little apprehension, but happiness and trust in her new way of doing things overwhelmed any trepidation she had about the liquid. Nicole removed one of the syringes, tapped it lightly as she assumed she needed to do, watched the air bubbles pop. Pop! Pop! Pop! Then she picked up the outfit again and plunged the needle into the “FILL” tap. She depressed the plunger and all ten milliliters were easily deposited. When she removed the needle, the top self-sealed and secured all of the liquid. Not a drop was lost.

Nicole took a deep breath. Her heart pounded within her chest. The time had come. Nicole stood up, held the lingerie in front of her, and stepped into the leg strap loops of the bottom portion. She set the straps under her butt cheeks, finding the fit very snug and close to her form, and guided the rest of the shell into place. As she pulled the constricting fishnet up around her waist, she felt the tiny bump of the shell rub against her sex. The pressure of the contact was more significant than she had expected.

“Ohhh,” she mewed as her hyper-sensitive sex reacted. “It’s good, Nicole. It’s good. It’s good,” she reassured herself after fleeting concerns of getting caught in the act of defiance flew through her mind. Her arousal climbed a notch following the erotic disturbance, helping the fear-induced thoughts dissolve.

The vinyl waist strip pulled up high above her butt cheeks, leaving them completely exposed. The material slid up against the sides of her waist and began to cinch the sides of her stomach inwards. Once that part was in place, it became more difficult to breathe.

As she brought the bustier up to her chest, Nicole noticed the inside of the cups had white-print guides indicating where the wearer’s nipples were to be placed. She pulled up the breast cups and manipulated her small amount of breast flesh to align her nipples into the area indicated inside the cup. Surprisingly, it took a very small amount of effort, reinforcing her belief that the cups, and all the other aspects of the suit, were custom-designed for her.

Lastly, she reached around, brought the back half of the collar up to the back of her neck, and brought the front half to meet it. The catch and clasp was simpler than what was found on most necklaces and required only a little effort. After it was around her neck, she felt the edges of the material beginning to rub into her skin. It was really tight. The rest of the suit was comfortable, so the irritation surprised her.

Just a small thing. I can handle it. I’m not the girl I was before. That Nicole was safe, cautious, predictable… a loser! She was a loser. I am no longer her.

After all the effort, the suit was finally on her body. The entire ensemble felt as if she was encased in a shell. She looked in the mirror and noticed she had almost forgotten the final step. She looked closely at the front of the base near her groin area. At an inch above the location of her pubic bone hung two exposed lines, soft two-millimeter-thick tubes encased in plastic, one ending with an, rectangular—shaped metal insert and the other with a small open receiving end. It was technology that Nicole had not seen before, but she had an idea on what to do with it. She pushed the metal insert into the receiving end and a tiny red LED lit up near the connection location. Eureka! The success in figuring out how to activate this device provided a nice sense of accomplishment. She rarely experienced that kind of thrill outside of Will’s lab. Things were definitely looking up.

Nicole looked again to her reflection in the large wall mirror. She considered the image of her natural, ponytailed hair and body contained in a custom-made vinyl ensemble. It seemed the suit altered her appearance to something darker than what she was in the past. At least, she hoped so. Was this going to be the new Nicole? Was she going to be a domme? Was her reflection convincing enough?

She frowned. No, it was not. She didn’t look the part. She looked like a lowly submissive that snuck into her dominatrix’s closet for some fashion fun. As much as she liked the outfit, her body did not match the image it projected. She had fallen short again.

“Feels nice to wear, but that’s it, I guess,” she said as she walked over to her bed. She picked up the empty box and returned it to its former place along the wall. The miniscule bump rubbed noticeably against her sex with each step. That was enough reason to keep wearing the suit, but she had failed. “Nothing’s going on,” she said to herself again. The suit was just pretty, but not anything special. She felt a bit of a letdown, but also a tinge of relief.

“So, I guess there’s no consequences to getting it out early. No electric shock, no punishment. Good. And I guess I’m in charge now,” said Nicole as she looked into the mirror. “You cannot control me.” Saying it out loud felt good. “You cannot control ME! Woohoo!” She raised her hands in triumph, rubbing it in the world’s face, but her victory felt empty. What had she won after all of this emotional strife? The ability to break into a box, that was sent to her, to try on a suit before she got permission?

A minute later, the phone by her bed rang, causing Nicole to jump. Her heart jumped in her throat as she stood stunned. Once she caught her breath, she walked over to her nightstand. Nicole ignored the tangled cord and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“She will meet with you now. Log on and meet with her at the site within three minutes,” said the commanding female on the other side of the line. The end of the line clicked dead before Nicole could respond. She thought the caller sounded like Cynthia, the assistant she had met in Empathy, but chose not to dwell that trivial matter. Instead, she focused on the instructions.

She decided to ignore the small voice that screamed “Oh, oh my goodness. What are you doing?” and instead decided to be bold. But the voice kept on. “This isn’t you. You’re not ready. Really, really not ready.”

As she sat in front of her computer, she verified that her five computer cameras were turned on and were active as she initiated the machine. They were provided by her mistress and of the highest grade technology. There was one on each side of the monitor that focused on her face, another pair focused on her chest area, and one underneath the computer desk. That one was specially designed to record in low or no light conditions and focused on her waist and legs. At the start of their relationship, Serena sent the cameras and demanded complete visual access to Nicole’s body during these encounters. Nicole always complied.

After her computer booted up, she went to her home page, PetsRUs-dot-web. On that page she clicked on the yellow labrador puppy in the lower right part of the screen. That action took her to the outdoor accessories page of TomorrowLady-dot-web where she clicked on the fabric of the yellow bubble umbrella on the lower left of the page. She was then whisked off to OfficeSuppliesWeHave-dot-web and clicked on the maroon Swingline stapler in the center of the page. That action took her to MidwestLawnOrnaments-dot-web to click on the polished white sundial, which took her to FarEastCrafts-dot-web where she clicked on the turquoise-dyed yarn in the background. Immediately the screen went blank except for an MS-DOS style “Enter?” box that floated at the center of the screen. She moved her mouse’s cursor and clicked on the box to affirm entry into the site.

The word faded and the view on Nicole’s monitor was soon dominated by a wide, half-foot tall crystalline base, illuminated by strong off-screen lighting. The excessive brightness and resulting reflections caused everything behind the base to be enveloped in darkness. Nicole’s eyes strained to adjust to what she was seeing.

The view moved closer to the broad, clear object, which Nicole determined to be a platform of some kind, upon which she noticed droplets emerging from its surface. Looks like it’s melting, thought Nicole. The scene reminded Nicole of a prior online meeting with Serena when her entire view was focused on drops of sweat trailing down the chest of one of Serena’s thralls.

Nicole’s mind began to feel tired and sluggish as her eyes dwelled on the mysterious fluid. She did not fight the mental shadow that was closing over her. A droplet was slowly moving down the edge’s surface of the cylindrical platform. Nicole’s eyes stared intently at it and her restricted breathing rate slowed further. Her awareness fell in line with the slow, calm image before her. Low hums subtly emerged from her computer’s speakers. Moments later, clear voices were speaking over the sound of the hums. Her mind easily welcomed the voices. She wanted to trust them.

“Mm, so still,” said a female voice. Another distinct voice said, “You want to be still. Frozen, frozen, frozen in place.” Still another, more mature female voice said, “Nicole is such a good girl, never moving.” Then the first voice spoke again, “Her eyes move, and she can speak, but her body is a statue.” “It’s so good,” said the second voice. The voices coming through her speakers seemed like they were whispering right into her ears.

Nicole liked what they told her. They spoke to her over and over, calming her and instructing her on what to do with her body. They allowed her to let her hand fall onto her lap and to slowly lean back in her chair to get comfortable. But from that position, Nicole would not want to move. She would stay still. It felt good to stay still. She would be frozen. Other than the movement of her eyes, and slight facial reactions, and speaking when necessary, her mistress did not want her to move.

The warmth of obedience wrapped around Nicole like a blanket. Now she felt regret for her rebellious outbursts. She felt guilt for grasping at power over her life, a life that only Serena should have control over. Even the subtlest suggestion felt from the voices like an outright command. She felt the collar tightening around her neck and embraced the thoughts of a submissive. She was a good, obedient girl. She was so still. She was frozen.

Her eyes continued to capture the amorphous objects that were on the screen: multiple droplets slipping off the sloped sides of the platform caused by what appeared to be result of melting ice. If someone else was in the room, Nicole would have seemed a silent, reclining girl with her eyes fully affixed to her computer screen. She appeared to be doing nothing significant. But to Nicole, she was doing everything she ever wanted to be doing at that very moment. She was feeling maximum fulfillment.

While tracking the droplets with her eyes, Nicole lost all sense of time. Then she heard the voice of the one she adored. “Nicolette, my girl of ice.” She loved the pet name that Serena used. The words echoed fervently and then faded to oblivion, as though spoken in a deep stone cavern. Then a female chorus chanted, “Girl of ice, girl of ice...”. Nicole’s ownership of herself, expressed in the form of a short-term rebellion, was drowning beneath a flood of suggestions. The rebel persona she thought she wanted over the last couple hours was being suffocated before it could thrive. Now her whole existence was subjugated to the wishes of the one who was about to appear before her. Nicole’s whole being was given over to be molded by the beautiful sculptor.

More droplets fell from the rounded edge of the ice platform. Next, the camera gradually moved upwards from the platform’s sloped sides and pulled away, giving Nicole a more encompassing view . She remained still. After several long moments, the lower part of what appeared to be an ice sculpture was revealed. It was an icy pair of feet. Nicole did not allow herself to twitch.

The gradual revelation continued as the lower legs and then thighs were exposed. The revelation that the sculpture was a nude was alluring. The statue appeared to be made from the same material as the platform. It appeared to be a woman older than Nicole. Like a low-budget Renaissance statue, she was very plain in form. Her body was not worth another glance. However, something about the shape of the statue intrigued Nicole.

The answer hit Nicole’s mind like a ton of bricks. She looked intently at the face and realized that it was a nude statue of Brenda. The entire thing was made of an ice-like substance and was positioned very similar to the way she appeared in the kitchen. It was nearly an exact copy of Brenda from the moment after she rejected Nicole. “I don’t want to look at you right now,” was the last thing Brenda said before Nicole fled the kitchen. The sour memory caused Nicole to want to grit her teeth.

“I know that you’re thinking about what she said to you,” said her mistress. “When you recognized her image, you recalled the words that stung and wounded you and the way she rejected you.” Nicole felt so overwhelmed as Serena sympathized with her that she never thought to ask how Serena knew about the argument in the kitchen. She merely assumed her goddess on earth knew everything that was necessary to know, especially about her followers.

Nicole pondered on Brenda’s harsh words and reaction. I thought we were close. I thought we were friends… and to hate on me like that.

Then she considered their history. She’s like a second mother to me. She’s always been there for me.

Nicole thought back to her freshman year at school and the fights she had with some of the sorority girls after she was initiated. Nicole and a few other girls traded verbal barbs over shower use, clothes, and partying. She was constantly under attack that year. Brenda helped Nicole feel secure in her own skin, by helping her figure out what was best for herself. And when her grades suffered in her junior year after she broke up with her boyfriend, Brenda helped her regain her confidence and her focus to finish the year strong. Finally, during the time when she was making the decision to accept Dr. Freeman’s offer to be his research assistant, Brenda was a guiding hand and good counsel.

When times were tough, she helped me get back on my feet. This sudden change, this cruelty, must be a misunderstanding. Maybe I’m not seeing things right. She doesn’t... she can’t hate me.

“Now you’re probably thinking about giving her the benefit of the doubt. That maybe you didn’t read her right. You’ll place the blame on some miscommunication. Or maybe she thought you were doing something other than what you were really doing,” said Serena. “Don’t second-guess yourself, Nicolette. You’re more clever than that. Your good intentions have a way of deceiving you. Not everyone wants to be a good girl like you used to be. Some see it as a sign of weakness. Soon, you might see it that way too.”

“Let the heat of your anger be supplemented by the cold chill of determination. Embrace the icy mentality that you will need to thrive in days and weeks ahead,” said Serena.

My mistress knows me so well, thought Nicole. But doesn’t Brenda know me too? Maybe today is just a bad day for her. She doesn’t know what she said or how it affected me. Maybe she’ll let me explain myself and we could even grow closer from this fight. Her thoughts defaulted to hopeful and positive, which felt more and more likely until her mistress spoke again.

“We always try to think the best of those we care about, my Nicolette, but I assure you—I can see through her charms. I know a different side of that woman. You’re so naïve, but with my insight I can enlighten you. Would you like to know who she is behind that mask?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Nicole mouthed silently, unwilling to pull her eyes from the screen. Fear gripped her mind as she awaited Serena’s revelations. Did she really want to know the real Brenda?

“I will tell you how you need to view her from now on, since you’re new to the darker side of people. The truth will sting at first, but the it must be shared. This motherly woman is a liar and betrayer and deserves your wrath and retribution. I know you don’t want to think these thoughts. You try to be a good girl and hope that others try to be the same. They don’t. And this one is not good for you. She pities you because the other girls think you’re weird. She pities you because you’re constantly playing life safe and never really experience it, you poor thing. The truth is you don’t enjoy life; you try to avoid it. She thought you were likeable and sweet at first, but after all this time, watching you take no real risks in life, you can imagine how boring the friendship got for her. “ The words stung because they rang true.

“So when my people propositioned her, she jumped at the opportunity. She wanted to put her biology degree to use and the money was very tempting. So we set her up. She watched you, Nicolette. She reported on you as if you were a lab animal. Your worries, your behaviors, your mistakes—everything. When we couldn’t see you on camera, she was our eyes and ears. And when she took possession of your laboratory chimps, and used your notes to help us configure the formula that will change the world, she demanded that we give her the credit in the peer review journals, instead of you. We had to agree. Oh, Nicolette, you’ve been subverted by a woman you deeply trusted. She used you under the guise of friendship, a relationship that hasn’t truly existed in months.”

Anger surged inside Nicole, but she did not move her body. How could Brenda do that to me? she thought. As she meditated on what her mistress had disclosed, certain memory fragments began falling into place, forming an unsavory portrait of Brenda that shattered the goodwill she felt toward her. The information planted the seeds of disdain for Brenda, replacing the glowing trust that she thought had been forged during her time at the house.

Along with the anger-born disdain, Nicole felt a tinge of pity for her. That was curious. The pity gave Nicole pause that maybe she could help her, guide her, and retrain her to be a better person. Yes, a woman like that should not be neglected. She must be grown and changed for the better.

“That’s right. I know what you’re feeling, my submissive. A notion that’s novel to you; the urge to right a wrong by any means necessary. Embrace that urge to further your development. You’ll no longer abide by “live and let live”—an archaic, misogynistic perspective if there ever was one. You’ll become a crusader for your sisterhood. You’ll master ways to triumph over this plague that has long infected our society, in my name.”

Serena continued. “Brenda is obviously a broken woman and has lost her way. She should have responded positively to your sapphic advances, the purest of sisterhood. But she rejected your advance because she has been poisoned. Society poisoned her. And because of this, she struck out and violated you. She is blinded and you should not be victimized by her ever again.”

While the rest of her body remained still, Nicole clenched her jaw. She tasted the new bitterness, a mix of pity and indignation. I will not again be her victim, Nicole promised herself.

“She’s been so nasty to you, ever since you began this fake friendship with her,” said Serena. “Of course, you thought it was real. Oh, how naïve you were. She fooled you and easily took advantage of your lack of common sense. But enough about that vile wretch and your past with her. Now, let’s talk about you.”

“Now that you see the problem, let’s discuss solutions. As you are now, in that body, are you really capable of fixing Brenda and exterminating the foul beliefs that infest even your sorority house?” Serena continued.

Near the shadow that enveloped her mistress, Nicole heard a series of noises that sounded like sheets of ice cracking. The popping sounds continued for at least ten seconds. When the camera’s eye moved and found the source of the noise, it focused on the statue, which had altered. The new form had a stunningly accurate resemblance to Nicole.

“And here we see the one who is to be my champion—you,” said Serena in a dour tone. Nicole sensed both concern and disappointment in her voice immediately.

Trying to evade the disappointed tone, Nicole’s mind tried to focus on when this physical incarnation of her was true. Of course, it could have been just a few days ago. Her physique had not changed in several years, since her junior year of high school, but the rebellious posture was recent. Like most girls who critiqued their physical presence on a daily basis, Nicole found the details of the sculpture were quite accurate. It detailed the way her right shoulder was slightly higher than her left shoulder when she stood straight, the soft curvature of her belly, and the uneven placement of her nipples. Her body had always been the textbook example of what gym-rats called “skinny-fat”. Overall, she was not ready to be anyone’s champion, especially not for her mistress Serena.

It’s me, Nicole thought. I’m the problem. I’m inadequate. The voices continued to tell her to be still, to be frozen, and under hypnosis, Nicole felt the need to comply. The urge to fall below consciousness began as the session started.

Nicole watched the dark shadow that hid Serena moving toward the icy statue. As the shadow reached the icy monument, the light that illuminated it was also consumed by the shadow. The screen went dark and yet Nicole remained still.

“You’re so physically average right now, or maybe less than that. You’re certainly not anyone special. But with me, you’ll be more. No longer an ordinary, unappealing girl. You’ll become more. You can be my champion. And when that happens, as my champion, you’ll be stronger and have a deeper connection to me. That’s the ultimate reward. Oh, you have never felt me like you will when that link is formed. I’ll be ever present in your mind.

“But before we connect, we need to start at the beginning. I’d like to try something. Can you feel anything when I do this?” asked Serena.

Very soft indirect lighting emerged to cause the screen to lighten enough for Nicole’s eyes to decipher movement in the shadows around the upper part of the statue. Seconds after Serena spoke, Nicole felt a warm tingling sensation cascading back and forth from the tops of her breasts to underneath, as if they were being cupped by soft hands. A gasp lodged at the back of her throat in response to the assault. She worked hard to remain still as she endured the unexpected rush.

Then the indirect lighting picked up the shadow moving away from the statue and the sensations stopped.

“That’s just a taste of what my connection will be with my champion,” said Serena.

Nicole swallowed again and remained outwardly still. She heard more sounds of cracking before the lighting fully illuminated the statue again. As she expected, it had changed. The camera drew closer and Nicole drank in the view. The form of her pathetic meekness was no longer on display. In its place stood a woman that was wearing the same dominatrix-like suit that was currently on Nicole’s body.

“This is a just a glimmer of what will become of you as the wearer of the suit, as my champion. Quite stunning, don’t you think?” asked Serena.

Nicole’s initial thought was the this formation was an overtly-sexualized transformation of her body. She found the figure’s eyes large and piercing, conveying a mysterious detachment. The hair was healthy and longer, slightly out of control. The lips were fuller and posed in a knowing smirk. There was serious curvature to her upper torso and full breasts that would be the envy of any high-class stripper. The stomach was toned and her hips were wider to accommodate a fuller butt. Her thighs appeared stronger and displayed the muscle sweep found on high-performing female soccer players. These promises of a new physique was sufficient to convince her that wearing suit was the right choice to make. However, she knew the result was an improved body built to attract women, not men.

While focusing on the details of the statue near Serena, Nicole barely registered the changes in the suit she was wearing. Her suit’s current status was not brought to her full attention until her mistress, still hidden as a silhouette, informed her. “The suit has begun the process of engaging with your body, my champion, my girl of ice. You will feel some discomfort over the next few hours, but you must not move. For a perfect adjustment, you must be my completely frozen statue. If you move, I fear you’ll be less than happy with the outcome. If you remain frozen, I pledge that you’ll love the results.”

Nicole remain firm in her decision to not displease her mistress or jeopardize the success of the project, no matter what was to happen next. No matter how much pain she experienced, she would not fail Serena.

“Now for my final revelation of this short time together. On this, you will meditate. It is a clear picture of future Nicole after the transformation is complete. You’ve been such a willing submissive this entire session, remaining focused and still for all these hours. Do not fail me now,” said Serena.

Hours? thought Nicole. Then she noticed the sun-caused glare that was ever-present on the upper left of her monitor was no longer there. The sun had set. It had to be dark outside.

“I’ll show you what will happen to Brenda after you’ve change her,” continued Serena.

The ice-cracking resounded through the room once again and the camera returned to view the image on the platform. The depiction sent erotic chills up and down her spine. Nicole wondered if she was even capable of producing such a result on another woman.

“Some women can be molded like clay, soft in your hands and malleable under your influence. That won’t be the case for Brenda. You’ll have to bring forth the full force of domination on her, as if she were a solid block of ice,” said Serena. “She will resist. You’ll have to crush her resistance.”

Featured on the screen was a depiction of Brenda. This result was haunting as it featured Brenda kneeling on the floor in defeat. She was completely naked and all of her body had changed. All of the excess body fat that she had in the previous incarnation was burned away, revealing a slimmer physique. She wore a collar that was fastened around her neck. An icy leash was clipped to the collar and lay on the floor of the platform. Her head was bowed and hair fell down to hid the sides of her face. As they hung from her torso, Nicole noted that Brenda’s breasts had retained their fullness and were even more perky than in the previous incarnation.

What must I be to break Brenda like this? Who will I become? And really, could I make her submit to me? Nicole wondered.

“And now we begin the most significant step in your transformation. For my pleasure, as I revel in your responses to your transformation process, I’ll let you see what is happening to your body as the suit begins its masterpiece,” said Nicole’s silhouetted mistress. In a moment, Nicole’s screen was split into two uneven frames. On her right was a larger picture that focused on Serena’s silhouette and the icy image of the broken Brenda. On her left, Nicole saw the image of herself as she sat in her chair. She was upright, completely still except for barely-detectable movements of her face, and the dark sheen of her wet-looking suit reflected in the infrared spectrum of the cameras. Every twenty seconds the picture changed as it rotated from one camera to the next.

“You’ll endure much for the sake of transforming into my champion. Soon you’ll feel small pinches on your neck, and some at the ends of your breasts, and at some point, on the tenderness between your legs. Always remain still to ensure the best result. Endure through all of this, my love. It is a wonderfully twisted way to bless you. Once this part is done, you will be equipped to do your part in my plans.”

Moments later Nicole felt a distinct pinch at the back of her neck. Since it was one of the few blind spots of her camera array, nothing was evident on the screen to show her what was happening . At first the pain was sharp and burning, but, after a minute, that feeling morphed into something duller. The dull pressure remained, like an IV or tube that was affixed to her neck. Her physical awareness was acute at the sensitive insertion area. She noted something cold and liquid being pushed through the connection. That continued for over a minute. Once that was over, her neck felt odd. Before the insertion, the tightness of the collar was always present. Now that it was done, she didn’t notice the collar but knew it was there. It was a comforting presence as if her neck was a part of the suit, that they were one.

When she felt the multitude of bites around the ends of her breasts and between her legs, Nicole did not budge or even clench her teeth. She was afraid of causing irreparable damage to the process. Thankfully, the pain of the initial intrusions on her body dulled quickly. The on-screen image of Nicole showed miniscule movements at her chest happening under thick seams of the bustier. It felt like many needles simultaneously biting into her tender flesh.

Serena spoke idealistically to sooth Nicole and calm her growing concern over the pain and the upcoming changes. “Be still, my dear. Enjoy the moment. Embrace the process. Pain, for me, is pleasure. And pleasure from me is something painful. I am a mother, guiding you in your new birth. This pain will usher in the dawn of my champion. You be are being rebuilt through the pain. It is now re-engaging with glands of your teenage years, mixing up new hormones and growth cells to make you more fitting for me. I could not use your scrawny body. So, it is time to become the physical specimen necessary to lead my movement. You will appear fitting to be the champion of your goddess.”

Nicole felt like she was reaching her breaking point. The pain was intense and constant, sometimes dull, and other times, acute. It was getting increasingly difficult to find enjoyment.

To endure and find some pleasure, Nicole repeated a mantra in her mind. Be still. Savor the moment. Embrace the process. It will be worth it. Be beautiful.

Her mistress continued to speak. “Frankly, I am tired of your poor self-image. It’s becoming boring and a distraction. You’re neither steaming hot or frigidly cold. Your talent was being minimized by your stupid depression, so I decided to move on you sooner. We could not let you nosedive in the abyss. That’s why we sent the suit. That’s why you’re here now. After that worthless part of you is tossed away by this painful trial, you will actually be a benefit to my mission. Until you become my champion, you’re no good to me. You are like an adoring fan of my work, but not a contributor.

But today is a great day. The best of your life. Now you’re going through your transformation. You are becoming the more perfect Nicolette, the one to be by my side in my goddess revolution.”

She hated me… I can’t believe she thought I was so worthless… But then… I felt the same way… I hated myself…

Ouch! That hurts so bad… I want it to stop… I can’t do this… Focus, Nicole… Focus…

The pain feels good, the pain excites me… I don’t think so… but I’ve got to believe… I’m becoming new for Serena… the pain excites me, it turns me on… keep saying it, Nicole…

Serena teaches me that pain is exciting for me… pain is pleasure… my pain is pleasure… okay, that’s a little better… I’ve got to keep up with that…

New birth brings pain… all birth brings pain… but my pain brings pleasure… oh, oh… now it’s working… I feel it… the pinches… they feel good… ohhhh… oh… oh my….

A switch had flipped in Nicole’s mind. She interpreted the pain as sexual pleasure.

Oh… so good… hurt me more… I’m feeling dizzy… a little bit myself… I’m throbbing… but I’m frozen… I can’t touch myself… I need more pain…

Hehe… pain is good… oh yeah… but that’s funny… more pain… better sex… haha… bigger breasts…

Ahhh… so good… keep it going… a boob job?... no… hahaha… titties… bitter titties!...

I’m so getting off on this… and I’ll be a champ...eeeee...on…. champ...eeeeeeeee...on….

Maybe a sexy hot champi...on… I must be gettin’ cute… Oh, hurt me baby… yeah like that… ohhhh, baby….

A small, insignificant part of Nicole’s awareness noticed the changes in her thoughts.

New titties… I wonder if they’ll bounce… boing, boing, boing… I’ve never had ones that bounce before… I can’t wait to see them in the mirror… on me… and hop on my feet to make them… bounce…

Ohhh… baby, you keep pinching my tits… my titties… oh yeah… don’t stop… and I like… No, I want you to keep poking me… my pussy… so naughty…

You pinch me, baby… but I love it.. more… mooooore!... I want the hurt…

If… If I would move… but I won’t… oh yeah, more hurt… I’d rub up against those... those… those needles so hard…. ahhh…

I’m so… horny… how I get horny?... I love horny…

My titties… my new pussy… sexy Nic—... Nicole… no!... ahhh… sexy Nikki… yes, Nikki…

Stupid Nicole… she’d never love her titties… never show her titties… show her pussy… but Nikki… I’m Nikki… I show ‘em… ouch… so hurt… sooooo good…

>I shove them… Nikki shoves them in… in Brenda’s face!... haha… I get revenge…

Nicole… weak boring Nicooooooole… she’d never… but Nikki… I’m Nikki… that’s right… bite my tits… bit hard… yeah… ahhhh…

Nikki is real… Nicole… goodbye, Nicole… the champion is Nikki…

Nikki has the tits, the pussy… and she serves Serena always… Serena wants Nikki, not Nicole….

The metamorphosis was deep and thorough. Unexpectedly, an unfamiliar persona emerged from the depths of Nicole’s subconscious.

I sweat… on my head… my face… I sweat… ‘cus the pain… I, Nikki… love the pain… sweat drips down my chest… Nikki embraces the pain… to be the champion… Serena, my Goddess… new tits… new pussy… new Nikki….

The perspiration increased over her skin, transforming from droplets to small streams. The changes to her personality, mind, and body were burrowing deeper every hour. The front of the suit was now soaked, like a bucket of water was recently dumped over her. The contours of the shiny black vinyl suit underneath were glistening in the camera’s eye.

“I see your body is responding nicely to the suit’s programming. The pain brings heat. Heat brings sweat. And sweat must be released for your new, cold disposition to find a home,” said Serena.

I’m home… I’m Nikki…. thought the girl in the suit.

As the view cycled to the one showing Nicole’s neck and chest, she saw the top of the suit had changed. The upper part of the breast cups had begun to peel down, revealing more of the surface of her breasts. The vinyl continued to slowly peel itself away as she watched, now resembling a tiny shelf bra that exposed even the upper edge of her areolas. For the first time, she saw the needles at work, tending to her breasts’ redevelopment. The sight excited her.

More… pinch more… Nikki wants the pain… ahhhhh….

Awareness of time was still lost to Nicole. She was willingly floating in a pliable shell of shallow hypnosis, both aware of what was happening to her body and unwilling to stop it from happening. Compared to the emotional whirlwind she was caught in earlier, this was a place of bliss.

Previously hidden red and blue blood vessels stood out pronounced beneath her thin layer of porcelain pale white skin along the lower half of her neck. They continued past her collarbone and branched toward her sternum and to each side of her chest. Her life fluid was pumping through these biological highways in an intensity she had not experienced before. In her ears, her heart thumped audibly. The development was hard on her biological systems, but she knew it had to be done.

As if Serena was reading her mind, she said, “Yes, it’s the same serum, reformulated by my lab, that was sourced from your work with the chimps. There’s nothing like it when it travels through your bloodstream. You will feel like you’re running a marathon while your body transforms.”

She felt the cold, mysterious liquid course through her upper torso. A strong ache emerged, sprouting from within her breasts and ballooning into her chest. The icy discomfort multiplied within seconds. The pain reminded her of the lyme disease she had contracted after a camping trip in the summer of her freshman year of high school. Though she eventually recovered, she was miserable for weeks.

Overall, her breasts felt like they were expanding and swelling. The latex cups in which Nicole had placed her breasts and so carefully positioned her nipples were now peeled back completely. The outlining seems of the cups remained in place, creating a peek-a-boo effect. She had never seen her own chest look this full. She fantasized about having large, full breasts all her young life, even before she hit puberty, but gave up that figment of her imagination several years ago.

Nicole wanted to theorize as to the way the suit and the serum had affected her breasts, but Nikki prevented further thoughts about it. Nikki instead obsessed over the voluptuousness of her new titties. Her breasts had grown as if she was three months pregnant, tender and increasing in size and volume. The biting, splinter-sized needles that pierced the pale flesh and fed from the micro-lines in the suit induced the growth of her slender, lemon-sized breasts. Before the process, they were longer than they were wide. Now they were the size of small apples, adding width at the top to match the length, and becoming rounder in shape.

“The new you is close to being birthed. The end of the process is near,” said the sexy silhouette, as she began to move. That caught Nicole’s attention as her focus shifted wholly to Serena’s part on her screen. For the first time in their session, Serena moved out of the shadows and allowed the lights of the room to illuminate her.

Nicole’s jaw dropped slightly as she viewed the altered appearance of her mistress. Since her jaw moved, she endured a sharp pain in her neck that lasted for a full ten seconds, after which the pain subsided. Nikki loved it.

Serena unveiled stunning changes to her own body. “Now that you are past the point of no return, there’s no downside to showing you what I’ve done. I too, have undergone the start of a transformation. I am the goddess and you will be my champion. I was rebirthed. You will be too.”

Serena was an All-American beauty the last time Nicole saw her during her treatment in Empathy. Nicole thought she was physically intoxicating. She sported a golden tan, a slender but firm musculature, and shapely legs. Her stomach was flat, revealing the ridges of a four-pack. Her generously-sized but pert breasts held the enviable quintessential tear-drop shape and belled out perfectly at the bottom, especially under a cutoff shirt. Nicole had spent a lot of time thinking about those breasts. However, it was obvious the treatments she had undergone warped the magnetism she once had. Before, she was all about trapping both men and women in her allure. Now, Serena was transformed into a body constructed for a purpose other than tempting the people around her. Her body was striving for power: the ability to trap and dominate only females.

“The old religions had it right. The ancient goddesses of fertility and womanhood deserved their worship and laid claim to what was theirs. Venus and Athena held their own in the pantheon of gods of great civilizations. This is what women are missing today. They don’t have a deity to worship. I must fill that gap. I will become a demigod and rise above mere humanity. Not only for me. I will bring others, my sisters, with me. My metamorphosis will usher in an era of female power for the ones I have chosen.

“You see, my champion, in this era of sapphic rising, the women who I choose will be able to customize their own improvements. They will guide their transformation. Those will be the elite. Others will have their enhancements chosen for them by the elite. They will be a lower class, subservient. They might not like what they get, but the sapphic rising that I bring will overwhelm them. In order to survive in the new world, some modifications will be necessary. And of course, as the lowest of low social classes, men will never be able to transform or improve. Some will be chosen as pets. Others will remain the sick wretches that they are now and likely grow weaker, and more dependent, as the era progresses.”

I… Nikki… will be your champion….

“That’s the ultimate goal and will take some time to accomplish. But, let’s talk about your path, where you’ve been and where you’re going, your mind, your desires, and your personality. And most importantly—how I’ll use you. Several months ago, your scientific insight with the chimps greatly advanced our work towards the ultimate goal. It was amazing what my people did with that find, and we don’t want to take those skills from you. My hope is to keep your intellectual mind in its current condition.”

I’m Nikki… I don’t want to do science….

“However, we expect that your sexual drive will increase dramatically. Those two factors are once that we can predict fairly well. It’s your personality that will probably change in the most unpredictable ways. But really, could it get any worse?”

Nikki is here now… and I want sex, lots of sex… not science….

“But don’t let the unknown scare you. Things may turn out wonderfully, but honestly I don’t know what results you’ll get. As careful as we want to be, as a scientist, you know the nature of hormones—it’s all a wildcard, a crazy chance. It’s possible you’ll end up like me. My natural cognitive abilities are still intact and my sexuality is even more compelling, but the petulant childishness that was part of me is gone. And I’ll tell you—I don’t miss that side of me one bit. I was too focused on short-term goals. It was holding me back. I know how to think long-term now. Whatever is holding you back will be discarded too.

“Feast on me, my champion. You desired me before. I know you find my naked body delicious. I have been treated and improved, but my results are different than yours, as they will be for every woman. Though I was born of the lab, my full potential could not be achieved through even the best human design. It was flawed and had shortcomings. I now am on the outside, the woman I’ve always been on the inside. I have blessed myself. I extend a small taste of the experience to you, my future champion.

“Those who are in my own circle, my allies, will receive treatments like mine. The results emphasize my sexuality and my personality. I’m much different than when we met in the lab not so long ago. I’m powerful now. And I’m still improving. I am achieving the impossible.

“I know your arousal rises for me. It always has. Give in to it. Taste me with your eyes. Savor the new flavors. Inspect every inch of my body. Have your eyes consume this body of mine. I’m a goddess rising to the level of the ancients.”

At that moment, the lighting increased and the camera zoomed in on the illuminated young woman.

Nicole’s eyes widened at the degree of change of the resculpted body of her mistress.

The young woman who became Nicole’s goddess wore a sheer, green-tinted triangle bikini top that covered her nipples and a G-string that failed to conceal anything between her legs. She stood confidently with her shoulders back and to allow full visual access. Her treatment melted all excess fat around her arms and midsection and uncovered deeper muscle striations in both areas. While they appeared more chiseled, her arms had not increased in size. Her midsection was pulled in tightly as if she was wearing an invisible corset, causing her waist to be smaller.

On the other hand, her breasts expanded. They were no longer the tanned youthful orbs Nicole remembered. Now they were more pale, mature-looking, and fifty-percent bigger than the large apple-size they were before. They were tipped with wider, dark areolas and nipples that punctured through the surface of the bikini top’s material.

I like what I see… she could give me a taste… or I can take a taste….

Fires flickered in Nicole’s erotic core as she took in the new appearance of her goddess, momentarily forgetting the violent machinations of the suit on her body. Look at those arms, so perfect. I will run my hands over them as they hold me. And I will feel your waist, the strength in your being. I’ll place my hands under your breasts, to feel their weight, and then run my thumbs over the ends, and I will lean into them and open my mouth….

“I am your goddess,” repeated a chorus of voices of different women. Serena began to sway her hips side to side. The camera arrived at the lower portion of her body and focused on the area between her legs.

“Worship me, submissive,” sang the chorus.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said Serena. The aesthetic magnificence of her mons was unlike anything Nicole could have imagined. It was succulent, pristine, and ideal. The shape whispered innocence while screaming vulgarities. It was the ultimate in sexual organs, the sexual flower every woman would die for.

“I’ll tell you something. I love staring at myself. So… Does society think that’s wrong? What do they know? Shouldn’t a goddess adore her own body? Isn’t only her own body worthy of her worship? I love my deified body and my sexual center. And it’s not only the appearance that I treasure.

“The sensitivity of my sex has increased tenfold. When I run a fingernail over the edges, like this… It’s hard for even… even me to control… so hard, nearly overwhelming.”

Serena removed her hands from her labia and took a moment to compose herself before continuing.

“Although it feels like you’ve received treatment all over your young body, your breasts are the focus of the suit’s effort right now. After the suit has done its work on your chest, your labia and surrounding parts are next in line for extreme development.”

Nicole was physically aware of the suit doing its work, yet she remained still in the sensual comfort of the induced semi-hypnosis.

By her erect nipples and glistening labia, she could see that Serena was in a high state of arousal. As she danced, the erotic energy in her grew.

“And that sensitivity will turn into desire, which will change you. It’s a whirlpool of sensations. None of them can be tamed. None of them can be fully satisfied. You become a magnet for every woman’s hidden, uncovered lust. I know it’s pulling at you now. I know you want me, my champion.” Her seduction was intensely focused on her submissive.

The smaller screen showed small drops of fluid appearing on the tips of Nicole’s nipples. She sensed the fullness of her chest. The changes to her breasts were clearly internal as well as external. In addition to the growth, they had begun leaking. Oh… oh, my… I’m changing so much… that’s so hot… I have milky titties… Nikki has sexy tits…. Her sense of decency was being peeled away to its final layer.

Serena’s seductive dance continued as the female chorus grew louder.

“Embrace your change. Love your transformation.

“Take off your old self, leave it. Put on the new self, new self.

“Claim your real sexuality… your full attraction to women. Only women… women and teen girls… to them you’re attracted...

“And prepare for your goddess. Prepare your mind and your body...

“She’s coming to your home.

“Prepare. Prepare for her arrival.

“Soon you will enjoy her. You’ll feel her. You’ll hold her.

“Soon you’ll partake of her nectar. And she’ll turn on you. She will stand over you.

“Then she will claim you… as her champion.

“Prepare for her arrival.”

Enchanted by her own movements, the beautiful nude goddess moved over to the ice sculpture and cupped the frozen breasts of the form of the future broken Brenda. Serena ran her hands across the front, then cupped them underneath, pinched the frozen nipples, and ran her fingers up the sides. The sexually deviant performance doubled the erotic stirring in Nicole’s sex. Then Serena drew back from the statue and paused her activities.

No, touch her some more. Take her! Nicole was shocked at her thoughts and the obsession they revealed. I’m not myself… who am I?... am I Nikki? Should I slip into… oh yes, I should… she isn’t touching the statue anymore, but I’m still on edge. This is really happening to me. I’m changing. Nikki’s becoming me. I’m becoming her.

Serena resumed her seduction of the statue. “With the physical changes you’ll experience, a visual experience as fleeting as that fondle will drive you insane with lust. You will crave the feminine body and sex more than you ever imagined possible and will experience frequent temptation. And with the new you, you’ll easily follow the temptation. Caution is not part of the new you, my champion.”

Serena continued to guide Nicole. “It’s time to begin your thaw, my girl of ice. Beneath your frozen shell is a raging fire. Feel the lust and embrace it, but wait for my instructions before you’re unleashed. You may feel the need to move during the next few moments. But… endure it… for me… oh, beautiful, precious… for your benefit, I’m going to touch….”

Serena looked directly at Nicole, stepped over, and and palmed the Brenda statue’s breasts again.

Oh, goddess, yesssss. Take her. And take her… rough! thought Nicole.

Serena then pressed her own bikini-covered breasts against the ice and began grinding against the statue’s legs. While they were being compressed, the pale-skin sides of her breasts fell out of the flimsy top. “Oh, yeah. Uhhhh,” moaned Serena as she continued to stare at Nicole defiling herself in hypersexualized acts against the sculpture. She then stepped upright and assumed a dominating pose over Brenda’s image. Then Serena spread her legs before the statue’s face, as though demanding oral pleasuring.

The volume of the chorus of female voices increased in the background and began giving new instructions: “Your next target,” said one. The voices were of many different women, but in the midst of the chorus, one voice stood out. “She’s your next target” the voice said. The words broke through the crowd of sounds.

Yes, goddess Serena, oh yes thought Nicole, closing her eyes to feel Nikki’s heat more acutely. Her new persona grew steadily.

“Follow in your mistress’ steps,” said another.

“Is the one who comforts,” said the next.

“But she betrayed you,” said the first.

“Seduce her, make her yours,” said a third.

“This is a test,” said a blending of voices.

“Your next test.”

“For the girl, the one was frozen, is now new, and can now move.

“Will take control of the bitch.”

“The bitch… she will be yours. Serena is true. She shows you the future that will be.”

As Nicole’s mind fell further, and Nikki’s persona rose in domination, her long-held decency fell with it, mesmerized into the lesbian sexual dominance on display before her, the suit moved its efforts away from her breasts. The somewhat dormant incisors between Nicole’s legs swiftly began to intensely work on her labia. The sensation blended high level eroticism and acute pain as dozens of tiny robotic instruments descended on her aroused femininity. The live video feed of Nicole changed its source from the cameras at her chest to the one below her desk. The adept night-vision camera aimed between her legs revealed quick movements, like water ripples, under the layer of vinyl. It appeared subtle on camera, but Nicole felt a significant amount of manipulation.

“I give you permission to move. You are unfrozen, my champion,” said Serena.

“Ahhh!” Nicole gripped the chair, moving her whole body for the first time since the session began. Doubt re-emerged. “I don’t know about this. I can’t do this. It’s too much. Maybe… we should stop now… maybe?”

The chorus grew louder. Serena’s voice pierced her mind. Moments later her mind calmed and felt more at ease with what the suit was doing. Discomfort dropped. She let go of the chair arms. A pleasure feeling entered the moment. Nicole enjoyed the minutes of euphoria that ensued. She was only slightly disturbed when a steady vibration arose from the middle of the suit between her legs. She accepted the changes as she felt a smooth appendage grow. She squirmed a little when it entered between her labia, which was still under reconstruction.

The intrusion was corrupting. Having the shaft enter her innocent cavity suffocated the good-natured, cautious girl inside, allowing Nikki to fill the void. Her eyes narrowed, her pupils contracted, and her facial demeanor shifted.

Nikki was now in charge. She would be able to navigate through the changes ahead. She saw the woman, the bitch who betrayed her, in her mind’s eye, not as the statue kneeling beneath Serena, but the woman who she had fled from in the kitchen. She foresaw the actions needed to make the flesh and blood woman kneel before her. Then she saw herself taking the woman from behind with her hands. That was an image Nikki dwelled on hungrily.

“My Nicolette, did you hear me?” asked Serena.

The girl shook her head. “Not Nicolette. And Nicole is gone. I’m Nikki.”

“You’re Nikki?” asked Serena.

“Yeah, I’m Nikki. I’m your champion. As for the next challenge— Brenda is mine. I will own her,” the girl declared as her eyes glowed with flames of lust and revenge.