The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Corelle D’Amber was smaller than I had imagined from her pictures. She was about five foot six and her handshake was firm. Her auburn hair was cut in a drape that rested on her shoulders. It occurred to me that she wore bangs to partially cover the tie-string of her eye patch. Not that the patch wasn’t a fashion statement of its own. The material of it was the same as her charcoal jacket and skirt. I liked the fact she was wearing flats. I liked her earrings, which looked like mathematical infinity symbols in silver. In fact, there wasn’t much I didn’t like about what I could see. If ever there was a feminist role model for making good in the male business world, I was looking at her.

“Good morning, Agents Menke and Connor. How can I help the FBI today?” she had a nice voice. A little deeper than I expected for her size. She motioned us to seats. I let Menke answer the question, as the senior agent.

“We have an inquiry in progress and we’d like to ask a few questions. You were shot last year on your estate by a sniper.” Menke was giving D’Amber his famous unblinking snake eye. The one that made honest people feel guilty. Watching him work was a pleasure.

D’Amber nodded, “Yes. Unfortunately. I thought the case was closed since you found the man.” She was good and solid. It was my job to sit and watch everything she did in response to the questions. They teach us how to act as portable lie detectors. D’Amber had the composure of a queen. I matched the facts in her file to the person behind the glass top desk. Age forty-nine, but she could pass for forty. Unmarried. Reclusive lifestyle. Probably bi-sexual but extremely discreet or undersexed. Her financial empire was growing every year. Made her first million in her early thirties by managing other people’s money.

Now she owned sizable minority shares in over thirty small to medium sized corporations. She put capital into the hands of inventors and startups in exchange for ownership. She was very good at it. Forbes magazine had called her ‘the most successful entrepreneur since Edison.’

“We found a man, a rifle and enough physical evidence to tie the two together. Since the man was dead when we found him, the Bureau can not simply assume that the shooter was the man we found. We are trying to close the file now,” Menke plunged ahead, “We noticed that there is no indication of which hospital you were sent to for trauma. We know that Dr. Adler is your own physician. Were you in a hospital?”

“No. My staff are not accustomed to such emergencies but Dr. Adler lives five minutes from my estate. She was called and came over immediately. I suppose no one wanted to move me. I think an ambulance was called, but Dr. Adler was already treating me when they arrived. I think I was on the kitchen table. You really should talk to Dr. Adler.” She smiled.

“We have,” Menke just kept going, “Dr. Adler is a general practitioner with little experience in gun shots. Did you ask the doctor to treat you at the house? Did the doctor tell you or did you tell the doctor? I’m asking because some people in your position get used to telling people what to do.”

D’Amber smiled, it was a thin smile, it hit me that she didn’t like that last bit. “I did not. My preferred method is to let experts do what they do best. I like to pick good people and let them do excellent work. I imagine that’s what the doctor told you, too. Are you thinking that Dr. Adler is involved? I’m asking because some people in your position get used to complex conspiracies behind every unfortunate incident.”

Wow. Menke stopped with his next question frozen in place. I smothered a grin. I hadn’t seen that coming and neither had he. D’Amber was a fast thinker with pointed wit. This was getting interesting. Unfortunately, we had just shot our wad. Trying to figure out if Suzie Adler was part of the breach of security at D’Amber’s estate seemed like a dead end. Talking to D’Amber herself had been our last footnote in that theory.

We just didn’t know who had tried to kill her. Right now, the ‘official’ theory was that the guy was a professional thief who intended to use the confusion of her being shot to slip into the place and have free run for an hour. Except the shooter had a heart attack climbing down from his perch and fell to his death. That was the coroner’s report.

It was just odd. Menke and I didn’t like that version. But there wasn’t anything else to go on. We were done.

Menke let the moment drag a bit, since he’d lost momentum anyway. I waited to see how he was going to bail himself out. “Ms. D’Amber, the Bureau is as concerned for your welfare as you are. The file is still open because we want to make sure there will be no repeat performance of someone trying to kill you. Billionaires make enemies in our experience.”

“I imagine you’ve investigated my enemies?” Simple. Direct. She could work for us.

“Yes, we have. Is there anyone else you haven’t told us about? Anyone—”

“Recent? No. I’m afraid that I don’t have anything else to offer.” D’Amber waited.

Well, that was that. The I got a flash inspiration. “Ms. D’Amber,” I leaned forward a bit, “how are you feeling?”

Her single green eye took me in. “Beg pardon?”

“It’s been fourteen months since you were shot. Very few people are comfortable with that or ever experience it. Have you seen a counselor? Is the wound troubling you? Have you been back to see Dr. Adler recently?”

She watched me watching her, “No, I haven’t seen a therapist. No, the wound isn’t troubling me. Yes, I see Dr. Adler once a year and that was six weeks ago,” she nodded once at me, “I appreciate your concern Agent Connor.” That seemed genuine and gave me another idea.

“Do you know if Dr. Adler has taken recent photographs or measurements of your wound? Is the scarring bad?” I asked, then realized with a start that it was a lousy question. Unsupported.

Menke jumped in, “Conner, that’s not pertinent.” He stood up to cover for me, “Thank you, Ms. D’Amber. That was all we needed to ask. The file will be closing up soon. I think this is the last time you’ll see us.” He reached across and shook her hand as she stood.

Damn. I felt like an idiot. Menke was gonna have my ass when we left. I realized with a start that D’Amber was holding out her hand and shook it.

“No. I’m sure if the doctor had taken photos I would know. The wound is on my back as you know and I was told the scar isn’t bad. I hope that satisfies your questions, Agent Connor.” She smiled.

I just nodded. Argh. She had to be nice about it. Menke was gonna keelhaul me. I felt my face flush.

He waited until we were outside of PolyCorp’s offices. “Doris, would you like tell me what the fuck made you embarrass us both back there. I know you know those questions were way out of line.” Now the mask was off, he was pissed. His forehead wrinkles were running fully across his forehead and practically into his salt and pepper hairline. He was grinding his teeth.

I started to answer. He held up a finger in front of my face, “Which would be O.K. if I thought you were going somewhere. But ’how are you feeling?’ Even a rookie wouldn’t say anything that dumb.”

“It was one of my hunches, Sam.” Shit. I was pretty embarrassed. “When I get a hunch, you know I try it.”

“Yeah, we’ve done pretty well by your hunches.” He nodded, “I’ll give you that, but you sure picked a crappy time to do it wrong.” He waved a hand for emphasis, “Photos of the wound? What the fuck? You take photos of a corpse, Doris. Not a living patient. Why the fuck would Adler take photos of her wound? That’s the dumbest question I’ve ever heard and she could have us cited for harassment.”

Ugh. He was right. Except I hated the way he was telling me, “Look, wiseass. I made a mistake. O.K.? Give me a break.” We exited the building.

He grinned, “Sure. I will, Miss Perfect. I’ll forget about it if you buy lunch.”

“Bastard.” I reflected. Actually, it was an easy out. Of course, I never took the easy out. It was against my feminist principles. “I’ll buy lunch if you write up the report.” Which he preferred to do anyhow.

“Done.” We went to find the car.

That night in my apartment, it came to back to me. It was still bothering me. I hated the fact that I had gone off on such a wacky tangent in front of Menke.

Why had I asked that question? I doodled on my phonepad. A hunch? What sort of hunch? What was I thinking? It was off-kilter.

Off kilter. Yeah. If she was telling us as little as possible, you ask something off the wall to see if it checks with the other witnesses. Now I remembered my dad talking about it. It was an old trick the cops used when leads were slim.

I dialed Adler’s phone number. It rang three times. “Hello, Suzie Adler.”

“Dr. Adler, this is Doris Connor. I have a question we didn’t cover yesterday.”

I heard the sigh on the other end. We had spent an hour with Adler. “Yes. Agent Connor. What question?”

This was good, she was tired. “Did you make any allowance for cosmetic surgery on Ms. D’Amber’s wound? Are there photos of the initial wound or the healing progress?”

“Neither the police nor the FBI have asked about photos. Do you want them? I’d have to ask Ms. D’Amber for a release and I don’t know that she’d give it to you.”

Interesting. Exciting bit of news. “I don’t know that we would need them, doctor. Was there anything unusual about the wound trauma.” I was fishing now.

“No. But I’ve already admitted that I don’t treat high velocity bullet wounds very often.”

True. Maybe we should see the photos. “Doctor, your report says the bullet was deflected by a rib and stopped by her pelvis. The scarring isn’t bad is it? There was no exit wound.”

“We’ve done this to death, Ms. Connor. No. There was no exit wound. Yes. I extracted the bullet from the pelvic area. The exploratory incision healed nicely. There is very little scarring. Internal injuries seem to have healed nicely. She is very lucky. I’d be grateful if you people would try to remember who was the victim here.” Anger in her voice. She really cared about her patient. That fit with everything else so far.

“Thank you, doctor. You’ve been terrific. I’m sorry to bother you again. Good night.” She hung up without saying anything else.

What did I have now? There were photos. Adler was an energetic woman with a great attention to detail. It didn’t shock me that she had photos of the wound. Adler was a lot like D’Amber. Women who got things done.

Like me. Or as I thought of myself. Interesting.

Damn. I was going to play my hunch out.

Corelle D’Amber was wearing a pretty risqué bikini under a loosely belted sunrobe. I’d been watching her from my car on a road outside her estate. This morning she had done about fifty laps in the pool. I was using a 300 power scope. She had a better body than I did. Trim. Athletic. Like a swimmer except she had great tits. She must work out regularly to look that good. I was twenty years younger than she was and my ass wasn’t that tight. Mark it up to feminine jealousy.

The only odd thing she’d done all morning was take two naps. Lucky her.

Unfortunately, even with the scope, I couldn’t tell if she had a back scar. That’s why I was now walking across the pool deck behind her housekeeper. I’d taken the chance no one had told the staff I wasn’t welcome.

The housekeeper announced me and left. I felt good about that. I’d been wondering if D’Amber wouldn’t just toss me out.

“Would you like anything to drink Agent Connor?” Damn if she didn’t have an eye patch of the same spandex material as her damn thong. What I really wanted was for her to take off the robe and turn around so I could see her back. See the scar for myself. How was I going to do that? Why did I think it was important?

“No. Thank you. I have another question for you.”

“I surmised.” I loved her voice. She had a dryness behind the things that she said. She wasn’t pissed at all. Like the other day when I asked the awkward questions at her office, she was cool as ice.

I pointed to the garden. “You were over there when you were shot.”

“As you know, yes.” She nodded.

“I’m impressed Ms. D’Amber. You’re not afraid it will happen again, are you? I don’t see any bodyguards. There’s nothing to suggest you’ve changed a thing in your life. Most people who’ve been shot would think twice about spending the morning in the open enjoying themselves.”

Her green eye twinkled with humor, “Now I’m supposed to say, ‘I’m not most people’ aren’t I?”

I laughed, “Yes. I guess if this was a cop show you would.” Without the big office and the business suit she was a different person.

“You didn’t come to ask where I was standing.”

“No,” I admitted. I needed her to take off the robe. Damn. I wish I had really planned this. I just felt the mystery of why she had been shot had something to do with her personally. Something she wasn’t telling us. Time to poke her a bit. “You lied to us in your office. You said there were no photos of your injury. Dr. Adler has photos. I guess you don’t want us to see them.”

She watched me. I watched her thinking about it. For no reason that I could imagine, I was thinking about her body under that robe. I wondered if I was horny.

I hadn’t had a guy in two years. The last girl I had sex with was in college.

“You have the Gift.” She picked up her drink and took a sip.

“Oh?” I had no clue as to what she was talking about. So I needed her to keep talking.

“Yes. You know things you haven’t learned yet. You have the Sight. Probably more than a touch of it. I’d say you do very well in your investigative work.” She seemed to be switching this to a cozy chat.

“I do all right,” that was the truth, “but we were talking about the photos.” She must be a New Age freak or something silly. Crystals and pyramids.

“You ask dangerous questions. Would you like to see my wound?” Bingo.

“Yes.” Damn. I sounded way too eager. I shouldn’t tip my hand.

She stood up and unbelted the robe. She slid it off her arms and tossed it on a table. Then she reached for the front clasp on her top.

I flushed. “That’s not necessary,” I blurted.

She unhooked it and took off her top. “I know. I just decided to show you everything.” I felt heat go down my face and neck. Damn. This was embarrassing. I was right about her tits. They were nice.

She hooked her thumbs into her thong and pushed it down her thighs. Wow. She had a wild heavy mat of red bush. Heat and arousal began in my pussy. I had never used my status to ask a woman to strip for me. Even though I hadn’t done so now, it was turning me on. Damn. She stepped out of her thong and tossed it on the table with the other things.

Her body was flawless. Pale, despite the time she spent outdoors. Firm breasts much nicer than mine with hard nipples. Oh boy, I took a second look at her bush. She hadn’t been in the pool for an hour but the mat of red hair was wet and dripping on her thighs. Damn. She was all hotted up.

Was she humiliated by this or was I? Was she getting off on being naked in front of me? Or was I getting off on the way she seemed to be in charge of everything we were doing?

She turned around. Her back was perfect. No scar. No sign of anything. Nothing. There wasn’t a blemish anywhere on her. She was perfect.

She reached up and took off her eye patch and tossed it on her chair.

I was shocked. She was totally naked. Suddenly, I didn’t want her to turn around. I didn’t want to see the terrible wound of her left eye. She was beautiful and it would make the eye that much more hideous. This was out of control. I was an idiot. But there was no scar! She hadn’t been shot. No one heals like that. Out of nowhere, I remembered she had lost her eye in a skiing accident. Crashing into a tree when she was eleven. It was in her file. I had spent way too much time reading that file.

“Well, Doris? Anything else you’d like to see?” I flushed. Now I was hot. Was she asking me to order her around? Bend over, Ms. D’Amber. Pinch your nipples, Ms. D’Amber. Kiss my feet, Ms. D’Amber.

My panties were wet. Crazy thoughts spun in my head. What would it feel like to be ordered around like a bimbo? She was no bimbo. Every instinct I had suddenly was yelling at me to run. Get the hell out of here! Now!

I stood up and felt my panties slide between my legs. They were soaked and pulling at my pussy hairs. Time to go. “There is no scar. You weren’t shot.”

“I was. I heal well. I never scar.” Her hands slid down the outside of her hips. She gripped her ass cheeks and squeezed. She still faced away from me. Waiting for what I might do next.

I watched her fingers massage her tight ass. My nipples were hot. I knew it. She was playing me like an instrument. Daring me to do something. What? Dominate her? Fuck her right here by the pool? I’d much rather she—.

She whirled around slowly like in a dream. Damn! Her eye—

—Sex. She was so powerful. Hot. I was so wet. She could have any woman she wanted and she wanted me. My small tits. My lack of curves. My skinny ass. God, that was hot! Horny. Never happy with what I saw in my mirror. She was perfection. Horny. Would she order me around? Could I handle that? So ready to come. I got down on my hands and knees. I could smell her sex. Dripping. I wanted her to sit on my face. Cum on my face. Show me your secret power—

I was walking across the pool deck behind her housekeeper. I’d taken the chance no one had told the staff I wasn’t welcome.

The housekeeper announced me and left. I felt good about that. I’d been wondering if Corelle wouldn’t just toss me.

“Would you like anything to drink Agent Connor?” Damn if she didn’t have an eye patch of the same spandex material as her skimpy thong. What I really wanted was for her to take off the robe and turn around so I could kiss her ass.

What? I felt suddenly aroused. What had put that idea into my head? Damn. I needed a vacation if I was going to have sex fantasies in mid-day.

“No. Thank you. I have another question for you.”

“I surmised.” I loved her voice. She had a dryness behind the things that she said. She wasn’t pissed at all. Like the other day when I asked the awkward questions at her office, she was cool as ice. I wanted her to talk again.

I needed her to take off the robe. Damn. I wish I had really planned this. I just felt the mystery of why she had been shot had something to do with her personally. Something she would never tell us. Time to poke her a bit. “You lied to us in your office. You said there were no photos of your injury. Dr. Adler has photos. I guess you don’t want us to see them.”

She watched me. I watched her thinking about it. For no reason that I could imagine, I was thinking about her body under that robe. I was wet and horny. This was embarrassing. Time to go.

“How far did you get?” she asked.

“What?” I had no clue as to what she was talking about.

“You just left. Did you get halfway home? Did you get to your house? Do you remember? Look at the time.” She watched me closely. She thought her question made sense.

I glanced at the time. Damn. It was almost two. I was missing three hours. My ass tightened and my pussy was soaked. I thought very carefully trying to fit her questions into the morning that was suddenly gone. The pool water sparkled off to the left. For some reason that was very distracting.

“I’m not giving you another dose this quickly, Doris. Go home.”

“I can take it. I want it.” What the fuck was I talking about? Time to be gone. I was having a nervous breakdown. I slipped my hand into my purse and pulled out my revolver and leveled it on her. “What have you done to me, you bitch?!”

“What you wanted.” She didn’t look scared. I so wanted her to look scared.

“Strip!” I shouted at her and flicked the gun for emphasis. I saw right away she wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t afraid of the gun.

She came up off the lounge like a cobra. She took the gun out of my hand. She was that fast. But suddenly I remembered what it was I wanted to see. I reached out and pulled the eye patch off her head.

She tried to dodge slowly like in a dream. Damn! Her eye—

—Sex. Powerful. Hot. I was so wet. She wanted me. My sex. My small tits. My lack of curves. My skinny ass. God, that was hot! Horny. Never happy with what I saw in my mirror. She was perfection. Horny. Mistress. Order me. Command me. So ready to come. I got down on my hands and knees. I crawled to her feet. I licked her feet. Savoring each toe. She tasted of musk. I could feel the power in her. I came when she grabbed my hair. I could smell her sex. Dripping. I wanted her to sit on my face. Cum on my face. I knew her secret. She had to keep me now. I was her slave. Pussylicker. I was safe in her protection. What was hers was safe. Hot. Sexy. No man would ever embarrass me again. I played my tongue over her wild red snatch. Her hot legs squeezing my face. I begged her to shame me. That made me hotter. She worked her toes in my pussy. Orgasms. Her secret power was—

I was walking across the pool deck behind her housekeeper. I’d taken the day off now that the case was closed. First time in several years I’d taken a day just because I wanted to. The housekeeper announced me and left. Good. I’d been worried Corelle would just toss me.

“Would you like anything to drink Agent Connor?” She was wearing a bikini that looked like it was green latex painted on. I could see her bush compressed under her thong. Damn if she didn’t have an eye patch of the same material. I loved her style. What I really wanted was to kiss her. The thought made me hot. Somehow, just her presence was an aphrodisiac.

“No. Ma’am. I’m here to let you know the case file is closed. There aren’t any answers to the identity of the shooter. None of his identification really checks out. So he’s still a mystery.”

“You didn’t need to come out here and tell me this personally.” She was sharp. Direct.

“No. Ma’am. I’m here to ask you to take me.” I swallowed. That wasn’t what I wanted to say. Or was it? “Uh. What I meant to say is—.”

She cut in, “How you put it doesn’t matter. I know why you are here.” She looked at me with her good eye. “You have a Gift, Doris. That complicates things. You have a touch of the old blood and that could complicate your life considerably if you hang around with me for long.”

I didn’t know what she meant. But it felt right. She was concerned for me. I sensed great emotion in her. It struck me that she was more than what I saw of her. What did that mean? What was happening?

Talking to her seemed to have dreamlike aspects to it. The sun glinting off the pool. My arousal. It seemed almost like I had done all of this before. I had never been in a private conversation with her, yet I hung on her every word like we were old friends.

And talking to her was making me so hot.

She interrupted my thoughts. “Tell me about your darkest dreams, Doris.” She leaned back in her lounger.

God. This was crazy. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand up and go. I imagined it in my mind but I just sat there. “Well. I haven’t had a boyfriend for about—.”

“No.” She stared at me. “That’s your waking life. Tell me about your dreams. Tell me what happens in your head when the lights are off and you are almost asleep.”

The small hairs on my neck itched and tingled. She seemed totally serious. I do have dreams, everyone does. I didn’t think I could just recall them like flipping a switch. I wanted to do what she asked but I didn’t know how to begin.

“Close your eyes.” She whispered.

I did. The sunshine burned outside my closed eyes. It wasn’t exactly dark.

“Everything is dark. You are aroused. No one is there. You are alone in bed and nearly asleep. You are feeling sexy. Power trembles in your fingertips and your thighs want to be stretched.”

I felt it. My pussy gushed. I shifted in the chair and my panties wrenched my pussy hair into a small tangle that tugged. My slick crotch was burning.

“Tell me what you are wearing.” Her voice was a caress. It was darker now.

“I’m wearing gold nail polish. Toes and fingers. I’ve put it on my nipples, too. I’m naked except for sandal high heels. I’ve painted my mouth with the gold polish, too. I can smell it under my nose. I run my tongue over my lips and they’re hard and slick. I’ve tied old stockings around the bed legs and my ankles. My legs are held wide open. I’m playing with myself.” I could feel it all.

I opened my eyes. She had her fingers inside her thong, she was playing with her pussy. Her nipples were like bullets under her top.

“Maybe you should keep your eyes closed, Doris.” I flushed. This was so hot.

There was something secret between the two of us. Something powerful. I thought hazily about what I had been saying. Weird sex images. Submissive feelings. Like I was waiting for someone to tell me it was all right to love the sex. I never knew I was so sexy. I didn’t have a body to be proud of. I was fit. I was young. I had a great job. I made good money.

What did I want from her? Why did I come? I looked at her shamelessly stimulating herself. Broad daylight. I was horny. This wasn’t helping. She was acting pretty slutty but I was the one who felt embarrassed.

“Tell me why I’m here.” My voice came out husky.

“You said you were here to ask me to take you.” She watched me. Her hand kept rubbing her sex. It seemed her eye never blinked.

“Yes.” I felt numb with heat. I felt liquid running on my thigh.

She extended her foot towards me. “Sit on my foot, Doris.”

Damn. Too bold. Too embarrassing. I got up to leave. I put my hands down and lifted my skirt up to my hips. I stepped over to her and straddled the corner of the lounger, then lowered my wet panties onto her foot. Still holding most of my weight I felt the tendons in the top of her foot rub my thigh and pussy.

I noticed she was wearing green polish on her fingers. Same green as the swim suit. I arched. I forced her foot deeper into my pussy lips.

“Ooooooh!” Me? Was that me? Was I doing this? It felt so good. I closed my eyes again.

Time passed. I rocked on her foot. I was in the dark. She worked her toes past my panties. I welcomed her toes into my sex. Damn! I was in a dream of lust and passion. I pushed down on her perfect foot. I felt her toes wriggle inside my pussy. Brushing, pressing my clit. I was so slick. I hovered near orgasm.

“Would you like to be my little sandal slave girl?”

I flashed on the gold sandals on my closet top shelf. Worn once dancing and never again. I came. I worked my hips. Her foot slurped in my snatch. “Yes, Mistress.” I gasped. My hips kept rocking.

She sighed, “I suppose I can manage that. Very well, you are accepted as my sexy sandal slave. The next time I see you, you’d better be wearing those sandals. Gold, I presume?”

How did she know these things? “Yes, Mistress.”

“And I’d prefer it if you shaved your pussy. In fact, shave every day from the neck down.”

I came again. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you mistress.” God, it was so good. Free. Hot. I didn’t stop working my pussy on her foot.

“Oil your genitals after shaving until I tell you otherwise.”

“OH! Yes, Mistress. Every day.” Stars. Flashes. Command me. So ready to cum and cum.

“If you’re bad enough. Soon I’ll let you lick my pussy and I’ll cum on your face.”

Ooooooooooooooh! Gasping. Cumming. “Y-y-yes, Mis-tress!”

“Mine only, Doris! No one else. This is between you and I. No matter who else I might choose, you and I will talk of what we have as special. No one else is to know of this. I have your understanding, yes?”

Gasping. Cumming. “Y-y-yes, Mis-tress! Only you.”

The dark dream was real. She was real.

“You don’t ever take this to work, Doris. I won’t ask you to deny yourself on your own time, but never at work. No sandals. No slave girl at the office.” As if I would do this ever again.

I let my hair fall over my face. I looked down at her leg under my skirt. “Yes. Mistress. Never at the office.”

“That’s a good slave. Now dismount and lick my foot clean. Get on your knees.”

I moved quickly as she had directed. I got on my knees on the deck. I was looking at her wet foot. There was plenty of cum juice between her toes. I hesitated. How had I gotten to this? I’d never done anything like this in my life.

I stretched out my tongue and ran it along her foot. I was tasting myself. Yet it was stronger than I ever remembered. The flavor was bold. It actually tasted better than it smelled. It smelled so good. I hurried into lapping it all up.

“Suck. I want you to get it all.” Her voice was intoxicating.

I did. I got it all.

Later I was nude and laying at Corelle’s feet when the housekeeper came back with drinks. My clothes were sitting on my former chair, neat and folded. I got hot all over again. This was more public. This was a stranger seeing me make an ass of myself. The woman smiled at me and crouched to set a drink down on the deck next to me. It struck me that she had never smiled at me before. Somehow I was more real to her as a slave than I had been as a federal agent. Somehow I was a friend.

This was normal to her.

It hit me. I wasn’t the only one. The housekeeper. I watched her eyes flirt with Corelle. She wiggled her ass as she left. For whose benefit? Corelle. The doctor. I heard again the anger in Suzie Adler’s voice when she thought I was persecuting Corelle. Sexual heat in her voice, warning me off.

I had joined a sisterhood of devotees. Corelle was the ancient and she was our sustenance. I looked up at her. She smiled at me and I felt butterflies teasing in my groin.

Dangerous questions had led me here. I took the drink and sipped it contemplating my first religious ecstasy.