The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The package sitting by the front door of Meredith’s apartment was disappointingly small, just as she had expected it would be. The barrister – the Englishman had stressed that this was his proper title - had told her as much over the phone. Still, she had hoped for something more substantial. Then again, who was to say how big a box an inheritance would come in? And wasn’t the old saying that good things come in small packages? Meredith opened the door and carried the package through, setting it on the kitchen counter. The words of the English barrister came back to her as she looked for a knife to cut the packing tape.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to it, Miss Thomas,” the difference between Miss and Ms. clear in the man’s clipped British accent. “It’s a rather small item but I’m not allowed to tell you what it is due to a clause in the will. Your Great-Aunt Eleanor was a rather eccentric woman, you know.”

Eccentric, Meredith thought as she carefully slit the packing tape. That was the only word for the weird old woman. She had only met Eleanor once, during a visit to the UK when Meredith was six. Up until now, the only memories Meredith had of her great-aunt were of bad tea and stale cookies.

Finally, she stripped away the last of the tape and opened the box to reveal….a small ocean of foam packing peanuts. Meredith sighed and began scooping them out of the way in search of the item buried within. Whatever the hell this thing is, they sure didn’t want it to get damaged. At last her fingers felt cool glass. She grasped the item and pulled out a small cut-glass bottle. It was a deep emerald green, intricately cut and had a stopper firmly wedged in its top.

Curiosity bloomed in Meredith. She held the bottle up to the light but was unable to see any indication of the contents.

“Well, I guess there’s just one way I’m going to find out what’s in you,” she muttered. Grasping the stopper, she gave a tug. Nothing happened. “Hmmn, you’re wedged in there pretty good…” She leaned into a long, hard pull on the stopper and was about to give up when it suddenly came free in her hand.

There was a bright flash of light and puff of white smoke. Panic flooded through Meredith. Oh fuck it was a bomb or I just set the damned apartment on fire and my landlord’s gonna fucking kill me ... Then the smoke cleared and Meredith found herself looking not at a fire or the aftermath of an explosion but rather at the clear blue eyes of a pretty girl. She was a little shorter than Meredith’s five feet two inches and could be described as tiny, though her breasts were larger than the Meredith’s. Her hair fell in long, light brown waves to her waist. She was dressed in a long white dress in a yellow floral pattern. The girl’s waist was almost too small for her frame and could only have been the result of a tight corset.

The girl stretched and took a deep breath as she looked around the kitchen.

“My word, what a dismal place,” the girl said in an upper-class British accent. “Still, it is good to get out and have a stretch even though I technically don’t have a corporeal form.”

Meredith gaped at the odd girl who had materialized in her kitchen.

“Hello,” the girl said. “Would you do me the favor of telling me where I am?”

It was all too much. Meredith’s legs gave out from under her and she landed on her ass with a dull thump. The bottle, still clutched firmly in her hand, made a clonking sound when it hit the floor. The English girl emitted a small squeaking noise and clapped both hands over her chest.

“Oh, please do be careful,” the girl said. “While that object is just a bottle to you, please remember that it is my home. I should be most grateful if you would do me the favor of not smashing it.”

Meredith simply stared at the girl.

“Hello? Can you speak?”

Meredith’s voice seemed to no longer be connected to her mind. Questions were forming but she seemed to be incapable of saying them.

The brown-haired girl gazed at Meredith for a moment, tapping her chin with one delicate index finger.

“Pouvoir-vous parle?” the girl asked.

There was no response. She then continued. “Puédale habla?” “Ich werde Sie sprechen können?” “Poterla parla?” “Inclusief ga u spreekt kunnen?” Meredith simply stared back at her.

“Let me see….,” the girl said. “What other languages can I try?”

“I can talk,” Meredith muttered, suddenly finding her voice.

“Ah, so you can, and in something approximating the Queen’s English,” the girl said in an irritated tone. “Tell me, how many languages were you going to let me ask that particular question of you in before you gave me the honor of a reply?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you the same question in six different languages – English, French, Spanish, German, Portuguese and Dutch - and was about to repeat it in Mandarin Chinese when you finally spoke,” the girl said. “Since you can understand me and speak, I can only interpret your silence as rudeness.”

Meredith reverted back to staring at the young English woman for a moment, prompting the girl to sigh resignedly.

“I do apologize for snapping, my dear girl,” she said. “I suppose one should be grateful that the bottle wasn’t found by another deaf-mute. My, but that was a long six months.”

“Sorry,” Meredith said. “I’m just a bit stunned. I mean, where did you come from?”

“Do I infer correctly that you do not know what is happening here?” the girl asked.

“Yes, that’s right,” Meredith managed to rise to her feet, carefully placing the bottle on the counter as the girl glared at her. “I’m being careful with it, see?”

“See that you do,” the girl said. “Very well, I shall start at the beginning. I am a jenniyah. That bottle is my home and you have just set me free.”

“Oh, you’re a genie!” Meredith’s face brightened into a smile.

“No, I am a jenniyah,” the girl said in a slightly more irritated tone. “I am a female jinn. I wish that Frenchman who translated jinn as genie had never been born. It’s simply inaccurate! Trust the French to make a hash of something so simple.”

“It’s inaccurate?” Meredith asked, distracted by the passion of the jenniyah’s reply. “What do you mean, don’t I get three wishes?”

“Yes, you get your three wishes,” the girl said. “The term ‘genie’ is inaccurate in that there are many different types of jinn. That blasted Frenchman’s translation has become a generic term for us. I must say, we don’t care for it much.”

She began examining the microwave oven. “What the devil is this device?”

“It’s a microwave oven, you cook in it,” Meredith said.

“This must be something new,” the girl said. “Still, one supposes that one shouldn’t be surprised that things have changed somewhat. What year is it?”

“2007,” Meredith said. “About my wishes…”

“In due course,” the girl said. “2007, you say? That would mean no one has opened my bottle in fifty-two years! No wonder I was feeling a bit constricted. That fool must have misinterpreted my request.”

“What fool? Here, put that down, please,” Meredith said, taking a small portable television from the girl’s hands.

“Is this another one of those oven devices?” the girl asked. “As to the fool, he was the blasted Dutchman who last freed me. I asked that he place the bottle where it could be found quickly. Where have I been all this time?”

“In my grandmother’s attic,” Meredith said. “And no, that’s a television, you watch programs on it.”

“I know what a television is, they had them the last time I was out of the bottle in 1955,” the girl said. “Though at that time, the devices were positively gigantic. I wonder why your grandmother didn’t use the bottle.”

“I don’t know,” Meredith said. “You know, you don’t look like an Arab. Or much like a gen … jenniyah.”

“Quite observant of you,” the girl replied as she continued her exploration of the kitchen. “That is because I am not an Arab. And what, precisely, is a jenniyah supposed to look like?”

The girl pushed the “chop” button on the blender, causing the device to whir into life. This prompted the girl to give a happy grunt and Meredith to reach forward to turn the device off. Her hand brushed against the girl’s. Meredith found, much to her surprise, that the girl’s hand was warm, soft and definitely solid.

“Please, those aren’t toys,” Meredith mumbled. “I don’t know, a jenniyah is supposed to look like a - what do you call it – a harem girl. Like on that TV show, ‘I Dream of Jeanie.’”

The girl stopped poking around the kitchen and turned a withering gaze on Meredith.

“Pray tell me, dear girl,” she said with a sigh. “Did that particular television program air in the last fifty-two years?”

“Yeah,” Meredith nodded. “It was on back in the sixties.”

“Then how, exactly, do you suppose I would have seen it?” the girl asked, her hands spread in a gesture of supplication. “Please try to remember that I have been trapped in that bottle for fifty-two years.”

“Sorry,” Meredith blushed.

“As to your question, I have no intention of parading around in public as naught but what I am,” the girl said with a sniff. “I only dressed like a harem girl once and that was for a, umm, special occasion. The jinn were originally non-corporeal spirits. They only reason they appeared to be Arabic was an attempt to look like the individual who summoned them.”

“So if you’re not an Arab, what are you?” Meredith asked to the girl’s back as she swept out of the kitchen and into the small living room/bedroom.

“My word but this place is small,” the girl said. She turned to face Meredith. “I’m an Englishwoman, of course.” She turned her attention to the stereo. “What does this device do?”

“Look, do you have a name?” Meredith asked in exasperation.

“Oh, I do apologize,” the girl said. She turned from the stereo to face Meredith and gave a small curtsy. “I am Lady Victoria Bledisloe, at your service.”

“Meredith Baxter,” Meredith said. She extended her hand. Victoria sighed, gave Meredith another withering look and then took the offered hand in hers. “It’s nice to meet you, Vickie.”

Victoria drew herself up to her full five-feet. She gave Meredith a look that had caused servants to scurry for cover in years past.

“My name is Victoria, not Vickie,” Victoria said in a voice that could have curdled fresh milk. “What’s more, I do not recall giving permission for you to call me by my given name.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “However, given that you are an American, I shall make certain allowances. You may call me Victoria rather than Lady Bledisloe.”

Meredith opened her mouth to deliver a snappy reply when a layer of denial suddenly peeled off her mind. She was standing in her apartment talking to a jenniyah. This was not a dream. Victoria was real.

Meredith sat down on the sofa with a thump. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

The jenniyah looked down at Meredith for a moment before she smiled and sat down. Victoria took Meredith’s in hers and held them.

“I do apologize, Meredith,” Victoria said warmly. “My manners appear to have suffered greatly during my extended imprisonment. Let’s begin again.”

Victoria stood, straightened her dress and cleared her throat. She curtsied again, drawing a smile and a suppressed giggle from Meredith.

“Hello, my name is Victoria and I am a jenniyah,” Victoria said. “You have freed me and thus are entitled to three wishes. But use them wisely, for they cannot be undone.”

Victoria sat back down. Meredith just looked at her for a moment, shaking her head. “How did you get in there? You said you’re English so you can’t be one of those non … what did you call them?”

“Non-corporeal spirits,” Victoria said.

“Yeah, that,” Meredith said. “So, how did you get in there?”

“That’s not really germane to the issue at hand, which is your wishes,” Victoria said with a smile. “Are you certain you want to know?”

“Yeah, please tell me.”

Victoria’s smile widened as she sat back further on the couch. Her posture was still more upright than Meredith’s but the jenniyah did look more relaxed.

”Very well,” Victoria said. “I was born in 1842 at my family’s townhouse in London, Edgecroft. Family legend holds that I was born on the same billiards table upon which I was conceived, but one can’t give too much credence to such salacious rumours. I was informed of this … unfortunate detail by a distant relative, a cousin several times removed who found my bottle in the 1930s.”

“Are you sure you’re from Victorian England?” Meredith blurted out.

“Yes, why do you ask?” Victoria replied, her displeasure at being interrupted dripping from her voice.

“Well, I mean …” Meredith blushed a deep pink.

“Out with it, girl!” Victoria snapped.

“Well, you’re talking about sex and I thought you guys were all a bunch of prudes, you know,” Meredith replied.

“Oh, I see,” Victoria smiled. “Don’t let that trouble you in the slightest. Whilst it is true that quite a few of us were, as you put it, prudes, I assure you that there was a great deal of fucking going on.”

Meredith gasped in spite of herself. “Well, there was,” Victoria said. “Where do you think all those little Englishmen and –women who took over the world came from?”

“Well, you’ve got me there,” Meredith shrugged.

“Don’t let it trouble you, dear girl,” Victoria said. “Now, where was I … oh yes. I was an only child and as my parents – Sir Victor and Lady Eleanor Bledisloe – were frightfully wealthy, I lacked for nothing. My life was rather idyllic until I was thirteen, when my mother succumbed to an illness and departed this life.”

“I’m so sorry,” Meredith said. “Do they know what it was that killed her?”

“Oh, Mother wasn’t really ill,” Victoria said. “She had the constitution of a plow-horse. It was simply fashionable in those days for ladies of quality to take their sick beds every now and again. So, every two years or so, Mother would work herself into a lather, convince herself she was ill and take to her bed for a month or two.

“I suppose that on that occasion, she simply convinced herself she was ill a little too well.

“As you can imagine, I was devastated by the loss. Father responded to her death by throwing himself into his true passion, his collection of carpet lint. He had the largest collection of carpet lint in the world when he died. I often wonder whatever happened to it.

“He was quite at a loss as to what to do with me, so he did was any Victorian father would do in that situation; he hired a governess.

“That was the true beginning of my education, my dear girl. I’d had tutors before who saw to my education in matters of reading and arithmetic, but Miss Jackson truly opened my eyes to world. You see, my monthly visitor began arriving shortly after Miss Jackson came to live with us. I was mortified but Miss Jackson assured me that it was all perfectly normal. She was quite a dear.

“Then, as my body began to develop, she instructed me as to the pleasures of the flesh. I quickly discovered that she was a Daughter of Sappho and that we shared the same predilection for the fairer sex.” Victoria’s face took on a blissful expression.

“I’ll never forget the night she first performed cunnilingus on me. The things that woman could do with her tongue were simply amazing. She had this trick where she swirled her tongue around my clitoris while she sucked in air. It never failed to bring me to orgasm! Simply delightful, though I could never quite get the hang of it … what the deuce is the matter with you, child? You’ve gone positively green!” Victoria said.

“You’re a dyke?” Meredith looked up and down the seemingly prim and proper young woman sitting before her. “I mean, they had those back then?”

“I take it from your expression that you do not approve of my sexual proclivities,” Victoria said. “Allow me to assure you that your opinion on this matter carries the same weight and significance with me as that of a mosquito sitting on an elephant’s ass. We have always been and always shall be – as you put it – around, my dear girl. May I continue?” Meredith nodded.

“I had four blissful years with Elmira before our time came to an end. I tried to bring her back into the household after father died but she had departed for India,” Victoria’s face twisted into a sour expression. “I was in that blasted bottle before Elmira could receive the telegram informing her that my uncle was dead and that there were no obstacles to her return.

“But, I am getting ahead of myself. When I had turned seventeen, my father was killed while collecting a sample of carpet lint. He was at an acquaintance’s country house when he spied what he took to be a unique sample. Just as he knelt to retrieve the lint, a servant opened a door rather too vigorously. Father’s head was skewered by an oddly-shaped doorstop. The shame of it was that the item in question wasn’t carpet lint but a fluffy bit from some curtains. Father would have been most disappointed.

“The estate was inherited by his brother George, a beastly man with a most puritanical mind. Honestly, from the way he reacted when he walked in on Elmira and me at the country house, you would never have guessed he’d traveled as much as he had,” Victoria said.

“Why?” Meredith asked. “What were you doing?”

“I was rogering her with a black India-rubber dildo on top of the piano in the conservatory,” Victoria said. “She was trussed up like a Christmas goose as well. I’ll grant it was an awkward moment socially but I still maintain he overreacted. Uncle George fired Elmira on the spot and had the stable boy drive her to the station with nothing more than the clothes on her back – once she was dressed – and a single valise.

“The next day, he left to begin the process of having me committed to an asylum for incorrigible young women. Fortune smiled on me as he was killed on his trip to the station in an accident involving two wagons, the local vicar and a duck.”

“That’s terrible, to lose someone else so soon after your father,” Meredith said.

“Oh no, don’t worry,” Victoria replied. “The duck survived … oh, you are referring my uncle. The devil takes him! No, I was quite fond of that duck and was most relieved when I learned it was not injured.”

“Oh,” was all Meredith could mutter.

“Whilst I was waiting for my Elmira to receive my telegram, I occupied myself by exploring the house. That was when I discovered it; a small cut-glass bottle of the most exquisite emerald green. I removed the stopper, there was a puff of the traditional smoke and before me stood a jinn.

“He gave me my three wishes, the disposition of which I gave some thought. I finally decided on the following combination: long life, eternal beauty, and the ability to affect the sexual mores of others.

“In retrospect, I should have been more specific. I only wanted to be able to change the attitudes of those around me as their attitudes towards homosexuality were concerned. The jinn are tricky creatures though and cannot resist an opportunity such as the one I gave him.

“The bastard turn me into a jenniyah,” Victoria said. She leaned back on the couch as far as the boning in her corset allowed. “More specifically, the jinn made me a jenniyah with special abilities where matters of sensuality are concerned.

“By the time Elmira got back to England, I was granting wishes to the fifth person who had found my bottle,” Victoria said wistfully. “Fate dealt me one last chance to see her but by then she was seventy-two and on her death bed.”

Meredith leaned forward, an eager look spreading over her face. “Wait, are you telling me you’re a sex jenniyah?” she asked.

“You Americans,” Victoria said exasperatedly. “It’s all sex, sex, sex. My dear girl, I am a Mistress of Sensuality. I weave masterpieces of erotic delight. I create visions of bliss that change all those who have the good fortune to come into contact with them. My mistresses and masters have been some of the most sensual and compellingly erotic people in history.

“Let me think,” Victoria tapped her temple with one index finger. “Who are some people you’d be familiar with who have benefited from my services …. Aha! I’ve got it. You’ve heard of James Dean, Marlon Brando and Mata Hari?”

Meredith shrugged.

“I worked on all three of them, turned them into the sensual beings they became,” Victoria said. “They were talented but I made them into gods.”

“Big deal,” Meredith said. “I never heard of this Mata person, Dean self-destructed and died in a car crash, and Brando got really, really fat.”

“What?” Victoria said. “Never!”

“No, it’s true,” Meredith said. “Here, I’ll show you.” She sat down at her laptop and connected to her cable modem. “This is a computer and you use it to connect to the Internet. It’s … kind of a gigantic encyclopedia.”

Meredith called up a photo of Brando late in life, prompting a gasp from Victoria. Articles on the deaths of Monroe and Dean were called up for the jenniyah to peruse.

“How awful,” Victoria said several minutes later.

“Yeah, it’s a real shame,” Meredith said. “Let’s get back to my wishes. Can you make me one of those … what did you call them … erotic masterpieces?”

“Certainly,” Victoria nodded. “However, I must first tell you the rules. I cannot make anyone fall in love with you. I can bring people back from the dead but please believe me; you do not want me to do that. It is not pretty and never turns out well. Nor can I alter the course of time.”

“Great, let’s get started,” Meredith said. “I’ll get any boy I want when I’m done.”

“Boys?” Victoria screwed her face up in disgust. “Dear God, their so hairy and crude, why would you want that?”

“You don’t understand,” Meredith said. “I’m okay-looking but I’m not pretty. I know it because I have it thrown in my face every time I go to a club with my girlfriends. I’m fucking sick of it. From now on, I’m going to be the one all the boys want, not the plain girl who gets the last pick of the scrubs. You’re going to make me absolutely gorgeous. ”

“Very well,” Victoria said.

“I wish that I might be able to try different types of female bodies before I pick the one I want to keep.”

“Granted,” Victoria said.

“Great, let me see how I’d look with a body like Elle McPherson’s.”

Victoria cocked an eyebrow at Meredith and gave the American girl a wry look.

“Oh right, the bottle,” Meredith said. She leaned over Victoria’s shoulder and called up Google. Images of the Aussie supermodel quickly filled the laptop’s screen.

“Oh, I say!” Victoria said. “She is delightful. Are more photographs available on this Internet you mentioned?”

“Oh sure,” Meredith replied. “There are even movies. Lots of porn too.”

“Pornography?” Victoria said, cocking an eyebrow at the young American. “Pray tell me, might that include lesbian erotica?”

“Yup, there’s tons of that stuff,” Meredith replied. She quickly showed Victoria how to bring up Google and how to perform a simple search. “Now, about my wish …”

“Hmmn?” Victoria said. “Oh yes, I do apologize.” The jenniyah waved a finger and Meredith’s body flowed to take on the shape of Elle McPherson.

Four hours later

Meredith stood staring down at two breasts the size of basketballs. The tattered remains of her jeans, t-shirt and underwear lay about her.

“Nope, still too big,” Meredith said. “Let’s try them the size of a volleyball.”

“Which is what size precisely?” Victoria asked, not looking up from the computer screen.

“Hmmn, about a fourth smaller, I think,” Meredith said after she pursed her lips in thought for a moment.

Victoria waved a slender index finger; causing Meredith oversized breasts to shrink. The American girl moaned softly, stroking her button-shaped nipples.

“That’s almost starting to feel too good,” Meredith said with a tired smile.

“I would point out that these sensations were entirely your choice,” Victoria said. “I made them more pleasurable after the first unfortunate … enlargement you requested.”

“How was I supposed to know that asking for boobs as big as Chelsea Charms would hurt that badly?” Meredith asked. She crossed her arms under her firm, round breasts, which now stuck straight out from her chest.

“Dear girl, Miss Charms has breasts that are bigger than her torso and head combined,” Victoria said. “I did try to warn you that it would be unpleasant. I even fixed the resulting torn ligaments, muscles and broken bones from that nasty tumble you took without asking you to wish for that particular service.”

“That’s true,” Meredith said. She idly explored her new breasts. This might be a good size, she thought. They were deliciously sensitive and would definitely stop traffic.

“Honestly, I do not see why you are insisting on breasts that have that appearance,” Victoria said in an exasperated tone. “I can make them that large but still look like … breasts! Those abominations look like someone bolted medicine balls to your chest. I should be frightfully embarrassed if anyone were to discover that I was responsible for their creation.”

“Hey!” Meredith snapped. “This is the kind of boob I want and this is the kind of boob I’m gonna get! It’s what a lot of boob jobs look like these days.”

“But it doesn’t have to look, to use your base American term, like a boob job,” Victoria said. The diminutive English jenniyah rose and began to pace the room. “I have been most patient throughout this exercise, you know. I have changed your body into countless variations – my favorite being green with yellow Zebra stripes – but please, show some sense! This really is too much.”

“I thought you were supposed to be my jenniyah and grant my wishes,” Meredith said. Her anger began to raise, a dark tide building inside her. Victoria had been getting increasingly snippy as the evening wore on. “Instead, all I’m getting is a lot of bitchiness.”

“Bitchiness?” Victoria asked with one eyebrow raised. “Dear girl, you have not begun to see bitchiness.”

“Stop calling me that!” Meredith shouted. She waved her arms and stomped around the apartment, causing her enormous breasts to jiggle wildly. “I am not your ‘dear girl.’ I am you Mistress.”

“What?”

“I am your Mistress and I demand that you call me that.” Meredith resolutely placed her hands on her newly enhanced, sensuously curved hips and attempted to stare Victoria down.

She was unprepared for the jenniyah’s response. Victoria threw back her head and gave a peal of laughter.

“You are many things, Meredith,” Victoria said. “You are silly, immature and uncultured, but you most definitely are not my mistress.”

“I have just about had it with you!” Meredith said, her frustrating reaching boiling point. “You know, you could be more helpful!”

“What are you saying?” Victoria replied with a quizzical expression.

“I wish you’d be more helpful, that’s what I’m saying!”

“Granted,” Victoria said quickly. A sly smile spread across the jenniyah’s face. Meredith froze, unable to move anything but her eyes which were wide with panic.

“You know, I’ve only been a jenniyah for one hundred and fifty years or so,” Victoria said. She strode to Meredith, her long dress billowing around her legs. “That is not very long in the grand scheme of things. The jinn who made me what I am was five-thousand years old. Even in this relatively short period of time though, I have learned something about humans.

“What I have learned, my dear Meredith,” Victoria said, “is that humans are deliciously easy to trick. Some make foolish wishes out of greed or anger. They are not specific in what they ask for. But still, we can only work with the material that is given to us, working to find gaps and spaces where there tricks can be played.

“Dear girl, I have waited for a century and a half for someone to give me such an opening. For that, you have my thanks. I’m still going to use this loophole – I do love that Americanism – to your disadvantage, but I am grateful. It hasn’t been easy waiting for you but patience does have its rewards.”

Victoria took Meredith’s face in her hands and delivered a long, slow kiss to the immobile woman. Victoria then rested her forehead against Meredith’s, closed her eyes and sighed. “Have you any idea, dear girl, how long it has been since I kissed someone? Do you?”

Victoria pulled back and gazed deeply in Meredith’s eyes. The only emotions she saw there were revulsion and anger. “Oh, sweet girl, I know you didn’t find that to be pleasant at all but don’t worry,” Victoria said. She caressed the motionless girl’s face. “I’m going to help you with all the improper thoughts which are bouncing around inside your head.

“You wished that I would be more helpful and I intend to do just that.”

Meredith’s skinned crawled. Her stomach was an icy lump of muscle cramping in her guts. If she could have moved, Meredith would have puked. As it was, she could only stand immobile under a raging torrent of icy fear.

Victoria stroked Meredith’s hair and then gently took the American girl’s face in her warm, soft hands. Despite herself, Meredith took some comfort in the contact. She watched as if from a distance as Victoria carefully arranged the fingertips of both hands along her face and forehead. Sweat distilled from pure panic ran in small rivulets past Victoria’s fingers.

Victoria gently turned Meredith’s head down to face her. She gave the motionless girl a gentle smile, leaning forward as if too kiss her again, only to stop a few millimeters from Meredith’s mouth.

“Let me in,” Victoria said, her warm breath passing over Meredith’s lips.

Meredith could do nothing but stand idly by and watch while Victoria flowed into her mind. She fought back, pushing and straining against the jenniyah to no effect. Victoria was a bank of cool fog flowing across the tormented contours of Meredith’s mind. Ultimately, Meredith could find no purchase against this subtle attack and could only watch as changes were made.

The fog flowed relentlessly Meredith, erasing and changing as it went. Panic blossomed once again when the fog reached the core of Meredith’s identity, her attraction to men. Meredith’s sexuality had blossomed early in her teens and while she learned early on that while boys didn’t find her very attractive, her willingness to fuck them more than made up for any deficits in her appearance. By developing a reputation as a woman willing to spread her legs for a cute guy, she had developed popularity of a sort.

Women, in Meredith’s worldview, were obstacles or rivals, enemies to be bested in clubs and bars. What few friends she had were pretty girls Meredith secretly hated but used to get what she wanted; a warm body to fuck on a Saturday night.

Victoria took Meredith’s conscious mind and placed it on a virtual shelf, allowing her to see all this clearly for the first time. Sorrow welled up in Meredith, flowing from deep wounds she had never known were there. All that wasted time and effort spent trying to salve her wounded ego.

With a gesture from Victoria, all the grief and anger was gone. The wounds in her self-image healed before Meredith’s wondering eyes, leaving her healed. Meredith watched as her mindscape transformed into a garden, barren of anything but a few twisted plants.

Victoria went to work. Flowers in a riot of colors quickly grew and blossomed. Watching their growth, Meredith began to think of the few women who were close to being her friends. The flowers spread around the edge of the garden in a passionate display, filling Meredith’s mind with swathes of red, yellow, orange, purple and lilac.

Meredith found herself thinking of these women in an all new light. The curve of their breasts, the swell of their ass cheeks, their ripe lips begging to be kissed; these all took on a new meaning for her. Memories of showering with friends in gym class rose in her mind. Meredith found herself wishing she had known then what she knew now; that the vale between her friends’ legs contained hidden delights.

The first burst of pleasure throbbed through Meredith’s mind when the outer ring of flowers was complete. A distant thought tickled the edges of Meredith’s mind. It tried to tell her something was wrong, that this wasn’t normal but she was too distracted to give it much thought. Instead, she simply relaxed and went with the flow of her thoughts.

She wished she had taken the opportunity to step over to her beautiful best friend in those days when she was discovering boys, Andrea, and take her warm, curvy body in her arms. To feel their soft breasts crushed between them as she kissed Andrea deeply, their tongues dancing … this was wrong, unusual, but it gradually felt so good, so right … leaning over to lift Andrea’s breast and swirl her tongue around her erect nipple before kissing her way down Andrea’s body … this isn’t normal, not what I usually do … to kneel before her friend and finally plunge her hungry mouth, lips, tongue, teeth into Andrea’s warm, wet depths …

The flowers began to flow toward the center of the garden. Meredith felt each new plant take hold, sending roots down into the fertile soil of her psyche. She was changing, Victoria was changing her and she knew that would have bothered her in the past. That was the wrong way to think, though. This couldn’t be bad. Everything felt so sweet, so right, so perfect. So beautiful. Pleasure began to well within Meredith, growing as the plants crept toward the center of the garden.

The thoughts shifted in Meredith’s mind. It wasn’t Andrea she knelt before in her fantasy but Victoria. A small, fierce orgasm nipped at the edges of her soul. Yes, a voice whispered in her mind. This was right. This was her place, kneeling before this glorious creature, a superior being in every way. Meredith was meant to serve Victoria, to abase herself and perform any function, no matter how banal. Victoria was beautiful, sensual, sexy. The jenniyah was everything. She was the center of Meredith’s universe. Nothing was beyond the pale. Meredith would serve, kneeling, fucking, suckling, caressing, lavishing her Mistress’ pussy with slavish intensity until She was brought to Her rightful state of bliss, coming on Her slave’s mouth …

A final flower bloomed in the center of Meredith’s mind, a perfect lilac iris. With that, the pleasure building in Meredith finally crested, brimming over to pour through her mind. The torrent washed away the few remaining doubts and fears, questions and worries. In the end all that remained in her mind was the garden and endless stretches blissful obedience.

Meredith opened her eyes to find her reason for existing standing before her. Pleasure burst in her soul while a need roared in Meredith, demanding to be spoken.

“Victoria ...” Meredith began, then stopped, staring open mouthed at the jenniyah.

“Yes, dear girl?” Victoria asked. She delicately stroked Meredith’s cheek.

“May I,” Meredith started, and then took a deep breath. “May I … kiss you?”

“Of course you may, dear Meredith,” Victoria said, smiling broadly. “Why did you hesitate to ask?”

“Because,” Meredith said as the tears began to pour down her cheeks. “Because I was so mean to you earlier. I was so judgmental and so … mean because you’re a lesbian but I was wrong. Oh God, Victoria, I was so wrong.

“Please, Victoria. Please let me kiss you. I need to. I need you.”

“Certainly,” Victoria said. She waved a finger. “You may move.”

Slowly, delicately, Meredith reached out for Victoria. She placed her hands alongside the jenniyah’s breasts without touching them, instinctively giving Victoria the dominant position of being the one to reach up and control the kiss.

Everything in Meredith fell into place with a resounding click when their lips met. The soft, simple kiss was a blissful homecoming; a first step toward learning this glorious woman’s (Mistress’) body.

Yes, Mistress, Meredith thought. That is Her place. That is Her title.

“Mistress,” Meredith breathed the sweet word when they finally broke the kiss. “How may I serve you?”

“You will be my lady’s maid, my dear girl,” Victoria said. “You will attend to me in all my needs, no matter what they may be.”

“What will I do?” Meredith asked, a concerned look passing across her face.

“Why, you will bathe me, dress me, make love to me, and attend to any and every need. You will live with me in the bottle and be immortal,” Victoria said as Meredith began to cry.

“What’s wrong, sweet Meredith?”

“I don’t know how to do any of those things, Mistress,” Meredith said, choking back the tears. “I’m afraid I will fail you.”

“You needn’t worry,” Victoria said. “Do you remember when I told you about my governess, Elmira? About how my uncle sent her away and I was turned into a jenniyah before she returned?” Meredith nodded, wiping away her tears. Mistress was wise and already had a plan. There was no need to worry.

“By happy chance, I was able to find her though she was on her death bed at the time,” Victoria said. “I managed to capture her essence, though. I will be able to combine you with her, creating a perfect lady’s maid with her knowledge of how to care for me and your perfect obedience.”

“But Mistress, what will happen to me?” Meredith said, panic in her voice. “Will I still be there, still be me? I couldn’t bear to be parted from you.”

“And you shan’t be,” Victoria said. She kissed Meredith gently and stroked her cheek. “Part of you will always be there in a blissful state of pure obedience. Elmira will be there as well – you will like her, do not worry – but I will use part of both of you to create a new persona.

“I believe I shall call her Patience,” the jenniyah said with a smile. “How does that sound to you?”

Meredith smiled and visibly relaxed. “I trust you, Mistress. If you say it is so, then it will be so.”

“Good, my sweet Meredith,” Victoria said. She held out one hand before her and a small blue jar materialized. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Meredith did as her Mistress bade her. The jenniyah removed the stopper from the jar.

“Now Meredith, breathe in.”

Victoria manipulated her fingers over the open jar, drawing out a thin trail of vapors. The mist flowed through Meredith’s lips. For a moment there was no sign that change was taking place.

Meredith opened her eyes to find herself standing in an immense meadow. Slowly, she became aware of another presence as a woman materialized in front of her. She was short and curvaceous, though she was a little taller than Victoria. Her long blond hair was fixed in a neat bun and her oval face had a simple beauty.

“Hello, my name is Elmira,” the woman said. “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Elmira seemed completely nonplussed to find that she was standing before a nude stranger.

“My name is Meredith.” Elmira stepped forward, taking the American girl in her arms. They kissed her deeply for a moment before Elmira laid her head on Meredith’s shoulder.

“You’ve no idea how grateful I am to finally meet you, dear girl,” Elmira whispered. “I have waited so many years to be with Lady Victoria again, to serve her. Now, with your help, this will finally be possible.”

“I’m glad too,” Meredith said before the two settled into another delicious kiss.

“Are you ready?” Elmira asked.

“Yes,” Meredith replied.

“Then open yourself, sweet Meredith,” Elmira said.

As one, Meredith and Elmira opened themselves. Their forms began to lose cohesion and swirled together. Meredith’s eyes rolled back into her head and then closed as she felt herself merge with Elmira in a torrent of sensation.

In her minds eye Meredith saw the two of them flow into one another. In the oddest of sensations, Meredith still felt the parts of her that slid away to meld with Elmira to form Patience. They were one but still two distinct beings. Meredith sighed with contentment as more of her flowed away to make up the new entity.

This was bliss. It was Mistress’ perfect will. Thousands of tiny jolts of pleasure erupted as all of Elmira opened to her. She tasted of experiences lived a century before and felt them become part of who she was. Meredith felt Elmira’s pleasure as the English servant absorbed the American slave’s obedience.

Finally, with one crashing orgasm, Patience’s consciousness became whole. Meredith smiled, basking in the eternal afterglow. She had been so foolish, realizing that she was somehow still intact and aware. Nothing was lost. Instead she gained so much through pouring herself out to help form Patience.

At last it was done. The parts that were still uniquely Elmira and Meredith floated submissive bliss within the new creation. Patience was the perfect combination of Elmira’s knowledge and Meredith’s newfound submissiveness, together with the lust and devotion both felt toward Victoria.

The combination was, quite naturally, all that Mistress had promised it would be.

Patience opened her eyes for the first time. She gazed upon her Mistress, smiled broadly and dropped into a deep curtsy, a gesture that seemed oddly appropriate despite the fact that the lady’s maid was nude.

“My Lady,” Patience said in an upper-class English accent.

“How is everything?” Victoria asked.

“Quite well, Lady Victoria,” Patience replied. “Elmira and Meredith are getting along swimmingly. They look forward to serving you through me.”

“Splendid,” Victoria said. “Now, let’s do something about your appearance.”

In a few moments, Patience was completely transformed. Her height was altered until she was two inches shorter than her Mistress while her hair became the darkest black and spilled to her waist before it was gathered into a neat bun. Patience’s face became an amalgam of the best attributes of Elmira and Meredith’s features. Her breasts were slightly reduced in size from the volleyball dimensions Meredith had last experimented with, though Victoria did give them the appearance of glorious natural breasts.

Finally, Victoria clad Patience as a proper Victorian lady should be; a long floral dress with silk petticoats, knee-high lace front boots, gloves and a snug corset to support her breasts.

Victoria then summoned the remaining part of Patience that was Meredith. “There is one more item I require from you, dear Meredith.”

“You have but to name it, my Lady,” Meredith said, bowing her head.

“I need you to cast you final wish. You are to wish that after each person who finds the bottle casts their third wish, the bottle will be found again within seventy-two hours. It is never to be misplaced or hidden. Is that clear?”

“It shall be so, my Lady,” Meredith said. She then repeated the wish as her Mistress had dictated.

“Thank you, dear girl,” Victoria said. The jenniyah closed her eyes and smiled. “That is much better. I can feel the change already.” She switched her servant back to her Patience persona. “Wait for me in the bottle, my dear.”

Patience curtsied, and then vanished in a puff of smoke. Victoria scanned the tiny apartment, pausing to add the laptop and Internet to her bottle. The jenniyah was just about to return to her bottle when an object caught her attention. She strode into the kitchen and picked up a cream-coloured envelope that had apparently fallen from the box in which the bottle had been shipped.

Victoria tore open the envelope and read the enclosed letter. A sly grin spread across her face. She dropped the envelope back in the box and waved a finger, causing both to vanish. Victoria then returned to her bottle.

Had another person been present and had the opportunity to look over Victoria’s shoulder, they would have seen a short note written in a halting hand.

Dearest Meredith,

At the risk of seeming to be completely mad, I must make a request of you. You must never open the bottle enclosed in this box. It contains a jenniyah, a trickster which must never be freed again. Please humour an old woman, Meredith. Place the bottle on a shelf and never touch it again.

Please believe me; I have your best interests at heart.

With love,

Aunt Eleanor