"I'm glad the boys are gone, Emmy. Do you mind if I call you Emmy?" asked Liza as she pulled on the leather thong around her neck to reveal the trinket she'd borrowed.

Hearing "Emmy," though, brought her back to reality. She hated it. Her sister called her that, and it bothered her... but it was getting harder to remember what she liked and didn't like.

Emily was struggling internally. She had run out of things to talk about - all she could notice was how beautiful Liza looked in her dress; and, how beautiful she had to be underneath it. Between the small chunks of microconversaion they'd been having since dinner, all she could think about was licking - licking!! - every available inch of Liza's body.

She was frequently reminded by a tiny yet urgent voice - like someone screaming at her from the other side of a wall - that something was wrong, that she loved Nelson, that she loved men, and that she didn't like girls. Each time she remembered this, though, a new barrage of torrid thoughts about the voluptuous woman would wash the warning voice away... at least, temporarily.

Coming back to reality after too many seconds to reckon, she said, "sure, Emmy is fine, Liza. Can I call you Liz?" The question came out a bit more timidly than she had intended. Before she could question her tone, though, she saw the glowing rock - at least it looked like it was glowing - that Liza was holding. It almost looked like she was petting it!

"Actually, we'll get to what you can call me later," she told Emily with a voice that had just a hint of icy coldness to it. Standing up, Liza continued. "Emmy, would you come here?"

For reasons beyond her comprehension, the request seemed almost too nicely stated - it seemed inappropriate to be "asked" to do this. There was no hesitation before obedience ('Did I just think that word? Obedience? Where did that come from?'). She stood up and walked up to Liza, feeling good to have something to do for her... friend? She shook slightly as she dreamed - briefly - of how nice it would be to be more than just friends.

It never occurred to her that her body was now not completely under her own control.

Liza decided to torture Emily a little by suddenly getting serious. "How long do you think you can deny your true desires? Your true love? I've seen the way you've been sneaking glances at these," she said, her hands caressing her large breasts through her dress. The necklace was now hanging between them on top of the cloth, on the outside of the gown.

"I... just think you're pretty. That's not the same thing as staring at your titties, thinking of licking my way from nipple to nipple, then going down to your navel and onward towards your... (gasp!)"

Liza laughed softly. "You were saying?"

"No! I... don't like girls. I think this is all a mi... mistake. I should leave. Where's my..."

"Boyfriend?" Liza interrupted. "Where did you leave that man, hmmm?"

Nervously, Emily looked around the room, hoping to find her boyfriend. "Where is that... what's his name? Neil? Nelson! Where the fuck did he oh, she is soooo soft and pretty and... no, no, no, NO, keep it together, keep it together, and get out. Get Nelson and get out. You do not like her... you don't fuck women... you don't appreciate the smell of pussy as your nose approaches the shining trophy between every woman's legs, with your tongue sticking out as far as it can reach the tip of her clit and start...'

'Oh fuck, what's wrong with me? I like men, right? RIGHT?'

Liza, unsure of how the necklace was working and realizing that it didn't matter, continued. "I know you rubbed against me on purpose today. You know, when you were on your way to the door. How deliciously naughty of you," she gently chided the trembling Emily, who backed away slightly. Liza, amused at the defensive move, reached back to unzip her dress.

Emily could not take her eyes away. She was equally and powerfully horrified and aroused by the thought of her friend getting naked in front of her.

"How much time can pass before you finally admit that you're attracted to me? That you're more attracted to me than you've ever been to any man, especially that Nelson guy? Didn't he actually left a pretty little thing like you in here with me to go watch hockey in the den?"

By the time she finished that sentence, she was almost naked, wearing only a green bra and matching thong - both of which were the same deep, dark green as the dress heaped near Liza's feet. Her eyes almost shone with an intoxicating shade of blue-green.

'I thought she had light blue eyes... oh, but they're... too beautiful... don't look, don't look! Something's wrong, you don't get turned on by ... oooooh, her hands are on her tits... what do they feel like... no, no, get out!' Emily's thoughts screamed - but the inner voice, while frantic, was getting further away and harder to hear.

As the internal debate raged, her body began to betray her completely. Visibly, she started to tremble, and she lowered her head penitently - and wondered why she felt that way.

She questioned her actions for only one brief moment, though. She just knew it was the right way to stand in front of Liza - no matter what other issues she had to sort out about why she was acting like this, she simply understood what body language she should use in front of Liza.

The only problem with this was the fact that she couldn't look at Liza.

'I want to look at her... pretty eyes... tits...oh no, no, come back! We're not this way!' some quiet, half-hearted voice objected, before being pushed away by her body's latest desire: the desire to cum. She had become uncontrollably horny gradually as her internal debate raged on. The struggle for her will, it seemed, had made her less aware - temporarily - of her need, but there was no denying it now.

Straight or not, she had to cum. Cum, or somehow escape. Given her body's recent (mostly) involuntary actions, though, she doubted that was much possible.

"You want to look at me, don't you? Well, first, prove that you're at least worthy. Since I am almost completely naked, why are you still wearing... those?" she asked, pointing in mock disgust at Emily's clothes. She knew that she had worded it correctly - her captive began to undress.

Suddenly aware that her body was making the decisions for her, her brain's alarms buzzed with renewed vigor. 'This isn't happening! You are not stripping in front of a woman! STOP!' Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, though, and continued to remove any clothing they could get - well, themselves - on.

"You do what your told. Do you know what that makes you? Speak up, girl." Liza innocently asked.

"Liza, help me... I can't stop... I don't want this go God I don't want to I don't... help me, something's wrong, but it feels so good when you tell me... when I obey... oh what's wrong... where's... oh, what's his name... please get him I have to cum... I mean, go..."

Laughing at the fact Emily still didn't quite understand what was going to happen, she answered her own question. "The word you're searching for is slave. You don't mind if I call you that, do you? Slave?" she teased, heartened somehow by the control which she suddenly felt grow within her. Liza felt it rear up through her heart, which was underneath the spot on her chest where the necklace had hung. It felt natural. It felt right.

Glancing down at the charm, Liza noticed it wasn't shining as much. Taking a brief, quick look, it seemed as if it actually had some black ink mixing slowly with the viscous, glowing, emerald substance.

But, she didn't care about that. Slave still had not answered. Since this was the first time Emily had heard the name - her new name - Liza allowed her a little time to digest it. 'Besides, if I'm doing this right, that word should have sent shivers down her spine and right into her cunt,' Liza figured.

Emily, barely able to stand, was trembling with desire - a desire she thought she could feel slowly dripping down one of her thighs - was losing the battle against the overwhelming desires of her body. Her intellect seemed to be remembering that she wasn't like this, that this wasn't her. But, her most primal urge could not go unanswered, and almost against her own volition, she shakily answered, "Slave... Yes, Liz..."

"Yes what?" Liza yelled, amazed at the fact she'd almost used her name. She was getting drunk with the power she held over her future pet, and she decided that things were about to get serious.

"Don't answer. Kneel - a slave should kneel, and since you've accepted the name, you should get used to all that it entails. And don't look at me until you know how to address me."

Quickly dropping to her knees and staring at the ground like a frightened little girl in church, she stared at the carpet, as if it in its patterns of looped fibers it held some secret code that could be deciphered... some secret name she should know but didn't... something to please her friend... 'no, not my friend. Not my friend. I work with her. I don't want her... I love... I love... his name... oh fuck I can't remember his name!'

Frantically, Emily tried to regain some semblance of control. 'I need to get away... she's my friend... you don't fuck friends... you don't like girls... no, she's still my friend... maybe not... slaves aren't friends to their... their...oh! Yes!' Her mind was lit ablaze with pleasure when the word came to her

"Mistress!" she blurted out, before she could make her tone more pleasing. It was followed by a throaty moan. She had just experienced a very small orgasm without being touched, and it was enough to push that dissenting voice in her head back even further.

Her one part of her mind that was still in control of itself continued its protest through the deepening fog that seemed to be quarantining it from the rest of her very being. 'This isn't right! Something isn't right! Get out! Get...' was all she could really register.

The desire to enjoy again the sudden thrills she'd just experienced - just from obeying and saying one glorious word - was quickly displacing whatever doubts she'd had about who she wanted to be with that night... who she needed to be with that night.... and every night thereafter.

Liza had moved to another part of the room and had taken a seat on a sofa with her legs spread, exposing her pussy. She called out to Emily, using only her new name. It was the only name she'd ever need for the rest of her life.

"Slave."

The voice came from somewhere else in the room, and slave was suddenly afraid that she would not be able to see her Mistress when she opened her eyes. Mistress had moved and she didn't know to where. Even as the word gave her goose bumps, she still weakly tried to think of a way to escape. A tiny speck of her mind was all too aware of what was happening, and it did not like losing control - not like this.

"Turn around, close your eyes, and look up," Mistress Liza ordered. Slave complied, as timidly as a person could possibly be. Closing her eyes tightly, she looked up to where she figured the face of her Mistress would be, and slowly started to crack her eyelids.

'No, no, don't look! Her eyes... it's her oh oh ooooh oh my...' she thought as her eyes began to open.

At the first squinty, slightly blurry sight of Liza's jade-colored eyes, slave's eyelids opened widely, of their own volition. As she stared into those perfect eyes, the color bored into her, smoothing over the last remnants of her free will and independence - and painting over all evidence of such things ever having existed at all with a thick coat of luminescent green.

'Don't let it... smooth... so sexy... so perfect... no wait escape... oh my Goddess, She is so perfect, so perfect...'

Slowly, as the last pieces of her old personality were either soaked in green or obliterated altogether, she lowered her eyes, examining every inch of her Mistress from top to bottom. She noticed the perfect breasts, beautiful and worthy of worship in their own right. Hard, pink nipples stood at attention on the apex of the curve of each one, and between them hung a dark crystal of some kind... it was black or very dark green; with all the swirling going on inside it, she couldn't really tell.

A barely-discernable voice told her 'Don't look... look away... don't look down... look away... look ohhhhhh'

Continuing down past the navel, she saw a light patch of blonde pubic hair - it was a well-trimmed, slender triangle that almost pointed to her... to her...

'Oh my Goddess...' was the only thought when she saw Liza's flawless, wet pussy. Any mental objections she'd had simply vanished at the wonderful sight, never to return again.

Ever.

"You know I desire your service, don't you? You can see my need, and my need is your need. You can smell my desire, and satisfying my desire is your only purpose." Lightly rubbing her wet pussy with her hand, she asked, "Do you know what this is?"

Slave just looked dumbly at it for the first several seconds, in simple adoration. She loved it. She wanted it, if she were allowed to have it. She'd do anything to get it. Anything. But, there was another question that needed and answer, and thinking wasn't so easy at that moment. If only Mistress would do it for her...

"Close your eyes again, and don't open them until you can answer me."

Frantically, she searched her mind for any word that matched what she felt - what she knew - what she wanted - what she NEEDED. She needed to find the magic word.

Finding the magic word would mean she could serve at the temple between her Mistress's legs. Serving would induce pleasure in her Mistress. Giving Mistress pleasure meant slave could feel pleasure. Suddenly, it hit her, and she never would know from whence it came.

"It's the center... of..."

Raising an eyebrow, Liza encouraged her to continue. "The center of what, slave?"

"The center of my being. My pleasure depends on its contentment. My thoughts always fall on it. It is all I have ever wanted. All that I am, all that I have been, and all that I long to be revolves around it. It is the Center. It is my Center."

Thrilled that she'd learned so quickly, Liza - almost glowing in a barely-visible viridian aura - allowed her slave to open her eyes. Words were not necessary; she simply imagined Emily's eyes opening and they did. She was most pleased to see they were now a deep shade of jade - just like hers were.

When slave opened her eyes at the unspoken command, the only fight taking place in her mind was the battle to keep from leaping into her Mistress's arms. That could displease her. She would wait, no matter how deliciously agonizing it was, until summoned.

"Crawl to me. Serve me."

As reverently as she could, the slave crawled towards her Mistress. Ignoring the only disruption to the utter silence (caused by two strange men walking out of the room) that had fallen after She had last spoken, she continued her journey. Each inch closer stoked fires of pure animal lust that she knew she'd need help controlling.

Thankfully, her Mistress was firmly control.

Each movement forward increased the heat she could feel on her face - heat emanating from the Center. As it simmered within slave's body, it slowly burned away the last remnants of the person she was before.

In her mouth, she could almost taste what was coming next. And as she got her first taste of Liza's ambrosia, she began to lick it - gently at first, then increasing her speed until her Mistress's hips raised up off the couch she was sitting on.

Liza screamed almost immediately in orgasm. Her cum made slave's face damp, and everywhere it touched, burned with desire so hot it made her stop so she could process the new sensations.

"Don't stop until I tell you. My, you have much to l.. l... ooooh..." was all She could manage before her slave's skillful manipulations made her stop talking. Within a few minutes, she came again. She would climax at least half a dozen more times before she'd had enough.

When she was almost completely spent, she put her hand on slave's head and breathily said, "you've... mmmm, done well, slave. You have pleased me. Does that make you happy?"

Shivering with delight she'd never quite felt before, she replied, "yes, Mistress... but..."

"'But?' Slave, do you want something?"

Her body was burning with a need she'd never experienced before, and she needed release... gathering her courage, she asked, "Mistress, would you let your slave cum... she is so close..."

"But you haven't touched yourself."

"I know, but I am soooo close. Please let me... oh..." her hands, somehow unable to touch her own body, sat motionless on the floor - she could not touch herself! It was cruel, it was torture! To make a body feel this good and not let the person in it cum...

"Enough, slave. Look at me."

The former coworker obeyed, getting an additional thrill out of carrying out even the smallest order.

Holding her pet's chin in her hand, she gave the order she'd dreamed of giving all day.

"Cum for me."

Feeling the heat that was radiating from her clit spread throughout her body, the orgasm shot through her like a bold of lightning. The feeling spread to every inch of her skin - every nerve in her body sang the climax in unison.

The sensations were more than more than orgasmic. As her body fell backwards - to her, it was like slow motion - she felt, for the first time she could remember, that she finally had one, true purpose. Lying here, awaiting another chance to serve her Mistress, felt like coming home after a life-long absence.

She had indeed come home. And, she would never leave home again.

It was about an hour later when Liza went to the kitchen, still naked. She was carrying the necklace, which was now completely black. He held out his hand expectantly.

She gave it to him. "Here you go. It turned black... is that important? The effects are permanent, right?"

"We already went over this. It's permanent."

She looked at how tightly he held it, and wondered why. Looking at his eyes when she noticed he was not wearing his shades, she saw that they were not black - but bright green.

'I could have sworn they were black. They were black, weren't they' she asked herself as he gripped the bauble tightly.

As he squeezed the crystal, the green fluid seemed to regenerate, displacing the darkness... a darkness she could almost - almost - visualize traveling into his hand, up his veins, and into head.

She wasn't sure if that's what had just happened or if she was imagining it, but there was no mistaking the fact that darkness was displacing any color she thought she had seen in his eyes. It looked like dark oil mixing with green paint. When he looked directly at her, she saw the same black orbs she had seen earlier that day.

He put on his shades and stood up. "Goodbye, Liza. I hope you enjoyed your moment of divinity. When you're with her," he said, pointing to where Emily slept on the floor in the living room, "You'll be able to feel that way any time you want. After all, you paid for it."

"Wait - what was the price?" she asked again.

"Don't worry - nothing grotesque will happen, but I think it's only fair to tell you that your pet has paid the same price. You two are bound for life."

She sat down at a table in the kitchen, trying to figure out why he was dodgy about the price question... and why he smirked when he said they'd be together forever. She didn't worry about it for too long, though. She did get what she wanted, after all.

After several minutes, she realized she was sitting alone in the kitchen - Horatio had left. At about the same time she realized he had gone, the sound of a woman moaning came from the living room. Her slave was waking up.

Feeling frisky again, she walked into the room. Liza was ready to embrace her new life, and knowing that the woman who was formerly called Emily had already done so made it all that much sweeter.

Pocketing his crystal, Horatio walked down the street, enjoying the night air on his face. Having just absorbed half the life force of two beautiful women, he was in no mood for further hunting. He'd just had a full meal, and neither woman would ever know how lucky they had been to survive the encounter.

If he were a normal man, he might have felt sorry for his deceitfulness; but then again, he did not promise Liza long life. He simply told her that, if she chose to accept his offer, she would not only get to keep her very own personal slave - for her to use in any way she saw fit - but that she would also die a beautiful woman; never touched by the ravages of time.

Of course, that did mean shortening her life - and her slave's - by a few decades. And, he was never quite clear on exactly what kind of meal he required as payment. But, at least he had kept his word.

He went to the first bar he found, and there was Nelson, drowning his sorrow with a few shots of whiskey. Horatio had made him watch much of the spectacle, and didn't let him intervene - he just allowed the poor man to watch enough of the activities to understand that Emily had made a decision about her future - a future that didn't include Nelson.

Feigning pity for the newly single man, Horatio took a seat next to him and had a couple of drinks. For about half an hour, he shared the kinds of meaningless platitudes that the typical man was bound to hear sooner or later when it's known that his woman just left him for someone else. He left the bar, though, when he saw Sarah come in. (At least, that's what he thought she was calling herself this week.)

"What's a handsome... uh, thing like you doing in a place like this, eh, Horatio? Ha! Horatio... where do you come up with these names?" a woman, who was dressed in dark colors and wore black sunglasses (even inside the dank bar) asked.

"What can I say, I'm a fan of the classics."

"Hand it over; you've had your meal," she told him with her hand open. When he handed her the necklace, the green dissipated and almost immediately began to glow a deep, cherry red. "Green, eh? Feeling a little generous today, were we?"

"Hey, I like it when people cook for me. But, I see you're taking the direct approach. Anyone in particular in mind?"

She kissed him, tracing his lips with her tongue. "Mmmmm... you had seconds, you naughty boy. Well, I kinda figured I'd play with your friend over there," she whispered.

"Hey, now, he did have a hard night. Go easy on him, OK?" he joked.

"Don't worry. He's a man. This'll only take an hour or so."

Nelson's feelings of anger and betrayal gradually evaporated as he talked to Sarah, even though he was curious as to why she wore sunglasses inside the poorly-lit bar. Of course, having 4 shots of Jack Daniels in his system was more than a small boost to his confidence. Feeling completely at ease around the prettiest girl in the bar, he decided to see if he could score a sympathy fuck.

'Sympathy fuck? Dammit, man, you've never seriously thought that before...'

"So," Sarah began, tiring of sending out subtle hints and not-so-subtle corruptive energy to broken-hearted man, "I'll make this easy for you. I like to play, and you look like you could use a good game to take your mind off of Emily. What if I told you that this was your lucky night? You're alone, I'm alone, and, well..."

He didn't need to be told more. Sure, he still felt some love for Emily, but his dick was in charge now. 'I don't remember actually saying her name... how did she know?' he wondered.

'Fuck it. She's throwing herself at you - go to the pisser, get some rubbers, and take her home!'

"Let's go to my place," he slyly suggested.

When she readily agreed, and felt the bulge in his pants, he added, "I hope when my buzz wears off, I don't forget this."

Sarah coolly responded, "The thought of forgetting me will not even be able to form in your brain after I'm done with you, babe. Trust me."

As he drove her to his house, she caught a glimpse of his eyes, which had taken on a slight shade of red - it was subtle, but definitely there. Her stomach aching for a meal, she was happily going to make the last night of his life the most enjoyable he'd ever experience.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his growing cock, she laughed silently. 'It's always easier with men.'