Saturday, August 3, 2013

Brainy Teen (chapter 18)

In her bedroom, Wendy took twenty pictures of herself in sexy lingerie using the high resolution camera of her smartphone. She checked every picture and deleted it if it didn't look good enough before retaking the picture again. Each image was more erotic than the last, going from decent to fully explicit.

Wendy initially had been reluctant to take any photos of herself in "sexy clothing", as Sarah had requested. She had heard stories of embarrassing photos being circulated around digital space, and she was not interested in potentially being in any of them. But then she reminded herself that she could trust Sarah--so she didn't need to worry about these photos getting spread around--and that she really did owe Sarah, who had done so much for her and never asked much in return.  And considering she was "officially" Sarah's lesbian girlfriend, Sarah would naturally be entitled to some photos of her, maybe even some of a risqué nature.

Even though Sarah had not specifically requested anything obscene, once Wendy had begun, her experience with porn, as well as implanted desires to expose herself to other girls, started to color her judgment.  She found irresistible the impulse to produce pornography herself, of herself. 

There was a particular pleasure in knowing it was Sarah, who was going to be looking at her. She did, after all, like Sarah...a lot...and Wendy wanted to appeal to her.  Plus, once Wendy got started, it occurred to her that this was an opportunity to counter Lauren's attempts to steal Sarah away.  Wendy felt the need to grab Sarah's attention, to keep Sarah's interest focused...on her...so why not give Sarah a little more than she had asked for?  Why not make these photos...hot? 

Despite Wendy's confidence that Sarah would not broadcast these photos far and wide, it had crossed Wendy's mind that Sarah might show them to Lauren.  That would be okay.  That would further her goal.  Let Lauren see what she was missing out on. 

Wendy had only taken particular notice of Lauren shortly after Wendy had made friends with Sarah, after Wendy witnessed Lauren coming on to Daniel, and then was apprised of the girl's adversarial intentions by Sarah and, later, by Cynthia.  Wendy's original alarm was, of course, that Lauren was going to steal Daniel away from her.  When Lauren succeeded, then Wendy's goal became to win him back from her.  While that was still a driving motivation for Wendy, she thought less about it every day. Instead, now Wendy worried at least as much about Lauren stealing away Madelynn and Sarah from her. 

Wendy had, unsurprisingly, harbored anxiety and perplexity about Lauren, and some occasional feelings of enmity, but Wendy had never been one to carry a grudge, and, despite Lauren's competitive personality, Wendy had never really disliked her. 

Wendy had, in fact, from the beginning thought Lauren was quite cute, and had soon even found herself attracted to the Latina beauty.  She would have preferred to be friends rather than enemies with Lauren all along.

Now Wendy felt she knew and understood Lauren better, had a plan to deal with her, and was centering herself on making Lauren love her.  Whatever animosity Wendy previously had for Lauren was fading away, overshadowed and replaced by feelings of a decidedly more amorous nature.

Wendy's attraction to Lauren had started once Sarah had begun to pull Wendy into looking at girls with a lesbian perspective.  Lauren had been, in fact, one of the first girls for whom Wendy had felt lesbian interest.  It had escalated the night she had seen Lauren's lascivious display of herself at Rebecca's for Daniel...and for her, Wendy, as well, evident from the way Lauren had kept looking, smiling, and even winking at her during the dueling performances. 

Since then those feelings for Lauren had been blossoming, especially after having danced with her and kissed her and done...other...things...with her at the nightclub.  Something about Lauren had gotten under her skin, and Wendy wanted more of her.  She felt fascinated by and a little bit obsessed with the sexy teen, and now Wendy could hardly stop thinking about her.

Wendy assumed it was because Lauren was, after all, a babe, and Wendy was trying to look at hot girls in general like a lesbian would, and because she was focusing on Lauren specifically so much now, because she had to.  There was definitely truth to those assumptions, but what she did not know was that her increasing desire and interest in Lauren was also implanted and amplified by the subliminals aimed at her in various locations and hidden in the lesbian media Sarah had directed her to watch recently, as well as by Sarah's other stealthy manipulations.

Wendy was still wary of Lauren, but gradually she was dropping her guard...despite the evidence that she shouldn't and despite her intention not to.

As Wendy got into taking these photos of herself, she felt like letting loose and she made each one steamier than the last.  Like a porn shoot, she thought for the first time.  It wasn't as if these photos were going to go public...so why not?........And, she rationalized, even if they did, it wouldn't be the first time she had showed her body off in public. The performance at Rebecca's beach house hadn't been that long ago...and it hadn't been so bad. She had actually enjoyed it. Taking these photos was like the performance, except one frame at a time. And she was, to be honest, enjoying this almost as much as she had the performance.

This photo session, Wendy reflected, must be a little like the ones for the porn magazines with which she was now so familiar.  It may be just her, a one-girl crew, but she could make the result come pretty close to the real thing, she thought. It did cross her mind, more than once, what it might be like if this were an actual pro shoot, with a photo crew and a glossy publication to end up in...and her at the center of attention.

Through repeated exposure--Sarah having started pushing "adult" all-girl material on her some weeks previously and then having continually made more available to her--Wendy had become not just comfortable with porn and its models and actresses, but enamored as well.  Though Sarah could plainly see Wendy's interest, and intended to continue exploiting it--in even more insidious, infective, and varied ways in the future--even Sarah did not fully realize how fascinated Wendy was, mostly because Wendy tried, somewhat ineffectively, not to let on.

It was somewhat of a love-hate relationship Wendy had with lesbian porn.  The hate part came from the guilt.  She knew that, as a hetero girl, she shouldn't like watching girls and women sensually displayed, nor the lewd acts they committed together; all that just shouldn't interest her.  Plus, she knew her parents would be appalled if they knew, as they had taught her that all kinds of porn were evil and debasing and no good person would ever touch any of it.  Her mother in particular would be aghast if she ever discovered her daughter's clandestine habit...though Wendy had done a good job of hiding it from Mom and others; only Sarah--and now Madelynn--knew, she thought.  

But...more than even she realized, Wendy had come to embrace and enjoy lesbian porn and was, despite the guilt--a diminishing guilt--gradually accepting her feelings about porn and its female players

Wendy was coming to view female porn models and stars as ideals of femininity and beauty.  She liked so many of them.  Their photos and films drew her in.  Several of them had looks and personalities that particularly appealed to her and Wendy had come to have favorites.  Some of them, in fact, she simply loved and eagerly anticipated seeing more of.  She imagined what it would be like to meet some of them.  And she fantasized about them romantically...and sexually...sometimes...well, more than sometimes...

But she was supposed to...so it was okay... 

Samantha was one who had popped up in her fantasies...more than once.  Wendy had seen her--with unabashed fascination--in those DVD's about lesbian lovemaking...and in that magazine...and now even in person, at the nightclub, though from afar. That was...that was really cool. Wendy felt like she almost already knew Samantha.  Was it possible that they could actually...meet...sometime?

Wendy was curious about what other lesbian porn might be out there.  What other variations of lesbian-themed material existed?  in DVD's?  and magazine and things like that?  How about books...novels...stories...?  What other actresses and models did she not know about yet?  And what about the internet?   She had not searched it extensively yet for porn, only really as Sarah had directed her; what more did it have to offer?

She had an appetite now...and she was open to explore...and taste more forbidden fruit...

Wendy justified herself on two grounds.  First, this pastime helped her see things from a lesbian's perspective--and feel like a lesbian--which was one of her main goals right now.  She had to be more of a lesbian to win Madelynn and Lauren.  Oh, and eventually Daniel, as well...of course...  It was in a good cause, ultimately, she maintained. 

Second, she had started telling herself that lesbian sex wasn't all that immoral and therefore watching it performed in porn, and watching it's players, couldn't be that bad either.  Wendy was starting to feel that lesbian sex was not anything like hetero sex...and neither was the porn depicting lesbian women anything like nasty hetero porn.  It wasn't like she was looking at sex between men and women, which in Wendy's mind was what "true" or "bad" porn was; no, girl-with-girl porn was different... Okay, it was sinful...probably...but...it wasn't very sinful, not like the hetero stuff.  

So while rejecting hetero porn as degrading and repulsive, she told herself that lesbian porn was artistic and emotionally genuine in ways hetero porn was not.  In fact, lesbian porn was so often just nice and sweet and beautiful.  It was, well, kind of...great... 

Plus, it was just a fantasy, Wendy told herself; and dwelling on it a little did no damage in real life.

The jump from that perspective to actually creating a bit of porn, like she now was doing, was not a big one for Wendy.

Even though Sarah had had Wendy practice emulating porn women and girls on various occasions, before now Wendy hadn't imagined she could really be like them that much. But now...now, having taken these photos in her bedroom, she was kind of like one, it was dawning on her; no, not like, she was one right now. She was one of them.

Though Wendy found suppressed delight in that realization, she still did not really understand quite the door she was opening.  Even though she thought this was for private consumption, or semi-public viewing at the most, she nevertheless was taking a step--perhaps a baby step, but a step just the same--into the world of porn as an active player.  This was somewhat different from her first venture into the world of ribald exposure, her "big performance" with Sarah; certainly that was more public and extreme, but this day's product was more permanent.  It would be recorded ever after, lasting evidence of a certain disposition, much like a tattoo.

This was a door which, once opened, could prove difficult to close...even if she were inclined to try.  Having crossed this line, it would not take much to lure her to venture into further modeling and other involvement...such as stripping again...and acting....  Sarah would not fail to provide more opportunities and encouragement for Wendy, as she had also started to do for Madelynn, as well, through Lauren and Elena.

One after another, the photos Wendy was producing were good. They showed a pretty, sexy, and obviously willing teen girl, hair in cute unbraided pigtails, in various stages of display.  The camera couldn't lie; she was hot. She reflected that if she saw herself, posing like this, in a magazine, she'd get off...to herself. She would like a girl like herself, would be intrigued.

Sarah will be, too...Lauren, too, if she sees them, which Wendy was now hoping would be the case. Nice job, Wendy, she thought.

Not once did Wendy question the decency of her project. Her once-keen sense of modesty, though still hypothetically intact, was now, in a practical sense, well on it's way to decadent ruin.  Part of it did yet survive, certainly, and tried to assert itself from time to time, but it was now usually quite weak; and the bombardments with which it, along with her other moral values, was being so insidiously assaulted on a daily basis--and which would feature a special blitz coming her way soon at the home of Sarah's mother--would eventually leave her modesty and her other morals perfectly, exquisitely demolished.

Only two months ago it was not so.  Over her young lifetime, Wendy's parents--more Mom than Dad, as the latter had been absent so much with work--had taught her a variety of wholesome, traditional values, and Wendy had subscribed to them. They included the beliefs that any premarital sex, with anyone, was wrong and sinful; that a girl should keep herself covered up modestly and avoid overt sexuality; that she ought to speak, think, and act with self-control and good taste at all times, especially in public; that one ought to be faithful to one's mate and not flit among various romantic relationships capriciously; and that a girl would be happiest and safest by complying with such principles. Wendy knew that a girl who disregarded them was in danger of being a slut, and a slut, she understood, was a debauched, wretched type of person; becoming one, or even getting the reputation of being one, would be a terrible fate, to be avoided at all costs.

Mom had also instilled into her the certainty that homosexuality was a perversion, a dark, unnatural, sick, and forbidden way.  A normal girl would never want to be a lesbian, but instead would surely want marriage and a family with a man, in due time...and, perhaps, a nice boyfriend in the meantime.

Wendy had previously regarded girls who fell into either category, slut or lesbian, with a small part of pity, and a large part of aversion.  They were girls to stay away from, a bad influence, a different breed from herself, with whom she had nothing in common and with whom she had no interest in mixing socially.  While personally not really acquainted with slutty girls before Sarah came along, Wendy had been around some of them at school, or at least she assumed they were like that from the way they dressed, or the crude words they used, or the way they carried on with boys.  As for lesbians, she had neither known any of them nor had she seen any in person, as she supposed; they were a totally abstract concept to her, alien, forbidden, possibly dangerous, certainly to be avoided, not even to be thought about. 

Weeks of subversion had divided, softened, and reshaped Wendy's mind and values.  She was conflicted and pulled by the new, sexually loose subconscious girl hiding within her, as well as by the choices she had made, the new friends she had spent time with, the forbidden pleasures she had experienced, and the new tastes she was developing, under Sarah's auspices.  As she attempted to cope with her betrayal of her original values and with her new inclinations, and to either deny or justify the reality of what she was doing, where she was headed, and what she was becoming, her conscience, though yet at times active and vocal, had been twisted and torn.

Some of her old moral standards adhered tenaciously to her core identity, and she fought to retain them as at least her "official" stance, even though her thoughts and actions might violate them; while others had yielded more easily and earlier to corrosion, such as those relating to modesty and pornography.

The conflicts within her led to frequent internal debates and inconsistent application of her new, deformed values, such as they were. Her moral principles were in a state of flux and seemed to change from one day or even one moment to another. 

One inconsistency within Wendy was her new outlook that other girls should not be held to the same lofty sexual mores she held for herself.  She still intellectually recognized lesbian behavior as being deviant, and not acceptable or appropriate, maybe even sinful, for a nice, normal, hetero girl like her.  She wanted no part of being a slut herself, nor did she consciously want to be a lesbian.  She did not believe she at heart was one, and she thought she could go back to a hetero life at the right time.  For herself, as a straight girl with high principles, it wasn't right to be involved in lesbianism or to be promiscuous.

But even that stance had been softening, in practice.  She now believed that, while usually such behavior wasn't right for nice girls like herself, certain exceptions were permissible, in certain situations, in exigent circumstances.  She told herself that she was dabbling in lesbianism and lowering her standards of behavior only because she had to...she had no alternative...it wasn't really who she was...and it was just temporary...she did not intend to toy with it any longer than was necessary, and, yes, she did feel guilty indulging in it the way she had...although less so with every day

There were a lot of exceptions for Wendy these days, many of them with a high degree of abandonment of her theoretical values. Her current risqué picture-taking episode was a prime example of that.

However, while Wendy didn't want to be a lesbian or a slut, and thought she shouldn't want to be, nevertheless she now believed that wasn't necessarily true for all girls and women. Now she felt it wasn't so bad at all if other girls chose to be lesbian or slutty...for them, maybe it was fine. She did not mind other girls being like that now.  At all.  Let them, if they want to be, was her current more-than-tolerant attitude.

Her brainwashing was a big part of the reason for the shift in her view of such girls, but it also came from her experiences with them.  She now not only knew girls like that, but she hung out with them every day.  All of her friends now were this type.  She was comfortable with them, she liked them, and she had been intimate with them. 

She was now like them.  She had started to dress and think and act like them.  In others words, they were no longer foreign.  She was an insider now.

In fact, Wendy secretly loved other girls being lesbians and slutty.  Finding out that a girl was a lesbian, or becoming one, sent a covert delight through her.  Buried within herself was an actual preference for the company of slutty lesbian girls, to that of "good" girls--or "prudes", as Sarah and her clique referred to them, and as Wendy was staring to think of them, as well--not to mention to that of any kind of boy.

That included Daniel, although Wendy did not realize it.  Her regard for him had morphed, so subtly that she had not noticed.  Unrecognized consciously by Wendy, the crush she once had for him was over and had been replaced by crushes, of greater magnitude, first for Sarah and now a quickly developing one for Lauren, as well as brewing crushes for Madelynn and Cynthia, as well.   The only emotion she felt now for Daniel was the same general, unconscious disdain, or disinterest at best, which she now felt for all boys.  Just the same, he still did yet personify in Wendy's mind her goal of getting a boyfriend and thereby "being normal".

But she was anything but "normal" now.  Everything about Wendy's recent conduct proclaimed to herself and others that she now was a lesbian, and headed toward being a slutty one at that. The evidence was mounting and ever more difficult for her conscience to deny. Despite thinking of herself as a straight and decent girl with good and proper goals who was merely acting a role for a worthy purpose, and only temporarily, the reality was that she now checked out cute girls routinely, partook regularly of lesbian porn, hung out with lesbians and loose girls and only with such, was comfortable with and felt a kinship to them, was conversant with their ways, and was thinking and feeling like one.  She had performed lesbian sex publically; had made out or had sex of one kind or another with six different girls; had intentions to seduce three specific girls; had an increasing collection of lesbian girlfriend relationships, of various kinds--one "official", "steady", and public; one official and secret; and others in stages of development--; was in the process of transforming her platonic friendship with her long-time best friend into a purely lesbian sexual and romantic relationship, one which both had intended to be temporary but which both now wanted to be long-standing; and had yielded to every invitation to girl-on-girl intimacy presented to her thus far. She had committed herself to not only persist in this kind of behavior for an indefinite time, but to "step it up" and to start initiating it.  And, despite her good-girl self-concept and the associated guilty anxiety about it all, she was enjoying herself.

Another inconsistency within Wendy now was her view of lesbian sex in contrast to hetero sex. Wendy still viewed extramarital hetero sex as the weighty "sexual sin" which her mother had warned her to avoid...but lesbian acts, on the other hand, were in a different category in her mind now.  She now felt that lesbian acts were not intrinsically that "bad", not nearly as wrong as between man and woman.  How could lesbian sex be that bad, Wendy reasoned, if it was just between two girls?  Yes, it was wrong, kind of sinful, she herself really shouldn't do it...but...it didn't feel so bad.  Actually...it felt so good...it was really kind of...beautiful....

So. while Wendy was cognitively resistant...more or less...at least some of the time...and she retained a tenacious degree of her original disdain and, even, horror about the possibility of she, herself, truly becoming a lesbian and a slut, there was now some flexibility regarding that, even in her conscious mind.  The issue of what she wanted to be and be like was unsettled, or not as settled as she wanted it to be and thought it was. 

But one thing was quite settled:  Wendy was entirely comfortable now with other girls and women being lesbians and slutty.

Mary, Wendy's mother, picked out a black evening dress from the closet. It was a modest, long-sleeved dress that wasn't too revealing, but still made her feminine curves stand out in an appealing way. Despite her age of forty and the plain simplicity of her style, Mary was still attractive. She worked out regularly and maintained her figure well, being able to retain her hour-glass figure. Even though Mary told herself she was doing it mainly for health reasons, she wished her husband was home more often to appreciate it.

Though she had a sizeable cosmetic collection, a gift from an acquaintance a few years back, she hardly ever wore any makeup, reserving it for the rare special social event, and even then only used just a very light touch of it. She favored natural looks and didn't like over-reliance on beauty products.

However, her daughter's heavy use of makeup lately--and how attractive it had made Wendy--had been playing on Mary's mind, even though she had spoken against it to Wendy. Her girl was becoming a real beauty in front of her eyes, and her use of makeup had no doubt been part of it. As a result, Mary had started to try to imagine herself with a heavier use, as well, but had been reluctant to give her daughter a bad example that might reinforce her questionable direction of late; and besides, that just wasn't her...that just wasn't Mary Love-Livingston.

After looking at herself in the mirror, Mary sighed. For tonight, despite her misgivings, she again entertained the idea of putting on more makeup than she usually did for social occasions. She would, after all, be among the rich--and glamorous, probably--and she did want to fit in, as much as she could. But her conservative side nevertheless finally prevailed, as always, and she opted not to, electing instead to stick with a touch of mascara, as well as lip gloss, which, as her one concession to emulating Wendy, she had decided to try again after seeing her daughter using it almost on a daily basis for the past month.

Mary's conservative preferences extended to her clothing and accessories. The heels of her shoes were almost never above one inch. The highest was only two inches and she rarely wore them. She owned a few items of form-fitting, sexy clothing from her younger days, which she hardly ever wore even back then, but, other than that, everything she owned was conservative, because she preferred modesty and discreteness.  Her sparse jewelry collection included a few bracelets, some clip-on earrings, and a few necklaces, one of which was a strand of small pearls passed down from her mother and grandmother. 

Mary decided the pearl heirloom would be just the right touch, understated yet classic, to complement her dress.  She fastened it around her neck, then debated on earrings before deciding against them.  Mary and earrings did not get along.  She disliked the feeling of the clip-on earrings she had, and she could not wear standard earrings as she had never had her ears pierced. 

Mary's mother had taught her that tattoos and piercings--even of the ears--were a defacement of one's God-given body. Mary had subscribed to that notion and had tried to pass it on to Wendy.  She and Wendy had agreed some years ago that if Wendy eventually elected to get her ears pierced she would wait until she was at least 18 before doing so.

Those reflections brought to Mary's mind one item she was intent on bringing to the attention of Sarah's mother tonight.  For the past few weeks, Mary had seen Wendy wearing earrings, given to her, as so many other items, by Sarah, and they weren't clip-ons.  That meant she had had her ears pierced somewhere, and Mary suspected Sarah was involved.  Mary realized that people like the Powers might not share her values about ear piercing, but it was Mary's right as a mother to have a say on such things for her daughter. 

And that was just one of several similar things on Mary's mind about changes in Wendy's appearance and deportment that had concerned her since Wendy had started keeping company with Sarah.  Plus, Mary had the sneaky feeling there was more going on behind her back.  She had to get to the bottom of it, to protect her daughter.

As she finished that line of thought, Mary glanced down at her hands. She was proud of how smooth and feminine they were. Her nails were not short, at an attractive yet practical medium length.  She had seen them longer on other women, of course, and admired them, but again, that just wasn't her.

Fingernail polish was not her style, either. Yes, occasionally she tried a clear gloss, but it had been years since she had ventured to apply a colored polish. Even then, she had never thought a bright color was appropriate for a mother of two; maybe on younger women and girls, it might work, but anything too bold sent the wrong message, in her opinion.

Regardless, Mary felt a bit of pride for not using too many cosmetics on herself. Her belief was that she looked fine already without makeup. Mary was fairly confident about herself, and believed that using too much makeup would only hide her natural beauty. Many women her age didn't maintain the same figure that she did, for which she worked hard through a regular exercising regimen. For them, using excessive makeup was just a way to compensate for their deficits, in her opinion. However, Mary would never consciously admit that she was also afraid of putting on too much makeup and of the image it might project.

While stroking her lightly tanned face, Mary smiled at her own image. Reaching towards the back of her head, she grabbed a mass of her honey-blond hair and tied it into a pony tail, one of the few hairstyles with which she felt comfortable that was neither too plain nor too flamboyant.

It had been over a year since she had been to a dinner party. In the past few years, due to her husband's overseas work and busy schedule, she could only attend social gatherings alone, or with friends or her daughters. It was a bit awkward without the company of her husband. Even though the dinner invitation from Mrs. Powers wasn't really formal, Mary wished her husband could accompany her. In fact, she harbored a slight bit of resentment toward him for leaving her alone so often, both in social situations and at home.

"Honey, are you ready?" asked Mary from Wendy's open bedroom door.

Wendy placed the tube of lipstick down before turning away from the vanity at which she was sitting to face her mom and spoke through glossy fuchsia lips, "I'm ready, Mom."

Mary was surprised. Wendy's appearance in the gorgeous dress, make-up, and accoutrements she wore was stunning. Mary had not quite realized, before this moment, how pretty Wendy was becoming, and could be. But there was more. Wendy was...sensual. Mary could not bring herself to apply the world "sexy" to her own daughter, though that was clearly her impression, if not "slutty". And it was the dress, more than anything else, which created that impression.

"When did you get this dress?"  More than the stated question was implied by the tone in Mary's voice:  What are you doingwearing this dress?   Isn't it too flashy?  Shouldn't it hide more?    What's with the heavy makeup?  Isn't all this a bit much for a dinner?  Much of Mary's intended message, however, was lost on Wendy, who had been, and still was, preoccupied with her own beautiful--and sexy--reflection in the mirror. 

"Sarah gave it to me as a gift about a week ago. It looks nice on me, doesn't it?" Wendy fluttered her eyelashes, which were teased with black mascara. The silver and purple eye shadow sparkled on her eyelids. It was a playful gesture, but with a subconscious flirtatious intent. Cynthia's suggestions on the day before had gained a small foothold in Wendy's mind.

An impulse flashed through Wendy, not as a verbal thought but, rather, as a raw feelingShow her your body...tease her...make her look...make her desire you.

Wendy arose and spun around, showing off her full length halter dress to her mother. Does she like me... like this? she whispered to herself in the back of her mind.  Subconsciously, beyond the range of her cognizant thoughts, she answered herself: Yes...she must...I'm beautiful...and desirable...to women.  Look at me...watch my body...want me....The silver sequins glittered as if the whole dress was a seamless mirror. The V-shaped neckline revealed an eye-catching amount of Wendy's cleavage. Her legs were briefly revealed by the side slit on the skirt. She was wearing glittery silver strappy high heel sandals.

Her hair was done in a fishtail braid. She hadn't worn the Sapphic necklace because it would be visible to her mother due to the low neckline of the dress, keeping it instead in her handbag, but she was decked with silver and onyx jewelry, also given to her by Sarah. 

The sentiment intensified that there was something about Wendy's whole outfit that didn't feel right to Mary. It was too garish for the occasion, in her opinion, and definitely not what Mary would call modest. Wendy had never dressed like this for social occasions before.

At first, Mary hadn't been as worried about Wendy's recent changes in her choice of dress and looks and friends, partly because Wendy had still kept her grades up--or so Mary thought--and partly because Wendy's modesty level, to begin with, at least what Wendy had allowed her mom to see, seemed to Mary to be more or less mainstream for teenage girls. Also, Mary had to admit her daughter had started to look quite pretty, and Mary had nothing against that, per se; in fact, she was glad to see the beauty she had always been confident was somewhere inside her daughter finally start to bloom forth. She was even happy that her daughter was making new friends.  She had met Sarah, and she seemed like a nice girl, albeit an extraordinarily beautiful one. But over the last couple of weeks, Mary had become more concerned.  For one thing, she had become aware that Wendy was getting into more daring attire than she had thought.  Mary had known that Sarah had treated Wendy to some "fashionable" clothes, but she had recently discovered some surprising things--some sheer bras and panties, two tube tops, silver hot pants, and a miniskirt--in the laundry and while putting things away in Wendy's room.

Still, Mary had no idea of the full extent of what Wendy had, all of it from Sarah--all the short skirts, hot pants, heels, hose, tube tops, halter tops, tank tops, tight, shiny, low-cut tee-shirts, see-through blouses, sundresses, mini-dresses, sexy nightwear, and lots of scanty underwear and other slinky lingerie, much of it sheer and/or made of satin.  A lot of her new wardrobe she had not yet worn.

Wendy had been fairly careful about what she would leave out and let her mom see her wearing; and she made sure to hide certain things--dildos, DVD's, magazines, Twin Venus Club items, and most of her more risqué apparel--in places she thought Mom was unlikely to explore.  But lately she had been getting a little more careless about it.

While Mary wasn't thrilled with her daughter's new taste in fashion, she was even more worried about it being a symptom of a worse problem.  She would speculate, Is my daughter hanging around with bad people?  Has she been getting involved with boys? Has my daughter been getting into drugs, or drinking? Is she doing this to fit in because of peer pressure? Is Sarah really as good of a person as my daughter describes her to be?

Adding to Mary's suspicions were some changes in Wendy's behavior of late...such as, she no longer came directly home from school nearly as regularly as she used to; sometimes she would come home seemingly preoccupied or flustered; she spent a lot more time at friends' houses than she ever had before, and that had included some sleepovers, which she had never done in the past; and there were nights when she stayed out much later than she ever had previously.  On one of those occasions, Mary thought she detected Wendy stagger or slur a bit when she came home, although that could have been due to the girl simply being tired. 

Wendy also was spending more time in her bedroom and keeping the door closed much more now.  Wendy often had the volume on her stereo turned up more than she used to, her musical tastes had apparently migrated away from the classical music she used to prefer to more of what Mary considered "wild" music, and there were new, odd, muffled sounds, which Mary couldn't quite place, that escaped Wendy's room fairly regularly.  As for her cell phone usage, whereas Wendy used to just occasionally talk with Madelynn, and only for a few minutes at a time, or to call home as needed, now, as far as Mary could tell, Wendy talked for longer periods and with a greater variety of people. 

Plus, Wendy used to spend most of her evenings doing homework, often at the kitchen table, but that was now an ever-rarer event.  Nevertheless, it seemed that Wendy was staying up late more consistently.

Mary was also disturbed by what she had heard about Wendy's best friend Madelynn, whom Mary had not seen for a couple of months.  One of Mary's acquaintances at church who also knew Madelynn's family had told Mary that Madelynn had "gone Goth", whatever that meant--it didn't sound good--and that her mother Erin was considering moving away to remove the girl from bad influences.

The final straw for Mary were the recent rumors she had heard about Wendy's school and Sarah's family.  The reports included sex in the hallways and lesbian cliques at the school, wild parties, and unusual human experiments and sundry clandestine activities at the company in which Sarah's parents were leading executives.  Mary didn't buy the bulk of these rumors--they were just too unbelievable--but still she wondered if there wasn't some bit of truth to them and whether Wendy was being drawn in to anything unseemly.

Given all this, Mary couldn't stop thinking about her daughter with concern.

Mary had expressed several, if not all, of her concerns to her daughter before, but all of Wendy's responses were vague and evasive, and always cast herself and Sarah and Madelynn and their doings in a positive light--there was nothing wrong, everything was fine.  And, Mary realized, much of Wendy's new behavior could simply be explained by her breaking out of her shell and broadening her horizons like teenagers do, with nothing too sinister going on. 

Wendy had always been an honest girl and Mary used to be confident that Wendy wouldn't lie to her.  But Mary had a sinking feeling that there was more to what was going on than Wendy was admitting. 

As Mary stood in Wendy's doorway, she was on the point of giving further voice to her reservations about Wendy's dress and makeup this evening, and maybe throw in something about Wendy's changes of late generally, but she thought better about it.  She had already let Wendy know, on several occasions, how she felt about Wendy's new direction.  Maybe now was not the best time for more of the same; she didn't want to spoil the evening for the daughter she loved. 

The dinner would be a good opportunity for Mary to address her concerns, she felt. She hoped that something constructive would come out of it. Surely, a person like Mrs. Powers would be just as worried about the moral and social direction of her daughter as Mary was about hers. It was the obligation of every good parent. Maybe after talking together tonight, Mary would be in a better position to understand her daughter and to know what to say to her.  More than that, by evening's end, she hoped, she would have in Mrs. Powers an ally in guiding both of their daughters toward a more proper course.

"We still have about ten minutes before we need to start going." It was now 6 pm and they were expected at the Powers' mansion at 6:45. "You might want to double check your appearance and make sure everything is alright."  Mary hoped Wendy would take the hint and do something to tone her look down, but she suspected the implied suggestion would be lost on her daughter, as it in fact was.  "I'll wait for you downstairs."

Wendy was looking at herself in the mirror.  Again.  It was as if she couldn't get enough of her own reflection.

She examined her hair once more.  Wendy reflected how her hair had been waist-long as a little girl, as had her mother's as a child, and several shades paler, and she had loved it.  However, Mom had started working and seemed to have little time for such niceties as taking care of her daughter's beautiful fall of shiny, blond hair, or teaching her much about doing so herself, so when Wendy was about 10 years old, Mom had cut it to what she considered a more practical, short length.  It had darkened some over the years to it's present rich honey-blond shade.  Only about two years ago had Wendy talked her mom into letting her grow it out to her current shoulder length, but she still was relatively clueless as to how to style and care for it much.  It just hadn't been a priority.

That is, before she met Sarah.  Soon after first getting to know Wendy, Sarah had given her pointers on makeup, skin care, and hair care and styling, along with products, paraphernalia, and tutorial DVDs. It had taken Wendy a while to get the hang of it, but she was catching on gradually and was interested in trying new things.

A few weeks ago, Sarah had given Wendy a girl-on-girl DVD which featured a particular, spectacular actress whom Wendy liked, Sarah knew, and the woman had worn her blond hair in a fishtail braid in it.  Sarah had later asked Wendy how she liked that style, Wendy had responded affirmatively, and Sarah had  shown Wendy how to do it.  Ever since, Wendy had resorted to this style often and she was feeling increasingly comfortable with it. Every time she did her hair like this, her reflection in the mirror reminded her of the beautiful porn star...and what she had done with other girls in the DVD...and Wendy felt kinship with her...precisely as Sarah had intended.

Sarah had encouraged Wendy to experiment in other ways with her hair, like grow it long, which Wendy now wanted to do, and to try other new styles, which she had been trying to figure out.  Though so far she had pretty much stuck to down and loose, down with a little flip at the ends, ponytail, pigtails, and the current fishtail braid, she wanted to try an updo or two, a French twist, curls, and many more styles.

And, Sarah had suggested, maybe color it.  Without being specific about which color she would recommend, she had implied that could wow Lauren and help win her heart...Madelynn's, too.  Sarah pointed out how Madelynn's dramatic hair color change, along with other upgrades, had transformed her from mousy geek to intoxicating beauty and, as Wendy remembered her own reaction at the time with candor, she knew her interest in her friend had then started to transmutate into something new, different, and...kind of...wonderful. 

But then there was Mom to deal with.  Wendy knew her mother, "Mrs. Natural", would have a tizzy about something like that...at least something extreme...maybe she could  get away with some highlights or lowlights, or a subtle shift in tone.  However, Wendy really liked her own honey blond hue, knew others did as well, had never really wanted to change it before, had a hard time imagining herself with a different hair color, and didn't want to rock the boat with Mom any more than was necessary. 

But still... the idea was intriguing... What would Madelynn think?  or Lauren?  or Sarah?  or Rebecca?  or Cynthia?................or Mom?.......

Looking further at herself in the mirror, Wendy reflected that she loved the way her makeup painted her pretty face in bold color, and how the dress hugged and reflected light off of the curves of her slim teen body.  And she was especially enamored with the way her young breasts were displayed. 

When Sarah had given her the dress, she hadn't specifically mentioned wearing it for the dinner tonight, but Wendy had assumed that was the intention.  When Wendy had first put it on, and saw how much of her cleavage was revealed, she felt she could never wear it in front of Mom; it would be like rubbing her new...new style...in Mom's face.  She had asked Sarah whether she should wear it for the dinner, expressing this concern, but Sarah had said she should go ahead and wear it; yes, it might be a shock to her mom,  but it was important for Mom to start getting accustomed to seeing Wendy dressed in things like this more often, since that was how Wendy would be having to dress for the next while if she wanted to impress, attract, and win Lauren.  Sarah reassured Wendy that, by evening's end, her mom would not only be reconciled to the dress, but enthusiastic about Wendy in it.

Wendy had been very shy about exposing both her legs and her breasts prior to meeting Sarah.  She had always worn pants and never showed even a hint of cleavage nor wore anything tight.  After Wendy was treated to a whole new wardrobe by Sarah and started hanging out with Sarah's stylish friends, among whom modesty was a relatively minor consideration, Wendy became more adventurous, but it was right after the performance at Rebecca's that Wendy found herself caring considerably less about her former notions of modesty. 

Wendy had tried to recall what happened that night after the performance but it was a big blank.  She only knew she woke up the next morning at Sarah's, felt like wearing a miniskirt that day, as if that was her normal thing (despite having seldom worn skirts of any kind before, mostly just to church on Sundays, and never short ones), and she did so--for the first time ever--and didn't feel much like wearing pants again after that, except for the skin-tight jeans Sarah had bought for her.  And she had worn tube tops a few times in the weeks before that evening, but they were now among her standard fare. 

One particularly risqué item from Sarah she had tried in public right after that was a pair of tight, silver hot pants, which she had ventured to wear, along with high heels and a skimpy top, to school one day!  She knew that was definitely pushing it, but, amazingly, no teacher had said anything.  Moreover, Wendy knew she should have felt embarrassed wearing that outfit, especially to school, but, mysteriously, she did not, at least very much. Whatever initial qualms she had about it disappeared quickly and she had, in fact, ended up feeling quite good about it.

Wendy had chosen that outfit that day at least partly because she had just agreed with Sarah to seduce Lauren and Madelynn, and wanted something bold to really get the attention of those girls and start the seduction off.  At the end of that day, when she looked back, she knew she had succeeded.  Lauren had repeatedly checked out her legs in class and, later, Madelynn couldn't take her eyes off her and even seemed to go a little crazy about her when they were alone in Madelynn's room. 

It had felt good...somehow...to show herself off...like that...and to provoke other girls...get them hot for her.  She had felt the urge to do more of the same...in the future...

What Wendy had no clue about was the ride on the brainwashing machine Sarah and Lauren had given her that night...and the suggestions implanted into her that, among other things, weakened her interest in boys, made her receptive to Sarah's proposal to become girlfriends the next day, opened her to making out with Rebecca the next day as well, gave her buried romantic feelings for Lauren--although Wendy already had started feeling attraction to her--and made her want to display her cute legs and her lovely, pert breasts more.

As Wendy stood in her room and viewed the way the dress offered intriguing views of those breasts as she shifted this way or that, she thought about how she had recently started becoming more aware of them, had found enjoyment in them more, somehow, than she ever had before, and had been feeling the need to show them off.  She didn't know why she felt like that...maybe all women do, when they reach a certain age, she mused...but they were, after all, beautiful.  Why not share them?  

No, her mom did not see it like that, having taught her repeatedly to always cover them up, and Wendy knew she had taken a risk tonight, with this dress, but what she saw in the mirror now erased her doubts.   It was worth the chance of a censure from Mom. However, Mom had just had the opportunity to comment and fortunately had said nothing directly about it, more than just a question, though Wendy had been able to tell Mom had been looking closely at her and the dress.  

Wendy continued to stare at her hair and face and dress and breasts, fascinated...and she suddenly felt a stirring in her loins.  Sexual arousal came to her seemingly out of the blue.  Her nipples erected and she felt them poke against the bra and bodice of her dress. She liked the feelings, but was at a loss to explain them, other than by attributing them to the sexy girl she saw in the mirror.  While that was definitely true, she had no idea that another prime instigator was the fuchsia lipstick, a gift from Cynthia.  Another unknown factor in her arousal was the way she had drawn and noticed her mother's attention.

Wendy bit her lower lip. She walked briskly towards the door to her room and closed it for privacy.

After walking a few steps back, she collapsed on her fours on the carpeted floor. Her fingers reached into the slit of the skirt and beneath the folds of her pink satin panties. Rummaging through her hand bag, Wendy pulled out her smartphone and opened up the picture of Lauren in PVC lingerie. She fingered her pussy and stroked her clit. Her other hand went to cup her breast.

Wendy let out slight moans. In the midst of her arousal, Wendy's imagination went wild. In her mind, she was licking Lauren's butt, sliding her tongue upwards along the crevice, licking the skin of Lauren's ass and the black PVC panties. Her hands were clutching both sides of Lauren's butt. Lauren reached down and caressed Wendy's hands.

"Oooh, Wendy, I love your tongue on my ass."

A thread of saliva connected Wendy's lips to the PVC panties when she pulled away. Wendy pulled down the panties to fully reveal Lauren's smooth, naked ass.

A loud voice and knocking on the door interrupted Wendy's imagination. She was far from cumming.

"Wendy, what's going on? I told you before to come down in ten minutes. It's six seventeen now!"

"Sorry, Mom! I just need a minute."

Oh no, we can't be late for this. I'm such an idiot. Wendy quickly readjusted herself in front of the mirror. Right when Wendy was about to leave her room, she made a last minute decision and put a metallic pink bullet vibrator in her hand bag.

During the trip, Wendy questioned her actions: Why was I thinking about Lauren all of a sudden? Yes, I'm supposed to seduce her. But, I should only be thinking about Lauren when I want to think about her. No, Wendy, it doesn't mean anything. It's just practice. It's all for reaching my goal. Despite Wendy's delay, they were still able to arrive ahead of time.

In a large window overlooking the circular driveway and front garden, Sarah could see a blue sedan approaching the front gate.

"They have arrived."

"Indeed, Sarah."

Serena, Sarah's mother, slipped her hand into the slit of her daughter's red sequined skirt and beneath the folds of the red satin panties.

"Uhhh... Mom, my panties are going to get soaked. Shouldn't we do this later? The guests are already here."

"The guests can wait."

Serena cupped Sarah's left breast familiarly through the red sequined bodice of the strapless dress. She kissed the corner of her daughter's glossy red lips. Sarah turned her head around to receive a full kiss from her mother

"Mmmmmmm..."

Automatically, the gate opened for the blue sedan. Wendy's curious eyes examined the whole scene. The mansion was even larger than the one Sarah was living in. A maid directed them to park at a certain spot on the circular driveway. There was a discrete headset around the maid's head.

"Good evening, we've been expecting you. Please follow me."

The maid, who appeared to Mary to be in her early 20's, gave her a strange vibe. While the outfit was more or less a typical French maid's uniform, the skirt length was short, the outfit too form-fitting, and on top of that, the maid was wearing black high heels and full makeup. Plus, the maid's demeanor was somewhat cool, if not aloof. She reminded Mary of a runway model at a fashion show, both in appearance and bearing--quite beautiful, yet with a detached, emotionless look on her face most of the time.

Mary figured maybe that was just how domestic help for the wealthy tend to be. And the maid was not unfriendly or disrespectful, certainly; in fact, as Mary witnessed later, she was capable of warmth, personality, and a very charming smile. But still, there was something--was "exotic" the right word? or "mysterious"? or even..."sexy"?--about the maid which gave Mary a small degree of apprehension.

Wendy unconsciously appraised the maid's looks with a different type of interest than her mother.  The maid was exceptionally pretty and captivated Wendy immediately. Wendy soaked in more details than her mother had:  Her attractive curves; decent-sized breasts; green eyes; porcelain-like skin; dark brown hair tied into a ponytail reaching past her shoulders, the bangs cut straight in a classical style; and perfectly-applied makeup covering the maid's face--cerise-pink lipstick with a coat of clear lip gloss, a hint of blush, and black mascara, eyeliner, and eye shadow, which made her eyes stand out. For some reason, the maid reminded Wendy of Lauren, and that made her pulse quicken slightly. When Wendy realized what she was doing, she justified it as necessary to maintain her lesbian persona. But before Wendy's eyes left the maid's body, her sexual arousal suddenly came back, and she used all her willpower to suppress it.

They walked along the stone-paved walkway to the main entrance. Apart from their footsteps, the only other sound came from the decorative water fountain. Upon entering the front door, the two guests were greeted by the splendor of the large foyer, which had a red-carpeted double staircase, checker-patterned floor of gleaming black and white marble tiles, decorative sculptures, a glistening chandelier, and an assortment of luxurious furniture.

"Please wait here," said the maid, directing Mary and Wendy to sit on one of the exquisite red leather sofas. "Mrs. Powers and her daughter will be arriving shortly." Since they had arrived ten minutes early, waiting was to be expected.

Wendy was nervous--she so hoped Mrs. Powers could convince her mom that there was nothing to worry about and get Mom to ease off on her objections--but Mary more so. Even before meeting Mrs. Powers, Mary already had a feeling that the corporate executive wouldn't be exactly receptive to anything even remotely critical of her parenting or to questions about Sarah's intentions. She had to take a gentle and indirect approach.

Classical music played in the background, which Mary and Wendy had just noticed. Mary recognized it as a piece by Bach. It had a strange calming effect on both of them. Neither of them knew of the sinister subliminals hidden within the music.

"Wendy likes how her mother looks tonight... Wendy thinks her mother is sexy... Look at her eyes, face, lips, nose, breasts, legs... Wendy wonders what her mother looks like beneath the dress... Wendy thinks her mom could be sexier and more attractive... She needs prettier and more garish makeup... carmine red lipstick with heavy lip gloss... silver eye shadow... heavy black eyeliner... thick black mascara for very long lashes... They need to be long and curly... red lacquered nails... red high heels... red dress... Wendy's mom looks better in red clothing...

"Wendy and Mom are on a date tonight.  Your mom is your date.   You want to date her again.  Wendy and her mother could be girlfriends...mother and daughter girlfriends... and date each other more...That would be nice...and natural...and wonderful...You should be your mother's girlfriend...her lesbian girlfriend... Wendy wonders what it would be like to kiss her mom...to touch her mom..."

Not knowing why, Wendy turned and stared at her mother, paying more attention to her looks than usual.  She's wearing gloss on her lips...I like that...her lips look nice...Mom is pretty... 

She dismissed her looking as merely a proud appreciation of her mother for simply dressing her best. A sudden thought passed in Wendy's mind:  But, my mom could do better than that... "Mary Love-Livingston... You love your daughter... You want to be close to her... You appreciate her new looks and attitude... You like how pretty and sexy your daughter now looks... You feel proud of your daughter... You want her to become prettier and sexier... It makes you want her more...Go ahead, look at your daughter... Appreciate her beauty... Touch her..."

Wendy's left hand reached over and rested on the back of her mother's right hand, which was laying relaxed on her thigh.  Without thinking, Mary turned her hand upward so that palm touched palm and she clasped Wendy's hand in hers.  The touch caused Mary to blink.

Did I doze off suddenly?

Not knowing why she had touched her mom's hand, but needing to come up with an excuse regardless, and having noticed her mom's drowsiness, Wendy said, "Mom, we just need to wait a little longer. We don't want to give a bad impression to Mrs. Powers, do we?"

"Oh, sorry, honey.  I don't mind waiting. I was just so relaxed by the music and felt sleepy for a second there." 

Neither mother nor daughter broke the hand hold.  Though they had never held hands like this before, and there was something that seemed slightly weird about it to both of them at first, they both nevertheless found the contact comforting, and more natural by the second. 

But when it struck Wendy more clearly that most--make that no--mothers and daughters she knew, not to mention Love-Livingston females, just didn't really hold hands with each other, and, since she had been the one to initiate the touch, so she ought to be the one to terminate it also, she started to unclasp her hand, though with some reluctance.  But Mary reasserted her hold on Wendy's hand, as if to say, "It's alright, honey," and laced her fingers through Wendy's.  For some reason she couldn't explain, Wendy really liked that Mom had done that.

Though Mary had done this simple yet romantic act many times with her husband, at least when they were younger, she had never done so with another female--of course.  However, it had just seemed so natural to do it at the moment, with this beautiful daughter of hers. 

The fact that this was a rather intimate clasp, possessing connotations usually reserved for amorous involvement, was not entirely lost on both of them.  There did seem to be something romantic floating in the atmosphere--maybe it was the music, maybe the luxurious environment here, maybe the rather glamorous, all-female social occasion, both Love-Livingston women speculated almost unconsciously--and holding hands like this, though a first, felt so good that neither wanted it to be a last time.  The two sat in silence like that--fingers interlaced, content--for a few minutes.

For a second, the recollection passed through Wendy's mind of having held hands while walking with Madelynn so recently.  With Madelynn...her secret girlfriend...lesbian girlfriend...and now she was doing the same thing with Mom... But then Wendy's attention was quickly channeled in a new direction.

The maid had paused for several minutes, standing ten feet in front of Mary and Wendy, as if waiting at her post of duty. She was turned half-way away from the Love-Livingstons, giving them a perfect profile view of her curvaceous body and pretty face--purposely. Mary took no particularly note, lost in her enjoyment of just sitting next to such a lovely girl as Wendy and holding her hand, but Wendy fell for the bait, hoping the maid would not turn back and catch her looking.

The white-lace-bordered neckline of the maid's uniform blouse, while not extreme, was low enough to show off how creamy and developed her cleavage was. Thanks to a specially-designed bra, her breasts were held up and thrust forward in a breathtaking fashion, and Wendy's was the ideal vantage point to fully appraise their stunning shape. The covered parts of the eye-catching mounds were encased tightly in the shiny black silk of her uniform, which also hugged and displayed her slim waist, womanly hips, and generous rear, and showed off her slim legs, in a manner which totally commandeered Wendy's attention. Wendy also roved over the maid's face, admiring her perfect features, striking coloring, immaculate full makeup, and, especially, her full, shiny pink lips.

Desires passed subtly through Wendy's psyche.  ...wow...She's...she's...so beautiful... What a...what an amazing girl... She looks so...so...nice...What curves...such legs... She's...perfect...wow...Her lips...those beautiful..shiny...pink...lips...they look so...kissable... What would it be like...to...to be alone with her...to touch her...? 

Inwardly smiling, the maid felt Wendy's eyes all over her. She swayed and turned and touched herself slightly now and then to give movement to, and draw further interest in, various parts of herself, but did not look at Wendy. After she felt she had teased Wendy adequately, as previously planned, she started to walk away.

In the meantime, when Mary noticed Wendy was looking straight ahead, seemingly lost in her thoughts, Mary felt a compulsion to turn her head and to look at her daughter.  As she looked, it struck her that she had never quite realized before, even earlier tonight, how truly beautiful Wendy was. 

Perhaps she had been a little too hard on Wendy earlier over the dress she wore.  It was, actually, quite arresting, Mary reassessed as she scanned down Wendy's body.  Wendy certainly filled it out well.  Mary wondered how she could have failed to properly appreciate her daughter's charming physical developments before now....such a girlish waist...combined with such a...womanly...bust...and such nice...cleavage... 

"Teenage girls are sexy...Mary loves pretty teen girls...loves them sexually...loves Wendy sexually...Wendy is pretty...and sexy...Mary likes to look at Wendy..."

Her gaze moved to Wendy's hair--When did Wendy's hair become so shiny and smooth and pretty like this?  Where did she find that cute style?  And how did I not notice before now?, she marveled--and then to her face, with its flawless skin, straight little nose, full lips painted so alluringly in that stunning fuchsia color, and sparkling blue eyes rimmed with lots of tasteful makeup--maybe a little heavy, but really quite beautiful nevertheless, if truth be told, she realized.  Yes, Mary thought, she actually liked Wendy like this...there really wasn't anything wrong with the way she looked...perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgment...

When the maid turned around to leave, her spell over Wendy abated enough for Wendy to understand that she was about to lose the company of the maid unless she did something to prolong it, and also to recall that she had a pressing need that couldn't wait any longer.  So Wendy got up and asked, "Umm... Excuse me, where's the bathroom?"  As she did so,  she released her hold on her mom's hand, but only after smiling at her and giving her hand a little affectionate press, not sure why she did that or what she intended to convey, other than that it felt right. 

The maid turned back and looked Wendy in the eye, coolly pausing a moment to let Wendy take her in again, and to allow sexual tension to rise between them, before replying.

"Down the hallway, and make a right. Would you like me to take you there?" The maid smiled subtly but invitingly, and since it was the first time Wendy had seen the maid smile at all, or even suspected that she could smile, it dazzled her a bit.  

The faint innuendo in the maid's voice reflected her unspoken thoughts: Would you like me to take you there...and come in with you...and have some fun? The implication was mostly lost on Wendy, but Wendy was so charmed she would have followed the maid just about anywhere for anything, at this point.

There was another pause before Wendy recovered sufficiently to respond vocally.

"Yes, thank you," she answered with a bit more eagerness in her voice than she had intended to reveal.

Wendy couldn't resist eyeing up the maid again as she was trailing behind her. She liked the way the maid's dark, silky pony tail swished over shoulders and the way its rich brown color stood out against the backdrop of the black silk uniform. She also watched, with some enjoyment, the undulation of her ass and the grace of her slender legs as she walked.

Erotic images flashed in Wendy's mind. She could see herself running her hand up the maid's thighs, feeling the skin through the pantyhose. In Wendy's visualization, the maid tilted her head back and gasped.

Wendy forced herself, with difficulty, to clear the thought when they arrived at the bathroom. She was mystified why she was responding like this to a girl she had just met. It didn't occur to her that the question she should have asked herself was why was she responding to any girl like this; but by now such homosexual feelings were so common and natural to her that the only issue to dawn on her in her current situation was how fast the attraction had developed.

A little bit flushed with embarrassment and excitement because of the maid and her sudden feelings about her, Wendy thanked her once more. Again, for a pregnant moment, they stood and smiled at each other. The maid's smile progressed as they faced each other, revealing to Wendy her straight, brilliantly white teeth.

"Was there anything else I can do to you, Miss?" The maid queried.  Wendy was sure the maid had meant to say, "...for you."  But, either way, what did the maid mean to imply?  Was she suggesting there were services she could render by coming into the bathroom with her?  Like, for example?  Wendy's mind raced back to her times with Sarah making out in the restrooms at school, and her sexy play with Lauren in the restroom at the disco, and her shower with Cynthia at the Twin Venus Club.  Was the maid suggesting anything like that?

Needing to give the maid an answer, Wendy figured she had better assume the maid's question was as it appeared on the surface to be, a benign offer of general assistance.  Wendy declined the offer and thanked the maid yet another time.

But as the fetching maid turned to leave, Wendy asked herself:  And what if she were suggesting that?  What would I have done?  Should I have accepted, and then...and then we would have seen what... developed?  At that final thought, Wendy was a little perturbed with herself for at least not opening that door. She thought of calling the maid back, but then thought better of it. Maybe there'd be another time....

Finally Wendy's normal sensibilities kicked in, if just for a moment.  Wait.  Why am I thinking about her like this?..............Oh......yes......I'm supposed to think like a lesbian...I don't have my necklace on...but still...I'm supposed to try...all the time........so.......it's ok...

In actuality, Wendy had not been trying.  There was no effort involved.  Instead, lesbian feelings were coming easily and naturally to her, more so all the time.  In future days, the effort would be in trying not to think like a lesbian...and, thanks to Sarah, Wendy would seldom have the chance to make that exertion or feel free to do so. Wendy dallied at the bathroom door, so she could watch the attractive maid as she walked away, her high heels clicking precisely on the marble floor. Then, remembering why she had wanted the privacy of the bathroom to begin with, Wendy quickly entered the bathroom and locked it.

Wendy had already been eager for release in the wake of her earlier fantasized sex with Lauren, and now, after her brief encounter with the sensual maid, she was desperate. Unable to control herself, Wendy brought back the image of Lauren on her smartphone, then placed the phone on the marble countertop. She rode up the skirt of her sequined dress and pulled down her satin panties to her knees. From the handbag, Wendy took out the pink bullet vibrator, and turned it on. She pressed the tip of the vibrating bullet dildo against her clit and moaned softly. Staring at the erotic digital image of Lauren, Wendy continued where she had left off earlier...

After pulling down the PVC panties, Wendy pressed her tongue against Lauren's ass crack. She flicked her tongue up and down as she gave the puckered hole of her love rival a rim job.

"Oh, Wendy, your tongue feels so great. I think I'm starting to fall in love with you!" said Lauren with a moaning voice while she squeezed one of her black PVC-clad breasts with her right hand, while her other hand was grabbing Wendy's hair.

Looking at the time on the phone, Wendy realized there wasn't much time left. She turned the bullet vibrator on at the maximum setting. It didn't take long for Wendy to cum. The last fantasized image she had was of Lauren hugging and kissing her, fuchsia-painted lips against fuchsia-painted lips. Wendy panted in the aftermath.

Unknown to Wendy, a hidden camera was secretly recording all her actions.

Realizing what she had just done, she scolded herself. "I shouldn't be doing this in Mrs. Powers' home, even if it is for my goal. It's not appropriate. I need to control myself."

After hastily cleaning and fixing herself up, including applying another coat of her special lipstick, while lingering a moment to again admire--and adore--her own beautiful reflection, Wendy rejoined her mother in the foyer.

In the meantime, Bach and the accompanying subliminals had continued to ply Mary as she sat in the foyer by herself.  After Wendy and the maid left, Mary closed her eyes again to concentrate on the music--and, unwittingly, to better absorb the undetected messages:  "It's nice to be here...with Wendy your lovely daughter...a sexy girl...like being on a date with her...dating your daughter...your sexy daughter...She is your date...You don't need men...You don't need your husband....You don't like your marriage...You don't like your husband...You don't like men...You like girls...Women and girls belong together...as lovers...You'd like to date Wendy...again and again...make her your girlfriend...hold her hand again...kiss her...kiss Wendy...You'd like to kiss Wendy...and hold her hand again...like mother and daughter girlfriends...dating...going steady...in love...touching...kissing...so good...so right...a beautiful sight..."

Mary thought briefly about her husband, how he once again had failed her in a social situation.  But she had Wendy instead.  It was like Wendy was her date here.  That was a nice thought.  Wendy was a better date than her husband would be.  Mary preferred being with Wendy.  She is so pretty...nice to be with...I loved holding her hand...

"You would like to look more beautiful for Wendy...You want to be sexier...She would like you more...and want you more. You want to be more of a woman... the kind of woman Wendy likes...a looser and more sexual woman...one who wears makeup...lots of it...all the time...who shows off her body...for other women...for Wendy...

"Wear revealing clothes...Use makeup...Talk with sexual words...Think about girls...secret thoughts...dirty, sexual thoughts...It is okay...Fantasize about them...especially pretty teenage girls...Sarah...Madelynn...Wendy...others... Attract them to you...Think about Wendy...romantic feelings...erotic feelings... You have homosexual feelings...for Wendy...Your daughter arouses you...Make her want you...Loosen up...Experiment more...Be daring...Wendy will like that...

"You like Wendy's dress... You love Wendy's dress...so nice... just beautiful... sexy...like the body in it...You like looking at Wendy... her pretty hair...her lovely face... her cute, curvy body...so attractive to you... romantically...sexually... Her breasts... you like them... you love them... must look... want to touch...your daughter's breasts...kissable... Her ass...nice and round...sweet and cute...You can look...all you want...

"Wendy looks good with makeup...lots of it...You like Wendy wearing makeup...Wendy is beautiful...and sexy...a sexy girl...a hot girl...She likes her mom...She loves her mom...She wants her mom...for love...and sex...sexy Wendy...You want her too...You lust for her...must look at her... "

Wendy arrived to find her mother once again having apparently nodded off, and roused her just as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching down the hall.  When Mary realized what had happened, she uttered a quick apology to Wendy and snapped herself to alertness as fast as she could, hoping not to embarrass Wendy or herself. 

In a few seconds more, Sarah and her mother entered the foyer.  The dazzling mother and daughter instantly filled the space with a breathtaking presence, one which made an immediately favorable and heady impression on both Love-Livingston women.

"Good evening, Mrs. Love-Livingston. I'm glad you were able to come with your daughter." 

"Good evening, Mrs. Powers. It's a pleasure to meet you."  They shook hands.

"The pleasure is all mine. And, Wendy, you're exactly the lovely girl Sarah described you as." Serena stepped close and put her hands on Wendy's bare shoulders as if to have a better look.  The touch, and the proximity to this gorgeous woman, and her rich, spicy perfume pleasantly captured Wendy.  "Nice to meet you." 

Wendy blushed as she stared at the floor, before again meeting Mrs. Power's gaze.

"Thank you, Mrs. Powers. It's nice meeting you too."   Serena took a step back, to permit Wendy to view her better.

During the greetings, Wendy took in details of Sarah's mother. Mrs. Powers was like an older version of Sarah with similar features and curves, and a youthfulness which could have enabled her to almost pass as an older sister to Sarah, but also differing in certain respects. Though Sarah's breasts were quite large for a teen girl, completely filling a C cup and almost ready for a D, Mrs. Powers' were simply spectacular, a pair of proud, firm F-cup torpedoes, which stunned Wendy for a moment.  While Sarah's lush hair, tonight parted in the middle and falling loosely over her shoulders and all the way down her back to her waist in loose waves, was a beautiful, ultra-pale, white-platinum shade, her mother's hair was even lighter, a wondrous silvery white-blonde with a faint ash cast, close to the color of pearls, and even longer, as well, falling to her hips when unbound, though on this occasion it was up, as was typical for Mrs. Powers in professional, formal, and semi-formal settings such as this evening.  It was styled tonight in a dramatic, sophisticated, elaborate type of sleek French twist, interwoven luxuriously within itself and with narrow ribbons of metallic black, red, and silver, with precise, full, thick, long, shiny bangs, in contrast to Sarah, who did not have bangs.  Also, differing from Sarah's pretty topaz-blue eyes, Mrs. Powers' captivating eyes were the penetrating, deep-green color of precious emeralds, with an appearance so exotic as to appear almost magical or unnatural in origin. And while Sarah was nicely tanned, her mother's flawless skin was as fair and smooth as porcelain.

Similar to Mary's outfit, Serena's dress was black and not especially immodest, but, unlike Mary's, it was made of shimmering satin and left her arms, shoulders and back mostly bare.  The material hugged her figure enough to reveal a miniscule waist, flaring hips, and a full, tight, eye-catching rear. At 5'9", Mrs. Powers was also a full two inches taller than Wendy and her mom and an inch taller than Sarah, and the black high heels she was wearing added an extra three inches. Her high position in society and business as well as her regal bearing and her wondrous beauty and physique gave Wendy a mixture of feelings: awe, fear, and attraction.

"Dinner doesn't start until seven thirty. In the meantime, I could give you a tour of the mansion." 

Serena put an arm around Wendy's shoulder and guided her up the stairs, making Wendy feel privileged.  Or possessed.  By a beauty...

The last of the subliminals fired at Wendy as she left the foyer and started climbing the stairs:  "A woman's hands feel wonderful. Wendy likes being touched...handled... by a beautiful woman...an older woman. Wendy likes pretty older women. Wendy likes Sarah's mother...loves her hands on her...wants to be touched more by her...wants to be more intimate with her...sexual with her...

"Sarah's mother is sexy...desirable...beautiful...lovely legs...sexy legs... alluring, large breasts...like Wendy likes...and wants...wants to see...and touch...and kiss.  Her body attracts Wendy...Wendy wants to make love to her...to Mrs. Powers...and to Mom...fascinating older women...

"You trust Mrs. Powers...What she says is true...You like her...can't take your eyes off of her...Wendy must have sex with her...will have sex with her...wants Mrs. Powers' hands on her...all over her body..."

Wendy noticed the perfectly polished, long red nails on her bare shoulder.  A shiver of pleasure passed through her.  Something felt right...about being touched by a beautiful, feminine hand...and being close to Mrs. Powers.  Serena's loveliness, perfume, body, satin dress, and hand wove a magic web around the pretty teen as she accompanied her enticing hostess.

Sarah and Mary followed behind, Sarah with a hand on the small of Mary's back as if to guide or steady her...and to make sure Mary was positioned exactly behind Wendy as they all ascended the long, winding stairway. 

As they climbed, Wendy's feet seized Mary's focus first.  They looked so pretty in the

sparkling silver high-heeled sandals... Oh...those heels are so high...yet...so attractive.  Wendy's gait in them seemed natural and graceful.  And the toenails were painted... an eye-catching fuchsia... it matched her fingernails and lips.  Contrary to her impression at home that Wendy's color scheme was too loud, Mary found herself moderating her judgment:  It is a beautiful color, really... I like it... very much... 

Mary had noticed those details only peripherally before, but now they stood out and seemed to require her to look.  She dwelled on Wendy's feet and shoes for a few seconds more.   

Instinctively Mary sensed there was something more that demanded her attention. Unintentionally, Mary's eyes drifted further up. She had never checked out another woman, much less her own daughter, before tonight, and wasn't quite aware she was doing that right now, but Wendy's rear end, tightly packaged into the long, shiny gown, was right in front of her.  It caught and held Mary's eyes as it shifted back and forth up the remainder of the stairway.  That dress is something, Mary thought.  And Wendy is so...curvy...

Once upstairs, Serena accompanied and addressed Mary more than Wendy, while Sarah and Wendy usually walked behind them.  Each room was a work of art unto itself. Most of them were furnished with posh and high-quality furniture. Various antiques and artwork were displayed on pedestals and in alcoves. They saw the hunting trophies that Serena's husband had acquired on hunting trips from Alaska to Africa. Intact jewelry and artifacts from various ancient civilizations were also presented.

Whenever the mothers were walking far enough ahead or were occupied looking at one item or another, Sarah took Wendy's hand in hers as they walked, letting it go if Mary should look in their direction, and taking it again a second later. Once, she quickly planted a kiss on Wendy's cheek, causing the girls to giggle and Wendy's mother to turn her head back for a second.

Another time, after the mothers had turned a corner and were out of sight, Sarah placed a hand on Wendy's shoulder, spinning the pretty honey-blonde teen to face herself, and whispered, smiling and with a hint of conspiracy in her voice, "Wendy...I loved the photos!", whereupon she gave an embrassed and pleased Wendy a soft kiss on the lips, and then added, "You are, like, wow!"  Wendy blushed more deeply, for both girls were keenly aware of how lewd Wendy had made the photos,

Sarah leaned in again for another kiss.  Whispering even lower, Sarah added "And I have to tell you...I really loved the 'extras," emphasizing to Wendy her ardent approval with a another, much longer kiss, with tongue, sweetening the reward with a thrilling, quick grab  and tweak of one of Wendy's breasts. 

As the girls resumed their stroll and approached the hallway corner before they were missed, Sarah softly spoke into Wendy's ear, "I'm glad you're my girlfriend, Wendy,"  giving her cheek one last loving smooch and sliding her hand stealthily along Wendy's silver-covered ass, with an affectionate, squeezing caress, to underline the sentiment.

Wendy felt a surge of pleasure being connected to--and maybe even delightfully possessed by--the teen beauty with her.  Sarah's acceptance of the photos, obviously made complete by the naughtiness Wendy threw into them, gratified her and made her feel even closer to Sarah.  Sarah's lips and hand subtely made her want to give Sarah more of the same kind of thing that won this level of approval and reward.

Just before they turned the corner into the same hallway their mothers were in, Wendy impulsively stopped Sarah, gave her a quick, affectionate kiss on the lips.  She then took her hand, and pulled her around the corner, smiling to herself that she had a friend she could be so close to and do that with, particularly one as beautiful as Sarah--even though the lesbian aspect of it was just "pretend", really...more or less...kind of...

As the tour continued, Sarah also made various comments occasionally as they walked, drawing Wendy's attention to the mothers ahead of them, with remarks such as:  "Hey, Wendy...don't our moms look good...together...?"  "They'd look nice holding hands like we are."  "Wendy, even though I've met your mom before, I never realized what a hottie she is!"  "How do you like my mom's dress?  It really shows what a great body she has, doesn't it?"  "You and your mom both have the same beautiful ass...see?" "I've always thought my mom was beautiful... what do you think?  Especially her hair...What do you think your mom would look like with pale blond hair like that?  or you?"  In the silence following such remarks, Wendy felt erotic feelings pass through her...for some reason...

While Serena's tour commentary was largely lost on the two distracted teenagers, Mary, for the time being having regained a measure of her normal focus, was interested and impressed. "Quite a wonderful collection you have here," Mary complimented.

Wendy's eyes wandered to the Egyptian jewelry collection. She imagined herself wearing the uraeus crown, cobra armlet, and anklet. A naked Sarah was writhing her body against Wendy. Shaking her head with closed eyes, Wendy cleared the thought. When she reopened her eyes, Wendy found herself staring at Serena's black high heels and upward along the pantyhose-covered legs. ...her legs...smooth...pretty...

  "Yes, my husband has a penchant for ancient stuff," Serena replied to Mary, while a distracted Wendy was drinking in Serena's legs and then was drawn higher up to her rear and hips.

Mary's face contorted slightly at the sight of a strange Egyptian artifact. It looked like a golden face with a very big and long rounded nose, but the face was very small. Noticing Mary's reaction, Serena walked up close behind her, and, while bracing a manicured hand gently on Mary's shoulder in a confidential posture, whispered into Mary's ear, "Are you curious as to the purpose of that object?"

"Is... that a mask?" asked Mary, hoping that her initial feelings were unfounded.

"No," answered the shapely blond hostess with a mischievous expression as she positioned her face even closer to Mary's, so that her red lips would just touch Mary's ear as she moved them in speech. "It's one of those toys used by sexually adventurous noblewomen on their female servants as well as on each other." Mary felt Serena's hand tighten momentarily on her shoulder before it slowly slid off.  A trace of red lipstick lightly smudged Mary's ear.

Even though the contact of Serena's lips on Mary's ear had sexual undertones, it was ambiguous enough to be interpreted as being accidental, and so Mary dismissed the action as such, for the most part.  But Mary's perception of the intimacy included feeling those undertones.  As her sexual orientation was one of perfect heterosexuality, such a sensation would normally have made Mary feel uncomfortable.  However--given the loosening effects of the subliminals to which she had just been exposed, the potency of Serena's beauty, presence, and social position, and the sensual currents in the atmosphere--the touch of Serena's vividly painted lips, as well as her soft hand, left Mary feeling not only a bit flattered, but imbued with a mild, lingering sense of enjoyment as well.  If Mrs. Powers did something similar again, Mary sensed she...would not mind it...

Serena took a step back which allowed Mary to turn her concentration from Serena herself to Serena's words in relation to the artifact. Once Mary digested those words, and their implication, her deep-seated scruples against homosexuality surfaced and, consequently, her interest in the artifact mutated into a disgust for its true purpose.  Wishing to escape the unsavory, polluting mental imagery now evoked by the artifact, Mary shifted her attention to other objects on display. 

In the meantime, Wendy's eyes continued to rove over the contents of Serena's dress.  She lingered on the slim waist wrapped in black satin and the exposed, smooth back.  She continued higher to the graceful neck and the head of cool, pale hair, styled sleek and sophisticated, the perfect complement to the delicacy that her fine, superbly made-up face was. 

And Wendy searched out Serena's breasts.  She flushed with some guilt in so doing, yet it also seemed like quite a natural thing to do, as well.  The dress was not designed to reveal them particularly, but their generous size and the shiny satin material containing them awarded them marked prominence nevertheless. 

Only when Serena turned to Wendy, as if to make sure she was still following along, caught her gawking, and smiled at her, did Wendy fully realize what she had been doing and force her attention elsewhere. 

Wendy was not the only Love-Livingston female with wandering eyes on the tour.  Mary found herself fascinated with Wendy's dress, and ran her eyes over it at every opportunity.  That meant she had to look back sometimes, since Wendy and Sarah usually lagged behind the older women, sometimes whispering, sometimes giggling, always walking closely together like, as it were, two "bosom buddies", Mary noticed.  They seemed to bump into each and touch frequently, and Mary thought she might have seen them holding hands, in her peripheral vision, but she wasn't sure.  She wasn't sure quite what to make of that, except for each of them being a giddy teen just having fun with a good friend.

Every time Mary looked, Wendy's dress--"the" dress--seemed to shimmer in some new way, and to display Wendy's body with some different advantage.  When Wendy leaned over to inspect one display or another, Mary noticed her daughter's breasts press into the pockets covering them and her cleavage bulge.  With every step, Wendy's smooth legs, shining attractively in nylon, slid through the slit in her skirt for Mary's view.  The dress showed off to Mary the skin of Wendy's arms, shoulders, back, and neck.  All that perfect skin...and the beautiful, shining dress...and Wendy herself...were so silky and soft-looking...so touchable-looking...

Everything about my girl...the way she's dressed...her heels...the way she walks...her cute legs... her girlish gracefulness...her elegant make-up...such a very attractive young woman...Why haven't I noticed that this much before tonight?  Maybe it's the dress...maybe it's just Wendy...

For a minute, it struck Mary again that being here with Wendy was a little like being on a date with her.  Mary's husband couldn't come, and Wendy was in his place as Mary's escort.   Like a mother-daughter date.  Mary found the funny thought comforting.  And, yes, that was not unheard of, being the companion and friend of one's own daughter, doing things and going places together. Maybe there would be similar situations in the future...

At the end of the tour, Serena announced, "Dinner is about to start. We should head over to the dining room."

Sarah stopped Wendy for a moment on the way. Once Serena and Mary were far enough ahead, Sarah whispered to Wendy. "Did you forget to wear the necklace?"

"No, I brought my necklace. I'm not wearing it because I didn't want my mom to see it."

"Good, as long as you don't forget that you're a lesbian all the time." 

That statement made Wendy feel vindicated in having eyed up Serena so much just a few minutes previously.  Yes, it was Sarah's mother, and that was kind of sick, but...but she was a magnificent woman, one who would draw the eye of most people, as well, so Wendy felt she wasn't alone; and besides, that's what a lesbian would do and, right now, according to her trusted friend Sarah, that's what she was supposed to be.  So it was okay...

As she had done a few minutes previously on the tour, Wendy impulsively leaned forward and kissed Sarah's red mouth again.  Intending merely an affectionate peck, Wendy started to pull away, but Sarah slid her hand to the back of Wendy's blond head and pulled her back, engaging lips, then tongues for as many romantic seconds as they could get away with before they were missed.  Sarah stealthily placed a hand on one of Wendy's breasts and gave it a swift caress through the sleek gown, as she had done minutes before, eliciting a soft moan from her guest, before they resumed walking, Wendy hoping no one would notice her breathless and flushed state, and caught up with their mothers. 

In the dining room, Wendy and Sarah sat next to each other on one side of the table, Wendy on Sarah's right, and the mothers on the other side, each daughter across from her respective mother.  After they were seated, Mary asked, "Mrs. Powers, is it alright if you allow me and my daughter a few moments to say grace?" Despite being told by Wendy earlier that it would be fine, Mary asked anyway, not wanting to risk offending Mrs. Powers.

"That's absolutely fine with me, Mrs. Love-Livingston. Even though my daughter and I are not practicing Christians, we have no problem joining you in saying grace," replied Serena with a gentle, warm smile on her face. 

Mary wondered at that phrase, "not practicing Christians".  Did that mean they were Christians, but just didn't go to a church?  Mary thought that was okay, and hoped it was the case, as all four of them would have more common ground, from which she and Mrs. Powers could evaluate the situation with the girls and find appropriate solutions.  That also meant Sarah's morals would likely be higher than she feared they might be, and, thus, there would be less to worry about with Wendy.

On the other hand, if Mrs. Powers had meant to say they weren't Christians at all...then exactly what did they believe?  This was a substantial issue to Mary, and she hoped she could get a better feel about it over the course of the evening; that would help as she approached Mrs. Powers later with her concerns.  Mary was soon roused from that reflection, however, by the pleasant sensation of something smooth, soft, and warm on one of her hands.

In a move that surprised Mary, Serena extended both of her arms and lightly touched the back of Mary's right hand with red-nailed fingers while her other hand touched Sarah's left hand across the table. The act of friendliness from Mrs. Powers was more than what Mary had expected on their first meeting.  The slight touch gave Mary an unexpected tingle.  In an instinctive reaction, Mary looked at Wendy, who simply smiled, gave a slight nod, and extended her right hand across the table to her mother.

All four of the females at the table closed their eyes and held each other's hands while Wendy, in compliance with Mary's request, uttered the prayer. Mary, however, found it difficult to concentrate. 

First, Mary was keenly aware that she was holding Wendy's hand.  Again.  After the enjoyment of doing so in the foyer, Mary had secretly hoped for a repeat sometime in the future, but now her furtive wish was being granted so soon...as if it were meant to be.  There was something so...so pleasant...and almost...almost exciting...about touching her cute blond daughter's soft hand...with its fascinating painted fingernails...and holding it as if...as if there was an intimate connection between them...as if pretty Wendy belonged to her...which, of course, she did...Wendy was her daughter, after all...her beloved daughter...her beautiful daughter...

Then, the sensation of Serena's fingers kept drawing her attention. Induced by the subliminals hidden in the background music playing from a system separate from the one in the foyer, images appeared repeatedly in the subconscious part of Mary's mind of Serena's long, sexy red nails. The images suggested to Mary the possibilities that could happen in reality:  Red-nailed fingers grazing the back of Mary's hand... sliding up further to touch her wrists... continuing to sneak up, pushing up the cuff of Mary's long-sleeved dress, caressing her bare arm... stealing closer to the edge of her breast...

The hidden female voice spoke deep into Mary's subconsciousness, impressing lewd thoughts into her mind: "Sexy red nails...You like being touched by Serena Powers...by her beautiful fingernails...You love sitting next to her...because you are attracted to her...Her body makes you excited...You would like to make love to her...and feel her red fingernails all over your body...You love her sexy red nails...

"You want the nails on your fingers and toes to be red, Mary Love-Livingston... You want your clothing to be red...You love the color red... crimson red... ruby red... all intense shades of red... You love them... Red is bold... It draws attention... It's sexy...It invites sex...with other women...and with girls...with pretty girls...Pretty girls like women with red fingernails... women like yourself...

"Loosen up...It's ok to be sexy...and easy...easy morals...easy sexually...an easy, looser woman...Loosen your morals...they don't matter...All that matters is pleasure...with other women...and girls...Let go...Give in...You want to be sexy... You want to seduce other females...especially teenage girls...pretty teen girls...like your daughter..."

Once grace ended, Mary found herself fidgeting slightly in her seat. With a bit of effort, she regained her composure.   Must be the atmosphere of this whole place... It's making me feel uneasy and excited, Mary thought. 

As Mary withdrew her hand, sliding it slowly palm-to-palm along Wendy's, Wendy, as an unplanned, instinctive reaction--inspired by hours with porn, intimacy with other girls, and various types of indoctrination, especially including the recent subliminals in the foyer--Wendy curled her fingertips inward into Mary's retracting fingertips, as if wanting to prolong the touch.  Feeling Wendy's colored fingernails lightly digging into her skin, Mary--her maternal instincts having been corrupted just enough over the previous half hour--intuitively reciprocated, hooking Wendy's fingertips with her own for a few time-stopping moments.

With some surprise, Mary looked across the table.  She found Wendy gazing into her eyes, with an affection she had not often seen, quite like this, written on her daughter's face.  A thrill of mysterious origin flashed through a blushing Mary as their fingertips finally resumed their unhurried slide, each feeling the dragging fingernails of the other until the fingers finally separated.  The thrill, unknown to Mary, was duplicated within Wendy.

They had a fancy seafood dinner. Wine was served, but only for Mary and Serena. Mary didn't want to drink at first, but Serena insisted and promised her a chauffeur would drive them home. Only fruit juice and water were available for Sarah and Wendy. The two mothers talked about various topics such as fashion, homemaking, children, vacations, and hobbies.

Sarah and Wendy ate silently. However, Sarah dropped hints to Wendy that she wanted to break the monotony. Sarah stared at Wendy with seductive eyes and a smile. She did a slight hair toss and licked her lips sensually.

What does Sarah want? What am I supposed to do? In a sudden realization, Wendy knew what to do next. Remembering the game she played with Sarah at the sandwich shop, Wendy reached over with her left foot and caressed Sarah's lower leg, feeling the smoothness of it through the sheer stockings. Sarah smiled in response and closed her eyes briefly. She moved her leg only slightly, intending to let Wendy work a bit more. It wasn't until Wendy retracted her foot that Sarah started caressing Wendy's leg with her own foot. Wendy smiled and bit her lower lip.  As they continued, the girls looked at each other a few times and, unable to contain themselves, giggled.

Mary noticed something going on across the table.  For one thing, those two girls were sitting pretty close to each other, unnecessarily so.  And they kept looking at each other.  And giggling, when they weren't making a rather obvious show of trying to maintain composed faces.  While on one hand Mary was happy that Wendy had a friend she could be chummy with like this, the humor between the two girls struck Mary as not only slightly unruly but pronouncedly conspiratorial...and that latter quality was what particularly made Mary take note.

Mary came to this dinner with suspicions of something secretive going on between Sarah and Wendy, and what she saw now reinforced those misgivings.  She knew it wasn't her place, not right now, to openly question Sarah's behavior; but Mrs. Powers seemed oblivious to whatever the girls were up to, at least here at the table--and maybe at other times, as well. So Mary decided to speak up, hoping that a well-timed question might bring forth a revelation or two that would help her understand what was going on, not just at this moment, but over the past month or two as well.

"Wendy, Sarah, is everything alright?" asked Mary with a concerned tone.

"Everything's fine, Mom."

"Yeah, we're just doing a staring contest."

Mary felt like asking another question or two, but she didn't know quite how to go about it without disturbing the pleasant atmosphere that prevailed during the dinner. So she let it drop, assuming there would be opportunity later to chat with Mrs. Powers more privately.

Also at dinner, Wendy overheard Serena address by name the maid she had met, and had quickly come to like, so she now knew her name was Kayla. As Kayla moved around the room and table in her serving duties, Wendy did not miss the opportunity to stealthily (as she thought) eye the attractive maid more.

On several occasions, Kayla leaned forward to serve food and place or retrieve dishes on the opposite side of the table, giving to Wendy a generous and electric view of the maid's creamy, bulging breasts dangling inside her tight black uniform blouse. Kayla also repeatedly looked at her, Wendy noted, and the maid twice caught Wendy frankly staring at her breasts. Kayla's response each time was a warm smile.

Also, whenever Kayla served Wendy, she rubbed her black-silk-encased body against Wendy's back or arm, and twice placed her manicured hand on Wendy's shoulder, as if to support herself, with a whispered "Excuse me, Miss".  Each time, Kayla's perfume and touch sent a mild but pleasant shock through Wendy.

Though it seemed like Kayla was flirting with her, Wendy was not sure, and finally gave the benefit of the doubt to the supposition that the maid was probably a normal young woman just being friendly, and also that a maid in so wealthy and, presumably, disciplined a household would not risk her job by trying anything untoward with the guests. 

But if Kayla had been coming on to her, Wendy would not really have minded, not in the least, in fact, nor would she have thought it unnatural for one girl to be flirting with another, so used was she now to the concept, through repeated exposure to lesbian porn and from a mounting array of personal experience.  What she would have found odd, if not annoying, would have been an attempt by a boy to try something with her.  A move from that direction simple no longer would make sense to her; it would be neither comprehensible nor welcome, despite what she might like to think would, in theory, be the case.

But it also appeared to Wendy that Kayla had some particular interest in her mom. Wendy noted Kayla seemed to look frequently in Mary's direction, not just Wendy's; appeared to try to make eye contact with her more than was necessary; touched her lightly occasionally; was particularly solicitous to her; and that she spoke to Mary and asked her questions at every conceivable opportunity--"Oh, let me help you with that napkin." "Can I get you more shrimp scampi, madam?" "Allow me, please," helping her with her chair. "Oh, let me get that for you," sweeping a crumb from Mary's blouse, and blotting a drop from her chin. "How is everything tonight, ma'am?" "Can I do anything more for you?" (Both Wendy and Mary had thought Kayla had said, "...anything more to you," but they assumed they just misheard.)

Mary had noticed the extra attention as well. At first, her uneasy feeling about this maid had been heightened because of it.

By the time the main course had been served, Mary had analyzed what had made her feel so. It was because the maid was...well...sexy.  Mary hadn't wanted to conjure that word earlier at home in application to her daughter, but it definitely applied to this maid--"Kayla", Mary had heard her called.

The discomfort was caused by an almost palpable sexuality oozing from the girl, perceived more intently every time the girl drew close or looked at her. Though Mary had not been around domestic servants much, she still had the impression that they normally would be more on the...conservative side. This girl was anything but, and it wasn't just her attire and overall appearance; no, it was the aura she gave off, as well. There was something...oh... something sensual...or seductive...about her.  Maybe dangerous, too. It was the same feeling she got from some female employees in the company where she worked, the ones who got all the attention from the males and weren't afraid of using their beauty to its full advantage.

Then, Mary realized her feelings were probably unfounded. She didn't even know the maid, and it would be foolish to make such hasty judgments.

As the dinner progressed, Mary observed that others of the household help--interestingly, every one an attractive young woman--partook, to some degree, of a style and bearing similar to Kayla's, which put Mary slightly more at ease about Kayla, although it did make her wonder about the lady of the house, who would hire this kind of homogenous staff, and who would permit or require their...sensual...kind of presence.

By the end of the dinner, Mary had started to forget about it, and had even come to feel somewhat flattered by Kayla's attentiveness. Perhaps it was the wine.

There was one additional undercurrent flowing during the dinner.  Wendy and Mary had been seated directly opposite each other at the table--deliberately--and they found themselves looking at each other with greater frequency and interest than either could account for.  Mostly they took turns, and when their eyes occasionally met, they simply both smiled, as if to say, and it was understood by both to mean, "Isn't it nice being here, and being together for it?" 

Neither of them had any idea that the cause of their mutual visual appreciation and interest was the subliminals that were playing in the background music. The atmosphere of feminine sensuality became impossible to ignore for both guests. Because it was Mary's first exposure to the subliminals, she did not recognize the Sapphic implications of the feelings she was experiencing during the dinner.

Wendy realized, as she glanced or even stared, when she could, that she had never quite noticed before tonight what an attractive woman her mom was.  Oh yes, she had known, but not quite like this.  She was proud to be here tonight, in this company of pretty females, with a mother who fit in so well as one of them. 

And what potential Mom had!  Why didn't she exploit herself a little bit more?  Wendy knew Mom preferred a natural, restrained look, but...but if she just let herself loose ...just a little bit...just a little more makeup and something...something more daring...in doing her hair...and in the clothes she wore...

For some reason Wendy was getting intrigued about how far her mom could and would go, if prompted, and what she'd look like then.  Like, if she used some red...yes...Mom in red...red lipstick...or a red dress...or anything else red...even red hair...or red lingerie...she'd be a babe in red.  Wendy tried to visualize it, but couldn't quite...yet she somehow knew it was true...and that she'd like to see it...

And, without quite realizing it at first, she started to wonder what kind of bra and panties Mom had on tonight.  Well, Wendy knew, from having done the laundry at home, and having from time to time seen Mom at home in her undies, that her panties almost certainly were white, full-cut "brief" style, and opaque; the only questions would be, were they cotton or nylon, and Wendy speculated that Mom had gone wild and worn her nylon panties for this event.  As for her bra, without doubt it was her typical, utilitarian, full-cup, underwire model, again likely white, even though her dress was black, as Mom did not own much colored lingerie, much less anything black, at least to Wendy's knowledge.  Wendy knew Mom did have one or two lacy bras which she hardly ever wore, but maybe tonight...? 

Wendy reflected on her own underwear...on the old, dowdy things she used to wear...before she met Sarah...plain, modest things...and how she liked the things Sarah had bought for her...and encouraged her to wear...They put a girl in touch with her sensual side...her sexy side...They felt so good...made her feel more feminine...and more...more tempting...to others...to other girls...

Wendy realized for the first time that her old underwear--what she had been perfectly content with just a few weeks ago--now seemed so juvenile...so...well...so prudish--which word seemed to suggest "sick" and "retarded" now to Wendy's mind--and, if she didn't have to, she didn't want to go back to them...after all this was over...

Wendy let her thoughts stray more...back across the table. What would Mom look like without the dress...  An image of her mom sitting there at dinner dressed only in her bra and panties flashed before Wendy, and made her smile to herself.  What if her underwear was see-through? like some of mine?...or  red?  The idea of her mom in red suddenly caught her imagination--again, she realized, as it had only a moment ago.  She wondered why she was thinking like this.  Well...anyway...she'd be hot...

On her part, Mary was feeling more comfortable, if not taken, with Wendy's appearance by the minute.   She confirmed her earlier reassessment, formed while waiting in the foyer, that she had been too hasty in questioning Wendy's dress this evening.  After all, Sarah was also dressed in a rather risqué manner, the maids were attired sexily, and even Serena--the thought of whom, sitting so close, right next to her at the table, with her red lips and fingernails, made Mary flush with a measure of excitement, for some reason--even Serena, while not actually that immodest, was certainly glamorous, so Wendy at least fit in here. 

And it was not beyond reason that a girl with such a cute little body, like Wendy's, would want to display it occasionally, Mary reflected; while it might not be appropriate for Wendy to wear revealing attire and attention-getting makeup all the time, maybe she, Mary, could manage to be a little more understanding and flexible, maybe even supportive sometimes, with her daughter in the future.

As she studied Wendy at every opportunity, Mary started to notice more details about Wendy she had somehow missed before.  Such as Wendy's silver jewelry...it was most complementary to her...the bracelets and the earrings.  And her eyes...they were so...

Then the earrings hit her, and her attention was called back to them.  At home, Mary had taken them in only peripherally, as an integrated element of Wendy's overall appearance, having mainly been preoccupied with Wendy's new silver dress, but the earrings were part of the eye-popping worldly look, Mary now evaluated, that had given Mary pause earlier.

The earrings were very long, brushing Wendy's shoulders, and somewhat voluminous.  Each earring suspending three strands of fine silver chain, each strand holding three or four large, tear-drop shaped black onyx stones set in lacy silver, the jewelry of each strand tiered with the others to give a waterfall effect.  They were classy, striking adornments for a woman. 

Wendy had only started wearing earrings since she had started keeping company with Sarah, Mary mused, but these were the flashiest ones she had seen so far.  Mary was fairly certain that they had been a gift from Sarah, as had been the dress and so many of Wendy's other new things. 

Since coming into the Powers mansion, Mary had found her attitude about Wendy's new direction inexplicably softening and her main objective for the evening blurring, but she forced her mind to clear and she remembered her purpose for being here:  It had seemed to Mary like Sarah was going overboard in pushing fashion and one bold thing or another on Wendy, and she might be misleading Wendy into questionable behavior.  And comporting with that premise, though Mary liked these earrings, she felt they were too sophisticated for a teen girl. They looked nice on Wendy, and she wore them quite well, yes; but...but they were so...so opulent...and sophisticated...too showy.  They were more than Mary thought was fitting for a teenage girl. 

This line of thought reminded Mary about how irked she was that Sarah had somehow maneuvered Wendy, as she assumed, into getting her ears pierced.  That was so presumptive and it wasn't her right.  Besides, Mary herself had never had that done, and had been none the worse for it.

It was this kind of thing exactly that had made Mary want to talk to Mrs. Powers.  Mary made a mental note to bring up, when she had a chance, both tonight's overly-fancy earrings, dress, and makeup and the piercing of Wendy's ears as examples she could use to paint the case she was intent on making, for the protection of her daughter.

Subliminals, however, quickly re-softened Mary's concerns:  "Mary... You like everything about Wendy...about the way she looks...the way she is...Everything fits...Wendy is on the right track...Sarah is a good influence...She's helping Wendy become more beautiful...and sexy...for you...

"Wendy is an example for you...You would like to look the same way...wearing makeup... nail polish...sexy dresses...earrings...high heels...sexy lingerie...

"Wendy is the complete girl...has everything you need...and want...and like...She is perfect for you...You like each other...like girlfriends...You should be lovers...

"Wendy is becoming more beautiful...She attracts you...everything about her...winning you over...capturing your affections...Look at her...It is ok...She is your daughter...Look all you want...her dress...her breasts...so big...You like them...like them big...like Wendy's...lovely teenage-girl breasts...You love how she is showing them off...to you...Look all you want...

"Look at her painted fingernails...her jewelry...her pretty face...her makeup...her glossy, colored lips...coated with lipstick...kissable..."

Mary soon found her mood and attitude mellowing.  She changed her mind about the earrings.  On second glance, they were actually quite an elegant touch...befitting so pretty a girl...they were, really, perfect...

An image flashed through her mind, for just a second, of herself with the same dangling earrings...of the enjoyment of feeling them on her neck...and of attracting approving and interested gazes...from pretty women...and girls...teenage girls...especially...

Mary resumed her visual exploration of her daughter, scanning Wendy's face another time, as she had also done in the foyer.  She noticed Wendy's eyes again, as if for the first time.  They were so clear and lively...outlined in black...the striking eye shadow...  And her smile...how cute...what nice, painted lips...her manner...how girlish...her movements...so feminine...her facial expressions...just darling. 

Wendy was simply adorable!   How could I have I missed so much?

Mary dropped her eyes to the cleavage framed by Wendy's silver dress, as if she had to.  She roamed over the smooth, soft bulges of Wendy's girlish breasts...took in how firm and pert they were...how they shifted position and shape under the slinky, reflective silver material as Wendy moved her arm to eat or turned her body in conversation or leaned backwards or forwards, even slightly, in her chair...For some reason it was...it was delicious... to...to look...somehow a...a wondrous sight...Who would have thought?  My own daughter... just...just so....

Mary had no idea she was ogling another female.  She had never done it before tonight, had no concept of it as something of which she was capable, and therefore didn't recognize what she was doing; plus, this was her daughter...and she was entitled to look at her own daughter all she wanted...although she had never thought that before tonight...but somehow that seemed true now...

Nevertheless, she sensed she had been looking at Wendy's pretty orbs long enough--maybe she could look more later--and shifted her gaze to Wendy's face and hair again.

Mary tried not to stare at Wendy too obviously, but she noticed that Wendy looked her way regularly, as well, and she felt Wendy's eyes linger on her rather often.   She wondered why.  Was Wendy feeling insecure in this social situation and looking to her for reassurance?  Or did Wendy feel the same unusual interest in her that she was feeling for Wendy? 

While eyeing Wendy, Mary did not realize that she, Mary, was twirling part of her blond ponytail on a finger, tilting her head that way or that, batting her eyelashes some, and hoping to catch Wendy's eye occasionally so that she could smile at her.  And her heart was beating a little faster than it normally would, particularly every time Wendy did look at her.

The hidden subliminals were triggering within Mary her female flirting instincts and directing them towards another female--her daughter--instead of a male.  Although these feelings and actions were a perversion of her normal personality, Mary was oblivious to their homosexual and incestuous character.   Even if Mary had become aware of her own flirtatiousness, there was enough ambiguity for her to interpret her behavior as mere playful gestures without any sexual or Sapphic undertones.

Gratification gradually overtook Mary, that she had a daughter who was such an attractive, appealing, and...and adventurous...young lady; that it was her privilege to be here with her tonight as her escort, and Wendy as hers; that they liked each other, as their frequent glances at each other seemed to prove; and that it was her opportunity to be Wendy's mother, to be the one closest to her.  She made a mental note that she would like it if they started spending more time together and became even closer. 

Like that hand-holding earlier.  That was nice...so very nice, actually.  Mary wondered why that wasn't more common among mothers and daughters, and why she had never done that before.  She also wondered what Wendy had thought about it.  Had Wendy enjoyed it as much as she, Mary, had?  It seemed that she did.  Hopefully there would be more such opportunities...and occasions to be close... 

Mary's long hours at work meant that she had less time to spend with her daughter than she wanted to. And with her husband still working overseas on a contracted job, Wendy got even less parental interaction.  As Mary ate the cherry parfait cheesecake Kayla had just brought her for desert (and found herself attracted to the red color of the cherries...such a beautiful color...I love red, she abstractly thought, as an undercurrent in her mind), Mary told herself something needed to be done to help her daughter. Wendy's adoption of a foxy-girl style might be an indication of wanting more attention because she wasn't getting enough of it at home. Mary decided that she needed to be the one to give her sweet daughter more interest and care.

Unknown to Mary, she was being steered by the subliminals into wanting to get closer to her daughter.  They had triggered a need  and, in order to satisfy that need, Mary automatically came up with possible solutions, which she mistakenly believed were simply the product of her own free deliberations.

The idea even crossed Mary's mind that she might cultivate a more intimate relationship with Wendy if she were to...to copy Wendy...in just a few things...like she had with the lip gloss...to demonstrate her appreciation...and understanding.  But realizing that she did have to set a good example, and that her conservative nature was not well-suited to much experimentation anyway, she ended up dismissing the idea.  For the most part.  But not entirely.  Maybe she'd have to think about it...

The subliminal voice spoke: "You need more makeup, Mary Love-Livingston... You want to put on sexy makeup in order be with other attractive females... to fit in with them...to be one of them... to attract other lovely women... to charm pretty young girls... like your daughter... Sexy, bold makeup is what you want... makeup and clothing... powerful cosmetics and revealing attire...daring and sexy... bold and attention-getting..."

As that worked on Mary's subconscious  mind, she started to become more aware consciously that everyone else present was wearing much more makeup than she was.  Though she was loyal to her natural look, she started to feel slightly out of place, and wished she had given in to her urge at home to apply more makeup while getting ready.  She began to wonder how she would look with makeup similar to the women and girls around her tonight, and whether she would catch Wendy's gaze more often if she had been more daring.

It also started to strike Mary that she did not quite fit in in another respect...her dress.  It was an okay dress, one she had worn many times previously for social events; but now it seemed a little tired, worn-out, old-fashioned, out-dated.  The other females present were more fashionable, their dresses more attractive...more... enchanting...more eye-catching...better somehow... Perhaps it was time for a new dress...or two...something with more...pizzazz...like Mrs. Powers' dress...or Sarah's...or Wendy's... 

"Red is your strongest preference... red lips... red nails... red clothing... red lingerie... as much red as possible... because you love it... It arouses you... It helps you draw the attention of other females...of girls like Wendy...and Sarah...and women...like Serena Powers. 

"You like Serena Powers... sitting here next to her...you feel yourself attracted to her... getting emotionally involved with her... starting to fall for her... as you once did for your husband... You could be her girlfriend...instead of your husband's wife... She would be better than your husband...better than any man... You could sleep with her...make love to her...be her lover... It feels so right...to feel like this...about another woman...

"You want her approval...and her affection... You want her to love you... You could be her girlfriend...her lover...if you had sexy red fingernails...and red lips...and wore revealing dresses... and high heels...and loosened up... You want to use nail polish...and lipstick...and be sexy...all the time...

"Serena Powers...so beautiful...You want her...can't stop thinking about her...can't resist her...Her dress exposes so much smooth skin...her neck...and shoulders...and back...soft, smooth skin...waiting to be touched...by you...You'd love to touch her...and see more of her...without the dress... And her wet, kissable red lips...You'd love to kiss those lips...Look at her..."

Mary turned her head some to better look at Serena, who was currently occupied talking across the table to the two teen girls.  Mary first scanned Serena's face, drinking in the fineness of her features and making mental note of how Serena's makeup contributed to her allure.

"You want beautiful hair like Serena.  You have always wanted to experiment with your hair.  You wonder what you would look like as a brunette...or a redhead...or with deep black hair...or with a pale blond shade...or something else...different...dramatic; and you want to do something different with your style..."

Subliminals painted a vision into Mary's brain of looking at herself in a mirror, her honey-blond hair in four new hairstyles, one after another, for a moment each--first, a suave French twist like Serena's; then, a shoulder-length concoction of wavy curls and side-swept bangs; next, a regal updo featuring a braided crown; then girlishly long and loosely curled hair.

Mary looked at Serena's hair, so pearly-pale and styled so sleek and sophisticated, and wondered what she, Mary, would look like with lighter hair, or a different color of some kind, or with a different style...maybe like Serena's...or anything that wasn't one of the few simple styles she always resorted to, such as parted off-center and clipped back on the sides with barrettes or pins, or fixed in the simplest bun, or pulled back with a hair band or in a pony tail, like tonight.

Mary scanned over Serena's dress, noting the way her large breasts pushed at the shimmering material covering them, and she took in the soft skin of her neck, shoulders, arms, and back.  There was something so attractive and pleasant about a beautiful woman like Serena revealing herself like that, Mary thought.  She looked so inviting...like she wanted to be touched...or...caressed...

Mary turned her attention to Serena's hands.  She surveyed the length, color, and elegant, tapered shape of each perfect nail, the grace in the movement of her fingers, hands, and arms, and the flawless smoothness of the skin.   Mary was transfixed by the sight of those colorfully polished nails.  That red color...it was so nice...so gratifying... so...so stimulating.  She couldn't explain it.  She stared without realizing it. 

Mary watched as one of Serena's hands commandeered a fork so she could take a bite of her desert, leisurely sliding one morsel, then another, as if in slow motion, past the shiny red gates of her mouth. 

Subsequently, Mary transferred her immediate interest to Serena's mouth. As Mary's gaze settled on those red, red lips, she became fascinated with them as they gracefully moved in speech, opened to receive cheesecake, rolled as she chewed, and, through it all, gleamed with deep, mesmerizing color.  Mary admired how desirable Serena's lips looked, coated with that dramatic red lipstick.

An image, prompted by a subliminal, popped into Mary's mind of another pair of shiny red lips approaching Serena's mouth, then a tongue extending and sliding into Serena's mouth like a long piece of cheesecake. 

She looks so beautiful.  Her lips are so soft... desirable...sweet.    She must love the way her lips feel...and her hands look.  I wonder what she feels like...wearing red lipstick...and nail polish. 

And...and...what would I look like...how would I feel...if I did...too...?  What would Wendy think...?  It was the first time Mary had ever entertained these types of questions, and had this particular fascination. 

Then Mary suddenly wondered whatSerena's red lips would feel like on her own, and what they would taste like.  Again, she had never, ever had a thought like that about another woman before.  An image emerged in her mind of herself with glossy red lips approaching Mrs. Powers' red mouth.

When Mary realized where her thoughts were drifting and how she was gaping, she looked at Serena's eyes, was relieved Serena hadn't noticed her stare, and quickly redirected her sight and thoughts.

But that would not root out what was being implanted this evening.

Mary had believed all of her adult life that naturally pretty women, like herself, did not need makeup, and only really used it to conform to societal expectations in certain social situations; thus, only a little bit was needed, and even that was to be reserved for special occasions, although homely women might think they needed more to mask their deficiencies.

But by now, near the end of the meal, Mary's original view of makeup had already become distorted. The purpose for makeup was assuming distinctly homosexual and decidedly erotic connotations for Mary. She was starting to develop an instinctive need to put on more makeup, in order, generally, to fit into the company of other attractive females, as one of them, and as one whom they would find desirable, and, more specifically, to get more attention from her daughter.

Mary had just removed her eyes from the compellingly attractive Mrs. Powers and was trying to decide where next to look, some safe place that would not cause her thoughts to run wild, although she still did not consciously recognize that the feelings she was having were of a homosexual nature. 

Up to this point, the subliminals had directed Mary to concentrate on just two females, Wendy primarily and Serena secondarily, to make sure the most important lessons of the evening would receive due focus; but now it was time to add fuel to the fire. 

"Mary, look at Sarah.  You like her...very much.  She is a trustworthy friend for Wendy."   Mary could not help but look across the table at Sarah.  "See...just like her attractive mother, she also has red, red, kissable lips and remarkable, long, red fingernails...just the way you like them...shiny and red...

"Mary thinks Sarah is absolutely beautiful...and sexy.  That is why you like her...and trust her...and want her.  That is why Wendy likes her...and loves her.  Wendy should love Sarah...and want her...they belong together....as girlfriends...as lovers...You want them to be together..."

Wendy and Sarah sitting next to each other made a splendid pair...like they belonged together, Mary reflected.  No wonder Wendy likes Sarah so much.  She is just gorgeous.  I don't blame Wendy for wanting to be with her.  I'm glad they are together...

Mary's eyes lingeredon Sarah a little longer.  What beautiful hair...so long...so thick...such an amazing blond color... so light...almost white...like an angel...an angel with red lips and nails.  If I were Wendy, I would want to be with Sarah too...

The subliminals flashed an erotic scenario into Mary's mind, of herself on a red satin-covered bed between Sarah and Wendy, all of them in red lingerie, with herself facing Sarah, embracing her, about to kiss her red lips.  The image flashed away before Mary could fully process it.

The dinner soon drew to a close. Serena dismissed the two girls, "You two can go have fun. We wouldn't want to bore you with our adult conversation."

"Thank you, Mom! Come on, Wendy, let's go."

Wendy looked at her mom, who nodded in approval.  As the girls left, Mary's eyes followed Sarah, drinking in the flow of her shimmering, long blond hair down her back, her graceful movements, and the way her red dress displayed her curvy teen body, taking delight in how very pretty she was in every detail.  Mary also made sure to take in the backside of Wendy one more time. 

Maids started clearing the table. New wine was brought in by the maid, Kayla, on a wheeled cart.

"I think I've had enough wine for tonight."

"But this is very fine wine. It's been aged for over 40 years."

The maid poured the wine into two black glasses. One of the glasses had a powdered drug, which was hidden by the black color of the glass. That glass was given to Mary. Serena smiled when she saw Mary take her first sip from the black wine glass.

"Is your daughter doing well in school, Mrs. Love-Livingston?"

Mary was surprised by the directness of the question, but realized that it was a good opening for her to talk about her concerns.

"Yes, she's doing very well. Her grades are fine. How about your daughter?"

"She's doing fine as well. I'm more concerned about the people she's hanging out with."

"About that, I have similar concerns about my daughter too."

"How so?"

Although in this moment Mary's concerns about Wendy's new style and about Sarah had been significantly attenuated by the subliminals to which she had been exposed in the foyer and during dinner, discussing them had been her chief objective in coming tonight, so she did not hold back now that the opportunity was at hand.  "Over the past month, she's suddenly adopted a new image for herself, new taste in clothes, and she's putting on makeup. My daughter never did that before." 

"Well, adopting an image for yourself is a part of growing up."

"Yes, but...but my fear is that my daughter is doing this just to try to be popular and that her looks are going to attract the wrong kind of people, and...and that she's going to get into trouble. She never used to care about popularity and fashion and was never one to go crazy about boys; at least I don't think so.  But now suddenly she's changed.  She looks different and is starting to act different, too.  

"And that is just what I can see.  I'm afraid there might be some behavior she's engaged in that I don't know about.  I hope she's not getting into drugs...or doing things with boys she shouldn't.  I definitely don't believe in sex before marriage.  And what if she became pregnant?  Anything like these kinds of things would be such a tragedy for my girl and for our family." "Where do you think your daughter might have picked this up from?"

The drug in the wine was starting to affect Mary. She was feeling a bit light-headed. It was becoming hard for her to think...........especially with Mrs. Powers' lips, all the redder and wetter-looking from the wine, distracting her so.  Why did they have to be so...so red?  So luscious-looking?  So inviting?  So..........kissable?

Mary pulled herself together enough to pick up her part of the conversation. "I don't know, her friends?"

"Are you suggesting that Sarah might be responsible for leading your daughter astray?"

A pleasant image of Sarah came to Mary's mind.  Subliminals emphasized to Mary how honest and trustworthy Sarah was, what a good influence and suitable companion she was for Wendy, how much Mary liked--and desired--her, that Mary would like to get to know her better, and that there would be the possibility for Mary of intimacy with Sarah if she and Wendy remained friends.

Mary found herself absently staring again at Serena's lush red lips, and thinking about Sarah's as well, before catching herself and stammering out, "No...maybe...I don't know..." 

Mary could not remember why she ever suspected Sarah was anything less than the stellar girl she obviously was, and so Mary now felt embarrassed that Mrs. Powers had had to ask that question.  Whatever reservation Mary had had about Sarah had been replaced with heartfelt approval.

"Has it occurred to you that your daughter's change isn't really a change, but she's just revealing her true nature?"

Mary had, in fact, never considered that.  She was confident that Wendy was a good girl.

"No, my husband and I raised her to be a good Christian. We taught her morals and values." 

"It doesn't always work. Your parenting might have been flawed."

"Maybe in some minor ways, but we are trying our best. Wendy would never go against what we've taught her. We raised her to be a good girl."

"Oh really?"

The fact that an impressive, well-informed woman such as Mrs. Powers would question the moral goodness of her daughter was unsettling.  Did she know something?  A sense of foreboding drifted like a dark cloud over Mary...a sense that there was something about Wendy...that she didn't want to know...

Serena pulled out Sarah's smartphone. "This is what I found on my daughter's smartphone."  Serena slid her chair right next to Mary's and leaned against her as she showed Mary the 5" screen.  The warmth, smoothness, curves, and spicy fragrance of Serena's body were impossible to ignore.

It was an image of Wendy in a pink satin bra and panties. She was kneeling on her own bed and smiling.

This was a side of Wendy--someone who would expose herself in her undies for other people--that Mary had never imagined.  "No, that can't be Wendy!" 

In the next picture, Wendy was in the same pose except that this time she was cupping both breasts. In the third image, Wendy was pulling her panties aside to reveal her shaved pussy.  Mary was floored and speechless.

"I think Wendy is trying to seduce my daughter."

Ironically, Serena spoke the truth.  When Wendy took those pictures, she was thinking along those lines.  All on her own, she made the photos much more lewd than was necessary to comply with Sarah's request.  She had indeed wanted to stir Sarah's carnal passions and center them on herself, in part to pull her back from Lauren. 

That statement did not yet process, as Mary was still dealing with the issue of her daughter's vulgar immodesty. However, Mary's overt, appalled reaction masked another response of which she was unaware consciously.  As a result of her exposure to subliminals this evening, a part of Mary was charmed by how pretty, alluring...and wild...her daughter appeared to be in the images.  That part of Mary--granted, only a very small, discrete part, at least so far, on this night--wanted to see more of her daughter like this.  Serena obliged.

In the fourth image, Wendy had two fingers in her pussy. Her mouth was partly opened in a silent moan.

"No, no, no, no! My daughter would never do that!"  Despite the words expressing the real outrage of her cognitive self, in the little buried place within Mary her interest in the "bad" Wendy she was discovering was rising.

"Why would you think not? Why would a girl send pornographic photos of herself to another girl? Only a lesbian would do that. The evidence is clear. Are you denying the evidence?"

The full significance of Serena's conclusions finally hit Mary. "I didn't raise her to be a homosexual!"  

Mary's head was spinning, both from the drugged wine as well as from all that was being convincingly portrayed about her daughter.  Wendy was clearly not the chaste, modest, normal girl she thought she knew.  So who exactly was she?  A lesbian?  A slut? 

The dominant, decent side of Mary, the only side that existed at the start of the evening, was weakening in its struggle with the dark part of herself that had just been born, as the drug started to overpower her.  For that tiny new side, the prospect of Wendy being morally loose and sexually perverted meant an increased chance of and more opportunity for taboo love between them.

"Look closely." 

As Serena enlarged the image to magnify details, she inched closer yet to her guest, until her face touched Mary's cheek-to-cheek.  The contact of Serena's smooth, blush-covered skin and some of her silk-like hair on Mary's face and ear, though light, was a splendid caress, singularly feminine, stunning, shocking, thrilling, even through the cloud which was gradually descending over her consciousness. Despite the gripping nature of what she was seeing on the phone, Mary started once more to find it impossible to concentrate on anything or anyone besides her lovely hostess. Mary was swept away in Mrs. Powers' proximity, in the satin of her dress, in her soft, perfumed skin, in her sleek, pearl-pale hair, her heavy makeup, and her long, red nails.  And, in particular, those compelling lips were only inches from hers, calling to her like a homing beacon with their glowing hue, feminine fragrance, and promising, slick softness.  Understanding Mary's difficulty perfectly, Serena tapped one of her immaculate, glossily crimson fingernails on the  smartphone screen to refocus Mary's attention. 

"See that necklace your daughter is wearing in the picture? See the double Venus symbols? It represents lesbianism. Your daughter is a lesbian, and she's trying to make my daughter a lesbian."

"My daughter isn't a lesbian..."  Mary's voice and the vigor of her protest were weak. It was her duty to defend her girl, and to attempt to deny the obvious, but her will to do so was slipping rapidly.  Her mind whirled and she felt herself swooning from, as she supposed, the implications of Serena's airtight case. 

"Mrs. Love-Livingston, are you alright? You don't seem to be feeling well."

Mary slowly slumped forward as she passed out. The nearly empty wine glass was knocked over.

The drug in the wine was more than a mere knockout drop.  It placed the recipient into a special type of hypnotic state, rendering the subject highly cooperative, controlled, receptive, suggestive, and vulnerable.  When on "idle" the subject appeared to be asleep, and in fact was more or less asleep. But the state also permitted some intellectual processes--though altered and disconnected from her usual defensive and analytical mental mechanisms and from her normal sense of consciousness and reality--and a certain level of awareness of and interaction with external things, forces, and people.  Whenever one might wish to summons the subject's attention and "put her into gear", so to speak, she could see, hear, feel, smell, taste, and talk; assimilate information; remember; experience and respond to pain, pleasure, and other stimuli; feel emotions, including love, desire, fear, and hate; and/or act--all almost as if in a state of wakefulness.

With her fingers, Serena stroked the seemingly unconscious Mary's honey blond hair gently.

"Yes, dear Mary...your daughter is a lesbian.  And shortly, you will be one too.  Soon, men will no longer excite nor concern you.  Instead, you, like your daughter, will know the wonderful pleasures of loving women.  And, Mary, you will not be just an ordinary lesbian.  Oh, no no no.  Your hunger for female flesh will be ravenous. Your depravity will know no bounds.  There will no limits for you.  You will even crave your own daughter. You will make a magnificent lesbian, Mrs. Mary Love-Livingston."  

Despite Mary's comatose appearance and subdued mental state, Serena's words penetrated into a part of Mary's head. Using three fingers, Serena lifted Mary's chin and planted a kiss on her lips.  

On her mouth and in her depths, Mary felt the kiss--felt it physically, felt it emotionally, felt it keenly--and knew it came from those wondrous red lips on which she had been dwelling through the latter part of the evening. Through the mist, part of her also comprehended that this was a distinctly lesbian kiss, her first one, the first time in her life she had ever been kissed on the mouth by another woman, certainly the first time a woman had given her a kiss with a romantic or sexual intent and impact.

Mary's native heterosexuality, which up to the start of this evening had permeated every morsel of her being, wanted to resist liking this.  It tried.  But it just couldn't muster any significant disdain at the moment. These were the soft, moist, red, red lips that had captivated her...devastated her...the ones she had fantasized about...wondered what they would feel like on her own.  Mary, or a slice of her,  knew she was now getting to taste the forbidden fruit for which she had started to hunger but within the last hour.  Or was it earlier, on the house tour, when they touched her ear, ever so slightly? 

If she was kissing a woman...then...at least...it was these beautiful lips that were meeting her own. And those lips were proving to be even more velvety smooth and soft and delicious than they had looked. With her normal defenses--which otherwise would have been screaming at her to wrench away, to shriek, to throw up, and to either fight or run--now in abeyance, Mary's primary perception of this act was pure enjoyment,

"Mmmmmmmmmm..."

Three maids approached the sleeping woman. Two of them were moving a gurney.

Mary was gently laid on the gurney before being taken through a hidden revolving door. After going through a short corridor, they approached an elevator that took them down to the hidden underground level.

*********************************** Outside of the mansion...

"Tonight is a good night for swimming! We should go for a swim!"

"But, I didn't bring anything, Sarah. I thought we'd just be having dinner."

"Don't worry, we've got everything you need: towels, swimsuits, everything!"

"I would love to swim, but I need to ask my mom first."

"Okay, Wendy."

Mary didn't respond to Wendy's call. "What's going on? Why isn't my mom answering?"

"Oh, maybe your mom turned it off because she didn't want the dinner to be interrupted."

"I need to go back inside to ask her."

"No, there's a faster way."

Sarah accessed the wifi intercom system using her smartphone and contacted a maid. "Kayla, can you get me through to Wendy's mom?"  When Wendy heard Kayla's name, her pulse quickened slightly.

"Mrs. Love-Livingston? She's in the library with Mrs. Powers. I'll get you through to her. Hold on."

After about fifteen seconds, Mary's voice sounded. "Hello?"

Sarah handed her smartphone to Wendy.

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"May I stay here longer? I want to do some swimming with Sarah in the pool."

"Sure, honey, but how long are you going to be swimming?"

Wendy looked at Sarah.

"Overnight. Ask her if you can stay overnight," whispered Sarah.

Overnight? I wonder why? What are we going to do?

Wendy had stayed overnight with Sarah twice before, at the slumber party with Sarah's friends, and on the eve of "the performance". While her memory of the slumber party was foggy, she had the distinct impression there was sexual play that night; and as for the other occasion, she had no doubt

She dwelled on that latter evening for a moment with a sentiment she did not realize was nostalgia.  There had been that...that romantic movie...about two girls...two girls in love... She was on the sofa...with Sarah... They had kissed...then that bath...together...the anal play...her first experience...with that...

"Overnight", then, in connection with Sarah held both erotic and romantic connotations for Wendy.

If I stay tonight will there be anything...anything...between us? Not that I would want that...necessarily...

The slight debate within Wendy about whether to assent to Sarah's proposal to spend the night resolved itself with no further hesitation.  Of course she wanted to spend the night in the company of her beautiful friend.  If that's what Sarah wanted, so did Wendy.

"I want to stay overnight." 

"Overnight? That's fine honey. Just give me a call tomorrow, and I'll come over to pick you up."

Wendy was surprised how easily her Mom agreed to her staying overnight.

"Okay, Mom, I will. Thanks a million! Bye, Mom!"

"Bye, Wendy."

Mary's eyes were blank when she ended her call on the smartphone.

"Good job, Mary, now we can continue without further interruptions," said Serena before slipping her hand beneath the folds of Mary's bra and sealing Mary's mouth with her lips.

In the changing room, Wendy was offered a large selection of swimsuits to wear.

"Which one should I pick?"

"It's your choice."

Sarah changed in front of Wendy, taking off her clothing piece by piece. Wendy couldn't resist staring at Sarah's body. In one smooth motion, Sarah picked a red PVC micro-bikini and began putting it on.

The suit consisted of three triangular strips of shiny red PVC tied onto her body with a few red strings.  Each PVC piece was 4 inches in vertical length and but 2 inches wide at the base.  The "cups" offered essentially no support, only coverage just wide enough to conceal almost all, if not all, of the areolae of an average woman.  The even more provocative bottom was a pouch designed to barely hide most of the labia on most women, all on some, and hardly anything on a few.  On girls who were not completely shaved, any pubic hair would be exposed and on frank display.  On many girls, as the PVC softened with body heat, it would just sink into the slit, leaving the labia uncovered, especially after it had been on a while.  In short, the modesty afforded by this micro bikini was the most minimal conceivable in anything that could even remotely be considered a "swimsuit".

Before Wendy's eyes, Sarah's lush body seemed to ooze sex behind and around the glossy pieces and stings. Her perfect breasts wobbled unimpeded with the slightest movement, and waged tug-of-war against the slender strings holding the "top" in place...that is, holding it in place more or less. As Wendy ventured to look between Sarah's legs, not only could she plainly see the indentation of Sarah's womanly slit vainly hiding in its little pouch but, with a quiet, quick intake of breath, she realized she could also see the strip was too short on Sarah, leaving a small section at the top of her vagina openly exposed! Wendy's mouth reflexively started to water.

Sarah turned her body some to let Wendy have a good look.  She raised her arms above her head, lifting her long platinum hair with her red-nailed hands, which posture popped both nipples free of the tiny sacs of her "top". She smiled sensuously at Wendy as she lowered her arms and faced Wendy again straight-on, her nipples settling tenuously back behind the red PVC. Wendy was mesmerized, her breathing labored.

Sarah laughed inwardly, seeing the obvious and intended erotic effect she had on her stunned prey. She loved the power she had over Wendy, and other girls, just by displaying her body. It would not be long, she smiled, before Wendy would know the same delight on a regular basis.

While it looked great on Sarah, Wendy was hesitant to put on one like it because this kind was much more risqué than any swimsuit she had worn or even seen in person before.

"What are you waiting for, Wendy?" asked Sarah as she put on her Sapphic symbol necklace. "You can pick whatever you want. Your mom won't see you. It's just us two girls."

Sarah flicked her pendant, which reminded Wendy.

"Oh, I forgot about my necklace!"

From her handbag, Wendy pulled out her necklace and fastened it around her neck. That done, she instantly felt freer to indulge and to experiment, if not compelled to do so, to become the more sexually uninhibited lesbian girl she needed to be.   For Lauren... She's the girl I want to win...the girl I love... She caught herself.  No...isn't it for Daniel? Oh, yeah... It struck her how difficult it had been right then to recall her original goal. It seemed like it was drifting away, for some reason. But, with the necklace in place, she was not supposed to think like a straight girl, after all. Wendy made a mental note that the next time she removed her necklace, she would have to try to remember about Daniel again...but not until then.

But her course for this moment had become clearer, as she scanned the many swimsuits available to her. With the necklace in place, she was a lesbian girl. Lesbian girls want to show their bodies off to other pretty girls.  Like a slut...the lesbian slut I am...the girl I want to be, floated suddenly through her head, partly as scattered words and partly as erotic feelings.

Slut.  Yes, she reflected candidly as she stood there, that word had just passed through her mind. She had never used to even think that word, but lately it seemed she had heard it spoken more often--she couldn't recall where or from whom, exactly--and it had been popping up in her mind occasionally. Further, she noticed that the word did not carry as much shock for her as it used to; and the idea of being a slut was not quite as appalling to her as it used to be, either.

She wondered why that was. As she searched herself further, she realized the word seemed now to actually hold a measure of appeal, if not excitement, for her that it never had before. The cause was unfathomable to her, and she was sure that was just a temporary feeling, as her standards were high--normally, at least--and she was really--basically--a good girl--or she was a good girl usually. Not a slut. Definitely not.

Sarah noticed with slight enjoyment Wendy's reluctance in picking a swimsuit. Wendy's noticeable hesitation and inner struggle revealed themselves in her body language. It was deliciously cute in a way.

As mentioned previously, Wendy's attitudes about sexual matters had been shifting.   Only a few weeks ago she had thought that all slutty girls were decrepit low-lifes to be pitied and shunned, and to become one would be an unthinkable, wretched fate.  That was still her basic position for her own life, although not as severely.

She now thought of it more in terms that, were she to move very far in that direction, she would fear disappointing her parents, her mother especially, whose opinion she grew up valuing very much; thought she would feel derailed from her original path and goals; did not want the negative reputation attached to the word; and feared losing herself, her original self, in a dark world of the forbidden.

However, having now tasted that world, and lived in it partly now for some weeks, and having been around and become comfortable and friendly with a number of loose and sexy girls, that world did not seem nearly as foreign and threatening, to the point that she felt it was more or less fine if other girls chose to be loose and sensual, especially if it were just with other girls.  Secretly, in fact, she really liked other girls being slutty.  She also got a perverse thrill, which she did not quite recognize, to watch innocent, tame girls transform into looser, hotter girls...Madelynn being the prime example in her life...not to mention herself...

As Wendy looked over the swimsuits and thought about that alarming word that had floated into her mind, she went back and forth internally about what it meant for her personally.

OK...she had to act like a slut a little bit, sometimes. And yes, she did it voluntarily. But she was expected to, and she couldn't obtain her goal, her crush, Lauren, without it. She had to compromise her standards a little to win her dream girl.

She started to correct herself again, that it was really for Daniel, but she remembered she was wearing the necklace, and thus in lesbian mode, so she suppressed the correction, and let the sentiment about Lauren stand unchallenged within herself.

Continuing her brief round of self-analysis, she added that acting like a slut, to one degree or another, was just temporary for her. And no, she did not want to be a slut. Well...at least not a complete one...at least not permanently...

No, wait...that's not right, she fought to recognize.  I don't really want to be one at all. I am not a slut!  That's not who I am!

But that did not mean she could not wear the swimsuit of a slut. That, alone, would not make her one, she again rationalized, and, with the necklace in place, she did have to try to be sluttier, at least. Not necessarily a total slut. Just a little more in that direction.  A little slut. That would be ok. Sarah and Cynthia expected it. Lauren required it. Especially when it came to just a swimsuit, she, Wendy, could go that far...this once...

She again scanned Sarah in her micro bikini. Yes, it was clearly something for a much looser girl...not for a nice girl like Wendy.  But...she was now curious...how she would look in one... and feel in one. It really wouldn't hurt...just this once...wouldn't really make her a total slut if she did... And besides, what really counted was what was on the inside. A mere swimsuit wouldn't be able to turn a girl into a slut...

So Wendy picked out and dressed herself in a blue version of Sarah's micro-bikini.

Actually wearing a micro-bikini was different than seeing someone else wearing one. Wendy took a sharp breath when she realized that little more than her nipples and areolae were covered, and not even the latter fully if she shifted slightly, and the shiny narrow strip between her legs hardly covered her labia, sinking between them more than over them. She could feel her womanly entrance was virtually unprotected...and was, instead, inviting love.

Wendy had an instinctive urge to cover herself with her arms, and did so, or tried.  It wasn't long, though, before her initial shock faded away as she remembered she was alone with Sarah and Sarah had seen her with less on than this before. Wendy started to relax, and she dropped her arms.

The eroticism of the swimsuit reminded her of the outfit she had worn during the performance that she had done for Daniel. Wendy recalled the sensations of exposing herself publically, and her lewd contact with Sarah; she had, surprising to herself, actually been exhilarated by it all. She regarded that experience with a peculiar fondness, for some reason--though she knew she really shouldn't--and, deep down, wouldn't mind doing something similar again sometime, especially if it were with Sarah. Or Lauren. Or Cynthia. Or Rebecca. Or Tamara. Or...

Her thoughts drifted to Daniel briefly, but she quickly corrected herself again; for as a lesbian girl, with the necklace in place, she was not to think about guys.  Her mind was subsequently immediately swamped by her current thoughts about Sarah.

Instinctively, Wendy turned around to show herself off in the exotic swimsuit. She mimicked Sarah, raising her arms above her head, catching her hair. She looked down at her breasts with pride as they lifted and bulged against the sparse pieces and straps of the bikini. Her only subconscious disappointment was that her nipples did not pop out into view as had Sarah's, for a part of her had wondered was that would look like and feel like.

Wendy realized briefly in this moment that she was enjoying exposing herself. She was starting to get the same exhilaration she had felt during "the performance", and during her little photo shoot. 

When that realization hit her, along with the possibility that this was becoming part of her nature, Wendy felt obliged to deny it:  I'm not really getting off on this.  I can't be.  It wouldn't be right. That wouldn't be the real me. I'm just playing along. I'm not some...some cheap...

That debate quickly evaporated as Wendy saw Sarah's rapt expression.

Looking at Sarah's face for signs of approval, Wendy saw a smile.  I think Sarah likes me in this swimsuit.  Is she...interested...in me...?  Will seeing me like this...will it lead to... 

Wendy caught herself; of course Sarah wouldn't be interested, that way.  She's not a lesbian...and neither am I...

But then Sarah touched her necklace.  Oh yeah...Think like a lesbian, Wendy.......... So...will this...swimsuit...lead to...something... something... between us...? 

Feeling authorized by the necklace, Wendy allowed her thoughts to run a little freer, and let them color with hope...hope that she was making Sarah lust for her, and that this swimsuit and her lewd exhibition in it would lead to something sexual with Sarah. 

"You look really great in it, Wendy," Sarah almost whispered, as if entranced. Erasing any doubt as to exactly what Sarah meant by that, Wendy observed that Sarah's wide eyes were boring straight at her pussy, drinking in the obscene display.

After several tense seconds in silence, neither girl moving, Sarah then fixated frankly onto Wendy's breasts. Wendy looked down at her mammary swells again, seeing, as if through Sarah's eyes, the exposed mounds hanging loosely. She saw the entirety of her cleavage was open to plain view, and her nipples were clearly discernable as prominent protrusions into the blue PVC.

A dark satisfaction swept through Wendy, which grew when she looked back at Sarah, who appeared absorbed by the sight. The discomfiture Wendy had initially felt in the suit was now completely gone, supplanted by wicked delight--a sentiment she only faintly recognized consciously, but felt deeply--that her breasts and her pussy were captivating another girl.  A buried sentiment subtly emerged:  Let her look...You love girls wanting you... Wendy's conscious mind told her what she felt was joy in being a woman.  While that was true, her subconscious mind swirled with additional perceptions about herself that were also driving her emotions:  I am a slut. I want to be a slut...a beautiful lesbian slut...I love a pretty girl looking at my body...and wanting me...me turning her on...I am loose...I am slutty.... Reflexively, as if to prove the point, Wendy pulled her shoulders back, thrusting her tits forward, stretching the shiny, thin, blue PVC against her nipples more tightly. Without thinking about what she was doing, but strongly influenced subconsciously by porn behavior, in which she was now well-versed, she swayed her torso, intentionally causing her hardly-contained breasts to bounce and wobble , and she slid her painted fuchsia fingertips up and down and over them, while looking in Sarah's face. 

More naughty delicacies rattled around Wendy's feelings:  My swimsuit is loose...my breasts are loose...I am loose...I am a loose and sexual girl...for Sarah...beautiful Sarah...my sexy lesbian girlfriend... Seeing Wendy's lascivious display and obvious aroused state, Sarah was jubilant within herself.  What a contrast to the mousy, straight-laced girl she had approached in the school restroom that day just weeks ago.  And Sarah had so much more in store for Wendy. 

Among other things, Sarah intended to make Wendy perfectly comfortable in this type of swimsuit--and not just in private, with herself--as well as in all other kinds of extreme and slutty attire, and to have a strong preference for it. The Wendy which Sarah envisioned would voluntarily, even eagerly, select the most immodest and seductive available apparel for herself--and even ranging with some regularity into frankly outrageous and alarming attire--particularly in every girl-on-girl situation, and to favor the same for other girls and women.  In time, Wendy would not blush at full nudity, in private and in public, and she was even now not inexperienced at exposing herself completely in both of those circumstances.

It was time to give Wendy a reward for her wantonness, and to solidify the connection in Wendy's mind between this kind of abandoned immodesty and sexual pleasure.  Sarah gave Wendy a seductive smile, and stepped forward, taking Wendy lightly in her arms. With excruciating deliberation, she started to wipe and swirl her PVC-clad breasts against Wendy's, continuing for several minutes. Her contact was slow, light, teasing, lewd. The tiny red and blue breast panels slid loosely back and forth, sometimes off, and sometimes back onto the growing nipples of both girls.

Fire started to ignite in Wendy's breasts. She slid her hands onto Sarah's waist, closed her eyes, tossed her head back, her honey-blond hair caressing her upper back, and moaned. "Ohhhh, Sarahhhhhhh..." Affection for Sarah poured into Wendy, seemingly through her breasts, as the pleasure mounted in them.

Finally, insane with desire for the platinum blond teen beauty, and feeling herself at liberty to let go by the necklace she wore, Wendy impulsively threw her arms around Sarah, holding her tightly while pressing and gyrating her near-naked tits passionately into Sarah's, with much more force and energy than Sarah had done to her. She pressed her glossy fuchsia lips to Sarah's wet red ones with fervor, then urgently stuck her tongue into Sarah's mouth as far as she could, savoring the sweetness of a girl's mouth.

Wendy lost track of time before removing her mouth from Sarah's, sliding her cheek along Sarah's face, and burying her face in Sarah's lush, silky-soft hair, all the while pressing her female orbs insistently upon her girlfriend's.

At length, when Sarah perceived Wendy was starting to wind down, she whispered, "Let's go, beautiful," and softly kissed the hot, love-dizzy Wendy on the lips. Sarah straightened the small PVC strips of Wendy's top back to "center", then her own, kissed Wendy again, and turned around to leave the pool house.

While the panting Wendy was following Sarah out to the pool, her eyes drifted to Sarah's ass. It was, essentially, completely naked, as was her entire backside. Only barely-there strings across her smooth, tanned back and around her narrow teen waist broke the view, the string threading her ass-crack entirely swallowed by it. Wendy could not tear her eyes away from Sarah's rear as its globes shifted back and forth with her strides. ...lovely...alive...creamy... smooth... round... naked...delicious.... Wendy had a sudden urge to touch and kiss it.

Appreciation for Sarah's swimsuits swept through Wendy. The more she saw Sarah in the swimsuit, the more Wendy wanted to do things with Sarah's body.

But at last, her conscience decided to make a brief squeak. Stop it, Wendy. Sarah's not a sex object! However, the self-reprimand left as fast as it came. Within seconds Wendy justified herself on the grounds that, having put the necklace on, she was now in lesbian mode, and a lesbian girl would definitely consider Sarah to be an appropriate object of sexual fantasy, particularly attired the way she was right now.  Furthermore, with that point of view, it was warranted for Wendy to expose herself as much as she could for a girl she was interested in, as any decent lesbian girl would, in order to try to start something.  

Feeling free now to analyze her feelings more frankly and from a looser perspective, Wendy admitted to herself that this kind of apparel was something she might want to wear again in the future, at least occasionally and in the right circumstances.  She, Wendy, did have a nice body, so why not show it off a little?  Maybe not to just everyone...but...at least to other girls...girls she knew...and liked.  That would be ok.  In fact, she was supposed to...so it was a good thing.  And it was fun...this type of suit... It gave her such a feeling of...of freedom...or something like that.  

And tonight, she didn't have to worry about anyone but Sarah seeing her in it.  She could definitely handle that. 

The two young blondes frolicked at the edge of the large heated pool, splashing water at each other. Their play was interspersed with giggles and laughing. Then they swam a few laps in the pool together in a playful race.

Sarah knew well, much better than Wendy did, that Wendy had a crush on her, and Wendy was making little effort to contain and conceal it at the moment.  Their girly love-play in the pool house had gotten to Wendy, which Sarah recognized. Wendy had been acting flirty, giddy, and touchy-feely with Sarah every since and Sarah knew it would not take much to fully ignite Wendy again.

So on the last lap, Sarah "accidentally" bumped into Wendy in the shallow end of the pool. Sarah made sure her innocent bump progressed to playful touching, then to sensual caressing, and then to kissing. 

However, after just a few, brief warm-up kisses, Wendy heard the click-clack of high-heeled shoes.  Seeing Kayla the maid bringing a tray holding two warm drinks, she broke the kissing off abruptly.

Despite having kissed girls in public before, Wendy still hoped to reserve such activity for private places. She still felt embarrassed, or thought she did, if anyone were to see her kissing another girl in public--well, there were exceptions, she'd have to admit, such as the time she and Sarah had made out in the park on a park bench, and the time they did it in the hallway of their high school; those had been pretty public, and, somehow, they hadn't bothered her that much.  But she certainly didn't want to give Kayla an unfavorable impression of herself.  She liked Kayla, for some reason, and she cared about what Kayla thought of her.

What added to Wendy's sense of embarrassment was the manner in which she was attired.  Yes, she liked the micro bikini, but she wasn't ready for a public debut in one yet; Sarah had said they would be alone, leading Wendy to believe no one else would see her in it.   Wendy might not have selected it in the first place, otherwise. 

Wendy's sense of modesty, as mentioned previously, was on its way out the door, and yet still asserted itself, albeit inconsistently, at certain times and in not always logical ways. For example, this was not the first time others besides Sarah had seen her body blatantly displayed; there had been the slumber party, the performance at Rebecca's, the two recent episodes in private with Lauren and Madelynn when she exposed her womanhood to them, and the afternoon at the Twin Venus Club.  But those arenas were somehow different than this one in Wendy's mind, and, even though Sarah was attired in the exact same way, she was still concerned about her public indecency and what Kayla would think of her. 

One element that added to Wendy's apprehension was the fact that her mom was there, somewhere on the estate.  What if one of the maids reported to her mom what she was wearing?  Or what if Mom came out to check on her before she left?  And what if Sarah's mom saw her like this?  Those were not possibilities that had occurred to Wendy when she first selected the suit.

However, something else quickly distracted Wendy, displacing for the time being her concerns about the opinions of the maid and her mom.

As Kayla approached, Wendy absent-mindedly let her visual attention drift to Kayla's long, slim, nylon-covered legs and the high heels on which they were perched.  ...nice legs...so slender...and smooth...such sexy legs... As had happened previously, Wendy couldn't resist imagining running her hands along those legs, feeling the cool nylon covering them, her hands sliding ever higher...Wendy's lips not far from those soft, delicious-looking feminine thighs...

When Kayla reached poolside--and was certain Wendy was looking at her again--she squatted down, apparently in order to set her tray down.   She did so, however, in a most un-ladylike manner, spreading her legs wide as her knees bent.  The crotch of  Kayla's ice-blue satin panties beamed like a beacon to Wendy's wide eyes.  The panties were tight and thin, and, though it was night, there was enough light for Wendy to make out the outline of Kayla's pussy lips through the material.  As before, Kayla paused for effect before rising.

Wendy met Kayla's gaze, as the latter stood up, with some embarrassment.  Had Kayla caught her looking up her skirt?  Had Kayla seen Sarah and her kissing?  What would Kayla think of her if she had?  

Still, grateful for yet another opportunity to interact with the maid, Wendy softly said, "Thank you," to which the maid simply smiled slightly, turned around, and walked away, endowing her stride and her ass with some extra undulation for the sake of Wendy's eyes, which she accurately knew would be following her.

Once Kayla was out of sight, Sarah took a glass and gave it to Wendy. The other one she gave to herself. After several sips they continued playing at the edge of the pool.

While they did so, and while the drug was taking it's few minutes to penetrate Wendy's defenses, Sarah spoke softly. "You know, Wendy, you did such a great job with those photos.  I can't believe you made them look so good even without any help.  You could be a professional model, you know." 

"Me?  I'm not sure abo--"

"Yes, you so could, Wendy!  I think you just have the knack, you know?  Some girls just do."

"The knack?  For what, exactly?"

"To make porn, you silly!"  Wendy had suspected Sarah was thinking in this direction, rather than about "legitimate" modeling, but to actually hear her say it, out in the open, about herself, was shocking. Wendy could hardly believe she was having this conversation.  Despite the fun she had had doing some of these kinds of things, and her secret, favorable thoughts about it, she was, after all, a good and proper girl...not the type who gets into this sort of thing...not for real...

"Sarah, no way, I couldn't.."

"You are talented!  Not every girl is.  You have the looks, and the camera loves you.  You look as good as most any of the girls in those magazines I've given you."  That had indeed crossed Wendy's mind, and Sarah's saying so was somehow quite gratifying...and exciting.  "You know you do.  Just look in the mirror sometime."  Wendy had in fact done just that before she came over tonight...and, yes...Wendy couldn't deny Sarah's point.  "You have something special.  You could probably name your price.  Imagine what you could do with a professional team, with you at the center!"  As Sarah correctly suspected, that is exactly what Wendy had imagined during the photo shoot.  "You should!"

"Oh, Sarah, I don't know..."  Wendy denied the desire she really felt.

"Why not?  What do you have to lose?  You could at least take some more for me...couldn't you?  And if Lauren ever saw photos of you like that, she wouldn't be able to resist you ten seconds.  Maybe I could help you.  Maybe we could do something, like, together.  And you know, my mom has lots of connections.  She knows real pros, photographers, camera crews, publishers, the works.  At least think about it, okay?"

"Uh...well..." 

Sarah put on her puppy-dog eyes and pouty little-girl face.  "For me?  Please, Wendy...it could be so much fun..."

The biggest temptation Sarah had laid before her was the suggestion that they might do something together.  Whatever she meant by that.  That...that could be interesting... yes...and fun...maybe a lot of fun......And then...she owed Sarah so much...and trusted her implicitely...She would do almost anything for Sarah...

"Well...for you...I'll think about it...but that's all!"

"Yaaay, Wendy!  I can't wait to see more of your photos...more of you....  You could even start off posing in something like this..." She gestured toward Wendy's micro-bikini. Wendy gasped delicately at the idea, making Sarah laugh internally at how predictable and cute Wendy was.  "That would be so hot!"  Sarah played, as if with nervous excitement, with the string straps of her own top, transfixing Wendy's gradually fuzzing attention on Sarah's large, nearly-nude tits.

"But..."   Was Sarah assuming it was a done deal?  Wendy had not agreed yet...had she?  But it had just started getting harder for Wendy to put her thoughts into words.  Wendy did not know why.  She only knew Sarah's breasts were gradually filling her mind as the two most important and beautiful things in the world. "But..."

Sarah slowly stepped closer to Wendy.  "You don't know how much I liked those photos, Wendy.  That night, I just couldn't stop thinking about you.   You looked so... so ..." Without warning, Sarah suddenly embraced Wendy and tried to perform a tight lip lock with her.  Wendy's first reaction was to melt into her girlfriend's embrace and mouth, but in a moment, afraid Kayla or another maid would return or that even one of their mothers might come out, as her last alert act for at least the next hour, Wendy tried to push Sarah away, worriedly exclaiming in a low voice, as a strand of lipstick-laden saliva connected their slightly separated painted mouths,  "We're going to be seen!"

"It's alright. We'll stop when someone comes.  Besides, my foxy girlfriend, I just can't resist you..."

Wendy's protest was quickly ended by Sarah again pursuing the deep kiss. Wendy gasped when Sarah also pressed her knee against her crotch underwater. In slow motions, Sarah's knee rubbed Wendy's pussy through the scanty parody of a covering that was her bikini bottom.

The drug in Wendy's drink was starting to take effect. Since most of the drug was concentrated in the floating frothy part of the drink, Wendy didn't need to finish her drink to feel the full effects.  Worry about being seen was soon completely swallowed in the pleasure of Sarah's attentions, Wendy's ardent feelings for Sarah,, and the disarming aura of the drug.

At length the moving knee was replaced by Sarah's fingers, which easily reached beneath the unresisting PVC panel to access Wendy's labia. 

"Uh... Uhhh... Uhh..." moaned Wendy with closed eyes as Sarah worked her fingers.

Sarah kissed Wendy again with tongue action. Wendy sucked on Sarah's tongue.

"Wendy, you want to have sex at any place and any time, as long as you can get away with it."

"Sex at any place and any time..." replied a dreamy Wendy.

"Yes, and only lesbian sex..." continued Sarah in a husky voice.

"Only lesbian sex..."

"That is correct... 'Sex' always means 'lesbian sex'... For you there is no other kind... Nothing else makes sense...

"You do not want a man.  A man could never satisfy you.  In fact, men disgust you.  You don't want to marry a man...ever.  The idea of having a home with a man and having his children is repulsive to you...unthinkable...you would never want that.   It is not for you. 

"Nothing could be worth being touched by a man. That would be so degrading... especially when you could be touched by a woman instead.  Sex with another girl is vastly superior to anything you could ever do with a guy."

Wendy's mental defenses were dropping quickly and her brain opening to whatever indoctrination Sarah wished to plant inside it.  For the next few minutes, Sarah's voice assumed the gentle tone of a sympathetic and concerned friend reluctantly offering painfully frank but necessary truth and advice.

"Wendy, do you not now see it?  The reason you have not been able to win Daniel is that you do not really want him...or any other guy.  Boys are attracted to girls who they can tell really like them.  You don't truly like Daniel; you just told yourself you did.  And he could sense that.  He could sense that a relationship with you would never go anywhere.  He probably didn't figure that out intellectually, for boys are not all that smart, but he felt it instinctively.  And so will any other boy." 

"Oh...."

Wendy had not known that.  Though disappointed, she was starting to understand.

"You do not really want a boy.  You want a girl.  You want women.  Because of that, you would never go very far in a relationship with any boy or man; your heart would not be in it, and both of you would realize it.  You might be able to be friends with boys, but never anything more.

"But with girls, it is totally different.  You love being with them, don't you?   Much more than you do with guys.  You know that is true. 

"For example, in all honesty, who would you rather be with right this second, Daniel...or Cynthia?  Who would you rather kiss right now, him...or Madelynn?  Wouldn't you rather kiss her than any boy you can imagine?"

Sarah did not expect a response from the entranced Wendy, but did pause after each question long enough for Wendy to imagine each situation and make a choice in her mind.

"Would you rather talk with a boy...or Rebecca?   Would you rather dance with a boy, any boy...or Lauren?  

"Would you rather look at Daniel...or me?   Whose girlfriend would you rather be?  His...or mine?"

You...Yours... The dreamy answers within Wendy were all easy.

"Wendy, let me explain why you feel like this, okay sweetie?  Females are plants and males are animals...pigs and dogs, most of them.  Animals eat plants.  They chew them up and spit out what's left.  Men do the same thing to women.  They use and abuse and devour and destroy them.  That is simply the nature of men...they almost can't help themselves... just like animals...

"As there are different kinds of plants, women are not all the same, either.  Some are plainer, not so pretty...and some are prudes...  These kinds are like bushes, or stalks of corn, or lettuce plants, or swamp moss, or weeds... They serve a certain function in this world...and the animals can have them... But pretty girls and beautiful women are a special type of plant.  They are flowers...lovely, delicate, fragrant flowers. 

"Animals do not appreciate flowers, but trample and ruin them.  Men and boys do not understand or appreciate attractive women and girls.  It is as impossible for them to do so as it is for pigs to appreciate and enjoy flowers.

"You are a flower, Wendy...a soft, sweet, beautiful flower.  Stay away from the pigs.  Stay away from boys and men.  They will step on you, crush you!...unless you stay away from them.

"
"Flowers belong with other flowers. You belong with other flowers, like yourself, Wendy...with other pretty girls and beautiful women.  You are like them.   You will be safe with them.  You love them.  They love you.  They understand and appreciate you, and your beauty.  You understand and appreciate them, and their beauty.  You love their fragrance.  You enjoy their softness, their hair, their breasts, their beauty...and, especially, their pussies...their soft, juicy, delicious pussies.  

"That is something no man can ever give you, Wendy.  Pussy.  That is what you need above all things...delicious pussy...and only a woman can give you that...

"Wendy
, it is natural for girls and women to be with other girls and women, to love each other, and be involved romantically and sexually, to show and indulge in their affection emotionally and physically...with each other.

"All pretty girls and women belong with other pretty girls and women.  None of them belong with men.  Maybe girls who aren't so pretty can be with guys; men can have the less-attractive women, so they can procreate.   But normally, boys should stick with boys and girls with girls.  That makes sense, doesn't it?"

Wendy nodded vacantly.

"Beautiful women are happy only with other beautiful women. Lesbianism is normal.  It is not normal to be a straight girl, particularly for a beauty like you. For you, heterosexuality is abnormal and deviant.  Lesbianism is right and normal and natural.

"And that is what you have gravitated toward already, quite naturally, Wendy.  All of your friends are lesbians.  Madelynn is a lesbian.  Cynthia is a lesbian.  Lauren is a lesbian.  Tamara is a lesbian.  Rebecca is a lesbian.  All of the women and girls you know and admire and like and want to be like and to be with are lesbians.  Even your own mother, Wendy, is a beautiful lesbian..."

Before the drugged Wendy could process that last claim enough to object, Sarah continued.  "As a pretty girl, you belong with pretty girls and women.  You want them, and they want you.  You want to be like them, want to be with them, want to love them, and want to have sex with them.  With them and only with them will you ever be happy and fulfilled, and find your true love, and find your true self...the beautiful, wonderfully slutty, gloriously lesbian women inside of you that it is your destiny to completely and permanently be.

"Only with another woman will you ever find true love.  Do you want to find true love, Wendy?"

"Yes..."

"You can and you will, dear Wendy.  In the arms of another girl...in the embrace of a lovely woman.  That is your marvelous future. 

"With Lauren...with Cynthia...with Madelynn..."  A smile crept onto Wendy's face.   "...with others..."

Sarah drew closer and whispered,"...with your mother..."  Wendy's pulse quickened and her face flushed.

Then pausing, and with the softest, sweetest whisper, uttered in Wendy's ear, "...with me...."  Sarah licked Wendy's ear and kissed her cheek, and Wendy sighed.  "Ohhhh..."

Letting the erotic possibilities sink in for a moment, Sarah continued:  "To be a queer lesbian girl is your new normal...and you love it.  You feel so free and right about it....So happy with your new, free, sexy, homosexual self. 

"Pussy is now the only thing important to you... You are a pussy-loving girl...a girl for girls...for me...

"You can touch my pussy, Wendy... You want it... It is so close...just waiting for you...for your touch...for your love... My pussy is hot for you...it wants you...wants a pretty lesbian girl to love it...a girl like you...it wants you...

"Now show me how much of a lesbian you are... Kiss me... Love me... Fuck me..."

Sarah raised her right leg and intertwined it with Wendy's left leg.  She placed her lips very close to Wendy's lips and lightly brushed against them, teasing Wendy.  Spurred by sexual need, Wendy kissed Sarah and pressed her tongue deep into Sarah's mouth, in a replay of her assault on Sarah in the pool house only a short time before.

"Fuck me, Wendy," said Sarah as she broke the kiss momentarily with a thread of saliva dangling on the corner of her mouth.

Wendy placed one hand on Sarah's butt then slipped her other hand into Sarah's bikini bottom. The slick material felt nice on her hand and was so miniscule that it offered no significant obstacle to her fingers as they sought and sank into her lovely girlfriend's pretty slit.

Wendy thought lazily how much she liked Sarah's swimsuit...and how much she loved Sarah's pussy. Sapphic lustful desire was growing relentlessly within her.

Repeated moans came from Sarah's mouth as she was being finger-fucked by Wendy. "Oh! More, Wendy. Fuck me harder. Fuck me more." Sarah deliberately gave her statement a cute, pleading tone.

Another finger was inserted into Sarah's pussy. Wendy squeezed Sarah's ass cheeks tighter. Wendy loved the simultaneous feel of Sarah's smooth, round ass and hot womanhood in her hands.  Her mouth moved forward to kiss Sarah again, with tongue insertion, as she closed her eyes, imagining her tongue penetrating Sarah's lovebox instead of her mouth.

On certain occasions Sarah purposely limited how much of herself she allowed Wendy to touch, to keep Wendy always wanting more; this was not one of those occasions, however, at least yet, and Wendy's instinctive response was to take full advantage of it.  It was a body Wendy loved.

Moments later, however, Sarah backed away slowly with her palms gently pressing against Wendy's shoulders.

"No, this is not enough, Wendy. You won't be able to seduce Lauren just by doing this."

"Why not?" asked Wendy with a dreamy look as she tried to move closer to a retreating Sarah. Lust was dictating her actions more than her thoughts. Wendy didn't pay full attention to the issue raised by Sarah.

"You need to do more... Are you a lesbian slut, Wendy?"

"No, I'm... not a slut..."

Even in her dreamy state, Wendy was confused. She stopped pursuing Sarah in the pool.

"You need to become a lesbian slut," said Sarah with an imposing tone as she walked in slow circles around Wendy, toying with her own long blond hair as she moved, to visually tease her drugged girlfriend.

The indoctrination of the preceding 20 minutes had wound itself deeply into Wendy's inner psyche, yet, despite that and the lust for Sarah that was swamping her, her tenacious moral self now emerged and resisted nevertheless, at least for a minute.  "I'm a good girl... I don't... want to be... a lesbian slut..."

Wendy followed Sarah's motions by spinning around on her feet. Her eyes, glazed with lust and drugs, locked onto Sarah's.

"You must, Wendy, if you want to achieve your goal. You don't want to fail, do you?"

"No... I don't want to fail..."

"Then become a lesbian slut!" said Sarah authoritatively and then abruptly stopped moving.  The command echoed with persuasive force into Wendy's brain...especially the final word:  slut...slut...slut...slut... Sarah looked at the maids standing in the distance and nodded. The two maids, who were in their twenties, were each now dressed in an erotic swimsuit parody version of a French maid's outfit, made from PVC. They walked over to the two teenage girls and joined them in the pool.  Despite her woozy state, Wendy inhaled sharply and her eyes dilated when she took in the approach of the two tempting, temptingly-displayed beauties.

"Wendy...this is Kayla...you already know her, don't you? Do you like her?"

"...Yes..." came the simple, honest answer.

"Would you like to get to know her better?"

"...Yes..."

"Do you want to kiss her?"

"...Yes................oh.......wait..........no......."

"You can, Wendy...if you want to...all you want to...and her friend here is Angela...You'll like her, too...very much...

"You can do anything with them that you want to...anything at all... No one will know... They like you...and want you to feel good...and to become a lesbian...a slutty lesbian...like they are...They will help you become a lesbian slut...."

***********************************

In the underground lab below the mansion...

"Mary............... Mary............." 

Wendy's mother was still stretched out on the gurney, to all appearances out like a light.  But Serena's voice reached her mind and Mary, eyes still closed, answered dreamily. 

".............yes..........."

"This is Mrs. Powers.  Serena.  We are friends, you and I.  I like you.  You like me.  You love me.  And you trust me.  What I tell you is absolute truth.  You want to do what I tell you to do.  

"Wendy's on the phone.  She's going to ask your permission to stay here at my house overnight with Sarah.  It's a great idea.  All will be well.  Your reaction is that of course Wendy may stay, and you will tell her so.  Then offer to pick her up tomorrow.  Now wake up enough to sit up and open your eyes, darling."  Mary did so.  "Here, take the phone." Serena unmuted the phone and handed it to Mary.

"Wendy?"

"Hi, Mom, I want to stay overnight." 

"Overnight? That's fine honey. Just give me a call tomorrow, and I'll come over to pick you up."

"Okay, Mom, I will. Thanks a million! Bye, Mom!"

"Bye, Wendy."

Serena took the phone and clicked it off, then drew up a chair next to the gurney and sat down. Mary remained sitting up with her eyes open, staring straight ahead blankly.

"Well, Mary...here we are...two concerned mothers talking about their families.  Shall we continue?"

"...........okay.........."

"Why don't you tell me more about your situation.  How are you doing for money?  Any problems?

"...We...we have enough most of the time.......but..........

"But what?  Is it a little hard to pay all the bills sometimes?"

"Yes...even with our two incomes...  Everything costs so much.  We're helping to support a daughter at college, and even though she has a full-tuition scholarship, her room and board and other expenses add up.  The mortgage payments are high, and somehow we have a lot of credit card debt.  We just can't ever get ahead.  It seems like the money goes out faster than it comes in.  I'm worried that we won't be able to make it..."

"You need to make more money.  Your current employer doesn't pay you enough.  They aren't fair to you.  They don't let you really use your skills.  They have a hostile work environment.  They're sexist.  You get harassed.  You need a better job.  I can help you, Mary.  I'll hire you.  Tell your employer you're quitting and come work for me at Hecate Corporation.  That would be better for you."

"...........oh........."

"How about your husband?  How do you two get along?"

"Bruce...he's been a good husband...and father... We met when we were in high school.  I don't really have any complaints..................Well........I shouldn't...........but....................."

"But what, Mary?  Has he betrayed you?"

"Not...not exactly...not really..........It's just that he....he..............................."

"What does he do, Mary?" 

"Well...he's never there when I need him... He's always gone.  Sometimes I really miss him... I wish he wouldn't leave me alone so much..."

These pieces of information were not surprising to Serena, for a detective in her employ had provided a profile of Mary's family that included reports about both their financial difficulties and the husband's long absences, and Sarah had learned a little about the same things from Wendy, as well.  While Serena had suspected Mary could have harbored some negative feelings about such matters, now she knew it.  These were the perfect things to inflame and to drive as a wedge between husband and wife in Mary's opened mind.

"What does that tell you about him, Mary?  About what kind of man he really is?"

"It...it doesn't feel like he's...like's he's thinking about me...about what I need..."

"You're right.  He only thinks about himself.  He's selfish."

"I...I guess...maybe..."

"Men are selfish, Mary.  Your husband is no different.  He is a selfish bastard.  And he's probably the one who's spending all your money...wasting it all.  What a drag he is to you.  What a worry.

"Do you ever wonder why he spends so much money on his many trips?   What's he buying?............. Is there someone else he's spending your money on?........................ Do you suspect that he has a girlfriend on the side?"

"No...............well..................I hadn't thought of that..................."

"Yes, Mary.  You know in your heart that he is cheating on you.  That's really why he spends so much time away, and is wasting all your money................ He's with another woman right now, isn't he?"

"No........He wouldn't......................Would he?"

"Yes! Mary, he is a man!  Men cheat.  They just do." 

"............but............"

"He doesn't love you any more.............. Probably he never did................ No...for sure... He never did.  He just lied to you about it.  And now he's betrayed you.   It's probably not the first time, either.   This is just the latest of his many infidelities."

"But......I....I trusted him..."

You cannot trust a man for one second.  If you do, they will hurt you every time. Men are slime."

"...slime...?"

"Yes.  Unfortunately, your husband is the same as other men. He is as obnoxious and as false as the rest of them. He is never there for your needs.  He is living his life without you, living selfishly, ignoring what you want, and he's cheating on you.  He's hurting you and he doesn't care.  He thinks you'll never catch on, and even if you do, that you'll just put up with it.  No wonder you are so unhappy with him and with your marriage.  It's no fun being taken advantage of like that, is it, sweetheart?"

Mary continued to stare straight ahead, listening intently to her trusted new friend about the lie that her husband and her marriage had been and that men, in general, are.

"Men are mean, deceitful, unfaithful, and crude. They are worse than garbage. A sweet, pretty woman like you certainly doesn't want to be around one, not any more than she has to.  You shouldn't have to live with one...or be touched by one...ever.  Just thinking about that sickens you.  You are much, much too good, too fine, too beautiful for a man.

"What use do you have for a man, Mary?  Wouldn't you be better off without your husband...without any man?"

".....I...........I don't know.....................................maybe........"

"You do know.  Your husband is a burden, an obstacle, an infected wound, a darkness in your life...as any man would be, as well.  I'm sorry...the truth is painful, isn't it?"  Serena's tone was sympathetic but also firm and assured.  "You know that you will never find happiness or true love with Bruce or with any other man.  It is impossible.  It cannot be, now or ever."  Serena paused to let it sink in.

"You know what you must do, Mary...................... You must divorce your husband!" 

Serena paused again while her words resonated through Mary's mind.

"But there is good news, Mary.  It's not too late.  Happiness is waiting for you to find it. You can still change your life.  There is something better out there for you.  True love awaits you.  To find it, you have to look in the right places.

"Now close your eyes and lie back down, darling."  Robotically, Mary complied.

Serena waited a minute before she spoke again.  While she did, she unbuttoned the closest sleeve of Mary's dress and rolled it up her arm. 

"Do you know who you'd be better off with?  Who would be much nicer to be with?  Who you'd prefer to be with over any stinky old man, any day?"

"..............no..............who........?

Serena slipped her hand softly over Mary's.

"Women...and girls.  Beautiful women...and pretty, sexy girls..." 

Serena traced the back of Mary's hand lightly with her glossy fingenails, then slid her hand and raked her nails slowly along Mary's wrist and up her bare arm.  Through her drugged blur, Mary felt goosebumps from the feminine touch.

It registered on Mary that these were the same red-nailed fingers which had mesmerized her so at dinner, which had touched her hand with such a singular effect during grace, and which had set her imagination wild, causing her to picture them doing exactly what they now were doing.  It was as if, to Mary's altered mind, she had created those mental images because she wanted this to happen, or saw it as destiny.

"...instead of slimy men...lovely females." 

Serena's fingers danced lightly over to Mary's closest breast.  The touch caused Mary to inhale sharply.

"They make much better companions..........and lovers..."

"..........oh...........................really?........."

Serena stood up, leaned over, and kissed Mary on the lips.   There were those slick red lips again.  The ones she had pictured drawing close to hers at dinner, the ones she had finally tasted for the first time upstairs minutes before.  They were like the fragrant, velvety petals of a deeply red rose covered with morning dew.  Her normal analytical powers on hold, the preeminent thing Mary knew at this moment was that she liked those beautiful, soft, succulent lips.  Really liked them.  In fact, she simply loved them. 

"These thoughts excite you, don't they?

"........I...I......."

"Yes...you know they do... I want you to think about them... Every time you do, you will know more surely that they are true...that women and girls are better...better for you...better as friends...better as soulmates...better for love...better in bed...better for sex... softer... nicer...sweeter...tastier...lovelier..........like Wendy.........like me..."  Serena kissed Mary again, longer, and, slipping her hand inside Mary's dress, caressed her breasts through her bra.  Mary moaned almost inaudibly.

When Serena at last broke the kiss, she remained so close that Mary could smell the perfume on Serena's coated lips and feel Serena's soft breath on her face as she spoke. 

"Mary...I saw you looking at my lips tonight...my red, red lips... I know you like them... I knew you wanted to kiss them... We both know that you want to kiss them again...and again and again.  You'll never get enough of my soft, smooth, glossy-red lips.  Keep your eyes closed, my darling, but imagine them, now just an inch or two from your mouth, gleaming with a deep, shiny red color.   These are lips you cannot resist. 

"You also want to have lips like these...to kiss other women...to kiss sexy girls...to kiss Wendy...to kiss me.  You need to wear makeup, heavy makeup, particularly lipstick, lipstick applied thickly, in bright, bold colors, especially beautiful red, so that other women and girls will know that you want to kiss them, so that they will want to kiss you, so that Wendy will kiss you, and so that I will kiss you... 

"During dinner, you thought about me touching you and kissing you...and you wanted it to happen...didn't you?  I love your feelings about me...about another woman...the way you look at me...and love me.  You want me to kiss you right now...such a romantic desire.  I will, sweetheart.  Here..."   Serena met Mary's lips with her own one more time, engaging mouths with passion for a minute, her hand continuing all the while to explore inside Mary's dress. 

Finally breaking the kiss and leaving Mary panting, Serena whispered, "You love kissing women, don't you?  Don't worry, my love.  There will be much more of that."

She paused to let Mary absorb the pleasure and the Sapphic implications of what had just transpired, before resuming.

"Of course, that means you must change.  You must become the kind of woman that other women will want to kiss...will know they must kiss...and touch...and love...  There is a word for that kind of woman, Mary.  You know what it is, don't you?"

Mary again was silent.  But she knew the word.  Mary had heard Serena say it before they had wheeled her out of the dining room.  Serena had told her Wendy was one.  Serena had told her that she, Mary, was going to become one, too.  Mary said the word inside her head.

As if she read Mary's mind, and was answering for her, Serena said, "That's right, darling."  Now she whispered, into Mary's ear, uttering the word as if it were a treasure.  "Lesbian."  There was another pause, while Serena's spoken word confirmed Mary's unspoken thought, making it seem to Mary's loosened mind that to become a lesbian had first been her own idea, before Serena had said it.

"Say it, sweetheart."

".........le........lesbian........"

"That word used to make you uncomfortable, didn't it?  But only because you didn't really understand it...what it really means...what it means for you...what a good thing lesbianism is...how lovely, how perfect it is for beautiful women and girls to love each other...to kiss... to touch...to sleep together... But now you're starting to understand...to see the light... In fact, becoming a lesbian, a pure, devoted lesbian woman, is starting to sound really good to you...becoming a much more comfortable thought... You'll start to see yourself as a woman who could become a lesbian...who would really like that...who wants that...a woman who is becoming a lesbian...a beautiful, fulfilled lesbian...

"Repeat after me, Mary:  Lesbians are happy."

"...Lesbians...are...happy..."

"Lesbian love is beautiful."

"Lesbian love is...beautiful."

"Lesbians are beautiful."

"Lesbians are beautiful."

"Lesbians are sexy."

"Lesbians are sexy."

"I want pretty lesbian women to love me."

"I want pretty lesbian women to love me."

"I want to be a lesbian."

"I want to be a lesbian."

"I want to be a beautiful, sexy lesbian."

"I want to be a beautiful, sexy lesbian."

"Well, then, Mary...if that is your heart's desire, then it shall be so.  And I will help you.  I will help you become the beautiful, sexy lesbian woman of your dreams.  Does that sound good?"

"............yes.........."

"I am going to help you find true love, my dear, sweet Mary. It will not be long before you will take women as your lovers, women of all varieties...including girls...especially girls...pretty teen girls...because you are crazy about cute teen girls...They excite you...sexy, young girls...even Wendy, your own sweet daughter.......... Yesssss.... incest.........with your very own sexy daughter!  Oh, so naughty, Mary!  The very idea thrills you.  Say the word, Mary:  Incest."

"...incest..."

"Incest is beautiful."

"Incest...is beautiful."

Serena found one of Mary's nipples through the material of her bra, and fingered it lightly.

"Incest with my daughter is beautiful lesbian love."

"Incest with my daughter is beautiful lesbian love."

"Beautiful lesbian women have sex with their daughters."

"Beautiful lesbian women have sex with their daughters."

"I want to have sex with my daughter Wendy."

The blonde hostess took the bra-covered nipple between two fingers and squeezed. 

"I...oh!...I...uh...mmmm...I want to have...to have sex with my daughter...Wendy!"

"Yes, Mary, yes you do.  There are many more hot women and pretty girls waiting for you to love them, and to love you, too.  There's me, of course.  You and I have a destiny together, a destiny of love. There's my beautiful daughter Sarah. She has really caught your eye, and maybe even stolen your heart a little, hasn't she?  There's Kayla, my maid.  Isn't she a pretty young woman?  You'd like her.  You two should get together. There are Wendy's girlfriends...hot girls... spicy, sexy, fresh, young girls...Oh, perverted Mary, tsk, tsk, tsk....you so like them like that!............... And there are many others...girls and women you haven't met yet...

"But above all, there's Wendy...your precious girl.  You love her so much.  You've been concerned about her, like the good mother you are.  But I think your worry has been needless.  Let's talk a little more about her, why don't we, and I'll show you what I mean.  We'll just pick up where we left off before, right after dinner. 

"So...because of what I've shown you and told you earlier, you now know what a little slut Wendy is, and that she's a lesbian.  You thought you were shocked to find that out, as well as being worried about her new, sexy style.  But, do you know what?  Actually.., it's all okay. 

"Now you know that it is better for women and girls to be gay.  It is a much better way to live.  Certainly you want that for your own, lovely daughter.  You are relieved to find out she's lesbian.  You would never want a boy to touch her, or for her to be interested in one.  What a terrible fate that would be!  No, no...you want her to be a homosexual girl.  You are glad she is. 

"And a pretty lesbian teen girl like Wendy should be kind of slutty...or even a lot slutty. That's okay.  You actually like her like that.  You prefer her like that.  You understand that it makes perfect sense that she should be beautiful and dress provocatively and play around sexually a lot.  There is nothing wrong with that. 

"And you, yourself, are going to be looser and sexier in your clothes, your appearance, your attitudes, your interests, and your behavior, as well.  You want to keep up with your daughter, now don't you?  You want to emulate her, because you like her tastes, and want to show her that you accept her new ways.  Plus, you want to set a good example for her, and show her the way.  And anyway, it's just the right way, the best way, the only way for a pretty woman like you to be. 

"You'd even like to start trying lesbian porn.  You should.  You know, there's nothing wrong with it nowadays; it's widely consumed, and you'd be missing out if you didn't too.  I bet you've always been curious about books and magazine and videos that show the allure of a sexy woman's body and of two beautiful women or girls having romance and sex.  It's really good.  Imagine it... You're in your room...by yourself... nobody's looking... reading some porn...or watching a spicy video...playing with yourself.... Think of what naughty fun that would be!  And maybe you and Wendy can share lesbian porn...you know, as a mother-daughter pasttime.   Wouldn't that be exciting?" 

Serena paused again, this time pulling down the neckline of Mary's dress and a cup of Mary's bra.  Mary felt the cool air of the room strike the nipple and felt it stiffening in response.  Serena licked it, then kissed it, leaving a bright red lip print, and Mary gasped at the erotic sensation.

"You like pretty teen sluts, cute and sexy lesbian girls just like Wendy is.  You like her dressed sexily, using cosmetics heavily, and talking, acting, and thinking like a slut. You approve.  You are pleased with how sexually curious, open-minded, and how very pretty and foxy she is getting.  It's what you want and insist for her. You want to encourage Wendy to become sluttier, sexier, and more beautiful.  In fact, that is your highest aspiration for your daughter, because those are the most important and desirable qualities for teenage girls, as well as for adult women such as yourself.

"Say it, Mary:  Sexy...slutty...beautiful."

"Sexy...slutty...beautiful."

"I want to be sexy, slutty, and beautiful."

"I want to be sexy, slutty, and beautiful."

"I want my daughter to be sexy, slutty, and beautiful."

"I want my daughter to be sexy, slutty, and beautiful."  Serena rewarded Wendy's obedient mother with another kiss.

"Your hope is for Wendy to be highly sexually active, with both pretty girls and adult women. Naturally you will assist her to do that.  You could buy sexy clothes, cosmetics, jewelry, lesbian porn, and other such things for her.  You could take her shopping, to adult stores, to meet her dates, and out to nightclubs, strip clubs, and parties. You could help her meet girls and women, make suggestions, set her up, and encourage her.  You'd like her to have as many lovely lesbian girlfriends and lovers as possible.  And you'd like to be one of them, her favorite and most passionate one, which you, as her mother, of course should be." 

Serena touched the exposed nipple with her fingertip, and pressed lightly on it, eliciting a quiet moan.

"So you aren't going to worry about Wendy any more.  Certainly you will have no more problem with Wendy dressing provocatively.

"Nor will you have any problem whatever from now on with Wendy and Sarah keeping company.  Thanks to our evening together, you now see what a fine family Sarah comes from and what a wonderful girl Sarah is, especially so because she is beautiful, sexy, and loose, which, as you now know, are the most important qualities for a girl. Sarah is an ideal lesbian lover for Wendy.  They belong together.  You are glad Wendy can have a girlfriend like that, and that Sarah can have a sexy and sexually free girlfriend like Wendy.  You secretly wish you had a girlfriend like that, don't you?"

Mary, her face and her mind equally in neutral mode, didn't answer the question, as it seemed more a statement than an inquiry, but she was absorbing everything nevertheless.

"You will be enthusiastic about Sarah and Wendy being girlfriends and about Wendy spending a lot of time not only with Sarah but with her other girlfriends, as well.  It doesn't matter whether they are teen girls or adult women, or how exotic they may appear.  There is nothing to worry about any of them and their influence on Wendy.  They are worthy, supportive companions for her...a lot of fun...such darling and nice girls.  And hot, too.  That's the best thing about them.  You'd love to get to know them better yourself.  Intimately."

Serena once again pressed her colorful lips to the rising nipple, licked it, and then gently circled around it with a fingernail.  Mary's reaction was louder, freer this time.  "Ohhh!"

"Sometimes Wendy will have to stay out late with her friends, and sometimes she won't even come home at night.  You think that's great.  You understand that extensive dating and late hours are necessary for her to develop her social and sexual skills and relationships.  You want her to have a good time and to expand her horizons."

Serena pulled Mary's bra cup and the front of her dress back into pace.  A mild sense of disappointment registered somehwere within Mary, but then Serena's hand explored up to Mary's face, hair, and neck, restoring welcome affectionate contact.

"Since it is now clear to you that all is well with Wendy and that you have nothing to fear about her, you don't need to remember most of this little discussion we have just had.  You're going to forget about the photos on Sarah's phone and what I told you tonight after dinner about Wendy's sexuality.  When you awake tomorrow, you'll just recall that we had a pleasant chat after dinner about our daughters and that we agreed that they are just good, normal teenage girls, both headed in the right direction, and that we need to be understanding and involved with them and supportive of them. 

"You'll also realize that you are quite dissatisfied with Bruce, that it is he, not Wendy or Sarah, who is the cause of your worries, and that you need to do something about him.   As you ponder what you should do, divorce will come to you as the only possible solution.  Additionally, you'll remember that you're going to start working for me.

"But everything else you've learned about Wendy and yourself and men and female sexuality as you and I have talked tonight you'll simply tuck away in the back of your mind, just beyond your conscious thoughts.  We'll call them your "new beliefs".  For now, you'll still have your "old beliefs", too, meaning your previous, misguided, prudish attitudes about immodesty, lesbianism, and promiscuity being wrong, and at first those will still seem to be what you believe. 

"However, those two sets of beliefs will war within you.  Even now you despise your old beliefs, for they are outdated, narrow-minded, and holding you back needlessly.  But do not fear, for your new beliefs will quickly start to prevail.  Over the next few days, starting right now, and tomorrow, your old beliefs will soften.   You will find that your resistance to lesbianism and overt sexuality won't be what it used to be.  Over the coming days and weeks, the old beliefs will fade and then disintegrate.  You will be happy to be rid of them. 

"All the while, your hidden new beliefs will give you vague but favorable, titillating feelings about Wendy and other desirable females, about sexy appearance, and about female homosexuality.  Bits and pieces of what I have told and shown you will flick across your mind now and then and will contribute to the pleased and exciting sexual impression you have about your daughter, and what you secretly desire for her and for yourself.  Your new beliefs will gradually leak into your conscious thoughts and attitudes and will become clearer to you.  You won't understand what's happening to you, but over time the new values will reign supreme within you, for they are what you now really believe, deep inside.   Your new beliefs will all finally, fully become what you feel, what you embrace, and what you know to be true."

Serena's hand, which had returned to Mary's dress and over the last minute or two had been lightly caressing her breasts and midsection, now gave one of Mary's breasts a last affectionate squeeze and withdrew, only to land on Mary's bare arm and run up and down it slowly.  Allowing a few seconds for the previous directives to digest, she then opened up the last phase of her conversation with Wendy's drugged mother.

"So, Mary...now that that is settled...may I ask you another question or two?  I want you to think back to when you were young...a girl... Did you have a close friend?  I mean another girl. Someone you really liked?"

"....................yes................"

"What was her name?"

"Shelly."

"Tell me about her.  What was she like?  How did you know her?  What happened to her?"

"...We grew up together...went to the same school...played together...lived a couple of blocks apart... We both liked books... She was pretty...had nice, long black hair... But she got a little rebellious...went a little wild...when we were about fourteen... She gave her mom a hard time...wouldn't do her chores right... She had some fights with other girls and was caught smoking pot... She went off to a detention center for juvenile delinquents...  Then her family moved away...  I never saw her again... I heard from someone that she died, though I'm not sure about it...  But I liked her. She was my friend...and I missed her when she left..."

"How about your town....?  Was there any kind of a bad place there, where people did naughty things, somewhere that was forbidden to you?"

"................I don't know........................Wait.........yes....... I remember there was this place on the main street in downtown.  It was a bar or something, where they did what they called "exotic dancing".  A strip club, I guess we'd call it.  They had big, flashy signs and pictures all over the outside. We'd have to drive by it, and when you'd take the bus, it went by it, too, and you'd see it.  My mom told me to look the other way when we went by.  I always did.  Well, almost always..."

"Good, Mary.  There is much more about your past that I am going to help you remember tonight, and there are many beautiful things for you to discover about yourself.  Now, Mary Love-Livingston, go to sleep."

Serena believed in all-out, unrelenting bombardment and in using all the tools in her arsenal to achieve her aims.  She had discovered that various methods of brainwashing used in concert, whether simultaneously or in succession, had a much more profound and permanent cumulative impact than any one by itself, as each method catalyzed and reinforced the effects of the others. Thus, the subliminals and the teasing aimed at Mary earlier this night had softened Mary for Serena's interaction with her under hypnosis just now; and both the subliminals and this treatment under hypnosis, while certainly penetrating in their own right, also served as precursors to open Mary up for the "main event" programming on brainwashiing machines that would now follow and would occupy much of the night. Though the coming treatments would be powerful, their efficacy, experience had proven to Serena, was enhanced when the subject had first been warmed up, at least somewhat, in the real world, through means such as those  employed on Mary thus far this evening. 

Serena pressed her palm on a scanner to activate the computer system. LED lights flashed green on the console. The sounds of humming and revving filled the room as every machine was slowly brought to life. Self-diagnostic tests indicated that the Mind Control Machine, the Dream Inducement Machine, and the Memory Modification Machine were in good working order. They were similar in form, but different in function. 

Mary was methodically stripped of her clothes by the maids. She was then wheeled to the Memory Modification Machine. After being placed on a padded reclining seat, she was then strapped down. One of the many robotic arms sprouting from the edges of the seat moved. It held a syringe that was connected to a supply of a special pink fluid. The unconscious Mary moaned slightly as the needle was pressed into her arm with pinpoint accuracy.

Two robotic cups encased her breasts. A leaf-shaped robotic limb protruded from below the seat and fully covered Mary's groin. Three more leaf-shaped robotic limbs protruded from the head rest and converged on Mary's face, forming an air-tight mask. Countless smaller robotic limbs attached themselves everywhere on the rest of Mary's body. Finally, a spherical high-tech helmet descended on her head, fully encasing it. The machine hummed as it began its work. Mary, who had lived all her life as a heterosexual and with no homosexual desires, was going to be given a lesbian past.

Rays of the afternoon sun shone in Mary's eyes, causing her to look away. Blinking her eyes, Mary realized that she was sitting at the edge of a soft bed. Looking around, Mary was overcome with the feelings of familiarity. It was her own room. It was her parents' house. But something felt strange that she couldn't a put a finger on...

Mary tried to think, but couldn't. Looking at the vanity mirror, she saw herself as a young teenager. All doubts vanished. She was wearing a dark red top with white polka dots and a green skirt. She could see how pretty she was...a pretty blonde girl, with shiny, waist-length hair and bangs, a slender frame which seemed to highlight, by contrast, the emerging, womanly swellings on her chest, and soft, fair unblemished skin. A smile formed on her face. It was nice to be young, and pretty, and free. And to feel her sexuality awakening. To be aware of her young, sweet pussy. Her fresh, little, girlish pussy, waiting for love...juicy and pretty... 

Mary's natural conscience asserted itself:  Wait...what am I thinking...?  But the machine quickly countered, finishing the coloring of her memory to one of peculiar awareness of, curiosity about, and prurient interest in her sexuality and her body's sexual characteristics at that tender age.

She suddenly heard a girl's voice coming from outside the window. Mary looked outside her bedroom window. It was her friend Shelly standing in the front yard.  The machine made her remember her pulse was racing at that particular moment.

"Mary! Didn't you hear the doorbell?!"

Shelly was wearing an orange T-shirt, blue jeans, sneakers, and a red backpack.

"Sorry, Shelly, I was busy with something! I'll go get the door now!"

As Shelly came in and sat down with her in the living room, Mary remembered that Shelly was going to lend her some books, which were the latest romance and fantasy novels. Then they were going to visit a mall that recently opened downtown.  

It was a pleasant experience to sit there with her, Mary now remembered; Shelly had a sweet presence.  She was drawn to Shelly, the machine reminded Mary, and had particularly been attracted since their bodies had started changing in puberty a few years ago.

While Shelly was discussing each of the books briefly, Mary was distracted by Shelly's prettiness.  Instead of listening, Mary drank in Shelly's features, enhanced by the machine in her memory to near-perfection.  There was the pale, clear skin; light green eyes; small button nose; lips accentuated with a touch of light-pink gloss; long, lush, shiny raven hair; and, most engrossing, those quickly-developing breasts packed tightly into the orange T-shirt. 

Mary caught herself checking her friend out...and blushed with guilt...until the machine promptly erased the guilt and corrected her to the effect that there was nothing unusual or improper about it.  Her memory altered to make Shelly's body and beauty the natural and appropriate focus of Mary's attention during Shelly's visit.  So, Mary just couldn't look away from that face, and that hair, and those girlish curves.

Mary reflected, as they sat together, that she was glad they were friends...special, close friends.  I have always liked her. And now that she is 14 and prettier, I like her more.  I hope we can become even closer friends...close girlfriends.  Shelly is such a cute girl...a delicious girl... 

Later they took a bus. Midway through the journey, they passed by a strip club in the busy downtown. A slow red light made traffic crawl in that street block for a long time. In her real memory, Mary hadn't even given the strip club a second glance. It was one of the bad places her mom had warned her about that was full of sin and vice. However, the machine was altering this memory. She was now looking more closely at the features of the strip club, noticing the neon signs, seductive female images behind glass displays, and the vibrant colors. Mary wondered what went on exactly inside that place. Images of naked dancing woman appeared briefly in her imagination.

The machine programmed Mary to believe she had that day decided within herself to visit a place like that and see real strippers perform sometime in the future.

"What are you looking at, Mary?" asked Shelly.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about something."

After visiting several shops, they ended up in a clothing store. They tried on new clothes in the same cubicle of the fitting room together. In the original memory, Mary and Shelly went to different booths. Mary's eyes wandered across Shelly's body, which Shelly didn't mind at all. For some reason, Mary was excited.

At night, the teenaged Mary tossed and turned on her bed, unable to sleep. The images of the strip club and of a partially clothed Shelly in the fitting booth occupied her mind. She briefly imagined Shelly as a stripper striking the same erotic pose as the stripper in the promotional poster of the strip club she had passed by earlier on the bus.

Mary's real conscience poked through for a moment: "No, I can't think of my friend like that!"  That objection was then quickly slapped down with new, intriguing machine-whispered memories, fitted in retroactively:   Shelly had noticed the strip club on the ride home and pointed it out to Mary; had stated that she knew what went on in such places and described it; said that strippers were actually beautiful, admirable, and fascinating women; offered to go to a strip club someday with Mary; said she wouldn't mind being a stripper herself one day; and suggested that maybe Mary could help her by watching her perform in private and giving her feedback, so that she could be ready to perform by the time she turned 18.  Mary was aghast, amazed, and intrigued at Shelly's comments...but, she figured, Shelly had always been a free-spirit...

When they had arrived home, they had gone to Shelly's house and, in Shelly's bedroom, Shelly had playfully performed a rudimentary but titillating strip tease down to her bra and panties, and had included sexy, amorous prattle aimed at Mary, before Shelly's mother had knocked on the closed door and announced through the door that Mary's mother had just called and wanted her home for dinner without delay. 

On the surface, Mary had discounted Shelly's words and acts as mere teen play, though pushing the boundaries of propriety.  But the lovely, daring, exciting Shelly had absolutely captivated a part of Mary in the process, and had left that part hungry for more...more of Shelly...and more of whatever it was that Shelly had...the machine insisted...

Now as she lay in bed and reflected on the events of the day and her feelings for Shelly, Mary's pussy was tingling and she fought her emotions.

She decided to try to clear her mind by reading a novel, and picked up one of the books Shelly had given her. In the original memory, Mary did read a novel that night, but it was just an ordinary heterosexual romance novel for teenagers. The machine altered it into an erotic lesbian romance novel, which wasn't evident until after the first seven pages.

Mary was shocked. Did Shelly give her the wrong book? It must be a mistake. Mary put down the book, almost dropping it. She was going to give it back to Shelly as soon as she met up with her again. Lesbianism was sinful. It was against Christian teachings. On top of that, she was straight, Mary told herself.

But Mary was unable to resist the tingling of her pussy. Her sexual curiosity got the better of her, and Mary picked up the book again, flipping to the page where she had left off abruptly. She lifted up the hem of her nightgown and began fingering her clit--for the first time in her life--at the scene where two teenaged girls were kissing. When she read to the part where the girls were fingering each other's pussy, she could no longer stand the excitement she felt.  Mary dropped the book again after mustering all of her willpower.

"I can't do this. I'm not a lesbian! It's immoral and sinful!"

She returned the novel back to Shelly on the next day, challenging her friend with "Why did you give me this kind of...book?"

"Well, didn't you like it, Mary?"  Shelly touched Mary's hand as she accepted the book, and kept her fingers in contact with Mary's.  They were outside, and the wind blew Shelly's black hair fetchingly around her cute teen face and torso.

"No!" Mary blurted out, out of duty more than conviction.  Shelly took Mary's one hand fully in her two....and Mary did not withdraw...

"Not at all?  Wasn't there some part you liked?"  Shelly took a step closer, until there was only a hand-width between them.  Mary smelled something fresh and clean...Shelly's skin and hair...

Mary looked away, not able to meet Shelly's steady gaze and knowing smile.  "...no," she lied.

"I'm sorry if it wasn't quite your thing.  But you should try something like it again sometime.  I guarantee it will grow on you."  She placed a finger under Mary's chin, lifting it until Mary's eyes met hers.

"And thank you for being my dear friend...Mary."  With that, Shelly leaned in and kissed Mary on the lips, before parting.

It was Mary's first kiss.  She had always imagined it would be from a boy.  But it was from a girl, instead.  A very pretty girl.  One she really liked.  It had been soft and sweet.  And wonderful...

According to the machine's implantation, after that Mary had a heightened interest in pornographic literature, but only that featuring lesbian themes. She never acted on that interest, but from time to time she thought about the contents of Shelly's book she had read, wondered what the rest of the book must have been like, and wondered about what other similar books might be out there somewhere.

The machine also recolored her mind so that she remembered never having had as pleasant a kiss over the rest of her life after that as she had that day and subsequently from Shelly. Certainly not from any male.  No, the ones from males weren't even close.  Not even from her husband.  Particularly not from him, it was now her distinct recollection.  Kissing a man was like kissing dust, especially when compared to the flower that Shelly's kiss was.

Several days later, Shelly invited Mary to watch a movie at her home, for a time when her family would all be gone.  Shelly's family had just bought the latest VHS system and rented a bunch of movies. It was a Western with cowboys and the like. The memory of it was changed to a pornographic movie, which nature, as in the case of the book, wasn't obvious at the onset.  It was mostly soft-core, except for a harder edge in the final scene, and had a plot which pulled Mary in.

When the action became too ribald to ignore at about the fifteen-minute mark, Mary declared, "We shouldn't be watching this!  This is worse than the book you gave me!  I thought I told you how I felt about this kind of thing.  And my mom says these types of movies are very bad, too!  She would never let me watch bad stuff like this."

"Well, Mary...your mom isn't here, is she?  No one will know, Mary.  It's just us two girls...you and me.  You've got to live a little, sweetie!  Come on, just give it a try...for me.  Pleeeaasseee.   I bet you end up liking it!"

Mary debated inside herself briefly.  Against her better judgment but wanting to please her cute friend, she finally agreed. "Well...ok...but just this once!  And it had better end up being something worthwhile!"

"Yaaahh!  You won't be sorry!  Thank you, honey!!"  Shelly hugged Mary enthusiastically and kissed her exuberantly on the cheek three times and on the lips once, before they settled down on the sofa to continue.  Mary was glad Shelly seemed to like her so much, that she had pleased her, and, especially, that she had been kissed again, although she wasn't sure if she had made the right decision to proceed with the movie. 

The first third of the movie, 30 minutes or so of it, they both watched with half-hearted interest.  Despite the engaging plot, it had all straight sex scenes; that aspect was not appealing to Mary and she regretted having agreed to watch it.  She was at the point of telling Shelly that she had changed her mind. 

After that, however, it was almost non-stop lesbian sex...and Mary, per the machine-implanted memory, started to find the movie suddenly much more interesting.  In fact, the machine told Mary, she found the second two-thirds of the movie so thrilling that she would welcome future encounters with lesbian porn, if the opportunity came her way.

The plot was simple: A group of twelve high school teenagers, who were all friends of each other, went to check out a reportedly haunted area in the woods on the weekend. After reaching the site and encountering nothing unusual, male-female couples in the group started having sex to relieve boredom.

One girl didn't give up looking for the haunted area. She searched around and found something sparkling on the ground nearby. Using a stick, she dug out a glowing pink cylindrical crystal. The spirit in the crystal controlled her and made her control her friends. While the guys stood on the lookout in a zombie-like state, every girl paired up with another for lesbian sex. In the last scene, it was a group lesbian orgy with the main female character pushing the pink crystal into her friend's pussy with her mouth.

Shelly started stripping her clothes off as soon as the lesbian action began, shocking Mary.

"What are you doing?"

While giggling, Shelly said, "I thought you liked it when I did this before...didn't you, Mary?"

"No...well...maybe...but...why are you doing it now?"

"To get my rocks off!  You know...so I can play with myself, while watching these hot girls do their thing.  Don't tell me you haven't done this before!"  Shelly was now completely naked.

"No, not like this. It's forbidden!" Even as Mary was saying that she was staring at her friend's body. Her words were contradicted by the tide of desire for Shelly that was rapidly swelling within her.

Shelly starting stroking her vagina, drawing Mary's rapt attention. "It's more fun to do it while watching a porno... Uhhh.... Uhhh..."

Mary's eyes were drawn back to the lesbian scene on the TV.   At the moment, two striking blond teens were rolling around on grass, clad only in miniskirts, making out and feeling each other up frantically.  Almost automatically, and despite her denials to Shelly, Mary's hand found her pussy beneath her skirt, and she began stroking her clit after pushing her panties aside.

The action progressed and one scene of girl-on-girl love succeeded another.  Occasionally, Mary's eyes wandered from the TV screen to the naked body of her friend.  Mary felt herself magnetically drawn to that lithe, smooth, curvy young body and, acting on sheer carnal instinct, she tried to move closer to Shelly. It didn't take long for Shelly to notice and react by also moving close to Mary, until the nude, dark-haired teen enchantress was thigh-to-thigh and hip-to-hip with Mary.   Finally, Shelly placed a hand on Mary's shoulder and the two friends turned toward each other.

The movie now all but forgotten, and essentially over anyway, each girl stared nervously, longingly into the other's eyes, and at her friend's lips.  Their heads slowly drew closer, until Shelly's lustrous, long black hair mingled with Mary's long blond hair, fell over Mary, and surrounded her face and torso with a dark, silky, freshly-fragrant waterfall.  Their lips drifted dangerously close, and flirted for an intense minute. As if called by destiny, they at last fully kissed each other, this time in clear-cut homosexual passion, and started making out. 

Shelly's right hand found Mary's breast while the other joined Mary's fingers in stroking Mary's pussy. Mary felt herself being entranced by the action and her affection for her friend deepening by the moment.

Finally pulling her lips away from Mary's, from a black velvet pouch Shelly pulled out a lengthwise piece of pink quartz crystal.  Remembering the similar crystal in the movie, and its employment, Mary widened her eyes.  Shelly placed it between her lips and, while maintaining eye contact with Mary, licked it, sucked it, and pushed it into her mouth.  She then pulled it out and shared the crystal with Mary, who did the same action with her own mouth, tasting and slurping in Shelly's saliva--which, the machine impressed upon Mary's mind, was a sweet delicacy she wanted much more of. 

After Mary was done with it, Shelly slowly traced the crystal down from her cleavage to her clit, spread her legs wide for the mesmerized Mary, and rubbed it between her labia.

"Uhhhh... Ohhhh... Oh, Great Sapphic Spirit, please grant me pleasure!" exclaimed Shelly melodramatically.

Mary giggled.  She loved how playful, pretty, and sexy Shelly was, all at the same time, the machine insinuated to her.

The quartz crystal, wet now with pussy juice, was leisurely raised to Mary's hesitant lips.  Overcome with curiosity, Mary slowly extended the tip of her tongue and gave the tip of the pink crystal a lick.  It was tasty.

"Dear Sister, the Great Sapphic Spirit welcomes you as a new acolyte!"

The blond teen wrapped her lips around the long crystal, savoring the pussy juice of her friend.  The machine gave her the memory that, as good as Shelly's saliva had tasted, this was a whole new world of delicious enjoyment.  She recognized this as something she would want to taste again and again.  Mary closed her eyes and sucked in bliss.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm..."

The door to Shelly's room opened with a loud slam. "WHAT ARE YOU TWO GIRLS DOING!" exclaimed Shelly's mom, whose face instantly reddened with anger.

Mary and Shelly were forbidden from ever seeing or contacting each other again. Shelly's parents even enlisted the help of a student at the school, the daughter of a trusted friend and neighbor, to ensure that the prohibition was followed at school. Both girls were saddened at the enforced separation. When Mary heard that Shelly's family was going to move to a state faraway, Mary almost cried.

In the real memory, Shelly's mom was just mad about Shelly over a chore done wrong. The separation happened because Shelly had been sent to a juvenile detention center for being caught smoking weed and getting into a fight with some people.

By pure chance, the female student who was monitoring Mary and Shelly fell ill and stayed home on the day before Shelly's family was going to move to another state. This gave Mary and Shelly a chance to meet each other again.

"I have something special planned for tonight," Shelly smiled lovingly. "I'll be outside your house at midnight. Be ready to go out."

"Alright, Shelly. I'll be ready."

At midnight, Mary snuck out of the house and met up with Shelly at the curb of the street. Shelly was driving a car she borrowed from another friend. Neither 14-year-old girl cared that Shelly was too young to have a driver's license; if anything, it added to the illicit, exciting atmosphere of this night. They went to a secluded spot in the hills. The moon was full and very bright that night.

As soon as they got out of the vehicle, they began kissing and groping each other with need. In the real memory, it was nothing sexual. They just had a long conversation and Mary was persuaded to smoke a little weed, which Mary later decided wasn't really for her.

"Mary, can you take my virginity?"

"But, it should be saved until marriage."

"Please, Mary. It's the last time I will be with you. I want tonight to be memorable for both us."

"Ummm..."

"I love you, Mary."

"Shelly... I... love you too. I'll do it for you."

The two girls stripped down to nothing. Shelly directed Mary to sit on the hood of the vehicle. After putting Mary's legs over her shoulders, Shelly began eating her friend out. Initially, Mary was afraid and hesitant. The ingrained knowledge of homosexuality being a sin and sex before marriage was wrong still affected Mary's emotions and actions.

But, after experiencing the first few licks from her friend, she relaxed and began to enjoy it immensely. She instinctively moved her inner thighs until they touched Shelly's cheeks.  I can't believe having my pussy licked by a girl would feel this good... Every lick made her love Shelly more...and made her love girls, a little more with every swipe and thrust of Shelly's tongue. This was fulfillment like none other she had ever conceived.

The positions were then reversed, and Mary performed oral sex on a female for the first time. She now clearly knew that she ravenously loved the taste of pussy, particularly the tender, sweet pussy of a young teen girl, and would never be able to get enough of it. She knew she would crave it from then on.

Shelly then retrieved the strap-on from the car's trunk and helped Mary put it on. The whole strap-on was shiny white in color, including the harness. Kneeling downward, Shelly enveloped the white strap-on with her lips and sucked on it sensually. While deep-throating the white latex member, Shelly squeezed Mary's buttocks. 

Wearing a phallus like this was highly disorienting for Mary, in a most thrilling way.  She felt dizzy, dizzy  with a sense of power--power to please and to pleasure her girlfriend, the girl she loved--and with a sense of entitlement to the pussy of her friend.

Shelly got up and spread her legs for Mary on the hood of the car.  Shelly's lovebox glistened wetly in the moonlight, the moist, virginal lips gaping slightly open, as if calling for Mary's pseudo-penis. Shelly gave Mary a come-hither look and beckoned with her finger.

Mary grazed her fingers along Shelly's thighs, sending shivers up Shelly's spine.  A girlish gasp which thrilled Mary's ears and heart escaped from Shelly's lips as Mary touched Shelly's pussy lips with the tip of the dildo.

"I love you, Mary."

Mary's heart raced when she comprehended that statement, and as she realized she was about to penetrate the girl with whom she was in love.  The machine continued to dictate her emotions:   I love girls.  I want girls...only girls...forever... I want Shelly... I want to fuck Shelly...I love Shelly...I love her because she is a pretty teenage girl...I love teenage girls...I want to fuck girls... A bright light suddenly flashed on them. "STOP!! You two little whores! Don't move!!"

Shelly's mother had tracked them down and prevented the consummation of their love in the very moment it was about to happen.

Shelly was kept secluded, Mary was punished by her parents and subjected to a series of stern lectures by their minister, and, despite her now-deep longing to make love to Shelly--or some other pretty girl, if it could not be Shelly--she was forced to disavow all interest in possessing, much less fulfilling, such a desire.

About a month after Shelly moved away with her family, Shelly died in a car accident--in which she was the underage and quite illegal driver.  Mary was distraught when she first heard of the news. A feeling of guilt washed over Mary. She had sinned with Shelly and this was God's punishment. She felt she was partly responsible for her friend's death. Though the sweetness of her attraction to Shelly and the beauty of their transgression lingered darkly in Mary's soul, Mary made a solemn promise that she would become a good Christian again.

The altered memories of Mary's teenage years would at first be hidden from Mary's conscious mind and wouldn't emerge until certain conditions were met. Then, it would be impossible for Mary to denounce Wendy's lesbian behavior, if she decided to, without confronting her false lesbian past.

Serena typed on the console and advanced the time frame of Mary's memories to the present. The machine gave her false memories of having had erotic dreams of women and girls for the past week, but the content of the dreams wasn't explicit.

Mary's memories of what happened after dinner were also changed, compatible with Serena's instructions to Mary while she was in a receptive, drugged state prior to being hooked up to the Memory Modification Machine. The discussion involving their daughters now ended amicably for both sides.  They had agreed that nothing their daughters were doing was that terrible, after all, and, in fact, most aspects of their style and conduct was not only normal for teenage girls, but actually reasonably tasteful, positive, and even rather cute. Any blame for whatever minor misbehavior of which they might be guilty, if one could call it that, was attributable to unpredictable teenager hormones, over which the girls had no control, of course, and to their understandable desire to conform to cultural trends.  Their behavior was just a normal part of growing up. 

Thus, it was made clear to Mary's mind, there was no sinister cadre or conspiracy. Sarah and Wendy were simply. acting mostly on their own volition and making their own individual choices. The mothers concluded together that the girls had the right to choose for themselves what friends they would have, what appearance they wanted, and what they would do in their free time. 

The two women concurred, so the new memory went, that the best approach was to have regular discussions with their daughters about their concerns, as they might emerge, but there was no point in lecturing, coercing, or disciplining them, as the girls would ultimately figure out the most favorable direction for them without that. It was important to be tolerant and not to judge their daughters from the perspective of an older generation, but to spend more time with them, try to understand them and their viewpoint, and to love them for whoever they were and whatever destiny they chose for themselves.

Mary's new memories, building on the earlier brainwashing, further erased her concerns about Sarah, and left her with the surety that Sarah had consistently been a good influence, that whatever Sarah and Wendy did together or with their girl friends was to Wendy's benefit, and that Mary could feel good about consenting to it all.

On the other hand, Mary now would instead "remember" having worried about her husband, more than about Sarah and Wendy--about his neglect and failures as Wendy's father and as her husband, both in connection with his many long absences but also simply because he was a man and, like most all other men, had a selfish streak and a sneaky disposition.  She would feel she now had learned from her experiences and deliberations that she didn't like and couldn't trust men as much as she used to, and that she had lately concluded there was perhaps a need to protect both Wendy and herself from boys and men.

In the new memory, Serena also offered Mary a job as an accountant, and Mary accepted the offer despite already having a similar position at another company. Mary was told to call Hecate's HR to schedule an appointment for an interview.  Further, Serena had expressed interest in socializing more with Mary in the future, both as a foursome with the girls as well as the two of them alone.  That could include, if Mary were amenable to it, a mini shopping spree, at Serena's treat, similar to what Sarah had given to Wendy, so that Mary could update her wardrobe with a few more "modern" items, which would help her better relate to Wendy and secure Wendy's admiration.  

Mary's memory would tell her that Mrs. Powers was a helpful, wise, and trustworthy new friend...not to mention one of the most attractive, sensual women she had ever met...one who had struck her quickly as an ideal woman...a woman whom it would be good to emulate...one about whom she felt a mysterious fascination and excitement, one whose company she enjoyed immensely, and one she looked forward to seeing again as soon as possible. 

Additionally, Serena had offered to Mary, in the fabricated memory, access to her maids and other staff, to various facilities, such as their pool, and to services provided by a range of professionals Serena retained.  As "proof" that she had not imagined this offer, when Mary next looked in her purse she found business cards Serena had supposedly given her for some of these service providers, which included cards for a masseuse, a spa, a physical trainer, a beauty salon, a tailor, a psychotherapist specializing in mother-daughter counseling, and a lawyer whose specialties, per the card, included divorce cases, child custody issues, and gay/lesbian marriage, adoption, discrimination, and other related matters. 

Though Mary was socially liberal, it was counterbalanced by her religious inclination. After using the first machine and learning more about Mary's strong mental and moral character, Serena determined that influencing Mary's mind would require more effort than she had at first supposed, and that it would take at least one very strong induction, followed by a series of supplemental inductions, in order to put Mary under the same level of control as Wendy. Her calculations were aided by the fact that data gained from past induction attempts on other subjects had reduced the variables that Serena had to take into account, getting her ever closer to perfecting the process.

The reclining seat where Mary was resting moved on a pair of tracks to the Mind Control Machine.

This devise would assault Mary with a different approach than she had experienced thus far in the evening. The subliminals had slipped ideas and images into the back of Mary's mind, faintly, unnoticed, with subtlety; the trance-like, hypnotic state had permitted Serena to bypass Mary's defenses, to converse with Mary's subconscious mind openly and directly, and to feed indoctrination, experiences, and suggestions straight into it with little to no resistance; and the Memory Modification Machine had specifically targeted and acted on the memory regions of the brain.  But the Mind Control Machine would speak to and interact with Mary's normal personality and thoughts, inside her head but as if she were quite awake and as if her normal defenses and inhibitions were more or less intact. It would instill a series of visions which would strike her psyche as being clearer and more real than routine dreams and would likewise effect her more deeply and permanently. The machine would challenge her defenses, inhibitions, and values head-on--reading her beliefs and objections and sensing her resistance, then attacking them precisely and relentlessly--so as to soften, weaken, discredit, and, in the end, ruin them, which was one of this machine's main functions and values. While the machine worked on her mind, emotions, and core values, it also played on and in her body, fondling and probing and drugging her into physical stimulations ranging from titillation and ecstasy to deprivation and pain, all in synchony with its mental manipulations, training into her potent new automatic responses and cravings, creating corrupted connections between the mind, emotions, and body.

She received another injection of the pink fluid. Countless metal plates with stimulatory pads attached to her body, forming a full body suit. Robotic phalluses moved close to the openings in Mary's body, ready to penetrate the woman whenever the program called for it. The helmet encasing Mary's head hummed with power. Mary's heterosexuality was going to be destroyed, then she would be remolded as a lesbian, or at least as close to being lesbian as was possible in this session tonight.

However, Serena wasn't going to stop there. Her plan was to ultimately transform Mary into a model lesbian, completely steeped in sin and vice, with an insatiable appetite for lesbian sex. As Serena had promised a drugged Mary earlier in the evening, Mary would eventually want to have sexual relations with her own daughter, as well as with other females.

A feminine pair of glossy red lips appeared in Mary's mental vision.

"Lesbian..."

The lips moved sensually.

"Become a lesbian..."

"No..."

The image of lips was replaced with a pair of strikingly blue feminine eyes.

"Become a lesbian, Mary..."

"No..."

"The only acceptable answer is yes, Mary Love-Livingston."

"I'm not a lesbian."

There was a flash. A young, teenaged female angel appeared hovering in front of Mary. She had on a sheer white corset, sheer white skirt, and sheer golden lingerie beneath. The whole outfit glittered magically with each movement made by the angel. Mary could, without any difficulty, make out the young angel's hot-pink nipples and her hairless vagina through the sensual apparel. A pair of white dove-like wings sprouted from her back. A golden halo hovered on top of her head. Platinum blonde hair flowed down to the small of her back.

"God wants you to become a lesbian," said the female angel commandingly through glossy pink lips.

"I need to become a lesbian? But, why?"

"You need to become a lesbian for your daughter. If you love your daughter, you will become a lesbian for her."

"I can't love Wendy in that way!"

"You must love and desire your daughter sexually. Let me show you your true path!"

The female angel held Mary's cheeks with both pink-nailed hands and kissed her lavishly on the lips. Sexual arousal surged through Mary's body. Mary whimpered and moaned at the onslaught of induced pleasure. Her tongue struggled feebly against the warm moist tongue that invaded deep into her mouth.

"Do you not feel pleasure from this?"

Mary was sexually stimulated by the machine through direct physical contact on her body and stimulation of her brain.

"Yes, but..."

"Then the pursuit of these sexual feelings will be the means to your destiny and goal."

Mary appeared sitting in front of a vanity mirror staring at herself with a dreamy look. She was completely naked. 

In real life Mary had avoided being naked as much as possible, even by herself or with her husband, which reflected the ways of her Midwest farmer parents.  There was no dilly-dallying getting in and out of a shower or bath and changing clothes, and certainly no immodest lingering in front of a mirror.  She'd had sex with her husband, of course, but it had always been lights off, under the covers, without more than a modicome of visual revelation.  Her husband, being from a similar background, never complained.

Though Mary's memories had been successfully tampered with by the first machine, her basic core values in the present, including her sense of modesty, were largely the same as before. The first incursion of the Mind Control Machine had encountered even stronger resistance than expected, so it had backed off to try another track.  This would be a softer approach, plying her mind more incrementally to start.

Mary had never before allowed herself this luxury, of sitting leisurely in the nude in front of a mirror.  Seeing herself like this was totally novel, and a shock...at first.  The machine allowed her to stare for a while, and accustomize to the view, and then mellowed her reaction to one of curiosity...then interest...

At last she realized, consequent to the machine telling her so, that she did not mind being naked.  Actually...she liked it.  She was beautiful...her body was voluptuous...so why not?  She enjoyed looking at herself like this.

The machine steered her:  The more she looked, the more she liked...herself, her face, her breasts, her waist, her skin, her hair, her shapely womanliness...as never before. 

Her focus settled on her breasts...admiring their shape...delighting in their large size...drinking in the dark color and impertinent thrust of her nipples.  Never had they sang to her like this.  Would they to...others?  if they saw her...like this...? 

The machine suggested questions to ask herself and sensations to feel.

The impression grew within her of the power of her beauty and her body...to charm...to attract...to seduce.  It was a new feeling for her...and intoxicating...

Why have I never done this before?  looked at myself like this?  enjoyed my feminine allure?  revelled in my nakedness...?

But...something was missing...some untapped potential...something important was needed...something more...something new...something wonderful...something she had to do...but what...?...

"You want to look beautiful and sexy in order to seduce other females... in order to seduce your daughter... Anything that makes you beautiful and sexy will help you pursue your lesbian dreams and desires..."

The part about her daughter and lesbianism went through on this pass less digested than the part about being sexy.  Of course... What I lack...what I need...what I want...is to be............sexy.........

That again was a brand new concept for Mary, about herself.  But it struck her, thanks to the workings of the machine, like a glorious revelation.

Visual imagery flashed rapidly in Mary's mind:  Applying lipstick on lips, painting nails, putting on black mascara, applying eye shadow, wearing sexy lingerie, putting on sheer stockings, slipping her feet into high heel shoes, wearing jewelry, red-nailed fingers caressing a shiny red strap-on, red lips licking shiny red anal beads...

Then, Mary's mind instinctively tried to press back, and resist the on-rushing images and impressing impulses, but the machine forced her mind back to its program. There was no escape.

"Beauty and sexiness are the same thing...They always go together.  They can't exist seperately.  You can't be beautiful without being sexy...very sexy...and slutty.   Without deep lipstick and nail polish, without heavy makeup, without revealing dresses and skirts and blouses and other slinky, slutty clothes, without high, high heels and silky nylons all the time--without all this, you will be too plain; you cannot attract the women you want...nor the lovely teen girls you crave...You wouldn't be good enough, pretty enough, for your daughter, your dear daughter, whom you want to please and attract.  You have to be hot for her.

"You want to be truly beautiful...sexy beautiful...slutty beautiful...the only real kind of beauty...Give in...be sexy..."

Only when I am sexy...will I be truly beautiful.... and only then can I pursue my dreams...of........... What was it that I want to be?.........

"You want to be a lesbian...because you like other women...beautiful, sexy women...and girls....pretty young girls...like Wendy.... You are curious about romance with them...You always have been...Touching and kissing and loving another woman...and teenage girls...the mere thought is exciting to you...It is a naughty and wicked and thrilliing secret desire hidden inside of you.  It has always been there, waiting for you to waken to your true self.  You want to try it.  The idea sounds wonderful to you...because loving another woman...or girl...is wonderful...

"When you are sexy, other women and girls and your daughter will want you...You can seduce them....When you are beautiful and sexy you can be a lesbian....You dream of being a lesbian...a beautiful, sexy lesbian woman...a sexy, seductive lesbian mother..."

Oh...................Maybe........maybe...that would be...good..........  sexy...and............ lesbian.......... Perhaps... I should.............I might... like that...................But.....I want to...do what?........seduce...?....... whom ........?.......surely not........she's not a......not Wen-- "Seduce your daughter... Make her a lesbian...like yourself...Become your daughter's lover...As a sexy and beautiful lesbian mother you can...you should...Incest is desirable... Incest with your daughter is necessary...to protect her from predatory males...and to make her happy...to make yourself happy...You must...You should... Incest is love...pure love... the only true love... the best love...motherly love... Offer your daughter your love, your body, and your lust..."

Mary's subconscious reaction was to oppose those statements, but her mental defenses were strongly suppressed as lesbian desires were implanted in her mind.

"............But...................incest.........is.........wrong..........................isn't it.......?"  

"Who says it is, Mary?  Some other people...? prudes...?  Why do you care what they think?  What prudes think doesn't matter to you.  You know better.  You are an independent-minded, free-thinking woman.  And, more important, you are a devoted mother with your own instincts.  They are just as good as anyone else's.  Trust them.  And yours tell you that you should love your daughter in every way possible.  In a sexy way.  When a pretty woman such as yourself, a wise and fearless woman, has such a pretty and sexy daughter like Wendy, your love not only can be sexual and romantic, it must be. Beautiful incest with your daughter is the highest form of parental love between mother and daughter... It is pure love, pure lesbian love... It is the best love you could offer to your daughter... It is something that you definitely want.  You would be negligent in one of your highest duties and missing out on one of the most precious opportunites and sweetest enjoyments you will ever have if you deny yourselves this love.   

"There is no need to deny yourselves this beautiful pleasure, and this higher form of love.  If you do, you'll both go mad with desire.  No, Mary Love-Livingston...you must have your daughter...you must commit incest with her.  It is your destiny.  You must.  You can't resist...You desire your daughter's body... You want to have sex with your daughter...It is God's will...You want to fuck your daughter..."

For the time being, Mary's initial strong aversion to the duel vices of female homosexuality and incest was starting to soften, by the machine taking Mary through gradual stages, starting with something easier for her to swallow than was the case with the first scenario.  This time, it had first broken down her distaste about a sexy personal image, to which she certainly had less aversion than to incest.  Next it had suggested a new concept of beauty and then had tied that to lesbian love; and from there the advance to the merits of incestuous lesbian love was more palatable.  The horrific, staunch refusal she displayed in the first scenario was starting to melt, in this solo bedroom vision, into blushing acknowledgement that such things could possibly be interesting, something she might entertain, and maybe should do.  All of the subliminals over the evening had also, of course, loosened Mary's receptivity up for this. 

This was starting to make sense...and sound good. The door was beginning to crack open.

More visual imagery flashed in Mary's vulnerable mind:  Red-nailed fingers grazing a leg encased in sheer red fishnet stockings starting from the red high heels; a shiny solid red dildo protruded from between red lips; a red satin bra cup being pulled down, revealing a nipple and areola painted in bright red; a red-lipped mouth grasping on red anal beads and pulling them slowly from a girl's anus; red lips licking red-nailed toes; a solid red double dildo protruding from a pussy...

"Serena Powers will guide you to your goal... Trust and obey Serena Powers... She will help you become a lesbian... Trust and obey Sarah... She will help your daughter become a lesbian..."

"Serena Powers will help me become a lesbian..." repeated Mary in a dreamy voice.

"Exactly," said the authoritative female voice.

An image of Sarah making out with Wendy appeared. They were both naked and sitting together on a bench in the girl's locker room.

"Sarah will help my daughter become a lesbian..."

"You are correct."

The machine rewarded Mary with thrilling sensations of pleasure.

"I need to become a lesbian," said Mary in a droning voice.

"YES!"

Mary said what the machine had manipulated her to say. They would become truths buried in her subconsciousness. Her conscious mind wouldn't admit them immediately, but she would gradually accept them over time through further mental manipulation, which would be ceaseless until she was fully converted.

Another surge of pleasure filled Mary's mature body. "Uhhhhh... Ahhhhh... Ohhhh!"

Pulsating red light filled Mary's vision. Something cool and silky touched her right leg, sending a surprising delight into her skin.  It started to slowly move around, but it was not visible to Mary, for her vision was obstructed by red light. A feminine gasp accompanied it. She squirmed, but this action only seemed to invite even more soft entities to glide onto her body. There was a feminine moan. One smooth serpentine object slid around on her left leg, followed by another one on her right thigh, and another around her waist. Several wrapped around her breasts.

The intimate invasion of the slithering, silky items felt wonderful on Mary's naked body, and stirred her emotions.  Moans and gasps sounded more frequently. Mary joined her own to them. Very quickly her entire body was overwhelmed with invisible, soft, sleek, swirling, enthralling objects.

Suddenly, all movement ceased.  Blinding redness disappeared from her sight and all sounds stopped. A full-body mirror materialized in front of her.

Mary drank in her sensual appearance with surprise and arousal. She was dressed in red lingerie, a full-length sheer red dress, and red high heels. Her ears, arms, and neck were adorned with ruby and silver jewelry. A glossy red color covered her lips and now-long nails. Her eyelashes were long and curly, thickened with black mascara. Her hair was styled into a braided crown.

"This is me?" asked Mary as she touched her own curves through her new outfit.

"This is the real you, Mary...the enticing woman you are inside...the tempting woman you want to be...a lesbian...a loose and sexy woman...beautiful for other women...for Wendy ...a lover for women and pretty teen girls...This is your destiny, Mary..."

Two new but familiar female voices, speaking in unison, now interjected into the scene: "Offer your body to us, Mary Love-Livingston..."

Mary turned her head in the direction of the voices.

Standing to one side of Mary were Sarah and Serena. They were wearing sheer black sleeping gowns. Beneath the gowns were black PVC bras and thongs, matching the color of the high heels they wore. The high gloss of the PVC gave the lingerie a mirror-like appearance.  The subconscious lust for each of them engendered by the subliminals at dinner in real life earlier in the evening now stirred anew within Mary.

Shelly appeared, just as Mary had remembered her when she had last seen her friend in their early teen-aged years.

"Shelly?"

"Do it, Mary. Give in to them. They know what's best for you."

Real memories of friendship mixed with machine-implanted recollections of sexual attraction to and indulgence with Shelly propelled Mary to walk a few steps towards her youthful friend, but Shelly backed away quickly.

"Shelly, wait! Please come back! I'm sorry!" 

A wide column of pink light shot down towards Shelly from above. Her entire body glowed with bright pink luminescence for a few seconds before the pink light disappeared completely, leaving Shelly in a sensual outfit. Shelly seemed to be a year or two older, confident in bearing, wordlier in her countenance, even prettier, and definitely more "filled out", if not outright "stacked", but still very much a teen. 

Mary's eyes appraised the newly dressed, newly minted Shelly starting from the feet.  A feeling of lust gave warmth to her loins.

Encasing Shelly's slender legs were see-through pink PVC, front-laced, knee-length high-heeled boots. A see-through pink PVC ruffled mini-skirt hugged her hips.  Her shaved young pussy could be seen through the skirt clearly. Further up was a see-through pink PVC front-laced corset with a low ruffled neckline that exposed the soft belly and a decent amount of cleavage. The nipples on Shelly's teen breasts were visible through the translucent material. A pink metallic heart hung from her navel. See-through pink PVC arm gloves ran the length of Shelly's lower arms. A glossy rose color adorned Shelly's smiling lips, fingernails, and toenails. Metallic hoop earrings hung from her ears. With the part at the center, her smooth, flowing, bangless raven hair cascaded half way down her back.

In response to this vision, the fullness of Mary's supposed long-buried homosexual feelings for Shelly, as instilled by the Memory Modification Machine, flooded back into her.  Her pussy started to drip as the machine pleasured her, teaching her mind and body that this type of girl--a loose, sexy, pretty, made-up, erotically-dressed girl--was what she wanted, above all things and at any cost.

Is this what Shelly would have become if she had lived?  If we could have been girlfriends?  And fulfilled our love?  I could have had this girl as my own?  Can I now?  Oh, please don't let it be too late..."  Mary wanted desperately to hold and kiss and love her sexy teen friend again.  Especially this version of her. 

Mary remembered the frustration she had felt as a fourteen-year-old in not being able to complete the act of lesbian intercourse with Shelly.  Looking at this dreamy girl, she burned with desire for that consummation.  At all costs.  Would this be her chance?  Finally? 

"I have realized my true destiny a long time ago. Now it's time to realize yours!"

A large golden gate appeared and Shelly walked through it into the void.

"Shelly, please wait!"

"MARY LOVE-LIVINGSTON! Listen to Shelly! Don't deny yourself... Embrace your desires..."

The gates closed shut and dematerialized.

"NOOOOOOOO!  Shelly, come back!!  I need you!  Oh, please, Shelly, come back to me.  I love you!!!  I want to love you!  Oh, Shelly...."  Tears burst forth and Mary, as if she were a lovesick teenager, sobbed uncontrollably.

Once again, Mary had been denied fulfillment with her girlfriend.  She was left with a heartrending craving to either screw or be screwed by a sexy female.  At this point she was open to any girl or woman of equivalent allure as a substitute for Shelly.

Mary turned around.  She had almost forgotten about Serena and Sarah.  The tears started to dry as arousal stirred in Mary's loins at the sight of the two sexy females in front of her. All of the desires she harbored for sex with Shelly transferred quickly toward them, joining the Sapphic feelings for them she already had been given by the real-life subliminals. 

As if in synchrony with Mary's wishes, the nightgowns and panties disappeared from Serena's and Sarah's bodies, flowing away like receding mist.  Mary's mouth opened in erotic shock.  She zoomed in on their naked pussies.   Her mouth started to water.  Her lustful feelings for them flared at once into a raging inferno within her.  She desired sex with both of them turbulently.

But it was Serena's luscious body which drew Mary closer first, as the subliminal conditioning during dinner had highlighted Serena more than Sarah, and also Serena's PVC-covered breasts were larger than Sarah's, and consequently pulled Mary to them more.  Mary wanted to touch and kiss them. 

She took a step closer to Serena. Then she became aware of a heavenly perfume floating to her from between Serena's legs, luring Mary's attention there once again. The powerful attraction to vagina Mary had discovered within herself as a teenager, per the machine, returned to her now with a rush.  The beauty and fragrance of Serena's lewdly exhibited lovebox called to her. 

Mary stepped further toward Serena and kneeled down on her fours, facing Serena's pussy.  First she examined it visually, enjoying the hairless skin and the smooth, moist lips.  Then she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. 

No longer able to resist her reawakening thirst for cunt, she began licking the shaved pussy in front of her. She preferred pussy cleanly shaved, like this one, she knew clearly now...beautiful, shaved, moist, delicious lesbian pussy.

Cunt juice trickled into Mary's red-lipped mouth. The machine increased Mary's awareness that she was wearing red lipstick and reminded her how important it was to wear lipstick, especially when performing cunnilingus, a defining act of lesbianism.

"Mary loves lipstick on her mouth... sexy red lipstick... You must have bold lipstick on before oral sex... before any sexual act... Yessss, you love sexy red lipstick... on your lips...Lipstick is for sex...with another girl or woman... It attracts girls... It invites sex... It is required for erotic pleasure... You need red lipstick..."

From behind, Sarah teased Mary's pussy with the tip of a red latex strap-on. Each slight touch from the latex member made Mary quiver in excruciating anticipation. The fact that it was a teen girl, a pretty one, and one of Wendy's best friends, and specifically the gloriously beautiful Sarah, who was coming on to her made the prospect of impending sex with her agonizingly exciting.  Mary gyrated her hips subconsciously, wanting the phallus to fill her up immediately. Eventually, Sarah spread her red-nailed fingers over Mary's buttocks for support and thrust her hips forward, pushing the red latex phallus deeply into Mary's vagina. Mary moaned loudly into Serena's pussy at the initial thrust.

"Red PVC... red latex... red leather... red materials of all kinds... You love red objects on your body... You love red objects going inside your body..."

Mary's vision switched to third person view. It was a wonderful sight, a sexy older woman, a hot and desirable mother, making love with, being screwed by a magnificent blonde teen beauty. She saw a close-up view of her pussy and the sleek red latex phallus that was reciprocating through its wet folds. The toy was held in place by a shiny black buckle harness.

Her view returned to first-person. The latex strap-on went in and out repeatedly through Mary's cunt.  It felt like heaven.  She had never felt anything so good. 

It had never been like this with her husband.  This was so much better, the machine convinced her.  There was no comparison at all.  She would never again be content with the drudgery of sex with a man.  She could only get this supreme level of love and gratification from a woman.  Or a girl. 

And this is what she wanted for Wendy, too, she now saw.  The thought of a man ever defiling Wendy made her cringe.  No, never that for her precious daughter.  Only this...

Mary felt Sarah's soft hands run along her hips and waist.  An urge to touch Sarah's creamy teenage thighs surged through Mary's body. The machine told Mary that she wanted more of Sarah...that she would never get enough of her...that she wanted Sarah to herself sometime...that there would be opportunities...if she became a lesbian...and painted her lips and nails red...that Sarah would give her body to her...kiss her and love her and fuck her...again and again...

Mary's view of sex was slowly being shattered. No longer would her desires be heterosexual. They would become fully lesbian. Her Sapphic lust would grow continually, and she wouldn't be able to contain it.

Once Mary got close to the edge, Sarah pulled the strap-on out with a loud squishy sound. The latex phallus was gleaming with feminine wetness. Pussy juices flowed from Mary's pussy lips. Though this was occurring behind her, Mary envisioned every detail nevertheless.  Kneeling down, Sarah placed her glossy red lips directly on Mary's lovebox and proceeded to finish the job. Her tongue went in deeply and moved in wild motions. With one final stab of Sarah's tongue, Mary was sent over the edge.

"It's not over yet, my lesbian whore," said Serena with loving affection.

Mary stood back up. A solid red strap-on with a red harness appeared around Serena's hips. Sarah forced her strap-on into Mary's anus at the same moment Mary's pussy was penetrated by Serena's strap-on. She was now sandwiched between two superb females with no escape. Loud moans and grunts escaped Mary's lips as each of her holes was fucked in reciprocating motions by latex phalluses.

Sexual desire for Serena and Sarah was being indelibly etched into Mary's real body during this process. In the future in the real world, whenever either Serena or Sarah would be near Mary, her presence would tug on Mary's body palpably and Mary would feel a physical compulsion to touch, feel, kiss, and lick her, and be touched and licked and fucked by her.

Wanting more intimacy, Mary's hands reached for Serena's thighs and slid her hands along them, enjoying their smoothness.

"This is what you want... You like this... You enjoy it... Sexy, creamy female thighs... You love touching a woman's body with red-nailed fingers... Sensual, long red nails... "

Mary touched and squeezed Serena's ass cheeks, satisfying her implanted sexual curiosity. The warmth and suppleness of Serena's butt felt wonderful on Mary's hands.

"The nails on your fingers and toes must be painted and lacquered... in a bold color...at all times...especially red...so that you are ready for love... beautiful lesbian love...with girls and women... Your lips and nails must be colored before you can kiss and touch other pretty females..."

Mary had a heightened awareness that her nails were painted in a glossy red color.  The machine convinced her that she loved the sensation of having beautiful, sexy, painted nails that would entice other females.  Imagery of her own nails and a brush applying coat after coat flashed before her, further reinforcing the importance of colored nails for Mary.

"The lesbian lust is strong in you. You would be a perfect lesbian lover for your daughter, Mary Love-Livingston." Serena's words echoed deeply into Mary's mind.

"Wendy would be more than happy to have her mother as her lesbian lover," concurred Sarah.

"Yessss..." Mary dreamily acquiesced;  "Wendy and I...lesbian lovers..."

"But," she murmured, as a remnant of her conscience protested, "but...I am a wife...a faithful wife..."

"An unhappy wife. A dissatisfied wife.  A sexually deprived wife.  A wife who sees her husband as the undeserving, pathetic pig that he is and all men are.  A wife who prefers women and girls to her husband.  A wife who will soon be free of him.  Soon, you will be an ex-wife who will be liberated and able to make her many secret lesbian fantasies come true. "

"I'm a mother...I'm a good mother..." she offered weakly.

"A sexy mother. A dirty mother. A wicked, perverted, lesbian mother. A mother who likes teenage girls...likes their lithe young bodies...likes their cute breasts...likes their fresh, sweet pussies...A mother who wants the wet pussy of her own sexy daughter...

"Soon, you will be a liberated homosexual woman who can love any woman or girl she wishes.  You will be an enticing lesbian mother free to live your fantasies of incest.  You will be free to marry any girl you desire...free to wed the girl of your dreams...the girl you love most..."

Serena and Sarah continued to work Mary over with their strap-ons, driving home each point being made to Mary with penetrating pleasure.  Serena kissed Mary deeply, silencing her moans. Sarah reached under Mary's arms to squeeze Mary's large breasts, then craned her necked forward to nibble and lick on Mary's ear.

"You will become a devout follower of lesbianism, a lesbian whore who knows no bounds.  It is your destiny, Mary.  Give in.  Behold the lovely future that awaits you when you give in to the slutty lezzie queer you really are and have always wanted to be!"

Red fog filled Mary's vision before slowly transitioning to white fog, which then soon dispersed. Mary found herself in a church standing by the altar and wearing a white wedding dress. Wendy was standing in front of her in a sheer wedding dress and holding a flower bouquet. A white chastity belt was visible through the sheer skirt. 

"I'm so glad we're finally getting married, Mom!"

Mary's first reaction was sharp surprise mingled with pleased receptivity and pure thrill.  How is this possible?  Is this really happening?  I'm getting married?  to my sexy daughter?!  

"Wow...I've never even thought about this before...The machine reminded her that she had thought of it just a moment ago.  ...except as a fantasy...never imagined it would be possible...but... but...that would be...that would nice...that would be so nice...that would be incredible!!   Yes!!  I'd love to!!!

Though...Mary's stubborn real mind tried to interfere again; ...marry my daughter?  Can I?  Isn't there some reason I shouldn't?  And...and...aren't I already married?  to....  She couldn't remember. 

Mary's ethics of marriage, fidelity, chastity, and modesty had been deeply, firmly rooted into her being over her lifetime and were not allowing extraction without a tenacious resistance.  But the technology plying her psyche was powerful and equally insistent.

The machine was pulling the strings in Mary's mind. It made it difficult for her to form complete logical thoughts, creating dead ends and detours whenever needed in order to steer Mary ever closer to a purely Sapphic direction.

A sensuous female voice answered commandingly in her head:  "No, Mary Love-Livingston!  He is unworthy of you and you are done with him.  You want it to be over and it is.  You want a divorce.  You must divorce him. 

"You have tried men.  They have disappointed you.   They have failed you.   Never again.  You are now free...free to follow your heart!  

"Now you are free to return to your first love--girls...pretty teenage girls...as well as lovely women...

"You may now marry anyone you want.  You love teenage girls.  Naturally you want to marry one.  Wendy, your daughter, is a teenage girl...a very pretty one...a special one... specially beautiful....specially sexy...specially loose...just what you like...and are looking for.  She's perfect.  And she's perfect for you.   She loves you.  She'd make a wonderful wife for you. 

"See...she is right here...so close...so tempting...so ready for you.  She is waiting for you.  She wants her mom...wants to marry her!  She wants sex!  She needs sex!  from you, Mary Love-Livingston.  She wants you!" 

"But...is that...okay...?"

"It is not only just okay, Mary; it is right... it is good...it is perfect...the perfect thing for you to do.  Wendy is the love you have been waiting for.  You cannot have Shelly, but you can have Wendy.  

"It is even better with Wendy because it is incest.  As a perverted mother, you find the idea of incest exciting.  You know it is for you.  And Wendy is for you.  She is the love of your life...the girl you want...more than any other.  Do not let this opportunity pass by.  Take her hand...say 'I do'...Marry your daughter Wendy!!" 

As prompted by the machine, Mary started to know how right those words were  Yes...This is natural...the right thing.  This is what we want... and need...marriage...and sex...as mother and daughter...as lesbians...living together...in incest...a good thing...a natural thing...a better way to live... Wendy...as my lover...my beautiful, sexy Wendy...

With each succeeding second,  Mary became more certain...more certain than about anything else in her life...about what was right...about what she wanted...about what she needed...about Wendy...and what was good for her...what Wendy needed...

Elation swept through Mary. She could marry her own daughter!  And then have sex with her!!   Never had she conceived something so wonderful could or would come into her life. 

"I do," Mary whispered, in response to the unspoken marital vow.  She took her daughter's hands in her own and scanned her wonderful face and form. The machine told Mary that her fondest dream was being fulfilled at this moment. Tears of joy streamed down her face. She cried, "I DO!!"

Erotic imagery flashed repeatedly: Red lips kissing red lips; red-nailed fingers cupping a breast through the white satin bra; a foot rising upwards and a tongue extending from between red lips licking the shiny white high heeled shoe; red-nailed fingers grasping a silver key and unlocking a chastity belt worn by a teenage girl; a solid white glossy dildo protruding from red lips; female hands pulling up a white strap-on dildo through her thighs and tightening the white harness; soft teen thighs in sheer white nylons spreading wantonly; a red-lipped mouth uttering a quiet moan...

Mary planted a lavish kiss on her daughter's lips, an act that seemed second nature to her. The bouquet of flowers dropped on the floor.

"Do it... Do it... Do it... Do it... Do it..." repeated a chorus of girlish voices in a mantra.

Mother and daughter engaged in a sensual embrace as they kissed. The passionate lip lock gave Mary intense sexual arousal. Wendy's tongue went inside her mother's mouth deeply. Mary felt as if her soul had been touched.

A flash of light filled Mary's vision. In an instant, Mary was standing alone again. Beneath her feet were massive, billowy clouds. Above and around her was the blue sky as far as the eye can see.

The female angel reappeared, hovering a short distance away from Mary, basking Mary in her glowing aura of warmth.  Mary was happy to see her again.

"That was but a small taste of the wonderful future pleasures that lie before you, if you choose to obey God's will."

Those words and the presence of the angel made Mary feel glad.  Due to the manipulations of the machine, Mary felt she could trust and believe the angel.  Her message made it seem that God had a higher purpose for her, along with a great reward, and it was incumbent on her to cooperative with God's will.

The machine was also making Mary feel powerfully drawn to the angel personally--to her commanding yet sweet personality, to her youth, to her transparent attire, to her coloring, to her lush, long, wondrous hair, to her soft curves, and most intensively, to the moist, girlish pussy which Mary could see through the filmy layers and which she sensed was waiting for her.  Mary adored how pretty, how feminine, how graceful, and how utterly sexy she was.  And how much like Wendy...

"Sexy...good...slutty...good...pussy...good," a soft voice sang in her head. "Young and sexy...very good... young and slutty...wonderful... teenage girls... love...young and sexy...love...fresh teen flesh... soft, delicious...young pussy...sweet, fresh...girl pussy...lovely and right...sweet and tight...Wendy's pussy...love is right...incest and Wendy...good and right...angel and Wendy...so much alike..."

There was a glorious allure about the angel, directed specially at Mary which was getting under her skin, weaving itself into her spirit, sinking into her heart, and burning in her womanhood. 

The pleasant voice continued: "Mary...you want to please the angel... and be beautiful, like her... join with her... possess her... love her...and love Wendy...just like you love the angel...They are so much alike.

"Please the angel. Do what she says. Everything she says is true.  Accept all the soft, feminine pleasure, all the opportunities for love and sex she offers you..."  

The machine instilled gratitude into Mary that God would send this sexy young angel to help her know and follow the divine path for her.

"I will obey God's will," said Mary solemnly in a droning voice with her eyes staring at the female angel with hypnotic fascination. She felt compelled to say it. No other possibility had occurred to Mary.

"Then let us begin your cleansing. But, first you need to remove your attire."

"As you command," said Mary as she opened up her sheer red dress and let it slide off her body. She undid her red bra with her red-nailed fingers and slid the red panties through her legs. The only items that remained on her body were the silver ruby jewelry and red high heel shoes.

"Now, I shall begin the process of exorcising unholy elements from your body."

Mary accepted the female angel's warm embrace and passionate kiss on the lips. She eagerly received her tongue inserted into her mouth, desiring and relishing it with the full force of her implanted lesbian lust, which was highlighted by the intensity of her stifled moans. 

Before this evening, no part of Mary's brain had ever pictured herself making out with another female. Though the earlier visionary kissing scenes, the evening's subliminals, and Serena's kisses after dinner had seriously dented Mary's previous aversion to kissing women, this vision of kissing the angel, as it lasted longer than the other scenes, and was specifically designed to sink this act of lesbian love deeply into Mary's psyche, obliterated that aversion within Mary's moral constitution and set the precedence for many more scenes of Mary kissing women and girls, both imaginary and real.

Glossy red lips rubbed against glossy pink lips. Tongues intertwined. The young angel's long, platinum-hued hair magically enveloped Mary, caressing the older woman, compounding the embrace.  As they kissed, Mary fell ever more deeply into the angel's web of love and desire. At length the angel broke the kiss.

"Very good, Mary. Now drink the holy milk from my breast. It will cleanse and beautify your soul." 

The idea was now implanted into Mary's head that she had always been curious about the breasts of other women; that she had hoped for a long time to be able to see and touch and hold some of them sometime, in a sexual way; and that her darkest fantasy was to suck on the breasts of another woman, especially of a very beautiful woman.  And now these dreams were about to come true.

Mary knew this privilege was totally undeserved on her part, as she had wasted her life in heterosexuality and prudishness; it was more than she had any right to expect.  The implication that this lovely angel would now reveal her holy breasts to Mary, and then, most marvelous of all, was going to permit her to drink from them...it was so wonderful...it was too wonderful to comprehend.  It is a miracle.

The machine now flooded May's mind and body suddenly with a maddening lust for the angel's breasts and the promised drink inside them.  Mary's mouth watered, her heart raced. 

The angel's sparkling transparent corset and shimmering golden bra now became the center of her world.  From the first moment she had beheld them, they had captivated her interest for the treasures she could see contained within their delicate, shining embrace.   Her awareness was now centered on them with the keenest attention.

Lowering her head, Mary's eyes focused on the angel's well-endowed cleavage, noticing a golden Sapphic pendant right above and in between the heavenly orbs. The angel's corset dematerialized in a brilliant flash while the golden bra cups opened up and retracted in a flower-like manner. 

Tipping wondrously large, proud, pale, soft mounds, the angel's nipples came into clear view, a deeply saturated hot, angry pink in color, set in wide, succulently bulging, pale lavender areolae.  The unveiling of the angel's breasts was a sudden bursting of the sun over the horizon at dawn, and fireworks of every color exploding all at once in the night sky. The sight parted Mary's lips, dilated her pupils, flushed her face, and sent a violent erotic shock from Mary's eyes through her body straight to her cunt, which started to ache and to water as much as her mouth. 

As the machine centered Mary's lusting fascination on the angel's breasts, a love and longing for the breasts of all attractive women and girls wove its way into all the recesses of Mary's mind.  That attraction saturated and darkly, indelibly dyed every fiber of Mary's sexual nature, and settled deeply into Mary's heart.  Permanently.  She would never be able to look at or even be near any pretty woman again without being erotically attracted to and aroused by her breasts.  At first she would not understand it, would deny it and attempt to suppress it.   Those efforts could only endure for a time.

Mary was suddenly aware of her mouth.  She knew and exulted that her lips were bright red, coated, as they had been in the previous scene with Serena and Sarah, with copious layers of luscious, brilliant lipstick, as, the machine "reminded" her, was proper and necessary for the pending act of lesbian worship.  She opened her mouth, a trickle of saliva seeping out, ready to receive the proffered delicacy, and reverently moved closer.

The angel placed her hand on the back of Mary's head to guide her to the nipple. The first contact of her coated lips to her prize sparked electrically in her mouth, and another bolt of passion shot to her womanhood, which spasmed with pleasure in reaction.  Mary gasped, opening her mouth wider, at which the angel pressed her soft, full breast fully into Mary's mouth, filling it.  Mary wrapped her lusciously red lips around the teat, and sucked.  The first taste was of honey, cinnamon, and delicious fruit. 

Again, Mary was happy her lips had lipstick, and lots of it.  That was so right, the machine told her.  She wouldn't want to pleasure the breasts of any woman...or girl...without lipstick, layers and layers of it, coloring her lips deeply, making them soft and slick and inviting.  The way they ought to be.  Always.  Particularly when with another woman...or with an alluring girl...like Wendy...some beloved female...someone with whom one is going to have sex...leaving bright lip prints on breasts...slick, painted lips on soft, smooth breasts...the only way to do it...

Mary sucked more vigorously.  Sweet, warm milk finally started to flow into her mouth.  At first the trickle was modest, but Mary wanted more.  So she pulled on the nipple with her lips and sucked harder.  The nipple responded to her worship, and grew in her wet mouth.  Longer and longer it became, an inch, then two, and the yummy angel juice started flowing freely into her red mouth. She drank and drank, ever sucking on the angels' hard, deep-pink nipple for more.

Mary ventured her hands unto the angle's holy breasts. As if handling a sacred relic, she cradled in both hands the orb from which she drank. 

She lightly ran her red-nailed fingertips over the smooth skin of both wondrous spheres.  She was glad her nails were painted.  And long. She would always want long, painted nails to touch her lovers' breasts, from now on. The angel loved it, loved her long, red fingernails...touching her, caressing her breasts.  Mary was pleased. 

Mary loved the angel.  She loved feeling her breasts.  And stroking them.  With her glossy, bright, feminine fingernails.  So right, so good...a beautiful sight...a sweet and sexy act... 

The flow increased in answer to her caresses and her red fingernails.  The milk, pouring out profusely now, was delicious, refreshing her as nothing she had every tasted before. 

More.  She wanted more. Feeling and kneading, holding and hugging the dreamy tits in her hands, then squeezing them more passionately, Mary's red mouth felt the angel's nursing breast reply to her touch and to her love with a torrent. It flooded out, into her mouth, down her throat, and kept coming, ever gushing more and more.  Just like Mary had hoped.

"More, more...you always want more...more sex with women...more love with girls...more sweet woman drink...from pretty breasts...girl breasts...for you...suck, suck...girly nipples...so exciting...so delicious...sweet, sweet...good, good...more, more...Drink the elixir of lesbian love...becoming lovelier...becoming a lesbian...more queer with every drop...homosexuality entering into you...You can never get enough...filling you with love...for women and girls...sexual love...for Wendy...

"You want more beauty...and more homosexuality...Drink until you're full...Take it all in...more and more...sexier and more lesbian every second... Drink, drink... Take it all... Let it flow...into you...all the way...into you...all the way...into homosexuality... Become a queer...for Wendy...a queen of queer...Mary the sexy lesbian queen...her daughter's lover... Drink it all..."

At length, a colder and darker tone interfered, as if a cloud intruded.  It was the ugly rasp of masculinity. The milk flow slowed...then stopped. 

The angel spoke directly to Mary's mind: "Men are the worst sinners... Men are wicked, unclean, greedy, unfaithful, and bad in every way... Abandon all males... Abandon heterosexuality... Men are of no use in your life... Purge all thoughts and feelings for men... You don't need or want your husband. He has left you alone. Now you will leave him. Send him away. You are done with him and with every other man." 

The cloud dispersed and the previous peaceful and comforting atmosphere returned. "All you need are women...women are all you want...beautiful women...pretty girls...sexy girls...no men...only girls..."

Mary's head was gently pushed away from the breast.  The angel caught Mary's eyes with her own and smiled lovingly into her face.  Mary's worship had been accepted.  She rejoiced.  The pretty angel affectionately embraced Mary's face with her long-nailed hands and kissed her on the lips.  It went on and on...and Mary wanted more...ever more...

At last the angel again engaged Mary's eyes and this time applied a gentle downward pressure on Mary's head.  At first, the meaning was unclear.  Then enlightenment dawned.  Mary's heart raced.  God had heard her prayer. The angel had more for her, more for her thirsty, hungry soul, to fill and complete it, to complete the new creation, the new lesbian woman, she was to be, wanted to be.

Then, with a slight nod of the head, conveying, "Yes, my love; that's right," and a smile that was clearly knowing and inviting, even wanton, the angel cradled Mary's head in her hands and guided it downward...slowly...downward.

Along the way, Mary's eyes appraised the beauty of the angel's midriff.  She marveled at how very slender was the waist and how perfectly smooth the skin.  The golden belly piercing sparkled.  Mary's machine-endowed impulse was to plant a hundred kisses, to taste the skin, and tongue the golden jewelry. But the angel's hands insistently urged Mary's face further... downward.

The short downward journey ended at the crotch.  The angel's skirt, already transparent, now vanished entirely, leaving her glossy panties directly in front of Mary's face. It was the last article of clothing remaining on the angel's voluptuous young lesbian body, a body which called to Mary now with the most urgent allure. 

The lips of the angel's vagina were visible through and clearly outlined by the tight, thin, shiny material...and were only inches from Mary's soft, red mouth.  Mary's eyes widened and her mouth watered at the wonderful sight. Then, a heady fragrance, as from a potpourri of flowers and spices and fruit, floated to Mary's nostrils from the angelic vagina. 

The angel's pink-nailed hands caressed Mary's tresses, roving over the elegant crown of braided blond hair, letting Mary inhale the view.  At length she pulled Mary's head closer to her filmy-covered femininity, until Mary's lips just touched the material.  She felt girl-moisture in the glossy fabric and could just barely taste it too, a mix of flavors ranging from cherries to peaches to marshmallow.  Even the slightest taste was heavenly. 

The angel-pussy now awakened with independent life.  Sensing the presence of a lover's lips, it started to pulsate and swell, as it filled it's reservoir with love-juice in anticipation of what that mouth would want, would need, would demand. Mary felt movement, warmth, and increasing wetness on her lips through the panties.

The angel pulled Mary's head back a few inches, so she could better show herself off to her older lover.  The angel's growing young love box glowed and bulged in Mary's face through its scanty, transparent covering, lighting and stretching the thin, wet material.  Woman-juice dripped copiously through the panties and down the angel's smooth legs. 

"Mary, my love, smell the perfume of alluring womanhood!  Behold the savory splendor of feminine sex!"

Like removing the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the angel's golden panties dismantled themselves, unleashing a mighty burst of more of the lovely cunt-perfume into Mary's delighted face...and entirely revealing her large, hairless vagina.

Mary instantly became aroused at the sight. Her own pussy started to clench and swell and drip in reaction. Her mouth flowed profusely with fresh saliva until it drooled over her red lips. She opened her mouth instinctively. 

At least, these were the new instincts integrated into Mary's body as the machine hummed on, writing into her the reaction should would have ever after when confronted with a succulent pussy.

Long ago Mary had become obsessed with sexy girl-pussy, she remembered. She craved it, needed it...and she had denied it to herself.  Oh, the years of waste and folly...fighting her true nature...resisting her desires.

But God in His mercy had granted her a second chance.   Redemption was right in front of her now.  Cunt.  Again.  Finally

And this was her favorite type, the machine recalled to her "memory"--smooth and clean.  And young.  Moreover, this pretty angel's pretty pussy was the prototype of delicious, sexually ready, female womanhood--perfectly shaved, perfectly shaped, and perfectly wet...and, at the moment, quite large.  It was brimming full of drink, and eager to dispense its contents generously.  It started to glow more warmly and undulate more sensuously--demanding attention and inviting access. 

Mary felt her mouth was destined to be on another female's love box.  It was the right place for her mouth, her lips' natural home.  It was meant to be.  The machine told her it was inevitable. "Tasty slit-licking love is coming...can't resist it....don't want to resist...

"Drink from the pussy of your angel-girlfriend...then of your Serena-girlfriend...and your Sarah-girlfriend...and, best of all, your Wendy-girlfriend...Love her sweet little girly box...and many, many more....Eat your lover's twat...one time...then another time...and a thousand times more.  More...you always want more...

"Eat the bread of homosexual life on the altar between the thighs. Drink the holy waters from the pussy-fountain of divine lesbian love.  It is God's will.  Queer female sex is for you...it is a holy act.  Women are meant to be together in love.  It is your future.

"A beautiful woman's pussy is sacred. Smell it...taste it...enjoy it fully. Worship it reverently... with your lips...and your tongue. God created feminine mouths for this, created them to love cunt.  Only another woman's wonderful pussy will ever satisfy you.

Holiness, lesbianism, and sex became conflated in Mary's mind.

The machine hissed to her:  "Mary loves pussy...must have pussy...will have pussy...wants to kiss it...wants to lick it...wants to suck it...wants to love it...now...now...now... now..."

"Make love to my sacred womanhood and drink its holy nectar," commanded the magnificent angel.

Doing as she was told, Mary kissed the angel's pussy with all the worshipful love and pious lust she could muster. The feeling and taste was wonderful.  It was her true calling. It felt like what she should've been doing with her life all along. Mary couldn't have enough of it.  On and on she licked and sucked, losing herself in the angel's fragrant, clean, sopping womanhood.

At last, the angel's orgasmic cry occurred on the exact same moment as the release of her holy love gates. Delicious, warm feminine nectar poured into Mary's mouth. Out it flowed, like a never-ending river.  Mary swallowed it all, and relished every drop.  She lusted for more, and more was her reward.  The gush seemed endless. Baptism into lesbianism washed into her, sweeping away the old, plain, boring Mary, prudishness and heterosexuality rinsing away.

"Do away with your sexual abstinence... It is foolish and unnecessary... You don't need to wait for your husband... You don't need him anymore... You don't need men anymore... You don't want men anymore... You are only interested in women... in girls... You are now a pure lesbian... You can have access to all the sex you want... lesbian sex... from females... whenever you desire it..."

As Mary licked and lapped and drank from the angel, the image of Wendy appeared in Mary's mind. She was licking around her lips while slowly running her hands up her thighs flirtatiously. "Mother..." the teen girl whispered sultrily; "...come...make love to me...."  The angel then materialized in Wendy's place in Mary's mind, and did exactly the same thing, in precisely the same seductive tone.  After a moment she thought she saw Wendy's face appear on the mental angel image, then it flashed away.

The flow of the pussy-drink gradually tapered off, and, though Mary craved more sex with the angel, she knew the angel wanted to talk to her. Mary stood back up, parting her lips from the angel's pussy with reluctance, and only because the angel was going to speak again and Mary knew she had to concentrate on her utterance. She listened to the angel's words with zealous attention, treating them as holy truths.

"Now for the final rite: We will make love together. All remaining traces of heterosexuality will be purged from your body and soul upon the completion of this act." 

Mary desired the young, glorious angel more than her next breath.  She yearned for the feminine angel to screw her, long and hard and deep.  But also, the machine impressed upon her again, Mary did not want to be a wicked straight woman, a selfish frigid woman, who withheld sex from the women who wanted her, and especially from her beloved, sexy Wendy.  Being set free from the evil inhibitions and waste of her previous years, free to serve God as a sexy lesbian woman, free to win the heart and sex of her daughter, free to commit incest....this was now to be her blissful fate. 

A liberated, enlightened, adventurous, sexually-alive Mary was awaiting final birth. Per the input of the machine, she welcomed the transformation gratefully, without doubt or hesitation. Hers would henceforth be a righteous, devoted life of unrestrained lesbian love. 

"Oh, yes!"  she cried out. "Save me from heterosexuality.  I repent.  Finish my new birth into lesbian love.  Oh, sweet angel!  Convert me, I pray.  Completely.  Eternally!  Fuck me!!." 

As if moved by her faith and responding to her prayer, the angel's golden panties rematerialized on her hips with one additional feature:  A golden phallus was protruding from it and aiming in Mary's direction. Brilliant rays emanated from the divine strap-on dildo, entrancing Mary with its erotic holiness.  As she watched in fascination, passionate desire surged into her to accept the phallus between her legs, and thereby to take the final step in her conversion.  She looked into the angel's loving eyes with a pleading gaze--inviting, urging, demanding the angelic teen girl to breach her womanhood.

Without being told, Mary spread her legs to receive the glowing golden phallus.

"Oh, dearest angel...come...come fuck my soul...Oh, FUCK MEEEEEEEE!!!"

She felt herself being lifted into the air as she was about to be penetrated. Thighs slapped against thighs. The gold phallus entered Mary, filling up her vagina to the fullest extent. Mary moaned loudly in pleasure like never before. Glossy pink lips enveloped Mary's red lips, muffling her moans. The teen angel's hips moved non-stop in a reciprocating movement, fucking her harder and better than her husband had ever done. Her breasts were kneaded and nipples pinched. Mary wrapped her legs around the angel's hips to tighten the sexual union. Her red-lipped mouth opened to utter a resounding cry as she went over the edge in the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced.

One more machine awaited Mary: the Dream Inducement Machine.  Her reposing body was moved to it and hooked up.  Under its control, Mary would dream several specific, dictated dreams this night in the bowels of Serena's mansion. Afterward, they would remain implanted within her subconscious mind indefinitely, serving as templates and prompts for future dreams, fantasies, attitudes, and desires.

After this machine was done with her, Mary would have many restless nights due to the erotic Sapphic dreams she would have. Even her day dreams would be affected. Whenever Mary would sleep or nap, and many times when she would just mentally drift for a second, erotic dreams and visions would follow.

The first dream implanted into and experienced within Mary's mind this night involved the use of make-up. It opened with Mary envisioning herself sitting naked in front of the vanity of her bedroom and combing her blonde hair, which was loose, straight, and flowed neatly over her shoulders.  At first, she was a little embarrassed to be so brazen, but it seemed that she was alone and she quickly came to feel comfortable and natural seeing herself like this, and even started to enjoy the erotic freedom she felt.  As she touched her hair, she noticed with pleasure how it seemed to be thicker, longer, shinier, and silkier than ever before, and she wondered how she would look if she experimented with its color and style.

There was a large collection of cosmetics in front of her, which she didn't have in real life. Instinctively, Mary gravitated toward the red-colored make-up she saw, noticing how beautiful and enticing it looked and how exciting and sexy it made her feel just to even gaze at it and contemplate using it on herself.  She picked out red lipstick, clear lip gloss, red nail polish, red blush, silver black eye shadow, and black mascara. She applied the make-up on herself patiently and sensually. She knew the right way was to apply it richly, in thick layers, so she did so.  She found the act and the final view in the mirror most arousing.

Once she was finished with her make-up, Mary sensed that the only possible thing to do next was something wanton, as, she understood, the inherent purpose of makeup was erotic, as a precursor to and preparation for sex, so she started to play with her hairy pussy while looking at herself in the mirror. She fingered herself with her right hand and squeezed her right breast repeatedly, while moaning softly. Her glossy red lips glistened at her in the ambient light. Her tongue extended to lick them. This dream ended before Mary came.

In the second dream, Mary was sitting at the same spot and her make-up was already done. However, she reapplied all of her make-up again except for the blush.  Once more, it gave her a rush.  She also put on perfume, one that included a sweet strawberry note, on her neck, behind her ears, and into her cleavage.

She had the urge to play with herself again, but remembered how hairy her pussy was, and felt uneasy about it.  Hair there wasn't proper, not for a beautiful, sensual woman like herself.  From a drawer, she picked up a small white bottle of shaving cream and a chrome-plated steel safety razor. In a few moments, a creamy white foam covered her pussy. It felt so good, and she sensed strongly that what she was about to do was right for her, for the lovely and liberated woman she was. It was important and long overdue.

In less than a dozen strokes, Mary neatly removed all of the hair from her womanhood. Without delay, red-nailed fingers entered between her labia, and sank in deeply. Loud moans escaped from her mouth. This, with a naked cunt, was so much sexier than before. Clear feminine juices flowed down her thighs. Again, the dream ended before she got release.

Mary was at the same location in the third dream. The make-up she had on in the two previous dreams had remained. She put on the same cosmetic items again. This time, smiling at herself in the mirror naughtily, she daubed her nipples and labia in red lipstick as well. She loved the feel and look; it was beautiful and slutty, so right for her. Getting up from her chair she went to the dresser to retrieve a lacey red satin bra and a pair of matching panties before putting them on in front of her closet mirror.  Perfect.

She went to her bed, laid down on her back, spread her legs wide, pulled her panties aside, and began masturbating with a metallic red bullet dildo that was four inches in length.  She closed her eyes and tossed her head back, feeling her shiny blonde hair spread across the satin bedspread, as the ecstasy mounted. Yet, just before she was about to orgasm, her dream ended prematurely once again.

At the start of the fourth dream, Mary was back at her vanity wearing all of her previous  make-up and lingerie. She now fashioned her hair in a half-up style, with some hair braided into a crown and some left pouring over her shoulders, leaving no bangs. From a red velvet box, she picked up a red ruby pendant necklace and ruby earrings.  Once fastened into place, the precious stones glinted when she shifted her head to admire herself in the mirror. Mary then slipped on a red garter belt and pulled sheer red stockings up her legs. From the closet, she retrieved and slid into a one-piece, form-fitting, sleeveless red satin halter dress with a plunging neckline that revealed a generous amount of her breasts and an open upper back. The ankle-length skirt had a slit on the left side that ran the skirt's full length. After slipping into her four-inch patent leather red high heel pumps, she looked at herself in the mirror and traced the curves of her body.

Yessss....

"You're now ready," said Serena's voice, which seemed to come from everywhere before the dream ended.

In the fifth dream, Mary had just arrived home from work.

"Wendy, I'm home!"

There was no response, but she heard some faint sounds that she couldn't make out.

As she walked up the stairs, the sounds got louder. Mary recognized them as moaning. Was her daughter hurt and whimpering in pain?  Or...was she...was she possibly...possibly masturbating...or...or maybe even having sex with someone?  Mary hastened her steps up the stairs and arrived at the door of Wendy's room. She opened the unlocked door and...

The scene switched to their kitchen. Wendy was doing her homework at the kitchen table. Mary somehow knew it was a Saturday afternoon. Her daughter looked like the old Wendy, the one that existed before she had met Sarah--her honey-blonde hair unstyled and slightly frumpy, no make-up, nondescript, modest clothes, and a look of innocence and inexperience on her naturally pretty, fresh-scrubbed face. She accidentally got a paper cut while flipping through the pages of her math book.

"Owww!"

"Honey, are you alright?"

"I got a paper cut, Mommy," said Wendy, with her lightly-bleeding index finger on display.  She had a pouty, little-girl look on her face and tone to her voice, which clearly seemed more playful than serious.  "Would you kiss it all better for me?"

Mary gently took her precious Wendy's hand to examine the cut, then lifted her daughter's finger to her mouth to kiss it.  The taste of her daughter's blood and the contact of her lips to Wendy's skin caused her to remember that her mouth was heavily painted with shiny red lipstick, making her lips alluring and primed for sex.  Automatically, she pressed her daughter's finger to her mouth again, this time the action quickly became unmotherly.  Mary closed her eyes, wrapped her creamy, crimson lips around the delicate, wounded digit and started to suck.  She slid her tongue around it wantonly and licked the skin, the blood, and the fingernail. 

Mmmmm... My sweet daughter tastes so good...

"Mom, let's wait until tonight!" said Wendy coyly.

When Mary's eyes opened and returned to her daughter's face, she saw, with surprise, that Wendy's appearance had changed. Bright make-up covered her face. Some locks of her now platinum blonde hair were woven into braids. She wore a white blouse that was sheer enough to see a pink bra beneath.  Her face had a carnal, sweetly wicked expression.  Mary felt her heart flutter and her pussy quiver.

"Tonight..." Wendy repeated slowly with her glossy pink lips.

Everything faded to white.

A fourth dream commenced.

"Don't forget about me..." said a faint female voice.

"Who's there?"

"Don't forget about me..." said the voice again, more loudly.

"Shelly?"

The whiteness that filled Mary's vision cleared, revealing Shelly as she had looked when Mary had last seen her in real life before they had separated.

"Shelly!"

"I'm so glad to see you again, Mary."

"So am I!"

"Why did you marry a man, Mary?"

"Wha...What do you mean?!"

"I'm very disappointed in you..."

"I don't understand..."

"Don't you remember what we did together?"

Fleeting imagery of Mary's past activities with Shelly--the ones implanted into her memory earlier this night--passed briefly through her mind.

"I thought you liked women..."

"But I..."

"How come you didn't stay true to yourself? Why are you living a lie? Why did you marry a man?"

"No, it's not a lie! I married my husband because I loved him!"

"You're wrong.  You only did it because other people expected that.  You never wanted to.  You need to remember and to recognize your true self!"

Shelly embraced Mary and kissed her deeply on the lips. Mary's heart started racing, just as it had, her new memories told her, when Shelly and she had kissed as young teens in love with each other.  But then everything faded to black...

The fifth dream started with Mary in her bed, lying on her side, facing the edge of the bed nearest her, clad only in skimpy, silky red panties, and enveloped in satin bedding. 

The room was engulfed in the pitch black of night. Rain battered the windows. Lightning flashed. She opened her groggy eyes and looked at the red numbers of her digital clock. It was 1:50 AM. It felt good, and deliciously decadent, to be in bed almost naked, wearing only little panties.  The sleek sheets on her bare skin were a luxurious delight.   

Mary felt a hand touching her arm, from behind her. Was her husband back home? The hand caressed the full length of her arm gently. It felt good. Yes, yes, continue! It's been so long...

She felt a leg going in between her thighs from behind to rub against her crotch and ass. A hand reached around her shoulders to knead one of her breasts. Yes, more...

Something felt off about the actions of her husband, but she dismissed it as unfamiliarity caused by his long absence.

The hand that caressed her breast left her tingling globe and slid slowly downward along her belly, entering her panties to finger her pussy beneath their nylon folds. Kisses were planted along the nape of her neck.  Bruce had never pleasured her as softly and sensuously before.  There was a heady smell of what she took to be cologne, though it was definitely more like a woman's perfume. In any case, the sensations were exquisite.  Mary was panting.  

More... Put it in me now...

As if her thoughts were read, she felt something slick and hard sliding against her thighs, as the hand slowly pulled her panties aside. The smooth phallus she felt teased her pussy lips a little, then plunged in. Mary gasped. The penis felt thicker, harder, and more rigid than she remembered Bruce's being, but the enjoyment of being impaled smothered all questions.  All that mattered in the moment was that she was slowly, expertly, delightfully being fucked. "Yes, ahh, ahhh, ah, ah, oh, ah, ah, ah..."

Fingers clenched her breasts tightly. Mary could feel that those nails were pointy and long, something that her husband would never have. But the sharp fingernails felt wonderful on her breasts, and the pleasure from them and from the exquisite screwing she was getting washed away her doubts again

The thrusting picked up its pace. "Ahh, ah, uh, uh, uh, ah, ah!"

She again inhaled the sweet fragrance she had smelled before.  It was seductive, and decidedly feminine.  Then two warm, round fleshy globes pressed tightly against her back.

What's rubbing against my back? Are these...are they breasts? Why would my husband have breasts?"

It took a second, through the haze of her wild pleasure and the viscosity of the dream, to arrive at a logical conclusion.

NOOOOOOOOO!

Mary pulled away from the person who was fucking her as if she had been jolted by electricity. At the moment she turned her head around to face the person in the bed, her dream ended.

In dream six, it was the afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the windows and was disfused by the fabric curtains. Mary was on her fours on the pink satin-covered bed, naked, facing the headboard of the bed. Someone was fucking her pussy from behind.

"Uhh...uhh...uhh..ahhh...oh...Harder...honey...harder!"

The member going into her love box was exquisitely rigid, and, once again, harder, thicker, and longer than she remembered her husband's male organ being. Legs rubbing her own from behind felt like they were encased in some smooth silky material. The hands holding her waist seemed to have very long nails. Curious, Mary turned around to look, but found it difficult to get even a glimpse of any part of the person behind her.

She sensed no masculine presence in the room.  Looking at the floor next to the bed, she saw two pairs of shoes. Both were patent leather high heels. One pair was red in color with four-inch heels. The other pair was black, with five-inch heels.

A...a woman?

Mary was confused.  Where was Bruce?  Why was Bruce never around when she needed him?  Who was this?

The moment she asked herself those questions, she found herself realizing that she did not really feel like she needed her husband anymore, nor did she miss him.   No...not in the least...how strange.  Someone else was with her now.  Someone whose soft, silky, curvy, fragrant, erotic presence felt so natural and comfortable, so pleasurable, so romantic, so arousing and thrilling. And this fuck was totally unlike anything she had ever experienced with her husband.  It was glorious.

Why do I love this so much?  Should I be doing this?  Who is this with me?

Mary's vision faded to white.

More dreams followed, each of equal or successively greater decadence and erotic intensity. Once programmed into her mind, these fantasies would work themselves ever more deeply into her attitudes, desires, and expectations, and would be the models for her dreams and daydreams in the future. In ensuing nights and days, the effects would range from a flash here or an impression there or a spontaneous fantasy during the day, to a night filled with long, wild, moving dreams.

Sometimes she would have the exact same dreams and fantasies as tonight's, or nearly so, and often in a series with the same or a similar sequence, while other times her dreams and daydreams would assume different forms, her dreaming or drifting mind instead merely taking cues, patterns, images, and themes from the dreams being implanted tonight.  Sometimes she would be able to recall her dreams quite clearly after awakening--whether just briefly or for an extended period--and other times the dreams would fade out of her conscious mind quickly, though they always would linger in her subconscious mind, intriguing and teasing her, insinuating new interests and cravings into her, and influencing her thinking, choices, and behavior.

Mary's evolving real-world mindset, desires, lusts, situation, experiences, relationships, brainwashing, and imagination would all be factors which would influence what she would dream or imagine on any given night or day in the future.  There would be variations in details about herself, other persons involved, settings, and events, and in the perceptions, sensations, emotions, and outcomes she would experience. But every dream and fantasy she would have from this point on would paint her soul with erotic Sapphic desire and would work, night by night, day by day, and bit by bit, to relentlessly undermine and twist her values, loosen and corrupt her morals, alter her sexuality, and infuse her soul with corruption and decadence, gradually, inexorably making of her a wonderfully loose, amoral lesbian woman completely abandoned to lust, sex, and the deepest of depravities.

***********************************

Music played from underwater speakers. Wendy could feel the strong bass beats in the form of bodily vibrations. There were also subliminals hidden in the music that Wendy wasn't aware of.

The two maids began caressing Wendy's body, feeling all over the smooth teenage skin.

Angela, the second maid, shared similar facial features with Kayla, but had brown eyes instead of green. Her statuesque body was less curvaceous than Kayla's, but she stood two inches taller and had much longer hair that was black.

Even in her dreamy state and despite the exciting sensations she felt, Wendy hesitated in the activity.

"Sarah, I... shouldn't be... doing this with them..."

"Wendy, you're a lesbian, remember? You'll do anything that's lesbian." Sarah touched Wendy's Sapphic necklace and stroked the pendant, reminding Wendy once again what her ultimate goal was.

"Mmmm... Hmmm..."

"A limitless lesbian is what you want to be. You can't put on a limit on yourself if you desire Lauren. You love Lauren."

"Lauren..." mumbled Wendy. Sexy images of Lauren flooded easily into her mind.  She visualized her teasing, spicy personality and sultry, confident demeanor; her charming, enticing smile and lovely face; her lush, shiny dark-brown hair pouring around her face and shoulders, usually loosely curled and always enchanting; her flawless, half-Hispanic brownish skin; her soft brown "bedroom" eyes; the short skirts, tight tops, high heels, and cosmetics she favored; her large breasts, narrow waist, and slim legs.  She did love Lauren...and wanted her...it was true...

"Yes, you'll do anything to seduce Lauren and make her love you."  Again, Wendy knew that was true.  She wanted Lauren crazily.  She was indeed willing to do anything to win Lauren.  She would almost sell her own soul for her... to win her love.  She wanted that pretty girl so much that it hurt.  She wanted to be her lesbian girlfriend...and to sleep with her...

"You'll need a lot of experience with girls, Wendy.  Lauren insists on that.  She wants you to be an experienced lesbian slut.  You need girlfriends...many girlfriends...many lesbians encounters...lesbian sex every day...with many different girls...

"But even if there were no Lauren, you'd still want that...to have lesbian girlfriends...to date girls and women...to sleep around.  Lesbian dating is such fun... so exciting...there are so many pretty girls you would like to get to know, and date, and make love to...You want many lovely, lesbian girlfriends.

"Of course, you have gotten off to a good start; you already have some lesbian girlfriends.  Me, for example...I'm your first girlfriend...the first person you have ever gone steady with.  You are so glad I proposed that we go steady.  You have a major crush on me.  You love being my girlfriend...You'd like for it to never end...to be permanent...and real...

"You're jealous that Lauren likes me, aren't you?  You want me to yourself...just you and me...together forever...as lovers...real lovers...no longer pretend...but real...because you are really quite in love with me...I know it...You know it...It's okay...I want you to love me.  I like it.  We both like it.  We both feel good about it...about each other...about our love. That's the way a lesbian girl is supposed to feel...a lesbian like you...

"And Madelynn is your girlfriend as well...not only your ‘best friend'...but now your secret lesbian girlfriend as well...You like the sound of that, don't you?... ‘Madelynn, my beautiful lesbian girlfriend.'   It is infinitely better than just ‘my friend', like she used to be.  You don't want her to ever go back to being a prude.  You like her too much as a slutty girl.  You want her to be a complete lesbian and a slut permanently, and you will do all you can to make sure she stays beautiful and sexy and gay. 

"You want for that relationship to be more...to deepen...to be romantic and passionate and real...because you love Madelynn...with lesbian love...You are falling in love with her...you want to...You want to make her fall in love with you.  It is your destiny for you and she to be lovers...

"You need to start going out with her.  Flirt with her.  Be sexy with her.  Dress slutty for her.  Be slutty with her...Its okay...She'll like it.  Kiss her...Touch her...You want her to touch and kiss you...often...You want to be lesbians together from now on.  You want to go all the way with Madelynn...

"There's Cynthia...that redheaded fox... You have a thing for her, don't you?  You have loved every minute with herYou could make her your own. You could steal her from Lauren. You should.  She should be your girlfriendShe's really your girlfriend already, isn't she?  You should think of her like that.  I know that sounds good to you.  Tell her...that you want to be her girlfriend...and that you want her.  Wendy and Cynthia...lesbian lovers... 

"And, of course, Lauren is your future girlfriend...the one you want so desperately.  Your crush on her is a hundred times deeper, more painful, more heart-wrenching, more dear to you than anything you ever felt for Daniel.  Forget about him.  You never really even liked him that much, and it was nothing compared to what you feel for Lauren.  You can't live without her. You don't really want her getting back together with Cynthia, do you?  And you don't want her to be with Sarah, either.  No...You want her for yourself.  You'll do whatever it takes to draw her away from Sarah and to make her love you and only you. 

"You'd like to meet a porn model or actress sometime, too, wouldn't you?  And go out with her, too.  In fact, that kind of girl would make the best kind of girlfriend.  You would like that, wouldn't you, Wendy?"

Even in a perfectly sober state, that possibility would have caught her attention; in her current groggy and erotically receptive condition, that sounded like an absolutely wonderful idea to Wendy.  "Oh...oh, yeah..."

"Maybe someone you have seen in porn...and like...That would be so exciting...You'd love that, wouldn't you?  Someone like...for instance...Samantha...oh, yes, Wendy!   Samantha...you'd love to meet her...and date her..."  

Oh!  Samantha!  Her imagination immediately embraced the notion of meeting and getting to know Samantha very personally...Yes....

"But there are so many more girls...just waiting for you...waiting and ready and willing...for you to ask them...to date them...waiting for you to make them into your lesbian girlfriends. Such as Rebecca...such a fun and pretty girl...You love being with her...She'd like to go out with you...You heard her say so...   And there's Katherine...and Melanie...you like both of them...

"And then, there's Tamara...You liked your fun with her, didn't you?  You are strongly attracted to her...and want more of her...much more.  And Madeline, that sexy girl, also at the Twin Venus Club...such a hot girl... You really like her... She intrigues you... She wants to get to know you... You have her phone number... Call her... Ask her out...

"And there's more...so many more...girls you'd to be with...and women, too...There's  my mom... She is fascinating to you...so beautiful...What would it be like to be alone with her...somewhere private... like maybe her bedroom...?  She could touch you...all you wanted...you could touch her...and kiss her...And Madelynn has a mother, too... 

"And then there's your own mother, Wendy.  Yes...that's right...Imagine...you and your mother...together...girlfriends...lovers...a mother and daughter in love...with each other...being sexual...together...so right...so wicked...so good...She'd be perfect for you...a wonderful lesbian girlfriend..."

Slowly, under the effect of the drug and subliminals, Wendy was loosening up even more, transitioning to a highly relaxed and receptive state.  The boundary between her normal, conscious personality and her subconscious self faded.  The totality of her mind was vulnerable to whatever perverted idea and carnal pleasure and depravity that awaited her.   

Sarah continued insinuating decadent values into Wendy's vulnerable brain:  "You love slutty girls, Wendy.  You love the way they look and talk and act.  You feel good with them.  Slutty girls make the best girlfriends, Wendy.  Girls like the maids...Kayla and Angela. You feel comfortable with them...and with girls like them...loose, easy, pretty, queer girls.  You like slutty girls and women, you like being with them, and you prefer their company over that of other people.  Being with them helps you feel dirty and slutty also, and to be the naughty, slutty girl of your dreams.

"Do you realize how much of a slut you already are, Wendy?  Think about it.  All of your friends--all the girls you know and like and hang out with--all of them are lesbians and sluts, you have made out with any girl who invited you, you have had sex with any girl who asked, you have several lesbian girlfriends, you read and watch and love lesbian porn, you are dressing more like a slut all the time, you check out every pretty female who crosses your path, you fantasize about them, and you even want sex with your best friend and with your own mother." 

"My mom...?   But..."

"You enjoy being slutty more than anything else you've ever done in your life.  It is so much fun.  You would never want to go back to being a prude, would you?

"...but...I don't want to be like this foreve..."

"There are two kinds of girls, Wendy...prudes and sluts.  Every girl has to choose which one she will be.  Prudes are losers.  You once were one.  Were you happy as a prude?"

Wendy had been, in fact, a frustrated, shy outsider before she met Sarah and started to try new things.   She spoke the unguarded, honest answer.  "...no..."

"So you chose to be a slut.   How do you feel about that?"

Although Wendy could not remember ever quite having actually chosen to become a slut, Sarah's statement suggested that she had, somewhere, sometime made that choice; at this point, that suggestion did not seem unreasonable and she did not resist it.  As to the question posed, it was true, Wendy knew, that she had never had as many friends or fun times, or felt as good about herself, as in the last couple of months.  Again the straightforward answer came out.  "...actually... pretty good..."

"So that was a good decision, wasn't it?  One of the best you've ever made."  Yes...I'm glad I decided...to become...a slut..., Wendy agreed mentally.  "But now you have more options and more decisions, Wendy.  Did you know that there are different kinds of sluts?  There are the okay sluts...you might give them a "C' grade; then there are the better ones, the ones who get a "B".  But some girls excel at being sluts.  They are perfect sluts, or complete sluts.  They get an "A".

"Do you know what the difference between the types of sluts is, Wendy?  Lesser sluts are not as committed.  Some of them don't want to go all the way.  They hold back.   And some of them think that they can be slutty temporarily and then go back to being prudes. 

"Let me tell you about "A" sluts, Wendy.  They are totally committed.  They would never think of going back even one step toward prudishness; instead, they are always open to trying news things, trying to improve themselves, trying to look more beautiful, trying to be more daring.  This kind of liberated girl has no morals or standards.  Modesty, chastity, and decency are laughable values of a bygone era to her.  Her ideals come from lesbian porn and her heroines are female porn stars."

Oh, thought Wendy drousily; yeah...I...I kind of...understand that...I ..I like them...too...

"Her only focus is how to seduce other beautiful women, how to make love with them more often, how to go deeper and deeper into depravity.  She is ready for lesbian sex of all types, no matter how extreme, with any sexy partner, at all times. She helps other females transform into equally slutty lesbians.  Such a marvelous type of slut is completely immersed in wild erotic fantasies, lesbian pornography of all types, crude language, provocative attire, and bold styles of all kinds.  Smoking, drinking, drugs, body art, and total nudity in public are not beyond such a girl...anything goes.

"You will never get Lauren by being anything less than an "A" slut, Wendy.  To get the best, you have to be the best.  So now you have to ask yourself, what kind of a slut do you want to be?  Do you want the top grade?"

Sarah was purposely appealing to the straight-A student Wendy had always been.  

"You don't even need to say it, Wendy.  I know what you want.  You want to be perfect.  You want to be the best slut anyone has ever seen. 

"So now decide to be a total slut.  You feel that need deep, deep, inside you.  In fact, that is who you really are, and want to be, with all your heart.  Wendy, the slut.  The perfect slut.  That is your identity, at your core...no longer a chaste and modest girl...not in any way, or to the least degree...but now let yourself be a complete and total slut. 

"You will be fully content only when you are certain no one can doubt who and what you are... a lovely, tempting, perfect slut. 

"There is nothing you desire more than that, Wendy... to let go...to get rid of all your old prudish values and inhibitions... to be a total slut... to be with other girls and women, romantically, as their lesbian girlfriends...to be in love with other attractive girls...to go all the way... to have the mind of a slut...to talk like one...to look like one...to act like one...all the time...forever..."

The commanding female voice in the subliminals uttered a long stream of words and statements to further mold Wendy.

"Slut... Slut... Lesbian Slut... Wendy is a lesbian slut..."

Countless individual sounds of women moaning, gasping, and sighing were mixed in.

"Wendy wants to seduce all pretty girls... Wendy wants to fuck all pretty girls... including the straight ones... Wendy wants to seduce beautiful women and fuck them... Sexy females make Wendy think about lesbian sex... Any thought of lesbianism makes Wendy very horny... Wendy gets wet over pretty females..."

Wendy's mind became cloudier.  It was hard for her to think. Her mind and senses were being focused on licentious precepts and physical sensations. Being almost naked and intimately close with the maids not only no longer bothered her, but, rather, she liked it.

"Wendy, I've got to leave now. I'll be back in a while," said Sarah.

"I'm going to leave you with Kayla and Angela.  Do what they say.  You can trust them.  They like you.  You will like them, too...because they are beautiful...as you can see...What's more they are lesbians, Wendy...cute lesbian girls...cute and easy...the kind of girls you like...and would like to have as girlfriends...lesbian girlfriends...They will be good girlfriends for you...because they are slutty and pretty lesbian girls. 

"This is your chance to get to know them...to learn from them...to be like them...to be with slutty girls...like yourself...They are like you...beautiful and sexy...Become Kayla's girlfriend...Angela's too...Do what they do...Think like they think...Talk like they talk...Love girls like they do...Be a lesbian like they are... Give in, Wendy...Love them...Let them love you...

"See you later, sweetie...okay...?"

"Mmmm... okay..." Wendy replied with a slight giggle as she continued listening unknowingly to the subliminals.

"My lovely maids, please take good care of Wendy. She's very hungry for lesbian sex right now. Make sure she's satisfied." Sarah emphasized the last sentence with a husky tone.

"Yes, Miss. We will do our best."

Sarah went to join her mom for thirty minutes to consult with her about the progress of their plan and especially to see how the work was going for Mary.

Wendy was guided to a blue reclining floating lounge chair. She was positioned on the floating lounge in a relaxed posture. The float was being spun around by the maids at a very slow pace. Soon after Wendy was seated, the pool lighting changed its colors, going from white to pink, purple, and blue. Individually and in groups, the lights pulsated and blinked in various patterns, alternating between those three main colors while closely following the beat and rhythm of the music.

"SLUT, SLUT, SLUT... I WANT TO BE A LESBIAN SLUT... LESBIAN SLUT... LESBIAN SLUT..." sang the seductive female voice.

In an almost silent whisper, Wendy subconsciously repeated the subliminals that pounded her ears.

From a blue PVC make-up bag, Kayla took out a silver tube of mulberry-colored lipstick and a folding make-up mirror. She licked sensually around her lips after she finished. That lipstick was then handed over to Angela, the second maid, who also applied the lipstick on her lips. Their glossy mulberry lips met together in a fervent kiss. They made sure Wendy was able to fully watch them put on the lipstick and kiss, to further enforce in Wendy's mind the association between sex and lipstick. Sidelong glances were given to Wendy in order to tease her.

Breaking the kiss, Kayla walked over to Wendy. The undulating water line was just below Kayla's breasts. Wendy was enchanted by how the large breasts of the maid jiggled while straining against the PVC. Kayla's breasts quickly filled Wendy's mind  to the point they were the center of her world.  Kayla let her drink them in for a minute, running a fingertip inside the PVC to touch one of her nipples for Wendy's benefit.  Finally, Wendy's gawking was interrupted when Kayla held up a Sapphic chain necklace above Wendy's eyes and slowly swung it side-to-side like a pendulum.

"Wendy, could you tell us about how you started your lesbian lifestyle?" asked Kayla while Angela teased Wendy's nipple through the PVC micro-bikini top.

The question was mainly for diagnostic purposes. Combined with the effect of the subliminals, Kayla's question triggered the specific impulses and thoughts that had been implanted in Wendy, which she wasn't consciously aware of, but had manifested through her actions many times. In a droning voice, Wendy repeated the ideals and beliefs that had been implanted in the deep recesses of her mind, but hadn't yet taken full effect.

Wendy's eyes never left the glistening Sapphic pendant swinging above her while she repeated statements from her hidden, subconscious memory.

"I was once a straight teenage girl who became a lesbian one month ago. I am now a pure lesbian with no interest in boys or any male. I will always remain as a lesbian. Boys disgust me. I hate males..."

Angela began kissing and licking Wendy's arms, legs, ears, leaving mulberry lipstick marks all over her body. She raised Wendy's left leg and licked the calf, leaving a long trail of glistening saliva along it. Afterward, from the PVC bag, Angela retrieved her smartphone and took over a dozen pictures of Wendy, as ordered by Sarah.

"...I desire sex with any pretty female. I want to seduce Lauren and become her lesbian lover. I am a lesbian slut who is open to sex with any pretty female..."

Using her mulberry-lacquered-nailed fingers, followed by a metallic silver lipstick tube, Angela teased Wendy's clit, causing Wendy to gasp. Kayla squeezed and gyrated Wendy's left breast through the flimsy bikini top, earning a moan from the teenage girl.

"...I will make myself pretty and sexy to seduce females..."

Each sentence Wendy uttered was meant to reinforce her lesbian conditioning. It would take more work to make those statements completely true for Wendy. During Wendy's current session, suggestions that were embedded into Wendy in past inductions were being updated or reinforced. New suggestions were also being implanted.

Angela made sure most of the lipstick marks were captured in each photo and to carefully choose the appropriate angles that would give the illusion that Wendy was fully conscious and had been kissed by dozens of women in the pool. To accomplish that, Angela applied a different lip color to her lips after kissing Wendy's body several times, before kissing again. The glitter and gloss in the lipsticks made the kiss marks stand out in the photo.

Kayla and Angela were motivated by more than loyalty as employees in the Powers household and complete personal devotion to Sarah, although they certainly did possess those qualities in abundance. Not only had both maids been thoroughly seduced into avid lesbianism some time ago, but in the days leading up to this evening's events Sarah had steered their minds to a special fondness both for middle-aged women fitting Mary's description and for this pretty Wendy who would be coming over.  From the moment they met Wendy and her mom tonight, they were both instantly enamored with them and eager to get to pursue whatever relationship with either or both of them that Sarah would permit. And Sarah intended to intensify that attraction even more.  After the maids had distributed pictures of a compromised Wendy to specific persons, Kayla and Angela would be encouraged by Sarah to masturbate to those photos, further reinforcing the lust and desire the maids were feeling towards the unsuspecting teen.

The lesbian net that Sarah had created would close in on Wendy from all directions, preventing her escape and deterring her from wanting to escape. Becoming a lesbian wouldn't just be a means to an end for Wendy, but an end in itself.  Sarah would make sure of that.

The swinging of the Sapphic necklace was interrupted when Kayla got up into the float on her fours directly above Wendy.  Kayla then held it up again.

"What about Daniel? Do you still like him?"

A small part of Wendy's old self managed to peek out, to put up a pathetic fight, but it was quickly subdued.

"I-I... still... like..."

Kayla pinched Wendy's left ear while smiling mischievously.

"No, Wendy. That's the wrong answer...bad answer. You hate Daniel. You hate all guys. You hate all males. Being near a guy makes you sick. Their smell makes you want to puke. Touching them is the last thing you want to do. You are much too good for them.  A pretty, sexy girl like you would be a total waste with a man.  You prefer to be in the company of women and girls. You only love females. You will have sex only with females."

Wendy's lips were sealed with a kiss from Kayla. The mulberry lipstick on Kayla's lips contained a powerful aphrodisiac. Wendy loved the feel of the beautiful girls' lips, slick with a beautiful, deeply-colored coating, on her own.  Wendy's desire for the maids was put into overdrive.

"You're a pure lesbian, but you don't want to stay just as a lesbian. You want to become the epitome of a lesbian slut. You would rather die than become anything less. You will do whatever it takes, no matter how extreme, to become a lesbian slut. You will always think about lesbian sex. You can't imagine life without lesbian sex. You can't ever imagine not living as a lesbian slut. A straight Wendy Love-Livingston doesn't exist and can't exist."

"I am... a lesbian... slut... Straight Wendy... doesn't exist..."

"Wendy, do you want have sex with us?" asked Kayla.

With a dreamy expression, Wendy replied, "Yes!..........or......wait......I... dunno..."

Wendy's moral fiber was struggling against the sudden acute sexual lust she was feeling for the maids.

"Yes or no, Wendy." Kayla's tone became serious.

"No... Maybe we should wait for Sarah..."

Wendy's nipples poked obscenely against her skimpy swimsuit, forming visible nubs on the PVC. Her pussy lips were gushing with wetness. However she was able to contain herself, but barely.

Wendy's instinct of not having sex with strangers still managed to kick in, but it was powerless against the mind-influencing sounds that were pummeling her subconsciousness. A specific sequence of subliminals triggered a storm of lesbian imagery in Wendy's mind, which had accumulated during all previous induction sessions and lesbian porn content that Wendy had consumed, but were usually hidden from Wendy's consciousness and only activated when she was aroused or by other means. The unstoppable rush of erotic lesbian thoughts overwhelmed Wendy and shattered the meager resistance she had left against the lesbian activity the maids were about to perform with her. Combined with the aphrodisiac, those subliminal-triggered thoughts and images constituted the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

"You don't need to wait for Sarah, Wendy. Satisfying your sexual appetite is the only important thing!  We are all lesbian girls, Wendy.  Your sexual needs don't need to wait. Do you want to have sex with us, Wendy?"

Kayla put the necklace down then grabbed both of Wendy's breasts and squeezed them.

"YES... YES... YES... YES... YES... YES... YES... YES... YES... YES..."

Each bass beat of the music corresponded with the subliminal feminine utterance of "yes". Imagery of glossy pink lips pressing against a moist labia, a nipple pressed between pink lips, a female tongue swirling around a girl's navel, and pink nails grazing a woman's thigh flashed in Wendy's mind.

"WENDY CRAVES THE FEMALE FORM... WENDY LUSTS FOR FEMALE BODIES... WENDY WANTS LESBIAN SEX... NOW... NOW... NOW!"

"Yes..." Wendy whispered as she slid one hand over Kayla's, urging on her breast-groping, and stole the other hand inside her own bikini bottom to touch her pussy, intending to relieve the pressure built up by her resistance against sluttish activities, but only stoking the fire more.

Wendy's eyes closed as more images appeared in her mental vision: Black-nailed fingers holding a silver lipstick tube and painting glossy black lipstick on the lips... shiny pink lips kissing glossy black lips... pink lips nibbling on a wet pussy... a tongue extending from between black lips and going into the love canal... both mouths opening and uttering girlish moans...

Kayla lowered her body to close to Wendy's body until their breasts almost touched. Spurred by a powerful, enhanced sexual arousal, Wendy lifted her head and kissed Kayla forcibly on the lips, swiftly cupping her hands on the back of Kayla's head to pull her closer. Wendy's sexual hunger made her actions desperate and hasty.

Replying with equal ardor, Kayla extended the kiss as long as she could, begrudgingly separating mouths for a moment, only to stress one more lesson. "Remember, you always want more sex, Wendy, not less. More lesbian sex. Always more!" said Kayla with urgency.  Quickly both girls closed the gap between their lips again.  Wendy sank one of her hands deeper into Kayla's hair, savoring the silky texture, and wrapped her other arm around Kayla's neck.  Kayla took Wendy's face in both hands as they made out.

"Kayla is absolutely right. You need to listen to her," Angela voiced her agreement in a husky manner.

"MORE... MORE... MORE... MORE... SEX... SEX... SEX... SEX..."

Wendy murmured, "Mmm... Hmmm," through the kiss. Kayla's mouth was being relentlessly explored by Wendy's tongue and Kayla's saliva flowed almost non-stop into Wendy's desperate mouth through sipping and sucking actions.

Kayla broke the kiss, Wendy moaniing in dissappointment, and rotated her body until she was in a sixty-nine position with Wendy and pulled the crotch of her bikini bottom to the side. 

"SLUT, SLUT, SLUT... WENDY IS A LESBIAN SLUT... LESBIAN SLUT... LESBIAN SLUT... MACHINE... MACHINE... LESBIAN SEX MACHINE... WENDY IS A LESBIAN SEX MACHINE..."

"Lesbian slut..." Wendy repeated absent-mindedly in a low voice as her eyes focused on the dripping wet pussy above her. Raising her head slightly, Wendy began eating Kayla's moist cunt.  In her dreamy, uninhibited state, nothing felt so right.  There was nothing she'd rather do than this...than lick the delicious cunt of another slutty girl...of a girl she really liked.  She loved this pussy.

 I love pussy...wet, sopping, glorious pussy...I need more...of this...

Angela fingered herself underwater as she kept licking and kissing Wendy's thighs, legs, and other parts of body, brushing against Wendy's labia several times and tasting the teenage girl's pussy juice. Suggestions that Sarah had implanted to the maids' minds several days ago had added an almost fanatic desire in their efforts to pleasure Wendy. Angela also kissed Kayla on the lips, as well.

After her brief tongue play with Kayla, Angela lowered her lips down to the main target: Wendy's anus. With Wendy's legs spread apart and draped over her shoulders, Angela licked the puckered hole with great ferocity. Not satisfied with just an ordinary rim job, Angela grabbed the silver lipstick tube and pushed it partly into Wendy's anus before her lips and tongue joined it. Angela's painted lips left a trail of glossy mulberry lipstick marks all over Wendy's ass, of which Angela also took several photos with her smartphone camera. It was more "evidence" of how far along in kinkiness Wendy had come.

Wendy, in her drugged state, was only vaguely aware of Angela specifically, but what she did perceive about her was very appealing.  Wendy dreamily loved the slenderness of her body; how long and how black her hair was, and how it frequently fell across and caressed her (Wendy's) body as Angela ministered to it; and the softness of Angela's lips and tongue as she felt herself being kissed and probed all over.

Similar effects were had from her contact with Kayla. Though Wendy's activities with Kayla and Angela this night would largely be lost to her conscious memory, they were registering acutely at a carnal level, and her body would subsequently retain a pronounced physical affinity for both maids.

Seeing Sarah coming back to join them, Angela ended the rim job and pulled the lipstick tube out from Wendy's ass, then dragged her tongue around Wendy's thigh and hip until she reached her waist. She grabbed Wendy's left hand and sucked on the fingers while looking adoringly at Sarah.

"Hi Wendy.  Have you been having a good time with your two new girlfriends?   I think they really like you!" 

In Sarah's right hand was a pink PVC bag full of sex toys, lubricants, drugs, and other miscellaneous items. "Alright ladies, now it's my turn. You two can go fuck each other now. Do it nice and slow, so that Wendy can see what's happening. She still has a lot to learn!"

"Yes, Miss."

The two maids retreated from Wendy, who reflexively whimpered at the loss of girl-on-girl contact

"Don't worry Wendy...You are a lesbian...and they are your girlfriends now...You can have more of them whenever you want...and you will want more of them...soon...lovely Angela...and beautiful Kayla...Now watch them..."

The maids got together on another floating lounge directly within Wendy's line of sight. They then scissored their legs together to dry grind their pussies, producing squeaky sounds from the rubbing of the two PVC bikini bottoms. Moans and gasps escaped from their lips. The sight enthralled the blurry-minded blonde, making her forget, for the moment, her own temporarily abandoned state.

While Wendy was distracted, Sarah dipped two fingers in a container of pink gel and inserted them into Wendy's anus. Wendy gasped at the cool violation.  "Wha....?"

"Shhh, darling...just enjoy it."

From another container, Sarah grabbed a pink pill and pushed it in Wendy's puckered hole. In addition to instantly raising Wendy's arousal and boosting her short-term sex drive, Wendy's anus would become much more sensitive to sexual stimulation.

Going into the pink bag again, Sarah pulled out a string of translucent pink anal beads. The toy was very flexible and made entirely from silicone. Sarah applied pink gel on the beads and additional pink gel on Wendy's asshole before pushing the long toy into Wendy's ass.

"Uh!" Wendy inhaled sharply. "What are you putting inside me?" Wendy slurred, barely able to assemble an intelligible question.

"Anal beads. Just relax, Wendy."

Though Wendy had seen those toys in porn videos, she had never tried them before.  Her fuzzy brain and sex-eager teen body were in no condition to resist this act, something she had harbored a secret curiosity about, although her clear-headed self would have in all likelihood declined an offer to try the beads, and possibly would have done so rather resolutely--although in a few more weeks, or even days, down the slope on which Wendy was sliding, maybe not ...

But right now--intoxicated with drugs, and with need roused by the maids, and with the physical memory of her anal play with Cynthia and Tamara adding to what she just experienced with Angela and Sarah--Wendy was open to another step down the same pleasurable back-door road.  

"Ugghh... Uhhh... Okay..."

Sarah pushed the entire string of beads into Wendy's anus until only two beads remained outside of Wendy's body. Wendy moaned and gasped as each bead was slowly inserted.

"What is your main goal again, Wendy?"

Despite Wendy's allegiance to and fondness for Daniel having been substantially eroded away by the brainwashing of tonight and previous days, her original prime goal of getting a boyfriend, Daniel specifically, clung persistently, if tenuously, to her conscious mind like a sinewy weed, and it surfaced reflexively: "To win Dan--"

Sarah gave Wendy a slap on the face.

"No, to win Lauren's heart! You want to seduce Lauren in order to make her fall in love with you! In order to do that, you must become the perfect lesbian slut!"

"Lauren...I must become the perfect lesbian slut..."

"Yes!" exclaimed Sarah as she started pulling some anal beads out.

"Ugggh," grunted Wendy as the beads were pulled out one by one. Excess pink gel occasionally spurted out from the rim of her anus. Wendy was already finding the novel pleasure addictive.

"Look at them, Wendy. See what Kayla and Angela are doing?"

"Yeah..."

"They're tribbing each other. Isn't that hot?"

"Kind of..."

"Don't you want to do that with Lauren?"

"I dunno, maybe..."

"You do want to grind your pussy with Lauren, Wendy. You must do it because you're a lesbian slut."

Sarah squeezed both of Wendy's breasts tightly to emphasize what she had said.

"Uhhhhhhh... I must grind Lauren's pussy against my own..." moaned Wendy through glossy fuchsia lips.

"Yes, Wendy, and you must learn to do it well. It is the next step in being a lesbian... Look closely at them again, Wendy..."

Sarah grabbed Wendy's face with both hands, directing Wendy's attention to the maids.  Wendy quickly became absorbed in the lascivious act, and started to imagine herself as a participant.  She could almost feel what it was like...the warmth from the other girl's crotch...the loving pressure on her vagina...the gyration of her pussy lips...the slipping and rubbing...like the beads sliding in her anus...wetness and movement and pleasure in a private region.  Wendy moaned softly at the combination of the sight and the imagined participation and the real-time delight in her ass.  Wendy started to close her eyes in her bliss.

"And there's more, Wendy sweetheart...watch Kayla...the pretty girl you like so much...and bewitching Angela, of the beautiful black hair, the slender body, and the smooth lips you have felt all over you..."

There was a dark red jelly double dong in the Kayla's hands. She pulled aside the bikini bottom and forced one end of the toy into her vagina with a loud gasp. While jiggling the other end of the red toy, Kayla gave Wendy a sidelong glance and a slight flutter to her long curly eyelashes that were heavily laden with mascara.

"That's another step in your lesbian evolution that you must take," said Sarah in a low voice, "that I know you are dying to take...with the right girl...or woman...and then with any girl or woman.  You know the word for it, Wendy.  I've heard you use it.  It's a dirty word...the kind of word girls like you love to say and think...for a dirty and slutty act...for dirty, slutty lesbian whores...like you...and Kayla...The word and the act...is...'fucking'."  Sarah said the word slowly, distinctly, and emphatically.  " 'Girl-fucking.' 

"That word--'fuck'--only has a lesbian meaning for you now, Wendy.  It has no meaning for you at all as it relates to boys...only to girls.  The only person you can imagine fucking is a girl or a woman, and only pretty ones.  You want to fuck them because they are pretty and turn you on.  Because you are a lesbian.  You want to fuck every attractive woman and girl.  

" 'Fuck' is now one of your favorite words...It no longer shocks you...It will bounce around your mind constantly...because it is a slutty word...and you want to think and talk like a slut...because you are a slut...and sluts love to fuck...to fuck girls...and they think about fucking other girls all the time...

"'Fuck'... You like the word... Feel free to say it...Say it often.  Slutty girls do...girls like you... They love to say the word.  You do too.  Say it now, Wendy.  Say 'fuck'."

".......fuck......."

"Say it again."

"...fuck..."

"Again."

"Fuck."

It feels good to say that word, doesn't it?  It's what slutty girls say. It makes you feel so wonderfully, thoroughly slutty.  You love feeling like that. Saying it make a girl a slut.  Saying it will make you a slut, Wendy. Say it again. 

"Fuck."

"Again."

"Fuck."

"Now say, ''I love to fuck.' "

"I love to fuck."

"I love to fuck pretty girls and sexy women."

"I love to fuck pretty girls and sexy women."

"I want to be fucked..."

"I want to be fucked..."

"...by a beautiful woman."

"...by a beautiful woman."

" 'Fuck' is a sexy word..."

" 'Fuck' is a sexy word..."

"...a word for a sexy lesbian whore like me."

"...a word for a sexy lesbian whore like me."

"I love saying 'fuck'."

"I love saying 'fuck'."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Fuck me."

"Fuck me."

"Please fuck me."

"Please fuck me."

"I want to fuck you."

"I want to fuck you."

"I want to fuck your pussy so bad."

"I want to fuck your pussy so bad."

"Fuck."

"Fuck."

That's right, Wendy. Saying and thinking it is making you a lesbian slut. It expresses so well the way you feel about other girls, and what you would like to do to them.  It reminds you of pussies and what you want to do to them...all of them...whenever they belong to lovely women and girls... 

"Fuck girls, Wendy...you want to...bad...Fuck and suck girls...and women.

"Wendy the girl-fucker...Wendy the cunt lover...Wendy the girl-lover...Wendy the woman-licker... Wendy the girl-sucker... Wendy the tit-kisser...You want to do it all...

"Come, suck my breasts. I'll let you...but only because you are beautiful...and slutty...and my lesbian girlfriend...and want to fuck girls.  Only a lesbian would kiss another girl's pretty titties...My breasts are your reward for being such an easy slut...

"Be a lesbian, Wendy...Come kiss your lesbian girlfriend.  Come love her tits. There is nothing stopping you...no reason not to...here they are.  You want them. You need them."

Sarah cupped one of her breasts and held it out to Wendy's face, moving the nipple close to Wendy's lips. All of Sarah's words rang true.  I am a girl-lover...I am a lesbian whore...I want to fuck girls...I love my girlfriend's tits...  Overcome with lust, Wendy promptly wrapped her glossy fuchsia lips around the pink nub. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmm..."

"Good, Wendy. Very Good. Don't hesitate to satisfy your lesbian needs."  Wendy placed her hands on Sarah's breast and interwove her fingers with Sarah's.

While sucking on Sarah's breast, Wendy's eyes focused on the lesbian action between the two maids. They were thrusting their hips against each other vigorously. Most of the red double dong was hidden from view. Only the center part could be seen. It connected Kayla's and Angela's love boxes together for the purpose of Sapphic copulation. Their eyes were glancing at Wendy's, communicating the message that Wendy could be feeling the same pleasure as they, if she chose to step it up further and do away with her remaining inhibitions.

As she watched, Wendy again could almost feel the sensation...of an instrument of love filling her...like it was filing the two maids...in and out...dripping cunts so close,,, touching...joining...grinding...steaming... pulsing with pleasure...

"Full lesbian intercourse...your destiny...pretty girls screwing each other with dildos...... You want to try it...once...then again...then many, many times...every week...every day...many times a day...with anyone...with everyone...as long as they are women and girls...and are beautiful and sexy...and slutty like you... sweet, fuckable girls...like you...Wendy is supremely fuckable...you like being a fuckable slut...

"And tribadism is sexy.  You want to do it, too.  So much pleasure...deep pleasure...so much fun and pleasure...between two lovely girls or women...as only two females can know...with each other...women in love...girls and women expressing their love...sucking and fucking and feeling and kissing and rubbing...

"Pussy grinding against pussy is hot... Wendy wants her pussy against another female's pussy... Wendy needs it... to prove that she is a pure lesbian... to prove that she is a lesbian slut...

"And double dildos between pussies... mmmmm, so yummy... Wendy wants to try it with another girl...

"Becoming a lesbian slut is the only way Wendy can have sex with Lauren, Madelynn, and her mother, as well as Serena Powers, and every female Wendy wants to have sex with..."

Sarah pulled her breast away from Wendy's lips, causing Wendy to whimper at the sudden loss of feminine flesh between her lips. A thread of glistening saliva connected Wendy's lips to the retreating nipple. Wendy licked around her lips with her tongue while gawking at Sarah in a lewd manner. Porn-star carnality was showing in her actions.

The items in the pink PVC bag rattled while Sarah searched for another sex toy. Wendy's eyes followed Sarah's hand when Sarah raised a metallic red bullet dildo up high. Sarah kept her movements slow, making sure Wendy's eyes could follow everything. Sarah kissed the tip with her shiny red lips and licked it along its length before reversing the toy and putting the base end into her mouth.

Wendy watched with fascination as Sarah lowered her head until the tip of the red dildo was touching her lips, which Wendy received eagerly. Sarah raised and lowered her mouth repeatedly, fucking Wendy's mouth with the red metal toy.

"Wendy loves red.  Wendy likes women wearing red clothes...red nails...red lipstick., red hair...red jewelry...red high-heels...red lingerie...red dildos...women like your mother, Wendy...so sexy in red...You'd be interested...You could love your mother...like a girlfriend, Wendy...Wendy and her mother...a sexy lesbian mother in red...a natural couple...happy together...happy in incest...mother and daughter in love..."

The subliminals kept on playing. They repeated the reminders to Wendy of how much of a lesbian slut she was, that she wanted to always be a lesbian slut, that she wanted to seduce girls, and that one of her goals was to have as much lesbian sex as possible, especially with the females she already knew and had met. Wendy was further reminded of her important goal of becoming Lauren's ideal lesbian lover, a perversion of Wendy's original intention.

Wendy's hands were guided to Sarah's breasts. Almost automatically, Wendy contracted and relaxed her fingers on Sarah's mammary orbs. The feeling was addictive to her, and she couldn't stop her hands. Occupied by the oral dildo and Sarah's breasts, Wendy was unable to see the maids, who were quickly approaching her.

"MMmmmphfff!" Wendy grunted through the red dildo when the anal beads were reinserted into her anus by Kayla.

"Wendy loves anal sex... Wendy loves beads in her ass... Wendy loves dildos in her butt... Wendy loves getting fucked in the mouth with dildos... Wendy wants to do all kinds of anal sex with Lauren as well with as her mother... Wendy wants more Sapphic anal sex..."

Wendy felt tongues licking the soles of her feet and her toes being sucked and kissed. Feeling the ticklish sensation, she tried to withdraw her feet, but her ankles where quickly held in place by the maids. Shortly, Wendy relented and began enjoying the new sensations.

Going further up, the maids worked their tongues and fingers on Wendy's clit and labia simultaneously. Wendy arched her back as her pleasure reached extreme heights. Sensing that Wendy was about to cum, Sarah withdrew the dildo from Wendy's mouth and dropped the toy before plunging her lips downward to seal Wendy's mouth again, tickling Wendy's face with her thick, disheveled platinum blonde hair.

While Wendy was going over the edge, Sarah kept her lips locked onto Wendy's lips in a passionate kiss. Saliva pooled in their mouths and was swapped repeatedly before Wendy drank it all down her throat. A final shudder passed through Wendy's body before she finally relaxed.

Exhausted by the sexual activity, Wendy went fast asleep on the floating lounge.

Wendy woke up ten minutes later feeling groggy. The lipstick marks were all gone from her body.

"W-What happened? Did I fall asleep?"

"Eating large dinners sometimes make people sleepy. You slept for an hour," said Sarah as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's alright."

"I think I had a dream."

"What was it about?"

The content of the "dream" and the presence of the maids made Wendy reluctant to describe it.

"Never mind, it's a stupid dream that doesn't make any sense."

During the group shower, the sight of naked female bodies triggered arousal in Wendy unexpectedly. Wendy struggled visibly to suppress the urge to masturbate. Mental imagery of doing erotic acts with them flashed in Wendy's mind. Sarah and the maids kept their actions in the shower strictly non-sexual and pretended that they didn't know what was happening with Wendy. When Sarah caught Wendy ogling her body furtively, Sarah simply gave a slight smile before resuming the showering activity.

After showering, Wendy and Sarah each put on her bra and panties and a short terry-cloth robe and walked bare-footed to the designated guest bedroom.  There the girls both took off their Sapphic necklaces and each sat on the edge of her individually assigned bed, facing each other.

"How did it turn out? Did your mom manage to get through to my mom and convince her?"

Oh, we convinced your mom alright, in more ways you could ever imagine.

"I think it worked out well. Your mom was just concerned about you getting some bad influences, and thought I might be part of it.  My mom managed to turn it around and say I'm actually a positive influence."

"Wow, that's great. Now, we can be friends without worries."  In that spirit, Wendy gave Sarah's perfect face, amazing long, ultra-light blond hair, and voluptuous body a friendly scan, causing Wendy's heart to beat faster.  Wendy felt strongly like hugging Sarah, as well as kissing her.

"Do you think I'm a bad influence, Wendy?"

"You're not a bad influence, Sarah. Your grades are stellar and everything works well for you. If anything, you're actually a model student.  And you have been so helpful in so many ways.  You've given me such useful advice and a good example, and you've sacrificed your own interests for me.  I don't think I can ever repay you. I don't think friendship like that counts in any way as a 'bad influence'.

"Plus...I...I..."  Wendy wanted to say this right...not too much, but not too little.  "I like you."  More came bubbling up and out: "I think you are the most awesome person I know.  I...I really like you." 

Then Wendy knew, even though she had already revealed herself more than she had intended, that she had even more to say...wanted to say...wasn't sure she should say.  She definitely felt more.  She was held back by the absence of her lesbian necklace.  Now she could be a straight girl...should be straight...not so free to gush about another girl like a lesbian would.

Her fun with Sarah earlier in the evening stole back into her mind...the stealthy touches and kisses on the house tour together...the foot play at dinner...wearing those slutty micro bikinis together later...their passion in the poolhouse...and in the pool...touching...and kissing...the emotions that filled her...and watching Sarah's glistening naked body in the shower...

Sitting across from Sarah, in a bedroom, alone together, late at night...was this the time to express the further feelings that were now spurting inside her for her beautiful girlfriend, feelings she had felt before and kept to herself, feelings which almost demanded expression? Words started to form in her head to convey her emotions: ...and you're so beautiful. I love being with you. I really, really, really like you.  I...I...I love...

"Thank you, Wendy."  Sarah was gratified by Wendy's answer, as well as with the progress Wendy was obviously making, and she was confident she knew the trajectory of Wendy's sentiments currently, but this was not the time to let Wendy consciously confess anything too deep.  Before Wendy could give voice to her congealing thoughts, Sarah changed directions.

"Wanna hear something funny Kayla asked about your mother?" The mention of Kayla grabbed Wendy's interest.

"Sure."  

"She wanted to know if your mom was a model because your mom has a fine figure and looks very sexy."

"No way, you must be joking."

"Kayla really did ask that."

"My Mom has never worked as a model. She has that kind of a figure because she works out regularly. Why did Kayla ask that?" 

Then it occurred to Wendy, as she mentally addressed her own question, that a straight girl probably wouldn't think or talk like that.  The similar--although more brazen and shocking--comments Cynthia had said to her about her mom that very morning came with sudden impact to Wendy's recollection.  And Cynthia was a lesbian.

Is Kayla gay?  Does she intend to put the moves on Mom, of all people?  Do I need to protect my mom? 

Hoping to set the record straight and quell, via Sarah, any perverted interest anyone in that household might have in her mother, Wendy felt obliged to vouch for the certainty that her mom would in no way have any inclination to reciprocate such an interest.  "My Mom is already married, not to mention she's straight."

"You think Kayla wants to seduce your mom?  Who said anything about that?  I think Kayla just really likes your mother.  But I will admit that Kayla is a lesbian.  Who knows, maybe she thought your mother was single."  Sarah smiled.

"Sarah, I know you're joking, but that's not funny."

Wendy was sensitive to the topic of her mother's love life and marital status because she realized that it had been over two months since they had last seen her father, and he often was gone for even longer stretches.  Mom had said more than once how much she missed having her chosen companion around, and Wendy sensed and sympathized with her mother's frustration at being alone without a mate so much of the time.  It really was as if Mom were single, in a way, so Sarah's jest hit closer to the mark than Sarah knew, Wendy thought. 

Wendy understood her father was working hard for the sake of their family, but still Wendy wanted her father to be home more often.  She had been getting concerned that her mother's disillusionment with the situation might one day lead Mom to become seriously disaffected with her husband.

Just then, in the back of her mind, a brainwashed sentiment passed through Wendy: All men are pigs. Stay away from men. They are selfish.  Don't trust them.  Better to live without men...  She didn't process those exact words cognitively, but they now colored her deliberations about her father.  Her original feelings of missing him and wanting him to be home for her and Mom faded; her allegiance to him waned; and a certain disdain rose within her for this apparently selfish man. 

Vague impressions floated through Wendy's feelings:  All men are like this...uncaring, selfish, rude, crude... They are so unlike women...Beautiful women are better off without men...Women need other pretty women...and girls...to be happy...  Wendy started wishing for a better situation for her mother.

Sarah spoke, diverting Wendy's thoughts from her home situation. "You can't really blame Kayla for appreciating a woman's beauty.  She can't help it; she's a lesbian. She's just complimenting your mom's beauty and sexiness. It's not like she would do anything with your mom."

Hearing that Kayla was a lesbian changed something inside Wendy, about how she now felt about the maid.  It meant Kayla maybe really had been flirting with her earlier.  It meant Kayla was perhaps available, open, and receptive...to...to a pretty girl...like... herself.  It made Kayla even more interesting to Wendy, somehow...and even more attractive. 

Maybe what Sarah said is true...that lesbians are more beautiful than straight girls...

Wait... Why am I thinking like that?........................Oh yeah........I'm supposed to be a lesbian.  As a lesbian, I'm supposed to think like a lesbian... It did not occur to Wendy that, as she was not wearing her necklace, she did not necessarily have to think like a lesbian at this moment.  But the habit of so thinking was becoming more engrained, with or without the necklace.

Wendy continued her analysis of Kayla's earlier behavior. The revelation of Kayla's sexual orientation also helped to explain the unusual attention Kayla had lavished on Mom at dinner.  Did Kayla have a particular thing for older women?  Was that a common type of relationship--older with younger women?  Until Cynthia had broached the subject that morning, suggesting that she would be interested in a sexual relationship with Mom, and that Wendy should try to understand that point of view, and until Sarah had revealed Kayla's interest tonight, Wendy had never thought about it...yet.  But she would.

Wendy wondered whether Mom had noticed Kayla's interest.  She questioned whether she should ask Mom about it, or tell her of Kayla's remarks about her.  And how would Mom react?  Would she find it gross?  Or would she like it?   Wendy thought she could normally predict Mom's responses, but...well...Wendy's own feelings were so mixed up the last couple of months, she wasn't sure she could trust her instincts in matters of love anymore.

As she said those last phrases in her mind, it struck her that she had just joined Mom, Kayla, and love in a single concept...and that she was thinking about her Mom in a lesbian context.  How strange.  Wendy wondered where that all had come from.  That would be so unlike Mom.  My mom isn't a lesbian!

Having said that to herself, it occurred to her that someone, somewhere, sometime recently had told her that Mom may be a lesbian.  Who said that?  Where?  Wendy could not place it.  But it was coming back to her...yes...Someone had implied that...or so it seemed.  Of course WWendy did not believe that...It couldn't be true..............Yet...what about...what about Mom's behavior earlier tonight?  It was...a little...odd...for her...

Wendy recalled her mother at the dinner table this evening.  Mom had been looking at her a lot...at her face...her dress...and at...yes!  Mom was eyeing my breasts!...of her own daughter!  The thought made her flush with confusion...and embarrassment... and excitement...

There was for Wendy an additional feeling, one of vindication in having worn the sensual silver dressAs Sarah had predicted, Mom ended up seeming to actually like it, after all.  At a more hidden level, Wendy sensed the dress had worked...had fulfilled its purpose...had made another woman look at her...at her pretty breasts...her own mother, even... A satisfaction crept over Wendy, deeply hidden from her conscious mind. While Wendy's intellectual side revolted at the recognition of her mother's unchaste visual caress of her precious young tits, deep inside she was simultaneously wondering how she might lure her mother into more of the same.

Wendy thought back further...this time almost eagerly, almost hoping, in a supressed level of her mind, to find confirming evidence...................to the tour of the mansion.............Oh!.... Even during the tour...Mom had kept looking back at her...at her legs...and more.  My mom was checking me out!   The thought hit her with horror mingled with a prurient thrill that made her pussy tingle. 

And then, Wendy remembered now, during dinner, Mom had also been staring at Mrs. Powers...and then at Sarah!... 

At the time, at dinner and before, Wendy had noticed Mom's looking, at her and at the others, and it had struck her as kind of strange behavior for her mom, but Wendy had figured the opulence of the setting and the celebrity-like company had made Mom gawk a little--so what?--and Wendy had made nothing of it.  But now...on reconsideration... maybe Mom was doing that...because she was... interested...in that way...

Wendy realized that thought should have made her sick.  But it didn't.  It made her hot.  What if...what if Mom really...really was a...a ...

An image of Mom flashed through her mind...Mom laying on a satin-covered bed...in red satin lingerie...like a porn actress...her lips red...waiting for her lover...another woman...or a girl...her daughter... Wendy's pulsed raced...wow...my sexy mom...

No, no, no!  Wendy shook her head to rid it of the image.  Mom is not a lesbian!  She can't be!  She is a good and decent woman!  Wendy told herself that her conclusions about Mom's wandering eyes at dinner couldn't be true, she was making a big deal out of nothing, and the evidence over the years overwhelmingly pointed to Mom being both straight and chaste.

Sarah broke into Wendy's reflections. "Wendy, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No...it's okay..."

"About your mom...is everything okay with her?"

"Why?  What do you mean?"

"Well...I just couldn't help notice...there were times tonight when she seemed kind of...kind of sad...or lonely, you know?"  Mary had not really seemed like that at all this evening--if anything, she was the opposite--but now that Sarah had said it, the power of suggestion worked on Wendy and she thought maybe she saw the same thing.  "Almost like a single woman.  Is everything okay between her and your dad?  Or...maybe that's none of my business...never mind..."

While the subject was a private family matter, Wendy welcomed the opportunity to talk about it with someone, especially one as trusted and perceptive as Sarah, since this issue, of Dad's detrimental effect, his male effect, on Mom's happiness, had started bothering her, just now--thanks to insinuations whispered to her earlier, by Sarah in the pool and subliminally.

"That's okay...Yeah, I think she does miss my dad...He's away so much...That's occurred to me, too.  Actually...I think it's kind of getting old, his never being around for her.  Sometimes I wonder if it's not getting to her.  She hasn't said much about it, but...yeah, I think, when she has to go to something like this, by herself...and even at home..."

"I thought so....You know how you can just pick up vibes sometimes?  Well...at least she has you.  You know, Wendy...you should spend more time with your mom...maybe get to know her better...do things with her... You could cook together... watch TV together... go shopping together...help her get a more stylish look...do make-up together...do each other's hair...do a picnic together... go to movies or to dinner sometimes...like, you know, mommy-daughter dates...I bet she would like that...  It'd help make her happier if she were closer to you.  Have you ever thought about that?"

Yeah...how weird...I was just thinking about that...at least I think I was...something like that...earlier tonight...at dinner...or maybe before...for some reason... 

"Well...not a lot...but I'd like to..."

"Your mom deserves to be happy, you know?  And you are the key, I think.  If your dad can't help out, then you can step in and take his place.  In fact, right now, she needs you more than she needs him.  Like tonight...that was a good start...I could tell she was happy that you were with her tonight.  She certainly seemed to enjoy your company.  It was almost like a first date, in a way, wasn't it?  You know what I mean?  I mean, a first mommy-daughter date. 

"And...did you notice...how much your mom was looking at you tonight...at your dress...like she really liked it.  She later told my mom how at first she thought it was a little too much, but then it grew on her and she changed her mind.  She ended up thinking you were hot in it.   She thanked my mom that I gave it to you, and the other things..." 

"Really?!  My mom said that?!"  

Mom thought that I was...hot? That idea would play on Wendy's mind for a while...as Sarah intended.

"I told you she'd really like you in that dress.  You should try some of your other new clothes at home, for your mom....help her get used to a freer and more interesting style.  Your mom just has to get used to a few things like that that are new and different for her.  I think my mom helped her understand that, and that times are different now, styles are different, what was once unacceptable is totally cool now, and like that.

"I think my mom and yours ended up really hitting it off with each other, especially after we left and they had their little talk.  In fact, I think they may be getting together again sometime, maybe with us or not.  We'll see..." 

Well, at least that problem, of her mom giving her a hard time about her new direction, looked like it was solved for Wendy.  She was relieved and grateful to her beautiful girlfriend for that. 

"Sarah, thank you for helping me out.  Tell your mom thanks, too."

But that still left the matter of Kayla and Mom.  Wendy wanted some assurance that Kayla wouldn't try anything...inappropriate...in the future...with her mom...if they ever came over again.  Even though she, Wendy, was dabbling in lesbianism, because she had to, she certainly didn't want Mom getting caught up in it as well.  There was an element of doubt now inside Wendy, despite telling herself that her mom was straight--that she had to be straight-- that there might nevertheless be some possibility that Mom could end up swinging that way under the right, or wrong, circumstances, and that the sensual Kayla could potentially be that circumstance.

Wendy wanted to feel Sarah out about the whole thing some more.  Sarah did, after all, seem to have a pretty keen insight into people.  Did Sarah think Mom could possible reciprocate Kayla's interest?   She thought best to start with an innocuous question about Mom.

"Sarah...what do you think of my mom, now that you have gotten to know her a little better?"

"Oh, your mom is great...really a nice lady...and quite a fox, too...don't you think?"

"Oh...yeah..."   My mom, the fox... Before today, Wendy had never thought of her mother like that; but now...she was starting to...

"She is a little bit too straight-laced, maybe," Sarah continued.  "I don't mean to be critical...but your mom would probably enjoy herself more if she loosened up a bit...you know...got a little wild sometimes...experimented.  That's what life it for, isn't it?...to have various experiences...have a good time...fulfill oneself...experiment.  I think people who do that are the happiest ones."

That was not Wendy's philosophy of life at all, or at least it didn't used to be, but now that Sarah had said that, it did make some sense, and Wendy did not offer an argument.

"And you can help her.  We all have an influence on other people, and so do you.  You could introduce her to new things, pastimes and entertaining things and items that you have come to enjoy, that you could share with her.  Help her loosen up a bit...and... experiment... " 

Sarah knew Wendy would immediately mentally jump to some of the darker things from which she had been getting her kicks recently...her lesbian porn...her clothes...her girlfriends...  And, indeed, that is the first place Wendy's mind went.  But Wendy knew she could not share things like that with her mom...could she?  Is that what Sarah was talking about?.......

"She is such an attractive woman.  And she looks so young...she could be your sister...or your girlfriend."  Wendy thought that was a little bit of an odd way of saying that...although...now that Sarah had said that...it had kind of felt that she and Mom had been there tonight as each other's date...almost more than as mother and daughter...for some reason...and that was not an unpleasant thought...a little weird...but cool... 

Mother and daughter girlfriends...I've heard of that before... somewhere...like it was a good thing...a nice thing...me...and Mom...

"Yes," Wendy chipped in, "my mom has always been naturally beautiful...and...and well-preserved, you might say."

"Yeah, I see that.  She has a lot of potential, too...to look even better,  Have you ever thought about that?"

Yes! I just thought that tonight!  How did Sarah know?  "Like, you mean, if she wore some makeup...?"

""Yeah...like that...and if she did something with her hair...and wore clothes that are a little more...you know...daring..."  Wendy did know exactly what Sarah meant, as those were her own very thoughts earlier.  "You know, Wendy, your mom would look great in red."  That's what I thought, too!!  "She should try some nail polish...and some lipstick...in red..."  Wow...Sarah and I are on the same wavelength here...how weird...

"I think you're right, Sarah; only thing is, Mom isn't the type to buy herself stuff like that..."

"Maybe I can help."  Sarah got up, went over to a desk in the room, retrieved some items, and returned.  "Here, give these to her."  Sarah handed Wendy a fancy little white bag containing eight tubes of lipstick and eight bottles of nail polish--most but not all in various shades of red--some mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow, and blush.  "Just tell her they are my gift to her, kind of a thank you for coming over tonight."  Sarah knew Mary would have a fond, if not excited, recollection of herself and would be flattered and even turned on some to hear the teen beauty had been thinking of her.  "That will get her started.  You may have to give her some pointers, and maybe some encouragement, as well.

"Oh, and I know something else that might help."  Sarah got up again and withdrew two business cards from the desk and handed them to Wendy, who inspected them before she put them in the bag.  They were imprinted on the front side with artwork of waterfalls and bamboo plants, and words including "New Image Salon and Spa...women's hair cutting, styling, and coloring; manicures and pedicures; cosmetics; skin care; massage; spa...Mai Ling, owner-operator" along with the address and phone number.  The reverse side of each card was marked "Good for one free makeover and one deluxe spa treatment".

"Mom and I love these ladies.  They do such a good job.  Because we have sent them so many referrals, they gave us some of these cards as a thank-you gift to hand out to our friends."  Sarah did not mention that one of those cards had found it's way, via Elena, into Madelynn's hands several weeks ago; she had used it and had returned home a very different-looking girl.

"Thank you, Sarah; that's really nice of you.

"So...Sarah...I was thinking...my mom doesn't need to worry about...you know...about Kayla...does she?"

"Kayla?  Oh, no...of course not.  Unless, of course she uses that lipstick...or goes to see Mai...then maybe she better watch out!"

Wendy saw Sarah was just having some fun once more, but then Sarah turned a bit more somber.  "But, Wendy...let's just say...for fun...that your mom and Kayla did get together...and liked each other...what would be so bad about that, really?  Maybe it would make your mom happy.  I know you agree, as I said before, that a beautiful woman like your mom deserves to be happy...and if she isn't getting what she needs from your dad...then...she has options...  And who would you rather see your mom with...some other man... or a nice girl...a beauty...like Kayla?"

Wendy didn't know what to say.  Of course she would not prefer for her mom to cheat with some man...a fling with a girl like Kayla would definitely be better than that...

No, no, no...that wouldn't be right!  But Wendy could not quite tell herself why it wouldn't be right...and why that might not, in fact, make her mother happy. 

Hearing Sarah talking again about her mother as a lesbian's object of desire, combined with her own inability to dislike the idea, and her own brief risqué musings a few minutes ago about her mom, was making Wendy feel really uncomfortable, so she attempted to talk about another topic.

Wendy talked to Sarah about what she had done with Cynthia on the previous day, but didn't mention the club and certain details and made the activities sound less sexual than they really had been. However, Sarah already knew exactly what had happened.

"I've done some stuff with girls I've never met before. I'm not sure if I did the right thing. Will that make me a slut, Sarah?" 

Sarah got up and sat next to Wendy. Suddenly Wendy was mindful of the fuchsia lipstick she wore and was glad she had remembered to apply a coat after her shower.

"It's alright, Wendy. Doing it a few times won't make you a slut, unless you think of yourself as a slut."

"I'm definitely not a slut." 

"I believe you, Wendy." Sarah draped an arm around Wendy's shoulders and kissed the side of Wendy's head affectionately.  Wendy liked the affection and wondered what was next. 

"Thank you, Sarah."  This close, Sarah's beauty was almost overwhelming.  Wendy gazed at her soft lips.

"Besides," added Sarah, "what would be so bad about it if you were?"

As with the similar question a moment ago about her mom and Kayla, Wendy had no immediate answer.  She knew she should have one, should be able to readily explain a basic position of hers, like this one.  But she couldn't.  Maybe it was the lateness of the hour, she thought.  My brain must be fried because I'm so tired.  

Sarah had posed that question rhetorically, not really expecting or wanting Wendy to give her a response.  But she did want it to work on Wendy's mind...which is exactly what it did, over the course of this night and coming days.

Wendy found herself fading as she became lost in Sarah's beautiful face and, without realizing it, staring at those magnetically soft lips.  Wendy wanted to kiss Sarah, almost desperately.  And she was certain, sitting close to her like this, that was going to happen...at least that... maybe more...

More...more with her sexy girlfriend Sarah...would be...nice...lovely...

Sarah yawned. "I'm getting kind of sleepy."  She arose, removed her robe, and put on a sheer black night gown over her black satin bra and panties right in front of Wendy in the guest bedroom. By now, Wendy was fairly comfortable with seeing Sarah changing clothes and was also comfortable being watched by Sarah as she changed clothes, yet she felt a rush of adrenaline nevertheless watching the platinum blonde partly disrobe and then dress herself provocatively, as if just for her.

Thinking Sarah's choice of night gown was a hint of doing something sexual, inwardly hopeful that was the case, Wendy also picked a sheer night gown from the closet, but it was white in color.

However, despite wearing sexually alluring garments, Sarah never specifically told Wendy that she wanted to do anything sexual for the night.  Without doing anything more, Sarah called it a night, announcing, "Let's continue tomorrow."

Sarah secretly enjoyed teasing Wendy, and Wendy was clearly disappointed. Sarah smiled to herself.  Wendy had expected something more. She instinctively wanted to do more.

Wendy mustered her willpower and calmed herself enough to lie down and get in her bed.

Her eyes looked at the glinting Sapphic necklace on the nightstand. Wendy had an urge to put it on. Her body was telling her she wanted more sex, specifically lesbian sex with another female. The Sapphic necklace now subconsciously represented to Wendy a ticket to lesbian sex, but without another female she could only do it alone. She was still experiencing the lingering effects of the pink pills and the subliminals. Sarah reached over to the lamp and, with a flick of a switch, turned it off.

Wendy tried to go to sleep.  She had thought she was drowsy before retiring, but she couldn't shake the frustration of not having sex with Sarah after having expected something in that regard before this night ended. The bed squeaked as Wendy tossed and turned in it. 

Sleep fled further as she pondered Sarah's questions.  What really is so bad...about being...being a...a slut...?  Sarah is kind of like that...and she's really nice.  And Cynthia is pretty wild, too...but I really like her...and... Try as she might, coming up with a good answer eluded her. 

She was sure she could organize her thoughts about it better when she wasn't so sleepy, she told herself.  No matter what, I don't think I want to be a slut...I mean, I don't for sure...I'm pretty sure...

And then her mind drifted to another part of the conversation they had just had.  What about Mom...and Kayla...?  If they...got...got together...if Mom were a...a lesbian...or became one...would that be so bad...?  Wendy could imagine Kayla making somebody happy.  I do want Mom to be happy... And what about Cynthia...and Mom?  What would that be like?  Wendy knew she liked--no, loved--being with Cynthia.  Would Mom, too?

Wendy next pondered what Sarah had said about her, Wendy, being a key to her mother's happiness.  Yes...it was obvious Mom had really liked being with her tonight.  Do daughters really date their mothers?  That had never crossed Wendy's mind before tonight...she had never heard of it...but...why not?  She could be more of a companion, at least, for her mom...that wouldn't hurt at all.  Both of them would like that. They could share this and that with each other.  Wendy and her beautiful mother...

Wendy's thoughts next churned with a review of the evening.   She relived getting ready at home... thinking of Lauren at home and later, and getting herself off about it...driving with Mom...their conversations...meeting Kayla...and Mrs. Powers...the tour...holding hands with Sarah...the covert kisses...dinner...grace and the hand-holding...the footsies with Sarah...enjoying the company and the view of Mom and Mrs. Powers...Kayla serving...and flirting...dressing in the micro bikinis...her breast-duel with Sarah...the pool ...swimming and kissing and fingering...seeing Kayla again...dozing in the pool and dreaming something...hard to remember...but it was awesome, whatever it was...showering with those pretty girls...their beautiful, wet bodies...the intimate chat with Sarah just now...Sarah sleeping a few feet away...her long, platinum hair caressing her face and body... that hot, curvy body...in that sexy satin bra and panties and nightie...so close...

While Wendy had loved everything about this evening, her experiences had whetted her appetite for more. 

Wendy dwelt on her feelings for the other females she had been with tonight... Mom...Kayla...wasn't there another maid, too...a very pretty one... that she liked?  with that long black hair?   Would she see her again?  What was her name...? 

An image flashed through Wendy's mind of four females out on a double date, walking into a restaurant, holding hands...Mom with Kayla, and Wendy with that other maid...

No, Wendy...that's weird...

And then there was Mrs. Powers.  Wow...she is something... Wendy had never before felt such a strong attraction to a mature woman that she could recall..........unless......... had she felt like that about her mother...before? ...........No......not that I remember......  But she wasn't sure now...   If I haven't.......why not? ...My mom is a fox...

Wendy felt one sexual urge after another possess her.  Sweat drenched her body. Staring at the green numbers on the digital clock, Wendy realized that over an hour had passed by quickly. She concluded that she had to take care of her sexual needs or else she would remain awake all night. Seeing that Sarah appeared to be asleep already prompted Wendy to act on her urges.

At around the time she came to that decision, Wendy heard the faint sound of a violin playing coming through the walls. Who would be playing a violin in the middle of the night?  As she got out of bed and opened the door, the sound became more noticeable.

A sudden thought came to Wendy's mind, causing her to walk back to her bed hastily. Wendy quietly picked up her smartphone. While grabbing the device, the double Venus necklace caught her eye. Hesitating for a few moments, Wendy also picked it up before heading out the door to the hallway and closing it behind her.  Once the door was closed, she draped the necklace around her neck and fastened it.

Sarah rolled over in her bed and smiled after hearing Wendy close the door. Wendy was falling into every trap, Sarah reflected with glee. This was going to be good.

Following the faint light source, Wendy's curiosity made her temporarily forget about her needs. She discovered that it was Kayla, who was playing the violin in the living room right next to a table lamp. 

Kayla!--of all people--the young, dark-haired beauty who had crossed paths with her repeatedly over the evening, the girl Wendy had eyed and liked and felt a mysteriously quick attraction to.  The girl Wendy now knew to be a lesbian.  For some reason she did not understand, Wendy was excited to be there together with Kayla, alone.

Wendy realized she was barefooted...and missing something...she wasn't quite fully presentable...not in the way she would have liked to be..for Kayla...  I should have worn my high heels...  But the feeling of deficiency quickly passed when Kayla spoke to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Wendy."  It was the first time Kayla had addressed her with the informality of her first name alone, having called her "Miss", "Miss Love-Livingston", or "Miss Wendy" previously. Wendy noticed and liked the familiarity, as if they were now more friends and equals than servant and served.  "Did I wake you up?" 

Wendy hid the smartphone behind her body. At that moment, with a hand behind her back, a posture that left her front side more exposed, Wendy realized with embarrassment that she was letting Kayla see her dressed in a sheer nightie that revealed the silver satin bra and panties she wore, causing her to feel uneasy. Another mild shock came to Wendy when she noticed Kayla was dressed in the same sheer white nightie that she was. Squinting her eyes slightly because of the dim light, Wendy discerned the dark red bra and panties she wore beneath.  Why is Kayla dressed like this?

A subliminal female voice spoke:  "Wendy... relax...You like Kayla... Look at her...all you want...It is okay...She is so pretty... Wendy likes pretty girls...lesbian girls...like Kayla... She is what you want...Let her see you like this...dressed sexy...nothing is wrong...You like her looking...You want her to look...Show her your body...Look at hers...It is okay...

"Two pretty lesbian girls...alone together...what a nice thing...natural and wonderful...like this...late at night...dressed for sex...alone together...so good and sweet..."

After several moments, Wendy started to feel relaxed and comfortable, her anxiety over the sensual way she and Kayla were attired with each other turning mysteriously into enjoyment instead, not noticing that her sudden calmness was abnormal.

"No, I'm just heading to the bathroom. I heard someone playing a violin, so I came over here to check it out."  Wendy almost said, "...so I came over here to check you out," but caught herself in time.  "Didn't realize it would be you."  You...the amazing Kayla...

Wendy was very pleased, without fully understanding why, that it was Kayla whom she had found.  It seemed almost as if she had been looking for her, had wanted to see her, was destined to meet her here. 

Wendy's eyes drifted over Kayla's perfect face, deriving exhilaration in once again soaking in the young woman's beauty.  Her coloring was striking, porcelain-like skin contrasting dramatically with her dark sable hair, which seemed to Wendy as a flow of liquid bitter-sweet chocolate.  Kayla had removed her ponytail, enabling Wendy to see that the maid's shiny hair was longer than she had previously assessed, fully draping over her shoulders and then some.  It was perfectly straight and sleek, blunt cut precisely, with thick, long bangs, the remainder now floating around her face loosely. Wendy's eyes lingered on Kayla's lips, glistening with compelling dark mulberry color.  ...so pretty...

As Kayla read the wonder so in evident in Wendy's face, she smiled inwardly in secret delight at her power over the smitten girl. 

"I wasn't able to sleep, so I'm just playing some music to relax myself."

"Wendy...Kayla likes your mom.  Your mom might be a lesbian.  That would be okay.   You hope she is a lesbian...or becomes one...like you..." said the subliminal female voice. "Wendy thinks her mom is sexy..." 

For a moment, Wendy thought of her mother...thought about how good she looked tonight...always looked... her blond hair...smooth skin...what beautiful curves she had... how nice--how thrilling--it was to have held her hand earlier.  What a fox...

Wendy focused on Kayla again.  "Same here. Your music sounds wonderful..."  Unspoken words finished the sentence in Wendy's mind: ....and you look wonderful.  

"Thank you, Wendy."

Wendy's eyes drifted to the curves of the maid's body. She could make out the slimness of the young woman's waist, the smoothness of her legs, the flair of her hips, and the swelling shape of her breasts encased in translucent red satin through the transparent white nylon.  She looked to see if she could make out the dark spots and little tents marking her nipples showing through...and she could.  Wendy's face flushed a little and she imperceptivity took in a quick breathe.

"Wendy's mom is a sexy lesbian woman.  Wendy wants her to be a lesbian." 

Again, for some reason, Mom came to Wendy's mind...and what Sarah had said earlier...about her...and Kayla... 

"You want Mom to be happy.   Mom likes younger women and teen girls...like Kayla...and you.  Kayla would make her happy.  You want your mom and Kayla to be lesbian lovers."

Mom and Kayla...together...lesbians.  The concept seeped back into her mind...mixed with Sarah's question:  "Would it be so bad?".  If Mom and Kayla wanted...each other...that would be...okay...I guess...  The idea was starting to making sense.  If it made Mom happy...  Someone...someone should love her mom...and make her happy...Why not Kayla?  The imagination of them together was beginning to appeal to Wendy...and make her warm...

"But Wendy wants Mom, too... Wendy also needs Mom's love... Wendy is Mom's first love...

A tinge of jealousy touched Wendy.  Mom belongs...to...me... 

"Kayla will help Mom become a lesbian.  Mom needs Kayla.  Kayla will share Mom...with Wendy."

"Wendy wonders what her mother's pussy juice tastes like..." suggested the voice.

An image of her mother in full-cut, white panties, as she had seen her at home in times past, flashed into Wendy's mind.  But this Mom had on white nylons and heels, in addition to the panties...and nothing else.  And, in Wendy's mental image, there was a wet spot on the front on the panties...a spreading wet spot...making the front of the panties transparent.  Wendy could see Mom's....Mom's dripping...............cunt....... 

Wendy's mouth reflexively started to water.

"Wendy needs her mom's pussy," continued the voice. "Wendy wants to fuck her mother..."

The lewd taboo subliminal suggestion sent an emotional wallop through Wendy, which caused her to shiver. She suddenly visualized her mother, clad in the same scanty white articles as a second before, lying on her back on a pink satin-covered bed.  She lifted her legs and pulled off her panties.  Her radiant mature womanhood glistened with love-dew.  She spread her legs.  Her red-painted lips parted, whisper-soft inviting, "Wendy...come here..."  

"Wendy wants to be her mother's favorite lover.  Kayla can be Mom's lover, too; and others, as well.  Mom needs many lovers...of course.  You would like that...You want that for her...so that she will be happy, and fulfilled, as a desirable and sexually-hungry lesbian women.  But Mom belongs to you, above all others.  Win her...do whatever it takes.  Make Mom into a lesbian.  Tease her. Make her yours.  Win her heart.  Wendy wants to fuck her mother...and have her mostly to herself...

"And Kayla, too... Wendy wants them both...Make them both love you."

 

"Anyways, I'll be going now." 

"You must have Kayla.  You want her.  You want her now.  Such a pretty lesbian girl.  Kiss her."

As Wendy turned and started to leave, her body froze, as if caught in a Star Wars tractor beam.  Not only were the subliminal messages entreating her mind to stay, but Wendy's body did not want to part with Kayla, either.  Embedded into it by Wendy's forgotten sex with Kayla and Angela in the pool and the accompanying psychological manipulations was a specific physical appetite for the maids.  Her body surged with urges for a repeat of her prior carnal contact with Kayla. 

The subliminals prodded her on:  "Wendy, kiss her.  Kayla wants to kiss you.  She is attracted to you.  She wants to kiss you because you are sexy and pretty and your body is curvy. She likes what you are wearing...your bra and panties and nightie...She likes the way you look...like a lovely porn star.  That is the way you should look.  You always want to dress like this for your girlfriends...for your lovers. 

"She also wants to kiss your lips because you have painted them with a beautiful color.  She wants to feel and taste your lipstick.

"You like Kayla," whispered the voice. "You love her lips...painted, deeply colored, soft and slick. Maybe she wore that lipstick just for you, Wendy.  Maybe she picked a shade she thought you would like...so that you would want to kiss her.  And you do like it, Wendy.  You love it...you love Kayla's lipstick, and her soft lips.  They look so delicious.  You want to know what they feel like on your lips...and what they taste like. 

"You like Kayla.  You like her a lot.  Maybe you have fallen in love with her.   Show her how much you like her, Wendy...how much you love her.  Kiss pretty Kayla,"

Wendy turned around, facing Kayla again.  Wendy's eyes focused on those inviting, dark-painted lips, shimmering in the dim light.  It seemed in this moment that there was something utterly compelling to Wendy about a girl with beautiful lipstick on her lips, about Kayla with mulberry lips.  It was just so... so sexy...and irresistible.... 

Without understanding why, Wendy became aware of the creamy coat of fuchsia on her own lips.  It felt good, physically and emotionally.  And it made her feel prepared...and ready...for...whatever...  She was glad that she was wearing it.

Her gaze dropped again to the red satin encasing Kayla's breasts, and roamed over their bulging curves and smooth flesh.   

Wendy's heart raced.  She felt she had to let Kayla know how she felt about her.  She knew it wasn't quite right that she was having feelings like this about another girl, and, more so, for one whom she had just first met a few hours ago. But she could not let this opportunity pass by unfulfilled, at least in some way.  Maybe she would never see Kayla again after tonight.  Maybe this was her last chance. 

Wendy took two steps toward the faintly smiling, silently waiting Kayla.  Kayla's breathing caused her shiny lingerie to shimmer around her breasts in the subdued light.  They seemed to quiver with desire for Wendy.  Wendy tore her eyes away from them to peer into Kayla's green eyes, even lovelier up so close. 

She placed her right hand on Kayla's shoulder.  The sleek, soft material underneath rewarded her touch. Kayla's silky, sable hair flowed onto the back of Wendy's hand with a soft caress.  Spicy perfume wafted toward Wendy. 

Illumination flitted for a moment through Wendy's mind:  What she liked about Kayla, as much as anything else, was her overall femininity.  It called to her.  Her graceful movements, her quiet, melodic voice, her womanly fragrance, her softness, her smoothness.  Her feminine body.  So unlike a guy; so much better, her own mind whispered to her. Wendy's enlightening impression, which she didn't stop to analyze, was that she simply loved womanly essence, and Kayla had that in abundance. Wendy loved the lush femininity of this girl.

Once again Kayla's glistening lips drew her gaze.  They looked so delicious.

"You have been so helpful today, Kayla.  I want to thank you...and I would like to kiss you good-night."  Despite Wendy's words being somewhat ambiguous, intentionally so, both girls understood that the form of the thank-you would be the kiss.  "May I?"

Kayla nodded her head just enough and smiled just enough more to communicate affirmation. 

Wendy leaned in, tilting her head, slowly approaching Kayla's lips with her own.  Even though Wendy had by now kissed at least six different girls, and should have been ready for the sublime sensation of touching lips with another girl, she was still caught off guard.  As their mouths met, Wendy was shocked, almost, by how soft and wet Kayla's lips were.

...a girl's lips...soft and smooth and sweet...

After five seconds, Wendy thought she had better stop before she could no longer call it just a good-night kiss, and started to break it.  But Kayla gracefully slid her hand into Wendy's blond hair, cupped the back of Wendy's head, and softly drew her back.  Their lips met again, Kayla pressing her mouth with passion onto Wendy's.  Instinctively, Wendy glided her right hand down from Kayla's shoulder onto the front of Kayla's nightgown and gently rested it on Kayla's left breast. As they made out for a minute more, Wendy couldn't help but lightly run her hand over that breast, feel and heft its shape, and enjoy the rising of Kayla's nipple through the nylon and the satin.

Both girls, as if by silent mutual agreement, finally separated their faces and, while maintaining a gentle embrace, looked into each other's eyes and upon each other's face for a few more silent moments.  At length Wendy took a step back. 

Wendy was now a bit embarrassed but also somehow quite pleased with herself, for having shown Kayla her feelings and collected Kayla's obviously receptive reaction.  She understood with gratification that she, Wendy, had made Kayla interested in her, and that she had, for a brief minute, been able to draw Kayla into intimacy with herself.  Wendy smiled at Kayla, who smiled back warmly.

It did not occur to Wendy, at least at this moment, so used was she now to kissing one girl or another on essentially a daily basis, that this was the first girl she had kissed totally of her own initiative. Though the subliminals gave Wendy a nudge, the act was voluntary. It was starting to become a habit for her, but she wasn't consciously aware of it. Due to her frequent exposure to Sarah's suggestions Wendy became oblivious to the ramifications of kissing girls on a daily basis. Sarah didn't want Wendy to realize what she was truly becoming until it was too late.

"Goodnight, Kayla."

"Goodnight, Miss Wendy.  See you tomorrow.  Sweet dreams, darling."

Wendy tingled inside at the endearment as she walked toward and into the hallway, smiling and turned on.  Wendy strolled at a rather leisurely pace, in a euphoric mood. 

Kayla resumed playing her violin.

A few steps into the hallway, it finally dawned on Wendy what she had done--kissed a girl whom she had only met a few hours ago.  Her internal objection was not primarily that it was a girl she had kissed--by now, that was very natural to her, and her guilt about it came and went quickly--but that this had occurred so fast.  

Am I that easy?  Am I becoming a...a slut?  Sarah's rhetorical question echoed as an afterthought within Wendy subtly:  ..and would that be so bad?...

Worse, her sex drive was now revved up, much more even than before, and she was still sexually unfulfilled.  I need more. 

The thought crossed her mind that maybe she should have done more, or tried to do more, with Kayla. 

Subliminal suggestions encouraged Wendy to think further about Kayla.

"You want to touch Kayla's smooth, silky hair. Yessss... you do, Wendy. You love the hair of pretty females. You want to smell it, feel it, and embrace it. Beautiful hair, like Kayla's, is meant to be touched by beautiful lesbian girls like you..."

For starters, she had desperately wanted to touch Kayla's hair.  It was so sleek and silky-looking, so chocolaty, so dark, and had such a wonderful, fresh fragrance, as Wendy knew from having been so close to it a few seconds ago.   It was to be touched, consumed, inhaled.  She imagined herself plunging her hands into Kayla's beautiful hair. What would it have felt like?  She wished she had done that.  At least that.  Maybe she would have buried her face in that curtain of dark luster, as well. 

"Wendy is a lesbian slut girl... Wendy wants to fantasize about touching and feeling the bodies of sexy girls... Pussy-loving lesbian whore slut... Non-stop homosexual lust for Wendy... Sapphic queer girl Wendy wants to become a super lesbian slut... Promiscuous lesbianism at any time, all the time!"

But then, there were those lips.  She had not had enough of them; not nearly enough. And if she had just been able to touch those breasts more...no one would have minded.  Why hadn't she done that?  And...

A scenario materialized in Wendy's mind.  She and Kayla were rolling around on a golden bed in their lingerie, satin nighties entangled between their entwined bodies, passionately making out, hands roaming freely.

I wish I would have....It would not have been so bad...It would have been nice...so nice...She wanted me...She wanted more...so did I...I should have...I'm wearing my necklace...It would have been okay... Bubbling up from a deep region of her brain, she added:  ...like a slut...I'm a lesbian slut...I love being a sexy slut...

This late at night, clouded with weariness, and altered by the experiences, drugs, and subliminals that had worked on her over the evening, Wendy's conscious mind was wandering down paths she would not allow it to traverse during more lucid times.  At this hour, the dark, subconscious Wendy permeated her internal discourse with only token inhibition.

Wendy's suffocating conscience again gasped a counter-message into her head:  You shouldn't be kissing girls at all, much less wanting to ‘do more' with one of them, not to mention imagining yourself to be a slut... 

But Wendy quickly suppressed that gasp, justifying herself on the grounds that she was doing what she was supposed to do.  I have to...to be a lesbian girl ...it's getting easier...I'm getting easier...looser...queerer...I'm supposed to...It felt good...Kayla wanted me...I'm a good lesbian...a seductive lesbian girl...I'm supposed to be one...wearing the necklace...I love being one...I want to be one...I need to go further...for my goal...for my Lauren...the girl I love...I want more...  

But now...especially now...Wendy needed release. And fast!

Wendy struggled to keep her composure until she was away from Kayla's sight. She had no idea that the true purpose of the violin music was to mask the subliminal sounds that were playing in the background. Wendy ran down the hallway.

Erotic images of females flashed in Wendy's mind, mixed with sensual moans, gasps, and sighs. The full faces of the females were never shown. Every representation of femininity appeared in random order and repeated countless times: Red lips curved in a sexy smile; emotionless eyes with thick curly eyelashes and blue mascara; red-lacquered finger and toe nails; red fingernails grazing a thigh; red-nailed toes pressed against and stroking a pussy; glossy red lips opened in a silent moan; solid red anal beads being pulled out of the ass; red lips kissing a metallic red bullet dildo; red lips parting to reveal the tip of a red dildo which slowly extended out of the mouth; the same red dildo, extending from the mouth, going into a woman's ass; pink-nailed fingers parting the labia lips widely; five red-nailed fingers slowly going into the vagina and not stopping until the whole hand was inside; a glossy pink-lipped mouth gagged with balled-up red satin panties; milk spraying from red-nippled breasts and a pink-lipped mouth opening wide to collect the shower of milk...

Wendy quickly shut the door behind her once she was in the bathroom. She went to the sink counter and placed her smartphone down, panting from sexual desperation. Seeing the image of herself in the mirror froze Wendy for a few moments. 

Her reflection took her breathe away.  Is that me?  I'm...I'm beautiful!...I'm so beautiful...

There was a subsequent echo in her mind:  ...and fuckable...so very fuckable...

During her swimming and showering Wendy's makeup had washed off and her fishtail braid had come undone.  So now her blond hair hung loosely and wild around her head to just beyond her shoulders and the only make-up she had on was her fuchsia lipstick.  It was a rather natural look, except for the lip color, and she still looked great. 

Like Mom, and her natural look, she reflected as she recalled her mom with even more fondness than she usually did.  But Mom would look better with lipstick...and full makeup...and wearing something....daring...wearing...red...

Wendy focused on her reflected lips.  They were so kissable...almost irresistibly so.  She was glad both she and Kayla had been wearing lipstick.  That had made their kisses perfect...maybe inevitable, as well...coated lips sliding along creamy, coated lips...Wendy could feel it again, in her mind.  She closed her eyes a minute to savor the vivid recollection.

Looking at her reflection again, her focus fell upon the way she was dressed.  She knew that was a major factor in the way she felt about herself now as she stared at her image.  The silver bra and panties she wore were beautiful, she thought.  She loved the way their reflective surface, tight fit, and brazen cut attracted compelling attention to her pretty teen breasts and to the secret place between her legs.  It was all quite visible through the white nightie.

There was something almost...almost bridal...about her in this outfit.  An image flashed in her mind of herself like this but also with a veil on her head, sheer stay-up white stockings, and white high heels, walking down an aisle in a church.  She smiled at the ludicrous visualization.  Although...it was a sexy image...like something one might see in a porn flick... 

My body is nice...I like the way it is displayed...I'm so curvy...I love my sexy body.......

And Kayla had also been dressed in white...like this...as if...as if she were a bride as well...a sexy bride...the other bride.  When they kissed--the scenario reappeared in Wendy's mind--when they kissed, it was like two brides...two lesbian brides...in love...

But beyond her lingerie and her slightly more natural look tonight, there was something else. There was something different about her reflection.  What was it? 

Finally it dawned on Wendy.  It was...it was the look on her face.  At this moment, Wendy did not see the innocent, naive countenance she had been accustomed to seeing all of her life previously.  No...something was different...She had on her face an expression of...of carnality...or carnal passion.  There was something knowing...and lust-filled...or even almost...almost lascivious...written on her face...that she had not quite noticed before...something maybe kind of...........slutty..........

Strange...she had seen that kind of look before...that look of unbridled lust...not on her own face before, so much, that she remembered...but...

I look like a porn star...a lesbian porn star...just like one.  I'm just beautiful...like one of them.  I'm...the kind of girl...the kind of girl I like...the kind I could...fall for...so pretty....

The fascinated Wendy had actually seen that look on her face before, in fact many times by now, but had failed to recognize it fully for what it was.  But now--standing by herself in one of the many bathrooms in the luxurious mansion of Serena Powers, in the middle of the night, having been worked up by Sarah and by a new batch of subliminals and by her drugged lipstick, wearing the passport to lesbian indulgence that her necklace was, having just made out with the beautiful maid, seeing herself framed by a mockery of bridal virginity, in an outfit befitting a porn star, and seeing her face flushed with and possessed by lust--the true nature of her facial expression dawned on herI look like a beautiful slut.

That was the primary reason her reflection had shocked her...and pleased her.  It had rocked the remaining good-girl side of Wendy to see herself in this light.  But that part was sleepy tonight; and as for the more hidden, darker side of Wendy, the part of her who admired lesbian porn models and actresses, and lusted after them, and all other pretty girls and women, that part that was on the prowl right now...that part was smitten by what she saw in the mirror.

The subliminal female voice was commanding and stern in her messages: "Wendy is a lesbian slut... lesbian nymphomaniac... lesbian seductress..."

In her mind's eye, Wendy saw a pussy with the labia spread apart by red-nailed fingers. The pussy was glistening with wetness. "Lick me..." whispered a pair of glossy red lips repeatedly in a husky tone. With her eyes closed, Wendy held out her tongue and licked the air.

A large pair of breasts appeared. The nipples and areolae were painted glossy red. Milk dripped from each nipple. Below the nipple was a pair of parted pink lips.

"Suck me..."  Wendy puckered her lips and sucked.

Red-nailed fingers pulled apart ass checks to reveal the anus. A pink-nailed finger was circling around the puckered hole.

"Taste me..."  Wendy extended her tongue again.

Thighs spread apart invitingly.

"Fuck me..."

A pink-nailed hand held the ankle of a woman's leg, pink lips kissed the red high heel shoe, and a tongue swirled around its shiny surface.

"Take me..."

A studded red collar was tightened around a woman's neck by pink-nailed fingers.

"Control me..."

Wendy blinked. She was suddenly aroused by her own reflection. In a quick motion, Wendy took off her nightgown, leaving only her silver satin bra and panties on.  Without thinking, she kissed herself in the mirror. Shortly after her lips touched the mirror's cold surface, Wendy withdrew abruptly.

Why am I kissing my own reflection? I must be getting too aroused. 

Picking up her smartphone, Wendy accessed the Wifi network of the mansion to go online. She went to the mobile version of the porn website Sarah told Wendy to visit regularly. As she was glancing through the thumbnail images, for some reason, her thoughts drifted briefly to the memory of the conversation in which Sarah told her that Kayla was interested in her mom.

I need to stop thinking about it...

But, Wendy's body responded differently. Her eyes drifted to the incest category.  She had seen the listing before but had found the very idea disgusting, certainly not for her.  Yet...now she was at least...curious...and her thumb tapped on the button. The newest lesbian incest video was shown. A mom and daughter were hugging each other in the kitchen. Their lips met together in a passionate kiss. The mother was dressed in bright red lingerie and garish makeup. Her nails and lips were glossy red. The daughter was in a school girl outfit: a blouse, a pleated skirt, knee-length white socks, and shiny black Mary Jane shoes. Her blonde hair was braided in two pig tails.  

Vacantly, Wendy decided to wear her hair like that some time at home...for her mother. She pictured Mom and herself in their kitchen at home...talking...smiling...flirting... thinking about kissing each other. Then, Wendy's right hand started to go to her crotch.

In a flash of realization, Wendy stopped her action abruptly. She couldn't believe she was about to masturbate to incest porn.

What am I doing? This is sick! This is going way too far!

With a tap, Wendy quickly closed the web browser. With nothing else to occupy her senses, Wendy became aware again of the faint sounds of Kayla's violin.

"Lesbian incest is hot... Mom-daughter sex... Yes... Do it... Wendy... Incest... with your mom..." said the subliminal voice.   An image from earlier in the evening popped into Wendy's mind...of sitting across from her mom at dinner...Mom ogling her...drinking in Wendy's cleavage...But Wendy now pictured herself wantonly pulling the neckline of her dress wide aside to give Mom a better look... Then she visualized Mom, now dressed only in transparent red bra and panties, standing up and strutting over in red high heels to Wendy's side of the table...

Weakened by the subconscious messages and images, Wendy's self-control shattered.

"I'm just going to do it this once," Wendy told herself.

"There is no limit for Wendy... Lesbian slutdom all the way... Do everything lesbian... Incestual lesbianism... Yum, yum, yum, yummy!"

"This is wrong..." whispered Wendy as she fingered her pussy while watching the twelve minute video clip.  The actions of the mother and daughter in the clip engendered intermittent flashes in Wendy's imagination of behaving similarly in her own home with her own mother.

Wendy's pussy juices were running down her inner thighs, creating a dark wet area on her silver satin panties. She raised her left leg on the marble counter as if trying to grind her pussy against the edge. Outlines formed on the panties as her fingers pushed against the satin fabric. Stars exploded in Wendy's eyes when a powerful orgasm coursed through her body.

After cleaning herself up, Wendy walked back to the guest bedroom with wobbly legs. She noticed no light coming from the living room down the hall and assumed the maid was gone, leaving a faint sense of disappointment within her. Very quietly, Wendy sneaked back to the guest room.  Once in the room, she quickly glanced at Sarah to make sure that she still seemed to be asleep, crawled into bed, and soon fell asleep.

As she had staggered down the hall toward the room, shame had started to rise in Wendy for what she had done in the bathroom.  She hoped she could just go to sleep and forget about it.  

Never again... I don't want to...can't...do anything like that again...ever...it's sick...  But those were now just words in Wendy's mind.  It no longer felt sick. Just the opposite was true.  Incest now seemed...and felt...wickedly good.  I don't want to do that or think like that again..........no more............hardly ever again....at most, one more time, then that's it....   

She was grateful that at least her activity in the bathroom would never be discovered by anyone else.

But, that was far from the truth. All of Wendy's surfing data was secretly logged and her actions in the bathroom were recorded on video. After she was sure Wendy was asleep, with a quick check on her smartphone, Sarah was able to see how Wendy reacted to lesbian incest porn.

Satisfied with Wendy's progress to this point, but realizing the task was far from complete, Sarah said quietly to herself, "More work needs to be done."  She walked out of the guest room and shut the door.

There were hissing sounds as the room was being hermetically sealed automatically. Gas poured out from the air conditioning vents, putting Wendy into deep sleep.

Once the gas cleared up, Sarah returned with Kayla and Angela, who were pushing a wheeled cart that carried a special machine: the M.M.D. (Mind Manipulating Device).

The machine consisted of a special helmet connected via tubes and cables to a sophisticated apparatus. It was a general purpose device that could do dreams, mind control, and memory modification. Though it was less powerful than the immobile machines in the lab, the M.M.D. was sufficient for the work Sarah was going to perform on Wendy this night.  Assisted by the maids, Sarah secured the helmet on Wendy's head...

The M.M.D. brought Wendy to a dream-like state, making her able to experience events in the mind, but wholly unable to differentiate  what was real and what was not. It would also blur the distinction between Wendy's own thoughts and feelings with those that were being imposed on her.

Wendy found herself sitting in front of a vanity, wearing a white wedding dress. She was in the middle of putting pink lipstick on her lips. Looking around, she saw an unfamiliar room. Every piece of furniture was silver and everything else was bright white.

Am I getting married? But, who am I getting married to? It must be Daniel!

The lipstick wasn't the glossy kind, so Wendy applied lip gloss on to the layer of lipstick on her lips. She did it enthusiastically. Her eye make-up was next. Metallic silver eye shadow went on her eyelids, followed by thick black mascara and eyeliner. A glint right above the neckline of the bodice made Wendy aware of the Sapphic necklace she was wearing. Huh? Why am I wearing this? Something felt wrong.

Chirping sounds of singing birds outside the window interrupted Wendy's thought, successfully distracting her.

Wendy smiled as she got up from the chair. She noticed sheer white stockings covering her legs and feet. Looking around, she saw shiny white 4-inch high heels. Instinctively, Wendy placed her feet into the shoes. Every toenail of her feet was painted pink. She loved the feel and look of her legs and feet.  She was glad her toenails were painted and her feet were in sexy high heels for her wedding.

Looking at the white carpeted floor made Wendy aware of a floral bouquet on the floor, as well as a trail of pink flowers that led outside the room. Wendy picked up the bouquet and followed the trail of flowers...

When violet flowers started appearing on the trail, Wendy raised her head up. She found herself inside a church. There was someone standing in the distance next to the altar. Is it Daniel?  Bright light made it difficult for Wendy to see.

There was a loud creaking sound, causing Wendy to turn around. The wooden double doors closed shut. When she turned back to face the altar, she could see better. Wendy dropped her bouquet in shock.

The person standing near the altar, facing away from Wendy, wasn't Daniel or any man, but a woman, and she was also wearing a white wedding dress.

What?  A woman?  Are we getting married?  Wendy's initial shock was moderated by the machine in a second to astonishment, then to mere surprise.  But the idea of marrying a female was preposterous.  At least for a second or two, until that assessment was dismissed by the machine and gave way to mild curiosity. 

Wendy took one tentative step toward the altar.  She saw that the other bride's gown was beautiful, and whoever it was obviously had a nicely-curved body. Can we?  Should we?  The notion of marrying this woman seemed less questionable, and possibly feasible. 

The teen bride took another step forward.  Who is it?   Now Wendy was intrigued.  One more step toward the altar.  Could it be Sarah?...my girlfriend?  She's so beautiful.  I wouldn't mind marrying her, really...at all... The prospect of marrying a female had just become favorable.

Despite her initial misgivings about marrying a female--instead of...um...Who else was it that I had in mind?  Oh, well...wasn't important--Wendy could see that it wasn't as weird as it had first seemed, especially if she were marrying one of her girlfriends.  In fact, lesbian marriage was seeming more normal and desirable every second, now.  The machine made sure of that. It didn't give Wendy the option of thinking about marriage in a heterosexual context.

She took two more steps. Or is it  Madelynn?...my secret girlfriend?...such a very pretty girl....I would marry her...

Daniel had faded away completely as a candidate in Wendy's mind.  As had all men.  Females were now not only the preferred option...they had become the only option. Yes. This is the way it should be...yes...

Another three steps.  Is it Lauren?... Lauren is my true love.   Wendy now remembered that.  I should marry her...that would be perfect...

She took four more excited steps toward her bride.  The only question remaining was not whether she would marry a woman, or should, or wanted to, but who exactly was her bride. 

Slowly, gracefully, the other bride turned to face Wendy.  A veil covered her face.  Wendy stepped closer.  Perfume wafted Wendy's way.  Wendy could see lush red lips smiling through the veil.  The gown revealed the breathtaking cleavage of two tremendous bridal breasts, nestling in white and silver lace. 

Wendy's pulse raced.  Whoever this was, Wendy wanted her. 

One final step forward. Wendy touched the veil and, with butterflies in her stomach, gently lifted it.

Wendy froze when she recognized the beautiful woman.  Shock coursed through her.  She fell back a step, then two.  Wha...?! What's going on?  She staggered back two more steps, then a third.  This was the last person Wendy would ever have expected to see.  Instinctively, Wendy retreated further.

"Mom? But..."

The sight of her mom awaiting the exchange of marital vows with her was astonishing beyond belief.  She just stared at her prospective bride for a minute, her mind in turmoil. 

"Wendy, come to me. Don't be afraid," said Mary through glossy red lips. Her voice echoed in Wendy's mind.  It was a siren's song, wrapping around Wendy's brain.  Wendy felt her initial strong resistance start to yield some.

"No, this is... wrong..." Wendy whispered.

Her backwards walk came to a halt when her shoulders hit the wooden doors.

"Love isn't wrong. Wendy, please come to me... to your dear mother..."

Wendy slowly shook her head left and right. "No..." 

She tried to battle with her herself, but every second, Wendy's heart was less in it.  Part of her wanted to go to her mother, she now knew.  But her mind raced with questions.  How is this possible?  Why Mom?  Does she want to marry me?  Why?  When did we date?  I don't remember getting engaged.  Is it even possible to marry her?  Should I?  But...that would mean...that would mean sex...sex with my own mother!  I can't do that!  No...noooo...

Her refusal was abruptly terminated as the machine swiftly planted new truths into Wendy's mind.  An authoritative female voice whispered, "Incest is the highest form of filial piety... It's the ideal way to love your mother... If you really care about your mother and love her, you will want to help her to become a sexy lesbian... You want to seduce her so that you can have lesbian sex with her... Your mother needs you, Wendy... She needs your love, your body, your mouth on her pussy, and everything that's lesbian from you..."

Erotic feelings suddenly arose in her body. Wendy felt heat in her loins. Her nipples swelled and strained against the bra.  It felt so good...so right...made her want to give in...

But Wendy nevertheless remained in place.  Her natural aversion to incest with her mother was deeply embedded.  True, that ethic had definitely been undermined, to a degree, by her real-life indulgence with incest porn in the bathroom earlier that night.  That experience had left her fascinated with the sin as a fantasy, though still repelled by it as a realistic possibility.  And that incident had softened Wendy up for this dream-state scenario.  Just the same, Wendy still regarded a mother-daughter sexual relationship with a fundamental abhorrence and at this moment she persisted in struggling against the sensual feelings and persuasive voice that were tempting her to change her mind and to violate this taboo.

Sapphic imagery flowed into Wendy's mind:  A lesbian pendant adorning swelling cleavage; glossy red lips kissing glossy pink lips; female tongues intertwining; red-nailed fingers squeezing a breast through a white bodice; pink-nailed fingers going around a waist; red lips kissing a white high-heeled shoe and licking up the ankle towards the calf; a white skirt dropping on the floor through feminine legs; red-nailed fingers running up smooth legs to their inner thighs and circling around a white chastity belt; pink-nailed and red-nailed fingers interlocking; a white satin bra cup being pulled down; red-nailed fingers clenching a breast; red lips enveloping a nipple; pink lips opening in a silent moan; red-nailed fingers unlocking the chastity belt with a silver key; the chastity belt falling to the floor; pink lips mouthing the words "fuck me"...

Instinctively, Wendy's fingers reached for her clit, but only found something hard blocking it. Her other hand joined it. She soon realized that she was wearing some sort of metal underwear that prevented her from touching her pussy.

"Go to your mother. Only she can liberate your womanhood; only she can provide you with what you need..." whispered the stern female voice. "GO NOW!"

Reluctantly, Wendy picked up the bouquet and walked down the aisle towards the altar, to her mother, passing by many rows of pews. The voice uttered truths as she walked.

"You are attracted to girls.  You like having sex with dirty, pretty teen girls.

"You like beautiful older women now, as well.  You are, in fact, highly attracted to sexy older women--like Sarah's mother, and Madelynn's mother...and above all, your own mother.  You love their maturity...their mature beauty...their sexual experience...the way their breasts may droop some...that is so sexy... either a trim waste or maybe a bit of a tummy pouching out...their wide, motherly hips...so sexy...so mysterious...like Mom...

"Their mature breasts and experienced pussies hold great mystery and allure for you.  You absolutely must touch them, kiss them, taste them, explore them, love them. 

"You like your mom, Wendy.  You like her sexually.  She is the kind of woman you like.  You could fall in love with her.  You should make love to her.

She is the one you desire...a beautiful lover...for you...

"Lesbian incest is okay.  It is silly to worry about it.  Yes, it is a naughty and perverted thing.  But that is why you are so curious about it...why it interests you...why you want it ...why it is so good...and right for you...because you are a wicked and perverted lesbian girl... You definitely want to be one...and sex with your mother will make you even sluttier than you already are... You like that...and want that...to be sluttier...and more of a lesbian whore...a fuckable slut with no inhibitions...through sex with your mother...

"You are a lesbian... A lesbian has sex with women... Your mother is a woman.

"You can have lesbian sex with your mother.

"Lesbian sex with your mother is incest.

"Incest is the best form of lesbian sex.

"You want it.  You want her.

"Your wicked desires will bring you such pleasure.

"You love pussy...

"...wet, sweet pussy....

"...like your mom's..."

With every step Wendy took, her sexual arousal increased. Clear feminine wetness was drenching her inner thighs.  Despite her physical response, however, her mental resistance to incest with her mom, though ebbing more, was still intact.

Wendy scanned the awaiting mother-bride as she approached and then locked onto her mother's eyes once she arrived at the altar. The close-up view of her mother's beautiful face, cleavage, and curves stirred strange feelings in Wendy's body. Positive feelings were enhanced, distorted, and perverted. Negative feelings of revulsion due to incest as well as doubts were suppressed. Sapphic desire towards her mother was reseeded and amplified.

"Wendy, my love...don't you like me?  like this?"  

Suddenly, more visions of her mother, one after another, pressed upon Wendy's mind, each one as Wendy had never seen her mom before.  Each incarnation left on Wendy's subconscious an indelible impression of her mother's potential for beauty and allure, and an amplified, permanent physical and emotional attraction to her. 

First, Mom was dressed in a tight, mid-thigh purple satin slip, without a bra.  It hugged all of Mom's feminine curves, highlighting her nipples, prominently visible in silhouette; the overall shape of her very large breasts, which drooped attractively under their considerable, unsupported weight; and her wide maternal hips.   Her lips and nails were pale lavender, eye shadow purple and silver.  Her remarkable hair shined in hues of silver and violet, and was styled high on her head in a braided crown.  She smiled, and turned to give Wendy a view.

Then, the vision transformed to one of a reclining Mom in a full-length, long-sleeve body stocking of sheer, lacy black nylon.  It hugged her figure precisely, wantonly revealing her shape and all other details underneath.  She wore long, dangling diamond earrings, diamond bracelets, and a diamond choker; black nails; heavily-applied black and silver eye make-up; and black PVC stiletto thigh boots.   Her brilliantly ruby-red hair was long, glossy, thick, and straight, with bangs.  She held a lit cigarette casually between the long-nailed fingers of one hand.  Her look was seductive, experienced, hard, worldly. Looking directly at Wendy, the visionary Mary took a long drag on her cig and exhaled a lengthy cloud of grey smoke through her black lips.

The next version of Mary was a playful woman with deep silver-blue lips and nails and shoulder-length pale pink hair, styled attractively in waves and thick volume.  She wore a sundress of white, blue, pink, and silver patterns, with hot-pink high-heeled sandals and stay-up tan nylons, the lacy tops of which were exposed by the short skirt.  Her ears sported three-inch silver hoop earrings.  The halter style of the dress featured narrow front panels extending vertically over each breast, leaving most of their inner and outer slopes exposed.  Holding her hair up with her hands, she turned completely around, showing Wendy her utterly bare back.  At the completion of the turn, she winked and smiled at Wendy and blew her a kiss.

Next Wendy saw Mary in a white leather corset with red laces.  The upper halves of her enormous breasts exploded over the top, exposing the upper sections of her areolae, painted in bright red, matching her lips and long nails.  The corset held up white stockings and her feet were shod with 4" red high heels.  Blue-black hair, cut in an acute page-boy style, surrounded her face.  Her shaved pussy was bare, and Mary idly played with her labia with the red-nailed fingers of one hand, while she sucked on a finger of her other hand, a sultry look on her face aimed at Wendy. 

Last, Mary appeared in a loose, transparent babydoll of shiny emerald green nylon.  Her  high-heeled sandals, g-string panties, jewelry, lips, eye shadow, and nails were all gold.  Her long hair streamed down her body in a profusion of loose curls, colored a light golden brown with prominent streaks of pale gold-blond, platinum blond, and darker brown.  Her braless breasts, also tipped with gold paint, were easily discernable, and seemed larger and firmer than ever before.   Mary cupped and squeezed them through the brief nightgown, while staring Wendy in the eye with an inviting smile.

This thrilling woman of so many enthralling looks utterly mesmerized Wendy.  Her knees weakened and her heart fluttered as she took in these versions of her mom.  Finally she managed to speak: "But...but Mom...when...?...why?..."

"I was just waiting for you to grow up, Wendy, my beloved.  This is the real me.  Who I always have been, inside.  Just waiting for you.  Now you are old enough...for our love..."

Another wave of erotic imagery flooded Wendy's mind to create and promote within her incestuous Sapphic desire and lust:

Wendy was with her mother sitting in opposite ends of a bath tub sharing a bubble bath. Aromatic red flowers floated on the water. Raising her right leg, Wendy let her mother suck every one of her toes...

Wendy sat naked on the kitchen counter with her legs spread apart. Kneeling on the floor between her legs was her mother with a wide-opened mouth. Wendy poured red wine between her breasts, letting it flow all the way down to her pussy, and then letting it trickle down to her mother's mouth...

"Noooo..." Wendy's mind still struggled against the incestuous Sapphic imagery.

But the machine didn't give Wendy reprieve as it continued bombarding her mind with messages of lesbian incest. "Yessss... You want it... You crave it... lesbian incest... lesbian sex with your mom..."

Mother and daughter were once again in the church at their wedding.  "Mom, I..."  She was going to say, "...I don't think I should do this...Even if I want to...It's...it's not right........ I think......or...I thought........Is it?......................................or is it?............"  But her mom headed her off.

"I love you too, honey," Mary embraced Wendy and kissed her deeply on the lips.  "As my girlfriend.  As my lover.  As my future wife. There is a higher and better love for you and me to explore now, a new love to fill our souls, a love for each other beyond mother and daughter. 

"I have become a lesbian...for you, my sweetheart.  I want you to be a lesbian...and to be my lesbian wife.  Only then will our love be perfect.  I want a homosexual relationship with you.  We both want it.  We need to consummate our love with sex...beautiful queer sex.  It is our destiny.  Please be my lover.  Be my daughter and my wife and my whore, darling.  Will you marry me?"

Wendy's concept of and desire for a conventional marriage--or a relationship of any kind with a man--was in the process of being obliterated, and replaced with a purely lesbian concept of marital union, one which specifically included mother-daughter incest.  From this point on, she would find it increasingly difficult to picture herself with Daniel or any other male, not just for marriage, but for any other social or sexual purpose, and her desire for union with a male, already diminished over the last several weeks and, especially over the last few hours, would disappear completely over time, due to the influence of the machine.  She would have a hard time reminding herself about needing to continue to pursue a heterosexual goal, and she eventually would lose all of the remaining interest she thought she had in it

On the other hand, per the blueprint of Sarah and Serena, Wendy would commence, progressively more, to want, hope for, fantasize about, agree to, and pursue relationships of all kinds with pretty girls and women.  Every cute girl and attractive woman she would cross paths with would be a candidate for her erotic and romantic interest.

If Wendy's heterosexuality--such as might be remaining--managed to revitalize itself again in the future, she would receive more sessions in the machine--once, twice, or however many times might be required--each time restoring her to a state of lesbianism until, at last, she would forevermore be "beyond the point of no return".

It was not unexpected that Wendy, at first, would often proceed with hesitation, reservations, questions, doubts, internal confliction, and vacillation--as had been the case with her so far. But the anticipated ultimate effect of her indoctrination was that, over time, she would yield to a perception that it was all natural, right, and good.  Ultimately, she would become so acclimatized to the lesbian world that she would swim easily in its many waters and play freely on its varied shores.  In time, it would be heterosexuality and sexual temperance that would appear to her to be the deviant, unfathomable lifestyles. Her lesbianism would become absolutely pure and unquestionable.

Even now, in the inner mind in which Wendy was living this vision, the idea of marrying her mother, which had initially shocked her, was starting to seem reasonable, proper, and inviting.  She still harbored some pronounced reservations, but, with more manipulation, she would see it as an inevitable and beautiful thing.

Well...............maybe...maybe it does make sense...after all........I love Mom...as a good daughter........I want her to be happy.... She certainly is a good-looking woman... beautiful, actually.......even.........sexy......a very sexy bride, in fact........I love being with her... I want to love her...the right way............ If I can marry my mom, then maybe....maybe I should............. And then I could show her my love.............. ......with .............sex....? ............Could I do that?................Do I want that?............... Can that be right?.................

The machine sensed a lingering doubt.  Wendy had been gradually warming to the idea of lesbian marriage in general, first, and then specifically marriage to her mom, and was developing a definite attraction to her mother, but that attraction needed a push to get her to accept the concept of actually having sexual relations with her.  This would take some doing and Wendy would take a step back for every two steps forward, but the machine was patient and unyielding. 

The machine shifted tactics to memory modification.  It probed Wendy's memories of growing up with her mother, found what it wanted, then distorted them, and added some fiction. 

In real life while Wendy was growing up, Mary had been careful not to parade around the house in her underwear--almost always white, plain, and conservative--but there had been some times when Wendy had indeed seen her mom in just bra and panties, such as when they both needed to be in the bathroom together for a minute while getting ready for the day, or passed in the hallway between bedrooms and the bathroom, or when Mom was in her bedroom getting dressed or undressed or lying on her bed for a nap on a hot day, and Wendy happened past Mom's room.  If Mary had had sons around, she would have never allowed them similar informalities, but it had been just the two girls, and her husband was away so often that he had not been much of a factor. There had also been a few times when Wendy had seen her mom naked, as when they were showering in a common shower or changing in a locker room at a swimming pool or water park or beach. 

No one had made a big deal out of these events, and Wendy, while she had taken some note of how her mom's developed body differed from her own, had never stared more than a second or two nor thought much about it afterwards.

Wendy's memory of all that now started to change.  Now she remembered that whenever she had seen mom in her underwear, she had been captivated by the deep cleavage and smooth, bulging contours not hidden by the bra, and the way Mom's breasts would wobble as she moved and walked, and that she would usually try to peak between Mom's legs to see if she could make out the bulge or color of Mom's blond bush through her panties.  She remembered that she had been pleased when Mom would wear her nylon panties, as they were thinner and permitted details to show through better than her thicker cotton ones.  According to her new memory, she especially had liked the times Mom had just come out of a steamy bathroom, or was sweaty on a hot day, so that moisture made the panties almost transparent.

Her altered memory now included the recollection of a time when she had passed Mom's bedroom on a hot summer day when Mom had laid down on her back in her bra and panties for a nap, the door being cracked open, and Wendy had espied Mom with her head tossed back, eyes closed, blond hair splayed around her head, and mouth open, uttering a series of urgent whimpers, while one hand played with a breast and the other hand delved deeply into her panties, vigorously working herself over.  From her angle, Wendy had been able to see her mom's blonde public hair and pussy lips through the stretched leg hole in the panties, as the fingers rhythmically dipped in and out.  Before she had left, she had witnessed her mother groan and wet her panties and bedspread as she orgasmed.

She would also now remember another time in a shower room at a swimming pool.  Only Mom and her two daughters had been in the room, all naked.  Her sister had been concentrating on herself, but Wendy had watched her mom and her breasts as she washed herself, and moved and leaned and bent and spun, and lifted her arms as she shampooed her hair, lifting her breasts and making her nipples stand up in the process. The memory included Mom seeing Wendy looking at her, smiling sweetly at her daughter, running her hands sensually over her orbs while still gazing at her, with a broadening smile.  Wendy remembered looking down at the patch between Mom's legs, fascinated by the sight, and Mom soaping and rinsing herself there, fingering and spreading her nether lips lingeringly, as if for Wendy.

Other recollections were implanted.  One touched the times in her real life when she and her sister had cuddled with Mom at night in her bed when their dad was gone, which occasions had been rather infrequent and strictly innocent and comforting.  Wendy's new memory would recall these times as having been more frequent, often just her and Mom without the sister, and swirling in wonderful erotic undercurrents, as young Wendy, she would now recall, had loved feeling and had been enticed by the smoothness of her mother's arms and legs and by the warmth and curves of her mother's body, and been seduced by Mom's perfume, affectionate caresses, and suggestive whsipers.

The machine again sensed some residual reluctance, and colored Wendy's memory with more vivid reinforcement:  She had always had a secret crush on her sexy mother. She had dreamed of marrying her someday.  She had always wanted to make love to her. 

And now, in Wendy's current fantasy of being her mother's lesbian bride, having discovered that Mom was a lesbian, and held the same romantic feelings for Wendy as Wendy did for her, it became clear to Wendy that the door was open to the fulfillment of her fondest girlhood hopes, which had just been created within her. 

The thoughts circulating in her mind seemed like her own:  Oh...wait............Now.......  I remember.........It is coming back to me..... Even as a little girl..... ....I had a crush on my mom...I wondered if I could marry her when I grew up...because she was so pretty...I liked her hair...it smelled so fresh....and her...her body...It smelled good, too...and was so very...curvy...and soft...and smooth...I liked being close to her...It made my...my pussy... feel...special........ yes... I have always loved my beautiful mother...and it's only stronger now... I have always felt like this...for her...I always thought she was...sexy...and wondered what it would be like to...to...to touch her...to hold her...to kiss her...

And now...can it be?  My mother is a....lesbian...?........... Sometimes I had hoped... desperately...for that...so that she could love me back...the way I love her ............. ...But........ I didn't think she was a lesbian.......like I am...................

Wait...............I'm not a lesbian...and neither is my mom... 

The machine again checked and recolored her reflections.

Wow!!!...My mom is a lesbian!!  That is so cool!!.......... And she loves me?  and wants me?  as much as I do her?............... My dream is coming true, isn't it? 

I love my mother!  I want to be with her. I want to be with her forever, in fact.......... ... ......yes........I think so............... I do love Mom... so much............my sexy mother.  Maybe I'm even...in love...with her.............. Why didn't I see it before?    And I can marry her?  Yes...I think I can......... That is so cool!  And then...naturally..to prove our love...and my love for her...I could...love her with...with......... sex...?....!......oh, wow!..........

Wendy's heart beat passionately in her chest. 

Wendy felt a movement over her heart...something expanding...growing...my breasts! 

It became clear to Wendy that her newborn--or, in this vision, just-reawakened--desire for her mother was causing her breasts to push straight forward, out from her chest, in a love-driven spurt.  Out they swelled, longer and wider, increasing in weight until they started to sag, the satin bra fighting to support its precious load, and the gauzy wedding dress stretching ever more tightly across the orbs. They ached wonderfully.   Wendy and her breasts now yearned for her mother.

Mary continued: "I want to marry you, Wendy, my sweet daughter...I will be your mother and your wife.  And your lesbian girlfriend. You will be my girlfriend and lover and wife, as well as my daughter." 

"Yesss...............But...but...wouldn't that mean that...that I would have to be a lesbian, too?  A real one... not just a pretend one?  And for ever....not just temporarily...but permanently...?"  Wendy's core identity surfaced for a second.  "I don't think I want..."

"Wendy, stop thinking like that!  That is such an obsolete attitude.  You live in the 21st century!  People are more open-minded now.  There is nothing wrong with being a lesbian girl.  Or a loose girl...one who sleeps around...a slut."

"But, Mom...I thought you wanted me to be a good girl...a normal girl...a straight girl...and to save myself for the right m...." 

"Wendy, listen to me, my dearest.  You have already lived the life of a virgin, of an innocent, straight girl, and what has it gotten you?  Nothing but stress and heartache!  Isn't that true?"

There was only one answer that was true: "Yes...I guess you're right..."

"There is nothing for you in that life, nothing except pain and misery.  I want a much better, happier life for you than that.  Promiscuous lesbian love is the path to joy for you. 

"The good girl you have been is now in your past.  You no longer need to be one.  You have outgrown that...and progressed beyond it.  Let go now, darling.

"As your mother, I am now telling you that I do not want my daughter being a virgin and a nice girl, nor a straight girl, any longer.  Now I want you to be a bad girl... a homosexual girl...a naughty and dirty girl...very loose...an easy girl... sexually depraved, interested in every pretty girl and woman who comes your way.  I know this is what you, deep-down, want to be, and what I want for you as well.  Give in to it.

"That is how you can be a good girl for Mommy now, Wendy...by being a wicked, girl.  It is good to be bad.  The more you think and talk dirty and look and act like a whore, the more I will like it, the more you will like yourself, and the better you will be as a person.

"It is your destiny to become a lesbian for me, as I have for you.  It's what you've always been, deep inside.  There always has been a beautiful lesbian inside you, just waiting to be awakened.  You just didn't know it.  Now it is time for you to accept your new, real identity.  I will help you.  I will awaken that wanton homosexual girl that you really are.  As I once gave birth to you as an innocent baby, I will give birth to you now as a wicked and lovely queer."

The other feminine voice now spoke smoothly in Wendy's mind, confirming Mom's words:  "Don't you want your mother, Wendy?  Show her your choice.  Choose lesbian lust.  Choose Mom.  Receive her love.  Become the liberated, slutty homosexual woman you were always meant to be.  Renounce heterosexuality.  Willingly give up your virginity and wholesomeness for a life of wanton lesbian abandon." 

Mary resumed her incestuous seduction:  "Let me help you...help you to become a beautiful and slutty lesbian girl...by us making love together." 

There was a loud tearing sound as Mary ripped off her wedding dress, revealing the latex lingerie she wore beneath. Sheer red stockings, held up by a red latex garter belt, ran up her long, slim legs, which perched on 4-inch red heels. A red latex bra encased her large D-cup breasts, matched with red latex panties. Attached to the front of the panties was a solid red, smooth latex dildo.

Wendy gasped at the surprise.  The sight struck Wendy as simultaneously lewd, ominous, and thrilling.

Wendy had, of course, been around dildos.  She owned her own, had seen them used countless times in porn, and had played with them by herself and with other girls on numerous occasions now.  She had to admit that she did have a certain fascination for them and their various uses.  But she had never seen one so obviously intended for her deflowering, much less mounted on her mother.  And never had Wendy seen or imagined her mother in such erotic attire, nor had she once--at least before Cynthia's insinuation the other day--associated her mother with this or any other variety of lesbian behavior. 

Living something like this--that is, lesbian intercourse and lesbian incest--vicariously through porn, or in fantasies, was one thing; living it herself, and seeing her mother as her temptress, was a whole new, unreal world for her.  She could scarcely take it in.

Little did Wendy suspect at this moment that this was not real, and she was not actually experiencing it except in a world of dreams and visions, that it was a fantasy created just for her by a marvel of technology.  And yet, the unrealities of this world were insidiously penetrating into the atturdes and feelings of her real mind.

"Wendy, my darling, this is for you...my gift to you...the girl I love," said Mary huskily while stroking the latex phallus. "Let me show you how much I love you.

"Give your virginity to me, sweet Wendy.  Then you will be a beautiful lesbian whore.  I am going to make you into one...with this..."  Mary grabbed her phallus forcefully, for emphasis. "It will transform you from a pathetic, nice, hetero girl into a wondrous, nasty, homosexual slut." 

Mom's red-nailed hands continued to play with her dildo, alternating soft finger-tip touches with obscene groping and yanking, for Wendy's benefit.  "Watch, and feel your pussy prepare...getting juicier...hotter...ready...wanton...craving my entrance into you.  Prepare for your transformation!  Prepare to receive me!   I'm going to fuck your sweet pussy, my slutty daughter!"

My mother is going to fuck me! raced through Wendy's mind with equal parts alarm and thrill. As she thought that, Wendy did, in fact, feel an exquisite, rising surge of warmth and moisture and anticipation in her love-box. 

The machine resumed guiding Wendy's mental dialogue:  Finally...at long last...I'm going to have sex with my mom ...sweet lesbian sex....She wants me...She can have me...and use me...

I want her to love me...to make love to me....I want to marry her...I do...so much...I can hardly believe this!   Is she really going to screw me?   I've always wanted this...always wanted to marry her...always wanted to have sex...to go all the way...with my Mom... I want her...so bad...yes...YES!

"Prepare yourself, dearest. Open your pussy to me.  Let me fuck you!"

Wendy found herself automatically moving up to sit on the altar.  She lifted her voluminous white skirts to her waist, pulled off her panties, and was about to spread her legs, but then....

A thin, exhausted voice rising weakly from Wendy's battered conscience objected:  But...wasn't I saving this for a m....

Before the thought could be completed, a burst of pleasure from her heaving breasts snuffed out the last unspoken words. They surged anew with lust for her mother and lengthened further, becoming now even more ponderous under their mounting weight, stretching her bra and the white material veiling it to the breaking point. They pulsed and swayed with desire for her maternal bride and her matrimonial phallus.  The sensation and the passion was driving Wendy mad. 

The mysterious female voice spoke sweetly to Wendy again:  "Wendy...you want your mother.  That is all that matters now.  See how your breasts grow for her...to her...because you want to have sex with her...because you want to give your pussy to her...and be screwed by her.  That is all that matters to you right now...the only thing you care about...

"Your cunt is much too good for anyone except a woman... a beautiful woman...of course.  Your pussy is only for pretty women and girls.  Now and forever. 

"You have been saving it for the right woman.  For your mother.  Now she is here.  She is now a lesbian, like you wanted.  You want her...she wants you...wants to make love to you...like a mother and daughter should.  It is so right...so natural...just perfect...you both want to.  There is no reason not to.  Surrender your body to your mother's perfect love.

"Give every part of yourself to your mother.  Hold back nothing.  Give your big breasts to her...as your first wedding present to her.  Mom wants to touch and love them as much as they want her touch and love.  You crave the touch of feminine hands...the hands of your mother...on your big, throbbing tits...Give them to her now."

Wendy couldn't resist.  She cupped her hands under her mammoth mammaries and, with some effort due to their considerable weight, lifted them and looked at her mom with some confusion and pleading in her eyes.   "Mom...?"

Mary stepped toward Wendy, her strap-on phallus swaying obscenely with each step.  Without a word, Mary took both massive globes in her hands through Wendy's wedding dress.  She squeezed and rolled them gently.  She tugged on them. She raked her red fingernails over the skin of the exposed cleavage.  When Wendy gasped at the pleasure, Mary leaned in to capture the gasp with her lips, and then sent them down to plant a string of kisses along the creamy upper slopes of Wendy's enormous tits, leaving red lip prints in her wake.  Wendy loved the wonderful attention and felt she could go on forever like this. 

All the while, the tip of the dildo wobbled dangerously at the entrance to Wendy's exposed vagina, raking it intermittently.  A surge of excitement welled in Wendy's lovebox. 

At length, Mary stepped back and ran her eyes down Wendy's body to her crotch.  Wendy's legs were still closed, but she still held her skirts around her waist, as she continued to sit on the altar, so she was naked from the waist down.

"Now, give Mom your womanhood.  It is the most precious thing you have.  You owe it to your mother...for all she has done for you in your life...for giving you birth...for her care for you as a child...for her concern and love for you.  Now it is for her...your gift to her...on your wedding day...to seal your vows...and your love. Let her have it.  Let her love you. Give in. Be your mother's beloved whore.  You want to.  Yield yourself.  Open yourself..." 

The machine had worn away most of Wendy's opposition to its seduction, yet her moral code in the matters of incest and allowing penetration of her vagina were cleaving tenaciously, if precariously, to her core.  A  small, weak voice within Wendy's mind made a last, futile protest.  But, this is... wrong...

The machine countered Wendy's stubborn resistance by impressing more authoritative statements into her mind.

"Is love wrong, Wendy?  How can loving your mother be wrong?  Love is not wrong!  But you would be wrong if you were to deny love and pleasure to yourself and to your mother for one minute longer! 

"Love is right!  And the natural way to express love is with sex.  Of course.  You know that's true.  Sweet and beautiful sex.  Lesbian sex.  Lots and lots of sex.  That is the natural way. 

"Sex is love...love is good...sex is good...and right... between a mother and her daughter...pure pleasure...incest...pure and good...natural...right...right and good and natural....

"Love your mother. Make love to her...all the way...lesbian sex...good and right...give in... ...be her bad girl...the little lesbian whore she wants you to be...has always wanted you to be...Love is right, Wendy...right and sweet...mother-daughter love and sex...pure and good...

"Pleasure is always right... lesbian pleasure... female-on-female love... You must obey your Sapphic desires... You must not resist your lust for females, for you are a lesbian slut...

"A beautiful woman is right in front of you, your mother... She loves you very much... Don't you love her? Don't you want her to love you? Show how much you love your mother. Be a good daughter... Be a good lesbian... for your mother... Be receptive to your mother's love... She is your lover...

"It is right to love your mother.  It is right to want sex with your mother...for her to penetrate you...to screw you...There is nothing wrong with it...nothing at all...in the least...Incest is your right...It is perfectly good and right...

"Love is right...Sex is right...Incest is right...and natural...natural to want it...to want sex...to desire your mother...like you do.  Getting fucked by a beautiful woman is wonderful... Give in... Spread your legs... and receive your mother's love..."

The machine directed Wendy's thoughts:  I do want this...I want my mother's love...I want her to screw me...so bad...oh, yes!...I want to be my mom's bad girl...her lesbian whore...please...

The last of Wendy's reluctance vaporized, at least for the time being, replaced with a lust that filled every crevice of her body. Her love box throbbed with hunger, and gushed with love juice, ripe and fervent to receive the tool of her mother's love.

"Let us not delay, Wendy dearest.  Please become my lesbian lover...my queer wife.  Marry me...right now.  Join with me on this altar of love.  Will you be mine?  Please say yes, my love. Give me your womanhood.  Surrender to me." 

Mary took her glossy red dildo in one hand, strutted up to her daughter in her red high heels, stroked one of Wendy's thighs with the red nails of her free hand, and then rubbed the latex phallus lewdly along Wendy's other thigh.  "Let me love you, darling. Let me fuck you.  Open your legs..."

Wendy flung her legs wide open, and moaned.  "Oh, Mom... yes...oh, please...please give it to me...make me your nasty queer girl...oh, take me...fuck me...my beautiful, sexy, lezzie mom... oh, please... FUCK ME!!"

Little did Wendy realize she was copying, in tone and vocabulary, the numerous teen porn stars she was fond of and had witnessed in similar scenes of lesbian love umpteen times.   

Wendy roughly seized her throbbing breasts with both hands, while Mary grabbed both of Wendy's legs and raised them in the air. She licked Wendy's lower left leg, continuing up towards the shoe, and then licking the heel.

Finally, Mary poised the dildo between Wendy's virginal labia.  "By this, I make you mine, my sweetheart."  With a quick thrust, Mary plunged the red phallus into Wendy's pussy, claiming Wendy's maidenhood for her own.

Mary started to pump, deliberately and slowly at first, punctuating each stroke with an exclamation of endearment. "Oh, you sweet child...my lesbian girl...oh, so slutty and beautiful...my daughter...I love you..." 

Wendy nearly swooned with pleasure and moaned loudly.  "Ahhhhhh... Oooooh... " 

The pace accelerated and Wendy now felt the exhilaration of getting fucked more vigorously...by her own mother...on their marital altar. Wendy's rationality gave way to her instincts. Legs wrapped around her mother's waist. Mary pulled down the neckline of Wendy's white dress and the cups of her bra, and kneaded her daughter's massive, naked breasts, which, even more than before, inflated in her hands. Wendy's nipples throbbed and lengthened and shone obscenely like red-hot coals. 

"The good Wendy is dead," Mary resumed, again coordinating her words and sentences with thrusts.  "I have taken your virginity.  It is no more. You are happy.  You didn't want to be a virgin.  You wanted to be a whore, a whore and a slut for beautiful women and girls.  And now you are one. The straight, modest Wendy is gone.  Your sexual inhibitions are destroyed.  You are now my lover...forevermore a lesbian...now a loose and slutty girl. 

"You will always want lesbian sex...in all places...at all times...with me and with every other pretty and beautiful girl and woman.  You will always put out...and give your body freely...for sex with other females.  There is nothing now to hold you back...to stop you from indulging in your wildest fantasies...giving in to every attractive girl and woman who wants you...seducing other females into being lesbians with you...no standards or barriers...no modesty or chastity...no thought of or desire for men, ever again...free from that now...

"Nothing is too extreme for you now. You are now wild and uninhibited and queer...totally free...a bad girl...much sexier and more beautiful now...totally sexy and sensuous and pretty...irresistible to other women and girls...to Madelynn...to her mother...to Cynthia...to Rebecca...to Kayla and Angela...to Tamara...to Madeline...to Lauren, your beloved...you can have them all now...You are tempting and alluring to them, now more than ever...and to me, your mother...I will not be able to resist you. 

"You want pussy...my pussy...all pussies...of every beautiful female.

"You want to be screwed...by me...by women and girls... again and again. 

"I will be your lover.  We are mother and daughter lovers.  And you are now a wonderful lesbian slut...."

Wendy's pink mouth gasped for air, and rounded in passion. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh..... Mooooommmmmmm!"

"My lesbian daughter, my love..."

Mary leaned forward to kiss Wendy deeply with her shiny red lips. Both mother and daughter moaned into each other during the sensual lip lock, "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..."

When their lips separated, their tongues twirled around each other for a few moments before the kiss ended. The glistening thread of saliva that connected their lips broke and landed on Wendy's chin. With her tongue remaining extended, Wendy licked around her glossy pink lips to collect the excess mixture of her and her mom's saliva.

Mary intensified the speed and depth of her thrusts. Her red-nailed fingers clenched and squeezed Wendy's large breasts. Wendy closed her eyes and arched her back in ecstasy, moaning loudly like a whore in heat.

...DESIRE, WORSHIP, AND ENGAGE THE FEMALE FORM... LESBIAN SEX IS THE PERFECT UNION... YOUR MOST ESTEEMED AIM IS TO BRING FEMALES TO THE LESBIAN FOLD... SAPPHIC SEX... MOTHER... INCEST... LESBIAN MATRIARCHY... SAPPHIC MANIFOLD PLEASURE... OBLIVION OF HETEROSEXUALITY... LAUREN... MADELYNN... CYNTHIA... ALL GIRLS... FEMALES... SEDUCE... SAPPHIC CONQUEST...

Even in the midst of the intense pleasure she was receiving, a part of Wendy's mind which was reluctant to accept the words of the omnipresent female voice escaped, briefly at least, from the suppressing control of the machine. There was a slight contortion on Wendy's face.

"Wendy, my love, listen to me..." said Mary as she slowed down the pace of her thrusts. The motherly words bore into Wendy's main subconsciousness.

"Yes, Mom..."

"I'm your mother, and I know what's best for you...like this..."

With her red-nailed fingers, Mary pinched her daughter's engorged nipples.

"Ugghhhh..."

"A great destiny lies ahead of you, but you must accept it... I want you to accept it..."

Mary wrapped her shiny red lips around one of her daughter's nipples and sucked on it. 

"Oooooohhhhhh...What is...aaaaahhhhh... my...oooooo...my destiny, Mom?"

"You will become a pure lesbian slut, a seductress and carnal lover of all pretty females. Anything that is lesbian will be second nature to you."

The machine gave Wendy a sudden feeling of euphoria. All her doubts vanished.

"Yessss, I will become the perfect lesbian slut... I will do it for you, Mom."

"Our marriage is just the beginning for you and for us. You don't want just me. You want Sarah, Madelynn, Lauren, Cynthia, the girls at Twin Venus Club, Kayla, even your sister, and any pretty female you encounter in the future. Lesbianism is your life. Lesbian sluthood is your ultimate goal and passion..."

"Lesbianism is my life... Lesbian sluthood is my ultimate goal and passion..." repeated Wendy through pink lips as she stared adoringly into her mother's eyes.

"You will become the perfect lesbian slut by which all other lesbian sluts will be judged!"

As if driving her directive deeper into Wendy's soul, Mary suddenly accelerated her thrusting motions, her inner thighs slapping against her daughter's thighs.

"My daughter, my lover, my lesbian wife... Let us cum together!"

'"Oh, MOM!  I love you!!  I am yours!  My body is yours, my pussy is yours, all of me is yours...to play with as you want to...I want to be your sexy, lezzie girl-toy, forever... Please, please, let me be your pretty lesbian whore, lover, and slut.  I so marry you!!  Oh, Yes!  YES!  My precious, sweet, fucking Mom!  I DOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!!" 

A powerful orgasm wracked Wendy's beautiful body. Her glossy pink lips opened widely in an O-shape as she gave a loud cry of release. A brilliant glow surrounded her teenage body.

In the guest room, the bed squeaked loudly as Wendy arched her back and gripped the bed sheets tightly.

"Aaahhhhhhhhhh!"

Gradually the rapture subsided, but euphoric bliss enfolded the subconscious mind of Wendy, the machine dictated, as she basked in the glow of having lost her virginity to her mother...and having shed the respectable hetero-girl facade she had now outgrown.  That was now all gone.  She was not much of a good girl any longer...nor was she straight...

The girl lying on the altar, that girl which she could see as if part of her was floating above independently, that girl with the made-up eyes closed, pretty pink mouth breathing heavily, enormous breasts sprawling naked out of the bodice of her wedding dress, her skirts around her waist, with blood trickling from her defiled, whorish pussy--that girl was her...Wendy Love-Livingston!   She was breathtakingly beautiful; more than she ever conceived was possible for her...now that she was a lesbian and a slut. 

Wendy slowly rose from the altar with a satisfied smile on her face.  Her honey blonde hair became a brilliant platinum blonde. A glowing gold color emanated from her eyes for several moments before fading away.

THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF YOUR LESBIAN FUTURE, WENDY LOVE-LIVINGSTON...

"YESSSSSS..." replied Wendy with a mischievous smile as she licked around her pink lips sensually.

Though the flame of Wendy's heterosexuality had not been snuffed out yet, stubbornly clinging to life and still persistently burning, the machine had damaged it severely and it was now much weaker than ever.

More than she had previously, in real life Wendy would now start experiencing more frequent as well as more intense lesbian impulses and would start to act on them more often. Her conscience would resist less.  Her subconscious programming would permeate into her conscious mind at a faster rate, with diminishing likelihood of her reverting back. Due to Sarah's insistence on Wendy maintaining a lesbian persona, Wendy would be forced to sublimate whatever heterosexual thoughts and desires that remained into Sapphic alternatives.

Wendy's trajectory was such, that it would be a mere matter of time before Wendy's original sexuality would become entirely supplanted with pure, highly promiscuous lesbianism.

7 comments:

  1. Terrific story, continue developing and corrupting madelyn into becoming a lesbian dominatrix

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  2. Excellent chapter. I cant wait to see what effect the brainwashing has on mary when she wakes. (As my favorite sub-genre is "gothification" i am especially interested in what's happening to madelyne and her mother.

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  3. Really enjoyed this story. Not sure, I'm a huge fan of the incest angle, thought Wendy/Sarah/Madelyn would end up together; and Mary/Serena. But, keep writing my complaint is a tiny blemish on what has been an overwhelming great story.

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  4. Has MM found a new interest in his life. In the midst of a wonderful story, pfffff, vanishes in thin air.
    Maybe someone else can continue on.

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  5. Great chapter! i cant wait for wendy to finally break cmpletely!but i also want to see madelynne becoming a forceful dominatrix and savoring her lesbian self! gothification is my favourite

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  6. Mastermeat - I hope you get past the writers block as there are many of us eagerly awaiting the next chapter

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  7. Please finish this story off.

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