The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

08 A New Facet

It’s Tuesday morning. Sadie generally gets in early for work. Maybe it’s all part of the act, all part of making the right impression. In all honesty she doesn’t know where the act begins and ends. She assumes that’s why she’s so successful.

But this morning it’s not just an act. This morning she wants to be here, because this is where Jane is. And Sadie wants very much to be where Jane is.

She does not understand this need, but nor does she feel any need to understand it. Even though she is vaguely aware that she did not feel this way yesterday morning, it does not even occur to her to question it. It is simply a facet of her personality now: her favourite colour is green, she likes bananas, and she wants to be where Jane is—or at least where Jane will be, once she arrives.

Jane does not get in early for work.

Windows run almost the whole length of the wall across the room from Sadie. So from her desk she can see the office car park located on the other side of the road, as well as much of the path that leads from the road to the main entrance of the building. She spends a full hour-and-a-half keeping an eye out for Jane.

Rachel is only there for the last half-hour of that. Sadie is too pre-occupied with her vigil to notice that Rachel too is pre-occupied. But she is sufficiently aware of Rachel’s presence to bother to give at least the impression that she is working.

Her hopes are raised when she sees Olivia Charles arriving. Olivia’s looking particularly beautiful this morning. It’s almost a classical beauty, it seems to Sadie. She’s only a fake lesbian of course, but even she can see that Jane is a lucky young woman. On the other hand, so is Olivia.

The sight of Olivia also brings with it the realisation that Sadie has given no thought to her assignment since—when was it? Yesterday morning? She knows that’s pretty remiss but it’s just that, really, obviously, Jane is much more important than the case right now. She just is. And that’s that.

Anyway, Sadie’s hopes are dashed: Olivia is definitely alone. She may sleep with Jane, but it seems they travel apart.

When Jane does finally arrive, Sadie almost misses her. Rachel has lost her pen and at a crucial moment she stands up to look around her chair for it, obscuring more of Sadie’s view than one would have thought possible. Thankfully Rachel spots the pen and bends over just in time to reveal a tired-looking Jane making her way up the path, only seconds away from the door.

Sadie’s heart lifts at the sight of her. It feels only natural. She notes the time. She has already decided that she will give Jane fifteen minutes to get settled in before she calls her.

Fifteen minutes is an awfully long time, she begins to realise. When, after five minutes, Rachel leaves the room, it occurs to Sadie that she would feel more comfortable talking to Jane while Rachel is absent. Still, she waits another five minutes before finally picking up the phone.

An email would have done, of course. But it isn’t what Sadie has to say that matters. No. What matters is that Sadie talks to Jane and, more importantly, that she hears Jane talking back to her.

When Jane picks up, Sadie is embarrassed to hear Rachel’s by now very familiar voice in the background at the other end. It hadn’t occurred to her that Rachel might have gone to talk to Jane. What were the chances of that? So much for her private conversation...

Anyway, consolation comes in the form of Jane’s voice.

“Hello?”

Jane sounds uncertain, like she’s never used a phone before, bless her. Sadie takes a deep breath.

“Oh, hello Jane, it’s Sadie McCall here. Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to change my sandwich order, if that’s OK.”

It was the best excuse to call that she could think of.

There’s a pause.

“Oh hi Sadie. That’s fine. It’s not a problem. But...”

There’s a longer pause.

“Sadie? I’m a bit busy at the moment but I won’t be at ten o’clock so...”

There’s a third and even longer pause. Sadie’s about to interrupt it to say that she’ll call back at ten, but Jane suddenly continues.

“Sadie? I’m going to book Meeting Room 3 for ten o’clock and we can discuss it then, OK?”

OK?! It’s ridiculous! They don’t need to book a meeting room! But in truth Sadie couldn’t have asked for a better result from her call...

“Oh. Well, that would be great, thank you!”

“I’ll see you at ten o’clock then, yeah?”

“Sure. Meeting Room 3?”

“That’s right.”

“OK, see you at ten.”

“OK. Bye Sadie.”

“Bye Jane. Bye.”

Sadie’s smiling broadly as she replaces the receiver. She’s going to talk to Jane, one-to-one, face-to-face. She and Jane are going to be alone in a room together.

She’s feeling a mixture of emotions, but they can be summarised thus: elation.

09 Understanding Jane

In order to locate Meeting Room 3, Sadie has to refer to the map that Mary gave her on her first day. The room is upstairs. She curses Mary for having skimped on the tour up there. It would be just her luck if she missed out on this opportunity to spend some time with Jane because she couldn’t find the bloody room.

But as it turns out, when she heads upstairs at five-to-ten, the room is exactly where the map said it would be. It’s locked though.

Jane arrives with a key a little after ten. She’s carrying a notepad and pen too.

It isn’t sexual. Whatever Sadie is feeling when she sees Jane approaching, it isn’t sexual. She doesn’t know what it is but she knows what it isn’t.

She doesn’t want to... whatever you call it with two women. (Oh a fine lesbian she makes!)

She doesn’t even want to kiss Jane.

She just wants to be with her.

And maybe—maybe—she would like to touch her, or to stroke her hair, or something like that. But it wouldn’t be sexual. It would just be... nice. It would prove that Jane was really here—with her.

She isn’t going to touch her though. She doesn’t need to do that.

Not surprisingly for a meeting room, there’s a table with some chairs around it. Sadie pulls one out and sits on it. But Jane doesn’t do that. No, Jane heaves herself up to sit on the table, really quite close to Sadie. And she pushes the nearest chair out a little, rests one foot on it, and crosses her legs.

Maybe Jane always does this. Maybe there’s nothing in it. But it certainly feels like a clumsy attempt to assert her dominance. And as such it feels ridiculous to Sadie; it feels comical.

But on the other hand, it gives her a very nice view of Jane’s legs. And they’re shown off to such perfection by that tiny skirt. Sadie could just reach out and stroke them. But of course, she doesn’t. She doesn’t need to do that. It’s just that Jane’s legs are... Well, they’re just...

Jane is consulting the notepad on her lap, though in fact the page is blank.

“So, Sadie, your current sandwich is cheese and tomato, right?”

Straight down to business then. Sadie fears this “meeting” could be over in less than a minute. Regardless, she can’t fault Jane’s record keeping. Or her legs, come to that.

“That’s right Jane, yes. Cheese and tomato.”

“So, what would you like to change it to?”

“Well, what are my options, Jane?”

“Oh, well, there are quite a few. I mean, there’s Cheese, Cheese Salad, Ham, Egg, Egg Mayo, Egg Mayo and...”

“Cheese Salad!” says Sadie, hastily. “Cheese Salad would be fine.”

“OK, that’s fine...” Jane starts writing. “Cheese... salad... There.”

She clicks the retractor button on her pen. Then she closes the notepad. Then she pushes the pen into the wire binding of the pad. Then she turns her face to look at Sadie properly for the first time since she seated herself on the table.

She has nice eyes, Sadie notices for the first time.

“Right then. That’s that. So tell me, Sadie... What are you doing here in the company? And why are you so interested in me and Olivia?”

Jane doesn’t sound particularly emotional. In fact, she could still be reeling off sandwich fillings. But somehow that makes this sudden change in the line of questioning all the more surprising, and the questions even harder to answer. Sadie is scrabbling for a viable response when...

“And you have to tell me the truth.”

Oh, well, that makes it easier then. Sadie’s head is tingling too. It’s a familiar feeling. Words start to form in her mind. For some reason she resists saying them. But really there is no reason to resist. And something tells her she’ll feel better if she does say them. But that’s irrelevant really, because they’ve started to spill out of her mouth anyway, like the beans.

“I’m a sort of investigator, Jane—industrial espionage, you know? My client wants information about some of the contracts that Olivia manages. Ideally he wants copies of the contracts. He figures there’ll be at least copies of them held here and...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” interrupts Jane. “You’re a spy?!“

She looks confused.

Sadie almost resents the interruption. She doesn’t really know what she has said—each word drifted out of her mind as she said it. Whatever she said though, it felt really good to say it, so she didn’t want to stop and her first reaction is annoyance with Jane.

But then the sight of Jane looking confused makes her feel bad. She doesn’t want Jane to be confused; she wants her to be happy and untroubled. So it was right for Jane to interrupt her. And of course she welcomes the opportunity to help by saying some more, even if she doesn’t know what she’s going to say.

“I’m... well, no... It’s industrial espionage, Jane. I mean, you could call it spying but it’s just business stuff.“

“Oh.” Jane looks thoughtful. And she’s still confused. “Only... Rachel thought that maybe... OK, so, you’re not investigating me?“

Sadie is horrified.

“Oh no, Jane! Why would you think that?!”

“Oh, no reason. I’m definitely not interesting at all. I’m very ordinary—very, very ordinary.”

The tingling is suddenly very intense. Jane’s almost monotone defence is surprisingly persuasive. Of course Jane isn’t ordinary. She’s sitting up there on the meeting table running the show, for one thing. She’s totally in charge of this situation. And she’s just... Her legs are just... But there’s nothing there to investigate. And anyway:

“I would never do anything like that to you, Jane,” says Sadie earnestly. “I just wouldn’t.“

It’s the truth—now. She can only speak the truth—now.

“OK,” says Jane. “OK. So let me get this straight. You’re working here, but...”

“That’s my cover, Jane... I’m just...”

“You’re only pretending to work...?“

“Well, no... Well, kind of... I do the work. But I’m also trying to find things out for my client.“

“OK... And your client doesn’t work here?“

Shit, this is hard work. And yet so easy. And pleasurable.

“Er, no, no he doesn’t. He’s a competitor, Jane. He’s called James Benson. He runs a company a bit like Hepworth’s. And he wants to take business away from Hepworth’s. Well I assume that’s what he wants to do. That’s not really my concern. I’m just here to get him the information he wants. I don’t know what he’s going to do with it.”

Jane has never quite got to grips with the idea that the company that pays her a salary is a business venture, competing with rivals for profit in a merciless market. To be fair, she is not alone in this. She gives Sadie’s explanation some consideration.

“OK... I get it, I think. So you aren’t interested in me...?”

“No. Well, only, I mean I love you Jane, obviously...“

Jane nods. She knows this.

“OK. But apart from that...”

“But apart from that... It’s Olivia, Jane. She manages the contracts that my client is interested in. So I was only interested in you because you’re close to Olivia, and I needed to get close to Olivia.“

“Right. OK. But you’re only interested in Olivia because...?”

“It’s all just business, Jane. It’s nothing personal.”

“Right...”

Jane looks thoughtful.

Sadie’s head is still tingling. She has a feeling that she has said more than she should have. But she can’t quite bring to mind anything that she has said. And anyway, what choice did she have?

Besides, she feels really good. It’s good to open up to Jane. She should be totally open with Jane. And maybe she hasn’t been open enough? Maybe she could open up even more? She feels like she could just open her legs right now, right here, in front of Jane, and diddle herself to a climax. Maybe she should. Maybe she just has—she’s not sure. But either way, there’d be nothing odd about that. She’d love to do that. And why not? She has no secrets from Jane.

Her legs stay closed, but she hears someone breaking the silence and is surprised to realise it’s her.

“I... wouldn’t... lie to you, Jane,” she hears herself say, uncertainly. And this time she knows what she has said, and she feels something damp happening between her closed legs.

“I know,” says Jane, so absent-mindedly that it’s clear she takes it for granted.

Somehow being taken for granted by Jane feels good. It feels right. It feels appropriate.

In fact, it feels hot. And it feels wet.

Jane continues to ponder what Sadie has told her.

Finally she says, “OK, well, I need to think about this.”

“Right. Of course.”

“So, look, why don’t you just lick my boot for a while? Then I can think about what to do.”

Jane directs the sole of her raised foot towards Sadie’s face.

For just a moment or two Sadie feels that there’s something odd about this. But at the same time she knows that she is with Jane, and somehow she doesn’t want it to feel odd. And anyway, her head is still tingling. And something seems to be in spasm deep inside her. And in fact her tongue has already made contact with the plastic sole of Jane’s cheap ankle boot, so why doesn’t she just drag it upwards a little? Indeed, why not drag it all the way up to the toe? Why is this even a question?

She’s with Jane. It’s OK. She’s OK. She’s licking Jane’s boot. She’s doing what Jane wants her to do. It’s fine. It’s really, really fine.

Jane watches, not bothering to hide her childish amusement or her satisfaction. There is no need. And she probably couldn’t conceal them anyway.

It started as an almost mindless act, but gradually it becomes a performance.

Sadie’s head is tingling but she can’t notice that anymore.

As best she can, she tries to maintain eye contact with Jane. She’s licking her boot but she wants Jane to know what she’d like to be licking instead. And she wants Jane to see how good she’d be at licking it.

And she feels beautiful. No, she feels sexy. She has a feeling that she looks really hot licking Jane’s boot. Sadie does know she’s hot—of course she does. But she can’t imagine she’s ever looked hotter than she does right now. She feels grateful to Jane for giving her this opportunity to look hot. She just hopes—fervently—that she’s proving herself worthy.

“That’s it,” murmurs Jane. “That’s really good.”

It’s a commentary on what she’s doing, rather than Sadie’s performance.

Even though Sadie has never tasted pussy, she is licking Jane’s pussyboot, and now it really does taste of pussy, and she likes it. She likes the taste of pussy. She likes licking Jane’s pussy. Maybe it is sexual now. It probably is, isn’t it? So she eats pussy now. So what? Doesn’t everyone?

Sadie could easily be licking her own pussy, such is the effect her ministrations are having on her. Her legs have opened a little now, and she’s as close to rhythmically thrusting her pussy forward as someone sitting down on a chair can be.

Multitasking, Jane extracts the pen again, opens the notepad, clicks the pen’s retractor button, and writes the name James Benson next to the only other thing written on the first page of the pad, which is “cheese salad”. Then she closes the pad again, retracts the point of the pen again, and slides the pen back into the wire binding of the pad.

Finally she casts the notepad behind her and puts her hands on the table to support her as she leans back a little and arches her back.

“Oh yes. I like that. Now, Sadie...”

“Mmmm-huh?”

“It’s OK. You’re not in any trouble. And you’re doing a really good job there—a really good job. But I just want you to relax and think about this job of yours—this spying business, you know...“

“Mmmuh-kurh...”

“...And about this investigation of yours...”

“Mmmuh-kurh...”

“...And this James Benson person.”

“Kurh...”

The light of inspiration suddenly dawns across Jane’s face. She can cut this list short.

“In fact, I want you to think about the truth behind all of the lies you’ve told while you’ve been here.“

“Mmmuh-kurh...”

Jane can’t decide if Sadie’s eyes are green or brown as they look at her with such longing from behind her sexy little boot. But she looks so beautiful, so innocent, and so defenceless.

The tingling in Sadie’s head would probably be unbearable, if she could feel it.

But Jane can feel it. And she’s enjoying it. She’s enjoying it much more than usual. She’s enjoying it a lot.

10 Life; Reality

It’s Tuesday afternoon and Sadie is sitting at her desk. She’s starting to gain traction with this old paper accounts thing. All tedious, repetitive jobs have a kind of rhythm to them, she thinks, and if you can just lock into that rhythm, it all becomes automatic, to the point where even as you work, your mind is free to ponder nonsensical theories like this one.

Perhaps it is this sense that she’s really getting to grips with her work that is making her feel so positive. But it’s probably just because she had that meeting with Jane earlier. After all, who could fail to be lifted by spending some time with Jane? Oh, she’d really love to be licking Jane’s pussy right now...

Oh.

Yeah.

And that’s the other thing.

For some reason she’s feeling... no, not horny; that’s not it. But she is feeling... sexy.

She can’t remember too much about the meeting, other than that it was far too short. But she can remember Jane’s legs. Some people might say that that skirt was far too short too, but Sadie would have to disagree. Jane’s legs are just... Well, they’re just... Anyway Sadie loves them. And she wants to stroke them and kiss them and lick them. And if Jane would just open them a little...

Oh!

And these are the thoughts that are flowing freely around her mind while another part of her brain maintains the rhythm that is crucial to the efficient processing of the old paper accounts.

Rachel’s quiet this afternoon. Sadie has not noticed this as such, but she is glad that Rachel has not asked her how she is getting on. She’s on a roll—she’s ploughing through the work—and she wants to have made the best progress she possibly can when Rachel does finally ask her for an update.

Sadie likes Rachel.

She wants to be a good assistant to her.

She wants to do her best for her.

She wants Rachel to be pleased with her.

She wants to please Rachel.

11 A New Outlook

It’s Wednesday morning. Sadie generally gets in early for work. She’s very work-focused; she likes to just get stuck into it as early as she can. And at the moment she has a particular incentive with this old paper accounts stuff because she’s really keen to do a good job for Rachel. And of course, this is also where Jane is, or will be later.

Olivia Charles must be in early today too, because an email arrives:

Hello Sadie,

Jane suggested we should invite you over to our place one evening. I think it’s a fabulous idea and Jane’s really keen. So, sorry it’s very short notice, but might you be available tonight?

Regards,

Olivia

Sadie has to read it several times. She can’t believe it. Spending a whole evening with Jane? What more could she ask for? And for some reason she has a vague feeling of... success? triumph?... at the prospect of spending some time with Olivia too. She really doesn’t know where that’s coming from.

Maybe it’s just because... well, Olivia’s so beautiful isn’t she? It’s nice to be around beautiful people, Sadie supposes.

Anyway, without giving any thought to what an evening with Jane and Olivia might actually involve, she quickly accepts the invitation.

The email exchange continues as arrangements are proposed and confirmed. Olivia seems really nice from her emails. Sadie feels like they could become good friends. They have at least one common interest after all.

To say Sadie has high hopes for this evening would be an understatement. She fears it’s going to be very difficult for her to focus on her work today. But at the same time, she also knows that it won’t be.

And it isn’t.

12 The Back Seat

Sadie has a car, but as Hepworth’s happens to be not far from her house, she walks to work. Thus, at five-thirty, as they had arranged at ten-past-eight this morning, Sadie and Olivia meet up in reception and make their way together to Olivia’s car.

Of course this isn’t the first time that Sadie has met Olivia face-to-face; they were briefly introduced on her first day. But it feels like the first time. And really—really—it is.

She expects it to be at least a little awkward, getting into the car of this beautiful woman she barely knows and accompanying her back to her house. But Olivia seems to be absolutely at ease with the situation, and this relaxed attitude is contagious.

The only remotely awkward moment comes when Sadie is about to open the front passenger door and Olivia pulls a face that tells her no. Sadie had assumed that since Jane isn’t here, she must be making her own way home. She assumed that Jane must have her own car.

It turns out though that Olivia and Jane go through a peculiar charade each evening on their way home. Jane leaves first on foot, and then Olivia just happens to pass by in her car, and she stops to give Jane a lift.

They do this even though it seems as though everyone at work knows that they are living together as a couple. Sadie bets this is Jane’s idea. Certainly Olivia seems almost embarrassed when she explains that they’ll be picking Jane up along the way. But of course Sadie doesn’t mind getting in the back instead—especially since she now knows that Jane will soon be getting into the front.

As they set off they talk about work. Sadie knows that Olivia is much further up in the company than she is, yet it feels like a conversation between equals. She puts this down to Olivia’s niceness and generosity. She is finding that she likes Olivia a lot.

Only a few minutes into their journey they just happen to pass—surprise, surprise—Jane, making her way home on foot. Olivia pulls over and suddenly there is a third person in the car—and Sadie quickly realises that it is she.

Had Olivia been a doting mother picking up her beloved daughter Jane from school, the tone of their conversation would scarcely have been different. And yet for all that this conversation feels a little odd coming from sexual partners, Sadie can’t help but listen intently. Because just like Olivia, she too is interested to hear every detail of everything that Jane has done today.

So she understands entirely that Olivia seemed to forget all about her the moment Jane got into the car. In Olivia’s position, Sadie knows that she’d have behaved in exactly the same way.

Of course, Sadie isn’t in Olivia’s position. And from her own position, she realises now that she cannot actually see Jane. More importantly, she can’t see Jane’s legs.

Certain that no one is paying any attention to her anymore, she shuffles across the back seat to the other side of the car. And from her new vantage point she soon witnesses Olivia reaching across and touching Jane’s thighs—and between Jane’s thighs—in a manner that is quite unlike a mother with her daughter.

And Sadie’s head tingles, though she cannot feel that. All she feels is wet.

And she looks at Olivia’s beautiful hand touching Jane’s beautiful legs.

And she wants Olivia’s beautiful hand to touch her like that.

And she wants her hand to be touching Jane’s beautiful thighs like that.

And without even noticing, she begins to touch herself, exactly like that.

13 Flat

As she follows Olivia and Jane up the stairs of Olivia’s very nice apartment building, Sadie has the feeling that she has already embarrassed herself. She’s fairly sure that Olivia saw that she was masturbating in the back seat of the car. And whether or not Olivia did realise what she was doing, Sadie knows that she should have stopped doing it before Olivia had parked the car, and certainly before Olivia got out of the car.

But in fact she isn’t really embarrassed—not quite. And she knows that she couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to, because she had wanted to, and she couldn’t stop. So that was that.

Sadie is watching Olivia’s bottom as they walk. And her hand has again slipped under the waistband of her trousers. Her head is tingling. But of course she cannot be aware of that.

Anyway, if Olivia did see, she doesn’t seem to have been at all put out by it. And that is leading Sadie to start wondering—for the first time—what exactly they’re going to be spending the evening doing. Although it has to be said, she’s also wondering what Olivia would look like naked.

The front door of the flat opens straight into the main living area. As they enter, Jane heads off in one direction and Olivia in another, and Sadie is left standing near the front door, not knowing what to do. She is unaware that she is masturbating. More accurately, she is no longer aware that she shouldn’t be masturbating.

Perhaps it is just the knowledge that Jane and Olivia really live in this living area that has her so aroused. Perhaps it’s the thought of what they might get up to together on that sofa over there. But the truth is that she’s too aroused to take much in, and it’s questionable whether she really even knows where she is.

Certainly she doesn’t notice when Jane returns to the room.

“Take your clothes off, Sadie.”

It’s said so casually but it doesn’t even occur to Sadie to question whether she should comply.

She has to extricate her right hand in order to start unbuttoning her blouse. As her clothes come off, her awareness of her surroundings increases.

Jane is to her right. And she can hear kitchen sounds coming from her left—the direction that Olivia went off in. Olivia must be doing something probably banal in the kitchen. And here she is, standing in the living room, already down to just her bra and panties.

And now it’s just her panties.

And now she is naked.

Her hand slips back between her legs. If it is strange that she’s thinking about Olivia rather than Jane as she masturbates, it does not seem so to her. But then it doesn’t seem strange to her that she’s standing naked in Olivia’s flat, masturbating.

When Olivia emerges from the kitchen, it’s evident that she too hadn’t been fully briefed on the agenda for the evening.

“Oh! Are we...?”

“Yes!” calls out Jane.

“Right,” says Olivia. “Give me a minute.”

Sadie doesn’t have much sense of the time passing.

She’s standing with Olivia in a corner of the living area that has been turned into some kind of photographic studio.

“It’s Jane’s latest hobby,” explains Olivia, almost proudly, back in doting mother mode. It doesn’t seem to bother her that Sadie is naked, or that she’s fingering herself. But then, showing a level of concern of which Sadie feels entirely unworthy, Olivia does ask, “Are you OK, Sadie?”

“I’m fine,” says Sadie. “It’s just that... I can’t stop.”

“It’s OK,” says Olivia, putting a comforting arm around Sadie’s shoulders. “You just do what you need to do.”

“Thanks,” says Sadie.

Olivia is just a wonderful person. And Sadie isn’t fit to lick her...

“OK,” says Jane. “I’m going to start recording and we’ll just see what happens.”

What happens is that a (not at all) very tingly Sadie finds herself standing alone... somewhere. And then Olivia enters that space. And Olivia seems to have a firm grasp of what’s going on.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? A naked girl! What is your name child?”

Is Olivia acting? What’s going on? Not for the first time—though it feels like the first time—Sadie finds she can talk without thinking.

“It’s... Sadie. My name is Sadie.”

“My dear, I am Queen Olivia Mind, and you shall address me as my queen.“

Oh, of course...

“I’m sorry, my queen. My name is Sadie, my queen.”

“Better, my child, better. So tell me, who is your owner, little one?”

“I... I have no owner, my queen. At least... none that I know of.”

Olivia—Queen Olivia Mind—smiles. She is so beautiful.

“Look into my eyes, my child. Look deep into my eyes.”

Sadie looks into the eyes of Queen Olivia Mind. Whatever is happening to her head, all she knows is that it isn’t tingling.

Those eyes. Those beautiful hypnotic eyes. She could lose herself in those eyes. She could lose herself completely. And she is quite sure that she already has.

“Now, tell me again, what is your name, my child?”

She doesn’t even try to think. Words will come without thinking. Those eyes.

“I have no name, my queen.”

“And who owns you, my child?”

Those beautiful eyes.

“You do, my queen. I am yours—mind, body and soul.”

“Then kneel before your queen, my little one.”

She drops to her knees as if to worship. Queen Olivia Mind is not wearing shoes, although she is wearing tights under her trousers. Oddly she’s dressed more like an office worker than the majestic Queen of Minds she is. Regardless, somehow it feels natural to lean forward and begin to kiss and lick those feet.

“Very good, my child. Very good indeed. You lick just like a cat. Why don’t you be my little kitty? I think I will call you Pussy.”

Pussy is pleased to have a name. If she could, she’d be purring. She wants to flick her tail. Instead she interrupts her licking to convey her gratitude.

“Thank you, my queen.”

“Now, now: little Pussy does not talk,” says her queen, admonishing her ever-so gently.

Of course. Of course. Silly little Pussy.

And now things start to become a little weird.

Sadie does know that she’s not really Pussy. She knows she’s not a cat. But something happens—she doesn’t know what it is but suddenly she knows that she can’t stop this. She can’t stop being silly little Pussy.

And Olivia... Olivia is just Olivia. But she’s also Queen Olivia Mind. And Sadie wants to tell her queen how magnificent she is. Sadie wants to tell her that she loves her. She wants to tell her that she’d do anything for her. She wants to tell her everything that she’s feeling.

But she can’t.

All she can do is be Pussy, the silly little cat.

It’s like a frustration dream. And it almost ruins her fun.

Almost.

She doesn’t realise Olivia is disrobing until the foot she’s licking steps out from under her tongue. Looking up she discovers that Olivia is already topless and the trousers are next. In an impressively short space of time, a naked Olivia is joining Pussy on the floor.

Olivia is beautiful; everyone knows that. But Olivia naked is truly a thing to behold. Her breasts are amazing; her pussy is so inviting. You’d have to tell her. But if you can’t...

Pussy can only make such silly little mewling noises. But she can nuzzle, and of course she can lap with her tongue. That pussy really is so inviting. And if she stretches her front legs up Olivia’s body, she can paw at those perfect breasts too.

It will just have to do.

What surprises Pussy the most is the very real response that her silly little tongue is able to elicit from Olivia. She had not expected this. Up to this point she has never thought of Olivia as a sexual animal at all. But now...

Olivia’s delicious pussy is hot and it is very wet. And Olivia’s hands are pressing Pussy’s head down really quite hard. And Olivia’s mouth is saying things that Pussy did not think Olivia’s mouth would ever say. And it is clear to Pussy now that Olivia is a very sexual animal. And Pussy is pleased, because she’s starting to realise that she is a very sexual animal too.

It never stops. This being Pussy thing never stops. That darn cat...

Even when Olivia is licking Pussy’s silly little pussy, there are no words. There are just these sounds, these vaguely cat-like sounds. It’s awful—the worst thing ever. But the pleasure is real for all that, and maybe her embarrassment even enhances it.

Eventually Olivia needs a break but Pussy, unable to stop, simply lies there masturbating. And then someone who sounds like Jane shouts, “Catnip!” And then something is rolling on the floor near to Pussy. In an amazing display of athleticism she flips herself over and pounces on it. It’s just a little plastic ball inside a green woollen cover. But it smells like...

And now she’s on her back again, in the throes of some incredible sexual wave, yet somehow managing to tease her clit with the little ball with well-controlled gentleness so as to maintain a near-continuous release. And for the duration of this unbelievable orgasm, she is unaware of everything: herself, her location, her predicament, Olivia, Jane, or Jane’s camera, which is recording every moment in a very tight close-up.

It must be later now, because it always is.

They’re feeding her. They hold out morsels of food for her, and make encouraging noises, and she goes to them and takes the offered food from their hands with her mouth. And in return, she licks them wherever they want her to. But really, it’s always the same place.

They’re amused by her. She knows this. They smile, and laugh. They’re teasing her because she can’t stop being silly little Pussy. But if she doesn’t think about it too much, it’s really just a game they’re all playing together. And she doesn’t mind if they tease her anyway; she is just glad to be here.

Olivia is still naked. Jane’s still wearing her work clothes, but her ridiculous skirt is no impediment at all to opening her legs wide. Oddly, licking Jane’s hairy pussy just feels like a part of the game. It doesn’t occur to Pussy that this is something she has been longing to do. But every time she licks Olivia there’s a real spark and it’s very apparent that Olivia feels it too.

It’s during those short sessions between Olivia’s legs that Pussy starts to feel and hear the purring—her purring. When she’s purring it becomes harder to keep track of everything. But she finds that losing track of everything is really not a problem at all.

She’s lying in a nice soft place. And it’s a warm place. And it smells of them.

And they are both with her, both naked, either side of her, in this soft, warm place. And they are soft and warm. And she is soft and warm.

And it smells of them. And they smell of them. And she smells of them.

And they smile. And she smiles. And it’s soft and warm. And she feels warm and relaxed. Hands, positioning; limbs arranging themselves; warm soft bodies touching; warm soft smiles. And now the beautiful one—the one who is love—is in front, and she’s kissing Pussy. And the other one—the one who is everything else—is pressed up close behind.

And they have toys for her to play with: both of them, at the same time. And the toys are not soft. And that is exactly what Pussy needs: two toys stroking her, pushing deep, and then deeper, inside her—hurting her even. But there is no teasing now. This is real. This is love. And this love runs deep, and then deeper.

She is the centre of their attention, the focus of their love. And their soft warm love is so hard, so real, that it hurts. Oh shit, it hurts. And it’s so good. Yes. Yes. It’s so good. Because real love does hurt. It does. It does.

And she is in kitty heaven now, there is no question. And she thinks that they are in kitty heaven too.

And the purring... oh... the purring...

It makes it so hard to think. So hard to... think. So hard to... Just so, so hard...

Hard.

Hard.

Harder.

Please.

Please.

Please.

14 Flat Out

Time disappears, and events disappear in Sadie’s tingling head.

She’s sitting naked on the end of a bed in a room she doesn’t remember entering. And it’s weird because for some reason she really wants to remember something but she doesn’t even know what it is, so how can she hope to remember it?

“I bet she forgets all about it,” says Jane, who sounds like she’s stretched out on the bed behind Sadie.

“Oh I don’t think she could forget something like that,” says Olivia. It sounds like her focus is elsewhere. She seems to be walking around, picking things up off the floor.

“She’ll forget all about it,” says Jane, possibly yawning. “After all, you already have.“

“Have what?” says Olivia, still showing little sign of interest in the conversation.

“Oh I don’t know,” says Jane. “Probably nothing.”

“Right,” says Olivia, eventually. And then, after a further pause, “What was I doing?”

Sadie wants to cry. But she doesn’t know why.

15 The Lift

After an evening spent feeling so insignificant, Sadie thinks it incredibly generous of Olivia to drive her home. And this time she’s even allowed to sit in the passenger seat, because Jane has already retired to bed.

Of course that makes Olivia’s generosity seem all the greater, because Sadie knows that Olivia could be at home in bed with Jane. And who wouldn’t be there right now, if they could?

“So, did you enjoy this evening?” asks Olivia.

Sadie has to give the matter some thought. In truth she can make very little sense of what happened this evening. But she remembers Olivia’s naked body. In particular, she remembers Olivia’s amazing breasts. And she certainly remembers Olivia’s pussy, and how it tasted. Maybe that should be making this a little awkward, but it doesn’t seem to be.

“I’m not sure enjoy is the word I’d use. But it was incredible, thank you.“

“Oh, don’t thank me; I really didn’t know what was happening most of the time. I generally just let Jane get on with organising things. She enjoys all that.“

“Do you do this often then?”

“Not this, no. We’ve never had someone over before—although I really enjoyed it. No, what I meant was that I just let Jane get on with organising what we do together.”

“You mean evenings out?”

“Oh, no. We hardly ever go out. I just mean that Jane organises what we do together at home. Like, her latest hobby is this photography and film-making thing. So she might want me to model for her, say—because there’s no one else available, right? So, you know, I might spend my evening doing that. Or, sometimes we just watch the telly together, you know, like any couple. And then other times... well, you know...“

Sadie thinks she does know, although she’s more interested in this photography and film-making thing. It’s the first she’s heard about it. She’s imagining Olivia spending an evening modelling for Jane. She’s not sure yet why this is such an exciting thought.

“Do you model... naked for her?“

“Of course—if that’s what she wants. And now I come to think of it, it always is.”

Olivia’s smiling. Sadie doesn’t know how to ask what she’s desperate to know.

“Are they...? Is it...?”

Olivia chuckles.

“Sometimes she wants me to do sexual things, if that’s what you’re trying to ask. And I bet it is.”

Sadie feels embarrassed by her own timidity, and in awe of Olivia’s cool. Olivia is awesome. Olivia is beautiful, sexy, cool; she’s perfect really. And sitting here in her presence just being so obviously imperfect, and inferior in every way, is making Sadie feel incredibly turned on.

But even more than that, now, the very idea of Olivia doing “sexual things” for Jane is doing something to Sadie that is mind-blowing and incomprehensible. Sadie would do anything for Jane of course, but it seems just possible that beautiful, sexy, cool Olivia would too. And thinking about that is making Sadie seriously contemplate starting to masturbate again—or giving up resisting that urge.

She doesn’t do that, but she does allow herself to fantasise about Jane asking her to do something sexual for this camera of hers. Some hope, but a girl can dream.

“You’re very lucky,” she says, trying to keep her breathing under control.

Olivia lets her smile show in her voice.

“I know. Are you jealous?”

“I’m jealous of both of you.”

“Aw! You’re sweet!”

Olivia reaches across and rests her hand on Sadie’s thigh. Sadie can’t help but gasp. Her legs open involuntarily. Olivia does not hide her amusement at these reactions, which of course only intensifies the effect.

“What do you think of Jane?” she asks, leaving her hand where it is. God she’s good at this.

It doesn’t occur to Sadie to be coy regarding how she feels about Olivia’s partner. After all, it’s obvious that Olivia already knows the truth and that she wants to hear it.

“She’s incredible!” Sadie gushes. “I love her. I absolutely love her. And she’s so... I mean, well I don’t have to tell you that. But I mean, she’s just... And her legs are... And I’d do anything for her. I mean...“

In an interesting variation on putting her finger to Sadie’s lips, Olivia moves her hand to between Sadie’s legs, just leaving it resting lightly against the crotch of her trousers. She doesn’t have to do anything more. Just having Olivia’s hand there is enough to make Sadie shut up and get on with coming.

“I love her too, of course,” says Olivia, not bothering to wait for Sadie’s full attention. “And I’m glad you feel the same way because...” Her hand moves back to the gear stick, where it’s needed. “Well, because... that turns me on...”

It sounds like a realisation. Olivia may be the omniscient superwoman in the car, but this is evidently the first time that she has put her finger on how she’s feeling.

“Oh... Me too...” gasps Sadie. “I mean, it turns me on that you feel the same way... But... I don’t know... I couldn’t believe it, you know... I don’t know if I should say this but... I couldn’t believe it when I found out that you’re a lesbian...“

“Oh I’m not a lesbian,” Olivia says casually. And then she chuckles. “Now this is where Jane would point out that I have a funny way of showing it. But really I’m not. It’s only with Jane. And I mean, it’s different with Jane because she’s just so... Well, you know what I mean, obviously.”

She pauses.

“Mind you, maybe now... I mean, I might need to rethink that because...”

Her hand drifts briefly back to Sadie’s knee and she gives it a quick squeeze. Sadie tries not to melt again.

“...Yeah, I might need to rethink that. I don’t know. But how about you? You’re a proper lesbian, right?“

Though it is asked almost jokingly, it’s an unexpectedly difficult question to answer.

“I’m... yeah... I’m... I mean, it’s women definitely but... I don’t know. I guess I’d have to say I’m a little bi.”

“Oh wow,” says Olivia, sounding flatteringly interested. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this but when I first met you I had you down as a straight-up lesbian, if you know what I mean.“

Sadie knows that Olivia is right. She knows that she’s a lesbian. But what’s making this difficult is the discrepancy between her sexuality as she understands it, and her sexual history as she remembers it. In fact there seem to be nothing but discrepancies. But then, the one thing she really knows with any certainty about her sexuality is this:

“To be honest I’ve never really known exactly what I am.”

Despite that certainty, Sadie sounds bewildered, and even slightly troubled. Olivia tries to keep things light.

“Oh, well, I suppose I’m joining you in that club,” she says, brightly.

“Oh I don’t think I’ve ever really been worried by it,” says Sadie, quickly taking the hint. “But yeah, I suppose we’re both doing a bit of rethinking. I don’t know. I mean, I know I’ve always been into women really, but this... I mean, this is something else. I can’t believe I didn’t get it at first... I didn’t get Jane... I don’t know why that was... I mean, it’s so obvious that she’s... you know. But now, it kind of turns me on just knowing that I do get her...“

Olivia laughs.

“You don’t get Jane, silly! She gets you!“

Sadie chuckles. “Well, yeah, maybe that’s closer to it.”

“It really is,” says Olivia, suddenly quite serious. She has arrived at a further truth and she passes it on immediately. “It turns me on that she’s got me. And it turns you on that she’s got you. And it turns you on that she’s got me. And it turns me on that she’s got you. And... I hope I didn’t miss one of those...”

Sadie’s still smiling but the truth in Olivia’s assertion slowly hits home.

“Wow... That’s it, isn’t it? That’s exactly it...”

Olivia nods, but Sadie doesn’t see that. She’s staring at nothing in particular on the dashboard. Then her eyes shift to Olivia’s beautiful left hand on the wheel. Her mind plays with the idea that it’s a hand that belongs to Jane, and possibly that explains why just looking at it turns her on. But then maybe it’s just because it’s such a sexy hand.

Somehow she knows that they’re both trying to put into words something that cannot be expressed. The Truth, she realises, isn’t a thing; it’s everything. So how do you begin to describe it? What matters is that they both feel the same way. What matters is that Jane has got Sadie and Jane has got Olivia. What matters is that looking at Olivia’s hand turns her on. What matters is that she’s sitting in a car with Olivia, silently staring at her hand, and just enjoying the pleasure.

Sitting in a car with Olivia...

The car is an extension of Olivia. It’s expensive, well cared for, immaculately turned out. And it’s warm. And it smells lovely. And Sadie feels safe and warm. She’s in Olivia’s care. She’s in Olivia’s beautiful hands. She’s sitting here where, just a few hours earlier, Jane was sitting, talking like an excited schoolgirl. And now she remembers just a few minutes ago trying to describe to Olivia how she feels about Jane, and she realises what she must have sounded like. But she doesn’t feel embarrassed; she feels... blissfully happy. And she feels safe, and warm. And she’s looking at Olivia’s hand. And she’s smiling...

The car slows, the clicking of the indicator for some reason sounding louder in the dark than it ever would in daylight. And now Olivia’s beautiful hand is turning the wheel.

“This is your road, right?”

Sadie drifts out of her reverie.

“Oh. Yeah, this is it. It’s number 80.” She can’t hide her disappointment at the journey being near its end.

“Here?” asks Olivia.

“Yeah. Oh, there’s no need to pull in. You can just... drop me...”

But Olivia is already pulling into Sadie’s drive. The car stops. She pulls on the handbrake, turns off the engine, and turns to Sadie.

“The thing is,” she says, resting her left hand lightly on Sadie’s thigh, and then her right hand on Sadie’s knee, “It really turns me on that Jane’s got you. I mean, really.“

She squeezes Sadie’s thigh.

They stare into each other’s eyes.

“It’s funny,” says Sadie. “I was just thinking how you’re right up my street.”

16 A Kiss Goodnight

Sadie is sitting on her sofa, naked from the waist down, her long legs wide open. Between them kneels Olivia, her mouth covering Sadie’s pussy, her hands grasping, stroking, tickling those lovely smooth thighs.

Sadie comes quietly. It’s the only control she has. But she comes again and again. Her hips intermittently start to buck. Her legs occasionally wrap themselves around Olivia’s shoulders; then they open wide again. But nothing brings comfort, and even coming is barely a release at all.

It is beyond her to think that the tongue working her clit belongs to Jane, or even that her clit belongs to Jane. But she doesn’t have to think it for it to be true. That specific idea is beyond her too, of course. But what she does at least have some sense of is the feeling that what she’s experiencing is completely inescapable, and all she can do therefore is surrender to it.

Olivia wants to keep going until Sadie stops coming. She wants to help scratch that itch. She wants to sate that need. But it is becoming apparent that Sadie isn’t going to stop.

And so Olivia begins to wind down her operations. Her mouth disengages. Her licking becomes less intense, intended to cool down rather than fire up. And soon she is kissing and licking the inside of Sadie’s thigh. And then she’s standing, and leaning in to look Sadie close-up in the eye.

“I just wanted to say goodnight properly,” she says softly, smiling.

“Thank you,” gasps Sadie. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Olivia pulls a face that conveys real sympathy for this poor creature. It’s a look that raises Sadie’s hopes but Olivia just leans in further for a quick kiss on the lips and then says, “I’ll let myself out.”

And she leaves—just like that.

Sadie is simultaneously too exhausted and too exhilarated to respond in any way at all.

Except...

Her fingers arrive automatically at her pussy.

17 Mixed Feelings

Somehow Sadie is getting on with her work, even though her head is all over the place.

In the cold light of Thursday, she is a little worried about Jane. She didn’t feel this way at the time but now she can’t help thinking that Jane was a little unfriendly towards her last night. She can’t put her finger on any one thing—she can’t really put her finger on anything that happened last night. And yet somehow she feels... well she might even go so far as to say that Jane was a little cruel to her.

She wouldn’t mind that, of course, even if she knew it were true. Jane can treat her any way she wants. But does Jane want her? If she doesn’t, that would be the cruellest thing imaginable.

On the other hand, she has very clear memories of her time with Olivia at the end of the night. That was beautiful—incredible. But such is her current level of insecurity that she’s starting to wonder if that might possibly have been just a dream. She hasn’t spoken to Olivia today just in case some such awful truth should be revealed.

It’s not uncommon to experience these kinds of irrational insecurities the day after a sexual encounter, but it is unusual for Sadie. Sadie is not at all used to feeling insecure.

So these are the thoughts buzzing around her head as the clock nudges towards lunchtime. Rachel is out of the office again this afternoon and she has already left. She still hasn’t asked Sadie for an update on her progress with the old paper accounts. But she was a little more communicative this morning, and a little closer to her normal dryly humorous self.

Perhaps that had something to do with the skirt that Sadie decided to wear this morning. It’s not ridiculously short; it’s perfectly acceptable office attire. But it is a lot shorter than anything she’s ever worn for an office job before. In fact, she has always worn trousers for work. And really Sadie’s legs are so incredible that revealing them to any degree seems like a deliberate act of sexual provocation.

Sadie knows just what she has down there, and she does like to show them off occasionally—just not at work. But it occurred to her this morning that it might please Rachel to see them. And she has a feeling that it did.

There’s a knock at the door and Jane enters. Sadie is suddenly on tenterhooks. But things look to be OK as Jane gives her a very friendly smile.

“Hi Sadie, I’ve brought you your sandwich. How are you this morning?”

Sadie quite unexpectedly feels something squirting. Or she thinks she does.

Jane has got Sadie. And it turns Sadie on. But she can still talk, if that’s all Jane wants her to do.

“Oh I’m fine thanks, Jane, fine. And, hey, thanks for last night.”

Hidden beneath her desk, Sadie’s thighs open as wide as her skirt will allow.

“Oh, well, that was... Anyway, listen. I’ve got a meeting of the Social And Charity Committee in ten minutes.”

“Oh. Right...”

“And I think you should come along. I think we definitely need another person on the committee, and you’d be perfect.”

“Oh, well, I...”

“It’s in Meeting Room 3. So, I’ll see you there in ten minutes.”

Jane is already leaving.

“Right. OK. Sure,” says Sadie, to a closing door.

Her hand is already between her legs as she stares, disbelieving, at the closed door.

She won’t need ten minutes. She already doesn’t.