Title: Fluidic Jade
Author: bobwhite
Summary: Emily's life is forever changed when her friend Liza takes
an offer she can't refuse.
Keywords: FF, MF, mc

Fluidic Jade
By bobwhite

                          * * * * * * * * * *

Author's note: This story would not have been written without the
inspiration of a few authors who I've come to know on the Mind
Control Forum.  It has been a catalyst for my imagination.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

Liza held the necklace up in front of her face so she could examine
the glowing, green pendant more closely with her powder-blue eyes.
Its glow seemed to come from some viscous fluid within the sealed
glass (if it was glass--it felt more like quartz) vial that hung
from the leather thong.

"Why should I believe it works like you promise?" she asked the man
who was offering her the necklace--with a promise of power she
wouldn't have believe existed a few hours ago, before meeting him.

"You don't seriously doubt me--we both know that. What's really on
your mind, Liza?" the strange man asked.  And, strange he was.
Dressed in dark, earthy colors, and wearing a felt cowboy hat, he
seemed both out-of-place and right at home in the café where he and
Liza were talking.

She paused, but responded after some thought.  "It's the topic of
coin," she told him.  He was right--she didn't doubt him at all.
They'd met only about half an hour before, and it was only minutes
before she confessed to him her darkest secret--that she was in love
with a woman at work.  A straight woman.

That was a secret she hadn't even told any of her friends outside of
work--the friends who knew that she was a lesbian.

She stared at him, waiting for answers, gazing past his sunglasses
to his eyes.  She still didn't understand why, when the lenses of his
glasses weren't that dark (and were almost transparent if the light
struck them a certain way), his eyes looked colorless--'black as
coal, black as the abyss...' part of her mind warned her.

'That little voice is getting annoying,' she thought to herself,
irritated with her conscious.  Thankfully, as her meeting with
Horatio had progressed, it seemed to just fade away, a little at a
time.

"Isn't this like selling my..."

He held up a hand and she fell silent immediately.  "Don't even say
it.  I'm not this 'Devil' guy you people seem to have such a hard-on
for.  I don't buy souls.  You can't buy souls.  The very idea of it
is... (sigh)."  He stopped himself short, not wanting to get angry.
After calming himself, he continued.

"This offer is not one to be taken lightly.  This is not crappy 80's
movie where some dork sells his soul to become a hunk, fall in love
with a beautiful girl, only to get his soul back and end up with the
plane-Jane girl he knew at the beginning of the movie, but without
the four sweaters and thick glasses that covered her beauty for the
first 80 minutes."

He calmed down a little before going on.  "The cost is what it is.
The purchase is guaranteed.  I want an answer."

"So I won't turn into some monster, or explode, or..."

Laughing at her asinine concerns, he assured her, "Alright, look.
No tricks.  No grotesque transformations.  None of that.  All you
have to do is feed me a single meal, and you'll have what you want,
you'll have who you want, and your beauty will last until you finally
reach the end of your life."

Her mind, already in his capable hands (a fact of which she was
blissfully unaware), was not capable of doubting anything at all he
said--she trusted him.  But, one thing did not make sense--
skeptically, she asked, "and what do you get out of all of this?"

"Hey, I'm just a nice person.  The only thing I expect is a meal."

'That makes sense.  Men have to eat,' she thought as she put the
necklace on and slid it under her blouse.  "I hope you like steak,"
she said.

He grinned.  "Yeah, something like that."

With the necklace under her blouse, the light wasn't noticeable--or
was it an illusion, just one more trick from the Mystery Man?  But
she felt its warmth as it rested on her chest.  It didn't burn--it
was just slightly warm.

She felt its energy next.  It was almost as if the flesh under the
necklace turned into wax and gently melted a little, allowing the
pendant to sink into her body and spread its heat throughout her full
breasts, eventually diluting into her whole body...

Feeling the charm through the thin material of her top, and
verifying that it was, in fact, not melting into her, she smiled--
apparently giddy at the sensations she wasn't sure she had actually
experienced. Looking up and locking eyes with a man she'd just met
and only knew as Horatio, she smiled, aware of a little bit of the
man's power.

Under normal circumstances, she might have been startled to find
that his eyes were black.  On each eye, there was white around a
dark, black iris.  She could barely make out the pupil.  But, his
eyes were somehow reassuring to her--looking into them seemed to
help her understand that everything she wanted right now was within
her grasp.

As he filled her mind with instructions on the proper use of his
liquid jade amulet, he smiled inwardly.  Her blue eyes had taken on a
very slight tinge of green.

It had begun.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

Emily wearily made the walk from her car, into the building, and
finally to the front door of the office where she worked.
'Mondays... I have to keep reminding myself that I chose the Monday
through Friday lifestyle, and you can't have that without...
Mondays...'

Once in her cubicle, she started to drive away the morning fog of
fatigue with her first cup of joe.  After a few sips, she was logged
in, ready to start on her project.  And that's when she noticed Liza
walking into her micro-office.

"Hi Emily!  Uh, how are you today?" Liza chirped, seeming to Emily
both cheerful and a bit nervous at the same time.

"Office Space," she replied, staring back into her cup.  Around the
office, just saying the name of the movie was enough to convey a
specific mindset--one that pretty much let people know (in the
nicest way possible but under no uncertain terms) that it was not yet
time to talk about... anything.

Liza just stood there as Emily stared into her coffee, looking at
the pool of black liquid, her eyes relaxed and losing focus as she
gazed into the darkness of the brew.  It was bleak, much like her
life, she realized--a bleak wasteland like the surface of the drink,
a darkness broken only by the occasional puff of steam as it rolled
off the surface of the energy-giving elixir of all office woes.

Shaking away the depressing daydream, she looked back up, expecting
for the perky blonde who sat in the cubicle across the aisle to be
gone.  She wasn't, though; so Emily forced a weak, polite smile,
meant to encourage Liza to leave for now and come back later.  But
her eyes fell to the curves underneath her coworker's blouse, and
lingered for a few moments.

'I bet they feel nice,' a tiny part of her mind suggested.
Dismissing the thought as the random musings of a fatigued mind, she
broadened her smile, hoping that would make Liza leave for now.
Something about Liza was making her uncomfortable at the moment.

"Emily?  Honey, you OK?" Liza asked, apparently concerned at her
friend's suddenly spacey facial expression.  Deep inside, though, she
felt her panties dampen slightly--her friend was checking her out,
and probably didn't even know it.  If she had any doubts before, they
were gone now.  "Point of no return," she said, under her breath.

"Huh?"

"What? Oh, I just wanted you to come to my house for dinner tonight.
My boyfriend thought it'd be neat to have someone from work over for
dinner.  I moved here not too long ago, and you're the closest thing
to a friend I've got in this town, so..."

Holding her hand up to stop Liza's speech, she chimed, "Nonsense.
You have friends here.  Nelson and I would love to come.  What time?"

Liza smiled.  It was exactly the answer she wanted to hear.  "We'll
be eating at 6:30 or so, so come a little early.  Bring some
cabernet; we're having filet mignon. You don't have a problem with
red meat, do you, hon?"

Even though she fancied herself as something of a vegetarian
(certainly not vegan; just not hip on beef, pork, or poultry), the
meal sounded like a nice treat to Emily.  Besides, she wanted to make
her friend happy--she'd obviously gone to some trouble.

"No, no problem at all.  We'll be there around 6:00." She'd explain
it to Nelson later... although it wouldn't be necessary; getting a
man to eat a steak was about as challenging as getting him horny by
making out with Liza while he watched.

'Where did that thought come from?' her mind asked.

"Great.  I'm so happy you can come!  See ya tonight."  With that,
she spun around and left, swaying her hips noticeably as she
sauntered off.

Her swaying ass drew the Emily's attention, and she watched the
shapely rump move until Liza was out of sight.  From the back of her
mind, she heard, 'I bet that ass is so firm you could bounce a
quarter off of it...'

'Stop it, girl!  Damn, you need some,' she rationalized as the
"strange" thoughts about Liza continued to invade her psyche.

Before her first actual coffee break at 10:00 AM, she was already
running scenarios through her mind in which she "accidentally" felt
Liza's ass and/or tits.  For some reason, she simply could not let
her unusual obsession with her coworkers fun parts go.

Then, from one side of her mind, a voice rang out. 'What are you
thinking, Emily?  You can't touch her ass!  What if she thinks you're
gay?  How would you explain what happened during your exit interview?
Let it go!'  As soon as that thought broke into her head, a small
amount of fog seemed to clear--and she realized she had wasted two
hours thinking about a woman's--a WOMAN'S--beautiful ass.

So, after her coffee break (and fourth cup of java), she dove into
her work to avoid thinking about her lovely date with Liza that
night.  'It's not a date!  You're going to dinner with a friend, and
you're bringing your boyfriend!' screamed a somewhat diminished voice
from the back of her conscious.

Another part of her seemed to argue that point. 'But she is so
hot... can't blame a girl for appreciating beauty...'

Shaking her head when she realized she was fighting with herself,
she whispered, "You're not gay, Emily.  Push it out of your mind.
You're just... horny, and she's the nicest thing to look at here."
Her barely audible affirmation made perfect sense, she decided; it
had been a week or so since she and Nelson had fucked.

She knew he'd be there when she got home, and decided that she would
not take no for an answer.  She would present him with an offer he
could not refuse--her naked self, hot, wet, and ready to go.

'Girl, now you're just being dirty.  Save it for her... uh, home.
For home.  Save it for home.'

Unfortunately, that little series of daydreams took her well into
her lunch hour.  Giving up any hope of productivity for the day, she
played out the rest of the hours by staying in her cubicle,
organizing her "important" emails, and trying to figure out exactly
what it was that was making her so attracted. to the prettiest woman
in her office.

'It's not like this makes me bi or anything.  I love Nelson, and I'm
going to make him fuck me until it's time to leave for dinner at
Liza's house.  I just want to see how her tits feel in my hands.
Does she respond to touch like I do there?  I wonder how her nipples
taste...'

She realized that she'd strayed off track again. 'Shit, woman, it
sounds like you've got a crush on her!' She smiled at the implication
--it's been awhile since she'd had a crush--and it was several
minutes before her mind reminded her, again, that she was straight.

Forcing herself to think of something besides Liza's tits, she
realized that she could, if she were on her knees in front of Liza,
gently lift the skirt up... and, after licking the panties that
covered her pubic mound for just a moment or two, she could raise her
head up and grip the tip of the underwear with her upper front teeth,
and...

'Oh my God, what am I thinking?  Damn, girl, you've got to get some!
You're fantasizing about fucking your... uh, your fucking girlfriend
at work!' her mind screamed.  But images of her on herself knees in
front of Liza, especially if they were both naked, were too hot to
completely drive out of her mind.  In fact, there was only one way to
she knew to exercise the Sapphic images from her daydreams.

But, that would have to wait till she got home.  Looking at the time
on her computer, she realized it was, in fact, time to go.  'Lucky
break, that,' her relieved conscious told her.  It was getting harder
and harder to fight away images of her coworker.

Needing at least a quick, tactile fix before going home, and looking
around to make sure nobody was watching, she quickly reached up and
squeezed her perky breasts, pinching each already-rock-hard nipple
through her shirt and bra with as much force as she could take.  Her
body trembled a bit--it was not an orgasm, but it was definitely on
the right track to one--and she knew she was wetter than she'd been
in awhile.

"Nelson is going to eat out before dinner tonight," she giggled to
her self, giddy with the thrill of feeling herself up at work.  As
she logged out for the day, picked up her keys, and headed for the
door--relieved that the lesbian fantasies, which seemed both foreign
and delightful to her mind, had subsided.

The relief was short-lived.  She saw Liza from behind, standing near
the door, and all of the desire she had fought so hard to suppress
flooded back as Emily caught a great view of her backside.  Because
the sunset shone through the glass door this time of year, the
hourglass silhouette Liza possessed was accentuated.

Liza dropped her car keys, and she bent at the waste to pick them
up.  Emily could not take her eyes off that perfect ass... it just
seemed so... inviting?  Shaking her head, Emily chastised herself.
'Get a grip, you're only 20 minutes from home.  You're just a little
horny.  Nelson can take care of that--remember, you don't like
girls.'  Gathering her composure, she walked up to Liza just as she
stood up and turned around.

They collided softly... and Emily brushed her breasts against
Liza's, accidentally.  At least, that was the story she'd stick to if
questioned.  Emily stifled a moan as an electric current of sexual
energy shot through her nipples and straight into her groin.  Smiling
politely, she told her friend she'd see her later that evening, and
hurried out the door, towards her car.

Mulling over her "accidental" contact with Liza, Emily verbally
reassured herself that all would be fine in a few minutes.  "Yeah,
'accidentally rubbed my tits on you'--you're lucky she didn't ask
you about it. Damn, girl, get home now or you're not going to make it
without pulling over!' she thought as she hurried down the road that
led to her house.

All Liza could think was, 'I felt her nipples.  They're harder than
steel... she's mine.'

                          * * * * * * * * * *

When Emily got home, she was relieved to see her boyfriend's car in
the driveway.  "So he did remember to come by to clean out the pool,"
she said out loud.

'He has no idea how good his decision to be her right now was.  But
he will... I have to find him.'

She dropped her jacket, purse, keys, and everything else she carried
by the front door.  "Nelson?  Get cleaned up--we have a date tonight
with Liza from work."  She hoped he would object, or something--she
needed to follow his voice.

She would take him, wherever he was.

"A date with a cutie from work?  Gee, Emily, I thought you said you
didn't..."

He was on the back patio, hollering through the sliding door that
led to the pool. 'I guess it's going to be an outdoor afternooner,'
she realized.  She stripped as she walked through the house, noting
how wet her panties had become as she stepped out of them... and onto
the patio.  His back was to her--he was cleaning the pool, after all
--and she knew the surprise he was about to get would be nice.

"Oh honey, can you help me with something real quick?" she pined in
a mildly whiney voice.

"Baby, I'm busy with the..." he began.  But, when he turned around,
he stopped.

There, in front of him, naked on the patio, was his beautiful wife--
using one hand to rub her clit, and the other to beckon him to her.
He was taken by surprise, alright--as his dick began to swell, he
examined his wife closely.  Her breasts weren't too big, but did have
enough roundness to them to make them giggle as the hand she'd been
using on her pussy became more animated.

She brought both hands up to her tits and squeezed them playfully,
shaking them a bit--she was holding them so that the nipples were
just barely visible, being squeezed in the "V" between the
outstretched index and middle fingers of both hands.

She then seductively brought her hands down her sides, and onto her
thighs--which meant she had to bend over.  As she did, she turned so
that her ass was in his direction.  She looked like a professional
stripper.  Every move she made dripped with raw sensuality, and
Nelson was helpless to resist.

Not that he would try.

He looked, and could see her need glistening in the sun.  As he
approached, she stood up, and took a few steps toward him.  When she
was within arm's reach, he grabbed her and pulled her in for a hard,
passionate kiss.

They went over to the nearest piece of furniture in front of the
pool, and over the course of an hour, he took her twice.  It'd been
some time since he was able to do that, but there was a strange aura
about her today--she just oozed sex, and he fed off of it.

Once they're recovered somewhat, they both got cleaned up for the
dinner they were going to.  He took his in the smaller bathroom
downstairs, and basked in the smell of his wife as the steam
amplified the aroma that radiated from his still-erect cock.  After a
few minutes, though, he figured he'd better hurry up.  So, grabbing
the soap and a washrag, he began to clean himself.

Emily, in the bathroom upstairs, was trying desperately to get off.
The sex had been good--great, even--but, for the first time ever,
she had to fake orgasms with Nelson.  In fact, she hadn't cum at all,
which was really bizarre.

'Hopefully, the wine I bought for tonight will lube me up for
another go,' she wistfully thought.  Suddenly, her pace seemed to
quicken, and erotic images began to flash before her eyes--pictures
of all kinds of men and women in various positions whizzed by.  When
she finally came, she had to bite her lower lip from yelping out loud
--the release was so tremendous, though, that she actually screamed
with her mouth closed.

The last image she saw was a well-endowed blonde wearing a black,
leather... something, that... 'no, don't go away...' her conscious
pined as the image faded.  But it was too late.

Wearily and shaking, she got out of the tub and dried off.  There
was just enough time to get ready for dinner.

Once they arrived, the men went to the deck, where Liza's boyfriend--
apparently named Horatio--had already fired up the charcoal.  She
handed the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to Liza, who was wearing a
green dress that accentuated every sexy curve of her body--and to
Emily, almost every curve on that body was sexy.

"Ah, let 'em play with the fire in the back yard.  Boys will be
boys," Liza musically opined before taking the bottle to the kitchen
to chill.

As she turned, Emily could have sworn she saw a tiny bit of bra
strap peaking out through the neckline of the dress.  It was emerald,
like the dress.  'Matching underwear... I wonder if the panties are
the same color... it's certainly her color.  I wouldn't mind taking a
peak under that dress,' she mused, licking her lips.

Blushing with that last thought, she regained her composure and
followed Liza into the kitchen.  'Get it under control, girl.  You'll
get another chance to... uh, release your tension... tonight.  Stop
thinking about sliding your fingers into her slick cunt.'

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when that last thought hit
her.  'Stop it!  What's wrong with you, Emily?' she wondered.

The dinner was about as fun as Nelson and Emily had figured it might
be--hanging around people from work after work was nice, but about
an hour or so after dinner, the conversation had slowly died.

At about 8:30 or so, Horatio looked at Nelson and announced, "Hey,
it's Blues against Flyers tonight.  Wanna go to the den and let the
ladies... do whatever it is they do when they go pee together in
restaurants?"

Nelson thought it was a good idea--he liked hockey, and this guy
was pretty funny throughout dinner.  After grabbing a flask of
whiskey, they headed for the den behind the main living room.  Nelson
never thought it was odd that they shut the door; he was just happy
to be watching the game.  A few minutes later, Liza brought in an ice
pail containing several Coronas and a small dish of sliced lime.  She
shut the door on the way out, too.

After a few tense minutes of small talk--well, tense for Liza,
anyway--she swallowed her courage and started implementing the
intricate plan she'd developed between tasks at work.  As Emily
complained about how slow some IT guy was at work, she concentrated
on the green vial hanging at her chest.  She felt the familiar warmth
and melting sensations grip her again, and her vision of the room
took on a slightly dark-greenish hue.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

"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.'

                          * * * * * * * * * *

(c) 2004, bobwhite.  All rights reserved.  All wrongs also reserved.