The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When Amy woke up that Saturday, her arm draped over Alice, she found that her girlfriend was already awake and sitting up in bed, enjoying a cigarette.

She smiled at Alice, and removed the cigarette from her girlfriend’s mouth. After taking a big drag herself, she brought her lips to Alice’s, forcing the smoke and then her tongue into her mouth.

“You’re excited this morning,” Alice said, a grin on her face.

“Well,” Amy smiled as she took another drag and returned the cigarette to Alice, “I’ve just got that feeling, you know. It’s going to be a good day—I just know.”

“You know,” Alice said, stubbing out the cigarette and pulling Amy close to her, “I think you’re right.”

She pulled Amy in for a kiss, and that one kiss became many, as it always did. As far as Alice and Amy were concerned, it was the perfect way to start the day. The two girls loved it, wrapping their arms around each other and pitting their tongues and lips against each other in a battle for dominance that both of them were keen to win and entirely happy to lose.

They could have stayed there forever, but eventually hunger pangs struck, and the two girls clambered out of bed.

They got dressed, Alice in a black minidress that hung on her perfectly, and fit tightly in all the right places. It was sleeveless, exposing the goth girl’s tattooed arms and legs. She knew the effect it had on Amy, and she was hoping that it would have a similar effect on someone else later that day. With Sarah in mind, she chose to wear ripped tights and forgo her panties. It didn’t go unnoticed by Amy, who couldn’t keep a smile from her face.

Amy, meanwhile, went for one of her favourite outfits—ripped tights, a short skirt and a see-through top, which would be complemented with a leather jacket and chunky boots. It was almost a default for her—she loved this outfit, and she’d wear it every day if she could. It put a smile on Alice’s face too, for two very different reasons. Sure, Amy looked hot, there was no doubt about that, but it was also how symbolic it was—this was the outfit Alice was wearing when she’d first met Amy, and the old Amy left no doubt about how disgusted she was. To see her wearing it with pride made Alice’s heart flutter a little bit—she doubted that thrill would ever wear off. It was a sign of how far they’d both come.

After getting dressed, Alice lit two cigarettes—one for them both, as was their habit—and they wandered downstairs to make some food.

As Amy dug in, Alice didn’t feel too hungry. She nudged at her breakfast, her mind elsewhere as she thought about the potential for the day.

And then, almost out of nowhere:

“Amy, how are you feeling about the Sarah situation?”

Alice tried to be casual, but Amy had been her girlfriend long enough to detect a devious undercurrent to the question.

“Why are you asking?”

Alice didn’t reply immediately—she seemed faraway, and merely smiled in response.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just, well, I might have a little surprise for you later on.”

Amy was excited, and she flooded Alice with questions, but her girlfriend said nothing. She just encouraged her to wait—it’ll be worth it, she promised.

“Why do I get the feeling that you always know more than I do, Alice?” Amy smiled at her.

Alice smiled back, innocent as she could look dressed all in black with a tattooed and pierced face: “I don’t know what you mean.”

They ate and chatted together—Amy was having a wonderful time speaking with her girlfriend, but she could tell Alice had something on her mind. Not something bad, no, nor something to be worried about, but—something.

Amy was intrigued and excited and, if she was honest, a little aroused—she’d come to learn that, if Alice had something up her sleeve, it was always good.

They were there for just under ten minutes before events kicked off.

There was a knock at the door—Amy looked to Alice, who nodded and smiled. Amy took the cue, stubbing out the remains of her cigarette before going to answer.

It was Sarah, but it was Sarah as she’d never seen her before.

Sarah was normally tightly-groomed, each outfit chosen to perfection—even when she was dressed casually, Amy knew how long she spent perfecting each casual look. But this was, well, casual—she wore a pair of black leggings, some white trainers and a white crop top, drawing all attention to her flat stomach.

Not that Amy wouldn’t have looked anyway—her eyes were drawn to that black crescent moon, an exquisite design that could only have come from one place and one person she knew.

She looked at her friend’s face, her long black hair hanging loosely around it, and saw Sarah was smiling.

“Hey Amy.”

“Sarah,” she said, hesitation in her voice, unsure of how to react after the row when they last spoke.

“Amy, I’m so sorry,” Sarah burst out. “I didn’t mean to judge you, but it was all so sudden and so different, and I couldn’t process the changes. You weren’t the Amy I knew, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

“But now, I think I do. Well, I don’t, but I want to—I met a girl last night, and she showed me how wonderful this could all be, and I don’t want to come down from the high. And I was hoping that, if you aren’t too angry with me, you’ll show me, Amy?”

It was a surprise, but a wonderful one, and it lit up Amy’s face.

“Of course,” she said to her friend, “of course I will.”

She wrapped her arms around Sarah, and gave her a gentle, reassuring hug. Sarah got a scent of Amy—a combination of a tasteful perfume and cigarette smoke on her clothing.

Amy invited Sarah into the house, and led her into the kitchen. Alice was still sitting at the table, a fresh cigarette hanging from her lips—she’d lit up after Amy got the door. She’d been expecting Sarah but intrigued to see if she’d detect any trace of Rainn’s influence left over on her.

She couldn’t fail to see the tattoo, proudly worn—that was an excellent sign.

“Alice, this is my friend Sarah.”

“Oh my goodness,” Alice said, eager to activate the effects of the spray that was now bonded with Sarah’s skin, “I love that tattoo. It’s so hot.”

It had the desired effect—Sarah blushed, and her hand went to her stomach, hovering over that beautiful gothic moon. Memories of last night activated and flew from her mind in moments, and she smiled to herself.

“Thank you, Sarah,” she said, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“And you, Sarah,” Alice smiled. “What brings you to our house today?”

She knew the answer, but Sarah didn’t know that. But the question was enough to get her going.

“I need to understand, and I want to be part of this world. Amy seems so happy, and you seem so happy, and Rainn certainly loves it.”

“Hold on a moment,” Amy butted in, “who’s Rainn?”

Sarah blushed a little at the question: “Just a girl I met last night. You know, Fever Friday.”

“Oh, that kind of girl,” Amy couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Look at you, Sarah—I didn’t think you had that in you. Hooking up with girls—you’re full of surprises.”

“You like this girl, Sarah?” Alice asked.

Sarah nodded.

“And you want to be like her, don’t you?”

She nodded again, red in her cheeks, but her worry was assuaged as Alice broke into a big grin and stood up. She passed her cigarette to Amy, and then wrapped her arms around Sarah, hugging her tight. She detected a similar, yet somehow imperceptibly different scent coming off Alice—different, but no less pleasant.

Alice let her free: “Oh my goodness, this is so exciting, Sarah. You’ve come to just the right place.” She stepped back, and positioned her fingers gently around Sarah’s stomach tattoo. “Let Amy take you out and she’ll help you become the you that you want to be, Sarah.”

The chemical activated in Sarah’s brain again, and she gasped with pleasure: “Yes.”

So it was decided, and Amy couldn’t wait. She pulled on her leather jacket and boots, and asked Alice if she wanted to join them.

“Oh no, I’ll wait here—I’m already looking forward to seeing you on your return, Sarah. I bet you’re going to look hot. I might send you some messages though, Amy, if any ideas come to mind about what you could do...”

Amy shrugged her shoulders, smiling, and she gave Alice a big kiss. It was passionate, long, and Sarah was more than a little aroused watching their unassumed gothic passion for each other—for a fleeting moment, she remembered her night with Rainn, and pictured sharing more kisses with her when she was a new woman.

But that would have to wait for the transformation itself.

Sarah could have watched them for hours, but Amy eventually broke the embrace and took her friend by the hand. Goodbyes exchanged with Alice, the two women left the house.

And Alice sat alone at the kitchen table, smiling to herself.

She’d changed so much after a single night with Rainn. Alice couldn’t wait to see what a day with Amy could do for Sarah.

And how much more she’d change.

Oh, it was going to be a hot day.

It was the third time in less than 24 hours that Sarah had set foot on that street, but it felt like an eternity away to her. Her night with Rainn was so wonderful, like a dream that scarcely seemed real—and yet, as she looked down at her stomach and saw the crescent moon tattoo, she remembered that it was and she smiled.

It was Rainn’s choice of design, and now it was permanently part of her—it was a bond, a symbol of their union inked onto her skin forever. She’d never look at her naked body again without thinking of Rainn, and the night they’d shared together, and that thought made her feel so happy.

The street was as it had been on Sarah’s first visit in the middle of the day—largely empty, the occasional short-cut for a stray shopper but otherwise lacking the activity she had witnessed last night. Sarah was a little disappointed inside—after seeing how lively it was at night, and how full of goths and punks and all forms of alt culture it was as they gathered together in a glorious celebration of their own self-expression, the street felt flat to her now.

She longed to see those closed stores open again, and see that world once more. And, even more so, she wanted to be part of that world—she wanted to walk down that street and feel as if she belonged there. She would belong there.

But for the moment, she was following Amy, and she was delighted to see that their quest today began back at Black Rose.

“If we’re going to start, we need to get you a new wardrobe, Sarah,” Amy smiled, excited at sharing this with her friend. “And fortunately, I happen to work at the best alt clothing store in all of London.”

Sarah looked up at that building, the apprehension she felt yesterday as she visited at lunch a long way away now. She was a different woman then. Now, she looked at that building with anticipation—it was one of the many stops on her journey to discover herself.

Amy opened the door: “You coming, Sarah?”

Sarah nodded—there was nothing she wanted more.

Sarah wandered into Black Rose for the second time in two days, and her two reactions couldn’t have been more different. Yesterday, as she came to this shop in search of Amy and had her first encounter with Alice, she had no real impression—positive or negative—other than noticing how black all of the clothing seemed to be. Outside of the shop, she’d looked at the displays in the window and thought that those clothes simply weren’t for her—they just weren’t her style.

Oh, how much had changed in not even 24 hours—did Sarah even remember her doubts, her frame of mind before she’d encountered Alice and Rainn?

At the moment, it didn’t appear so, and it didn’t matter to her. This morning, Sarah was lost in the clothes, looking around at all the items on display and picturing herself wearing them. She cast her eyes over the jewellry and the accessories, and looked at all the shoes. Boots and heels, nothing like anything she currently had in her collection, but which she hoped to add very soon.

And she found that, the more she looked, the more any unconscious niggling doubts at the back of her mind kept fading away. The more she looked, the more she wanted to belong in this world—and the more she felt she could.

She breathed in heavily, an unknowing reaction searching for any remnants of the delicious incredible spray. Did she smell it in the air, or did she merely hope that she had? At this moment, it hardly mattered—all that counted was this wonderful feeling inside her.

Some time later—it could have been seconds, it could have been forever—an instinct in her mind told her to go to the fitting area. And so her legs carried her there—she didn’t know what would happen, but she knew it would be good.

She stood in the fitting area where she had been less than a day before and, without any prompting, she began removing her clothes. Amy was sitting, waiting for her. Sarah kicked off her trainers and her socks, and rolled off her leggings. As she removed the crop top, Amy couldn’t help herself:

“Wow, Sarah, you look hot. I mean, I always knew you were hot, but with that tattoo and that underwear and your incredible body—just, wow.”

Sarah smiled. She had wanted to wear the matching underwear Alice had given her yesterday, but she thought the panties needed a change after a night soaking in her pussy juice, filled time and time again as Sarah masturbated to thoughts of Rainn. She had a lace pair in her drawer, and they seemed to work well with the bra—well, Amy certainly thought so, and that made her smile again.

“If you’ve got your own underwear, I guess I don’t need to give you any, so we can get you suited up in a hot outfit straight away. I’ve got a few selections for you, Sarah—tell me what you like. And,” she smiled, “let me know if you want any for your new wardrobe too.”

Her new wardrobe—the very idea made Sarah quiver with excitement, a wave of sexual joy running through her. She was doing it—she was really doing it, and she loved it. She looked at the pile of clothes on the floor—somehow, that fashionable everyday wear didn’t seem as appealing at all any more.

Amy disappeared behind the curtain for a moment, and reappeared with a dress draped over her arm: “How about this?”

She held it up for Sarah—it was black, thin and sleek with long lace sleeves reaching almost down to her ankles. Immediately, she wanted to say ‘yes’, and Amy could see that in her eyes, but she didn’t want the fun to be over so soon.

“Hold that thought, Sarah—you’ve got a lot of options before you have to make up your mind.”

She vanished again, and came back a moment later with a new dress. This one was almost Wednesday Addams-like, she thought—simple and black with a white collar detail. Again, she wanted to have it, but another little voice inside her was speaking, telling her to hold her tongue and let Amy show her more and more of these sexy outfits. Each time she saw one, she visualised herself putting it on, and she felt increasingly turned on—she knew, whatever she decided, she’d be making more visits to Black Rose with Amy.

And so the cycle continued. Amy appeared with a new outfit suggestion, Sarah was so very tantalised but she wanted—no, needed—to see one more, and then another one after that. Alice told Amy this was how Sarah would react, and her girlfriend was right. But she didn’t mind—she loved assembling these outfits, thinking about how they would look on her best friend. She suspected that, whatever Sarah chose to wear today, she’d likely be revisiting many of these styles in the future.

After six or seven outfits, Sarah hadn’t made up her mind. Amy had a black crop hoodie and a matched pleated skirt with cross decoration on the bottom in her hands—she was going to put them back, but she needed to ask something first

“Hey, Sarah, you mind if I smoke? I really need a cigarette, but I don’t want to go outside and stop having fun picking an outfit with you.”

A look of sadness flashed over Sarah’s face, and it didn’t take a moment for her to say what Amy knew she would say. In fact, she was counting on it—Alice had encouraged her to raise the issue in a message, and she’d predicted exactly what would happen.

“Why don’t you smoke in here, Amy?”

“But,” she looked a little concerned, “you don’t smoke, Sarah, and I don’t want to upset you.”

“It’s fine,” Sarah offered a reassuring smile, “it won’t upset me at all.”

Amy smiled, and she hugged Sarah. Sarah melted into the hug a little—she was starting to like the feeling of a goth girl’s arms around her.

She let Sarah go, and then she reached into her leather jacket pocket, removing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She took a cigarette from the carton, holding it between her lips as she replaced the pack. And then she flicked the lighter to life, holding the flame to the end of the cigarette and breathing in to ignite it. Sarah watched as the end glowed red, as Amy inhaled and then as she let out a stream of smoke.

She made it look so easy and, from the blissful look on her face, so pleasurable.

Amy was aware that Sarah was watching and, after that first much-needed drag, she looked to her friend.

“I’m so rude, Sarah,” she said, the cigarette still hanging from her lips, “I never offered to share. Would you like one?”

Sarah smiled back.

“Thanks, Amy, but you know that I don’t.”

Amy smiled and shrugged her shoulders, and she took another drag.

“Hey, neither did I,” she said, smoking escaping from her mouth as she talked, “and you know that. But you’re changing your look now, Sarah, so why not give it a go? You may love it like I loved it when Alice showed me how to smoke and, if you don’t, one’s not going to kill you. But I think you’ll love it—why be a hot goth dyke when you can be a smoking hot goth dyke?”

Despite herself, Sarah laughed—there was something so earnest in how Amy sold it to her.

“Oh, go on then,” she smiled, “but you’re going to have to show me how.”

“It’s a deal,” she said, excited at the prospect.

Amy took the cigarette carton from her pocket once again, flicked the lid open and offered the pack to Sarah. Sarah, slowly, tentatively, reached out and removed a cigarette.

This was another new experience, and her mind wanted to rebel a little bit at the prospect of actually touching a cigarette—Amy could see the hesitation in her friend’s eyes, and she did as she was told. Alice had given her one simple instruction—if Amy seemed unsure or uncertain about any of these changes, simply place your hand on her stomach tattoo.

Amy did just that, and she felt Sarah’s demeanour melt in response.

Sarah took the cigarette between her fingers, and held it, looking at it in her hand. It somehow felt like a foreign object, and yet as if it belonged there too. And then she slowly raised it to her mouth, and placed it behind her lips.

Amy smiled, and took her lighter from her pocket.

She ignited the flame, and brought it to the end of Sarah’s cigarette. It lit—Sarah breathed in, almost without thinking, and then panicked as the tip began to glow red. She took the cigarette from her mouth, and blew all the smoke from her mouth. She pulled a face, and looked at Amy.

“Urgh, I can taste it in my mouth, Amy—it’s horrible. How do you enjoy this stuff?”

Amy laughed.

“You’re being a bit too eager with it, Sarah. Here, breathe in again, and hold the smoke in your mouth—get a bit more used to it.”

Sarah was doubtful but the spray in her stomach tattoo told her to listen anyway—she brought the cigarette to her mouth again, and filled her cheeks with smoke. She blew it out again, and still felt the acrid taste in her mouth—a little less unpleasant than the first time, perhaps, but still unpleasant all the same.

“And now, Sarah,” Amy smiled, “it gets fun. Breathe in the smoke again, but this time, inhale it as if it were air—let it move down your throat into your lungs, Sarah.”

She nodded, and brought the cigarette to her lips once more, and did as Amy advised. She tried to breathe in the smoke as if she was breathing normally, and she reacted as expected—she started coughing and gagging. Her throat felt as if it were on fire, and her eyes started to water.

Yet, as she coughed and then on a final exhale, she saw the smoke coming from her body and she liked it. It was strange, looking at herself in the mirror, a cigarette in hand and smoke on her lips, but she could grow used to it.

“Do it again, Sarah,” Amy said. “See if you can hold the smoke in without coughing.”

Sarah looked at the cigarette in her hand—there wasn’t much left, so she took another drag and tried to enjoy it. And she found, despite herself, that she was able to suppress that cough and hold the smoke in a little longer. Another exhale, another drag—the more she did, the easier it became.

And the more pleasurable it was.

Amy stepped back from her friend as she enjoyed the cigarette.

“Looking at you just now, Sarah, I’m seeing you in a new light, and it’s put me in mind of the perfect outfit for you.” She offered Sarah an ashtray—Sarah, suddenly conscious of the nearly-finished cigarette in her mouth, took one last drag before stubbing it out. “Wait here a moment, and I’ll be right back.”

Amy vanished into the shop—Sarah stood, looking at herself in the mirror, her mind processing the new flavour in her mouth after she expelled the smoke. It was strange—not unpleasant, she thought, but unusual. Did she like it? She didn’t know, but Alice and Amy saw something in it, and that had to count for something.

Her friend reappeared a moment later, a few items over her arm and a pair of shoes and accessories in her hand. She had a smile on her face, and she seemed giddy with excitement as she passed them to Sarah.

“I can’t wait,” Amy said, excitement in her voice, “you’re going to look so good.”

That was all Sarah needed to hear—she trusted Amy’s judgement, and she wanted to change.

She put on the clothes, and equipped all the accessories, and then she looked at herself in the mirror.

She was a new person. She wore split jeans—one leg was all black, and the other was red and black stripes. At their end, she wore black creepers with a thick sole. On her top, a T-shirt, all black save a print of two skeletal hands holding her breasts. It was cheeky and naughty, and she loved it. The jewelry was minimal at the moment—a pentagram necklace and her simple earrings replaced with ones with a spike effect—but she had no doubt that this was the least of the decoration Amy had planned for her.

“Just one thing to complete the look, Sarah,” Amy said as she wrapped one arm around her friend’s torso. The other brought a cigarette up to Sarah’s mouth, holding it there between two fingers so Sarah could take a small drag. “It’s always good to have a smoke on the go—you look so much hotter.”

She exhaled the smoke, and knew that Amy was right. Sarah didn’t just want to be an alt girl—she wanted to be a smoking alt girl.

It looked hot on Amy and Alice, and it looked hot on her.

“Does Rainn smoke?”

“She loves a girl who does.”

That was all Sarah needed to hear to make up her mind on smoking—she took the cigarette from Amy’s hand, and inhaled deeply of her own volition. If Rainn loved this, then she would never be without a cigarette on her person ever again. She would master smoking, and she’d look as sexy as Alice and Amy did with a cigarette in their mouth.

The smoke escaped from Sarah’s mouth as she spoke.

“How much do I owe you for all of this stuff, Amy?”

“Nothing,” she smiled, “it’s all a gift from a friend to help you discover yourself like I did. I can’t promise that if you ever want to come back and buy some new outfits, like I’m hoping you will?”

“Oh, definitely—I think I’ve found a new look!”

Amy laughed in pleasure, and she stood with Sarah as her friend finished her second-ever cigarette. Sarah was taking to it nicely, and Amy had no doubt she’d be a natural in no time.

She could have happily stayed there with her friend all day, talking and smoking, but she knew the best was yet to come. This was only part one of Sarah’s day of transformation, and there were many more stops to go, so after Sarah had finished her smoke, Amy led her back to the street.

The next destination was next door to the shop next door—a hair salon. There were a few skulls and gothic patterns creeping onto the exterior decoration from Black Rose but, otherwise, absolutely nothing gothic about this place, not at all. That didn’t matter at all—it would still do the job perfectly anyway.

Amy visited quite a lot—her hair was naturally blonde, but after Alice had convinced her to try dyeing it black, she never wanted her original colour to show again. And so, whenever she feared some blonde may be threatening to poke through, she booked an appointment after work and had the black gently and carefully reapplied.

On her many visits, she’d made friends with a number of the girls, one of whom—Aisling, an Irish redhead in her mid-twenties—was in today.

“Amy,” she said, smile on her face and a lilt in her voice, “what brings you here today?”

“I was hoping you could fit my friend Sarah in, Aisling?”

“Sure—as you see, we’re hardly rammed. And anything for my favourite customer too, of course. Pop in the chair, my love,” she said, indicating an empty seat in the back of the shop, “and I’ll be right with you.”

Amy pointed the way, and Sarah took her seat. It was a comfortable chair, but Sarah’s mind was elsewhere, her body tingling with the thrill of her first cigarettes and the excitement of the transformation.

Aisling returned, having put her apron on over her light summer dress.

“Right, you sitting comfortable there, Sarah?” She had a friendly inflection, a way of putting people at ease. “What can I do you for?”

Sarah already had long beautiful, naturally black hair (Amy was always a little jealous of it, truth be told), but Amy had an idea about a little tweak to make it so much sexier, especially now she was changing her look.

“I don’t know if much needs doing, Aisling, but how about a couple of green highlights?”

“Ooh, good shout,” she said, visualising it in her mind, “you all good with that, Sarah?”

“Yes,” she said, her mind already on fire imagining it. Amy noticed that Sarah’s hand drifted to her stomach and stayed there, at least until Aisling draped a black hairdressers cape over her and obscured the view.

“Right,” Aisling said as she wheeled over a trolley full of bottled colours and foil, and started putting her plastic gloves on, “this may take a wee while, but you’re going to look brilliant when it’s done, Sarah.”

“I think I can help with that,” Amy said, removing a small spray bottle from her pocket that Alice had told her to use on Sarah. She placed it close to Sarah’s nose, and sprayed it gently.

Sarah’s eyes went well, and a grin crept across her face.

“Sleep now, Sarah, and feel how much this transformation makes you happy.”

Sarah’s eyes closed, but she kept her body upright and that smile on her face.

Aisling watched on, intrigued.

“Trippy stuff, Sarah,” she said.

“But it’s good stuff, Aisling.” A devious thought crossed her mind. “Let me know if you want to try it one day—I’d be glad to share.”

The Irish girl laughed: “You and your ideas, Amy. Right now, I think I’ll focus on sorting your friend’s hair.”

Amy didn’t push it—her focus was Sarah, and so she sat there with her unconscious friend and made small-talk with Aisling as she worked on her friend’s hair. But that thought still lingered on the recesses of her mind, as it has many things before—she reckoned that Aisling would make an amazing goth herself if she ever decided to give it a go.

Maybe one day.

Aisling worked her magic on Sarah, and the sleeping girl didn’t even feel the time pass. It was a number of hours later when she was nudged back to reality, the scent of the spray hitting her nose and a combination of Amy and Aisling’s voice waking her up.

“You’re all done there, my dear,” said the hairdresser.

“Wake up, Sarah,” said Amy, “and take a look at yourself. You’re going to love it.”

Sarah drifted slowly back to the consciousness, her eyes fluttering open steadily in the light. She felt so relaxed, so at ease in the chair, and it took all of her effort to force herself upright. It was made so much easier, however, by the sight of Amy hovering over her, excitement in her eyes. If her friend was this pleased, it had to be good.

Sarah sat up, and saw that it was.

She knew to expect the green highlights, but she was surprised at just how sexy they looked. It had the appearance of her naturally black hair changing to a dark green halfway down, and she thought it made her look cheeky, a little bit naughty.

She expected that the transformation would just be apparent on the tips of her long hair, but the long hair was nowhere to be seen. Aisling had cut it severely, leaving Sarah with a bob—the hairdresser had obviously taken her time to tussle her hair, because her naturally straight locks had somehow been formed into a messy bob. A messy, black and green bob.

It was never a style that had ever appealed to Sarah before, but now, somehow, it felt completely right. She burst into a big grin.

“It’s wonderful, Aisling—absolutely wonderful!”

Aisling held a mirror in her hands, allowing Sarah to see the back of her head too.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” she smiled. “Just make sure to look after it, and keep coming back here for a touch up every now and again.”

“I will,” she actually laughed with pleasure, “I will, Aisling.”

“Right,” Aisling removed the cape, “now, get going with you—I’ve got an appointment to keep.”

“How much do I owe you?” Sarah asked.

In response, Aisling waved her hand.

“Amy’s got you all sorted out already, my dear.”

Was there a hint of a blush on Aisling’s face, Sarah wondered briefly. It didn’t matter—she was distracted by her friend.

“You can repay me, Sarah,” Amy said, tenderly taking her friend by the hand, “by coming with me. There’s one last place we need to go, and I want to get going—you look great, but you’re so close to looking fucking great, and I can’t wait for it.”

Something about Amy’s enthusiasm got her going again—there was a little tingle between her legs as she stood up, refreshed and ready.

“Be seeing you, girls,” Aisling wished them the best.

When they were finished with the hairdressers, they had that one last stop on the agenda, and both Amy and Sarah knew exactly what it would be without speaking—a return to Alt Ink.

Another visit to Luna for Sarah, and a few more modifications.

Amy had a few more ideas on how to reshape Sarah, and she was looking forward to seeing them.

It was a short walk back to Amy’s house, but a beautiful one. The weather was nice, and all the transformations gave Sarah a new lease of life—they marked her out, and she felt like she was free from a kind of inner, self-imposed prison that she hadn’t even known she was in. This was who she was, and she loved it. She never wanted to go back—she never wanted to be anything else.

Amy had practically broken out into a run the closer they got to the house—she was excited at the new Sarah, and excited for Alice to see the changes. She knew that her girlfriend would love it just as much as she did—and so, when they made it back, Amy didn’t bother kicking off her boots or jacket or even lighting a welcome cigarette. She was too focused on getting Sarah upstairs, to the bedroom.

She knew her girlfriend well enough to know that’s where she’d be waiting.

“Oh my goodness, look at you, Sarah,” Alice said, genuine excitement in her voice when the two girls entered the bedroom and she got her first sight of the new Sarah.

When they left the house that morning, Sarah was a hot girl with a sexy tattoo—just like so many other hot girls in London. But now, she was the kind of hot girl that Alice loved—alt clothing, a new arm tattoo (a small pentagram—Alice detected Luna’s handiwork) and the hint of cigarette smoke on her person. And that last decoration—a brand new septum piercing. Alice suspected that Amy would nudge Sarah to get another tattoo, but that piercing must have been Amy’s idea—she certainly loved Alice’s. And, if it was, Amy had chosen very well.

Alice was perched on the bottom of the bed, dressed in the same black dress from earlier but with her ripped tights gone. Her legs were open, and her pussy was visible if you were looking.

Sarah found herself looking, oh yes, and now it was only with anticipation.

Amy walked over and gave her girlfriend a long kiss, and Sarah felt a little twinge of jealousy that it wasn’t her. That was a situation Alice was more than happy to rectify—she broke away from Amy, and reached out, pulling Sarah into an embrace.

Sarah loved the taste of Alice’s lips, and her tongue as it forced its way into her mouth. She was happy to let Alice take over—she surrendered into the kiss, vague memories of their first encounter at Black Rose coming to mind as she reciprocated.

After a kiss that lasted an eternity, yet no time at all, Alice broke away from her.

“Don’t leave Amy out,” she said, a casual instruction that was all Sarah needed.

As Alice released her, Sarah looked into the eyes of her gothic best friend, and realised just how beautiful she was. She’d always known that Sarah was hot, but there was something about her now that was just—well, beautiful. There was no other word.

There was a time when they were colleagues, near identikit girls in businesswear flirting with the men at the office and dreaming of a quick casual fuck on a Friday night. But that time felt so long ago now—all that mattered was sharing this moment with her. Their faces were close together, and Sarah leaned in, gently kissing Amy.

It was different from Alice—there was no dominance here. Amy and Sarah were gentle, their lips meeting with sparks of electricity that belied their softness, the lightness with which these two old friends shared their kisses. These kisses felt like Amy welcoming Sarah into her world, and Sarah was thanking her in kind for the privilege.

Alice cleared her throat, bringing Amy and Sarah back into the room. Ordinarily, she’d have been happy to leave them and watch as these two beautiful women embraced, but she wanted to train Sarah a little bit and it took priority.

“I don’t want you to tire yourself out before the main course, Sarah,” she smiled. “This will complete your transformation into a goth dyke, and I’m looking forward to it.”

Alice nodded slightly, gesturing her head towards her glistening pussy with her head. Sarah understood—she moved in front of Alice, and she dropped to her knees. She looked up at Alice.

“Is this what you want, Sarah? Once you take a taste, you’ll never go back—and you’ll never want to. This will be your new life, your new being, and it will be incredible. Is this what you want?”

“I do,” Sarah said, no doubt in her mind any more, “I want this, Alice.”

“Of course, that’s what Rainn would want too, you know—she’ll be so happy when you’re eating her out. You’re going to be a perfect girlfriend, Sarah—you’re going to be Rainn’s perfect girlfriend. Are you ready?”

Sarah nodded, but kept her eyes on Alice’s pussy. Alice could make out those feelings in Sarah’s eyes—she’d seen them so many times before. Anticipation, and excitement, and hunger—hunger for the sexual awakening that was about to come.

“Good, good,” Alice said. She placed her hand on the top of Sarah’s head, and smiled as Amy sprayed a little of the spray at her friend—Alice didn’t think Sarah would have changed her mind now, but she wanted her to feel submissive and aroused as she ate her first pussy. Those feelings would stay with her forever, making her the perfect pussy-eater—Rainn would be pleased.

“It’s your first time, Sarah—be slow, enjoy it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she said.

“Stick out your tongue and lick,” Alice said, encouraging Sarah, “and the rest will come to you. It’ll be natural, like you were always meant to eat pussy. Because you know what—you were.”

Tentatively, she extended her tongue and leant forward, going until she made contact with Alice’s pussy. The goth girl let out a small moan of excitement in anticipation of what was to come, and that noise made Sarah’s heart flutter. She needed that—she needed to hear more of that.

Instinctively, as if she had done this a hundred times before, she started licking. These licks were slow, careful to begin with, but Sarah’s doubts soon faded away as she started to enjoy the taste of Alice’s pussy.

These licks became attempts to probe Alice’s pussy, Sarah trying to get deeper with her tongue, exploring the goth girl. Her tongue was deep, and Sarah’s face was deadly close—there was no room to breathe, meaning her entire focus was on licking for as long as she could.

As she finally pulled back, gasping for air, her nose brushed against Alice’s clit. The goth girl moaned in pleasure, and Sarah knew what she had to do.

Sarah leaned back in, and took the nub in her mouth, rolling it around and then giving it a gentle, playful nibble. It wasn’t as satisfying as licking Alice’s pussy, but it was worth it for the reaction.

“Oh my goodness,” Alice moaned, “fuck me!”

Alice was really turned on, the sight and feeling of her pussy being eaten and her clit being stimulated by the newly-transformed Sarah more than enough to gloss over her sloppy technique. It would come in time, this she knew, but she wanted to cum first.

She was in the mood now—she groaned in pleasure as Sarah gave her clit another gentle nibble.

“Do you love it, Sarah?” Alice shouted in the middle of her gasps.

“Yes, yes,” Sarah responded, short sharp words intended to minimise the time her mouth spent away from Alice’s pussy. She realised she could grunt instead, heavy sexual grunts that only pushed Alice towards the edge a little more. She was ready to cum, and she knew just what would do it—the same thing she did to Amy the first time her girlfriend ate her out.

“You love it, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” she grunted.

“You love it because you’re a little goth dyke, aren’t you?”

“Uhhhh,” she groaned, “ohhhh yeah.”

“Say it,” Alice demanded, “tell me what you are.”

“I’m a goth dyke,” Sarah said, furiously lapping Alice’s pussy between words, “I’m a goth whore and I love eating pussy. I want to eat pussy—I need it. I want to get on my knees in front of every girl I can find and eat them out. Please, Alice, let me eat your pussy.”

That begging was all Alice needed. Alice held Sarah’s face to her pussy, screaming as she came, juices furiously erupting and coating Sarah. Sarah lapped her tongue desperately, trying to consume as much of that delicious nectar as possible. Alice’s cum was incredible—sickly-sweet, delicious, and Sarah wanted it all.

If this was the end result of eating pussy, she knew, she’d have to keep eating as much pussy as possible.

She was so aroused, turned on by this act of sexual dominance, that she came herself—she could feel her own juices soaking her black panties and her jeans. Being forced to eat pussy was clearly a major turn-on—she hoped Rainn would take advantage.

Alice and Sarah both remained silent and still—Alice on the bed, Sarah kneeling on the floor—basking in that amazing, post-orgasm feeling. They were panting, shuddering and glowing.

Normally, Alice would have reinforced her dominance by demanding Sarah come back for more, but she had a different priority at the moment. When she could finally bring herself to speak, she addressed the kneeling goth girl:

“What did you think, Sarah?”

“It was… heavenly,” she said, looking up at Alice with the goth girl’s cum still dripping down her face.

Alice smirked—perfect.

“Well, you’re going to get a lot of practice before you see Rainn again, I promise you—you’re going to eat her out like no girl ever has before. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sarah—to eat pussy every day, and make goth girls happy?”

“Fuck yeah,” she said, “I want it—I need it.”

“Because you’re a goth dyke, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, almost shouting the word out as if to reaffirm her status to the world. “Yes, I’m a goth dyke, and I want to eat out beautiful goth girls and make them cum and drink their juices, and then I’ll do it again, and again, and again. I was born for this—I was made to be a goth whore.”

Music to my ears, Alice thought.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she asked, “why aren’t you eating out that beautiful goth girl?”

She turned around—Amy had raised her skirt, revealing her own pussy, dripping with juices—and she didn’t need to be told twice. She crawled, almost frantic to get over there and taste her best friend.

“And if you do a good job, Sarah, I might even let you come back for seconds.”

With the combination of that promise and Amy’s screams of pleasure as her tongue made first contact, Sarah got to work.

It was a Fever Friday night again—to Sarah, it seemed appropriate that she meet Rainn there once again, now that she’d embraced this new lifestyle. It had been a long few days, keeping away from Rainn as Amy and Alice showed her the light and helped her change, helping her learn to be the girl she knew Rainn wanted her to be, but she knew it would be worth it.

When Sarah entered the nightclub, it was as if she’d been away for years. Her life had changed so much in that past week—she’d become a new person, and she wanted to get back here to see Rainn.

When her eyes fell on the goth girl, she immediately melted—it had been well worth the agonising wait.

Rainn’s long black hair fell down messily onto a black oversize T-shirt, boasting the logo of a band that Sarah didn’t recognise. As she moved on the dancefloor, Sarah could just about make out the hints of a black skirt underneath. On her legs, laddered tights and some platform ankle boots. Her lipstick, as last week, was black, and her septum piercing seemed to shine in the strobe lights of the club.

Last week, Sarah had come in an improvised black outfit, trainers and leggings, that didn’t truly convey how she was feeling inside. Not so now—now, she knew who she was.

Under the guidance of Alice and Amy, Sarah had returned to Black Rose many a time in the week and completely reshaped her wardrobe. Her old outfits, office wear and designer labels, were gone, replaced with alt wear provided by her two friends.

She wore one such outfit tonight. She too had opted for a loose-fitting T-shirt, black and bearing a white artistic representation of some trees against a crescent moon—she hoped Rainn would appreciate it. She wore fishnet tights and skinny black acid-wash jeans over them, while her feet were adorned with black combat boots. She completed the look with a leather jacket—too hot, perhaps, for a night in Fever, but that’s not really why she was here. She’d done nothing with her hair, nor altered her septum piercing—the only change facially were the small ear stretching tapers in each ear, barely visible behind her black and green bob.

She got a few looks from the usual punters but, tonight, she didn’t care about any of them—hell, she didn’t even acknowledge them. Sarah wasn’t scouting the field, looking for a cheap fuck to spend the night with and never see again. She was here for one girl and one girl only, and she made her way towards her.

Rainn saw her, and the corners of her lips upturned into that sexy smirk, the one that had caught Sarah’s eye here last week.

“Look at you, lover,” she said, “you look fucking hot.”

“Do you like it, Rainn?” Sarah smiled, pleased it had had exactly the effect she wanted.

“Fuck me,” she said, in shock at the radical change in the girl in front of her.

Sarah smirked in response: “I intend to.”

Rainn moved in close, her face next to Sarah’s, and she felt the other girl’s warmth on her. Their lips met, a slow and gentle kiss.

“Have you been smoking?” Rainn asked, detecting that telltale scent lingering in Sarah’s mouth.

She smirked coyly in response: “I heard you like a smoking girl, Rainn.”

Rainn smirked back, her trademark smirk—it was as sexy as the first time Sarah had seen it, the first time she’d fallen for this enigmatic goth girl.

Nothing needed to be said—the long look between said everything. Both of their eyes burned, intensity and the promise of things to come.

And then they heard the music play. Rainn took Sarah’s hands, and pulled her onto the dancefloor. Sarah couldn’t help but move—sure, the music ran through her body, but so did the wave of lust that was building in her. She wanted to be with Rainn, moving their bodies together—she was happy to be led wherever Rainn wanted her to go.

After a dance together, punctuated by several long passionate kisses on the dancefloor, Rainn leaned in and whispered into Sarah’s ear:

“You wanna go to the bathroom, lover? I think we’ve got some unfinished business from last week.”

Sarah smirked back: “Fuck yeah!”

Last Friday, Rainn pulled Sarah to the toilet for some private time together—this time, Sarah had her hands all over the goth girl, voracious in her sexual appetite.

It was a mirror image of last week as the two women made their way into the toilet, their bodies writhing together as their tongues battled for dominance. Sarah held Rainn by the ass, her hands massaging her lover and eliciting groans of delight.

Rainn, not to be outdone, held Sarah’s face with one hand as she reached under Sarah’s top with the other, unhooking her bra and smirking as she heard Sarah’s pleasure at her breasts exploding free.

They kissed, as they did last week, and then Rainn led Sarah over to the toilet. Rainn sat down, hitching up her oversize shirt and skirt, revealing her glistening pussy through her tights. Sarah knew what to do—she got on her knees in front of the goth girl, and looked forward into her lover’s pussy.

Last week, she didn’t feel ready—now, she’d had a lot of training.

Rainn saw the hunger in Sarah’s eyes, and she smirked. She ripped open her tights, exposing her bare pussy, and then she looked to Sarah.

“Go on then, lover—dig in.”

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She stuck her tongue out and started licking, trying to sate that desperate need inside her, that tension that had been simmering away since she first met Rainn one week ago.

She licked, slowly, quickly, alternating her speed, and she teased Rainn’s clit with her mouth. The moans were proof it was working, but Alice and Amy had taught her some more tricks too.

She slid two fingers into Rainn, and was rewarded with a groan of surprise and pleasure and a cry of ‘yes’. She arched them upwards until she found the girl’s g-spot—a sharp intake of breath said she was there.

Sarah started tapping it, the combination of her fingers and her tongue bringing Rainn to the edge.

The goth girl grabbed Sarah’s head with her two hands, and screamed as she came. And, just for good measure, she started grinding her pussy all over Sarah’s face at the same time, marking Sarah as hers. Rainn exploded, and Sarah did all she could to lap up all the cum she could, enjoying that wonderful taste until Rainn pushed her away.

She looked her in the eyes, and she smirked.

“Fuck it, lover,” Rainn said, “you’re coming back to mine now—I want to make you mine.”

Sarah’s body quivered in excitement—she wanted to be Rainn’s.

The goth girl lived a few minutes away from Fever—the walk was somehow the longest and shortest of Sarah’s life at the same time. It took all of her self-control not to throw herself at Rainn every step they took.

Rainn unlocked her door, and the two women practically fell into her hall, lost as they were in their desires. They kicked their boots off, and Rainn somehow removed Sarah’s leather jacket despite pinning her against the wall with her arms and her lips.

“Upstairs,” Rainn said, smirking and excited.

Rainn led the way to her bedroom, where she shoved Sarah onto her bed. Sarah didn’t put up a fight as Rainn climbed on top of her—no, she lay there, waiting for the goth girl to continue her kisses. And they came, their lips meeting, Sarah’s tongue vainly battling Rainn’s for dominance before she caved, welcoming Rainn into her mouth.

Eventually, Rainn climbed off of Sarah, breaking the embrace. She could have continued for hours, but she had something else planned.

She smirked at Sarah, who still lay on her back, in bliss at sharing this bed with her lover.

“What are you waiting for, Sarah?” Rainn demanded, flirtatious even in her instructions. “Take your clothes off.”

Sarah was turned on, and it took all of her might not to tear her clothes off like an animal. That’s all she was at the moment—an animal, ruled only by her sexual desires and her burning need for Rainn to take control and fuck her. She threw her T-shirt to one side of the room, and sat on the ground as she frantically peeled the skinny jeans and fishnets from her legs. She stood up in her black lace bra and matching panties and entertained, just for a moment, the idea of keeping them on—she knew, however, that Rainn wanted her fully naked and she took them both off too.

She looked to Rainn, who wasn’t there. She hadn’t even noticed that Rainn had stepped out of the room until she returned, standing over the naked Sarah.

Rainn just stood there, her arms folded and her naked body on display. It was the first time Sarah had seen all of Rainn, and she licked her lips in sheer wonder—Rainn was beautiful, her porcelain skin and long black hair just perfect in Sarah’s eyes. She was like a gothic goddess, ready to assert her sexual dominance over Sarah.

And how was she going to do that? Sarah’s eyes couldn’t choose where to focus—Rainn’s body, or the large black strap-on fastened around her waist. Sarah guessed it must have been at least ten inches. Maybe more—she certainly hoped it was more.

Rainn saw Sarah’s eyes open wide in anticipation, and she smirked in response.

“On your knees, lover. Pleasure my cock, and then I’ll use my cock to pleasure you.”

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. As Rainn moved the strap-on near to her lips, Sarah started attacking it, enveloping it with her mouth almost in desperation. She got hard at work, spitting and sucking and jacking it and getting it ready for whenever Rainn decided to use it on her pussy and give her a good, long fucking.

Almost out of habit, an unconscious reaction from her Friday nights at Fever and the men she picked up, she attempted to deepthroat the cock. It was big, so big, and her eyes went wide as she gagged. Those gagging noises were like music to Rainn’s ears, a sound that Sarah was desperate to submit to her and do whatever she asked for a bit of pleasure.

Rainn let her go for a couple of minutes—in part because the wait reinforced Rainn’s control of the situation and her girlfriend, and in part because the sight of seeing Sarah’s head bobbing and gagging on the cock was turning her on a little too much to want to stop it.

But eventually she did, and she did knowing that the best was yet to come.

Rainn placed her hands on the back of Sarah’s head as she deepthroated the cock, keeping it lodged in her mouth. Sarah wanted to gag, trying to stifle it, and she looked up at Rainn.

“Alright, lover, you’ve done good, so I’m going to reward you. On the bed, on your back, legs open wide—you got it?”

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. The moment Rainn released her and emptied her throat, she didn’t even take time to breathe—she was already clambering onto Rainn’s bed, eager to be fucked by the beautiful goth girl.

Rainn positioned the head of the strap-on at Sarah’s dripping entrance, and she thrust forward. Sarah screamed in pleasure, and Rainn smirked in delight.

She moaned at Rainn’s short, gentle thrusts forward, her moans only growing louder as Rainn slowly worked her way in, deeper and deeper until she reached a point further than Sarah had ever been penetrated before. She felt a sharp intake of breath from Sarah—she was there.

Rainn started thrusting harder, picking up the pace, and Sarah was loving it. She was moaning, desperate moans, and she started pushing back with all her might. Her body had taken over—she needed to cum, and nothing else mattered.

As she forced her body at Rainn, the stiff harness began to batter the goth girl’s clit, turning her on more and more. The two women were lost in the desperate need to make themselves cum, and they thrust their bodies together, every blow and movement designed to push them ever closer to the edge.

It was Rainn who got there first, the sight of Sarah submitting to her and the stimulation to her clit proving too much for her.

“Cum for me, lover—cum for me!” Rainn screamed as she came for the second time that night.

And Sarah did as commanded, shrieking as she had the hardest orgasm of her life. It shook her entire body, that feeling of bliss far greater than any she’d ever experienced before. She knew now that only Rainn could do this for her—only Rainn could make her feel this way.

And she’d make her feel this way again and again—Sarah had no time to bask in that feeling before Rainn started thrusting again, pushing Sarah to another orgasm. And another. And another.

Sarah didn’t know how many times she’d cum before Rainn finally stopped, withdrawing her strap-on with a satisfying squelch, a sign of just how turned on she’d been. Without Rainn inside her, Sarah felt strangely empty—she needed Rainn to be inside her, or for her to be inside Rainn.

Fortunately, she had somewhere else to stick that strap-on cock.

Rainn stood over Sarah, and held her hand on that stomach tattoo before stepping back.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, lover,” she smirked. “Come on, on your knees, clear it up.”

Despite Sarah thinking that all her energy had gone through the countless orgasms, she found that Rainn’s words and that gesture made her eager to serve. She scrambled from the bed onto the floor, and took the strap-on in her mouth without hesitation. She moaned in pleasure as she tasted her own juices, and closed her eyes to focus on the sensation, her head bobbing up and down in movements of deep satisfaction. She groaned in pleasure—this was bliss.

Rainn smirked at her, taking her eyes off Sarah for just a moment to look at the damage wreaked on her bed.

Sarah had cum all over Rainn’s bedsheets many times, leaving them a dripping soaking mess.

Oh well, Rainn smirked.

She didn’t think they’d be doing much sleeping that night anyway.

She was sure of that.

Alice didn’t think of herself as a bad person—no, she was a saint of sorts, helping poor women understand the appeal of the goth lifestyle and embracing it. It always made them happier—it released a kind of suppressed passion, enabling women to go about their days doing whatever they wanted, not giving two fucks about what society thought of them or how it said they should live their lives.

Look at Amy, she thought. She’d have been doomed to a nine-to-five job for the best part of her life, wasting away in a career that didn’t make her happy. She’d spend her days in an office until she was 65, and then she’d be old and alone, her best days gone like that—urgh, Alice shuddered at the thought.

She knew that, when she came to London, Amy would never have imagined the changes she’d been through, nor her decision to take over a place like Black Rose, but now she couldn’t imagine anything else.

But now, she’d discovered that this life could make her happy. Alice hadn’t changed Amy out of spite (alright, maybe just a little bit after hearing Amy’’s unflattering assessment of her lifestyle), but out of a desire to share her world and make the other girl happy.

And what was in it for her? She’d made a life for herself here in London—with Amy’s house to live in, and Amy’s wage supplementing her own, they had more than enough to get by. They could do what they wanted together—sure, the little manipulation at the start of their relationship sat a little uneasy, but she knew it was for the best. When she’d met Amy, she was uptight, always busy and too judgemental—now, she was a free spirit, and the best girlfriend Alice could have asked for.

She’d set Rainn up with a girlfriend too, and they were both happy. If Sarah was anything like Amy had been, she needed that liberation that only came with living outside the mainstream, embracing alt culture and being your own person, not just some cog in the corporate machine. The Monday after her transformation, Sarah sauntered into the office, demanding to see Harriet the boss, and she’d told her that she was out of the door. The look on the businesswoman’s face, first losing Amy and now Sarah—she just didn’t understand why they would go off the deep end and embrace alt culture, and Sarah knew that she never would. Sarah quit a promising career, just like that, and she felt free. She’d land on her feet in a world that let her be herself, and she was happy with that.

Sarah was always someone who followed. She followed trends, she followed Amy and, with Amy gone at work, she’d have found someone else to follow. Alice merely stepped in and provided Sarah with someone to follow—that suited Rainn, and it quickly suited Sarah. Theirs was a dynamic that Alice knew would click, and so it did.

Alice had seen Sarah with Rainn as their relationship bloomed, and she knew one thing—like her, and like Amy, they were both happy. She knew that they’d be okay, and it didn’t matter if they were accepted by the world, because they all had each other, and that was really what counted.

That, she thought with a devious grin, and we have the spray.

In her experience, that was just the push people needed to change for the better.

She looked at the spray bottle in her cupboard, and she gently closed the door on it.

Knowing it was always there if she needed its transformative powers once again.

And there would always be people who needed to change...

But then she turned around, and looked at Amy’s naked body laying on her bed, tattooed and pierced and rubbing herself as she waited for her.

This beautiful girl who was so dismissive of the goth lifestyle, but had now thrown herself into it, becoming the sexy goth dyke girlfriend Alice knew she could be.

At this moment, this was all she needed.