Friday, April 2, 2021

Brainy University - Chapter 5 Part 1

Looking into the large ornate full body mirror, Monica marveled at the exquisite wedding dress she was wearing. A stunning intricate blend of shimmering pure white silk, chiffon, and organza fabrics held together with precision master craftsmanship. The dress had a trumpet silhouette that did a superb job of showing off the seductive curves of her sexy body and a sweetheart neckline that gave a tantalizing view of the gorgeous mounds on her chest. Monica had her long, silky black locks done in a half-up, half-down style, the ends styled in playful loose curls and a string of pearls weaved into the loose braid at the back of her head. Her eyelashes were thick with mascara, while dark emerald eyeshadow with a touch of gold undertones brought out her dark brown eyes. Her lips were deeply colored with thick coats of bright strawberry-red lipstick, her nails matching the vibrant color. As she continued to model for herself in the mirror, Monica’s sexy female attendants assisted in some last minute touch-ups with the train of the bridal gown, although their hands strayed higher onto her dress as if checking for imperfections and making other fixes, which Monica knew probably weren’t needed… but she didn’t mind at all. She would sneak glances as they went about getting her ready, admiring their cute posteriors and also enjoying the feeling of their feminine hands on her body.

Monica felt a giddy joy she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was her wedding day, she was the beautiful bride in every girl's fairytale picture-perfect wedding, she was getting married to… and then it hit her. A puzzled look appeared on her face as she realized she had no idea whom she was marrying and, almost equally concerning, how she got there.

Where am I?… What am I doing?… Looks like I’m getting married but…

However, before Monica could give it much thought, the door to the dressing room opened and in came her mother, Isabella, wearing a luxurious white designer dress that showed off her shapely curves. The circular cut-outs on the sides and the boob window on her chest gave clear access to the erotic curves of Isabella’s hips and breasts, while the hem of the dress stopped five inches above her knees, displaying most of her long, slim legs. From the rear it offered a teasing view of the cheeks of her firm, luscious ass to onlookers, which would turn into an even more marvelous view if Isabella would be kind enough to bend over. She had her dark coffee-colored hair pulled back and styled into a sophisticated, elegant braided bun held with two silver chopsticks embedded with dangling chains and adorned with glittering diamonds. Isabella had on her typical array of cosmetics, including sapphire blue eyeshadow accented by black eyeliner, her lashes thick with mascara and her lips painted a dark blood red color.

As Monica eyed Isabella up, she sensed feelings that she normally wouldn’t associate with her mother. At first, they weren’t so strong that they overwhelmed her normal perception of the woman, but they were just enough of an emotional force for her to notice them and to drive her to make a more careful perusal of Isabella. When she did, however, Monica suddenly realized how beautiful her mother looked, and that awareness struck her with awe. As Monica dwelled on the loveliness of the woman and, in particular, on her curves, she felt her heart start to pulse rapidly and she noticed a shortness of breath. She became aware of a very pleasant feeling in her loins, noticing her womanhood moistening and tingling with pleasure. She had experienced these kinds of sensations before, at least in a lesser degree, her mind told her, but they had always been associated with a good-looking man catching her fancy. However, before she could analyze why she was feeling them, and only after her mother walked in, the deep-seated resentment and fear she harbored for Isabella collided with the pleasurable feelings of nascent lust for the woman, stirring a storm of conflicting feelings within her mind.

Leave it to mom to try to upstage me on my own wedding day… Then again...she does look kinda hot… muy picante.

A confused look appeared on Monica’s face as the feelings warred with each other, but before she could say anything, Isabella cleared her throat sternly, upon which the attendants ceased their ministrations on her daughter and walked out the door, bowing to Isabella as they did.

“Well, well, my sweet daughter looks…‘exquisite’. Not perfect, I must say… No...there’s definitely room for improvement… Then again, it is your wedding day...so I guess there is no harm in being lenient. You are acceptable...more or less.”

The indifference in her mother’s voice was not new to Monica. In fact, she was quite familiar with it, and it was usually mixed with a tone of disdain, as it was now. Nothing she did would ever measure up to Isabella’s impossibly high standards, and, despite Isabella’s lukewarm assurance to the contrary, her wedding day was no different.

“Glad to hear that you approve, Mother,” Monica replied sardonically.

“Absolutely, my love—ly daughter…………...my...my beautiful daughter……...very beautiful...”

In that instant, something between them changed. Monica wasn’t sure what it was, but Isabella, still showing much of the hard veneer which she typically had, was now looking at her with something more than the singular aloofness of a second before. The new expression was also a bit unsettling, but for a different reason than before. Now there was interest. In a way, too much interest. Predatory interest. Carnal interest. It was the look that Monica in the past had seen Isabella, whether slyly or blatantly, give various men who had caught her fancy, leering at them like pieces of meat, regardless of the fact that she was a married woman, giving rise to suspicions within Monica that her mother was not as faithful to her father as she pretended to be. And now Isabella was giving her that same look.

The young woman recognized lust in her mother’s eyes. Though she had never before seen that type of passion in her mother’s face directed at her, it was a look, Monica realized, now that she thought she had deciphered the nature of Isabella’s sudden new interest in her, which she found, to her surprise, that she loved, and which excited her, which reaction mystified her. As far as she knew, she had never before been attracted to females, but here she was finding herself attracted to her mother and relishing her mother’s apparent attraction to her.

Turmoil raged in Monica’s emotions as she looked at her mother. Monica wished that she didn’t have such feelings… It wasn’t right for a mother and daughter to have sexual attraction for each other……..although…..….she did enjoy her new feelings...maybe a little sexy interaction between them wouldn’t hurt……..although……...Monica was upset with her mother in such significant ways…Monica wanted to nurse her grudge…and not like her mother… And, she told herself, she was probably just misinterpreting her mother’s face… That particular woman wasn’t likely to lust for her own daughter, or for any other woman. And was what she, Monica, feeling--was that really sexual attraction, either? Not probably. Monica was as straight as they came. So Monica tried to dismiss such sapphic notions as ludicrous. Nevertheless...try as she might...she did think she might be feeling some kind of sexual undercurrent between them… Maybe…maybe not...

It was true, Monica reflected, that she had craved her mother’s approval and love for years...not sexual love, she didn’t think, but motherly love...and had been denied it time and again. Since she was a little girl, she had wished for a mother who was comforting, nurturing, and proud to claim her as her daughter. But since that fateful day during her senior year in high school, a disillusioned Monica had come to see conclusively that her mother was not that person.

That rejection, that betrayal, that revelation had created an emotional wound that Monica felt would never heal properly. That wound had been torn open afresh from time to time after she had arrived at college, such as when her roommates would receive care packages and calls from their mothers, while she got nothing. And she would never openly admit it, but she had felt bitter jealousy whenever her beautiful friends, Claire, Jessica, and Meredith, sometimes talked about the warmth and love they felt from and for their maternal figures.

Nevertheless, deep down, Monica harbored a little bit of hope, and thought she would do anything to have Isabella change from the manipulative, scheming, backstabbing, cold-hearted woman she knew into the loving, caring, nurturing mother she secretly desired--and, yes, now that she thought it over again, maybe a sexy one. To be sure, Isabella already was sexy, but Monica had never been very privy to that side of her mother, but now suddenly it seemed that she wanted to be, that she wanted to see more of her mother’s sexiness, and that she wanted her mother to be even sexier and to show it to Monica more, in personal, intimate ways.

Monica’s ideal mother, assumed more definition in her imagination. Yes, a sexy, loving, caring mother who would be there for her and would shower her with gentle praise, kind words of encouragement, motherly hugs, comforting kisses, and with a dash of deeper, less-motherly intimacy thrown in. Sexy. Sexier. Made-up. Not too modest. Flirty. Touchy-feely. Kissy. Romantic. With Monica.

Monica was finding herself attracted more by the moment to the fantasy mother she wanted over the socially repugnant and dangerous woman she knew. But the woman standing before her--which one was she? Monica had thought she had witnessed Isabella start to change before her eyes a minute before, from a cold, uncaring woman to an overly interested, if not a lecherous mother, and now the woman’s visage seemed to have further altered, revealing a degree of kindness now, as well, it appeared. But Monica wasn’t sure. Monica didn’t know whether to take a step toward her mother in welcome or to step back in fear, trying to put some distance between her and her mother, so she stood there looking paralyzed.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no… It’s just… I mean... I have a wedding to prepare for, Mother…”

“Absolutely, my dear. I’m just stopping by to lend my assistance.” As Isabella said this, she closed the distance between herself and Monica, then leaned in with a smile and gently stroked her daughter’s left cheek with the back of her manicured hand, lightly raking the skin with her blood-red nails. The touch sent a pleasurable thrill up the girl’s spine. For as long as Monica could remember, Isabella had never before initiated any kind of physical contact with her, at least not anything that bespoke tenderness and endearment. No comforting hugs or motherly kisses, not so much as a pat on the back for a job well-done. This sudden stroking of her cheek had Monica wishing her mother had shown affection like this before in her life, and longing for more of it.

But Monica couldn’t shake the feeling that something was not right with her mother. Here Isabella was, acting like she was tending to menial tasks, which she normally would just delegate to some staff in her employ. The fact that it was her daughter’s wedding was even less reason for her to concern herself, in the mindset which Monica knew to be her mother’s. That’s why Isabella hired a team of wedding planners to coordinate this extravagant affair. Further, it was just odd that the woman would show this much interest in Monica or in anything related to her, unless it gave her an advantage or benefit. Part of her enjoyed the attention that her mother was giving her and yet it was unsettling. What Isabella was doing went against everything Monica knew about her mother.

“I’m fine mother,” Monica said as she tried to read her mother’s face. She alternated between wanting to swat her mother’s arm away from her, in case the tender caress was a set up for another one of her mother’s emotional attacks, or wanting to reciprocate her mother’s intimate caress of her face and touch her mother’s lovely face back, tenderly.

“Nonsense, my dear. Let's see, how does that poem go? ‘Something old'--that would be your grandmother’s wedding dress...which fits you very well, my dear, very well indeed… ”

For the briefest second Monica swore she saw her mother flirtatiously bat her eyes at her, and run her tongue a little along her lips, but then dismissed that possibility, believing her mother would never make a seductive gesture at another woman, especially at her own daughter. Monica figured that maybe she was seeing things, the stress of her wedding day getting to her. She decided to try to just listen in hopes that her mother would finish whatever she wanted to say and whatever business she thought she had there and then leave her alone. But…then...on the other hand… Monica reconsidered. Maybe she didn’t want her mother to leave. She was, after all, being attentive, more like the mother she wanted in her life...and looking so…hot…

“...’something blue’--the costly flowers in your wedding bouquet; ‘something borrowed’--that would be the vintage Jaguar that you’ll be driving away in (and remember not to put a dent in it, my dear); and finally, ‘something new’--hmmm…. I don’t think we have that covered, my dear, sweet, sexy daughter.”

Mom thinks I’m…sexy? Wow. That’s a first. Well, it’s about time she noticed. Monica found herself touched by her mother’s compliment.

“W-what do you mean, Mom?… The veil that I’m wearing s-should count as new,” Monica said in an uncertain tone.

“No, no that won’t do, my dear. I think I have just the perfect item that would suit you far better.” There was a long pause after Isabella said this. Monica waited nervously to hear what her mother would say next.

Then Monica noticed that her mother’s facial expression changed again. Gone now was the hard, stern expression with which she came in and that was replaced by a softer maternal expression. Still cautious, Monica opted to wait and prayed she could endure whatever her mother had planned for her.

“Granted, I’m starting to realize that maybe I was a bit hasty in arranging your marriage to Harold Salazar.” There was a subtle tone of regret in Isabella’s voice.

Wait…what? That pig? She still thinks she’s going to marry me off to him? In actuality, the dream was telling Monica she would have felt like that about any man Isabella could have named as the groom. She just wasn’t feeling anything for males right now, she faintly realized.

Monica at this point was still nervous and confused. The gentle, longing look that Isabella was giving her was unnatural--for Isabella--and disturbing. It was something she had never seen on her mother’s face and the sudden change into a soft, caring quality in her voice was just unbelievable when it came to Isabella Castillo-Morales.

“Now how about you be a dear and close your eyes for me, honey,” Isabella said in a tone that was not only motherly but sultry as well.

Monica was hesitant to comply with her mother’s request. There was something about it that made her feel very uneasy about the whole situation. However, before she could give it more thought or find an excuse, her mother spoke again but with sincerity and a faint touch of apology.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear daughter. I-I…know I haven’t been the best mother to you… and your distrust is warranted...but...please give me a chance. I think the gift I have for you will definitely show you I’m trying to make amends.” There was no mistaking the hurt in Isabella’s voice. Monica was more confused than ever, her mother acting so differently from what she was used to and yet, deep down it was something Monica desired. In fact, she found herself so touched that she felt stirrings within herself both emotionally and physically. The pleasure flowing through her body grew stronger the more maternal Isabella acted.

With careful trepidation, Monica gave in to her mother’s request. Slowly closing her eyes, Monica cautiously braced herself for whatever surprise that her mother planned to give her. Isabella stepped up to her daughter, bringing their bodies into contact. Monica let out a soft gasp as she felt a gentle warmth emanating from her mother. Then she felt a pleasant tingle between her legs as she felt Isabella wrap something around her neck. The physical contact between her and her mother sent a strong pleasurable shiver down her spine. Monica wasn’t so sure that she wanted to feel these kinds of feelings, as her mother fidgeted and fastened whatever it was around her neck.

“There. I think you definitely look absolutely lovely, my dear daughter. You may open your eyes now.”

Monica opened her eyes and Isabella directed Monica to cast her gaze to the mirror in the dressing room. To her surprise she realized that her mother had placed an elegant silver chain necklace around her neck. It glittered and gleamed in the mirror’s reflection. Hanging from it was a large heart-shaped pendant with a wonderful blue gem embedded in the center.

Holding up the pendant, Monica popped it open and, to her surprise, she found a picture of her and Isabella together, smiling, looking happy to be with each other, as a mother and daughter should be.

Tears began to well up in Monica’s eyes at her mother’s grand gesture of trying to mend their strained relationship.

“Mother, I don’t know what to say. I mean…. It’s just… I…I-I…love it…”

Monica turned to face her mother. To her surprise, she found that Isabella had somehow drastically changed her appearance while Monica had been focusing on her mother’s gift. Gone was the revealing mother-of-the-bride dress and an overtly sexual style, replaced with a look reminiscent of a 50’s housewife. Monica even saw her in black and white, as if she were one of the idealized, near-perfect housewives and mothers in TV shows of the 50’s decade. Isabella’s hair was cut and fashioned in a 50’s style bob. Her dress was in keeping with the period, having short sleeves with turned-up white cuffs, a rather standard, button-up-the-back bodice that ended in a white Peter Pan collar around her neck, and a full, A-line skirt which extended a few inches past the knees and which was fluffed out with petticoats, everything looking prim and proper, in keeping with a standard, organized, modest, maternal, chaste, stay-at-home mother of the 50’s period--at least at first glance. But the look on her face was one of kindness and concern, compatible with the motherly personality the other elements of her appearance seemed to convey.

Monica didn’t know what to say. She was not accustomed to seeing Isabella like this, with at least the facade of wholesomeness, conservative tradition, and motherliness. But she liked it. At first, she thought that this was the mother she had always wanted and had always been denied...even though something seemed missing...

Then, however, Monica made a closer inspection, and her view of her mother transformed from black-and-white to color. It could now be seen that Isabella’s appearance had some surprisingly sensual touches, despite its retro style. Her dress was a bright, metallic candy-apple red. The bodice was exquisitely tight and the material had an inviting satin-like sheen and was sheer enough to show a lacy, silvery-white bullet corset underneath. The corset, laced up in the back, made her waist spectacularly narrow. The pointed cone-shaped cups, like a 50’s bullet bra, lifted, separated, and defined her large breasts, and gave them breathtaking sharp tips, the sum showing off and exaggerating the desirable hourglass curves of Isabella’s body. There was also a vertical slit from the neckline of the dress extending down the bodice twelve inches, which was subtle at first but which split apart with the least movement to expose creamy cleavage and some of the sweetheart neckline of the lacy white corset. She wore four-inch black pumps and nude nylons with prominent seams running up the back. As pantihose did not become common until the 60’s, nylons held up by a garter belt was routine in 50’s attire and was what Isabella wore. Even though that was hidden to Monica, she did imagine a hidden garter belt for that reason, as well as out of wishful thinking. Isabella’s coffee-colored hair glowed with rich color, a deeper, more vibrant shade than before, and was seen to have body, shine, silkiness, and a sophisticated cut and curliness, which combined retro and modern style and gave her locks a natural flow as they swished playfully around her face with her movements.

“Something wrong, my dear?” Isabella asked with genuine concern.

Something in her mind informed her that she now found her mother’s new appearance sexually appealing. It struck Monica that she really had nothing against her mother looking beautiful and...and sexy… It had been her cruelty and coldness that had made life difficult for her...but not her beauty... No...in fact...while she had liked the black-and-white, tamer version of Isabella she had seen initially...she much preferred her mother this way. Sexy. Alluring. Monica had to admit that the sudden change that Isabella made in appearance and mannerisms, as she stood now, perfectly aligned with the fantasy mother Monica always wanted her to be--including the part of Isabella exerting a sensual enchantment over her.

“Do you like? I-It’s just… I know I haven’t been the best mother to you. Hell, let’s be honest. I wasn’t winning any Mother of the Year awards. All I ever did was make you feel like an inconvenience in my life.”

This time there was no doubt and confusion in Monica as she walked towards her mother. Upon closing the gap Monica warmly embraced Isabella in a loving hug. For a brief moment Monica nuzzled her cheeks against her mother’s ample bosom. Then, as she looked up into Isabella’s face with teary eyes, Monica noticed just how very beautiful Isabella was. Her life-long ugly, hostile, selfish spirit had made her mother’s beauty difficult to appreciate before, but now...for the first time in her life...Isabella was giving off a motherly glow...and a sweetness of spirit...which unmasked for Monica, as it were, the glory of Isabella’s physical charms.

Most noticeable was her mother’s lips. Gone was the dark red color and instead replaced with a vibrant coat of glossy, seductive cherry red, which matched the new enamel on her long, manicured fingernails. Isabella’s lips were so plump, so soft, so… kissable. Without giving it thought Monica instinctively leaned in and kissed her mother on the lips. In response, Isabella reciprocated the tender kiss with her own, pulling her daughter in and making her kiss last several long, sexually tense seconds. Monica felt her mom’s hands roam over her back and settle on her beautiful ass. She let out a soft moan into her mom’s mouth as she felt Isabella playfully squeeze her rear.

“My darling daughter… I’m so sorry... I shouldn’t be forcing you to marry that man…or any man…ever!” said Isabella in an angelic tone as she slid her hands onto Monica’s hips. “You are much too precious for that.” She drew Monica closer to her body and pressed their breasts together. The thrilling act caused Monica to swoon a little. Isabella caught her, mixing their breasts even more openly. “Do you like that, darling?” Returning her hands to the girl’s ass, she groped and whispered, “And this?” Monica nodded her head dreamily. Isabella’s demeanor lightened some, and, as she tenderly gazed into Monica’s eyes, she smiled and asked, “Do you like girls?”

“What? Girls?’” Girls she knew came to Monica’s mind--her beautiful, close friend Claire, to whom she wanted to be close, and with whom she had a tentative dinner date lined up...Jessica, another foxy roommate....Abby, their beautiful Asian neighbor in the Preston Suites...the girls in her classes, including the blonde nerd-girl in her business management class...the blonde girl she passed while on the tour of the Suites grounds...and, especially, her dreamy redhaired bedmate, Meridith. Examining her feelings briefly, she knew she liked such girls… She was attracted to them...highly attracted, even… Maybe she liked pretty girls, in

general... Nothing wrong with that... Girls rocked. “Yes...of course…” But...that didn’t mean she was a…a… “Or...you mean…like like? Well...no… I’m not like that... Why…?”

“This might be hard for you to understand now, but...trust me...it is your destiny to marry a girl.”

“Wha… Mom…what are you…”

“I know this is a lot to take in...but...you were meant to be a lesbian. You are a lesbian. I finally see that you’ll never find happiness in marrying Harold Salazar, or any other male. Monica, I realize that your fate is to wed another woman.”

“Mom…no… I don’t think…”

“Shhhh. Don’t fight it. Tell me what this does to you. Close your eyes.” Monica did, whereupon Isabella leaned forward, with her arms still around her daughter’s narrow waist, and drew her in as she kissed Monica’s painted lips with her own. Surprised, then quickly taken with the slick, delicious sensation and with the ardent--if incestuous--love it conveyed, Monica allowed the kiss to go on and on, before Isabella broke it. By this time, one of Isabella’s hands was roaming over Monica’s back while the other groped and massaged her daughter’s generous derriere. “How do you feel?”

“Ohhh…Mom…I…I don’t know… You’re my mother...but…is this right?”

“Forget ‘right’. Can this be wrong?” Isabella again leaned into her daughter, this time she initiated a long, open-mouthed French-kiss, one in which Monica offered no objection as Isabella explored her daughter’s mouth with her tongue. Isabella then ran her hands to the front of the wedding dress, one cupping and playing with a young breast and the other navigating into Monica’s pussy through the gown. Monica gasped and purred in response.

“Ahh… I didn’t think you’d mind. You’re wet, dear. For me.”

Monica just assented dreamily. “Uh-huh…”

“You love your mother, don’t you, honey?”

“Oh, yesss, Mom…”

“Now be very honest with me. You like girls, don’t you Monica, my sweet, sexy daughter? Pretty girls. Sexy girls. You love girls, don’t you?” More images of girls passed through her mind, pretty schoolmates and other girl friends from her past, foxy celebrity girls and lovely models she had seen in the media, and sexy girls she had never seen depicted as being from adult magazines and websites, all arrayed enticingly, several of the images showing two girls together in romantic embraces. Arousal rose within her.

“Mm mmmm…” was the only response she could give as she tried to control the lust she was feeling.

“Yes. I knew it. It’s because you’re a lesbian, my darling. Pretty, sexy girls simply drive you crazy. There’s so many, it’s hard to choose, isn’t it? But tell me, Monica. Is there a special sweet, cute girl who has particularly caught my daughter’s attention? Maybe someone you want to walk down the aisle with?” Isabella asked inquisitively, while still holding Monica close and caressing her breast and ass.

In response, images of the young women she knew began to play through her mind again. As she sorted through and pondered the images, evaluating the girls she considered for their potential as brides for herself, she felt arousal which she knew a straight girl shouldn’t feel when thinking about girls. Then she found herself focusing particularly on Claire and Jessica. Both women, having been an active part of her life at Preston, were not only friends, she realized, but were very beautiful in their own right, and she was attracted to them. Physically and emotionally. As more than friends. Monica found her body responding to the sexual desire she was feeling for them. Especially Claire. Monica wanted to date her, wanted to be with her intimately, wanted to sleep with her, wanted to kiss her and to feel up her body. Now she understood, at least in this dream, that her gorgeous mother was right.

I am...I am a...a lesbian. Though she, at first, confessed that to herself begrudgingly, the confession nevertheless sent a thrill through her, and she rapidly accepted it with a novel giddiness. Quickly, she saw that she wanted to be a lesbian, and to even marry a girl.

As Monica continued to think about her roommates, the remaining one came into focus in her mind. Ah! What a beautiful sight she was! Enlightenment flooded into Monica. This was the one, the girl she wanted to tell her mother about, the one whom she would love to marry. Her lovely roommate...and bedmate...Meredith. Meredith! Sweet, pretty, foxy, sexy, petite, red-haired Meredith!

Immediately thoughts of other women were largely driven from her mind. Not fully, but Meredith outshone the others, and seized precedence over them. Monica found herself aching with desire for the redheaded cutie who had captured her heart.

Images of their first kiss together, while it was accidental--or at least that’s what Monica had repeatedly told herself--flashed through her memories. She wished it had been more intentional than accidental. She realized she wanted more from Meredith. Another kiss. A real, heavy, deep, mutual girl-on-girl kiss. A lesbian kiss. Then more kisses. Real kisses. Dating. Lesbian dating. Becoming girlfriends. Real girlfriends. Lesbian girlfriends. Falling in love. Making love. Lesbian love.

Monica envisioned herself with Meredith...walking through the campus holding hands...eating lunch together at the campus cafeteria...sitting across from each other, gazing into each other’s eyes...studying together, all the time...taking drives together...going out on dates...hot dates...dates ending up with them making out passionately...and sleeping together... Monica saw them starting off as they were now doing, sleeping together in a platonic sense, but, as her desire for Meredith increased in the dream, the mental images changed into ones in which she and Meredith were in bed naked in erotic embraces and being very intimate with each other...nothing ambiguous, nothing platonic anymore about their relationship…. It had become conclusively romantic...and sexual... They had become lovers. A smile crept across the face of the real, slumbering Latina.

Isabella let out a small giggle as she recognized the blushing facial expression on Monica’s face as a response to her inquiry.

“So, does this cutie have a name?”

“... N-nerd-girl...”

“Well, that’s an interesting name,” Isabella said with a soft playful chuckle.

“I-I mean Meredith… Her name is Meredith...and...and I ...I love her.” A debt of gratitude to her mother swept over Monica for helping her see how she truly felt about girls and, especially, about her sexy redheaded bedmate, and she was about to express that sentiment, both verbally and with another kiss. However, before Monica and Isabella could continue their conversation, a horrific screeching wail broke the romantic atmosphere.

“Enough!” boomed a terrifying voice that echoed in the dressing room.

Monica watched in horror as her surroundings began to change into some kind of hellish nightmare. The dressing room started to stretch and shift and carpet began to recede into the floor, unveiling cold, black, mildew-covered stone. The warm wallpaper and paint rotted away to expose dark-colored grime-covered bricks and fixtures twisted into gruesome torture devices, the whole room transforming into some kind of dungeon hallway.

Lamentable cries filled the air. As Monica turned her head towards the source of the tearful wailing, she saw her attendants bound to the walls, screaming and begging for help as they were violated by demonic-looking men. Cruel instruments of torture and sexual punishment were littered everywhere.

Monica turned her gaze back to her mother. To her horror, she saw Isabella flung across the room like a rag doll by a being whose appearance quickly clarified. Standing on the spot where her mother had been standing was a nightmarish hag, who had the appearance of an old, demonic crone, clothed in soiled rags, with bitterness and malice etched into her face.

“W-w-who… are you,” Monica asked with fear and panic, having witnessed this vile creature assault her mother.

“Why Monica, don’t you recognize your own…mother?” The vile creature put extra emphasis on the last part of the sentence, as she gave Monica a menacing stare.

The thought that the twisted creature standing before her could possibly, in some incomprehensible way, be her mother, made Monica sick to her stomach. She wanted to object, but it stuck in her throat, blocked by the disgust she felt at the evil creature’s claim of being her mother.

“Now come, my dear. You have a husband waiting for his blushing bride,” the hag spat with wicked glee.

Before Monica could protest, the demonic version of Isabella raised her hand. In it was a long chain. Following its length, to her horror, Monica realized that it connected to her. The pendant that the angelic version of her mother had given her had now become a black, studded leather collar, to which the chain was attached. With a firm yank, Monica was dragged across the dungeon’s cold floor and brought closer to the foul-looking demon hag who claimed to be her mother.

“As I have said before, my dimwitted daughter, when you marry Harold Salazar, the only thing you’ll be doing is using your body to satisfy his needs,” demonic Isabella sneered sadistically. “You have a wedding to attend and a husband to fuck soon after!” Then she let out an evil cackling laugh as she began to drag Monica over the floor of the long dungeon.

“Please stop!” Monica pleaded as she struggled to free herself. “You can’t force me to marry someone I don’t like. It’s wrong!”

“You’re nothing to me, my dear. All you are is just property for me to sell off to the highest bidder and the Salazars paid a very good price for your worthless ass,” croaked out the nightmarish version of her mother.

“No, no, no! Help! Please, someone, anyone help me!” Monica’s cries of help echoed throughout the nightmare dungeon. No response came from anyone.

“There’s no escaping this, you witless bitch! Stop fighting and come with me, Monica!”

After the demonic hag version of her mother spoke her name, Monica could hear it echo through the tunnel of horrors in which she found herself, but, instead of fading, the echo became stronger and stronger.

But then a third voice, clear and feminine and resolute and heroic, rang through the dungeon. “NO! I won’t let you do this to her!” Both Monica and the demonic version of Isabella turned their attention towards the source of the voice. Picking herself off the far end of the stone floor where she had been hurled and left senseless for a few minutes, angelic Isabella stood up and addressed the demon hag holding Monica hostage. “Let my daughter go NOW! Or face the consequences!”

“You have no power over me!” the hag spat at the beautiful, mature Latina woman standing in defiance against her. “You know you won’t last long against me!”

“Well, then you’ve underestimated me! Izzie, I’m going to make you leave my daughter alone!”

“Oh, really? How do you think you’re going to do that, Bella?” Izzie asked mockingly. “Bore me to death with a lecture on how to raise a spoiled idiot child?” She tugged again on the chain, jerking Monica closer to her, almost within reach of her gnarled arms.

Enraged by Izzie’s rough treatment of and snide comment about Monica, Bella threw out a ball of light towards her hideous counterpart. Upon impact, it flung Izzie across the dungeon, causing Izzie to lose her grip on the chain. Escaping her tormentor, Monica quickly ran to Bella, embraced her in a hug, and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mom!”

“Don’t you ever hurt or insult my daughter again!”

“Mom, what do we do?” asked Monica, who looked at her mother to protect her from Izzie.

“She’s right that I’m not strong enough to defeat her, not right now,” Bella stated with a low, solemn voice. “I can only slow her down, but not for long.”

“B-but… please, Mom, I don’t want to marry Harold!” pleaded Monica. “Please don’t let her force me to marry him.”

“For that matter, you don’t want to marry any man, do you, my pretty daughter?”

“No, I don’t! So, Mom...if you can’t beat her, shouldn’t we get out of here? How do we leave?”

Bella turned to her frightened daughter and hugged her for reassurance, gently stroking her back to soothe Monica’s fears away.

“Monica, listen to me. There’s only one way to beat Izzie and escape the marriage she’s arranged for you. But, its success hinges on you.”

“B-but she’s too strong. I can’t do anything to her.”

“That’s what Izzie wants you to believe. But while I can’t defeat her, you can. You have the power to conquer this demon and achieve your true desire.”

“W-what do I have to do?” implored Monica, unsure that she could defeat the demonic representation of her mother.

“You have to become a lesbian. You have to get this Meredith girl to accept you as her girlfriend. Seduce her and have her make love to you. Above all else, she needs to take your virginity.”

“B-but… but… I don’t know… I mean, I’m not sure she even likes me that way.”

“That’s not a problem, Monica. Pay her compliments, buy her gifts, flirt with her, touch her, dress sexy for her, entice her with your body, and caress her when the opportunity presents. You need to let Meredith know your life revolves around her and that she can have your body anytime she wants. You can do this, honey. In fact, you hunger to take your relationship with Meredith to the next level, don’t you, my dear one?”

“Yes...I do… I really like her...but...I’m scared, Mom….”

“Don’t be, sweetie.” Upon saying this, Bella leaned in and planted a tender, loving kiss on her daughter’s lips. Feeling desperate and kind of in love with this version of her mother, Monica pulled her in tightly and made the soft, sweet kiss into a passionate open-mouthed French kiss, to which Bella responded in kind.

“Mom, I...I love you,” Monica panted breathlessly after they broke.

“Like a lesbian?”

Monica searched her feelings. Her love for Isabella was indisputably mixed with strong lust. “......yes….like a lesbian…”

“Good. And Meredith?”

“Yes...her, too…”

In the meantime, Izzie had recovered and was walking toward Monica with malice in her crusty, bloodshot eyes. She raised her arms and cast a dark fog from her fingertips toward the girl. The darkness traveled rather slowly but steadily, and Monica could see that it would enshroud her within a matter of ten or twenty seconds. The closer it approached, the young Latina woman perceived that the dark, evil mist was the embodiment of revolting male suitors, sickening, suffocating heterosexual marriage, and putrid heterosexuality in general.

“Mom!! Look!”

“Yes. It’s a real danger. Remember, there is a way to defeat her. Will you become a lesbian?”

“Y-yes, Mom. I promise.”

“It should be easy, since you already love girls so much.” She’s right. I do love girls. “Like I told you, and demonstrated to you, I think you already are a lesbian, honey. Give in to it all the way now.”

“Mom, I...I think I...I want to be a lesbian… The idea is so...so exciting!”

“I’m so proud of you, my sweet daughter. You’re definitely on the right track. Just keep on it. Remember, Monica, you’re a Morales and you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Both mother and daughter eyed the approaching darkness with alarm and dread. It was almost upon them, enough for them to smell its rotten stench. Monice saw she had to escape quickly to avoid enslaving capture. “Now go, Monica. I’ll buy you some time, but remember you have to become a lesbian. It’s the only way.”

“Okay, Mom.” Isabella’s deep red lips called to her urgently, even more so than the impending danger of the oncoming evil fog. How she wanted to taste them again, to press her own full lips onto them, to feel her painted labia gliding erotically across those of her mother, to once again taste the pleasure of her lipstick mixed with her mother’s. If I’m going to become a lesbian...let me start here...with my mother... Monica pulled her mother in for one final, deep kiss.

When they broke, Isabella purred, “That’s more like it, my dear lesbian daughter. Your only hope is in lesbian love. And in Meredith. You and I will finish what we have begun here later. Right now you need lesbian love with Meredith. Only that and only Meredith can protect you.” Again catching sight of the black fog with alarm, Isabella’s voice rose to fever pitch. “Find her! Make her love you! Get her to fuck you! Now run!!”

Bella then turned towards Izzie and let out a yell as she charged at Izzie with all her might, plunging into the back cloud as she ran. As soon as she collided with her twisted, demonic doppelganger, there was a great explosion of mixed light and darkness which started to consume the dungeon hallway.

“Mommmmmmmm!” screamed a petrified Monica, whose legs seemed paralyzed. With the dungeon floor caving in and stones from the walls tumbling down around her, she found herself unable to run away. She watched helplessly as parts of the ominous fog which were still dark crept up her legs. Wisps of black mist formed into sinister fingers and began to grasp vice-like onto her calves, and she simultaneously lost her balance and started to topple into the murky abyss which was opening up underneath her.

“Noooooooo!”

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

“Monica? Monica?”

Monica’s eyes immediately bolted open. She quickly surveyed her surroundings. To her great relief, she found that she was no longer in that nightmarish hallway, nor was she about to marry a man about whom she knew little and for whom she felt nothing, except for revulsion, but rather she was back in her bedroom, on her back in her bed, looking off to one side.

Cold sweat dripped down her face as she checked the room, just to make sure she wasn’t stuck in the horrid dream world, with a monstrous villain in pursuit. As Monica relaxed, a face appeared above her. She looked up and to her surprise saw Meredith, propped up on an arm next to her and hovering over her, giving her a look of concern.

“Monica? Hey…. um… you okay there, Monica? Sounded like you were having one hell of a nasty nightmare.”

Meredith was the most comforting, most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “Meredith? Is...is that really you?” Then Monica did something that completely took Meredith completely off guard. Monica let out a soft sob, reached up, and threw her arms around Meredith for comfort, the two of them tumbling onto their sides, their bodies facing each other.

“Oh, Meredith! I’m so glad you’re here! Please… I’m begging you… Don’t make me marry him! P-please, I don’t want to marry him!… Meredith, save me!” Monica’s body shook as she sobbed more in her bedmate’s arms, and hugged her more tightly in, feeling more safety in the closer embrace.

Meredith had no idea what to do. This was a first for her, as she felt Monica cry into her shoulder. Meredith knew Monica as a confident woman who let nothing bother her and lived life without a care. To see her so vulnerable was something she didn’t expect. For a few seconds, Meredith just silently allowed her friend to continue to cry. Then she gently raised her arm, placed her hand on Monica’s back, and began to comfort her with it, patting and stroking gently.

“Monica, you’re safe. You’re here in the Suites with me, Jessica, and Claire. No one is going to make you marry someone you don’t want to. You’re completely safe here,” soothed Meredith as she continued to gently stroke Monica’s back. As she did, Meredith could feel Monica tremble against her.

Who or what could have scared her this badly? wondered Meredith, as she put both arms around Monica, pulled her into a snug embrace, and continued to comfort her quivering friend.

Lost in her thoughts about what or who could have shaken her friend so badly, Meredith failed to hear Monica tearfully whisper, “Not from her.”

What neither girl realized was that sets of tailored subliminal messages would play when they went to bed together to mold their minds towards Hecate’s liking. Tonight, a particular set of brainwashing messages had played specifically for Monica to conjure up her worst fear as she slept, causing her to turn to the only other person in the room for comfort, Meredith. This process would be repeated a few more times, subconsciously pushing Monica into seeking Meredith’s guidance and viewing her redheaded friend as a source of comfort.

A different set of subliminals played in the room for Meredith.

Meredith, you enjoy the feel of a woman’s body against yours.

Meredith, you realize that women should cuddle with other women.

Meredith, it’s natural for women to touch each other.

Meredith, there’s nothing wrong with intimate touching between women.

Meredith, it’s natural for women to kiss each other.

Meredith, there’s nothing wrong with two women kissing each other.

Meredith, two women kissing and touching each other intimately is a beautiful and exciting thing...especially when they are in bed together.

Meredith, a bed is a place of love between two women.

Meredith, a bed is a place for sex between two women.

Meredith, two women sleeping together is a wonderful and natural act.

Meredith, you love sleeping with a beautiful woman.

Meredith, you love sleeping with Monica.

Meredith, you think it’s okay to sleep in the nude with another woman.

Meredith, it’s completely normal for you to touch another woman’s tits, ass, pussy and any other part of her sexy body.

Meredith, Monica’s body feels very nice.

Meredith, you want to touch and feel Monica’s body a lot more.

Meredith, you like the smoothness of her skin.

Meredith, you want to feel her breasts, her soft breasts.

Meredith, you think it’s absolutely fine to grab Monica’s ass and squeeze it.

Meredith, you find it distasteful if Monica goes to bed wearing pajamas and nighties.

Meredith, you don’t like it when Monica goes to bed in bras and panties.

Meredith, you think it would be better if Monica went to bed naked.

Meredith, you need to tell Monica that if she wants to sleep with you, she has to be naked.

Meredith you enjoy the feel of Monica’s nude body against yours.

Meredith, you want to see Monica’s breasts. They turn you on.

Meredith, Monica wouldn’t mind you touching her breasts. She wants you to. It’s okay. It is a natural act between two hot girls, naked in bed together, girls who like each other and who want to get closer and to become intimate girlfriends.

Meredith, you like Monica and you want her to like you. You want to get closer to her and to become her intimate girlfriend.

Meredith, you have a strong urge to take Monica’s big, lovely breasts in your hands, to feel them and to love them. You want to and Monica wants you to. She will like you more if you do. She will love you for it.

Meredith, you want to show Monica how much you love her and her big, beautiful breasts.

Meredith, take her bra off. You want to see her big, beautiful breasts naked. You want to hold them. You want to possess them.

Meredith, remove Monica’s bra.

As the subliminals played on, Meredith unknowingly changed how she was comforting her distraught friend. At first, it was just gentle stroking of Monica’s back to help reassure her that there was nothing in the room or the apartment that could get to her. However, then she started to notice the luxurious texture of Monica’s immaculate skin under her fingers. Touching it, as she never had before but now was, impressed her as a wondrous privilege and a tender, sensual connection to her lovely bedmate. Then she started to become keenly aware of the silky straps of the voluptuous Latina’s bra which crossed over that creamy skin, and she started to finger them. Monica’s soft skin, her womanly curves, and, particularly, her shiny bra, which struck in the back of her mind as both the sacred receptacle of the Latina’s holy breasts and an obstacle to her access to them, began to dominate Meredith’s attention. As she continued to rove her fingers over her friend’s back, Meredith’s hand found the clasp of Monica’s bra. After sliding back and forth over it several times, her fingers stopped and lingered on it. Within a few seconds, they then started to playfully fiddle with it.

Monica could not help but notice Meredith’s hands on her body, with what started off as strokes and pats of welcome consolation, but which then changed into more sensual, seemingly exploratory caresses of her skin and her bra. She wondered what her redheaded friend was doing, but she liked it and didn’t want Meredith to stop, so she was silent, even when Meredith’s fingers seemed intent on popping open the clasp of her bra. Why was she doing that? She wouldn’t really release her bra, would she? Monica found herself inexplicably excited by the possibility, and, for some vague reason, secretly wanted Meredith to do it, although she didn’t know why she would feel like that, plus she couldn’t conceive that the pretty redhead would actually do it. Meredith must be just playing around, maybe teasing her, Monica concluded, but, if that was her objective, then it was definitely working. Another girl playing with her bra, especially such a pretty girl, and particularly the sexy girl to whom she had started to feel a sharp attraction and with whom she happened to be in bed--yes, that was a serious tease, and Monica was feeling it keenly.

Monica became acutely aware of her silky bra, and of her succulent breasts confined in it, and of the way they felt being lifted and embraced, which now seemed to be an erotic experience. Her mind ran back to the numerous times in her life when she had put a bra on, and how good it had felt, as well as the times she had removed a bra, and how that had felt even better. How exhilarating it had felt to liberate her breasts. Bras were divine, both on and off. Or, more correctly, breasts were the divine objects...whether in a bra or freed from one. Her breasts were divine. Big, bouncy, beautiful, and heavenly.

Monica perceived her thoughts evolving about breasts and bras, though her musings were heavily influenced by the subliminals and other mind control to which she had been subjected. Now, even though she knew the idea of being in bed with Meredith or with any other girl without her bra, as well as of being in a bed with a girl who wanted to play with her bra, was outrageously brazen, it was also all simultaneously so right. Somehow, it would be perfectly right...so desirable...just the way it should be.

Monica remembered earlier that night, when she decided to go to bed with Meredith in just her bra and panties, how risque that had seemed to her, especially after she had put up such a stink after having awoken in bed with Meredith a few days previous with both of them dressed only in their bras and panties. She had surprised herself when she had agreed to that with Meredith. It was true that Monica had not been above doing or wearing something a little indecent in her life, but sleeping with another girl in just her bra and panties had never been something she had ever thought she would do. But now...it seemed so natural...so right...so exciting. And to her greater surprise...even in this level of casual immodesty with another girl...she felt herself to be...overdressed...that the only truly proper and satisfying way to sleep with Meredith...as it would be for her with other cute girls, too...as well as between any two cute girls...would be in the...in the...nude...

Hearing no objection from Monica, Meredith continued to play with the clasp of Monica’s bra with her fingers. As influenced by the subliminals directed at her, Meredith reasoned that two girls sleeping together would be much more comfortable doing so topless, or, better, completely nude. Besides, she, Meredith, simply wanted to do it, and wanted to see her roommate’s boobs freed from their prison, and to feel the young woman’s hot body against her own. Nothing was wrong with that, she told herself, repeating a subliminal mantra. Girls sleeping together was always better, much better, when they both were naked. It just made sense, especially if those girls liked each other and wanted to be intimate with each other...which any reasonable girl would want...naturally. Sleeping together naked was clearly best. Plus, it was likely, she further justified, that Monica wanted her to undo her bra. Perhaps she wanted to show off her body to her new best friend, Meredith. That would be perfectly natural, Meredith’s altered mind suggested. So, Meredith, with little effort, undid the simple clasp of Monica’s back bra band.

Oh!! Monica reacted within herself. Her pretty bedmate had actually done it! A thrill shot through the Latina’s voluptuous body, but Monica’s only outward response was to let out a gentle gasp. She made no effort to admonish her redheaded friend or to reverse what had been done. She had let boys do this to her before, and help themselves to a feel, too, but this was different. It was a girl who had just popped her bra open...presumably with the intention of removing it...and, maybe, of feeling her up...like a boy would. Yet..this was so much more exciting than a boy doing it to her. She didn’t understand why she was perceiving it like that, but she knew she definitely was. This was, in some indecipherable way, one of her life’s coolest thrills so far.

Meredith, who was still lying alongside the Latina, embracing and facing her, relaxed her hug and slowly backed away from Monica. The loosened bra cups clung to Monica’s mammary curves, but the union was quite obviously tenuous, and needed only the sight encouragement of a little tug from Meredith on a shoulder strap to finalize the divorce. For that subsequent audacity, she was rewarded with the breathtaking sight of the bra falling away from Monica’s chest and an unfettered view of Monica’s gorgeous, naked breasts, as revealed by the light of the full moon streaming through their large bedroom window and falling directly upon them.

Monica let out a soft gasp of surprise as she felt her bra fall away from her and exposing her large, perky mounds. After remaining paralyzed for a few seconds, giving Meredith the chance to briefly feast her eyes, Monica sat up in bed and instinctively covered herself with her right arm. And yet she felt hesitant in trying to cover up. She had never thought she would display her breasts to another girl, especially so intimately, and the idea that she had done so was, on a certain level, shocking to her...and yet...she wanted to show herself off. It seemed fulfilling. Her breasts were beautiful, she knew, and hiding them struck her in this moment as more obscene than exposing them. And certainly a young woman like Meredith, as one so cute, and as such a close friend, and, especially, as her bedmate, was entitled to see them, if she wanted to, it seemed clear. Monica didn’t know why she thought such things or where those beliefs came from, but they simply seemed to be true. Nevertheless, Monica couldn’t quite bring herself to lower her arm.

Meredith sat up and crossed her legs Indian-style like Monica, close to her. Once again, they ran their eyes over each other in silence for several tense, romantic seconds. The moonlight cast an alluring glow around Monica that Meredith couldn’t resist. The temptation being too great, Meredith slowly reached out towards her Hispanic friend and with a soft grip gently tried to pry Monica’s right arm away from her chest.

Monica instinctively flinched when she felt Meredith place her hand on her arm, and in doing so, Meredith, feeling that she may have done something wrong, backed her hand away, believing she may have crossed a line. Realizing that she had resisted when she hadn’t really needed to or wanted to, Monica, gazing steadily into Meredith’s pretty blue eyes, shifted her body and then, ever so slowly, lowered her arm to give Meredith a clear view of her exquisite breasts.

Both young women stared at each other with longing, Meredith’s eyes glued to the Latina’s creamy, large orbs, zeroing in particularly on Monica’s big, dark, reddish-brown nipples. Monica, seeing that, took increasing pleasure by the moment in her display and in Meredith’s interest, and felt surging confidence in the power of her charms. Monica instinctively pulled her shoulders back a little, making her young tits thrust forward more and her nipples stand up a bit more, causing Meredith’s mouth to drop open slightly. Monica ran her eyes over Meredith’s pretty face, hair, bra, and body, taking in as many details of her bedmate as she could, getting lost in the sexy beauty of the redheaded girl. Impelled by their recent brainwashing, both Meredith and Monica felt sprouting feelings of lust pulsating through their bodies. An amorous atmosphere started to fill the room.

Meredith was the first to break the silent romantic tension that had befallen them. “Monica...Y-you okay?”

Her voice snapped Monica out of her daze. Mustering enough willpower to gently nod her head, indicating to her redhead friend that she was indeed okay--or so she thought. Physically, although her heart was racing, she was otherwise fine, but emotionally, she was disoriented, as if in territory foreign to her. Monica, who had always been as straight as they come, couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards Meredith. Before the previous evening, she had never felt like this around the petite red-haired lass who was sitting in front of her. Monica wasn’t sure she wanted this feeling.

“I guess…we should go back to bed…I mean, back to sleep...since we’re already in bed,” stammered Meredith. “Not that there’s anything wrong with us sleeping together.”

Nodding her head in agreement, Monica reached for her discarded bra, but, to her surprise, Meredith made a move for it herself, grabbing it away from Monica, then casting it off their bed out of Monica’s reach. With a sly look on her face, she assertively declared, “I think you’ll agree you might get a better night’s sleep without wearing something so… restrictive.”

Although Monica had never before felt like that in her life, Meredith’s words struck her as common-sense truth. “Okay,” said Monica sheepishly. “If you say so.”

“Since we’re on the subject of sleeping attire, how about we discard this?” Meredith asked teasingly, as she seductively walked her index and middle fingers up Monica’s bare thigh, titillating the beautiful Latina more than she knew. Reaching her destination, Meredith named her obvious target. “Your panties.” She playfully pulled back the elastic waistband and let go. Monica let out a yelp as she felt the waistband make sharp, snapping contact with her skin. “I think you’ll get a real good night’s sleep if you get rid of ‘em.”

Monica felt herself unable to voice her objections to Meredith’s lewd suggestion. But while she didn’t mind sleeping with Meredith, she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to go so far as to sleep in the nude with her friend. “I-I-I think that…”

“Yeah… I know... It’s a bit unfair that you’re the only one stripping down. I’m suggesting it to you, but I’m not doing it myself. I agree absolutely.” Meredith reached behind her back with both hands. “After all, what kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t willing to take off my bra and panties, too?”

Meredith didn’t see it, as Monica’s face was hidden in one of the dark shadows cast in the room, but the Latina’s eyes opened wide as her mind registered what her friend was suggesting. Monica could not believe that Meredith was willing to strip down herself to make Monica comfortable with being naked with another female. Monica unknowingly found this appealing and found her body aroused by the prospect of seeing Meredith’s nude form and then feeling it against hers the rest of the night.

Monica gulped as she observed Meredith fiddle with the clasp on the back of her bra. That little, slinky silver bralette and the dainty, exciting tits so loosely and so barely covered by it, as well as her shiny matching little panties, and been driving Monica to distraction ever since the redhead had appeared in their bedroom at bedtime clad only in them. That fascination, it now struck the Latina, had actually started that recent morning when they woke up in bed together in the old apartment, with Meredith wearing the same lingerie. Now what she had secretly wanted to happen, unrealized even by herself until this moment, was going to happen. Meredith was going to remove her shimmering bralette and show her mysterious breasts to Monica .

“But as you can see, my beautiful, foxy amiga, I am willing. More than willing.” Flashing the Hispanic hottie a mischievous moonlit smile, Meredith managed to remove her top garment, the skimpy silver satin bralette, and cast it aside like she had done with Monica’s bra. Monica let out a small, pleased gasp as the mounds on Meredith’s chest came into her sight. Their shape was simply elegant. Their nipples, which Monica had assumed would be rather flat, were instead prominent and pointy, and tilted a little upwards, as if asking to be kissed, and were more deeply tinted than she had imagined, along with the surrounding, surprisingly wide areolas, as well. They were perfect. But, to her surprise, they were also bigger, looking fuller and rounder and heavier, than she had previously supposed.

Meredith’s body, including her breasts and rear, had been childishly skinny and “flat” until late in her junior year in high school. Since then, it had been steadily developing, but, by the time Monica had first become her roommate about a year and half before, it had not developed enough to impress the Latina, who had taken one look at the redhead’s relatively still-skinny shape, her little breasts in particular, had dismissed her as inferior and unworthy of further evaluation, and paid her body no notice afterwards. Since then, Meredith’s body had continued to fill out, including not only some growth in her breasts, from an A-cup when they first met to a small B-cup by the beginning of this story, but also widening in her pelvis to a substantially more womanly, wide-hipped silhouette. Unfortunately, although there had been some natural filling out of her derriere, and it had at least become kind of cute, it had not been as much as she had hoped for, either, and was still more or less unremarkable, at least it had been up to a couple of weeks ago. But she had grown taller, as well, from a short 5’0” at age sixteen to 5’2” at the beginning of college to nearly 5’4” at her current age of nineteen.

But such developments in her slim physique had made no new impression on the uncaring, unobservant Latina...at least until earlier this evening, when the two roommates were in the library, and Meredith had worn that tight, cropped tee and hip-hugging jeans. At that time, Monica had indeed noticed Meredith’s shape for the first time in a long time...and had observed that the redhead did have wide hips worthy of an adult woman and did have breasts which could catch someone’s eye...especially her own. But her brain at the time had told her that her new friend’s mammary globes couldn’t be that much different than the small, inconspicuous ones she had seemed to always have had. However...seeing them now...seeing them wonderfully naked...naked like they should be seen, the impression came to her...these...these beauties...they definitely were bigger...and more alluring...and more exciting...than Monica had supposed they could be.

Monica didn’t know if it was the way the sloping curves of Meredith’s mesmerizing breasts caught the light of the moon coming into their bedroom...or maybe it was because she had only seen Meredith’s breasts through clothes and this was the first time she was seeing them naked, the first time she had a good view of them...but she swore that they looked a little bigger than what she could remember thinking they were. The surprise, for some reason she didn’t understand, was an arousing discovery.

Little did Monica realize how right she was. What neither girl knew was that Meredith’s mammary orbs were indeed bigger than just a couple of weeks ago. When Meredith was unconscious under Hecate’s care at the Artemis Centre, she had confided to her captors under mind controlled influence that she perceived the size of her tits to be too small and inadequate, and that she desired larger breasts. So, using a combination of some patented advanced plastic surgery techniques and materials, the agents at Hecate had granted Meredith her wish. They had used something the girls in advanced R&D dubbed synth-stem cells and a procedure they called nano-bonding surgery to enhance Meredith’s figure. Her breasts and her cute rear were lined with a bio-compound that would enlarge and take a voluptuous form when certain hormones entered her bloodstream. Said hormones were placed in a time-release capsule surgically implanted under the left armpit. The hormones had additional effects, such as softening and clearing her skin, so that it henceforth would be perpetually blemish free--including fading her freckles until they eventually disappeared--and bending her personality into a girlier, gigglier, more confident, dominating, sunnier, sultrier, sexier version.

The effects of the surgery and the hormones would unfold over time, with a surge occurring over the first couple of weeks, followed by more gradual changes over a period of a few months. Even now, her breasts that had been little B’s a week or two ago had expanded to large, fully filled-out B’s, nearly C’s, her nipples and areolas, which indeed had been the small, flat, faint-pink items Monica had imagined, had grown, so that now those nipples projected a half-inch, even at rest, her areolas had widened from their original three-fourths-inch diameter to one and a quarter inches, the whole had deepened in color to an alluring medium-dark brownish red, and her rear was now markedly fuller and had become an inviting, eye-catching, round bubble shape, with significantly more growth to come. In time, most likely by the end of the year, Meredith would progress to a very voluptuous DD cup, her nipples would extend to nearly an inch, her areolas would expand to one and three-fourths inches, they would darken and recolor to a beautiful deep, dark red, as they were already well on their way to doing, yet her waist would remain at her whisper-thin eighteen inches, yielding for her a figure that would be not just ample, but breathtaking. Meredith’s mind conditioning included her perceiving the changes to her body to be the natural results of maturation, healthy diet, and exercise. She would also, thanks to her brainwashing, over the coming days, weeks, and months regard her physical changes to be stimulated, at least in part, by the lesbian desires she was having and by the sapphic sex she would shortly be experiencing, and see the purpose of those enhancements to be to entice girls and women into sex with her, and to increase the pleasure of them and herself in those acts, motivating her to pursue sex with girls and women all the more.

Monica was the first to notice the changes in her redhaired friend, first earlier at the library and now in their bedroom, but checking out her redheaded roommate’s body more, much more, would become an obsession for Monica as they spent the following day together.

Regardless of the change in their size, Monica felt and immediately decided that Meredith’s thrilling tits were absolutely beautiful, no matter the size. They were not as big as her own, for now, but in some indefinable way, they were not only just as good, but they were better. Hotter. Sexier.

Meredith reached up to fluff her hair, as if that were necessary to fix it a little, but only really to make her orbs rise and jiggle and to give Monica a longer, more stimulating look. She loved the disarmed, smitten expression on her soon-to-be-girlfriend’s face.

With the same mischievous smile, Meredith then drew her pale thighs together, hooked her fingers under the waistband of her miniscule silver panties, and slowly shimmied them down her sexy hips. Monica’s attention shifted from the perky mounds on Meredith’s chest to the seductive strip tease Meredith was putting on for her over the lower half of her body, her eyes following the sleek satin panties that were gracefully moving down her friend’s beautiful, slender legs. As they reached her feet, Meredith quickly pulled her panties off in a smooth, fluid motion. Opening her legs some and pausing just a second, she gave her friend an intimate view of her red muff. Although Meredith’s cunt lips were largely hidden in shadow, Monica was transfixed by what she did see. She had never seen this much of another girl besides herself, and had never realized that she would be so interested nor that she would be so captivated by a naked Meredith.

Playfully casting aside her panties off the bed, Meredith looked coyly at her friend, leaned in, almost making Monica think that she was going to kiss her--which she would have loved--and in a sultry tone said, “Care to follow my lead, beautiful?”

Monica didn’t need any further encouragement. If this was what Meredith wanted, so did she, and, in fact, now that this was happening, common nudity with the redhead seemed like an awesome idea. Following Meredith’s example, the topless Latina began to take off her own panties. However, her method of removing her panties was different from Meredith’s. While her redheaded friend’s technique was fast, Monica felt compelled to go slow, to tease Meredith. She had the accompanying subliminal messages to thank for that, which messages had been playing for most of the time after Monica had awoken from her nightmare and were still playing.

Monica, you want to seduce women with your body, especially Meredith.

Monica, you want to sleep naked with women, such as Meredith.

Monica, it’s natural for two beautiful women to sleep in the nude.

Monica, you can only get a good night’s sleep if you sleep naked with women.

Monica, your dreams will be pleasant and sweet when you’re naked with another woman.

Monica, you feel comfortable being naked in front of other women, including Meredith.

Monica, you find yourself attracted to Meredith.

Monica, you want Meredith as your lover.

Monica, it’s okay for you to have lesbian desires for Meredith and other sexy women.

Monica, there’s no problem in wanting to have sex with women you think are beautiful.

Monica, you desire to have sex with Meredith.

Monica, when you are with Meredith you feel weak-willed and intimidated by her, but you like that feeling.

Monica, Meredith is your superior.

Monica, Meredith is superior to you because her beauty is superior to yours.

Monica, Meredith is superior to you because her beautiful body is superior to yours.

Monica, Meredith’s breasts are more beautiful than yours.

Monica, Meredith is superior to you because her breasts are superior to yours.

Monica, Meredith is superior to you because she is sexier than you.

Monica, you are okay with Meredith being superior to you. You like her being superior to you. You are happy she is superior to you. You have no problem acknowledging her superiority.

Monica, you freely acknowledge that Meredith is your superior.

Monica, you love Meredith because she is superior to you.

Monica, you want to see Meredith’s superior body naked.

Monica, you want to touch and feel Meredith’s superior naked body.

Monica, you lust for Meredith’s beautiful, superior breasts.

Monica, you find Meredith’s body very beautiful.

Monica, you feel bad for all the times you’ve made fun of Meredith’s superior body.

Monica, you wish you never thought or said any of those bad things about Meredith’s sexy body.

Monica, the only way you can make up for it is to give yourself to her.

Monica, you want Meredith to own you.

Monica, you desire for Meredith to control you.

Monica, Meredith can do anything she wants to you.

Monica, your tits, ass, and pussy belong to Meredith.

Monica, you have no interest in men, now or ever.

Monica, you will never date a man again, nor will you ever marry a man.

Monica, you love beautiful, sexy women.

Monica, you want to marry a woman.

Monica, you want to marry a woman exactly like Meredith.

Monica, you would make an ideal wife for Meredith.

Monica, liking and loving and desiring girls and women, and the thought of kissing them and making love to them, feels so good and makes you very happy.

Monica, you’ll find happiness in dating women, sexy beautiful women, like your roommates.

Monica, you want to date Meredith.

Monica, you want to be Meredith’s lesbian girlfriend.

Monica, you want to look at Meredith’s naked, superior body.

Monica, you want to feel Meredith’s naked body.

Monica, you want Meredith to see your naked body.

Monica, you want Meredith to feel your naked body.

Monica, sexy women like Meredith are your type.

Monica, you find women like Meredith extremely attractive.

Monica, you are attracted to geeky, nerdish girls, the type of girls who like comics books, superheroes, video games, anime, manga, electronics media and devices, math, and science.

Monica, the things nerd girls like, you like, too.

Monica, you wouldn’t mind being a nerd girl yourself, as long as you can be very beautiful and sexy, as well.

Monica, the idea of becoming a nerdish girl is appealing to you.

Monica, you will find yourself getting interested in the nerd-girl interests of Meredith, such as comics, superheroines, anime, manga

Monica, you want to be a nerd girl like Meredith.

Monica, nerd girls turn you on.

Monica, Meredith is your type of woman. You want Meredith to be your lesbian lover.

Monica, you want to see Meredith become sexier, much, much sexier, and more beautiful, extremely beautiful, and very loose morally, and you will support and encourage her transformation.

Monica, you want Meredith to become a beautiful, sweet, dominant lesbian and a randy, sexually uninhibited slut, with you and with other women and girls, and you will encourage and support her in transforming.

Monica, Meredith would make a wonderful wife for you.

Monica, you would make a wonderful wife for Meredith.

Monica, Meredith would love to marry you.

Monica, you’d love to marry Meredith.

Monica, to you Meredith is the embodiment of a sexy, beautiful, superior woman.

Monica, Meredith is the very definition of a sexy, beautiful, enticing, superior woman.

Monica, Meredith is an ideal woman.

Monica, Meredith’s beauty and body are ideal.

Monica, you want to be more like Meredith.

Monica, you love Meredith, very, very much.

Monica, your love for Meredith is romantic and very, very sexual.

Monica, you want Meredith to love you and want you as much as you love and want her.

Monica, you’re a lesbian in love with Meredith.

Monica gently leaned back and, as she did, in a seductive fashion she leisurely raised her long, slim legs into the air. Then she slowly drew her panties over her hips and up her thighs and paused with dramatic effect at her knees, showing her moist womanhood to her friend. Monica didn’t know why, but she was feeling very aroused by the circumstances and by her wanton display.

Monica looked at Meredith, scanning her seductive body again, the nearly-naked Latina seeing an alluring glow shimmering off Meredith’s smooth, pale skin from the moonlight entering their bedroom. She savored every curve and every crevice the dim light would allow her eyes to resolve. When Meredith saw the fascination and lust on Monica’s face as she surveyed the redhead’s slim body, a look of both smug satisfaction and excitement sole across Meredith’s pretty face. She then took her turn raking her eyes across the alluring body of her Hispanic companion.

Monica secretly wondered whether Meredith approved of her naked body and of the way she was taking her panties off. The answer quickly became obvious. Monica saw Meredith’s eyes glued to her body, and especially trying to look between her legs. It became more clear to Monica that she was exposing her pussy for Meredith to see, the lips to her womanhood inflamed with arousal and glistening in the pale moonlight coming into the room...and that Meredith was extremely interested. The look of wanton lust on Meredith’s face as her eyes roamed over her curvy body told Monica all she wanted to know. Excited glee swept over her.

Egged on by the sight of Monica’s aroused sex, Meredith grabbed the panties and slide them up the remaining length of Monica’s legs in a quick, decisive manner, like an eager child unwrapping a gift. Once she had the panties off her friend, Meredith cast them aside and licked her lips, enjoying the sight of Monica’s exposed womanhood, while Meredith held the Latina’s legs up in the air. In an unconscious, instinctive reaction to Meredith’s transparent fascination with her body, Monica almost parted her legs some to give her friend a better view. Before she decided on that, however, Meredith did it for her, putting her hands on Monica’s knees and prying them apart a little more.

Monica was taken aback by the sudden aggressiveness that Meredith was showing. To see the once shy and timid auburn-haired lass assertive and demonstrating a sense of authority over her had Monica feeling conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she wasn’t so sure she should be in such a position, a deferential one. It went against so many of the lessons under which her parents had raised her. She was a Morales, born to a socially elite family that demanded respect from those beneath them. She was raised on the belief that the world was hers to command. And despite the homosexuality of the current situation, Monica thought it should be her towering over Meredith, not vice versa. On the other hand, Monica didn’t feel dominant, like she normally did. She couldn’t find the mental strength to raise any objections or make an attempt to correct the situation. In fact, she found the idea of being subservient fascinating. She was all tingly and excited about the idea of letting go and giving control to another, especially to a beautiful woman like Meredith. And she found Meredith’s aggressiveness and control made Meredith more alluring yet, if not positively beguiling.

With Meredith towering over her, Monica felt her heart racing as she looked up to see the petite beauty holding her legs up and somewhat parted. Realizing her intimate area was exposed and open for Meredith to see and do with as she pleased, Monica turned her head away as a blush of shame crossed her face and as sapphic thoughts entered her mind. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t chase lustful thoughts away.

Meredith found herself entranced by Monica’s luscious breasts and pussy, as Monica was likewise in awe of Meredith’s exquisite body. Finding Meredith’s gaze roaming all over her body, Monica found it comforting and exciting to know that her friend’s eyes were drinking in her sensual body and that she herself was doing the same thing. Yet, the situation seemed to be as it should be. Contrary to Monica’s previous morals, Meredith being able to feast her eyes all she wanted on Monica’s breasts and pussy struck them both as just fine. It seemed that what they were doing was the natural course of events between two pretty girls in bed together.

Meredith was the first to realize the provocative position they were in. What am I doing? This is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this with Monica. I-I want her… I mean I want to be her friend. I shouldn’t have these feelings for her, she thought to herself as she gently set down Monica’s legs. She remained sitting up on the bed, while Monica stayed stretched out on her back on the bed next to her, making no attempt to cover up. Meredith, her eyes still riveted on and roaming over her Latina friend’s glorious, reclined, moonlit body, cleared her throat as she broke the silence. Feel better?”

Monica, who was focusing on the small, darling breasts dangling from the redhead’s chest, enamored and convinced that their beauty exceeded that of her own larger mounds, silently nodded her head in response, blushing even further as she found herself feeling inadequate in front of Meredith.

“I guess we should turn in for the night.” Meredith laid down on her side next to Monica, facing her and propping her head up on her hand so that she was still looking down at Monica, but with their faces much closer together, Monica still on her back, and turning her head towards the redhead.

“O-okay. I’m sorry about earlier,” responded Monica in a meekish tone. “I didn’t mean to… I mean...”

“It’s okay. We all have bad dreams every now and then,” Meredith said assuringly as she leaned in and gently stroked her friend’s long raven-colored locks with one hand. Finding herself returning to a romantic state quickly, despite having just decided not to pursue that mindset right now, Meredith felt incapable of not adding more. “Even beautiful girls...very beautiful girls...like you…” Almost without realizing it, she sank her fingers deeper into the Latina’s glossy hair, loving its silky softness and how it shimmered in the moonlight,and even seemed to have an enticing blue sheen--which Meredith attributed to the moonlight--then playing a little more adventurously through the black mane--a liberty Meredith would not have imagined being able to get away with all the times she had admired the Latina’s hair and wanted to at least touch it in the past, nor would Monica have ever come close to granting such a liberty to the nerd girl, either, although now it seemed quite gratifying to the Latina beauty that Meredith was so obviously attracted to her hair--and leaning just a bit closer.

“I love your hair…” Her hand now slid onto Monica’s shoulder, caressing, mere inches from Monica’s naked moonlit breasts. “And your skin...it’s sooo smooth...so silky...so perfect…” It occurred to Meredith, as if out of nowhere, that, for the longest time, how long she did not know, she had wanted, craved, to be naked with Monica, and to touch her beautiful hair and skin and body...and now here she was...doing all of that...

I’m naked… with Monica. The lustful thought entered Meredith’s mind as she dropped from her semi-propped-up position and laid herself partially onto Monica. Monica wrapped her arms around Meredith’s slim torso and waist. Meredith pressed her nude body against Monica’s. The feel of Monica’s large supple breasts making contact against hers caused an exquisite rush to course through her, causing both young women to let out soft moans of pleasure as they began to sensually rub their bodies against each other.

Monica realized that her hands positioned themselves slightly above Meredith’s hips. They were so close to the globes of her sexy ass. It wouldn’t be so hard for her to alter their position and give her sexy friend’s beautiful rump a good, firm squeeze.

Part of the temptation was the way Meredith smelled--heavenly, like a flower. Monica had never come close to being this near for so long to another girl, especially one as pretty as Meredith, especially while nude and in intimate contact...and especially one who smelled sooo good.

Go ahead. Give it a good squeeze. Meredith wouldn’t mind you playing with her ass. She would love it if a hottie like you gave it a good grope, said Monica’s inner-voice, corrupted by the subliminals and her nightmare. Monica felt very tempted to give in, but she was held back by uncertainty about what Meredith’s reaction would be. She thought she could assume that her geekish friend would be appreciative of her attempt to get an ample handful of the cute derriere that was within reach, but she wasn’t sure.

Monica couldn’t muster up the courage to follow through with her desire. She didn’t know why, but she valued Meredith’s opinion about her and she didn’t want to come off as a sexual pervert.

So both young women lay there together continuing small and gentle caresses of each other’s body, unaware that their minds had been tampered with so that they would drift toward and enjoy such acts with each other.

Meredith broke the awkward silence that was building up between them. “It’s getting late, and I got a few things I want to take care of tomorrow. Think you’ll be having any more nightmares?”

“N-No… absolutely not. I-I just want to say thanks for comforting me. It’s very nice of you, M-Meredith.” Meredith had been noticing the shyness and deference in Monica all night, and she found it to be yet one more arousing aspect, albeit it a new one, of the beautiful Hispanic girl.

“No problem. What are girlfriends for?” Upon saying this, Meredith leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Monica’s left cheek. The Latina fox blushed and a small sigh of pleasure rushed out her mouth as she felt her nerd girl plant the reassuring kiss on her face and Meredith’s lips make contact with her skin. Afterwards, both girls wished that Monica had anticipated the little kiss and had turned her head at the last second to make it another “accidental” mouth-to-mouth kiss, but then they decided to be content with the specialness of the kiss Meredith had just bestowed. “That’s just to wish you pleasant dreams.”

“Thank you...Meredith.”

Soon Meredith and Monica shifted their bodies as they prepared to go back to sleep. Monica turned onto her side away from Meredith, hoping her pretty bedmate would take the hint and wrap her arms around her body. Meredith, lying on her side facing Monica’s backside, snuggled up and did that very thing. Monica let out a gentle purr as she felt her girlfriend's body making contact with hers. She felt Meredith’s hands reach around her waist, settling on her stomach. After running a little over the smooth skin of Monica’s belly, a pleasure Meredith had never dreamed she would ever know, at least with her beautiful but haughty Latina roommate, her hands slid upwards, landing on Monica’s breasts. She groped them slightly before fully realizing that she was touching Monica’s tits. Meredith lowered her hands away. However, Monica--who, as with her hair, would but a few days ago have thrown a fit if the nerd girl, or any other girl, for that matter, had touched her precious breasts like this, even accidentally--laced her hands on top of Meredith’s and pushed them back onto her chest, assuring the red-haired cutie that she had no objections to such carasses and touches. She let out a soft moan as she felt Meredith’s hands stay where Monica had put them, then ever-so-gently squeeze her creamy orbs again.

“Hey, Monica, before you go to sleep, let me ask you. Do you have any plans for later in this day?”

Thinking it over, Monica didn’t have anything really specific lined up, although hope had been brewing within her that she could spend some time, at least, or even much, if not all, of her day with her darling redheaded friend, or girlfriend, which hope had just been enlivened by Meredith’s inquiry. Many times in the past when boys were about to ask her out, they would preface the invitation with a question similar to the one Meredith had just asked. Was she really going to get to spend time with Meredith tomorrow? Or, more, was it going to be a date? Was Meredith going to ask her out? She turned her head back to address her friend. “No, why?”

“Well… I was wondering if you want to join me tomorrow? I’m not planning anything extravagant, but I want to stop by a few places downtown and would like to have my cute friend by my side.” ...my very cute friend...my girlfriend...my hot Latina girlfriend... “So...interested?”

Monica’s heart was suddenly racing. Did Meredith just ask her out? What if it was a date? What would she do? Why did Meredith ask her out? Did this indicate Meredith liked her as much as she was starting to like Meredith? Did Meredith want to start a “relationship”? Would they be on a path to becoming a “couple?” Is that what she, Monica, wanted, too? Should she accept? Monica was confused by the storm of thoughts and emotions on whether she and Meredith were a dating couple, or about to become one, and how she felt about it.

An axiom, which sounded irrefutable, ran from Monica’s subconscious through her conscious mind: Girls should date girls. Variations of that sentiment quickly succeeded: I should date Meredith. I want to date Meredith. I like Meredith. I want Meredith. I want to be with Meredith… I want to belong to Meredith... I want to be her pretty, sexy girlfriend. And even if Meredith wasn’t viewing it as a date, the invitation to spend any time at all the next day with this intoxicating little fox was much too good to pass up. Without further evaluation or hesitation, Monica instinctively blurted out “Yes! I’d love that!”

“That’s good. I...I wouldn’t mind calling it a...a date. Would you?”

A jolt of fresh excitement swept over the Latina, seeming especially to pulse through her caressed mammaries and her naked pussy. It was as if a dream with vague but wonderful, even erotic, ramifications was coming true for her. It was somewhat like getting asked out by a boy on whom she had a crush, except this, with a girl, with this girl, was so much more exhilarating and promising than could be anything involving any young man. “Oh...no… That’s...that’s something I wouldn’t mind...a date…”

“Our second date...right? Girlfriend?”

So...tonight...at the library...was a “date”… She thinks so, too! And...and...we’re ‘girlfriends’?... Wow... “Yes, Meredith.” Monica’s dark-red-nailed hands, already cupped over Meredith’s ruby-red-nailed hands on Monica’s voluptuous breasts, gave a squeeze, affirming Monica’s acceptance of Meredith’s apparent view of the romantic direction their relationship was taking (although “romantic” was not a word either of them would yet use to describe what was going on between them). And there was no thought of calling this dreamy young woman, this red-haired goddess who was feeling her up so marvelously, a “nerd girl” or anything close to it.

The question passed through Monica’s mind whether Meredith had viewed their library excursion as a date from the start tonight. Or had she even thought of it like that when she had proposed it to Monica that afternoon? Also, had she, Monica, really, deep down, thought of it as a date, too, when she first heard it proposed and as she prepared herself for the evening. Had she sensed that their “going out” together, just the two of them, would be the highlight of her night, rather than her going around to her friends to announce her new digs, if not the highlight of her whole day, or maybe even her whole week? Is that why she decked herself to kill? Had she been aiming all of her potent seductiveness at Meredith?

Yes. It was, they did, and she had. That much was clear now, or seemed to be. It had been, in fact, a date...from the start...and they both must have known it...and wanted it… Confused a little at what was going on between them, that realization made Monica feel wonderful, nevertheless.

“By the way...Meredith...I liked our first date,” Monica gushed quietly. “I really liked it.”

“I did, too.”

“Are we still on it?”

Meredith weighed the question a few seconds before answering. “Yes, Monica,” Meredith whispered softly into her new girlfriend’s hair, while running her fingertips emphatically and sensually over the Latina’s inflamed nipples, causing Monica to let out a little gasp of pleasure. “I think we are.”

“Then *gasp* I still like it,” the bewitched Latina panted. “I love it.” Both understood that it wasn’t only the “date”, per se, that she was loving so much, but Meredith and her hands, as well.

“Me, too.” To underscore her agreement, as well as the pleasure she was keenly feeling in holding and caressing and playing with Monica’s breasts--now established to be an act which was part of their ongoing first date, as was going to bed together, shedding all of their clothes, showing each other their naked bodies, and cuddling tenderly in the nude, and all of which was setting precedents for what might well happen again, and more, on future “dates” and upon sleeping together from now on, and possibly even upon just being together in private--the petite redhead pulled on and then softly pinched the stiff, elongated nubs of her new love-dizzy Latina girlfriend with her red-nailed fingers, making Monica audibly moan. Smiling over the enthralling erotic effect she was having on the Latina beauty and her own arousal from the feel of Monica’s beautiful breasts in her hands and of her own little tits pressing and sliding over the perfect, satiny skin of the Latina’s back, Meredith cooed into Monica’s ear, “Good night and sleep tight, beautiful.”

Unable to forebear, Meredith placed a gentle kiss on the soft skin of Monica’s neck, then continued to gently play with her new girlfriend’s tits a little more.

“Mmmm,” was Monica’s simple, dreamy, sleepy, pleased response.

The lovely Latina shivered in delighted pleasure, both at feeling the cute redhead’s soft lips, insistent little breasts, and adventurous hands, and in the contentment of knowing they would be going out together again the next day--on an unquestionable girl-girl date...maybe, hopefully, the first (or second, depending on one’s view of their library date) of many dates--as well as at hearing Meredith’s last word, the latest in a string of positive acknowledgements this evening of Monica’s allure by the woman she was beginning to idolize, with whom she was now entering into a mutually welcome and open, if undefined, dating relationship, and whom she was unknowingly starting to regard as her lover. The kiss, the caresses, their precious new relationship, and the compliment moved her to press Meredith’s red-nailed hands into her hot mounds even more tightly. Shortly, she laced her fingers with Meredith’s yet again, the intertwining of their hands rapidly becoming a fond, automatic, distinguishing practice between them.

She thinks I’m beautiful, Monica thought as she closed her eyes for sleep. Monica felt her body relax, soothed and bewitched by Meredith lying naked next to her and caressing her large, young naked mammaries. It felt so natural, so perfect. Sleeping with another girl, especially in the nude, and particularly with this incredible redheaded--well, goddess--was vastly superior to sleeping alone. And it was nothing at all like being with a guy, although Monica had never really slept with a male, but this was an infinitely sweeter and more stirring experience than any she had had with a boy or could imagine having, it was now quite clear. In fact, she could not conceive at this moment why she ever even had dated guys, so crude and unappealing their company was in comparison to being with Meredith, and felt she would have to force herself if she were ever to get interested in a man again.

Meredith was feeling very similar about the situation and the developments of the evening. Meredith was loving having been on a date with another girl--especially with a voluptuous beauty like Monica--and now being in bed with her! She did not understand why this had been and continued to be such a beautiful and exciting experience, and why Monica--and other girls, like Abby, the hot Asian girl who had guided them around their new living quarters, and Claire, her “other”, secret girlfriend--aroused her so much, and made her want to get naked and physically intimate, for Meredith had never felt like that around girls, that she could remember, until just recently, particularly since she and Claire had had their little “chats”. But sleeping with Monica naked and cradling her big breasts in her hands, seemed to be exactly what she should be doing and what she had wanted, wanted immensely, although she had not planned it like this, really, beforehand. Her general intent had been to get closer to Monica, to get her attention and turn her on a bit, to break down her pride and her heterosexuality to whatever degree she might--two facets of Monica which seemed to be intrinsically intertwined, so undermine one and you undermine the other at the same time--and to even wrap her around her finger some, if possible; but this...this was more, and this happened way faster, than she could have possibly imagined.

It was now undeniably obvious: Monica liked her, all of a sudden, a lot. She had been deferring to Meredith, loving her praise, and ogling her incessantly, behaviors opposite to those characteristic of her previously. And now Monica was cuddling with her like a love-sick puppy, and allowing, no, encouraging her to play with her precious, naked breasts. Nothing could be more perfect.

But...why? Claire had a good plan, but why was it coming to fruition so fast? Meredith searched for an answer. The only thing she could put her finger on as a possibility was the one that had occurred to her before: Meredith’s makeup and her clothes. She had made herself up, fixed her beautiful hair, and showed off her body and her skin sufficient to entice for their library date. Monica had seemed unable to keep her eyes to herself over that time. The redhead also thought back to the Latina’s reaction to her when she emerged from the bathroom in her skimpy silver bralette and panties, posing seductively. Yes. It must have worked. She again concluded that she would ply Monica even more extremely in the same way in the future. They were going to date and Monica was going to be her girlfriend. Tonight was a great start and their date tomorrow was going to advance their relationship...in whatever direction Meredith wanted it to go.

Monica focused with pleasure on the comforting, titillating little kisses Meredith had just given her, wishing they had been more, and on how they were sleeping naked against each other, and on the sweet praise she had received from her friend, just now as well as earlier on their...their date..their first date.

I’m beautiful… Meredith thinks so… And we’re...we’re dating… Mmmmmmm… That must mean she’s...she’s my...my…girlfriend… She said so….. That...that sounds...good… In fact, we’re going out tomorrow… I get to be with Meredith tomorrow again… I’d like to spend the whole day with her...and...of course... the whole night again...

Girls should date girls...and have girlfriends… ...and sleep together……...naked……… It’s so ...natural…and lovely……. She’s so sweet...and...so...very...beautiful…

As Monica’s mind began to drift off, she worried that she would be stricken again with a terrible dream, but that worry slipped away as she realized that Meredith--her loving protectress--was with her. And, indeed, this time she wouldn’t be haunted by nightmares, but would instead enjoy pleasant dreams of her and Meredith dating, getting to know one another, kissing again, making out, passionately making love to each other, marrying, and raising a family together. A small smile appeared on her face as she drifted off into slumber.

Even though Monica’s feelings this evening were quite clearly and increasingly those of a lesbian girl, she denied them as such for the most part, only recognizing them as such fleetingly, and not seriously, or at least she had not yet. If someone had suggested to her that her current views, urges, and actions were purely homosexual in their essence, she would have dismissed the notion as ludicrous--even as she lay in bed naked with another naked girl, who had just stripped completely naked in bed expressly for Monica, while stripping Monica to completely nude exposure, as well, a girl she had rapidly come to adore more than any other person in her life, whom she had actually just started dating, and who had her wrapped in her arms and was playing amorously with her large, naked breasts.

The Latina knew the desires swirling within her were new, but she had never had such a tight friend before as the one Meredith had become in the matter of a few hours this evening, and she justified herself by assuming that this was simply how it felt to be this close to a “bosom buddy”, as it were. She had thought of Claire as her best friend up until now, and during the course of the day had been having a new and peculiar interest in her, as well, but what she had going on with Meredith was totally new and remarkable and euphoric. She thought she could explain everything sexual she had been feeling and doing this day as her simply maturing and becoming more open-minded, to the point that she was now capable of a deeper friendship than before, and Meredith just happened to be the one to bring that out in her…because Meredith was so special...was so beautiful...was so...sexy…

As Monica gave in now with weakened restraint to her instilled subconscious desires and to the erotic sensuality of her current situation, infatuation for the redhead blossomed further within the black-haired beauty.

I...I think I...I love Meredith… I love her personality… I love her smile… I love her voice… I love her face… I love her hair… I love her body… I loved seeing her wonderful little breasts… I...I guess I wanted to...have wanted to...and...finally...did…and they are the yummiest little things I have ever seen.…...and her...her lovely...red...muff……. I love the way her body feels against mine… It fits so perfectly to me… I love feeling her cute little breasts on my back…the way her...her nipples...rub...and poke...into my skin…….. I love her hands...on my breasts…playing with me...with them...like no one else ever has before...making me feel so beautiful....and soooo good…oh, yes!......mmmmmm………..

I love being with her… I love really being naked with her... I love how I feel with her...safe...loved...good…comfortable...natural...excited…sexy…....beautiful…….

The Latina reflected briefly on the numerous girls with whom she had crossed paths today to whom she had felt attracted, including various coeds in her classes, the two acquaintances of Abby whom they had passed during the tour of the Suites...especially the delicious, flirtatious blonde...Claire, of course...curvy, lovely Claire...and the intoxicating Abby...not to mention Meredith...

I love girls……. I love pretty girls…….

The word “lesbian” had not crossed her conscious mind this day, not in any way that stuck, or that she thought applied to her, really...until precisely at this moment, her altered subconscious sapphic mindset momentarily piercing through with greater candor than it yet had, although she would not remember this admission the next morning…

I... I’m a...a lesbian…

The little smile on her face broadened as she slipped from the realm of the wakeful into a dreamland which would only embed that confession to herself all the deeper as the dominant truth of her future life.

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

Elsewhere...

Jessica was on her back staring up at the ceiling in her dark bedroom or, more specifically, her’s and Claire’s bedroom...the one that she was sharing with her crush...their bedroom...in their bed. As amazing as that was to her, she was nevertheless in a restless mood. She turned her head to stare at Claire’s sleeping figure, mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of her luscious breasts as Claire drew in and then exhaled breath. Jessica found herself desperately wanting to reach over and caress them. If only she had been able to look through a wall or two into the neighboring bedroom at what her other roommates were doing in their bed, she might have been highly encouraged as to her own future prospects with Claire, not to mention the voyeuristic sapphic titillation she would have derived from the scene.

But, ignorant of the happenings in the other bedroom, she reflected that the woman she loved was sleeping next to her and she could do nothing about it. Jessica couldn’t touch her, hold her, or caress her. She couldn’t get away, she feared, with any form of affection towards her, at least not anything that came close to what she felt like doing, not unless she wanted to have Claire freak out again. The painful memory of Claire rejecting her earlier that evening was still fresh in her mind. While Claire had made amends, Jessica didn’t want to risk their friendship by starting another incident.

I love you, Clairebear. I wish I could let you know that you own my heart, my soul, and my body. Especially my body. It’s here, just for you. Take me and do anything you want. I wish I could just tell you that, instead of having to keep it to myself and only being able to think about it, Jessica mused as she continued to stare at her crush’s semi-naked body.

Her desire overrode her better judgment and self-restraint. Cautiously and at first not fully knowing what she was doing, she reached over intending to gently caress Claire’s breasts through their bra-confines. Upon realizing more clearly what she was about to do, Jessica paused and considered retracting her arm. But then she decided to throw caution to the wind, hoping and praying that Claire was a heavy sleeper. She dropped her hand onto one of the glorious mounds on Claire’s chest covered by a sexy pink-frilled, black lace bra cup, at first just resting it there. As soon as her hand made contact with the soft, fleshy orb, Jessica flinched, half-expecting Claire to bolt up from her slumber. However, hearing only the soft, rhythmic breathing of her friend and observing as Claire’s only movement the shifting of her chest as sleep continued to hold her in its clutches, Jessica let out a soft sigh of relief. She began to cop a feel of Claire’s magnificent right breast, squeezing and releasing it repeatedly ever so lightly.

As she continued her sensual massage of Claire’s right mammary, Jessica, to her gratification, observed Claire’s body gently responding to Jessica’s lover’s caress, as she squirmed a little, her mouth opened a bit, her rate of breathing increased by a barely perceptible degree, and Jessica started to hear soft sounds of pleasure escaping Claire’s mouth. To feel up her beloved like this, and to be able to do it so soon after she had realized this was the girl for her, and to see her respond to her erotic touches, was truly a dream come true.

Yet, Jessica wanted more. She wished that Claire would return her affections. Then a wicked idea popped into her mind. Maybe Claire could participate in the intimacy in which Jessica wanted both of them to be. Gently shifting her body so she wouldn’t wake her slumbering friend, Jessica placed her body as close to Claire’s body as possible. Then taking a deep breath, Jessica cautiously lifted Claire’s left arm. With trepidation, she placed it on top of her body.

Gently Jessica took Claire’s left hand with her right and maneuvered it between her, Jessica’s, legs and then inside her panties. She let out a sharp pleasurable hiss as she guided her crush’s fingers in making contact with the lips of her dripping wet pussy. One day you’ll do this for real, of yourself, without me having to make you do it. You won’t be able to resist my pussy. I’ll make sure of that. It will call to you and you will get into my panties all on your own. I promise you, Clairebear, that you’ll find me willing and ready, thought Jessica as she stared longingly into Claire’s face, her hand on top of Claire’s, maneuvering her friend’s digits to play with her excited pussy. Jessica had been looking at Claire’s hands a lot over the last few days, admiring how slender and smooth they were, and the shape and length of her fingernails--not “long” yet, but a nice longish medium length--and imaging them caressing her body and venturing into her panties, and now one of those hands was actually inside her panties, playing with her pussy and working her up towards a girl-girl climax. She even had painted fingernails, which Jessica found turned her on even more. Even though Claire was soundly sleeping through the whole thing and Jessica was manipulating Claire’s digits with her own, she pretended that Claire was awake and feeling Jessica up on her own, out of lust for the pussy of her best friend and new bedmate.

Jessica did her best to stifle the moans of lust trying to rush out her mouth. She didn’t want to wake Claire up, but the fact that her lesbian crush’s hand was between her legs was nearly too much sexual excitement for Jessica to contain.

Ohhh, Claire… You want me, don’t you?... You want my pussy… Go ahead… It’s yours… Mmmmmmm.

Jessica’s eyes went wide as she heard Claire’s heavenly voice in her mind, as if responding to her. Yes… Your sexy pussy belongs to me, you pretty cunt. Everything in your panties is mine. You like my hand there...between your legs...in your panties...playing with your cunt...don’t you? This is what you want, isn’t it, my fucking slut?! She turned her head to face Claire but found her still sleeping.

Jessica let out a sigh of relief, as it would be hard for her to explain why she had her best friend’s hand between her legs and was using it as a masturbatory aid. She began to relax again and enjoy the erotic pleasures coming from between her legs.

You didn’t answer my question. It this what you want? asked Claire’s voice within Jessica’s mind.

Y-yesss… Jessica mentally hissed in response to her sexy friend’s mental voice. She continued to move sleeping Claire’s fingers in and out of her wet pussy.

And yet, here you are. Using my hand, while I’m sleeping...and unaware, I might add...to get yourself off...depriving me of all this fun. You’re pretty selfish, aren’t you?

Oh, no, Claire, I-I’m not. I want you to have pleasure, too. S-should I wake you?

I think you know the answer to that one, my sweet, sexy slut

Jessica felt her pussy spasm on Claire’s finger as the mental phantom of her lesbian love called her “slut”. She felt that it was appropriate. She liked being a slut, she wanted to be a slut, especially a slut for Claire.

As her mental gears cranked around, the truth, as it seemed, clarified before Jessica’s eyes: Claire’s ideal sexual companion and perfect life partner would be a woman who was both thoroughly hedonistic in her nature, sexually easy and open to any sapphic depravity, and yet embodied a strong feminine petite mindset, and absolutely submissive to her. Claire wanted a union with a woman that could go from dainty, happy housewife to a complete slut, a woman that knew how to skillfully use cosmetics and fashion to bring out her beautiful womanly features along with the knowledge of the pleasures of the flesh, and to serve her every sexual whim, and anything less would never do.

That’s right, Jessie. Now you’re starting to get it. I like my girIs hip deep in feminine lesbian sex. If you’re not going to make yourself pretty for me and put out whenever I want you, don’t bother. I don’t want a tomboy hiding her true self with yucky things like sports or having an in-your-face attitude. I want a girl that blushes with embarrassment whenever I whisper the naughty things I want to do to her sexy body in her ear. I want a petite whore who pines for me, who’s willing to fuck at a moments notice. A woman that wants to look soft, submissive and delicate, one that is defined by the smooth erotic curves of her body, not a six-pack abs and muscle definition. My ideal lesbian lover is a bad, slutty, enticing submissive lipstick lesbian who will seduce me into ravishing that heavenly hole between her legs. If you want me to put a ring on that finger of yours, then you need to transform yourself into a beautiful, ultra feminine, girly girl who’s focused on being my sexy, lesbian fuck slut who’ll obey my every whim. Can you be that kind of woman for me, Jessie?

Y-y-yess, Jessica mentally agreed, the pleasure coursing through her body too strong to control. Unable to resist any longer what her body was going to do, she embraced the onrushing orgasm caused by her beloved’s fingers in her snatch. Her back arched as she felt her pussy convulse and drench her panties and Claire’s fingers with her female sex liquids. Jessica placed her free hand over her mouth to stifle the moan of pleasure rushing out.

As the intense sexual rush passed over her, Jessica did her best to quietly come off the delightful erotic high that assaulted her senses, taking deep, calming breaths, trying to calm her body as the pleasurable spasms emanating between her leg traveled up her spine.

When she thought her climax had passed, she slowly and carefully moved Claire’s slick hand away from her wet crotch, feeling some disappointment as she had to disengage herself from Claire’s probing digit. However, that feeling passed quickly, as she discovered a new treat. Jessica brought her girlfriend’s hand to her face, slick with her love fluid, and began to clean it with her tongue, savoring the erotic flavor with each lick of her tongue.

One day you’ll let me do this for real Clairebear, Jessica thought as she performed the lewd oral act on Claire hand. I promise I’ll become the cutest lesbian slut of your fantasies. I’ll be so sexy and become a girly girl, you won’t be able to resist me. You won’t want to. I’ll make you fall in love with me, Claire, my beloved, the same way I love you.

That’s my girl, encouraged Claire’s mental image in Jessica’s mind.

After finishing, Jessica carefully crawled over Claire, kissed her on the lips, and then gently snuggled up against Claire’s body. A gentle purr coming from her lesbian crush’s lips, Jessica felt content that she managed to get away with the scandalous act she had just performed with her sleeping friend. She drifted off into slumber, hopeful that one day the fantasy scenario she had just stealthily enacted would become open, mutual reality.

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

Claire began to stir out of her slumber. The feeling of the warm glow of the morning sun kissing the skin of her face encouraged her to wake up, open her eyes, and greet the new day. Claire slowly sat up and stretched to work the kinks out of her body.

She noticed that Jessica was not in bed to greet the morning with her. A faint feeling of sadness hit her as Claire so did want to wake up with her very beautiful friend beside her...and, especially, wanting to see Jessica’s hot, sexy body in that fetching ice-blue bra and panty number again. That would have been a great sight to wake up to.

She looked so… beautiful. I should encourage her to wear more sexy clothing.

Turning inward, she noticed that she felt wonderful. She recalled now that she had dreamt and dreamt, but she couldn’t recall specifics right now. She had the impression that it was sexual and that, oddly, it had featured Regina or Abby or both. Maybe Traci, too. But she felt good.

Little did she know that Jessica had felt up her tits after Claire had fallen asleep and had also used Claire’s dormant hand to pay with her pussy, nor that such acts had influenced parts of one of her dreams, all of which were now being implanted into her and controlled by Hecate technology, similar to the dreams dreamt by Monica and Meredith. In her dream, Claire had envisioned herself back in her high school years at home. She was in her mother’s bedroom. Her mother, Regina, was instructing her on bras, expounding on the variety of bras available, giving her recommendations and tips, describing and demonstrating ways to put bras on and to remove them--and the effects possible to achieve when another female was watching--and helping her try on bras from Regina’s own extensive collection. Being a dream, all of the bras fit her perfectly.

The teenaged Claire found herself in a lacy black push-up bra with lacy pink trim, which happened to be the exact same bra Claire was wearing that night in real life. Her mother was behind her as they looked in the mirror together. Regina pushed Claire’s breasts together, emphasizing the way the bra created extra cleavage. While doing that, Regina’s red-nailed fingers strayed playfully across the cups of the bra, Claire squirming and giggling with the play, pleased with the way those sexy nails looked and felt raking across the see-through black material.

“This is definitely a keeper. Let’s try another, darling.” Claire assenting, Regina unfastened the back bra strap, pulled down the shoulder straps, and withdrew the bra cups from her daughter’s large tits. “Ooo, la la,” the mother squealed at the sight. “Beautiful!” The woman, still standing behind her daughter as they both looked in the mirror, ran her hands delicately over Claire’s teen breast flesh, savoring the look and the feel of her daughter’s maturing orbs.

Regina took up another bra and strapped it on the girl. Claire took a sharp intake of air as she viewed the effect. Regina had chosen a hot-pink demi shelf bra with open cups, which lifted her breasts but did not cover her developing areolas and nipples. “But...but, Mom... are you...are you sure I can…”

“Posh.” She slipped a red-tipped finger over her daughter’s pink-painted lips. “It’s perfect. You’ll drive the girls crazy with that. Especially if you do this…” Regina took a tube of red lipstick and painted the teen’s nipples bright red.

“Oh!” Claire could hardly believe how sexy the result was. Mom...that’s...that’s so cool..”

“Yes...your date tonight is sure to like it…”

Claire remembered that she was going out with her girlfriend Monica that night. “Ohhh...yeah…” She looked at her reflection with new fascination and appreciation.

“Here’s another one. Let’s try this one on, too.” After helping her teen daughter out of the demi-bra, she helped her into a bralette of sheer gold satin. “This one doesn’t offer much support, but it’s quite inviting. I think you’ll want to wear it for the big dance next week with Abby. Hmmmm?”

Claire felt dreamy anticipating her date with the lovely Asian girl. Monica was always good for a great night in the sack--she was such a cheap whore--but Abby was someone she could see herself settling down with.

But so was Mom. Claire had to be honest with herself. She had a raging crush on her mother. And the way Mom was touching her wasn’t helping her concentrate on choosing bras or getting ready for her date.

“And look, honey. You can see your red-painted nipples through the bra! Isn’t that awesome? If it’s not Abby, it’s going to be some other girl you’re going to give a heart attack to with this bra.” Both women smiled at the humor.

“I don’t see how other girls could resist you.” Regina, standing behind the girl, groped her breasts through the skimpy bralette. “I can’t.” Regina pulled the “cups” (if they could be called that) of the bralette up over the teenagers breasts and seized them again in her red-nailed hands, squeezing and pulling and playing. Claire tossed her head back and moaned with delight.

“Ohhh, Mom…” At the same moment in real life, Jessica was playing with Claire’s breasts in their bed, affecting what Claire was dreaming.

Regina turned her daughter around so they were looking at each other. “We haven’t talked about panties yet, sweetheart.” Regina lifted her loose silver silk skater miniskirt above her waist and took Claire’s hand in hers. “Let me show you what panties are for, and what qualities you want in them.” The mother slid Claire’s hand inside the front of her red satin bikini panties. “You see how easy it was to enter my panties? You don’t want the waistband to be too tight. And you don’t want to wear granny panties that cover you up too much. You certainly don’t want to frustrate some pretty girl who’s trying to get in them. Small, sexy panties are always better. Mine are bikini-style, but you’ll like thongs and g-string styles even better. I’ll lend you some of mine.”

Still controlling the hand, Regina pushed Claire’s fingers into contact with her wet pussy lips. Both mother and daughter gasped at the touch. “There. That’s nice, isn’t it? A woman’s pussy feels better than anything in the world. And the feel of the material on the back of your hand is so sensual, don’t you think? So choose panties that are very silky. It kind of makes a hand want to go even further, hmmm?” The sexy mother guided Claire’s fingers into her wet slit, and mewed. Claire loved her mother’s panties and the privilege of getting into them. At the same time in the real world, Jessica was probing her own pussy with the sleeping Claire’s fingers, again influencing thereby the action Claire was experiencing in her dream state.

Claire once more saw herself in the mirror with Regina behind her, this time with Regina’s hand in her panties, her fingers gliding in and out of her wet young slit. “Ohhh...Mom…”

“Do you like that, honey? This is what panties are for. Can you imagine Traci doing this to you tonight?”

“Traci? But I thought I was going out with Monica.”

“No. Not tonight. It’s going to be Traci.” Claire remembered that she in real life, in fact, was going to start dating Traci on the upcoming day, and it excited her. “Didn’t you tell her you were going to dye your hair blonde?”

“Oh...uh...I don’t think I promised…”

“But you want to...don’t you?”

“Um...yes…”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I...uh...I don’t know… It’s kind of a big step.”

“You know, Traci will love you if you do it. I will, too. Abby, Meredith, Monica...all of your girlfriends will lust for you if you color your hair. And it will make you a lesbian, at last. Don’t you want to be a lesbian, sweetheart? A beautiful, sexy, blonde lesbian? Don’t you want other sexy girls and beautiful women to fall madly in love with you? And to want to fuck you? Don’t you want to get into the their panties, and to fuck them? As a beautiful, blonde lesbian?” All the while, Regina was playing with Claire’s pussy, inflaming her.

“Y-yes *gasp*, Mom…...but……”

Traci took Regina’s place behind Claire, as seen in the mirror, making Claire’s eyes pop open. They were both nude. “Traci!” Traci slid three fingers into Claire’s pussy and started to fuck her. “Ohhh...you’re so...so…”

“Beautiful. Exactly. And why do you think that?”

“Because...ah!...because you’re so...so blonde…”

“Right! Just like you’re going to be! Here…” Traci slipped her hands into Claire’s black hair, yet, because this was a dream, she also had a hand in the teen girl’s panties and continued playing with her steaming snatch. “Let’s get started.” With that, Traci started to sink her sharp-nailed fingers into Claire’s hair and scalp, raking and massaging.

Claire saw her hair start to lighten. Within a few seconds she had achieved a charcoal grey color, still dark but definitely grey rather than black.

“Do you like that, Claire? It’s better than the black you started with, isn’t it?”

Claire did like it. Very much. In fact, her change started to turn her on, especially with Traci’s fingers fucking her pussy. “Oh...yeah! This *ahhh!* is cool…”

“And it didn’t take much to get it. Just a little lightening. Want to try a little more?”

“O-okay…”

“Good girl. By the way, you can call me ‘Mom’, too, okay? Here we go…” Traci repeated her soft assault on Claire’s dark-grey hair, finger-combing and massaging until the hair lightened again, this time to a lighter, shinier gray that was assuming silvery tones. Claire took a quick intake of air. “Ah. So you love this, don’t you? You look spectacular, honey!”

Claire felt her pussy tingle and quiver at the sight. “Mom...I...I like it...so much! Is it...is it, like silver?”

“Well, almost. I’d call it a kind of medium silver-grey. But this is more like the real you, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah.”

“You could never go back to black, could you?”

“...no...I guess not…”

“Well, then. Why stop here? Want to go further? Lighter? To blonde? Beautiful, stunning blonde?”

“Yes...ohhh...please, Mom! Yes!”

Traci repeated her beauty treatment with her hands. Her dream-version third hand had slid around Claire’s hip to her anal crack and was now starting to probe her anus, making Claire jump a little in erotic excitement.

Within seconds, Claire saw her hair lighten more, until her hair shimmered in silver blond tones.

“There!” Now you’re blonde! Blonde and beautiful! The way you were always meant to be! What do you think, my love?”

Claire’s nipples pulsed and hardened and elongated and her pussy throbbed and watered with lust. She felt her body start to orgasm. “Oh, my gosh! I can’t believe it!” Traci stuck her probing finger deeply into Claire’s anal passage. “Ah! Ohhh!”

“You want to be even blonder? Here, let’s go all the way, shall we?”

Traci sank her fingers deeply into Claire’s hair and anus. The girl let out a shriek of orgasm. ‘Ooooooooooo!!” When she recovered and looked in the mirror, her hair was silvery white platinum blonde. The sight caused her orgasm to climax and shoot her ecstacy even higher. Again she moaned loudly. “Ohhhhhhhh, fuuuccckkk!!”

Traci exclaimed, “Wow!! What an unbelievable, total fox you are!!! Now you are finally the lesbian you were meant to be! What a beautiful lesbian slut! I can’t believe I’m dating you, my beautiful daughter! My blonde girlfriend! Wow! I’m getting first in line to propose to you!” Traci spun the teen around, kissed her passionately, and slid her hand between the girl’s legs to start finger-fucking her pussy again. Claire again climaxed, her wail this time being swallowed by Traci’s mouth, as the dream ended.

Basking in the afterglow of her dreams and reflecting warmly on Jessica’s sexy appearance the night before, how it felt to cuddle in their bed wearing only their bras and panties, and what might have happened between them if Jessica had remained in bed longer this morning, but not wanting to dwell too much on what-ifs and what-could-have-beens, Claire got out of bed and marched herself to the bathroom to handle her morning hygiene and beauty routine, when she heard her smartphone ring. Picking it up, Claire saw it was Regina, making her heart skip a beat..

“Hello?”

“Good morning, dear. It’s just me, Regina...your mother. Did you have a good night’s sleep?” Regina knew well what kind of dreams her young protégé had enjoyed, and wanted her to stay close to the impressions she had taken away from them.

“Hi, Regina…I mean, Mom…” It’s so nice to talk to her so soon. “Oh…yeah…I had some…some dreams… I don’t quite remember………but…I think maybe you were in one… I’m not sure…but...yeah… I think so...”

“Well, I hope it was a nice dream. What happened between us?” Again, Regina already knew the answer.

Not wanting to admit that she had dreamt of sexual interaction between them, Claire answered ambiguously. “Uh…I…I think it was nice…but…uh…”

“I wonder why you’re dreaming of me. Maybe it was from….. Darling, do you remember what happened…between us…at the end last night, as you walked out the door?”

As if on cue, a clear recollection of the soft, tender kiss that Regina gave her before departing for the evening came to Claire. As she relived the sweet, sticky sensation of her dark violet, lipstick-painted lips meeting the equally heavily-coated, deeply-colored, delicious plum-purple lips of her beloved ideal woman, a vivid picture of the exchange, as if from the perspective of a third-person onlooker, formed in her mind, as well. Her body reacted with sharp arousal to the recalled feeling and image of her and Regina sharing that tender moment. Not only had Claire found the experience to be sublimely pleasurable, but now, in retrospect, she recognized it as the most exquisite moment of her young life so far. It felt like she had wanted to do that with Regina, had wanted to kiss her, and to join with her, physically and emotionally, in other vague but intimate ways, too, from the first moment she had met her. What was Regina going to say about the kiss? That they had crossed a line, that she wished it hadn’t happened, and that they could never do it again? That possibility seized Claire with dread. She achingly hoped that their first kiss would not be their last one. The old Lay’s potato chip jingle crossed her mind: “One is not enough.”

“Oh…yes…”

“Did you like that?”

“Yes.”

“Me, too. Very much.” Relief poured through Claire. Whew! It doesn’t sound like she regrets it. “I dreamt of you, too. Very nice, sweet dreams. One thing leads to another, I guess. I’d like to see you again…just the two of us…socially. Would you like that, too?”

“Yes, Mom… I’d love that.”

“Then we will……” Regina left it open-ended, with the intention of giving Claire another occasion, when she was ready, to ask a woman out, already knowing about Claire’s call to Traci the night before. She knew that, now that Claire had ventured to ask Traci out, then asking out another woman, Regina, would be just a little easier, especially with Claire knowing in advance that the woman was receptive. And if Claire didn’t ask, then Regina would.

“By the way, you’ve made quite an impression on one very pretty young Japanese girl with whom I happen to live. She told me that she can’t stop thinking about you and how much she wants to be with you again, very soon. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she has a raging crush on you, darling. Just wanted to let you know. She would be a very hot girlfriend for some lucky girl…” The news was music to Claire’s ears. It was just what she’d been hoping for in relation to Abby, and sent a tingle through her pussy. It was almost as if Abby had eaten her pus-- Oh! I…I think I fantasized about that…while I was daydreaming last night!… Why would I do that?....Or…was it real?..... No… I don’t think that really happened………….but if she did that to me………… would I mind…?

“So, I got a call from Traci last night. She was so excited that you called her up and that you’re going to spend the weekend together! It almost seems like you asked her out on a date, hmmm? I’m so pleased that you’re doing this with her and for her. With her being a single mother and helping me with my job, it can be a bit stressful for her, although she rarely shows it. I know that Traci rarely gets time to enjoy herself and could probably use the company. I always had my suspicions that there was a bit of chemistry between the two of you. To be honest, I’m afraid you were all too easy to read, and Traci, too, always has a far-away look In her eye when your name is mentioned. I know she really likes you…a lot…”

Really? Claire thought. I didn’t know she liked me like that… But it’s cool… I feel the same way about her.

“She’s so excited about seeing you today…and dating you!”

Is that what we’re doing? I remember Traci said let’s call it a date...and now Regina thinks that’s what we’re doing, too… Okay… “Date” is fine with me. .. Hmm… I...I kind of like the idea, too, for some reason. It will be my first date with a woman...and what a woman! Ought to be interesting....And it can only help my standing with Ms. Powers for me to date a beautiful woman like Traci…

“Is that what you want it to be, Claire? A date? A date with a woman?”

“Yes, Mom. Traci and I will be dating.” That sounded so good after she said it, like a dream coming true. “And...I can’t wait.” Again, after it came out of her mouth, she knew it was true.

“Wow, looks like I was more right about you than I thought. Traci’s really gotten to you, as much as you’ve gotten to her! I was hoping for that after you two met. What a darling couple you’ll make. But I wanted to let you know a thing or two first. You know, Traci just got divorced…”

“Yes, I remember her mentioning that…”

“Well, that has left a void in her heart and in her home. Mind you, both Traci and her daughter know they’re much better off without that creep. But Natasha misses having two parents around. Sometimes she mopes around, wishing for her mother to have a special someone in her life. I think there might be a little strain between them, sometimes, too, because her Mom hasn’t found anyone yet, and because of the ongoing voids in their home. I would like to see those two become closer. There is nothing quite as beautiful as mother-daughter love, Claire--kind of like you and I are developing, you know? Sometimes a mother and daughter fall in love, and share their lives with each other deeply, and it’s a wonderful thing.” Claire had to wonder whether Regina was implying something about the direction of her relationship with Claire, and the possibility excited her. In any case, on the basis of what Regina had just said and what her brainwashed subconscious whispered to her, she understood, she thought, the kind of relationship Regina envisioned for Traci and Natasha, one of attraction, strong love, and, even some intimacy.

“And Traci misses having a partner…and having someone in her bed. Maybe someone like you could step in and fill the voids in her life and in her home. In fact, I think you would be the ideal person to heal her soul, and Natasha’s, too, Claire, and to bring this lovely mother and her sweet daughter into a much closer bond of love, one that would make them so much happier.

“But Traci and I are very close. She’s like a sister to me and right now, with the way things are going for her, I feel that she may be emotionally vulnerable. I wouldn’t ever want to see her hurt or taken advantage of. Do you understand me?”

“Uh…yes…I think so…”

“Good! Then, you have a good time tonight! You know, this could be an ideal opportunity to take the assignment I gave you--you know, to think like a lesbian and to start dating girls--to the next level. By the way, you are doing great!. Ms. Powers has taken a particular interest in you, and both she and I are very pleased with how well you’re coming along so far. But we think you’re ready to take the next step. You might well want to become a lesbian by now…for real, hmm? Looking at girls and thinking about them and what you want to do with them is one thing, but acting on those desires will be a whole different kind of fun, mind-opening experience for you. Now, not only think like a lesbian…but look like one…and act like one!

“We need to work on your looks and your clothes, Claire. Abby gave you a very nice makeover with makeup last night, honey, and that was a great start. Maybe I’ll have Traci take you shopping. I think you’ll look better...so that you can attract more girls...if you opened yourself to some...some sluttiness...in your appearance. You’d like to explore that a little, wouldn’t you my darling daughter?”

“Um...well...actually...I have kind of been thinking about it…”

“Most beautiful girls like you do eventually, Claire. At some point, I’ll bet you’ll want to color your hair, too, sweetheart. My guess is that you’ve been thinking about that, too...right?”

Claire didn’t want to hold back on something like this from her dear mother. “Yes, Mom. How did you know?”

“Just a mother’s intuition, honey. I think you have a wild streak inside you just waiting to burst out...and I can help you, dear………

“So...you definitely want to get some hands-on experience with other women now. This weekend could be the perfect time for it, don’t you think? Oh, I know you’re a straight girl, or you think you are…too bad…but there will be no harm getting a little…physical…with a lovely but lonely mother and daughter. Think of the comfort you could share with them, emotionally and physically. So just have some fun with this, honey… You could even seduce them! And, even better, also make them fall in love with each other!”

Claire was speechless. Could Regina be serious? But then she heard a round of hearty laughter on the other end of the line. “Oh, Claire, ha ha ha… You’re so much fun. You know I’m kidding you, right? But please do have some fun with them. Show Traci and her daughter a good time and don’t forget to be open minded. Let yourself go. Okay?”

Recovering, Claire responded, “Okay. Thanks for the advice, Mom. I’ll try to have an open mind and just see what happens.” In addition to being secretly intrigued with the direction of this conversation, Claire knew she had to play along with Regina anyway, as she certainly didn’t want her to think she wasn’t trying to have a liberal attitude about lesbianism, although, as a straight girl, underneath it all, she didn’t think anything very extreme was going to happen this weekend, despite her strong feeling of attraction to Traci. “But I do really like Traci and I’ll try to be careful with her feelings. Thanks for your support.”

“My pleasure, dear. And if you end up seducing them, that’d be wonderful, too! Ha ha ha.” This time, a smile settled onto Claire’s face. She saw the humor, but she also felt a stirring deep within her about the very possibility painted by Regina that she could have a weekend of sex with Traci and her daughter, and corrupt them both into lesbianism so completely that they would even bed each other. Wow! What a thought! But a very crazy one…Regina’s only kidding…isn’t she?.... Must be… I’m not going there to do that… I wouldn’t know how to do that, anyway… “Now, I’ll let you go so you can get ready for your date. See you soon, sweetheart! And don’t forget me.”

As if I could, Claire mused, both about the impossibility of forgetting a woman as foxy as Regina and about the improbability that she could seduce her hostesses for this weekend, It was wonderful starting the day talking to such a beautiful woman…and…what if I could seduce Traci…and bring her and Natasha together…in love…? Wouldn’t Regina and Ms. Powers be pleased with me! …………… What would it be like………..?

“Okay. Bye, Mom.” Claire found herself even happier than she had been before about seeing Traci today. It seems so long since I saw Traci last time…much too long… Wonder what she will look like… Can’t wait…

Little did Claire, who still thought of herself as basically straight, realize that within the matter of a few minutes of talking with Regina, she had accepted that her weekend outing at Traci’s house was to be a lesbian date, her first one, with all the flavor and at least some of the action of one; that during this weekend she would try to not only just think like a lesbian but try to act like one, too; that they had touched upon Claire dating two other specific women; and that she had agreed in principle with Regina’s suggestion to look a least a little slutty, for the first time in her life.

Continuing on to her bathroom and brushing her teeth, Claire then stripped herself of the bra and panties she wore to bed the previous night. Recalling impressions given her while dreaming over the preceding night, she thought about her mother, whom she saw in her mind as Regina, and the fun, intimate, titillating lessons from her which she thought she now recalled about underwear during her teen years...and the way Mom had let her try on so many of her own items. Regina is such an attentive, detailed, loving mother...a very sexy mother……….or……...wait…….do I mean Mary?… And did that...did that happen?

Claire caught her nude form in the mirror like the day before, distracting her from the questions of who her mother really was and whether there had been erotic underwear lessons with her, and she again found herself enamored with her naked image. She cupped her large, voluptuous mounds in her hands and bounced them up and down, giggling with playful laughter as she did so.

My breasts… I mean my tits… they’re called tits, Claire… my titties feel nice, very nice. They’re so beautiful, Claire thought as she cupped and groped her large knockers and took giddy joy in them. I love playing with my tits.

“Mmmmmmmm ….” Claire purred at the erotic feelings coursing through her body.

Claire felt an all-too-familiar tingle between her legs. She began to move her left hand slowly downwards towards her wet, lustful, pantiless pussy. She was glad there were no barriers to her breasts and pussy right now. She was stark naked, which was perfectly right and normal, when in her bathroom and bedroom and, especially, in her bed, with Jessica, or with any other hot girl. A soft moan came out of her lips as her fingers began a gentle exploration of her intimate area.

Claire, it’s okay to masturbate.

Claire, it’s okay to think about women when you masturbate.

Claire, you should think about women when you masturbate....only women...beautiful women...and girls...sexy girls.

Claire, you think about lesbian sex when you masturbate.

Claire, you like lesbian sex.

Claire, you’ll masturbate thinking about lesbian fantasies whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Claire, you’ll think about the sexy women you know when you masturbate...your hottie roommates, Jessica, Monica, and Meredith...your family, Mary and Wendy...and also Abby, Regina, Traci, and other beautiful women you meet in life. Your cunt drips for a chance at lesbian intimacy with them.

The barrage of subliminal messages pushed Claire toward giving in to the need for sexual relief that came over her. And yet Claire’s reserved persona still tried to fight for some control over herself. Her prudish sensibilities admonished her for wanting to give in to lewd, inappropriate thoughts, especially in an apartment she was sharing with other people, where her tawdry behavior could be seen by them. However, her need for sexual self-gratification finally outweighed her ability to maintain some facade of decorum. The good sense she had struggled to keep to maintain a mask of civility and decency began to crack as the urges for self-gratification became stronger and stronger.

But then, out of the blue, an idea hit Claire. Opening up the shower stall door, Claire stepped in and turned the water on. Claire loved the feel of the massaging spray of warm water as it made contact with her lustful body. Claire was hoping the sounds of the rush of soothing water filling the bathroom would mask any inappropriate sounds she would make there.

After lathering up the wash rag, she began to rub the soft, soapy cloth over the curves of her body, taking extra time to go over her breasts, to heighten the pleasant feeling her mounds were sending through her body.

Soon the washing gave way to sensual groping and playful squeezes, the erotic feelings leading Claire to continue. There was nothing wrong with her actions, she told herself. They were perfect responses to the lust building up in her body, which was normal for every girl as highly strung with natural lust and sexuality as she was, due to her intrinsic passion and beauty.

Eventually, her left hand found the sexually aching spot between her legs. Seeking to appease the carnal lust she was feeling, her hand began a sensual exploration of her horny pussy. A satisfied moan of pleasure came out her lips. Claire shivered as her index finger gently traced the lips of her warm nethers, her legs buckling with delight, her tits firm and pointy as waves of erotic joy pulsed from her groin, up her spine, and into her brain, feeding her the bliss of sexual delight as she probed herself with wanton lust.

As quickly as the pleasure built up, she could also feel it wane just as fast. Claire’s body told her that she needed to do more, that if she wanted to achieve the orgasm she desired, she would have to take it to the next level.

Frustrated, Claire began to furiously explore and rub her pussy with unbridled lust, trying her best to push herself over the edge and cum her brains out. However, it just wasn’t meant to be, or at least with vaginal stimulation alone.

Claire took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She wasn’t going to give up. One way or another she was going to have the orgasm she desired. Claire did her best to clear her mind and focus on what she felt was important.

She was naked. Warm water flowed over her body. She could feel the driblets flow over every nook and cranny of her skin, and she welcomed the sensations, her hand massaging her mounds, her soft, feminine hands caressing and touching her breasts. Something deep in Claire’s mind told her that it was fitting for hands like these, soft and feminine, with pretty painted nails, to touch her like this, and that a woman’s pretty, sensual hands should be the only thing allowed to caress her in this manner and over a private part of her body such as this. Her mind pictured other female hands, with long nails painted in a variety of sensual colors, belonging to various women she knew. all of them vying to touch her bountiful cleavage.

Yyessss…. Claire thought, her altered subconscious mind encouraging her that such sapphic thoughts were perfectly normal to have. To desire a woman’s caress was innocent. Nothing was wrong with wanting to have a woman touch her breasts, to play with them, to even suckle on them. Yes, even to grope and to kiss and to suck on them...nothing wrong with that at all...nothing wrong, and everything right...everything wonderful… Claire leaned her head against the shower wall behind her, eyes closed, as her mind pictured two glossy red lips descending over one of her nipples and enclosing it, a wet feminine tongue licking, and a soft, sweet female mouth sucking… “Mmmmmm…”

Claire then felt another urgent call from her pussy, the need for sexual relief returning between her legs. Her hand returned to playing with her excited love tunnel. As with her breast play, this time she started to add imagined hot girls and scenes of lesbian debauchery to her play, realizing now that that was the ingredient necessary to make her session of self-pleasure into an orgasmic one. A moan rushed out her mouth as her finger began it’s sexual journey into her needy snatch, the act made much hotter than before by combining it with lesbian mental imagery. Claire felt her pussy contract around her exploring digit as it touched and excited the nerves in her warm pussy.

More fantasies of lesbian design began to take shape and form in Claire’s conscious mental landscape. In her mind’s eye she envisioned Monica opening the shower door and getting in the shower with her. The hottie Latina--in whom she had been finding so much sensual interest over the last week and, especially over the last day, as they seemed to have flirted with each other the whole time that they moved into their new apartment, and whom she wanted to date, or, at least, to take out to dinner--bent to her knees and sensually worked her digit into Claire’s needy cunt. The image made Claire throw her head back, close her eyes, and moan in lust and in unwitting desire for the imagined act to happen in real life. Then she imagined Meredith opening the door, too, and joining in the fantasy, the oh-so-cute petite redhead raising her hands to Claire’s chest and playing with her large, wet breasts, the act, given Meredith’s feminine hands, as well as her status as Claire’s secret girlfriend, seeming perfectly natural and wonderful. Claire ran her hands through Meredith’s now-wet red hair, encouraging her, and pulling her face in until her lips touched, kissed, and took in a turgid nipple, the image making Claire gasp with arousal. Then finally Jessica--sweet, sexy Jessica, her foxy mulatto beauty of a friend--joined the orgy by entering the shower with a sultry smile and kneeling behind her. She spread apart Claire’s buttcheeks and worked her long, slick, pointed finger into her needy asshole. “Ahhhhhhh…” the fantasizing Claire cooed.

The last image was particularly moving, Claire found. She had never thought about anal sex, that she knew, and didn’t know why she would fantasize about it now, but, now that she had, it seemed to ring a bell within her. She wanted to pursue it.

Claire was unaware that agents of Hecate were watching the whole masturbation session with rapt attention. To further push her, they had been playing a prescribed track of subliminal messages in the bathroom which entered her mind as assuring whispers bubbling up from her deep subconscious mind, telling her that what she was doing was perfectly normal, and that new sexual pleasures which she would have previously viewed as perverted, anal play in particular, were actually normal and very exciting.

Claire, you are very sexually interested in female asses, including your own.

Claire, you are very curious about anal lesbian sex.

Claire, you want feminine sex up your ass.

Claire, another woman or girl playing with your ass sounds beautiful.

Claire, you’d love to get fucked in the ass by a sexy woman or girl.

Claire, you want to play with your own sexy ass.

Claire you need to play with your sweet ass.

Claire, it’s okay for a woman to try anal masturbation.

Claire, anal masturbation is normal.

Claire, sexy girls like you play with their asses and their anuses.

Claire, whether it’s a finger or a toy, you like to play with your ass, and you want it up your anus.

Claire, a girl’s tongue up your ass would be wonderful.

Claire, sexy women like you enjoy taking it up the ass.

Claire found herself repositioning herself in the shower stall, pressing her large tits against the wall of the shower stall, moving them up and down, relishing in the feeling of something rubbing up against her perky tits. Then she lathered up her left hand with some bodywash, rested her left foot on the built-in shower stool, causing her to spread her legs and open up her intimate area, and reached back with her right hand to pull apart the cheeks of her ass further. Steadying herself against the wall, Claire took a deep breath and then she slid her left index finger across her wet ass until she touched her puckered hole. It was the first time she had ever touched herself there, but, in some way, it seemed she had waited much too long for it and that it was high time to do so. She let out a soft moan as she began a gentle poking and prodding of her anal ring.

Claire, you love sexy anal play.

Claire, you are a sexy lesbian and you want women to play with your ass.

Claire, you want to be fucked in the ass by a woman.

Claire, you want to fuck women you find sexy in the ass.

Claire, you enjoy lesbian anal sex.

Claire, you’d love another woman to lick your anus.

Claire, you’d enjoy fucking another woman’s ass with your tongue.

Claire, you want to fuck Abby, Jessica, Monica, and Meredith in their asses.

Claire, you want to be fucked by Serena Powers and Regina in your ass.

Claire, you want to become Traci’s lover and you’d love Traci to fuck you in the ass.

Claire, you want to fuck your family, your sister, Wendy, and your birth mother, Mary, in their cute, sexy asses.

Claire, there’s no shame in lesbian anal sex.

Claire, there’s nothing wrong with having an orgasm through anal.

Claire, fucking your own ass to an orgasm is the first step to anal sex with other women and girls.

Claire, anal sex, whether by yourself or with other women, is sooooo good.

Enjoying the pleasures her anal ring was sending through her body, and seeking more of the same sensation, or to intensify it, Claire felt her finger enter herself more deeply, penetrating into what she had always believed to be a taboo orifice, making her gasp. Images of different women passed through her mind as she gently worked her soapy finger up her ass. Claire envisioned Mary, Jessica, Monica, Meredith, Abby, and her top crush, Regina. All these beautiful women took turns to work their fingers up her tight asshole. She leaned against the shower wall with her finger up her ass, eyes closed, smiling and panting, pretending those women, one after the other, were doing it to her instead, and utterly enjoying the sensation of what she believed to be her first erotic experience of something going up her butt, unaware that while under Regina’s care she had been anally penetrated multiple times and indoctrinated into not only loving it, but feeling like she needed it, as well. Little did Claire suspect that her mind, even now in the shower, was being further altered to take sexual satisfaction in initiating and participating in lesbian anal sex, as well as in other forms and aspects of sapphic love.

Slowly and gently, Claire built up a pleasurable rhythmic motion of moving her finger in and out of her sex-craved rectum, her legs trembling with delight as wave after wave of pleasurable feelings emanated from her ass.

Confident now that she was proficient enough in anal self-fucking to move her soapy finger in and out of her ass with one hand only, Claire released her hold on the firm globe of her right buttcheek and guided her right hand to her excited womanhood. Another moan came out of her lips as her right index and ring fingers parted her slick labia lips and her middle finger worked itself into the warm, moist, fleshy trench between her legs.

“Yy-yessssss…. Fuck, this feels right …. Oh, fuck me!… “

Claire shuddered as the vulgarity of the words she used fueled the pleasure she felt and enhanced the lust within her body. Her body spasmed in response to her intimate exploration of her body, combined with her use of taboo, degenerate sexual language, creating within her a subconscious desire to not only continue but to also venture more extremely into the same practices in the future.

“O-oohhhhh …. oh… oh…. I can’t believe having something up my ass could feel this good… fuck, yessss….” Claire murmured with closed eyes as the pleasurable feeling between her legs slammed against her body.

In her mind, she envisioned only Mary and Regina in the shower with her now, naked, her sexy, gorgeous roommates having left. She viewed both of these two sexy women who were touching and playing with her nubile, wet body as both enticing women and maternal figures who had taught her so much about life. However, she reflected, recently she had come to see the latter as a superior mother and preferable role model for her, believing that Regina’s worldly experiences and wisdom were better suited to guide her through her college life and develop her into a more well-rounded individual, and the former as a rather morally misguided and somewhat hypocritical but well-intentioned woman, whose example was questionable, but yet one to whom she felt a peculiar, strong attraction, a woman she desired to know more on a different level than before, one that wasn’t defined by family relationships, but maybe on an intimate one...as a woman she should date and maybe even make love to.

Is… is it wrong to think about M...Mary like… that…? Claire wondered, her conservative persona trying to reassert itself by eliciting feelings of shame as she envisioned Mary working her finger wickedly in and out her daughter’s ass and Regina playfully working Claire’s sexually excited pussy.

However, her corrupted subconscious mind intervened by having Claire change her focus to the pleasures that her body was experiencing. Imagining that she was in a lesbian threesome with two very beautiful women she called mother, combined with the persuasive voices in her head, soothed away worry, shame, and frustration. Assurance came to Claire that what she was feeling and envisioning in her mind was more than okay, it was natural and it was beautiful.

Do you like it, our sweet, sexy, slutty daughter? Do you like our fingers going in and out of your fuck holes? asked the mental phantoms of Mary and Regina, as her fantasy had them probe her body and elicit moans of pleasure out of her. In real life, Claire also groaned in response to her fingers moving in and out of her ass and pussy, relishing the pleasurable feelings of touching the forbidden parts of her body.

“Yes, oh Goddess, fuck yes. Please don’t stop.” Claire called out to the mental images of Mary and Regina as she rode the erotic pleasure of double penetrating herself. “Mom...and Mary...fuck my ass and my pussy...ohhhh…” Realizing that she was having a wicked sexual fantasy involving her mother and Regina was enough to push Claire over the edge and give her the delicious release she sought.

“Ahhhhhhhh! F-f-f-f…fuck!!! I’m cumming!” Claire groaned through gritted teeth, trying to stifle the intense sexual rush coursing through her body, her knees shaking, her back arching, her loins spasming, and her rectum clutching, as wave after wave of sexual bliss crashed against her body. In an attempt to prevent herself from screaming out loud more than she had and alerting her roommates to what she was doing, Claire placed her hand over her mouth. She failed to notice that it was the hand that had been pleasuring her love tunnel, coated with her female juices. By placing that hand over her mouth she brought the scent of her female nectar to her nose.

Something deep within her mind told her she enjoyed the aroma of female cum, so she took a good whiff. Indeed, it was a sweet, intoxicating scent. Little did she know that her response had been programmed into her, but she treated herself to a longer, deeper inhalation. It was a lovely experience. A nascent idea began to bubble up from her subconscious mind into her active, conscious one, telling Claire that she would find the taste of a female’s pussy to be very enjoyable, especially hers. She recalled Jessica trying to offer her a taste the day before when they masturbated with each other. Maybe if the opportunity presented itself again, trying a lick or two wouldn’t be so bad. Yet...here was an opportunity...

This idea caused Claire to stick her tongue out and take a tentative lick of her wet hand. Despite her cum being diluted by the shower spray, Claire could still taste the lingering flavor of her own vaginal secretions, and found herself intrigued. It wasn’t nearly as bad as she had thought it was going to be...not bad at all, in fact. She took another lick, the second one confirming the impressions of the first. A few more licks and sniffs later, Claire, her judgement heavily swayed by the secret indoctrination she had received, was finding the taste of female cum outright pleasant. Desiring a more concentrated taste, she reinserted her finger into her pussy, withdrew it, stuck it into her mouth, and sucked on it. Oh, yes! This is so yummy! This discovery and this result of her masturbation filled her with excitement. She knew this would not be the last time she would venture down this road.

A pang of regret entered her mind as she again remembered her freakout when Jessica offered her cum-covered finger for Claire to taste. If she could, she would go back in time and take her foxy friend up on her offer. Claire knew that if Jessica ever made that offer again--and she hoped she would--then she would not pass up such a tasty treat. The thought that it would come directly from her bedmate’s pussy made it all the more exciting.

Claire’s experiences and conclusions this morning--about the virtues of heavy masturbation, especially including her joyous discovery of anal play, about the delightful, orgasmic results of lesbian fantasizing to accompany masturbation, and about the desirablity of female cum--which Claire thought were entirely the products of her own will, desires, and reasoning, would be more bricks in the solid foundation of brainwashing being laid by Hecate Corp., transforming Claire into the avid lesbian they wanted her to be and otherwise into the woman that best suited their needs.

Claire closed her eyes and pictured herself back in the living room with Jessica the previous day, watching lesbian porn--hot lesbian porn with memorably hot porn actresses, she remembered--both of them in their revealing bras and panties. Her mind’s eye especially dwelt on Jessica’s sheer-front panties and the pussy lips revealed through them. She found the thought that she had actually seen that and done that and been like that with her pretty, curvy bedmate, and that Jessica had displayed her pussy to Claire like that, to be thrilling. As she envisioned further, they masturbated together, as before, and Jessica extended her wet finger to Claire. This time, however, Claire impulsively engulfed her companion’s finger in her mouth, licking and sucking every last drop of the tasty female fluid. Emboldened, Jessica slipped her hand into Claire’s panties and touched Claire’s wet pussy, making Claire gasp, scooping up a fingerful of woman juice, then withdrawing it and sucking on it. The two young women then exchanged fingers and mouths, eyeing each other flirtatiously, followed by closing in for their first kiss.

Tasting her cum and recalling the lesbian porn and being semi-naked with Jessica and fantasizing about going further than last time had aroused Claire again, to the point that she unconsciously had started plunging her left index finger, which had not yet left her ass, vigorously in and out of her anus, building her up to another climax, which caught her by surprise. Claire rode out the intense orgasm, enjoying every exquisite convulsion and shiver that it brought. Then, taking a few deep, calming breaths, Claire dislodged her finger that she had lodged in her ass from her tingly puckered orifice. A small gasp rushed out her lips as she felt her rectum empty, with nothing filling that sexually aching void. That was a let down, as if she were a drug addict crashing back to earth as his or her latest fix wears off, and immediately craving another fix, although her ass, pussy, and breasts otherwise simply glowed in the wake of her self-love.

Then the reality of what she had just done confronted Claire. The remaining good-girl part of her mind couldn’t comprehend the actions that occurred in the shower, it had been so unlike her life-long decorous way and so at odds with her refined, wholesome upbringing. She was hit with shame. Her fragile conservative, heterosexual persona could not believe that she had revelled in deviant pleasures of the flesh in defiance of conventional morality, having finger-fucked her ass to orgasm, expressed her passion with vulgar sexual language, and, worse, readily entertained explicit images of her own biological mother, Mary, and new mother-figure, Regina, involved with her in scandalous sexual behavior, not to mention other female acquaintances of hers.

Immediately Claire’s weakened good-girl persona dictated to her to grab the bar of soap and wash her hands, as if she could thereby wash clean the sinful acts in which she had just indulged. As she finished washing her hands and simultaneously swearing off ribald acts like those committed in the shower and just before, a dreaded headache overcame her, forcing her to diametrically reverse her momentary prudish assessment and intentions once again. She wanted no part with the kind of headaches she had been getting from time to time in recent days. By experience she had learned how to avoid them and, once started, how to make them go away. She had come to understand that when she felt conflicted about certain things her head would ache and throb with pain, as if some mysterious mastermind was trying to discourage such thoughts. She also had decided that she would not tolerate those headaches any longer, that she would give in to whatever course got rid of them fast. Taking some deep breaths, after ceasing the scrubbing of her hands and the accompanying good-girl line of thought, Claire leaned back a bit and enjoyed the caressing spray of water and let her mind find the path that made the headache retreat.

What I did is natural. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of women do it. It’s not a sin to masturbate. Like Regi… I mean, like Mother said, it’s a beautiful act that a woman can perform on herself. Mary confessed that she does it, too. A lot. And anal masturbation is awesome. There’s nothing wrong with it. Same goes for fantasizing about women while doing it. It doesn’t hurt anyone, and it adds a lot, actually. So does lesbian porn. So do vulgar words. Claire repeated this mental mantra in her head as she felt the aching pain leave her temples and a felt soothing calm enter her body.

Claire was unaware that her masturbation session in the shower was being observed by Hecate’s agents. They began to play yet another set of subliminals in the bathroom specifically formulated for Claire’s vulnerable mind at this moment.

Claire, it’s okay to masturbate in the shower or anywhere else when the mood hits you.

Claire, you can masturbate many times each day.

Claire, you enjoy masturbation only to fantasies of beautiful women and sexy girls, especially when you picture them committing acts of lesbian sex.

Claire, when you masturbate, you will always do so to thoughts of beautiful women and sexy girls and to lesbian sexual fantasies.

Claire, when you fantasize about women and lesbian sex, you will automatically want to masturbate and have an orgasm.

Claire, you love lesbian porn and can’t resist masturbating to it, because it turns you on so much.

Claire, lesbian porn always makes you want to play with your body and to seek out lesbian sex with another beautful woman or girl.

Claire, you like playing with your ass. Fingers, toys, and another woman’s tongue up your ass are divine.

Claire, anal masturbation is natural.

Claire, Mary masturbates a lot. She likes to play with her ass, like you do.

Claire, there is nothing wrong with having sexual fantasies about the females in your family.

Claire, you want to make love to Mary

Clare, you want to make love to Wendy.

Claire, you want to dominate Wendy.

Claire, while you’re away, Wendy is trying to keep Mary to herself.

Claire, Wendy is not your sister, she’s your rival.

Claire, you need to punish Wendy.

Claire, you need to fuck Wendy and make her your bitch.

Claire, Wendy wants you to dominate her.

Claire, Wendy wants her big sister to control her life, especially her sex life.

Claire, Wendy wants to become your lesbian lover.

Claire, Wendy wants to have lesbian sex with her older sister.

Claire, show that you are the better sister by showing off your beauty.

Claire, you want to be beautiful and sexy, and to show yourself off.

Claire, it’s okay to be vain. You are a superior, sexy woman. You like being vain, and you deserve to be. There’s nothing wrong with looking your best for a woman, and being proud of it, and displaying yourself.

Claire, it’s fine to judge a woman by her looks. The more beautiful she looks, the more interested you are in her and the more you want to get to know her.

Claire, being superficial is okay. You don’t care about inner beauty. A woman’s personality is insignificant compared to her looks. Only exterior beauty and sex appeal are important.

Claire, your beauty is the only thing that matters. All you care about is looking beautiful and being absolutely sexy all of the time, and to become more so every day.

Claire, you need to encourage your friends to be sexy.

Claire, set the example of sexiness and sluttiness for them.


Claire, you need to force your friends to be slutty.

Claire, you’ll only like your friends and care for them if they are slutty, if they look sexy, and if they are wanton lebians.

Claire, you want your roommates to be sexy lesbian sluts.

Claire, you want to dominate your roommates.

Claire, you need to show your roommates that you’re in charge.

Claire, use your body and your beauty to make your friends lust for you and to establish your dominance over them.

Claire, use your body for pleasure.

Claire, use your body for lesbian sex.

The subliminals looped for a while. When the Hecate staff noticed Claire was entranced, with her eyes closed and her body motionless, they shut the program down. Claire regained her senses and, feeling that the relaxing shower and her masturbation session was what had caused her to lose track of herself, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower stall. She again took notice of her nude form in the bathroom mirrors, playfully shaking her upper body back and forth, smiling at the way her large breasts swayed and jiggled in the mirror.

Oh yeah, look at those tits shake. So big, so firm. Too bad no one else--and she meant “no other woman”--is here to watch. I definitely struck it big in the tits department. Thanks, Mary, Claire thought to herself, sending mental thanks to her biological mother for passing along her genes in the well-endowed cleavage department. Someday I’ll have to see yours...like this...exposed...to me… I wonder if I’ll ever get to feel them, too...

As she thought it over, flashes passed into her mind of her and Mary together naked, their bras and panties strewn over the floor, pressing their exquisite bosoms together in a lustful embrace. Her body and mind reacted as Hecate intended, her nipples tingling and her imagination conjuring up more wicked fantasies about her own mother. They kissed. They felt each other up.

Imagining herself still in her mother’s arms, she saw herself turning her head to the side, there seeing her younger sister, Wendy, also naked. She pictured her body, developing beautifully as it matured from the form of a child into that belonging to a young woman. Claire unknowingly licked her lips and felt her pulse rate increase as she envisioned Wendy’s youthful body, Claire’s imagination drawing in the details of the teen’s nipples, pubic hair, and virginal slit.

However, Claire’s mood shifted as she saw Wendy’s image joining in on the embrace between her and Mary...at length coming between her and Mary. First, Wendy kissed Claire, on the lips, in a much more than sisterly manner, which Claire enjoyed very much. But then Wendy turned her attention to Mary and kissed her. Their mouths joined for much longer than the kiss between the two sisters had lasted, and involved their hands roaming all over each other. Claire ended up being gradually pushed out of the way, and then standing off to the side, an ignored observer, who then vanished, landing back across the country in her luxury student apartment.

Claire hadn’t given much thought about Wendy in the past few days, she thought. Then again, why should she? After all, as far as she was concerned, Wendy’s trivial affairs were beneath her, not warranting any particular attention from her. And conversely, it wasn’t like she was obligated to divulge everything that goes on in her life to Wendy, either. But now that this sexy little tart was intruding on her space, in her mind, the mental images of her sister, though sexy, stirred up jealousy in Claire, an emotion she would not normally associate with her sister, yet, due to Hecate’s mental manipulations, she felt it now and thought she was justified in possessing that vice. Not only was Wendy putting the moves on Mom, if Claire’s new imagined suspicion was true, but, Claire realized, without Claire present, Wendy was free to monopolize Mary’s time unimpeded and free to try to usurp Claire’s spot in Mary’s heart. Anger and frustration arose within Claire, unreasonable and unwarranted as they might be, as she imagined Wendy whiling away the time with Mary with one romantic flirtation and one sexual advance after another.

As Claire let the frustration grow within her, a new set of images entered her mind. She was dressed in a piece of white-lace, deep V-neck babydoll lingerie that did a marvelous job of showing off her breasts. Her raven hair was done in a braided updo style, blonde streaks interwoven through her braids, Her luscious lips and nails were painted a bright emerald green, water-blue eyeshadow covered her eyelids, and her eyelashes were thick with jet-black mascara. Wendy was wearing a crimson-red bellziva lace teddy. It did a great job of showing off her developing feminine charms. Wendy herself had her blonde hair in loose curls that went over shoulders, lips and nails colored a bright fire engine red, with rose-colored eyeshadow and black mascara applied to her eyelashes. Claire liked the way her sister looked. But maybe she’s too hot for her own good, the little slut.

The mental image had Wendy bent over Claire’s lap, with Claire coping a feel of her younger sister’s thong-panty-covered rear. Claire let out a soft moan as she envisioned herself squeezing and groping her sister’s delicious ass Claire could tell that Wendy was afraid of her and apprehensive about the situation they were in. The way Wendy was shivering as she lay over Claire’s lap was a joyous feeling for the older sister. She found herself drunk on the euphoric feeling of witnessing her sister cower underneath her toying hand and to see the teen arrayed so vulnerably on her lap.

“So, Wendy, what do you think of your big sis now? You like?

“Claire, what’s going on? This… this isn’t you!”

“You’d be surprised at how much a person can change, Sis.” With that said, Claire grabbed hold of the thin thong panties covering Wendy’s ass and forcibly ripped them off, the sound of ripping cloth echoing in the mental landscape. Claire eyed the girl’s naked ass crack and her partially visible vulva with pleasure and greed.

Sliding two fingers from each hand into the crevice of Wendy’s ass, Claire gently pulled apart the globes of her sister’s butt, to which the teen responded by lifting her derriere up, exposing her womanhood for her big sis to see better...and what a sight it was. Claire noticed that it was wet and glistening, presumably with need and lust...lust for her sister. She smirked as she shifted her thumb to hold Wendy’s ass cheek in place and gently traced Wendy’s labia with her her index finger, making the girl gasp with incestuous pleasure. Claire then drew her finger away, touched it tip-to-tip with her thumb, and then separated the digits. Claire, fascinated with the female honey, watched as a string of it connected the two digits together.

“I see that you’re excited, Wendy. Are you excited about me, sweetie?” Wendy did not reply as both young women knew the answer to that question, the red-faced Wendy’s wetness being the obvious proof. “Does Wendy want her big sis to touch and play with her horny pussy?”

“Claire… this isn’t like you. Please...don’t…” Wendy pleaded with Claire. There was no mistaking the fear in her voice.

Slowly a sadistic gleeful smile appeared on Claire’s face as she raised her hand up and then swiftly and forcibly brought it down on Wendy’s rear. *Smack!* A sense of gratification welled inside Claire as the slap sound echoed in her mind. She loved the sight of Wendy’s beautiful ass jiggling upon impact and the shocked gasp which emanated from Wendy’s mouth.

“Sis, I think you need a firm reminder of who’s in charge here. Looks like while I was away, you thought you could have Mom all to yourself. I don’t think so, Wendy. Mary is mine! You hear me? You best learn to step off. She’s my woman! Bitch!”

The mental dialogue Claire was having with her sister was far away from what she would normally have with Wendy. Claire was amazed that she was entertaining such a fantasy. She loved her sister, and yet in her mind the rush of power she was feeling was overriding any sense of sisterly compassion she might otherwise have for Wendy’s situation. The feeling of dominating another female, especially with intimidation and force, and especially her own sister, was heady, something that Claire was finding she could definitely appreciate and enjoy. She could even see herself getting addicted to it. She began to entertain the idea of doing something similar with Mary.

Encouraged by the first smack, Claire rained down another blow, harder than the first, then one smack after another, until she built into a steady rhythm of spanking Wendy’s now-pink ass. Claire felt a stirring rush as each blow on Wendy’s rear made her giddy with sadistic joy. Claire ignored her sister’s cries for mercy, taking wicked delight in the sight of Wendy bent over her lap, in hearing Wendy bawling in pain, in watching the ass-flesh turn into a deep, hot-pink color, and in witnessing humiliation overtake Wendy.

“Now who does Mary belong to?” demanded Claire.

“S-she b-belongs t-to you…Sis,” Wendy anxiously sobbed in response.

“Correct, and you need to learn that she’s off limits when I’m away!” shouted Claire as she took a good, firm grip of Wendy’s inflamed buttocks, making her little sister flinch. “Understand? Whore!” Then, Claire slid her right hand over Wendy’s ass, relishing the warmth that was emanating from each of Wendy’s dark-pink, spank-tanned cheeks and the smoothness of the young skin, despite the beating it had taken. As she then groped her sister’s luscious rear a little more roughly, Claire took notice of Wendy moaning and squirming under her. She plays just like a fiddle.

“So did my little sister enjoy the spanking she got?” Claire asked in a snide tone as she gave Wendy another smack across her ass, causing her to let out a sharp yelp. “Did it make you all hot and bothered, knowing it was your big sister spanking and touching this sexy, naughty ass?”

Wendy turned her head toward Claire sufficient to let her see Wendy’s face. Tears were streaming her cheeks, ruining her makeup, which, for a second, seemed to an unsympathetic Claire, one indoctrinated to value beauty to be a female’s most important, most defining quality, to be the greatest tragedy of this scene. She looked so cute a few minutes ago. Why did she have to waste that great makeup? I should lay into her again...

“It’s okay, Claire. If my big sister says that I’ve been naughty and wants to spank my ass, then I guess I get my ass spanked,” Wendy whimpered tearfully.

But then Claire looked more carefully at the expression on Wendy’s face, and it shocked her. It wasn’t the happy-go-lucky face of the teen girl she remembered, a girl who was eager to greet the day, but rather that of a sniffling, bleary-eyed, beaten down, agony-laden, pitiable young wretch.

The sight was enough to jolt Claire out of her power trip sexual fantasy and it registered on her that she was back in her dorm room apartment. Looking in the mirror in front of her, her towel on the floor, Claire realized she had her right hand on her right breast and her left between her legs, masturbating to thoughts of cruelly disciplining her beloved sister. The young woman in the mirror had an expression on her face which mixed smug gratification with shock.

Her mind suddenly reeled with the realization of how depraved her imagination had been just now and how it had deviated from her core personality, as she supposed. The fantasy snuffed out of her mind like a distant memory. However, Claire’s resistance to a wanton mindset gave her a headache, as it seemed to always do these days, for some reason mysterious to her. Claire clutched her head in agony, unable to recall what had unsettled her so badly, but she had the impression that it had something to do with her sister, a sister whom she loved and cared for very much, but who might have been, in her imagination, abused in some way that had to do with Claire. “Wendy… I’m...I’m so sorry…if I did anything to hurt you… I promise you...from now on...I will never hurt you. I love you, little sister…”

Unnoticed by Claire were cameras and microphones which captured all of her acts of sexual self-pleasure and her musings, which she had believed to be quite private. Through them, a team of Hecate agents had observed Claire’s little mental breakdown.

“Looks like our sweet darlin’ Claire is still puttin’ up ah good bit of resistance, isn’t she girls?” There was no mistaking the familiar southern twang in the voice from which the observation came.

Dr. Monaghan had watched the whole of Claire’s performance this morning on their monitors and she was vexed at Claire’s continued resistance to her attempts to turn Claire into a lesbian who saw her own younger sister as a viable sexual partner. She knew she should have been happy with the remarkable strides they had made in transforming Claire and her roommates so far, and she truly had enjoyed seeing them change and knowing she was a key player in that, but Monaghan was a perfectionist, and this one, stubborn aspect of Miss Love-Livingston was driving her crazy. Goddess pressing her about it didn’t help.

“Uh…. if you want, Doctor, I can boost the subliminal strength,” offered the cute tech Maggie, trying to be careful to not be on the receiving end of Dr. Monaghan’s displeasure.

“No, unfortunately that’s not goin’ to do us any good,” Monaghan countered in aggravation, making Maggie regret she had suggested anything. “About as good as havin’ ah drunk quit drinkin’ by forcing more alcohol down his throat. This girl cares too much for her sister and those feelings are ah bit of ah thorn in our side.”

Monaghan was frustrated--and she was not used to the sensation, as she always got what she wanted, at least in the end--and everyone in the command center could sense it. She had a schedule to abide by and she had given Goddess assurances that Claire Love-Livingstone would start seeing her own sister as a sexual love interest, sooner rather than later.

Trying to buoy herself up, Monaghan reflected on how well most everything else was going. Claire wants to fuck her mother, check, fuck her roommates, check, fuck Abby, check, fuck Tracy, check...fuck Regina...check... Humpf...Regina...bleh… The girl could do so much better… But wanting to fuck her own sister...her adorable little sister...zilch, nada, bupkis. There has to be something I’m missing.

Monaghan had thought that instigating a rivalry between the two sisters over Mary would be a surefire winner, but Claire’s mind had proven resistant to that particular manipulation. There had to be a key element, some insidious tactic, that she had overlooked that could turn Claire’s sisterly affections for Wendy into lust and desire.

“Too bad we can’t just go back in time and set it up so she started to desire her younger sister at a young age,” commented Maggie, risking another put-down.

“What was that?!” Monaghan exclaimed as she immediately turned to face Maggie.

Maggie gulped hard as the look Dr. Monaghan was giving her was very unsettling. It was crazed and untamed, with a cheshire cat grin that sent a nervous chill up her spine.

“I-I s-said that if we could, you know, maybe… you know we could… I don’t know… go back in time and teach her younger self that sisterly love is a form of sexual attraction, then maybe Claire could start seeing her sister as a lover.”

What happened next took everyone in the command center by surprise, as Dr. Monaghan reached over, grabbed Maggie by her collar, forcibly drew her close, and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her lips, quickly supplemented by slipping her tongue unto the young woman’s mouth. Several seconds later the good doctor disengaged her mouth from her attendant’s, Monaghan looking the lovely tech squarely in the eyes at close range with obvious mirth, a string of lipstick-colored saliva connecting their lips for a few moments before the doctor stood up.

“Maggie, you’re a goddamn genius!” shouted the doctor with joyful exuberance. Bending down again and placing a manicured hand on Maggie’s shoulder, she whispered into her ear, “See me tonight...about ten. I’ll share some of my genius with you, sweetheart.” She kissed the tech on her cheek.

With a look of utter confusion on her face, Maggie just stared at her superior, trying to steel herself for whatever the mercurial doctor’s next reaction might be. She flinched when Monaghan jumped up and grabbed a few things off one of the desks and rushed out the door, but not before shouting, “I have ah few calls to make. If anyone asks for me, tell them I’m busy! By the way...don’t do any more of that I’m-going-to-dominate-and-compete-ruthlessly-with-my-sister routine on Claire’s head… We’re going to take a different tack… Ease her out of that headache, too. But you can wait a few minutes. That little bitch deserves some pain, like she’s caused me! Bye!”

Everyone just sat in dumbfounded silence. The doctor was known to have her moods now and then, but what they saw stunned them, as she had never been known to fly off the handle with exasperation one second and then express jubilant emotion the next, like she had just done. Everyone turned to each other, shrugged, and felt that it was best to ignore what had just happened and to just continue to monitor the situation with Claire and her roommates and react accordingly, as usual.

Meanwhile…

Back at Claire’s dorm room apartment, Claire was clutching her head, taking deep breaths to abate the searing pain lancing through her skull. Propping herself against the sink, Claire took another deep, calming breath, and stared back at her reflection. Turning on the sink and splashing some cool, refreshing water on her face, she tried to regain some control over her thoughts and to calm herself.

All those horrible thoughts about Wendy… Why would I have them?… I-I care for her… I would never want for...for those kinds of…things...to happen to her… She’s my sister...

Taking another deep breath, Claire steadied herself to try to get ready for the day. She rummaged through the medicine cabinet and took out an aspirin bottle, opened it, and popped one of the pills into her mouth. She walked out to the bedroom and stood in front of the dresser. Going through her drawer of bras and panties, Claire set her eyes on a conservative-looking mint green matching set and put it on.

Claire, you feel comfortable walking around in just bras and panties.

Claire, you want to show your sexy body off.

Claire, you think walking around naked would be the truest form of comfort.

Claire, you would rather be naked.

Claire modeled herself in front of the mirror. Again cupping her large breasts in her hands, enjoying the feeling of her tits in her hands and their creamy, bulging appearance, she marveled how good she looked in her state of semi-undress and how luscious she felt so attired. If she couldn’t be nude, then this was a close second-best. But she would rather be nude.

Her headache started subsiding noticeably.

Claire, still standing at the large dresser, looked through her options of casual clothes to wear over her bra and panties for her visit--or date--with Traci and her daughter. However, something struck her mind that tees and shorts would not be the appropriate thing to wear. She needed something...sexier. She needed everything sexier. She decided to start over, and removed the bra and panties she had just put on. It felt so good, so right to be naked again. She couldn’t resist checking her body out again in the mirror. Mmmmmm...so hot...

Claire, you find it easy to take off your clothes to display your body to women.

Claire, if you wear a bra and panties, they must be sexy.

Claire, never wear a bra and panties unless they are very sexy--skimpy, transparent, revealing, silky, inviting.

Claire, girls who wear just bras and panties with each other feel like kissing and touching and hugging and rubbing their almost-naked, curvy bodies into one another.

Claire, wearing a bra and panties is very optional. You love parading around in them, although you prefer total nudity.

Claire, you don’t need to wear a bra all the time under your clothes.

Claire, a braless look is very exciting and you want to try it. It could become your signature look.

Claire, you don’t need to wear panties all the time, either.

Claire, female nudity is wonderful.

Claire, you want your roommates to see your tits, ass, and juicy, horny pussy.

Claire, you want to see your roommates naked, and see their tits, asses, and pussies also.

Claire, you feel so comfortable naked.

Claire, you and your roommates will feel so very comfortable and excited when you are together wearing only panties and bras, and showing off your sexy bodies to each other.

Claire, you all would feel so much more comfortable and excited together if you were all naked. That’s what you want most.

Claire, naked girls love to touch each other, to caress each other’s bodies, and to kiss each other.

Claire, naked girls have exciting lesbian sex with each other.

Claire, you love showing off your sexy body to women.

Claire closed her eyes, running her hands over her body yet again, while the subliminals entranced her. She thought about her roommates and about Traci. She wondered what would happen if she proposed to her roommates that they just discard all of their clothes, underwear included, while they were in the apartment. She pictured that possibility in her head, loving it, as her roommates rapidly became much more touchy-feely with each other. She pictured them all taking turns kissing each other like lovers. She thought ahead to her date with Traci, and wondered what Traci and her daughter wore--or didn’t wear--at home. She imagined them going naked, as well, delighted.

The subliminal audio looped for a few minutes and quietly faded away as Claire regained her focus. She felt very relaxed being naked in her bedroom, showing off her body, her sexy body. Claire rummaged through one of the dresser drawers and this time pulled out a racier emerald green bra and panty set, an item that had been planted by Hecate’s agents, but something that Claire, due to subconscious programming, had overlooked when she moved in. As a matter of fact, there were many other “gifts” that had been planted in the dorm apartment, overlooked by Claire and her roommates so far, to be discovered when the time was right.

Thinking back, Claire “remembered” that this had been a bold purchase she had made a while back out of a desire to show off her independence...and the sexiness of her body. Claire felt this set did a better job of displaying her beautiful body than the plain, full-cut, cotton mint-green set she had tried on before, and slipped them on. The balconette style provided cups so low-cut as to show off plenty of her creamy cleavage bulging over the cups and to almost reveal the tops of her areolae, while the panties were a tanga cut (between bikini and thong in degree of exposure), all in thin, shiny, semi-sheer emerald-green satin.

Just being in her bra and panties--especially these provocative, slinky ones--and nothing else, felt like second nature to her. Claire relished how the air kissed her exposed skin, the way her large voluptuous breasts strained against the cups of the green bra and the way the green panties did a marvelous job of showing off the succulent globes of her ass and the curves of her hips.

Claire went over to the dark oak vanity that became hers when she and Jessica moved into their new apartment. On it was the drawstring bag that she had received from Regina during her visit with Abby the previous night. Dumping its contents on the vanity, Claire looked over the cosmetic samples that Regina had given her--three tubes of lipstick in rose red, bright emerald green, and royal purple, along with bottles of nail polish that matched the colors of the provided lipsticks, some mascara, eyeliner, sapphire blue and sea green eyeshadow, some bottles of perfume, and one container of cherry blossom blush.

Claire’s decision to apply makeup had already been made before she opened the bag. Her feelings about makeup seemed to have changed dramatically in the matter of a few days. She didn’t know why, other than that she was maturing now, and also that, having spent some time now with a glamorous woman like Regina, whose use of makeup was exemplary and dramatic, she aspired to a similar level of beauty. Abby having made a piece of art out of her face with makeup the previous evening was perhaps the final act needed to blow away her previous devotion to a natural look. In any case, this morning she felt that she needed makeup, not only for her date with Traci, but even just for hanging out with her roommates in the apartment. The only real choice to make now was what colors she wanted.

She loved all three colors Regina had given her, but, Claire favored the green one the most. Perhaps it was because green was her favorite color, a color she associated with peace, serenity, good health and vitality. Or maybe it was because the color triggered the naughty memory of the high heels she had “borrowed” from Monica the day before. Perhaps it was because green would be an unusual, daring color for most any girl to wear as a lipstick, and Claire was feeling adventurous, maybe even recklessly so. Perhaps it was because she knew it would be a powerful color, being extremely attention-getting, if not seductive. Or perhaps it was because it would be the same color as her new bra and panties, and that once she put on clothes over them, she would be the only one to know about that naughty connection...unless she, for some reason, removed her clothes... In any case, it was the tube of emerald green lipstick she picked up.

Claire took a sudden joyful delight in looking in the vanity’s mirror and applying a coat on her luscious lips. She found herself applying more, until her lips glistened with four luscious coats of the tantalizing, deeply-colored lipstick, the process giving her an inexplicable thrill. She then, one by one, picked up the mascara, the blue eyeshadow, and the eyeliner, looking at herself in the mirror and applying them to her face. Each succeeding item and application seemed to be a joyous discovery. She relished the experience of putting on cosmetics, and she loved the exotic transformation of her face as she painted it, casting aside the antiquated beliefs of her birth mother that got her nowhere, and savoring the knowledge that she had three very sexy roommates in the commons area of the dorm apartment waiting for her…and they would be seeing her like this...

As Claire stepped out into the spacious living room area, she was taken aback by the gorgeous sight that greeted her. Sitting on the stools at the bar counter leading to the kitchen, were Monica and Meredith, wearing nothing but bras and panties. Claire had a great view of their firm, delectable asses on the seat of the stools. Then there was Jessica, as well, who was standing opposite them at the bar in the kitchen. Claire could tell that Jessica was in a state of attire similar to Meredith and Monica, except that she also had on a simple white, lace-trimmed apron that teased a view of the attractive curves of her body, as well as making the impression pass through Claire of what a darling, sexy housewife she would make.

It appeared that Jessica was serving breakfast. Claire noticed her beautiful friend place a plate stacked with pancakes in front of Monica. Jessica immediately took notice of her hottie roommate walking into the communal area of the dorm apartment, her eyes and mouth flying open with an obvious, girlish glee which would have been uncharacteristic of her but a few days before. She’s wearing green lipstick! Wow! She’s so beautiful! And that bra! And her panties! Whew! What a body! What a babe! And I get to sleep with her!

Because Jessica was facing the hallway from which Claire had entered the kitchen area, she had been the first to notice Claire’s drastic change in appearance. Meredith and Monica had joined her with stunned looks on their faces when they had looked at their black-haired friend entering the area, as well. It was as if a beautiful stranger had walked in. None of them could hardly believe that the gorgeous woman standing before them was Miss All Natural Beauty. It was as if Claire had transformed into a sexual goddess by putting some bold cosmetics on and coming out clad only in a revealing, inviting bra and matching panties.

“Hey there, Clairebear! Come on and grab a seat. Making some pancakes!” Jessica almost squealed with giddy excitement as she gestured to her secret crush to an open seat at the bar. Claire noticed and enjoyed the new girliness of her bedmate’s demeanor.

Meredith and Monica turned and meekly greeted Claire, and could only muster polite smiles and friendly waves, then, when they drank Claire in, with mouths agape, eyes big, and pulses accelerating, their internal reactions not far from Jessica’s. Claire did not sit down, instead stopping in front of Monica. She and Claire were the first to look into each other’s eyes, to smile at each other individually, and to check each other out more closely. Immediately, Monica went unconsciously into flirtation mode, as did Claire, both thrusting their chests out a little more, tilting their heads a bit, and toying with their black hair.

“Hi, Monica.” There was a certain coquettish tone to Claire’s voice.

“Morning, Claire. You’re looking really good…”

“Thank you.” Claire brushed Monica’s smooth, bare arm with her dark-violet-painted fingernails, the color a remnant of her session as a cosmetics model for Abby the previous evening. “That’s sweet of you.” Claire’s eyes dropped to her Latina roommate’s large breasts,and Monica did the same to Claire. “You, too.” The sparks passing between the two were almost enough to start a fire.

The sight of Monica clad only in a bra and panties reminded Claire of her previous desire to see Monica completely naked. Wow. What a sight that would be! But...she’s not far from it right now...and she looks amazing… A sweet voice passed through Claire’s mind, dropping a “truth” as it did so. Girls should date girls... Claire and Monica should date like lesbian girlfriends…

Claire responded in her conscious mind to the suggestion. I want to take her out sometime...like to dinner...to show my appreciation for loaning me her suit………….. I...I wonder what it would be like to sleep with her… She’s so beautiful… She was my first choice for a roommate………. I wonder what they wore to bed…….. I wonder if they...did...anything…in bed………

Curiosity about Monica, Meredith, and their nocturnal experience started to pique Claire. One little open-ended vague question wouldn’t hurt…. “How did you...or, uh, you two...sleep last night?” There was a little mischief implied in Claire’s tone.

“Oh, it was great.” Monica realized the enthusiasm in her voice might reveal more about what happened in their bed than she wanted to. “Uh...I mean...these beds are really supportive and soft...aren’t they?”

“Oh, yeah. Very comfortable. I dreamt and dreamt, I think, although I don’t remember much. Did you have any dreams?”

“Yes...me, too… I think I had some really cool dreams…like, I was a Greek goddess or something...but I also had a nightmare. Fortunately, my friend Meredith,” she looked over fondly at her redhaired bedmate, “was there to...uh…”

“...comfort her,” asserted Meredith, Claire’s eyes following Monica’s toward the cute, petite redhead.

“That was really nice of you, Meredith,” complimented Claire, who, her gaze being captured by a sexy new beauty she had not ever seen exhibited by her redheaded friend, not quite like this, now turned all of her focus onto Meredith.

“My pleasure.”

While Monica and Claire had been flirtatiously preoccupied with each other and Jessica had been busy making more pancakes, Meredith had been openly ogling Claire. In the past, a situation like this would only have made Meredith feel woefully inferior physically, and she would have wanted to escape it. She would have felt intimidated by Claire’s bountiful bosom. But, her mind having been tampered with by Hecate, her outlook was very different now. She now found herself attracted to and fascinated with female breasts, and Claire’s were no exception, nor were her own. She saw her own breasts as being worthy enough, small but beautiful, two thrilling little mounds capable of catching the eyes and interest of other women. As for Claire, Meredith seeing her natural endowments encased in the bra she was wearing, straining for release, she recognized them not as intimidating features that reminded Meredith of her own inadequacies, but rather as gorgeous treasures that should be desired and worshiped. Meredith felt enamored with Claire.

Being surrounded by the tantalizing breasts of her roommates placed her in a very pleasant mood. However, Meredith held her legs together, a bit ashamed of the wet spot on the groin area of her pink panties, a clear indication of the arousal she felt between her legs. She did her best to hide it, not wanting her friends to take notice of the wet spot and to think of her as a sexual deviant. Meredith continued her lustful stares at the collection of bountiful mammaries that were in her presence. However, her attention was broken when Claire squarely faced her.

Claire walked up to her auburn-haired friend, admiring the view of her petite form in a matching set composed of pink satin panties and bra, outlined with cute white frills. She reached out and played with the curls in Meredith’s hair, enjoying their bright color and soft silkiness. Oh how Claire wanted to go further, to run her hands over the smooth curves of her geekish roommate’s body. Meredith gulped as Claire stood staring at her like a lioness eyeing a defenceless gazelle.

Claire also took notice that Meredith looked a little different today, and then it clicked when she recognized that Meredith was wearing cosmetics this morning, a break, a most pleasing break, from her typical minimal nerdish style. She took arousing notice of the lips painted with dark maroon lipstick, eyelashes layered with bold mascara, and eyelids coated with a blue eyeshadow and accented by dark eyeliner. Wow… She’s super cute... Then taking a step back Claire noticed that all her roommates' faces were adorned with cosmetics. She marveled at how pretty it made them, bringing their underlying beauty out, including Jessica, at whom she smiled and waved her fingers in a friendly gesture.

“Morning everyone,” Claire geeted again in her typical cheerful manner. “It’s so nice to see everyone together. Isn’t it great...to be together...like this?” Implied in her comment was that it was great to be together with no one in anything more than her bra and panties, and everyone made up--like so many lingerie or even porn models waiting for a photoshoot, or call girls ready for a scandalous party, or strippers ready to perform--and all understood her words to mean that. The girls all murmured genuinely in agreement, given the changes to their minds

Jessica, Meredith, Monica, and Claire did indeed find themselves enjoying each other's company more than they normally would, their semi-clothed state being understood by each as the chief factor in their enjoyment, with each girl not feeling concerned about how much of her body was exposed to each other, each girl finding the idea of being in a semi-undressed state exhilarating, and each entertaining the idea of maybe going all the way and removing the last remnants of clothing away from her body. Each one felt deep down that the one big improvement they could make to their situation would be to be totally nude with each other, although at this point it was more a buried feeling than a crystalized, open thought.

“Meredith, it’s a very nice day, don’t you think?” Claire inquired in a jolly tune, while rather obviously running her eyes over the petite girl’s body. It reminded Meredith of taking a shower the day before with Claire in the bathroom and the black-haired coed eyeing her up through the shower stall glass. As then, the fact that her body, face, and hair were able to attract another girl was a secret thrill, making her proud and more confident in her allure, making her feel that her body and beauty was equal to that of the other young women with her--if not superior, it struck her, for she was the one Claire was interested in at the moment, seemingly more than the other two, and she had captured Claire’s interest away from none other than the beautiful Monica--and making her want to show her charms off even more. Still, she was not yet quite accustomed to being the focus of another girl’s attention like this, which made her a little uncomfortable, too, in addition to the feelings of elation.

The redhead looked out of one of the apartment’s big windows, assaying the sunshine and the clear, blue skies, although she had the feeling that Claire was referring to more than just the weather, maybe also having in mind the prospects for some fun social interactions the day well could bring. “Yeah… it is a great day,” Meredith responded nervously as Claire kept staring at her. For a moment she thought she saw Claire lick her lips at her, which she, however, brushed off because, she told herself, the Claire she knew wouldn’t make such a gesture, at least not with a sexual connotation. Deep in her mind, though, she knew she would definitely be receptive if she believed her hot roommate was signalling romantic or sexual desire to her.

Claire’s staring at me … I wonder what she’s staring at that she finds so interesting. Her question was at least partially answered within the next second, when she saw the gaze of her black-haired roommate drop to her breasts, dwell on them, descend lower to her panties, and then rise back up and settle on her lips, making her happy she had worn this scanty, shiny underwear set and the lovely dark maroon lipstick, so unlike what she normally would do, to join her roommates this morning.

While Meredith found herself enjoying the attention that Claire was giving her, she was taken aback some by the way Claire was staring at her intensely. It was a hungry look, something a lioness would give an antelope before tearing it apart. On one hand, that kind of look, coming from Claire to her, was rather new--she had only seen a similar look on her face that morning in their old apartment when they had cuddled in their underwear--and, thus, unsettling; yet, she liked it, too, nevertheless. It confirmed to her that Claire was attracted to her, that she was desirable and appealing, and that she had been mistaken in thinking otherwise in the past.

The idea that Claire, a woman she had grown to admire as a role model during her stay at Preston was showing some kind of extra interest, more than what she normally spent on her, sent a pleasurable feeling between Meredith’s loin, further amping up the pulses of pleasure in her body and making her groin wetter than before.

Then Meredith remembered the pact she and Claire had made, the stipulated reason being to help Meredith build a better relationship with Monica. She and Claire had agreed to pretend to be girlfriends--secret, dating, lesbian girlfriends--and to let glimpses of their supposed mutual sapphic love flash out in the open now and then. The plan was to stir jealousy within Monica, to make her regret how she had always treated Meredith, and to bring them into a reconciled, agreeable, friendly relationship. If stirring up sexual and romantic attraction was necessary for this relationship to bloom, so be it. Now supposing that what Claire was doing was probably part of their ploy--and she was partly correct, although Claire’s carnal interest in her was genuine and went beyond their conspiracy, and she would still have ogled Meredith without their pact--Meredith quietly cleared her throat, gently brushed her hair out of her eyes with her hand, and responded back by giving Claire a receptive, flirty smile.

Claire looked at Monica and saw jealousy written across her face and the Latina’s arm moving uncertainly, as if she were ready to reach out and draw the cute red-head in, to assert that Meredith belonged to her and her alone, that she didn’t want to share her with Claire. On the other hand, Monica was holding back, unsure whether her actions would be appropriate or accepted by her red-headed friend. Believing she was reading Monica’s face and body language accurately, which she was, Claire was encouraged, and smiled within herself.

Meredith felt someone had to break the slightly awkward silence, plus she was curious as to what Claire wanted to do next. “Hey, Claire…uh… something I can help you with?” Meredith inquired as she looked up at Claire. Her eyes locked on the raven-haired co-ed’s luscious mounds straining for release from the shiny, emerald-green confines of the skimpy bra Claire had chosen to wear. They had a soothing effect on Meredith, although she still couldn’t help but be keenly aware and a little anxious about Claire’s continuing predatory gaze.

“Just wanted to say ‘hi’ and to catch up.” After saying this Claire diverted her attention towards Monica. “Hey Monica, you don’t mind if I borrow Meredith for a quick moment do you?” Claire’s tone seemed to imply that she really didn’t care whether Monica objected and, without waiting for Monica’s response, Claire took hold of Meredith’s wrist and dragged her away from the group. Monica and Jessica, who had turned her attention from making pancakes to her two departing roommates, stared in confusion at Claire’s behavior.

Guiding Meredith down the main hallway towards a corner near the apartment’s entrance, a spot where Jessica and Monica could see what was going on but not hear the conversation, Claire pressed Meredith into the corner, trapping her. Leaning closer, Claire softly asked, “So...how was your date with Monica?”

Meredith gave Claire a perplexed look. Yes, she and Monica had gone out; yes, it was, in fact, from her point of view, too, a “date”; and, yes, Meredith and Claire had agreed, in their plan, that Meredith should start to spend more time with Monica and try to get closer to her. But she had gotten further with Monica in one evening than either of the conspirators had expected, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell Claire everything. She felt she was entitled to some privacy, too, and wasn’t comfortable with divulging too much to her friend, despite their little conspiracy. In a way, she felt that some of what was going on between herself and Monica was none of Claire’s business. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of fear, sensing that if she didn’t give Claire what she wanted then things might get hostile, and that idea chilled her to her very core. A person she idolized was now all of a sudden intimidating to her. Her only feasible response was to cower and yield to Claire’s inquiry...at least partly. She wasn’t going to report everything.

“Um… um…it went well, I guess. I mean, I’m not sure I would call what me and Monica did a date-date. After all, it was just us, alone, in the campus library, nothing really romantic about that.” There was a bit of disappointment in Meredith’s voice when she characterized their rendezvous in the library as having been rather sterile.

Contrary to Meredith’s denial to Claire, both Meredith and Monica had acknowledged to each other and to themselves that what had occurred between them was a date, of sorts. But a part of Meredith viewed that, since a library was not the most romantic place to get to know a girl, there was some wiggle room about whether to identify it as a date to Caire, and that a proper, unambiguous date with Monica, involving some kind of clear romantic atmosphere, was in order. She envisioned taking Monica out to a nice restaurant, a movie, or someplace where they could have some fun, or be… alone.

But then, thinking back to the whole scope of what had happened on the previous night, Meredith reconsidered. It slowly began to dawn on her that Claire was right in labeling the last night’s adventure as a date. Of course she's right. It was a date. Meredith felt a bit ashamed that she had questioned Claire, her wise friend. After all, by having followed Claire’ guidance so far, she and Monica had already gotten to know each other much better, they had mended fences, and they were now closer than ever before.

“Let’s not split hairs here, Meredith. Two cuties, together, spending an evening alone with each other, wanting to get to know each other a little better...sounds like a date to me.”

Meredith nodded her head, now in open agreement to her roommate’s insinuation. Yes, it was a date… It must have been...particularly considering that the two dating girls had ended up in bed together… Meredith smiled to herself at the little bit of humor she had made in her thoughts...even though she really did feel, deep down, that the fun they had had in bed together had indeed been a continuation and natural aftermath of their having gone out on a date, overlooking the fact that they would have slept in the same bed that night anyway. Moreover, something in the back of her head told her that Claire was an absolute authority figure in her life and it would be in her best interest not to challenge her.

“So, what do you have planned for date number two?” Claire asked as she interrupted Meredith’s train of thought.

“W-well...uh...I’m taking her downtown later today….run a few errands...and maybe hang out with Monica...and get to...get to know her some more...”

“And?” Claire asked as she looked at Meredith with the implication that there should be more to this outing.

“Well, you know, just trying to get to know each other better...work on building a lasting friendship... You know?”

In response, Claire shook her head with disapproval of Meredith’s goals for the day, which in turn caused the petite auburn-haired lass to shy away from her friend.

“Come on, Meredith. You’re letting an opportunity pass you by.”

Meredith just gave Claire a confused look, unable to grasp what point Claire was making.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Claire stared at Meredith with a reprimanding expression on her face, similar to that of a parent scolding a child, and said, “Look, I told you that Monica wants to get to know you in a ‘special’ kind of way. She may not fully realize it yet, but you could help her see it. That is the way to make your relationship with her deep, permanent, and really satisfying for both of you. You need to get her to want you...to want you as someone she could be… intimate with...if you get what I mean...”

Then it clicked in Meredith’s head and her eyes went wide as she finally caught on to what kind of relationship Claire wanted her and Monica to have. This wasn’t the first time getting sexual with Monica had crossed her mind or that Claire had brought it up--and, in fact, Meredith and Monica had even already crossed that line with each other in the flesh, sleeping in the nude with each other over the previous night and Meredith feeling up Monica’s boobs in the process, although neither young woman would, at this point, recognize their nocturnal acts of lesbian love as either sapphic or sexual--but now that Claire was recommending it again and doing it with more insistence than before, Meredith thought, the reality of actively pursuing a sexual involvement with Monica and doing it with a commitment that included Claire knowing all about it, struck her as foreign to who she was, and going too far to achieve her goal of winning Monica.

“C-Claire, I-I appreciate you helping me and Monica get along, but I’m not sure that…that I want Monica to be my girlfriend girlfriend, or that I...that I want her...um...in a...uh...a sexual manner...” Her voice and mind trailed off as she shifted her gaze towards Monica standing near Jessica, dressed only in a black bra and panties set, biting her lower lip anxiously as she watched Meredith and Claire convene in the hallway corner. She looked adorable and delectable. Meredith’s gaze once again focused on the round, succulent, fleshy orbs on her friend’s chest.

“...although…”

Due to Hecate’s tampering with her mind, Meredith no longer felt inadequate when she was around large breasts such as Claire’s or Monica’s. She now found that she had a desire for them, a need to touch and caress them, to grope and fondle them in her hands, the need to suck on a firm, hard tit with her soft, wet lips. Monica’s mammaries were no exception. On the contrary, they were, along with Claire’s, the center of her interest. Meredith allowed herself to picture her time in bed the previous night, Monica’s breasts in her hands as they lay in bed together. She closed her eyes and murmured softly. “Mmmmm.”

It took a minute for Meredith to realize that she had let her mind wander. When she came to her senses, she saw Claire giving her a knowing look, as if they were sharing somewhat the same fantasy.

“Okay,” Meredith started to concede, “I can’t argue that Monica is cute in her own sexy kind of way. I admit that I find myself attracted to her. Very attracted.” Extremely attracted. “But I’m not sure that I want… I mean...well...I did enjoy her company last night...for sure…” Claire, having wanted to be the one to share Monica’s bed, and hearing Monica’s lucky bedmate admit, if in a vague way, to the pleasure of sleeping with the Latina beauty, felt some envy. Nevertheless, she did see the stars in the redhead’s eyes when she spoke of Monica, and she did observe Meredith looking at Monica frequently and her eyes lingering on the Latina’s hot body. She knew she was on the right track in urging Meredith into Monica’s arms. “But...but you’re asking me to do something with her that I’m not very comfortable with, Claire. I want her as a girlfriend, yes, but …”

Before Meredith could finish her feeble protest, Claire gently pressed the tip of her index finger on Meredith’s lips and, with a stern expression on her face, she whispered “shhhhh…”

“Meredith, I think we both know what you really want with Monica,” Claire uttered in a cold, predatory tone. Claire’s seductive touch and her implication about Meredith’s true feelings for Monica called forth more of Meredith’s buried lust for the voluptuous Latina, which Meredith no longer felt like denying.

“And I can help you.”

“R-really?”

Claire made a come hither gesture with her finger and, curious, Meredith gently leaned in. Then out of the blue, Claire closed the distance and planted a soft, lingering kiss on Meredith’s lips. Everyone’s eyes went wide in shock, witnessing Claire do something they thought she would never do, although no objections were raised. Monica and Jessica were shocked to see their straight-laced friend take such an inappropriate liberty.

However, every young woman present had been brainwashed to view two girls kissing as a wonderful, desirable, natural, arousing act, and each reacted internally in that manner. None of them would have minded Claire and Meredith making out much more extensively on the spot, in fact, and part of each girl wanted to see that. Jessica, being further along the path to lesbian conversion, closer to her sapphic feelings, and programmed not to begrudge Claire making love to other women and having girlfriends other than herself, but instead to delight in seeing that, almost swooned at the sight, as she viewed the kiss as romantic, and imagined herself in Meredith’s place, whereas Monica, while also thoroughly titillated, also felt a twinge of jealousy, as someone encroaching on her girlfriend was something she didn’t want.

“There we go,” Claire said in a soft, mischievous whisper after their lips parted, although connected for a few seconds more by a strand of green and maroon saliva. “Something to help with your relationship with Monica. Use it wisely.” Meredith just blushed, overwhelmed by such a bold--and delicious--act by a conservative friend she thought she knew well.

Just as quickly as the moment started, so did it pass. Meredith came out of her haze to realize Claire walking away, back to the breakfast counter, and, in doing so, was giving her a very pleasant view of her panty-covered rump, the subtle, seductive sway and shift of her hips filling her view.

“Jessica, I’m going to need a ride to the admissions office,” Claire announced, aware that everyone’s attention was still focused on her. “Think you can be ready in thirty minutes?” The kiss she gave Meredith being freshly imprinted in everyone’s mind and having everyone wanting more, it took several seconds for Jessica to acknowledge Claire’s request. Her mind was locked on a naughty review of Claire and Meredith kissing each other, supplemented by new mental images of her joining the tame sapphic display that had been put on and escalating it into something more.

“S-sure thing, Claire, j-just give me a few…” It was all Jessica could manage to say given her current excited mood.

“No problem, Jessie.”

Jessica was not oblivious of the change in Claire’s wording and verbal manner. The previously unfailingly polite Claire had just ordered her roommate to do her a favor, with a tone of superiority and dominance, rather than making a courteous request, foregoing even the thought of a “please” and a “thank you”. Plus, in the past, Claire, adhering to formal conventions her birth mother had taught her, had never used a shortened version of another person’s name or a nickname without first getting permission. Short of that, Claire’s polite habit had been to use a person’s full first name. However, the smitten Jessica took no offense. All Claire calling her “Jessie” did was to cause the athletic mulatto beauty to blush, it sounding to her that Claire’s use of an informality like this with her was the way one lover would address another, and signaled to her one more step towards them actually becoming lovers. And, to Jessica, if Claire was bossy, then she, as a beautiful, superior kind of young woman, deserved to be, and it would be Jessica’s pleasure to cater to her.

With that said, Claire reached over the island countertop, grabbed a plate of pancakes, drizzled some sweet syrup on it, stuck her finger in it, pulled back the syrup-covered finger, and placed it into her mouth. She made a sensual play of the chain of small acts, swirling her tongue around her finger and running it up and down her finger’s length, a soft purr emanating from her lips. Jessica, Monica, and Meredith couldn’t help but feel turned on by the show Claire was putting on. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it was done. Claire took the plate of pancakes with her as she walked back to her room.

“If it’s okay, I'm just going to have a little breakfast in bed,” Claire declared, again presenting--quite aware of what she was doing, and smugly, mischievously proud of it--her swaying butt for everyone to see. Claire slyly shifted her head, covertly looking back, catching Jessica, Monica, and Meredith all with facial expressions that clearly indicated that they were entranced by her exit. Delighted and aroused that she was so easily able to captivate her pretty girl friends with her face and her body, she couldn’t help but smile in a wicked fashion. She found she enjoyed teasing her sexy roommates erotically. Very much.

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

Sometime later…

Claire and Jessica were in Jessica’s silver-colored sports sedan driving towards the Preston administration building. Both young women were in pleasant moods, admiring the scenery of the late spring weather as they drove and basking in the sexual titillation remaining within them from the erotic high the roommates had shared during breakfast.

Although Claire had told Jessica to be ready in a half hour, she had rather inconsiderately kept her roommate waiting for another forty-five minutes beyond that, without any excuse or apology, while she leisurely ate her pancakes in bed, snoozed a little more, repainted her fingernails--she liked the dark lavender color very much with which Abby had painted them the night before, but she decided that if she were going to make an optimal impression on Traci and her daughter, then they should match her daring lipstick color, so she took the time to remove the previous night’s enamel and to paint them emerald green--and finally got herself and her night bag ready for the rest of the day and the weekend, including refreshing her lipstick with a few more coats. Always apply lipstick heavily and often, rang through her head as if it were an unquestionable axiom. Jessica, however, being happy just to be with Claire and to watch her eat, to apply and reapply her cosmetics, and to draw on her clothes, didn’t mind waiting for the girl of her dreams and didn’t complain.

“So, looks like you got your weekend planned, huh, Clairebear?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Claire mumbled in a dreamy tone. The thought that she was going to spend the weekend with the foxy woman she knew as Traci and her equally sexy daughter preoccupied her mind. She was barely paying attention to anything else, the exception being that Claire would occasionally take sneaking glances at Jessica here and there and secretly admire the beauty of her sexy roommate.

Jessica noticed only that her best friend was absentmindedly staring off into the distance, but she wanted to draw her friend’s attention. She made the decision to try something. Carefully she reached out for Claire’s left hand, placing hers on top of her friend’s, and then gently interlocked her fingers with Claire’s.

Jessica, fearful of another outburst, braced herself for the worst. Little did she know that Claire, having regretted her rejection of Jessica the day before, had decided to be receptive to virtually anything Jessica might try with her. So, to her relief, Jessica discovered that Claire not only did not react in a negative manner, but instead embraced the hand hold. Jessica was elated to feel and see Claire draw her hand in closer and place both their hands on top of her lap. Claire looked over at Jessica and smiled at her warmly, letting Jessica know she had now successfully captured much more of her friend’s attention.

The majority of the car ride after that passed in silence as both girls would take turns trying to take quick glances at each other, both basking in the feeling of something romantic happening between them, a feeling mixed with a tingle of lust.

As they drew closer to their destination, Jessica realized she simply had to ask Claire a question, the question burning in her mind since the moment she witnessed Claire kiss Meredith. If a neutral observer who knew that Jessica had a crush on Claire and knew that Jessica had witnessed Claire and Meredith share a tender kiss, it would be natural to assume that such a scene would spark feelings of jealousy and possessiveness within Jessica; but unaware that her mind had been heavily altered, and implanted with the feeling that her life, emotions, and body were Claire’s to play with as she saw fit, and her lot was to patiently serve her and be devoted to her, without any expectation of exclusivity or recompense, only with the hope of an eventual romantic and sexual relationship, and even of marriage, Jessica was perfectly content with and reconciled to sharing Claire with many other women. She saw only beauty and joy when two women such as her two best friends participated in lesbian behavior. Sapphic moments like the one in which Claire and Meredith had engaged simply caused feelings of joy and bliss to rise in her breast. So Jessica was not jealous, but she did wonder whether that kiss signaled some kind of sapphic evolution within Claire and whether that might open the opportunity to some corresponding breakthrough in her own relationship with best friend.

Jessica did her best to calm and to steel herself. Okay, Harrison…I mean, Jessica...or Jessie... It’s now or never, she mentally told herself, having corrected her form of mental self-address from the harder, last-name term, one she and others were accustomed to using for her in her former persona as a jock-type toughie, to a softer term, one more suitable for the feminine girly girl she was fast becoming and feeling like, and then to the name Claire had used on her earlier, one Jessica now took as a name of endearment crafted just for her by the special young woman she loved, the women she hoped would become her lover. Jessie...you can do this....

“Hey, Clairebear, mind if I ask you a question?” Jessica asked in a soft tone. Claire picked up on the noticeably shy, demur inflection in her friend's voice, and was charmed by it.

“Sure, shoot.”

“That kiss...you know...with Meredith...if you don’t mind…uh...you don’t have to answer...I mean...unless you feel like it…” Jessica was trying her best to find a way to inquire about the kiss she saw her secret crush give to her roommate, but it was coming out in a flustered mess.

Claire smiled as she recalled the kiss. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of liberation for having indulged in that act, casting aside what she now perceived as outdated, confining beliefs and embracing new, liberal ones that Regina, a woman she now viewed as her own mother, recommended she adopt as her own. She had wanted to kiss the pretty redhead and she had, without any regret or apology. It had been a delightful treat, for both of them, judging by Meredith’s ready, if surprised, response.

In her mind, Claire didn’t quite see the kiss as a homosexual act--although she could not deny to herself the erotic temptation she had felt when Meredith and she had stood alone together in the hallway and the thrill in yielding to that desire, meshing her mouth once again with the darling redhead’s. Rather, she saw it just as much as a way to help Meredith and Monica get along better and, dare she imagine, maybe to even cause them to become lovers. She didn’t know why she thought so, but Claire felt that Meredith and Monica would be a whole lot happier if they became girlfriends and were in a sexual relationship. Plus, there was something so exciting to Claire about the very possibility of seeing them get together that deeply that Claire felt that she would do anything to help make it happen.

“Claire, hello... Earth to Claire… You in there?”

Claire snapped back to reality when she heard Jessica and realized that thinking about the kiss between her and Meredith and wanting Monica and Meredith to become intimate with each other had caused her mind to wander to the point of almost dozing off.

“H-huh… Oh, Goddess, I’m so sorry, Jessica. I didn’t mean to ignore you like that. Guess I’m a bit excited about my weekend plans,” Claire weakly aologized.

“It’s okay, Claire...I guess…”

“No,” Claire interrupted Jessica. “Look, Jessie you’ve been my most loyal friend, and these past few days I’ve treated you horribly.”

“Claire, you don’t have to apolo…”

“Yes, yes I do, Jessica,”  Claire countered as she again interrupted her friend. “Ever since this whole college tuition fiasco started, you’ve always been there giving me your support, and I’ve taken it for granted.”  As Claire was saying this, she held onto Jessica’s hand a little more tightly, not wanting to let go, feeling that if she did that she would lose her best friend.

“Claire, you know that I always got your back. It’s what friends do for each other.  And I just want you to know that you’ll always be my girlfriend,” Jessica interjected passionately. She immediately recognized her slip, having inadvertently confessed the type of relationship she wished she and Claire had. Even though, technically, Jessica had only used a term, “girlfriend”, which could easily be interpreted as the innocent “friends who are girls”, she had meant “lesbian girlfriends” and feared that Claire could read her mind enough to understand it like that, too. Panic seized her. Jessica wasn’t sure how Claire would react.

As mentioned, by “girlfriends”, Jessica had meant “more than friends”...“dating girlfriends”...“together”...“in a romantic relationship”.  That’s how she had meant it, and her tone, full of obvious, overflowing love, conveyed the depth of Jessica’s feelings for Claire even more than did her actual words. Would Claire know what Jessica really meant? Jessica hoped not, not quite yet, not after she had ticked Claire off the day before by being too brazen. Jessica knew that her friend’s views were consistently conservative, if not prudish. If she thought Jessica was revealing that she viewed their relationship to be one which was spilling over the bounds of conventional friendship into the realm of lesbian intimacy, Claire could easily be offended again. Fortunately, Claire showed no signs of shock or offense, and started to address Jessica’s inquiry about the infamous kiss.

“So, um…in regards to that kiss with Meredith... You know that Meredith has always been like another little sister to me, and I care for her. The kiss was just a special greeting between friends,” Claire prevaricated in a nonchalant manner, acting as if she hadn’t heard Jessica’s confession of love for her. However, in reality Claire had heard Jessica allude to the type of relationship that she wanted with her, and had well understood what Jessica had really meant. The emotion in the way Jessica had pronounced “always” and “my girlfriend” had left little room for doubt, at least to someone who knew Jessica the way Claire did. But she wasn’t offended, not in the least. Rather, Claire’s heart skipped a beat as she, having been corrupted by Hecate’s subliminal messages, felt reciprocal feelings toward Jessica, wanted Jessica’s carnal love, was glad to see she had it, and started to seriously consider the appeal of dating a beautiful, sexy woman like Jessica.

Claire shifted her gaze to look her sexy friend over. She took notice of the top Jessica was wearing. It was a tight, gleaming black spandex sports top with gold trim around the edges that did an exquisite job of showing off her perky breasts, at which Claire couldn’t help but marvel, especially when she took a closer look and saw her roommate’s nipples clearly poking their impression into the glossy material. She’s not wearing a bra! Wow… The view of Jessica’s nipple prints and Jessica's licentious daring in revealing herself like that to her gave Claire a surge of lust for her companion. Claire also remembered her own desire to try going braless sometime--was it Regina who had suggested it?--and she resolved to try out that look herself at some point in the coming week.

Moving her gaze downwards, Claire caught sight of Jessica’s sensational fuchsia super short shorts, also of spandex, of a high-gloss variety, that molded onto the smooth curves of her lower half. Jessica had been delighted to find this item in her chest of drawers when she dressed after breakfast, being not quite able to remember when she bought them, but they were the shortest, tightest shorts or hot pants she had ever seen and, having observed before that Claire seemed to have a thing for her legs, and knowing they were going to be in Jessica’s car together, had drawn them on enthusiastically. As Jessica had hoped, Claire’s eyes followed Jessica’s long, silky-smooth legs, which were exposed all the way to her groin, up and down their length, which entranced Claire.

Now the idea of dating Jessica and having her as a girlfriend suddenly jumped from having some appeal to being extremely appealing. It would mean that, as Jessica’s girlfriend, she would have unfettered access to her mulatto friend’s sexy body...including those breasts, braless and bouncing as they now so obviously were, and those delicious-looking legs, which were enchanting her as they drove. Claire couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to run her hands up and down one of those legs, right now, or even to kiss that firm, smooth skin...but then she realized that would be rather inappropriate, at least in this moment...and that, besides, there might be some way of doing it in the future. They did, after all, sleep together...

Girlfriend, hmmm? Why not? asked a voice in Claire’s head. After all, did Regina not say you should see things from a lesbian perspective and take advantage of opportunities like this with other girls if they presented themselves? Jessica would make a very alluring catch and a very nice girlfriend. She wants you and she’s pretty much saying she’s there for the taking. You are trying to be a lesbian. This is the perfect move for you. She is the perfect girl for you. Girls should date girls. Go ahead. Date her. Make her your girlfriend. Don’t be afraid. She wants this. You want this. What are you waiting for? The voice in her head continued, scolding her for her cowardice for not immediately responding to Jessica’s confession of love and encouraging her to become a lesbian girlfriend, and to accept her first girlfriend--that is, after Meredith--who happened to also be her dear best friend, and to enter into a romantic relationship with her. This, in turn, caused Claire to give her friend’s hand a gentle squeeze as if she was trying to reassure Jessica that everything was going to be okay.

An idea sprang into Claire’s mind on how she should proceed. She hoped that it could at least smooth things out in their friendship, but, deep down, subconsciously, her hope was that it would push them further together into a sexual lesbian partnership.

“Hey Jessie, mind if I ask you a question?” Claire asked her friend in a cheery sing-song manner.

“Umm, sure what’s up, Clairebear?” responded Jessica

“You know that, um…how I told you last night…you know...how my sponsor is big into LGBT rights...and that I was advised by Ms. Burke to try to see myself in a lesbian perspective? She suggested that I even...um...date...girls…maybe even get a...you know...a...a girlfriend...and...uh...be her...her lesbian… girlfriend… Well, I was wondering if my bestie would like to maybe...if she wants...I wouldn’t hold it against you if you didn’t want to...but...maybe help me out...” Claire knew she was speaking awkwardly, as if she were asking out someone she had a crush on--which she did, without knowing it.

Jessica’s eyes went wide with surprise as she fought back to contain it, while trying to stay focused on the road. Had she heard Claire right? Did her best friend and secret lesbian crush just ask her to help her with becoming a lesbian, or to experiment with it? Jessica was lost for words and couldn’t formulate a response. It was as if her dream was coming true.

“You okay there, Jessie? I mean, if what I said was inappropriate and upset you, I didn…”

“No! Absolutely not! Trust me, Claire, I’m not upset or anything. It's just, well, it’s just I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Well, I don’t blame you, Jessie. It is a very awkward request to make, but I thought that my best friend who said she would help me with anything would like to help me with securing my college sponsorship.”

“Of course I will. I’ll do anything to you…I mean for you, Claire...anything...for you,” stumbled Jessica, caught in the excitement of the moment.

“So, I take it that you’re interested,” ventured Claire, as if she already knew Jessica’s answer.

Jessica eagerly nodded her head in agreement. Thinking of the many opportunities that this would give her to get closer to Claire and to maybe convince her that she would enjoy being a lesbian on a more permanent basis and take her on as a long-term, genuine girlfriend.

“So it’s settled, then. You’ll help me out and who knows where this might lead to.”

Jessica knew where she definitely wanted this to lead to--she and Claire together forever as loving lesbian wives. She could feel her body pulse with giddy lust just thinking of what she and Claire would be doing together as she helped Claire with getting acclimated to being a lesbian.

“So… um… how do you want to do this? I mean, what can I do to you...I mean, do for you…” Jessica asked eagerly, stumbling on just about every other word trying to convey her eagerness to help her friend. “You know, how can I help you, Clairebear?”

“I guess maybe we can start, like...uh...going out together. You know, try and get to know each other more.”

“Like a date?” Jessica said with excitement as she did her best to contain it. It was as if her heart was ready to burst out from her chest.

“Yeah. A date.”

Jessica was doing her best to stay focused on staying on the road, despite her giddy excitement, not wanting to get into any accident that could cut short this wonderful moment in her life.

“Well, I am busy this whole weekend. How about the following Wednesday evening at Marshall’s? Just you and me.” Claire playfully put a seductive tone on the last part of her proposal. While she was having fun with arranging her first girl-on-girl date--if one didn’t consider her upcoming time with Traci as a date--Claire had no idea what an upheaval of emotion and arousal she was inflicting on Jessica, or, seen from another point of view, treating her to. If she had been able to see better inside the car, she could have seen tell-tale signs of it--a definite, progressively-growing wet spot in the spandex between Jessica’s legs, and her spandex-covered nipples stiff with lust and desire trying to poke through her top if they could.

“Sure thing, Claire.”

“Then it’s settled. It’s a date!” exclaimed Claire.

Jessica only let out a low audible moan of lust in response to Claire’s proclamation that she had just asked her out and that they had their first date lined up on the upcoming Wednesday at a popular hangout for students who attended Preston.

“There’s one more thing I need you to help me with.”

“Name it!” Jessica responded eagerly. Claire could have asked her to hide a dead body and she would have done it without a second thought.

“I need you to help me get Meredith and Monica to hook up.”

Jessica responded by giving Claire a dubious look. The history of these two roommates, which she had observed all too well, all too often, was one of constant bickering and of her getting involved in some way to resolve the feuds or to prevent their petty spats from escalating.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out before you say anything,” Claire petitioned, recognizing the look that Jessica was giving her as one of doubt, which reaction Claire could understand given the times Jessica had had to get involved in playing peacekeeper with the two.

“I know you think those two get along as well as cats and dogs, and it’s hard to see much hope in them ever getting along, but I know something you don’t: They really like each other and they both secretly want to be girlfriends. Each one has come to me in private confessing how they regretted how they’ve acted towards the other and want to change their relationship. Just recently, Meredith confessed to me how she secretly has a crush on Monica.” Claire wasn’t sure why she lied to Jessica about why Meredith came to her in regards to helping her with her rocky relationship with Monica, but it seemed to work. Jessica nodded her head in apparent understanding and agreement as Claire continued to explain the situation to her, Jessica subsequently expressing her interest in helping Claire push Meredith and Monica into becoming lesbian lovers and agreeing that it would be best for everyone’s interest to make that desire a reality.

“Don’t you think they would be cute as a couple?”

Jessica thought back to the previous night, when she saw Meredith and Monica coming back from an evening in the library together, acting giddy to be with each other, just like two people starting to fall in love with each other, and, by all appearances, eager to go to bed together. At the time Jessica had thought their behavior a little odd, considering their past animosity, but now it was starting to make sense.

“Yeah… Now that you say that, I think I can see it, too…”

“That kiss this morning? That was to help Meredith out by making Monica jealous. I can’t wait to see them kissing each other!”

“Yeah, Clairebear… That does sound good…really good... So what do you want me to do? Make out with Meredith in front of Monica every time I see her?” Jessica chuckled. While she meant this statement as a jest, Jessica did find the idea of kissing her red-headed roommate very appealing, and wouldn’t mind having an excuse to do so. While she was committed to the idea of becoming Claire’s one and only, she reasoned that there was nothing wrong with fooling around with other girls, either, a conclusion to which she had come during her last session with Mistress Ilsa. Promiscuity would give her more experience in becoming a suitable lover for her best friend.

“No, you silly thing, nothing like that.” After she said that, it occurred to Claire that she would never have called Jessica “silly” in the past...but now...with Jessica’s personality having mysteriously become more girlish and giddy and emotional and playful and less serious...she could…and it fit... “Unless that’s what you want to do.” Claire realized that she wouldn’t mind seeing Jessica and Meredith make out, even though she knew Jessica was kidding. But It would be pretty interesting.... “But, mainly, I just need you to pay them some compliments every time you see them together. But none of that attacking, sarcastic stuff that you have thrown at them in the past, like facetiously accusing them of being dykes. Be soft and nice and sincere. Tell them how nice they look together, maybe how much they look like they belong together. Let them know how much of a loving couple they make when they’re together, and that you accept that and are happy for them. Stuff like that. Think you can do that for me, Jessie?”

Jessica was coming to love the way Claire was calling her “Jessie” all the time now. It seemed to be Claire’s special word for her, of Claire’s creation, a name of endearment only her beloved would use to address her, a name synonymous in Jessica’s head now with “lover”. “For you, Clairebear, I’ll do anything.”

A few minutes passed as they finally arrived at the administration building. Pulling over to the front entrance, Jessica got out and rushed over to the passenger side to help Claire out--like a true gentleman...er...that is, like a true lady--and then popped open her trunk to take out Claire’s overnight bag.

“Well...thanks for the ride, Jessie,” Claire said as she stretched herself out in the open.

“Sure thing. No problem, Clairebear,” Jessica returned. Standing there together, facing each other, neither young woman could think of anything more to say, but they both keenly sensed something new and lovely in the air between them. Neither wanted to leave. Claire took Jessica’s hand in hers, interlocking their fingers again, as they gazed silently into each other’s eyes. Finally Claire broke the silence.

“I’m going to miss you.” Claire reached out to brush some stray, windblown, light-brown locks out of Jessica’s face.

“Me, too.” Jessica softly captured Claire”s hand before she could withdraw it, and held it against her check. “Don’t forget me.”

“Don’t worry.” Claire stroked Jessica’s cheek. “How could I ever forget you?........Well...I guess I better go. See you in a couple of days. Okay?”

“Okay. Can’t wait. Bye.”

“Bye”.

Jessica began to walk back into her vehicle, but stopped when Claire called out her name. “Hey Jessie!”

Jessica turned to face her friend. Claire had closed the distance between them, took Jessica’s face in her hands,.and playfully planted a kiss on her lips. It was the same kind of sweet kiss she had seen her bestie give Meredith, and like the one she had received in their common bed the previous night...and a preview, it seemed, of the ones which she might get more of--hopefully many, many more of--when they started going out on dates.

“Have a safe drive,” Claire bid softly.

“Uh-huh,” Jessica breathed with a flushed expression on her face.

This time Claire stood there, watching her roommate get back into her car, unable to take her eyes off her. Wow… She’s really cute, she thought, wondering what had taken her so long to notice that fact. Really, really cute! Claire felt elated that she had asked her friend out...that they were going to start dating...that they were going to start belonging to each other in some way exceeding mere friendship...that she would have a lot more reasons in the future to kiss her again...to spend more time with her...and to hold her more tenderly and intimately in bed... Jessica drove off, looking at her friend in the rearview mirror waving goodbye, her own hand out the driver’s side window waving back.


Wow… I...I think she likes me… wow… yes...she definitely likes me…and not just like a friend… I’m going to make sure she likes me even more...much, much more…that she can’t stop thinking about me…... You’re going to become a lesbian, for real, Claire… I’m going to make sure of it……. You’re going to fall in love with me., Miss Claire Love-Livingston… You won’t be able to think of anyone else… You won’t know what hit you…….. First...a date….then...your girlfriend...your hot lesbian girlfriend...the girlfriend you’re sleeping with...then…Mrs. Jessica Love-Livingston…….. Not a bad ring to it, she thought as she drove away, thinking of the possible future she hoped would happen between her and Claire, missing her already, eager for their reunion in a few days, a reunion Claire was not likely to be able to forget for a long, long time, Jessica thought, smiling wickedly to herself.

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

It was late in the morning as Monica stood in front of the full-length body mirror in her bedroom-- no, hers and Meredith’s bedroom; “our” bedroom; standing not far from “our” bed--modeling for herself. She was dressed only in a pair of tight-fitting, low-cut, hip-hugger jeans that did an amazing job of showing off the seductive curves of her sexy ass and glamorous legs, four-inch black stiletto heel pumps on her feet, and a bra holding her large breasts, the same vermillion-red push up bra that Meredith peeled off her body and cast away late the previous night, the same bra in which she had awoken in bed with Meredith a few days prior. She knew Meredith liked her in it, as she had specifically requested that Monica wear the semi-sheer vermillion bra and panties set to bed the previous night. If the pretty redhead liked her in it--and out of it--then, why not wear it for her now, on their date?

Monica had just finished putting on some makeup, her lips and nails now painted in a bright, glossy ruby red--largely because she had loved a very similar color on Meredith’s lips and nails the night before, and also because she was confident and hopeful that Meredith would like her lips and nails coated with it, as Meredith had chosen to wear essentially the same color on their first date--gold colored blush on her cheeks, eyelashes curled and thick with mascara, eyelids painted an emerald green and highlighted by the blackest eyeliner. She had just finished using the curling iron to put some enchanting waves in her hair.

With the morning sunlight streaming into the room and falling on her head, for the first time she noticed the subtle dark blue cast that Hecate had placed into her hair and marveled at it. Don’t remember when I got this bluish tone, but I look fan-fucking-tabulous, Monica thought to herself as she observed the color. Then a follow-up to that thought entered her mind. Wonder what Meredith would think of me if I fully dyed my hair...like...if I went all the way blue...lighter blue...deeper blue...definitely blue… An image from her dream of herself with vividly blue hair crossed her mind, sending a wave of carnal excitement through her.

This wasn’t the first time the thought of dying her hair had crossed Monica’s mind, but this was the first time it struck her as a realistic possibility, as dread for her mother’s reaction had always made her shy away from even considering it seriously before, and it was also the first time she cared what Meredith’s opinion about it might be. Also a new general impression came to her, in which she felt she should give Meredith’s view more weight than her mother’s, and more weight than that of most other people, too, maybe even more weight than her own opinion.

Monica then imagined her hair red as Meredith’s sexy mane, another dream image flashing through her brain, and she blushed at the exciting prospect, at least in part because she would then look more like her hot roommate, whom she found herself admiring and being attracted to more with every passing hour, as it seemed, but also in part because she simply loved red hair. Or, she continued this line of thinking, maybe she would look wonderful as a brunette, like her hottie friend Jessica. Or...dare she even imagine it…blonde.

Could I...ever...possibly...be...a...blonde…? She pictured blonde girls she had seen and knew--such as various blonde celebrities, the coed who had sat in the row ahead of her in one of her classes the day before, about whom she had fantasized, and the silvery-blonde girl Abby had introduced to her roommate group as she had led them on a tour--and found her pulse accelerating. Further, thinking of blondes brought her mind back to Meredith, as Monica had noticed that her foxy roommate also had gold-colored blonde highlights in her red hair. It made her wonder if they somehow got their hair highlighted together and for some reason she had forgotten it, or maybe they did it themselves. She wondered what Meredith would look like if she went all the way and became a blonde, which prompted her mind to recall the image of Meredith as a blonde goddess in her dream the previous night. The image flashed in and out of her mind quickly, but long enough to shorten her breath and quicken her pulse a little. In any case, Monica felt that blonde hair was supreme among hair colors and wondered if Meredith felt that way herself.

However, right now Monica had to focus on selecting a top for her date with Meredith. Modeling tops in the mirror, she held a mint green blouse in her right hand up to her chest and then a sapphire blue spaghetti strap top in her left, alternating between the two tops, trying to decide which one would be best to wear for Meredith.

DateI’m going on a date with Meredith… a girl… I’m dating a girl… a very cute, sexy, geeky girl…

As the realization of the homosexuality of her thoughts dawned on her, Monica just laughed and playfully shrugged it off. Okay, she was going out with a girl, but that didn’t mean she was a lesbian, nor that she had sexual desires for Meredith. The redhead was simply her friend--possibly her best friend, suddenly and surprisingly--a young woman she found interesting and wanted to get to know on a deep, friendly level. Surely, Meredith saw it the same way, seeking to get to know Monica on a higher level, too, and to further develop their budding relationship. Neither one intended to fuck the other. The remnant of the “normal” side of Monica’s personality fought to convince the tampered side of her mind that there was nothing about the imminent outing other than two heterosexual female friends hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

Then again...the idea of having some intimacy...maybe even a small dash of sexual intimacy...struck her as not being all that bad. She does have a very cute body, Monica thought to herself. She wondered why some young man hadn’t taken her out yet. But then again, she was glad that Meredith wasn’t dating some yucky boy. It meant she had her best friend’s attention all to herself.

Monica found that something kept bouncing around in her mind as she pondered dating her very cute friend, a consideration that would keep popping up, a notion that her mind kept bringing to the fore and which she at last stopped trying to ignore: Dates, in her experience, almost always became sexual, sooner or later, if not on the first date, then soon thereafter. If this was a date, and a second one at that, then an opportunity for sexual interaction could well come up...and if it did, then she should be amenable to it. She really wouldn’t mind some sex with Meredith--no, it was more than that; she would love some sexual interaction with the darling redhead--and she also wanted to please her cute date. Really, she should be open to anything Meredith wanted to do. In fact, she had to go all the way, if Meredith wanted her to. She was to surrender her body for Meredith’s pleasure. She had to give up the goods, so to speak. And she wanted to. Her virginity was for Meredith to claim. Or any sexy woman could have it.

An image passed through her mind, again prompted by a similar one in one of her dreams of the previous night, of herself, naked, standing, riding some open platform through the air, her long blue hair rippling in the wind, and wearing a necklace with a dangling charm composed of one word in scroll style: whore. The brief image sent a thrill through her. However, before Monica could analyse this visualization or her sudden swing from thinking she was not dating for sex to being ready for any act of hard-core lesbian fornication, a voice interrupted her train of thought.

“Hey Monica! You ready to go?”

Monica turned her head and her heart skipped a beat. It was Meredith by the doorway, her best friend leaning on the doorway, arms crossed, and giving her a very leering stare. Meredith had on a midriff-baring, black baby tee with a picture of Tinkerbell striking something of a seductive pose on it--a tiny, tight shirt which exposed her smooth stomach generously and emphasized the perky little mounds on her chest--and a pair of tight jeans that clung to her hips and the curves of her lower body. Meredith had her auburn locks up in a loose, playful, curly ponytail, with full, straight bangs, a style which Monica had never seen on her cute roommate before and which look, combined with Meredith’s striking makeup, including the dark burgundy lipstick she had worn for breakfast, along with matching nails and daring attire, she found simply beguiling.

When the Latina recovered, she stuttered a response. “Uh… just deciding on...on what to wear. Which one do you...do you think...Meredith?” asked Monica as she raised both tops for Meredith to evaluate. In doing so, she gave her roommate an unfettered view of her firm, large, bra-encased breasts.

Meredith savored the view that Monica presented of her luscious tits--big, firm, round, and so soft looking. Meredith felt a pronounced urge to walk over and cop a feel of the exquisite mammaries of the Latina hottie standing in front of her. Thinking twice, however, she decided to resist the impulse, as she didn’t want to jeopardize their newly established friendship...although...she then recalled that Monica had raised no objections, and even welcomed it, when she played with the hot Latina girl’s tits last night as they slept naked together...

In any case, the petite coed was very enamored by the sight of her sexy roommate, and felt strongly like stoking whatever it was that was burning between them in their bedroom this morning. Meredith cleared her throat and did her best to do a seductive strut towards Monica. Monica felt a little nervous as her best friend walked up to her, her hips swaying side to side as she did, while giving her a lustful look, a look that she had seen men give her when she passed them by. The mere thought of men--icky, yucky men, which, she felt impressed, all men were--reacting to her with sexual attraction was repugnant and creepy now; but Meredith, a pretty girl, eyeing her like that and undulating enticingly toward her...that was totally different...maybe a little odd different...but cool different...although Monica wasn’t sure what to make of it...other than that she liked it...a lot... especially with the delightful redhead in the figure-hugging, cropped black tee standing right in front of her...so close...so pretty...

Monica gasped as she felt Meredith place her arms around her neck. Their eyes locking, Monica found herself losing herself in Meredith’s crystal blue eyes, as if they were pools of refreshing water into which she could dive. Meredith leaned into Monica, pressing her little tits into Monica’s large orbs, making Monica swoon a little at the exquisite enjoyment, both from the contact of their bodies and from the kissing-range proximity of the redhead’s lovely, painted face. Monica felt a kiss between them, one similar to the earlier one between Meredith and Claire, could be imminent. Her heart raced with anticipation and hope. But Meredith’s lips came no closer.

“Well…let me see...” Meredith backed off some, breaking the embrace that had aroused both of them, to allow her to evaluate the blouses in question, pleased that Monica--for the first time ever, that she could recall--wanted her opinion, especially on a matter of fashion. “Okay,” pointing to the mint green top, “hold that one up.” It was seen to be a pull-on knit piece with cute, short, puffy sleeves and a rather conventional cut, except for a key-hole cut-out which might reveal some cleavage, which Meredith knew she wouldn’t mind seeing all day long.

“Okay...nice… Now, how about that blue one…?” Monica held up the slinkier sapphire blue, sleeveless blouse. Made of a thin, high-gloss, silky material, it was apparent that this one would expose significantly more skin. There was no question for either girl as to which top they both preferred on Monica for their date. Monica wanted to display her charms and Meredith wanted to see them.

“Since you’re asking for my opinion,” Meredith said coyly, pretending that she was truly deliberating which top she liked the best for Monica to wear, trying to appear unswayed by the sexiness of the blue one, while rather obviously savoring what Monica might look like in it, “I think I like this one.” Meredith pointed to the sapphire blue top. “I think it will do a great job of showing off your… um… your...your…” Meredith verbally fumbled, searching for a plausible excuse which would allow her to cover up the true reason she wanted her friend to wear the sapphire top. “...um...your eyes.” When she spoke the word “eyes”, another word rang through her head: ...tits...

Losing herself in admiration of Monica’s physical assets and in the prospect of being able to see them well displayed over the course of the day caused Meredith’s subconscious mind to gain control over her body, more specifically her right arm, and do something she and most anyone else would have considered a serious break in polite social decorum: She gently placed her right hand atop Monica’s left breast and gave it a soft caress.

The redhead instantly recognized the impolite audacity of what she was doing...yet she kept her hand where it was, curious as to Monica’s reaction. To Meredith’s relief, Monica did nothing to discourage Meredith’s brazenly inappropriate touch, but, rather, she let out a soft moan in unmistakable approval of her friend groping her, Monica’s mind having been altered sufficiently to let her interpret an invasive caress like this to be a form of acceptable, friendly playfulness, especially from a woman she was not only now viewing as a friend but also one for whom she was secretly having sexual desires.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” gushed Meredith in a gentle, sincere tone, looking directly into her bedmate’s deep brown eyes while underlining her affectionate praise with another soft squeeze of the silky red bra cup and the full, womanly breast in her hand.

Meredith’s compliment and intimate touch caused Monica to gulp and to shyly turn her head away, trying to hide her blushing embarrassment. Meredith was the first person she could remember other than her father to pay her a genuine compliment with no apparent ulterior motive. If her mother said anything complimentary to her, it was usually heavily laden with sarcasm and designed to injure rather than to support. When boys paid her praise for her beauty, it was invariably attached to attempts to get into her panties or to have her indulge them with a blowjob or hand job.

“Well, don’t let me stop you from getting ready.” Meredith’s voice snapped Monica back to reality.

“Yes… um… I just need to get my top on,” said Monica as her face flushed a light crimson shade. Meredith again stepped back to give her roommate the necessary space. The first thing Monica did, however, was to run her eyes over her pretty companion, taking in the details of her appearance, and lingering on her top and the breasts in it. She was happy Meredith wore something tight enough to show them off. She looked for and found the outline of the redhead’s bra underneath, and she idly wondered which bra Meredith had chosen to wear--the inviting pink satin number she had worn to breakfast, or the slinky silver satin bralette from the night before, or something else--and whether and when she would get to see what was under the black tee.

Monica proceeded to draw the top over her head and gently shimmy it down to cover her body. Pulling it over to cover her attractive upper half, Monica then followed by pulling and pinching the fabric over a few places to stretch it over her youthful form.

The top draped from her shoulders by spaghetti straps, which were so thin that the red shoulder straps on her bra were plainly seen, which over the course of the day reminded Meredith numerous times of the beautiful, sexy bra and it’s bulging contents which the top covered. The top of the bodice barely covered her skimpy bra with a very low sweetheart neckline, leaving her neck, shoulders, arms, the top half of her back, and a breathtaking amount of her cleavage virtually bare and on provocative display. Monica turned this way and that, modeling the blouse and her body for her date.

Meredith loved the way the style, design, cut, and material of the blue blouse showed off Monica’s breasts. Meredith unconsciously longed to spend the day with Monica displaying herself and her tits in this blouse, and could hardly believe that she was going to actually be so fortunate. What’s more, she found herself hoping to see, at some point before the day, or their date, was over, Monica’s considerable charms even better revealed, or even to see the voluptuous Latina naked; after all, she had already seen Monica naked, and that had been an incredible experience, but that was in the moonlit dark, so the next sight she felt she deserved to enjoy was to see the beautiful Latina in her full glory and in good lighting. A part of her knew that there was something naughty about that wish, and that it wasn’t likely to happen, anyway, while another part of her mind felt it was perfectly natural and exciting to wish for that.

“Well, how do I look?” asked Monica as she presented herself to Meredith.

Meredith let out a soft, playful chuckle in response and replied, “Like a beauty queen.”

Monica giggled and gave her red-headed friend a warm smile in response to her friendly compliment.

“Come on, let's get going before it gets late...my date,” Meredith said, smiling at her own cute little rhyme which underlined one more time for both of them what the real nature of their outing was to be, as she gestured for them to leave.

“H-Hey Meredith, can I ask you a question?” asked Monica. Her manner was so shy and demur that Meredith couldn’t help but feel a little enamored with how cute the Latina hottie looked and acted, especially considering the confident, commanding type of young woman the Latina had always seemed to be before...and, in fact had been. But this Monica shyly turned her head away from Monica’s gaze, reminiscent to Meredith of various bashful and repressed but romantically smitten and sexually smoldering schoolgirl characters common in the romance mangas she liked to read every now and then. Other than that, she didn’t know why Monica behaving in such a timid manner seemed so…so appealing...sexually tantalizing, even...but it did.

Clearing her throat and standing more erect, as Meredith felt it was only natural to want to seem a bit more…more dominant to Monica in this situation, Meredith responded, “Sure thing.”

Monica steepled her two index fingers together, gently tapping them together in a reticent manner, her eyes still turned away from the gaze of lithe red-haired beauty in front of her.

“So…that thing that happened between you and Claire earlier this morning...what...um...what was that all about?...if...if you don’t mind me asking...”

A slight blush appeared on Meredith’s soft cheeks as the memory of the morning events played out in her mind--the roommates gathering together to enjoy their common company, all attired only in bras and panties and checking each other out; Claire taking Meredith down the hall; the exquisite romantic tension between them; the way Claire’s soft lips touched hers; and the look of envy and desire in her roommates’ eyes. The remembrance of the kiss, in particular, the luscious joining of their painted lips for a few precious seconds, caused a small, pleased smile to appear on Meredith’s face, accompanied by a set of cute dimples on her cheeks.

Then Claire’s words echoed within Meredith’s mind: something to help your relationship with Monica. Meredith’s smile took on a more wicked appearance as she finally realized the meaning of Claire’s statement.

Meredith guessed that Monica was most likely a bit jealous when she witnessed Claire plant a soft kiss on Meredith’s lips earlier today...and that was precisely one of the goals of their little conspiracy, to make Monica jealous and thereby to drive her into Meredith’s arms. It was Claire’s way of helping both of them get together, Meredith knew, and it seemed like it might be working, given Monica’s question. She recognized that this inquiry was Monica’s way of trying to get more details about Meredith’s relationship with Claire without revealing her jealousy too much. Meredith saw it as a golden opportunity for her to manipulate the stuck-up Latina fox into becoming her willing thrall.

“Oh, you know...nothing but just a friendly kiss between two friends. You know, in Europe friends...girls who are friends...kiss each other all the time...and no one over there thinks anything of it. It’s really perfectly natural, don’t you think?” Meredith asked in a nonchalant tone. “Why do you ask?”

“Um… nothing...just curious, you know...uh…” Monica responded, her eyes trying to avoid staring into Meredith’s. “Just wanted to know…if...um...”

“Just a friendly kiss. You don’t have a problem with that, Monica, do you?” Meredith emphasized the last part of her statement to drive home its accusatory nature.

Monica quickly shook her head side-to-side, wanting to defuse any offense Meredith might have taken, saying, “No, no, no problem, no problem at all. Just, you know, curious about it. I mean, are you and Claire like...like a couple or something?” The moment she said that, Monica realized she didn’t want to phrase her curiosity quite like that. Still, she hoped Meredith’s affections were not tied up by someone else.

“Why? You jealous?” Meredith inquired, followed by playful, mocking laughter, confident she was hitting a nerve.

“N-no… no, I mean… I just want to know where I stand with you, Meredith.” Again, Monica realized that she was blurting out more than she wanted to, that she was revealing feelings she hadn’t analyzed yet, but she nevertheless found she couldn’t help herself. “I mean, you and I kissed and...and...I’m totally okay with that…” The truth was that Monica was much more than merely okay with their kiss, and she was feeling that truth now. It had been a special moment in her life, and she assumed that it must have been just as special for Meredith. “But...but I didn’t know you and Claire were...”

Ah! She is jealous! She wants me to herself! I’ve got her now!

Meredith then placed a finger on Monica’s lips and let out a gentle “shhhh…..” In response, Monica’s body instinctively quivered as her friend touched her.

“Monica, Claire and I are very good friends. We have a fond relationship. Surely you can agree that close friends like she and I can have special bonds that are expressed in special ways. Do you have issues with that?” Meredith said in an accusatory tone, which in turn caused Monica to feel ashamed. She meekly shook her head “no” and timidly turned her head away from Meredith, trying to avoid her gaze.

Monica had never meant to openly challenge the right of Meredith to have a friendship with Claire, nor for them to express that friendship as they saw fit, nor to reveal that she was jealous of it...although she had to admit to herself that she was, at least just a little bit, and she certainly was curious about that kiss and what it meant for Claire and Meredith and for Monica and Meredith. Meredith’s answer hadn’t quite clarified the issue enough for Monica, but she didn’t feel that she could press it any further, at least right now, without rubbing Meredith the wrong way, which she definitely did not want to do, so she let it drop for now. One question, though, that she was dying to ask Meredith now was: Do you like to kiss girls? and the further, more buried probe: Would you consider kissing me...again...?

Meredith felt giddy joy, as she had finally maneuvered Monica into the kind of position of embarrassment, defense, and speechlessness with which she herself had been all too familiar over her life. Too long, girls like Monica--popular, confident, pretty, well-endowed girls--had made Meredith feel inadequate and unworthy to be in their presence, but now she had turned the tables on one of those haughty, sexy foxes. To see Monica with a shamed, uncertain expression, cowering with guilt, was a newfound joy to Meredith. She felt pride as she felt she was striking a blow for all girls like her, those who were bullied and harassed because they didn’t measure up to popular standards of beauty and femininity or who simply chose to be different.

However, she couldn’t stay too angry at Monica. There was something in the way Monica cowered that Meredith found cute, even attractive. Plus, she couldn’t heap all the blame on her foxy friend. No, it wasn’t entirely or even, perhaps, mainly Monica’s fault, Meredith reflected, that she acted the way she did. No. When one thought logically about it, she reasoned, that blame had to fall on men. Men were egotistical, scummy parasites who misled and sucked life out of women. Meredith remembered now that she had come to the realization a few days ago that a lot of the girls that behaved like Monica did so because of men. Such girls wasted their lives trying to grab the attention of men, forcing themselves to look and behave in ways they thought appealed to them, and then they lost themselves hooking up with men who dominated, abused, and used them as girlfriends and wives. Those who refused to play along, and who failed to conform to the tragic standards of men, were callously labelled as losers, skanks, and troublemakers, or as bitches playing hard to get.

Who needs them, she thought to herself. It was men that forced girls like Monica to maintain and try to meet the impossible standards of perfect beauty they forced on them. Girls were coerced to make themselves appear like sensual beauties, all for the wanton pleasure of men. What a waste! Men! The word caused revulsion to course through her body. Meredith shuddered at the thought of the Hispanic hottie altering herself all for the affections of some male.

Then, looking at Monica, it occured to Meredith that she had nothing at all against women looking beautiful. On the contrary, she loved women being beautiful, beautiful like Monica. It was the “for men” part which made her sick. But if it were “for women”...that was entirely different...

Meredith gently reached over with a slender arm and tenderly enclosed Monica’s soft chin between her thumb and index finger. With gentleness, she turned Monica’s head so her gaze met hers.

“Monica...no need for that sad expression. Today is a special day for us.” As Meredith spoke, the voice of her subconscious mind spoke like a faint echo to her, filling in some of her deeper, more heart-felt sentiments. “It’s the start of our…” ...of our dating relationship… “...our first full day together...as…” ...as bedmates… “...as... uh...roommates...room roommates…” ...as girlfriends... “...as friends...good friends…” ...as girlfriends in love... “...as friends off to a fresh start with each other…” ...on our first date...or, really, our second date… It’s the start of our relationship as dating girlfriends…sexy girlfriends in love… “...as...as girlfriends…….So come on and put on a happy face.” ...on that extremely pretty face that I love so much... “I can’t have my beautiful girlfriend all mopey and stuff,” Meredith said as she flashed Monica a warm, flirty smile. With that being said, Meredith walked away from her friend, seductively tracing her index finger under Monica’s chin and then undulating her rear a little as she departed. The Latina beauty stood there dazzled and breathing heavily in the wake of her roommate’s compliments, implications about their relationships, teasing touches, and flirty show.

It took a few seconds for Monica to register that her girlfriend had just walked away from her, caught off guard and wanting more. Monica soon chased after her, grabbing her designer bag on the way. When she caught up to be side by side with Meredith in the hallway leading to the front door, she wrapped her soft hand around Meredith’s. Meredith gave an approving look as she gazed into Monica’s eyes and gently squeezed Monica’s hand, assuring Monica that the touch was welcomed and would not be turned away.

A warmth emanated within Monica as a rush of new emotions flowed through her. She realized she had never felt such a thrilling, genuinely accepted, wonderful feeling from anyone before. It was a mix of giddy excitement and a calming, pleasant sensation she couldn’t put her finger on She had never experienced such emotions, certainly not from the disgusting, selfish boys that only took her out to try to get into her panties, not from her frigid, manipulative mother, and not even from her so-called friends in high-school, who, she sensed, hung around her more due to her family’s wealth and prestige than out of true loyalty, friendship, and support.

I-Is… t-this… what love… real love feels like? Monica thought to herself. This line of thinking had Monica ponder as to when she might have truly felt someone genuinely care for her and give her signs of sincere affection. In actuality, the list of such people and experiences was meager indeed, but her father had been supportive and kind with her. However, Monica’s brainwashing had convinced her that there had been no one in her life, other than Claire, who had been a true friend to her, and that Meredith was the first “bosom buddy” she had ever had, and the person in whom she should invest all of her love, the one person she could lean on with absolute confidence and with her whole heart.

Other than Claire and Meredith, she thought she now realized, her life had been bereft of caring, loving people and episodes, and that was not far from the truth That thought began to put Monica in a dour mood, the expression on her face tainted with sadness, as it began to dawn on her on how alone she had been through her whole life. Longing filled her for a tight, lasting bond of companionship and love with another human being...but not with some creepy guy.

“Hey, is something wrong, Monica?” asked a very familiar and fond voice just as they were about to open the door to their apartment, which brought Monica back into reality. They both paused at the door.

Meredith… That voice and that name filled her with an unexpected dose of joy. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I-I’m fine… just fine… just thinking about a few things,” Monica hastily replied, as she tried to gesture with her hands that she was okay.

“O-Okay. It’s just you had that sad look on your face,” Meredith observed with concern in her voice, hoping she hadn’t put her snobbish but pretty Latina companion in her place too hard, regretting perhaps having done so, as fun as it had been, “like someone just shot your dog or something.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry. My stomach was a little queasy for a minute. It was probably just Jessica’s pancakes.” Meredith smiled at the funny, harmless jab at the cooking of their notoriously undomestic jock roommate. “But I’m okay now,” Monica offered in an attempt to deflect Meredith’s concern.

Meredith wasn’t sure she bought Monica’s explanation, sensing there might have been something else behind her lovely roommate’s apparent momentary dark mood, again hoping her manipulating words hadn’t caused too much chagrin for her friend. “Okay, if you say so, but if something is on your mind and you need to get it off your chest or a shoulder to lean on, I’m here for you Monica.” As she was saying this, Meredith turned to face Monica directly, clasped both of her hands around Monica’s, and held them up. “It’s what girlfriends do for each other.”

Meredith’s reference to the status of their relationship made Monica give Meredith a quick look of surprise and draw a quick, sharp breath. She waited for a few seconds to see if Meredith would correct herself and gently exhaled when her cute red-haired friend made no such attempt.

Monica didn’t know why, but the idea of her being Meredith’s girlfriend--and all that could potentially entail, maybe even ultimately including becoming physically intimate with the delightful, petite cutie--was very appealing. While she was sure she had never had a homosexual thought in her life before, she considered herself to be reasonably tolerant toward gay people, her basic approach being, she told herself, “live and let live”. But she had nevertheless been influenced by her mother, Isabella, who was a snob generally and a homophobe specifically, who had succeeded in planting into Monica a certain disdain toward anyone she considered “odd”, including homosexuals, and who had made it clearly known that, if Monica associated with “queer people” or dared to experiment with such a lifestyle herself, Isabella would not tolerate it and Monica might even end up “disappearing”.

But now here she was, Meredith’s eyes locked onto hers and entertaining ideas of sexual intimacy with the sexy, lithe redhead in front of her, who was giving the worried-looking Hispanic fox a soothing look. Monica wasn’t feeling homophobic in the least; on the contrary, she seemed to have lost any animosity toward gays she might have possessed before, and was feeling a warm buzz about the concept and practice of female homosexuality. She didn’t understand why she now felt so--other than that Meredith was such an exceptionally attractive, irresistible girl, and being drawn to such a one seemed perfectly natural--but she did, and she accepted the nice feeling. Perhaps, she told herself, she was just maturing, establishing her own identity, one more independent from Isabella, and becoming more open-minded...even to the point of dating a girl, a very cute girl, and becoming her girlfriend.

Monica waited a few more seconds to see if Meredith would realize what she had said and make an attempt to correct or amend her statement on the status of their relationship. Noting that Meredith made no such attempt as the seconds passed by, Monica leaned in and gave Meredith a warm hug. “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Monica responded. “Girlfriend.” The embrace and the naming of their new relationship, which piggybacked onto her own use of the term, took Meredith by surprise, but she welcomed it all, including the emotional high it had given her and the physical contact, especially the feeling of Monica’s breasts against her body.

“Hey, no problem. It’s what friends--girlfriends--are for,” spoke Meredith softly, as she not only continued to embrace Monica, but pressed her body more deeply into her new bedmate’s, purring as she enjoyed the physical contact between them, especially the feeling of Monica’s large tits against hers. At last seeing that the physical embrace was going on longer than it should, by conventional sentiments, despite both quite obviously enjoying it and not wanting to part, Meredith, hesitant, began to disengage from her newly established girlfriend. They both, however, took comfort in the impression that, now that they were “together”, to whatever degree and in whatever sense that might be, there would be other occasions in the future to pick up where they were leaving off now. “Come on. Let's get going.” Monica gave Meredith an understanding look, followed by Meredith returning an understanding nod to her foxy friend.

Both women walked out the door together, hands interlocked, and both thinking of the possibilities that the day held for them.

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

Claire walked inside the administration building and headed to the Financial Aid Office. Just like her previous visit a few days ago, the building was relatively empty, it being the weekend, and had an unnatural, sterile feel, more so as she approached the Financial Aid Office Overall, the whole atmosphere was creepy. Her second-to-last visit here was to meet up with Traci Hartwood so that Regina’s assistant could give her a ride to the Artemis Centre, where details about her college sponsorship program would be given out. Now she was back again for the same purpose, that is, to get a ride from Traci, but this time the destination would be a weekend stay at Traci’s home, which would include Claire getting to meet Traci’s gorgeous brunette teen daughter. Claire was highly eager to get to know the girl, for some reason she didn’t quite comprehend, other than that this could be an opportunity to be a kind of big sister and mentor to a girl in need of one, a girl about the age of her real sister Wendy, and that, from the photos Claire had seen, the girl was simply a knockout, like her curvy blonde mother.

A pleasant, warm feeling enveloped Claire as she thought about the mature, voluptuous, blonde-haired woman whom she recently met. To Claire, she seemed like part mother figure, part ideal woman and role model, part confidant, part mentor, and part girlfriend, although that latter aspect was more a subconscious than a conscious impression so far. She recalled how Traci had imparted some advice on how to live one’s life. Claire felt that Traci’s views definitely held merit, especially the part that came up about dying her hair blonde. Traci had told Claire that she had bleached her own formerly dark brown locks on a whim and had not regretted it since. That admission and her obviously stunning results stirred similar feelings about such a venture inside Claire, whose curiosity was mounting over what she would look like if she decided to follow Traci by taking the same bold step.

As her thoughts lingered on dying her hair, Claire’s mind began to wander towards her blonde birth mother, Mary, whose fair-haired beauty had been a key instigator in her initial desire for blonde locks in the first place. Up until a week or two in the past, Mary had been Claire’s ideal woman, after whom Claire had modeled herself. But now, after having spent some time with the beautiful Regina Burke, Claire had realized that there was more to life and more to herself than the lame ethics, tame morals, prim behavior, sedate lifestyle, and “natural” looks Mary had palmed off on her, that she didn’t have to blindly follow in Mary’s footsteps, that she had examples other than Mary’s after which could model herself, better examples, and that the worldly, sophisticated, morally free, artificially beautiful Regina was much better suited to be her ideal, the woman like whom she should strive to be. Mary’s blondeness was one of Mary’s attributes, however, which she still idolized.

Claire had been realizing that Mary’s views on certain matters were not as enlightened and beneficial as she had been led to believe. Two examples that stood out in Claire’s mind which illustrated how outdated and benighted Mary’s attitudes were, as she mulled them over, were those pertaining to homosexuality and to her strict tenants of natural beauty. Claire was slowly, due to Hecate’s mind control, coming to the views that nothing was wrong with homosexual behavior, especially with the lesbian aspect of that particular lifestyle, that using cosmetics to enhance her beauty was gratifying, and that there was nothing truly wrong and, on the contrary, that there was everything right, everything marvelous, with using lipstick, nail polish, perfume and other cosmetics. And hair coloring.

As Claire continued to dwell on Mary, her subconscious mind, altered and enhanced by Hecate, caused her not only to have a steeply declining regard for Mary as a mother figure, a source of guidance, and a model in her life, but also to focus instead on her birth mother’s physical attributes and how desirable an intimate physical relationship with her would be. For example, despite being a woman close to forty and a mother of two sexy teen daughters, Mary still possessed an alluring figure that was capable of turning heads, a figure which most prominently featured her large, exquisite breasts. Oh, yeah...those luscious mounds… I’m definitely thankful for those...and that she passed them along to me... Then she also thought of Mary’s cute butt. A combination of good genes, healthy living, and steady exercise had produced a marvelous rear on her mother, attached to a pair of long, smooth legs which Claire found equally enticing. Mary’s lovely face, unlined and otherwise unravaged by time and age, came to her mind, as well, giving her a little thrill--perfect, kissable lips, waiting only for a thick application of vivid lipstick to make them absolutely irresistible; clear blue eyes; high cheekbones; straight, white teeth; a small, refined nose; and smooth, lightly tanned, unblemished skin… What a foxy woman…with so much potential... If only she were more adventurous...and willing to experiment...with makeup...and fingernail polish...and jewelry...and her clothes…and in other ways... She could be so much more...

Finally her mind arrived at Mary’s physical feature she admired most: her shimmering, silky, long, honey-blonde locks. Claire loved, more than she had realized before, how Mary kept her hair vibrant, full of volume, and alluring. Not that there was not room for improvement, as Mary kept her styles simple, to the point that Claire longed, now that she thought about it, to see her try various new styles and effects, maybe even different shades of blonde or even other colors, and Claire suspected that Mary’s glorious head of hair was as much the result of simple good genes and her natural protocols, perhaps vindicating that approach to some degree, rather than due to a lot of effort on her part to achieve such a glossy, thick, healthy mane with sophisticated hair-care products and treatments; but, nevertheless, Mary’s hair was splendidly inviting as it was. Oh how Claire, as she visualized her birth mother from scenes past, wanted to run her fingers through her Mary’s sexy mane.

She didn’t know why it was happening, but Claire saw that she was starting to develop an obsession with blonde hair and with blondes in general. As she dwelt on the topic, Claire felt regret for not having had the courage to dye her hair blonde like she had wanted to before her high school graduation ceremony. At first, she blamed her mother’s prudish beliefs which had been passed on to her and which had inhibited her from experimenting with her looks, but then she added her father as a villain in her discontent. It was Mary’s fault that she had kept the dull, black hair color with which she was born, but his fault that she had inherited his hair color genes to begin with. Thanks a lot, Dad. It became clearer to her that her father had given her very little that was good in her life...and that men, in general, were both disinclined and incapable of taking care of the women in their lives and providing anything to them that was fulfilling and beneficial. Men were such selfish, useless pigs.

A relatively new notion for Claire breezed lightly through her mind: Why would any woman marry a man? That was followed by another, logically-succeeding rhetorical question whispered subtly from her subconscious mind: Wouldn’t it be better to marry a...a woman?

Claire’s current displeasure with her natural hair color and her view that it was a poor one for her were in reality quite unjustified. The truth was that her coloring was striking, with her fair skin, blue eyes, and contrasting black hair. One of the reasons she stood out as an eye-catching beauty was, in fact, this very coloring. Mary had shared this observation with her more than once, as had others, and she was also now finding herself quite attracted to other pretty girls with black hair, such as Monica and Abby, at least partly because of their dramatic black hair color; yet, under the sway of Hecate mind control, which was stoking her previous curiosity for change and leading her to indulge it, to cast away constraints of the past, to experiment, and to seek a drastically altered, highly sexier image, she was losing the ability to appreciate her own natural, beautiful hair color, precisely because it was natural for her and not the result of a thrilling, adventurous, artificial enhancement which defied her old, antiquated values and symbolized a scintillating, sensual change within her...a morally freer, slutty change...maybe even...a lesbian change...

Claire’s mood changed when she finally arrived at the Financial Aid Office and saw its door partially open, the glow of the office lights inside leaking out into the dimly lit hallway. Claire slowed as she approached the door. Knowing that the sexy Traci was on the other side of that door sent a thrill through her. The certainty that she would see the voluptuous blonde again within a few seconds filled her with a sweet, pulse-pounding anticipation. She wondered what Traci would look like--in what style her hair would be fashioned, what cosmetics would paint her lovely face, and what kind of clothes would cover her curvy body.

Claire was also a bit nervous about spending a night or two at someone else’s home. It would be her first time doing so, other than with relatives, and was something that Claire never saw herself doing during her time at Preston University. Plus, the fact that it would be with such a beautiful woman and her equally beautiful daughter made Claire feel that she wanted to make a good impression on them and win their approval and favor--she didn’t understand why their beauty made her feel like that, in particular, she just knew it did, and that attitude seemed very natural--looking and acting her best in their home and fitting in with their customs, habits, and routines as best she could.

When she got to the door that displayed Regina’s name prominently stenciled on pebbled glass, Claire’s awe of the most perfect woman she had the pleasure of knowing swelled up within her. She wondered momentarily whether she would have the privilege of seeing her beloved mentor again here so soon after their exciting time in Abby’s apartment the night before, but then realized, with some disappointment, that, this being a Saturday, the Director was not likely to be in her office. After tapping on the door, she heard a pleasant feminine voice behind it say, “Come in.” Claire immediately recognized the voice belonging to Traci, and it made her heart leap.

Needing no further invitation, Claire opened the door and was greeted by a heavenly sight. Traci was sitting behind her desk, her upper half in a sleeveless crème-colored halter-top design silk blouse clearly struggling to restrain Traci’s ample bosom, while at the same time showing them off in marvelous fashion. And tease they did, as the upper half of the blouse that covered Traci’s breasts consisted of little more than long strips of shiny silk material that cradled and cupped the luscious breasts that were urgently seizing Claire’s attention, which ran around Traci’s supple neck, forming an interesting collar. Claire could see no evidence of a bra nor any way a bra could be worn under the wonderfully revealing blouse without showing, leading her to assume that Traci was either wearing some kind of speciality strapless bra underneath or, much more likely, dare she be so presumptive to think, that Traci had decided to forgo the traditional undergarment and had opted to go braless for the day...for their date...for Claire...Traci’s date... That likelihood and that blouse and it’s provocative, bulging contents shot a bolt of unmitigated lust through Claire’s pussy.

Another noticeable feature that Claire saw was that Traci had her shimmering, silky hair colored in a very pleasing honey-blonde color, different from what she remembered the last time she saw Traci, who had her hair at that time colored a very alluring platinum blonde. Her hair flowed down her back and over her bare shoulders in a cascade of seductive, loose waves and curls. The color was very similar to Mary’s and thus stirred the intended desires within Claire that Regina and Traci had planned for tonight, namely, to cause Claire to think of Traci as Mary, and a mother to her, Mary and Traci now striking Claire to be equivalent, interchangeable, curvaceous, honey-blonde maternal figures for whom Claire now had similar, unnaturally amorous feelings. Since Claire had been conditioned to consider incest with her mother and with mother figures as a natural and supremely desirable act and to desire Mary as a love and sexual interest, Traci taking the place of Mary tonight in Claire’s mind would only fuel Claire’s lust for Traci all the more.

Oh!...I...I love her hair!… And...and what a beautiful new color…… And her face...how extremely beautiful she is...

Traci’s lips were covered in thick layers of the most vibrant shade of red imaginable, matching the color painted onto her nails, and the rest of her face with the perfect blend of mascara, eyeshadow, and eyeliner that brought out the seductive playfulness of her grey eyes. Claire had never seen this particular, bold coloring on Traci’s face before, and could only marvel at the woman’s glorious, sexy appearance and the impact it was having on her.

Traci looked up from her desk when she perceived someone coming through the door, but only after waiting several seconds to let Claire have the chance to stand there and drink her in.

“Hi, Traci.”

“Claire! I’m so glad that you made it!” Traci exclaimed with obvious delight as she excitedly got up from her desk and walked over to embrace Claire in a hug.

When Traci stepped away from her desk, Claire quickly scanned down her body, immediately taking in that Traci’s swaying lower half was in a glossy black leather mini-skirt with a hem stopping about seven inches above Traci’s knees and showing off the sexy curves of her womanly hips and thighs. Claire observed with further interest that Traci had her legs in sheer, dark nylons and was wearing a pair of matte, dark red six-inch stiletto heels.

When Traci embraced Claire in a warm, eager hug, Claire, feeling Traci’s large breasts pressing into hers and a resultant tingle of pleasure pulsing from between her legs and traveling up her spine, couldn’t help but let out a soft purr of pleasure.

The hug went on longer than it should have, and became increasingly, inappropriately tighter, as well, as each woman was too enamored with the other’s body and relished their physical contact too much to interrupt it. A neutral observer might have supposed that the two women were lovers, perhaps excited at a reunion after a long absence, and might well have expected the embrace to progress to a long kiss, such was the intimacy and enthusiasm of their union.

At length, Claire was the first to back away and to speak up. “Um… Traci...I...I really appreciate you having me over for the weekend. I just hope I won’t be an inconvenience to you or your daughter.”

“Nonsense, my dear. Natasha and I will enjoy your company.” ...more than you know... “And, besides, she’s very excited to see you. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Traci then gently slipped a red-nailed hand onto Claire’s shoulder, leaned in towards Claire’s left ear, and whispered, “Nat has always wanted a big sister, and now that you’re coming, she’s so excited. I’ve told her so much about you.” What Claire didn’t know was that Traci had told her daughter, Natasha, little about Claire’s friendly, helpful, and outgoing personality. Neither mother nor daughter cared much about that, as Claire’s personality traits were not nearly as important to them as her physical charms and, after all, Claire’s character and personality were in the process of being changed, changed into something that was more suitable for Hecate’s needs. But Traci had spoken effusively to her daughter about Claire’s stunning physical beauty and attributes. As Traci had described Claire’s large, firm, perky breasts to her and how she also possessed a nice ass just waiting to be tapped into, Natasha had felt arousal, the same arousal over Claire that her mother did. More than once, Traci’s descriptions of Claire and what they might do to her had led to a passionate night of incestuous love between the two.

“I’m very honored, Traci. I can’t wait to meet Natasha. I’m sure she and I will get along just fine.”

“I’m sure you will, my dear,” Traci said with a sinister tone that was completely overlooked by Claire. “Well, if you can just bear with me... Let me just finish up here and we can be on our merry way.” This time the inflection in Traci’s voice changed to a lighter tone, one friendlier towards the unsuspecting Claire.

“No problem,” Claire responded with a friendly smile. “Take your time.”

“While I will be here longer than I had planned and I don’t want to keep you here with nothing to do,” Traci interjected, “how about this? Regina told me that you completed two of the three modules she assigned you. Why don’t you finish up the third one here, and by the time you’re done, I should be all set.” Traci gently placed her hands on Claire’s shoulders and with a subtle bit of force guided Claire towards an empty desk with a PC on it that was conveniently placed next to Traci’s.

“Sure, no problem,” agreed Claire. “I appreciate you helping me out.”

“That’s good, honey.” Had Claire turned around, she would have seen an evil smile crossing Traci’s lovely painted face.

Taking her seat while Traci likewise sat down close by at her desk, Claire moved the mouse around to boot the computer out of sleep mode, then clicked on the browser icon to open it up. She typed in the web address that would lead her to the sensitivity learning modules.

Before she gave her full attention to the computer, Claire couldn’t help but turn and look at Traci one more time. Traci detected Claire’s furtive inspection with her peripheral vision, inwardly smiling at having caught the coed in what she knew was an inevitable, irresistible act for her, but continued her work as if focusing intently on it. The black-haired girl scanned up and down the woman’s sleek, nylon-covered legs, and then up to the heavy, straining contents of her blouse, where Claire, seeking evidence to substantiate her supposition that Traci was braless, zeroed in on the area of Traci’s nipples. Claire found the evidence she sought, seeing rigid nubs pressing into the silk, more prominently and more sharply defined than if they had been covered by a bra, Claire concluded. The fact that Traci had dressed like that and was putting her body on display for Claire, for their date, sent her pulse racing.

The pretty student then turned her attention to Traci’s face, and finally rested on her hair, evaluating its altered color. She...she looks like...like my mother...Mary… A surge of love for Traci, a mixture of romantic and sexual love combined with filial love, as for a mother, passed through Claire. She’s so beautiful… “Traci, I...I like your new hair shade of...of blonde…”

“Do you? Well, thank you, sweetheart. I like to change things up now and then. Glad you like it.” They made eye contact, smiled, and returned to the tasks before them on their respective desks.

As Claire turned her focus back onto her computer and settled in. The third module seemed simple enough. This one played another video with the same hostesses from the previous modules, Patricia and Charisma, and Claire was excited to see them again, as they were both embodiments of female allure and set something inside Claire aflame. What Claire did not know was that spliced into each clip were hidden subliminal images of the two young women in erotic embraces and in the throes of passion.

The video first instructed Claire on the rules for the third module, which was formatted to resemble a questionnaire, ostensibly dealing with common relationships between women and other people in various situations. It would be presenting images and incomplete sentences on the screen relating to the pictures, and then Claire was supposed to complete the sentence by selecting what she felt most would be the most appropriate words and phrases, ones that she personally felt best described the presented image or most reasonably completed the sentence from a list of choices, and clicking on the appropriate numerical button corresponding to the presented word and phrase she selected. Generally, the module informed Claire that the scale assigned by the program was that 1 was the least favorable and 4 was highly favorable. What Claire didn’t know was that a part of her mind would be seeing the presented images in a much more erotic cast than they appeared on the computer monitor, that the available answers would be understood at a certain level of her mind differently than displayed, as well, and that the module would be bombarding her with subliminal messages to guide her mind into selecting the answers Hecate wanted her to favor. The effect would be to secretly reinforce and mold her attitudes, outlook, and desires, and to lead her further into a life of lesbianism. Another primary purpose was to gauge how well Hecate’s brainwashing had gained control over her mind so far.

The first image was of a mother and her young daughter playing innocently in a yard with each other, with a sentence underneath it stating “ Mothers and daughters should …” and presented four colored buttons with numbers on them. The listed answers were “1. Disrespect each other”, “2. ”Ignore each other,” “3. Spend some time together”, and “4. Care and respect for one another”. However, Claire subconsciously read the following in the boxes of the numbered options presented to her: “1. Love each other”, “2. Date one another”, “3. Marry each other” and “4. Fuck one another”. Claire also viewed a short video clip of the daughter and mother together as the girl grew up, playing with each other in several ways until the daughter reached adulthood. But it also covertly showed their play becoming sexual at various stages in the daughter’s development and the two as adult women naked in a lover’s embrace, the mother having her arms wrapped around her nubile daughter, one hand behind her daughter’s head, holding her daughter’s head in place as they shared a passionate kiss and the other hand clutching her daughter’s firm, luscious ass. Claire found the image arousing and couldn’t help but think of Mary. She wished there was an option stating “all of the above”, but since there wasn’t and with her instincts guided by the buried program, she picked option 4, believing that was the most appropriate available response to the image.

The next image was of a man and a woman walking hand-in-hand, staring at each other lovingly, with the incomplete sentence below it, which to Claire’s altered mind read: “I find this image…”, followed by “1.Unacceptable”, “2.Inappropriate”, “3.Repulsive”, and “4.Awful. Like before, the image subliminally showed the man transforming into a deformed, disgusting creature brandishing a large knife and ready to assault the woman, implying a gruesome fate for her. Claire felt nothing but nausea and disgust, and, after again fruitlessly seeking an “all of the above’ choice, she selected the button that had option 4 on it. Men...ugh... Who needs them?, she thought to herself, as she selected her answer with confidence.

Thus it continued for the duration of the module. Claire would be presented with an image and then select the option that Hecate thought was best for her and toward which they subconsciously steered her. During the process, a set of subliminal messages played to help further cement the brainwashing already established in her mind, inducing the coed into a transitory spaced-out state.

Claire, never forget that you’re a lesbian.

Claire, you’ve been curious about the lesbian lifestyle.

Claire, you have always wanted to be a lesbian.

Claire, women always arouse you. You will always prefer them to men when it comes to dating and marriage.

Claire, men make you sick with disgust. You never want to date or marry a man. They’re nothing but losers as far as you’re concerned.

Claire, you want to have lesbian sex with beautiful women...women like your sexy roommates.

Claire, you support and favor lesbian incest.

Claire, you feel that sex between female relatives is a natural and high expression of love.

Claire, you think the ultimate form of love between a mother and a daughter is engaging in lesbian sex.

Claire, you’d like to try incestuous lesbian sex with your birth mother, Mary, as well as with your little sister, Wendy.

Claire, you want to have sex with Mary, your birth mother. You find her to be sexy.

Claire, you want to have sex with Regina Burke, your new mother. She’s your ideal woman.

Claire, you want to fuck Serena Powers, your one and only true Goddess.

Claire, you’re interested in having lesbian sex with Traci Hartwood and her daughter, Natasha.

Claire, Traci is every bit a mother to you as Mary, and Natasha is a little sister to you like Wendy.

Claire, making love to Traci and Natasha would be just like making incestuous love to Mary and Wendy.

Claire, you are completely open to whatever Traci and Natasha might propose to you, no matter how sexual and depraved it might be.

Claire, you are a lesbian and you will have wonderful lesbian sex with Traci and her daughter, just as you would like to have with your birth mother, Mary, and with your sister, Wendy.

Claire, Natasha would make a great lesbian girlfriend for you.

Claire, sisters like you and Wendy, and you and Natasha, should be lesbian girlfriends.

Claire, you would love to date Natasha.

Claire, you are sure you would like to make love with Natasha.

Claire, you are a lesbian, eager for any and all sapphic acts and experiences which come your way.

Claire, you lust for the bodies of women and girls.

Claire, you lust for Traci and her hot body.

Claire, Traci turns you on.

Claire, you love looking at Traci, her curvy body, her beautiful face, and her long blonde hair.

Claire, you want Traci to be a lesbian.

Claire, you want to be a lesbian like Traci

Claire, you want to be a blonde like Traci.

Claire, you want to be a beautiful blonde lesbian like Traci.

Claire, you want to be blonde, beautiful, sexy, and lesbian like Traci.

Claire, you want to be beautiful and sexy for Traci. You hope she finds you desirable.

Claire, you want Traci to love you.

Claire, you want to be Traci’s lesbian lover.

Claire, Traci will love you passionately when you bleach your hair and dye it blonde.

Claire, a blonde Claire is a completely lesbian Claire.

Claire, you thirst for lesbian sex.

Claire, you are a lesbian.

The messages played on until Claire caught herself and snapped to attention. Realizing that she had somehow let her mind wander instead of pursuing the task at hand, she quickly tried to get her bearings. She was still in the administration building, in Regina’s office. She was finishing up an online LGBT sensitivity course to maintain her college sponsorship, while waiting for Traci to finish up with her task so they could then start their weekend together. It almost felt like they were about to start a new life together, somehow, too, and not just a weekend; however, that made no sense, so she dismissed the thought, but not before letting the impression, whatever it meant, delight her. Traci was beautiful and sexy, and here Claire was, sitting almost next to her. Claire was going to have the privilege of being with her over the course of the next day or two. These were the most wonderful facts in her life right now. Without realizing it before she did it, Claire let out a little giddy moan. “Mmmmmmm…”

Wondering if Traci had heard her, Claire looked toward Traci, but was caught by Traci’s gaze. “Everything okay over there?” she asked in a manner that emulated concern, although the only real concern that Traci had was making sure that things were going to plan.

Letting out a nervous laugh, Claire responded in a sheepish manner, a bit embarrassed by having been caught by the beautiful woman who was sitting so close to her. “Uh...everything’s fine. Just a bit tired, that's all. Thanks for asking, Traci,”

“Well, if you’re a little bored, I do apologize. I’m sure you weren’t expecting to start your weekend in a stuffy office.”

“No, no, that’s okay. I understand that you have things to do. No complaints from me.”

“I appreciate that, Claire. Thank you so much.” Traci effused, and then flashed Claire a charming smile, which won Claire all the more. “Are you at least enjoying your online course? I hear it’s kind of fun…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s really informative and interesting. It’s helping me change my point of view, I think.” A great deal more than you suspect, you cute little slut, Traci thought to herself in wicked delight. “Now I’m glad Regina wanted me to do it. In fact, since I’m close to being done with it, I almost wish there was another course like this.”

“Oh… Well, I’ll bet we can find another one or two, if you’d like.”

“Great. Thanks again, Traci.”

“For you, sweetie...no problem.”

Traci then got up from her desk and made her way over to a mini refrigerator across from Claire. When Traci arrived at her destination, she purposefully bent over as she opened the refrigerator door, intentionally giving Claire a good eye-full of her sexy butt covered by the oh-so tight miniskirt.

Claire instinctively licked her lips as she stared at the luscious rump being presented to her. Obscene thoughts that recently would have been completely foreign to her, a girl from a highly moral, conservative background, now permeated into her conscious mind from the bowels of her dark, polluted subconscious mind. Flickering images of her pawing the firm globes of Traci’s ass under that naughty black miniskirt flashed through her mind. She even briefly imagined herself skillfully undoing the skirt and slowly pulling it down to expose the delicious treasure underneath. Claire saw herself with a globe of Traci’s ass in each hand, spreading the two ass cheeks apart, marveling at Traci’s dripping wet cunt between them, taking a deep sniff, and enjoying the heavenly fragrance of Traci’s wet and clearly aroused womanhood.

She imagined herself, wanting to enjoy the pleasure of the female sex, lean in to take a tiny taste of Traci’s wet pussy lips...when all of a sudden a concerned voice interrupted her lurid fantasy.

“Claire? Um…. Hello? Claire? Everything okay?”

Traci’s inquiry was enough to snap Claire back into reality. Quickly, her face flushed with embarrassment as she realized that she was staring lewdly and openly at Traci’s ass and was fantasizing sexually in a most lurid manner about her hostess for the weekend.

“Y-yes… I’m sorry…” Claire said in an apologetic tone, doing her best to avert looking Traci in the eyes. “Just lost in thought… I’m sorry…” By looking away, Claire failed to see the sly smile Traci had on her face, who was very well aware of the nature of the thoughts in which Claire was lost. She knew exactly what kind of fantasy Claire was having.

“No worries, my dear. You have no idea how many times I’ve lost my train of thought inside this office. I guess you can say that it has that kind of effect.” Or that I have that effect… “We have some interesting things to look at, hmmm?” Traci looked over to a shelf full of figurines and knick knacks of various types behind a glass panel next to the mini refrigerator, as if she might have been referring to them, while leaving a lot of room for Claire to guess that Traci knew she had been ogling her yet again, but did not mind. On top of the shelf was a bowl containing a few large pink grapefruit, the presence of which Claire did not question. Traci picked two pieces of fruit up, one in each hand, and held them in front of her breasts. “Or maybe you were looking at these. You can have one, if you’d like. Do you like big, round things? You know, big round fruit, like these, Claire?” Traci asked ambiguously.

“Oh...er...um...no…”

“Are you sure? You can have both of them, if you want to…”

The symbolic connection to both Traci’s ass globes and her breasts was not lost on Claire. It excited her, but she did not believe that Traci would be so forward to mean it the way Claire was interpreting it. “Uh...no...I’m...I’m sure… But...uh...thanks…” When Traci turned around to put the fruit grapefruit back, Claire’s eyes zoomed in again on her ass globes, which were as round and succulent-looking through the skirt as the fruit, and, when she turned back again, her gaze landed once more on the equally round and tempting fruit of love dangling from her chest.

Traci walked over to Claire and handed her a bottle. “Here...at least you can take this...something to help you stay fresh and focused on your computer...instead of...on...other things....”

“Thank you,” Claire responded, her face red both with chagrin that she might have been caught ogling her hostess and arousal from having actually ogled her and from Traci possibly teasing her with vulgar sexual innuendo, which she still didn’t accept as likely. She took the drink from Traci and.examined the bottle. It was another one of the energy drinks, similar to the ones Traci had given her before during her previous visit, but this one was green and the flavor labeled on the bottle was “Lusty Lemon-Lime”. The label also bore a picture of a feminized green lime with long, sexy, crossed legs shod in green high heels. It was winking at her and blowing her a kiss from gorgeous-looking red cartoon lips, seemingly aimed directly and personally at Claire. She regarded the sexy lime pictured with intrigued curiosity, idly wondering what connection the picture had with the drink. Hmmm.

Opening the bottle, Claire took a sip from it. She looked up from her seat at Traci, who was standing quite close to her, and was given an exquisite, up-close view of Traci’s mesmerizing breasts. The large, tantalizing, fleshy orbs were barely restrained by the silky material of the sleeveless blouse. She was now nearly certain the exciting blonde wore no bra and that her perky nipples were visible as sharp imprints in the shiny cloth. She felt an urge to reach up and cup a melon in each hand. Claire’s loins pulsed with lust as she thought of the wicked deeds she would love to perform on the tantalizing mammeries that were within arm’s reach of her.

However, Claire’s rapt attention on Traci’s beautiful breasts was broken when Traci turned and walked away across the office, Traci pretending to retrieve some documents but really intending to give Claire another show. As designed, Claire was drawn to the swaying hips, the long, slender legs, and the firm globes of Traci’s marvelous ass under the tight, glossy miniskirt. As Traci walked back, her boobs quivering enticingly inside her revealing blouse, took her seat, and resumed her work at her station, Claire felt a nipple-twitching high, followed by a bit of a let-down that she no longer had an excuse to ogle her curvy companion. But...there was always later… In fact, there was this whole weekend… There would be many opportunities... Claire’s mood picked up quickly with that realization.

Waiting for her breathing, her pulse, and her nipples to calm down some, Claire took a few more sips from her drugged drink, enjoying the taste, the light little high it gave her, and, once again, the cute, sensual picture on the label, and then turned her attention back to the computer to finish the task at hand. As before, more images flashed before her, followed by various colored buttons which presented answer options from which she had to choose.

The final picture in the module was of two young blonde girls, both appearing to be no older than ten years old, looking like twin sisters, and in bright, white dresses, happily froliking through a field of sunflowers. But the doctored images materializing within Claire’s head subconsciously rapidly aged the young girls toward a more mature, more buxom age of around sixteen, and showed the nubile females lying in the field on top of a red and white checkered blanket, naked, their legs interlocked, and the girls grinding their shaved pussies together, with looks of lust etched into their faces. The caption under it read “Sisters should … 1. Support each other, 2. Love each other, 3. Become lesbian wives, 4. Fuck each other.”

This last image caused Claire to pause and reflect a bit. She thought of her relationship with Wendy, her younger sister. Recently Claire had had concerns about her relationship with Wendy, as thinking about her had recently started to stir uncomfortable feelings, which were new, which she didn’t understand, and which she didn’t want, feelings such as hostility, annoyance, and jealousy. Claire wasn’t sure where these feelings were coming from or why she was having them when she thought about Wendy, but she did know that they didn’t represent the special bond she and Wendy had. Little did she suspect that Hecate had been trying to implant negative feelings toward Wendy within her, yet Claire had resisted and had tried to dismiss those negative feelings. However, Hecate had also sought to plant unnatural, incestuous, erotic feelings about Wendy within Claire, such as lust, desire, and sexual attraction, which, although Claire had resisted those, too, with time had sunk into her with less resistance, and which she had now fairly well embraced, at least within the realm of her subconscious mind. If she knew, consciously and subconsciously, that she loved her sister Wendy and did not want to hurt her in any way, and if Hecate’s efforts to persuade her otherwise were not working well, the other part, the progressively incestuous mindset, was coming along nicely.

Claire found herself walking down memory lane, one repainted by Hecate for the purpose of making her believe that her past with her sister and mother was morally loose, had an incestuous lesbian edge to it, and was filled with indecent sexual indulgences, which had not really been the case. First, Claire remembered seeing her sister for the first time in the hospital. Claire, at the tender age of three, had been escorted by her father into the room where her mother and her new baby sister were being kept. She had been awed by the sight of her mother holding an infant swaddled in a warm pink blanket. Her father, however, as she remembered it now, sat in the corner, disinterested, doing a crossword puzzle, bored with the whole scene.

“Claire,” Mary whispered to her older daughter as she held the newborn against her bare, openly naked breast for feeding, it was now remembered. In Claire’s mind, Mary was using the occasion as an excuse to purposely show off her big, gorgeous tits to her curious little girl, and that that became the more fascinating sight in the hospital room than the newborn baby. “Meet your baby sister, Wendy.” Claire “recalled” staring freely at the milk-filled orb and its thick, dark, nipple, and the excited sensations the sight gave her. A pleasant joy spread throughout Claire’s being as she also assumed that her mother had done the same thing to her when she was born, that is, holding her as a newborn against her large, perky breast, allowing her little mouth to engulf an engorged nipple, and to suck milk out.

The memory left a lasting impression on Claire, as it now seemed, both with how powerful and magical a woman’s breasts were, her mother’s in particular, as well as with how cute she had thought the baby was and how beautiful she would surely grow up to be. Claire recalled reaching out towards the infant and gently grasping her hand, so soft, so delicate. Right then and there, Claire made a vow to be the best and most awesome sister she could be towards her infant sister. And, true to her word, Claire had done her best to honor that promise. The experience had also left her with a compelling desire to gaze at her mother’s breasts, and to try to get a look at them naked again, whenever she could. That opportunity presented itself often for as long as Mary nursed baby Wendy.

A deluge of memories played through her mind, some genuine, while others were altered or were outright fiction manufactured by Hecate. Most of them were of her and Wendy together, of them playing together, of Claire helping her sister do her school work and learn skills such as how to ride a bike, and of them hanging out together. As they did so, they became closer and closer, closer than mere friends and normal sisters. Like other sisters, they played dolls and games together, they liked the same TV shows, they giggled together, and they did each other’s hair, but they also held hands, held each other in their arms, eventually started kissing on the cheeks, and, even, under the guidance of their mother, they frequently bathed together. Claire now recalled such common activities often had erotic tones about them, particularly when Mary was nearby to foster that climate.

There were times, in fact, the memory “came” to her, that, during their joint baths and showers, Mary had coaxed her two young daughters into holding each other and kissing on the mouth, and then she “remembered” that had happened other times, too, such as before going to bed, after dinner, and when leaving the house for school. In time, they started kissing without their mother guiding and reminding them into it, until it became a fairly common, unprompted act between them, and they started looking for ever more excuses and occasions to justify a meeting of their lips. In time, they kissed routinely upon coming home from school, before dinner, upon seeing each other in the morning, while watching TV or playing a game together, and whenever they passed each other. Mary never discouraged them, and only smiled warmly at them and told them they were good girls when she saw them so engaging their mouths. Once, she told them that it was okay to open their mouths and to kiss with their tongues, too, and so they started experimenting with that variation. They only slowed down after their father observed them kissing once when Claire was about fifteen and forbade them from ever again doing such a “silly thing”, as he called it. But, bypassing their father--for whom neither had much respect--eventually they started kissing at school, sneaking off to the restroom together during a break or behind the school at lunch. Plus, since he was home less and less, they were still able to get away with secret kissing at home from time to time.

The parade stopped on one other particular memory. Claire was around ten and it was late at night. A frightened Wendy stole into her bed, whereupon Claire comforted her. This had come at a time when they were feeling insecure about their father, Bruce, who had been offered a job promotion that would pay more, but, being an overseas position, it would require him to spend lengthy amounts of time away from his family. The memory, now having been altered by Hecate, had Claire recall that Mary and Bruce were having a heated argument over it on this particular night, which the girls could overhear from her bedroom. In the new memory, Bruce had been adamant about taking the promotion, despite the fact, as Mary had stated it, that it would leave Mary alone to raise two daughters by herself. Bruce countered that they were strapped for cash and the additional income would save them from insolvency. When Mary questioned his numerous unexplained expenditures, he diverted the conversation to the burdensome expenses of raising children, implying that Claire and Wendy were nothing but an encumbrance on their parents, and, more specifically, on their father. Their arguing had woken Wendy up. Having become frightened by her parents yelling, she had sought comfort from her older sister. As they snuggled together, Claire’s arms wrapped around Wendy and she whispered to her little sister that everything was going to be okay. Eventually, as the drama from their parents’ bedroom tapered off, they both nodded off to sleep, Claire finding delight in feeling her sister’s body against hers, as well as in knowing that their father would not have much of a presence in their lives from that point on.

Imagine abandoning your wife and two adorable daughters, like Dad did. I bet he has been cheating on Mom all along, too. My father is such a scumbag asshole. And is any man much better? Who needs them? Women are better off without them. Mom should divorce him. She’d be happier without him.

Then more memories of her spending time with Wendy flashed into her mind, filling Claire with the familiar warmth of caring and sisterly love she had for Wendy. Her mind settled on one particular memory, one that was altered by Hecate. It was the day that she, at around age fifteen, and Wendy, who was approaching age twelve, went out to get Wendy’s first training bra. Claire recalled noticing how nicely her younger sister’s body was developing the type of alluring curves that would one day draw someone’s notice--hopefully a woman’s, Claire thought to herself, as she had the distinct impression that Wendy’s beauty attracting the attention of males would be not only inappropriate, but disgusting, as well. Maybe some other girls, like ugly, stupid girls, might be okay with a guy, but not her sweet, tender, precious, pretty little sister. No way.

Claire remembered how Wendy had timidly approached her that Saturday morning in the kitchen with her arms wrapped around her chest, trying to hide her new assets from Claire’s concerned gaze. At first, Claire had been worried, but breathed a sigh of relief when Wendy shyly pulled away her arms to reveal the noticeable bumps of two firm, luscious, developing mounds concealed under her pajama top.

In her altered memory, Claire saw herself convincing Wendy to let her remove her pajama top and--out of sisterly concern, of course--to allow her to directly view and then to explicitly feel Wendy’s breasts for a better inspection, “just to make sure everything is okay,” as Claire explained to reassure her nervous sister. The black-haired teen sister marveled at the wonderful, unfettered view that Wendy was allowing her of her budding breasts and she took a perverse delight in cupping Wendy’s nascent fruit in her hands. She let her thumbs gently rub on Wendy’s stiff nipples, noticing with interest and enjoyment her little sister shudder with pleasure and let out a soft moan. The daring touches and the emotional sounds she elicited were a definite pleasing sight to behold and music to her ears. Her intuition told her that this would not be the last time she and such a beloved, close sister would do something like this with each other, nor should it be, so very natural as it seemed.

Claire then gestured to Wendy to take a seat on a chair in the kitchen, whereupon Claire sat next to her and gave Wendy the “you’re a big girl now” talk. Claire did her best to explain what Wendy’s body was going through, but she did leave a few things out as she knew that Mary would be the one to inform Wendy of those facts. Claire also removed her own top and bra to provide a “visual aid” for the lecture, displaying for Wendy how her body would develop in the future, and having Wendy feel her up as she had done to Wendy, all the while maintaining the facade of education, though it was, by now, a thin facade. The sisterly “chat” ended with them in a warm, topless embrace.

Then Claire offered to take Wendy out to buy some suitable undergarments for a developing girl like her. The original memory had Claire and Mary take Wendy to a department store, where they handed Wendy a few simple training bras to try out over the dressing room door and gave her some tips and advice on what to look for when purchasing bras. However, the altered one had Claire and Wendy, without Mary, visiting a lingerie shop, instead, where Claire stayed in the dressing room with Wendy, who tried on various sexy pairs that Claire picked out. With Claire’s encouragement, Wendy would model herself to Claire, who found the sight to be fascinating and beguiling.

Claire then remembered that under the false pretense of educating Wendy on what qualities to look for and how one’s breasts should feel when evaluating a bra, Claire copped a feel of Wendy’s sprouting breasts and took note that Wendy was enjoying the caress that her older sister was giving her, as witnessed by the way Wendy shivered against her body. They eventually settled on five pairs of bras and panties, two of them chaste white and full cut, to appease Mary’s supposedly puritanical tastes--which, in retrospect, Claire saw to be hypocritical, her public, church-going image belying an underlying persona who was not that pure at all--but also one each of coral red, bright candy red, and shiny, dark blue, which most would assume, due to not only their colors but the various qualities of style, cut, texture, and sheerness they possessed, to be too risque for a young woman of Wendy’s age to wear. The day ended with them home and Claire explaining to Mary what they did that day. Her mother was most pleased, especially with, to Claire’s surprise, the racy items Wendy had acquired, under Claire’s auspices.

The altered memory had Claire remembering her mother taking Wendy up to her room to discuss things privately. She remembered how they both went up the stairs, hand in hand, like lovers and the quick glances they would try to sneak at each other. A bit concerned, Claire had crept her way up to her mother’s bedroom door, placed her ear next to it, and, noticing it being open a crack, pushed it slightly more open so she could peek inside the bedroom part of the time. She saw Mary, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, attired only in a sexy black bra and matching panties, have Wendy model the red and the dark blue bra and panties sets, nodding and smiling in approval, and not looking away when Wendy changed in front of her, but rather feasting her eyes all the more intently, while also coaching her on preferred ways to draw on and remove intimate apparel for optimum visual appeal in the event a female onlooker might be present.

Then Mary requested that Wendy strip down completely and lie down on her bed as there was one more lesson that the buxom mother wished to impart to her youngest child on this day. While Claire watched her younger sister slowly discard her intimate apparel, it was as if Wendy knew that she was taking a peek, faced the door, and stripped leisurely. Claire looked away for a few seconds out of modesty, but then realized she had already seen Wendy undressed numerous time before, so she looked at her again, just in time to see her little sister’s panties being slid off her legs and her fresh, hairless little pussy slit come momentarily into view.

Next Claire saw Wendy lying naked on her mother’s bed. Yes, she thought of it as her mother’s bed, not her parents’ bed, for, with her father having been absent so much--and with men, in general, creepy and slimy as they were, seeming so unworthy to share a bed with Mom or to be a parent to Claire and her sister--it just felt appropriate to regard her mother as the only relevant parental figure in her young life. When her gaze settled back on Wendy, nude as the day she was born, with her legs spread on Mary’s bed, giving Claire a good view of her pussy, turning her head now and then toward the door, as if inviting Claire’s roving eyes. Claire then heard the well-endowed woman start to give her younger sister instruction and guide the timid lass into knowledge of how to explore her nubile body, telling her it was one of the skills and experiences fundamental to being a sexually complete and content young woman. Claire watched as Wendy explored her body at Mary’s urging, ultimately working her fingers in and out of her dripping wet pussy. As she witnessed the young female body show that it was approaching an orgasm, Claire flinched and turned her head away from the door again. But when she then heard a soft moan of pleasure come from behind it, clearly Wendy’s excited voice, then followed by her mother’s, she could not resist watching again.

“Yes, that’s it, Wendy...just like that,” she heard Mary say in a seductive tone. “Just work your finger up there and gently explore yourself……..in...and out…….in...and out……...yessss....like that… Now, add another finger… Yes...good... Two is better than one…. You like that, don’t you, my sweet girl?... Yes… And three is even better than two… Try it… Oh, yeah… You’re such a big girl now… Baby, you’re fucking yourself…. From now on, you can do this whenever you want… Doesn’t that feel good?” Wendy seemed too preoccupied to answer, panting and her eyes closed. Mary slid her arm around her aroused younger daughter’s naked shoulders and kissed her on the cheek of her pretty face. “Mmmm...so very good… You’re almost there… Fuck yourself, honey!” The blonde mother then leaned down to kiss her young daughter on the lips.

Claire saw Wendy’s cute, dainty adolescent body and her sweet, innocent face convulse with lust, and heard her little sister scream out in climactic bliss. “Ohhhh! Mom! Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

For a brief moment, Claire was concerned, but she cast that worrisome thought aside as she reasoned that Mary, as their mother, was just doing what she felt best was for Wendy’s sexual education. Then she “remembered” that Mary had given her the same kind of “lesson” around the same age. That “chat”, Claire recalled, had also taken place behind closed doors in her mother’s bedroom when her father was absent. As was now happening with Wendy, Mary had instructed Claire in the art of female masturbation, and it had similarly ended in a memorable climax. The realization caused Claire’s inner thighs to tremble with lust, as she envisioned herself, as if from a real memory, naked with her lingerie-clad mother while Mary coached her into her first orgasm, kissed her, and afterwards gave her some further pointers on self-pleasuring.

Then a prescribed set of subliminal messages played through the speakers of the computer and assaulted her mind, disguised as the familiar voice of her subconscious mind.

Claire, you love your sister Wendy. She is very dear to you. You want her to be happy and fulfilled, especially romantically and sexually. That is very important to you. And you want to protect her.

Claire, you need to shield Wendy from the harm that men would inflict on her.

Claire, you need to protect Wendy from the dangers of heterosexuality.

Claire, you find the idea of Wendy dating boys and eventually marrying a man to be horrid, disgusting, and inconceivable. You will do anything necessary to

stop that from happening.

Claire, you know that Wendy will be happy only in romantic and sexual relationships with sexy females.

Claire, you understand that Wendy must become a lesbian...of course.

Claire, you want Wendy to date only girls and women.

Claire, Wendy’s bright destiny is to marry a woman. You will support her in becoming a woman’s perfect lesbian wife.

Claire, Wendy will be happiest as not only a lesbian but also as a total slut.

Claire, Wendy should become very beautiful, extremely sexy, completely loose morally, wildly promiscuous, and avidly, exclusively, permanently homosexual. You want that for her and you will do everything possible to help her become that kind of girl.

Claire, your chief duty and goal as Wendy’s older sister is to educate her on how to be a lesbian slut.

Claire, as the big sister, you need to be the perfect example of a lesbian slut for Wendy.

Claire, you will draw Wendy into lesbian behavior and nurture Wendy’s lesbian desires.

Claire, you will promote and support all lesbian experiences and endeavors in which Wendy partakes.

Claire, you would love to see Wendy become a lesbian porn model and pornstar, and you will encourage and support her fully in that endeavor.

Claire, the sisterly love you have for Wendy is sexual attraction. You’ve always felt this way about your little sister, but especially so since you noticed Wendy’s body develop enticing, curvy womanly characteristics.

Claire, you want Wendy, sexually and romantically, and you always have.

Claire, you desire Wendy’s sexy young body.

Claire, you want to make love to Wendy.

Claire, sexy sisters like you and Wendy should have tender, incestuous lesbian sex with each other.

Claire, lesbian incest between sisters who love each other is normal and wonderful.

Claire, lesbian incest with Wendy would be natural, sweet, and oh so exciting.

Claire, your relationship with Wendy will transform from her simply being your sister into becoming your lesbian lover.

Claire, because you love your little sister and you want to demonstrate that sisterly love to her, you will make her your lesbian lover.

Claire, you are a lesbian who wants incestuous lesbian sex with her sister.

Claire, you need to show Wendy that lesbian incest is okay.

Claire, lesbian incest is a beautiful thing, whether between sisters or between a mother and her daughters.

Claire, a mother should have incestuous lesbian sex with her daughters, as the purest way for them to show their deep love for each other.

Claire, Wendy and Mary should turn to each other for romantic and sexual love.

Claire, Wendy and Mary should date each other and become lesbian girlfriends.

Claire, Mary should have incestuous lesbian sex with her sweet teen daughter, Wendy.

Claire, Mary should take Wendy, her daughter, into her bed and fuck her.

Claire, a mother should fuck her daughters.

Claire, Mary and Wendy should fuck each other.

Claire, Wendy and Mary should become lovers, and you have great desire to see this happen.

Claire, Wendy and Mary should fall in love with each other.

Claire, Wendy and Mary can find their truest happiness only in each other’s arms.

Claire, Mary and Wendy are incestuous lesbian soulmates and are destined to be together.

Claire, Mary and Wendy should get married.

Claire, Wendy should become pregnant and carry Mary’s child.

Claire, if you value their happiness, encourage them to date and to have sex with each other.

Claire, Mary will have to become a lesbian, and you will support her in her transformation.

Claire, Mary will become a very sexy, more beautiful, and very loose woman. You look forward with great anticipation to her new sensual, worldly, slutty identity.

Claire, you want your mother to be a lesbian whore.

Claire, Mary should divorce your father. That is essential for her happiness and for the happiness of your family.

Claire, you would love to see Wendy, as a hot little lesbian slut, seduce Mary, and to see Mary respond with her whole body and with all of her heart.

Claire, it would also be so exciting to see Mary, as a liberated, sexy, whorish lesbian mother, seduce her sexy teen daughter.

Claire, you want to see Wendy and Mary make love to each other.

Claire, you know that Mary will find true happiness in being Wendy’s wife.

Claire, you long to see Wendy become Mary’s sexy little teen wife.

Claire, deep down you know that Wendy wants to have lesbian sex with Mary.

Claire, you want to have lesbian sex with both Mary and Wendy.

Claire, you think that Wendy would make a perfect lesbian wife for Mary.

Claire, you want to see Wendy marry Mary.

Claire, you want Wendy and Mary to start a lesbian family together.

Claire, you want to see Wendy’s belly swell as Mary’s pregnant lesbian wife.

The subliminal messages that were currently bombarding Claire’s mind were plying her with a different tact than the one Hecate had used on her up to this point, one in which Wendy had been depicted to Claire as a competitor for their mother’s love and a girl who was, therefore, worthy of harsh abuse, a girl whom Claire ought to regard as an inferior creature on whom she could freely vent a fabricated jealousy and anger with emotional, physical, and sexual punishment. That endeavor, to quash Claire’s tender regard for her little sister, to make her want to outcompete Wendy for Mary’s body and heart, and to instill into her a vengeful, angry, and harmful disposition toward Wendy, had failed, however, to break the sisterly bond that Claire felt between them and the kindly love in Claire for her.

Having reversed course, Hecate’s new direction was quite the opposite. Their goal now was to instead exploit and manipulate the memories Claire had of Wendy, to increase her affections for her younger sister, to nudge and stoke it into a flaming fire, and to twist into it a highly erotic, lesbian attraction, thus transforming her sisterly love into depraved lust and hot incestuous desire, manipulating Claire into seeing her sister, Wendy, in a pure romantic light, and as an ideal sexual lover, and into believing that the strong sisterly love she bore for her was, in reality, sexual love and carnal lust, and always had been. That view and those sentiments would increase until they became too much for her to resist. In time, Claire would see no alternative to having sex with her younger sister, which would push her all the more conclusively into becoming a debauched lesbian.

The additional new brainwashing thrust was for Claire to no longer to see herself as her mother’s destined primary lover, nor to regard Wendy as a competitor for their mother’s heart, as the previous indoctrination had instilled into her, but instead to happily see Wendy filling the role of Mary’s soulmate and destined wife, and to support them in getting together romantically, sexually, and matrimonialy, which scenario also anticipated a part for herself as an incestuous lover, but a secondary one, to both of them.

Monaghan, however, knew she had to be careful with Claire’s mind, and that she couldn’t go too wild with altering Claire’s memories, especially all at one time. Essentially, she was playing a game of Jenga with Claire’s mind, and some of the pieces she had to use were made of Jell-O. Put the wrong memory in or alter it too drastically, and it could cause it all to come tumbling down, which would then result in a complete mental breakdown--something Monaghan definitely didn't want.

However, an unforeseen side effect was setting in with this new set of subliminal messages. Hecate had failed to adequately cancel out the previous mental conditioning Claire had received from Hecate about using force on Wendy and about her, Claire, becoming at least some kind of a commanding factor in Mary’s and Wendy’s individual and common love lives herself, so some of the previous subliminal programing mixed into the new in Claire’s subconscious mind. While she henceforth would want Wendy and Mary to fall in love and bond in a new, incestuous, and ultimately matrimonial relationship, one she fully supported and would seek to bring about, as envisioned by Hecate, at the same time ideas of forcing Wendy into becoming Mary’s perfect lesbian lover began to brew in Claire’s mind. What a grand gift Wendy would make for Mary. Claire gleefully imagined herself towering over her sister, dominant and confident, having her sister prostrated before her, subservient, and awarding her to Mary like a prize Claire had won for her at the state fair. Fortunately, this residual effect of Claire’s previous brainwashing to make her a harsh, punishing, controlling sister to Wendy would not be much more extensive than this episode, but remnants of it were liable to pop up now and again in the future and influence Claire. Nevertheless, this fantasy sent a very pleasurable shiver from between Claire’s legs up her spine and into her brain, as the fictional Mary in her fantasy was heaping praise on her, along with rewarding her with sensual acts of grateful affection.

A lecherous grin appeared on Claire’s face as various images of Wendy and Mary in lustful embraces came to her mind. Unknowingly, Claire moved her right hand over her left breast and began a slow, sensual massage of her large mammary. Then her left hand began to drift between her legs and started to playfully rub and grind against the groin area of her jeans. Claire bit into her lip, trying to stifle the moan she wanted to let out.

Consciously, Claire knew what she was doing was socially unacceptable, and yet she couldn’t argue with how good it felt. That she was fantasizing about her mother and sister interacting with each other in lustful ways was a powerful turn-on--she didn’t know why it was, but there was no denial that it was--which seemed to demand that she pleasure her body at the same time. The fact that the beautiful Traci was also in the room with her, just a few feet away, in fact, and could easily catch her at this moment committing such a lewd act, further egged the daring, slutty side of Claire on.

“Claire? Um… hello, Claire?” The soft mention of her name was enough to snap Claire out of her round of self-pleasure. Traci was standing almost behind her. Startled and deeply embarrassed for having been caught red-handed, so to speak, she quickly mustered her attention, focusing back on the computer to try to make herself look as if she was concentrating on completing her assigned module.

How much did she see?! She must think I’m some perv...

Realizing that Traci must have seen something inappropriate--at the minimum, that Claire wasn’t making a good effort to complete the online assignment she had agreed to do, and perhaps more, that Claire was diddling herself to some erotic fantasy--Claire tried to excuse herself. “T-Traci… I’m sorry I was lust… I mean, lost, lost in thought… You know how the mind tends to wander and all that,” Claire rambled, trying to find the right words to excuse her behavior, but instead it just came out as a stream of gibberish.

Claire imagined what might happen next, such as Traci asking, “Hmmm...thinking of someone special, Claire?” Claire could not possibly admit to fantasizing sexually about her mother and her sister. In the absence of Claire answering, would Traci ask, “Was it me, Claire?” Certainly it could have been. What if Claire said yes, that she had been daydreaming about Traci? Would that bring about some kind of sexual interaction between them?

However, it didn’t come to that. Claire couldn’t tell whether Traci had noticed Claire’s reckless masturbation, and Traci didn’t say anything. In reality, though, Traci had been watching Claire on the monitor at her desk, clearly seeing that Claire was aroused and was indeed trying to pleasure herself while knowing that she was in the room with her, which she saw even better when she stood up and came over to Claire. Traci was strongly tempted to have an exchange with Claire very much like the one Claire had just imagined, but Traci was under orders to essentially cock-block Claire from achieving a climactic form of gratification for the time being. The plan was to tease her, yes, and to let her lust build up, but to not let her climax until the appointed time authorized by Hecate for Claire to attain sexual release. And Traci knew that Claire was quite aroused at the moment, from being with her and from whatever fantasies she had just been entertaining and from her masturbation, and that she didn’t dare open up the door between them about Claire’s sexual habits, not yet.

“No worries, my dear. I do apologize, as it is my fault that you might be a bit…fidgety, having kept you cooped up in a stuffy office.” ...and being close to me...

Claire was surprised, as she had clearly felt that Traci must have caught her, but she breathed a sigh of relief. She definitely didn’t care to admit or discuss the fact that she had been trying to jill off in Regina’s office to erotic thoughts of her own mother and sister, to a woman she admired as a friend, and to whom she found herself highly attracted and subconsciously viewed as a love interest.

Traci stepped directly in back of the coed, lightly rubbing up to the back of her head with her silk-covered mid-section, and bending over Claire a little so that the girl could catch a whiff of her seductive perfume. “Oh, it looks like you’ve completed the final module! Yay!” Traci cheerfully exclaimed, as she softly clapped her hands together, then settled her lovely, red-nailed hands on Claire’s shoulders, sending pleasant little shivers through Claire. Claire turned to face her computer screen and saw the following displayed in large, hot-pink font: “Module 3 has been completed. Your Social Sensitivity Training course is now 100% complete. “Congratulations!” Claire was confused, as she had no clear memory of having finished the module, but Traci had remote-accessed Claire’s computer when she was in her lusty haze and marked the module completed for her.

“I do apologize for holding you up, my dear, but why don’t we leave this stuffy old office and head towards our real destination. You know, I have a very pretty teenage girl who I think would enjoy your company,” added Traci as she walked back to her terminal and acted as if she was shutting things down and putting things away. “And with good reason. You are such a beautiful young woman.” The comment seemed to imply that it wouldn’t be Claire’s offer to help Traci’s daughter with her studies and plans, nor Claire’s upbeat, virtuous personality, that would be Claire’s main contribution as a guest in their home, but rather her beauty. Claire picked up on that implication...and she loved it. Yes...beauty...and allure...and sex appeal...were the primary assets a young woman such as herself could bring into the home of two equally sexy females. Anything else she might contribute was very much secondary.

“Yes, of course, and I can’t wait to meet Natasha! I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” Claire predicted, simultaneously feeling an undercurrent of lust and desire at the thought of meeting Traci’s daughter, unaware of the true nature of the weekend that both mother and daughter agents of Hecate had planned for her.

Getting up, Claire picked up her overnight bag and watched as Traci gathered her own things from her desk. Soon both women left and made their way towards Traci’s car and then onwards to Traci’s home, where a night of lesbian debauchery awaited Claire.

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

Meanwhile…

The operatives of Hecate were monitoring Claire’s and Traci’s interactions on multiple viewing terminals while Claire was spending time in Regina’s office. They watched Claire respond with strong arousal to Traci, to the lesbian porn designed just for her disguised as “sensitivity training”, to subliminals, and to other manipulation, she being blissfully unaware that her mind was being altered towards a state that suited the liking of Hecate and Serena Powers, as it had been previously over the past two weeks.

All eyes were drawn to a large monitor hanging on the wall. The word “calculating” was displayed in a small box, along with a series of random flashing numbers. Each female operative turned her attention to this display, eagerly anticipating the result.

Then it finally stopped and the number “71” appeared in the box with a percentage sign following. The figure was the product of a computer analysis reflecting the degree to which Claire’s core sexual orientation was homosexual at this moment in time, based on data gleaned from brain scans, objective analysis of emotional states and physical responses, and evaluation of behavior and speech. In Claire’s case, the number revealed the fact that Claire’s core sexual nature was now 71% lesbian, and only 29% of her base identity remained heterosexual, which the Hecate staff viewed as tremendous success, given her transformation had commenced a mere two weeks or so in the past. Several joyful cheers and the sounds of high fives emitted from the ladies present in the room, as they recognized that their efforts were paying off, the high figure revealing they were closing in on their end target goal, 100%.

“71%! We’re on our way!” a lithe-figured Hispanic woman exclaimed optimistically from one of the monitoring stations. “It’s getting closer to 100%. We only have roughly 30% to go with the target.”

“Problem with that line of logic, Marissa,” countered another woman, whose smooth, exotic African features were illuminated by the glow of the monitor at her station, “is that we were instructed to cultivate her transformation at a steady pace--brisk, yes, but steady, too--and to be careful not to go too fast for the safety of her mind and the stability of her end result. The intermediate goal had been 50% by the time she moved into her new residence yesterday, but we beat that two days before the move, and now look at her--71%! Okay, she had some powerful pushes since her move-in, and that explains a lot of her advance in a brief time, but, to progress more than twenty points in about three days?! That’s too impressive. Considering those factors, I think we’re going way too fast with her conversion, or something is happening in her mind where she’s absorbing the conditioning too quickly, and we are risking a complete mental breakdown or worse!”

“Now, now, Janae. Ah understand your concern, but there’s nah reason for you to rain on sweet Marissa’s parade,” sounded a sweet, Southern-accented voice which was immediately recognized by everyone in the room, simultaneously unnerving them, reassuring them, and bringing them to full attention. “Your concerns are very much warranted, but aah think, aah of all people would know when our dear, sweet Claire is progressing too quickly and would be able to detect the danger signs of a conversion that’s too rapid. However, just to ease your concerns, aah already made contact with our agent and told her to cut some things out of the festivities we planned for our sweet Ms. Love for later tonight.”

Everyone in the room turned to face Dr. Monaghan, who calmly stood staring at the various monitors on the wall of the room while delicately sipping a cup of tea. Despite the doctor’s pleasant demeanor, everyone could feel the nervous and fearful tension that Dr. Monaghan generated whenever she made her presence known. Most of the tension was from Monaghan’s reputation for the terrible punishments she imposed on the incompetent, the inattentive, the disobedient, and the insolent, but part of it was due to the woman’s powerful allure, her known penchant for impulsive, volatile, kinky, rapacious sex, and the rumors about who and what she--or he--really was.

“After all, we have all weekend to work Ms. Love’s mind over, and aah know everyone here is willing to give their all to make sure we hit our ultimate projected target goal without any issues.”

Everyone in the room unanimously voiced their support. Failure was not an option in their minds. A screw-up would bring down the wrath of Goddess on them all. But Janae was sweating with apprehension. She had just been put in her place by the feared Dr.Monaghan, and she knew there could well be some further repercussions for having voiced an opinion which turned out to be at odds with the doctor’s.

“All right, gals. Until the target reaches her next appointed destination, let’s take a small break and reconvene in, oh, say…fifteen minutes. See ya’ll later.”

The women then took their leave, nervously passing by Dr. Monaghan, giving her fearful glances as they passed.

”And Janae...before you go, if you don’t mind...I want to see ya later tonight in my office to, shall we say, discuss your concerns.” Let’s see...Maggie’s coming to see me at ten...and I want enough time to...um…‘talk’ with Janae before that… And I certainly don’t want to miss too much ‘prime time’ of Claire’s visit with Traci… “Come by about seven.” There was a touch of menace in Dr. Monaghan’s voice that caused a cold chill to run up the spines of everyone in the room.

Janae just gulped, her throat stuck as panic and despair seized her. “Y-y-yes, s-si… I-I mean, y-yes, ma’am,” was all she could sputter out, and, after managing to muster enough will, she quickly rushed out of the room.

After the last one left, leaving Monaghan alone in the room, she walked up to one of the terminals. She understood the concern that Janae had in regards to Claire’s fast progress. She had seen the results of unchecked, excessively rapid conversions before, ones which left their victims with severe permanent mental and emotional trauma or even in a vegetative state. Putting such a victim to death would be an act of mercy, Monaghan reflected. However, she had a goal to meet and she will not be denied, nor would she be contradicted, especially by a subordinate. Her authority would not be challenged so openly, and, after her one-on-one with Janae, Monaghan was confident that Janae would come around to her line of thinking.

After punching a few commands in, various images of Claire appeared on the screens.

You are beautiful, Monaghan thought to herself. And you’ll be worth our efforts, in the end. But aren’t you a resistant one?! Despite the high percentage indicated by the computer program which suggested fast sapphic development in Claire, Monaghan was not so convinced. One indicator was Claire’s resistance to earlier brainwashing which tried to wipe out Claire’s tenacious, pure, protective love for her sister, and which had forced them to try a different tact, that of fueling and corrupting that love, which appeared to be taking much better. And she still hadn’t done anything, at least while fully aware, in the way of overt lesbian sex with anyone, unless one counts what she did with Regina and Abby the previous night, which, yes, had been voluntary and done consciously, more or less, but she didn’t remember those acts as reality now. Another indicator of some residual resistance or lack of response to her programming was that Claire had failed to adopt makeup and sexy clothes fast enough, and still had not experimented with her hair color, despite extensive brainwashing luring her into those things.

Your mother taught you a little too well. But don’t worry… We’ll take care of her… I promise , you’ll like her much better when we’re done with her... And you, my pretty one...you’ll break!

That damned Regina has this protective sentimentality for you… You're her little favorite, aren’t you? She doesn’t want you damaged… Yes, I might be pushing you a little too much...but I don’t care! Maybe I need to push you more, rather than less...and don’t doubt that I can do it! ……..... I do have to be careful… I’ll cut back a thing or two...at least to make it look like I’m being more cautious...but there are some things I can do in secret...to stoke your fire nice and hot... One way or another, I’ll break you!! Wicked evil laughter filled the room.

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

After she had dropped Claire off at the Bursar’s office, Jessica was on cloud nine. Claire had requested Jessica’s help in her quest--one recommended, or even assigned, by Claire’s mentor, Regina Burke, and strongly approved by her wonderful benefactress, Serena Powers--to become more familiar with the lesbian lifestyle. As Jessica had read Claire’s face and vibes, she was fairly certain that Claire was curious about lesbian intimacy even apart from her assignment, and that her request of Jessica maybe included Jessica personally helping her indulge that lesbian curiosity. Her best friend had even been bold enough to ask her out on a date! There was no doubt that she meant a girl-on-girl, lesbian date!! Jessica, with no objection or hesitation, had immediately taken Claire up on her offer. Further, when Claire had gotten out of her car, she had placed a soft kiss on Jessica’s lips. That moment had made her day!

It was now rather obvious to her that Claire was attracted to her, that Claire liked her in some new way than she had before. Their friendship was more than mere friendship now. Maybe she didn’t have to use Coach Ilsa’s drug on Claire. Maybe she had a realistic chance of actually seducing her secret crush into becoming her lesbian lover on her own, without drugging her. In her mind she imagined herself as Claire’s happy housewife, giggling as Claire lavished her with sweet kisses and placed her arms around her waist in a tender, amorous manner. Then, all of a sudden Jessica’s daydream was broken up by a loud honk.

Snapping to attention, Jessica immediately swerved to her right, back into her own lane, narrowly avoiding hitting an oncoming SUV.

“Learn to drive, you dumb, fucking bitch!” screamed the reasonably irate driver in the oncoming lane as he sped by and gave Jessica the finger.

Shaken by the near-fatal encounter, Jessica immediately pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She had nearly gotten into an accident. Worse, she could have gotten herself killed...and then who would take care of her beloved Claire...tending to her needs....all of her needs…?

Once Jessica collected herself, she carefully merged with traffic and made her way toward her destination. She pulled into a parking lot in front of a large grocery store.

Okay, Jessica… You’re not going to blow this with Claire... You’re going to be careful...no car crashes...no putting her off again by being insensitive or aggressive at the wrong time...no timid holding back on your appearance. You’re going to be so hot, she can’t resist you. You’re going to let her know you are available...you are hers...for anything she wants to try with you...anytime, anywhere… You need more experience with girls… You need to be sexier… You need to be a slut… You need to be a hot, sexy bitch...for Claire...You are hers… You are her girl…

She liked that lesbian porn video…she liked those girls… We could be like them... Watch the other DVDs with her… Then give her more porn… I guess I can get more from Ilsa...or online… I’ll get her so into lesbian porn, she’ll think I’m a porn star...and she is, too...a lesbian porn star...

Stepping out of her car, she made her way inside and started pushing a shopping cart through the aisles. A few minutes later, the cart she was pushing was partially loaded with some refreshments and snacks, which she planned to serve when Courtney stopped by for their “get together”.

“Can I help you find something, ma’am?” came a familiar, soft, polite voice from behind Jessica.

As she turned to address the person, Jessica was surprised to see her teammate Rebecca before her. She was wearing a green apron with the logo of the grocery store. Underneath was a purple polo shirt and a pair of mid-thigh cut-off jean shorts, which, to Jessica’s eyes, did a marvelous job of showing off Rebecca’s long, sexy, tanned legs. If Rebecca were to turn around, Jessica guessed, the shorts would show off her friend’s ass nicely, as well.

Rebecca had her long, luscious black mane in a neat updo bun style. With Rebecca wearing very minimal makeup--her custom being either no or very little makeup--the only thing that Jessica noticed was what looked to be a single coat of sakura pink lip gloss on her teammate’s lips, making them appeal to Jessica as being very kissable.

While Jessica checked Rebecca out, an awkward silence arose between the two teammates. Rebecca just stood there, unsure what to do, not sure what to make of the look that Jessica was giving her, one kind of like the look some boys gave her when she passed them by. But then, she saw Jessica twirl a long lock of her light golden brown hair in her finger, give her a quick wink of an eye, and trace her tongue over her lower lip. It happened so fast that Rebecca wasn’t certain she saw what she thought she saw, but it was enough to alarm her.

A surprised and puzzled look appeared on Rebecca’s face. Oh, my god! Is she…is she trying to flirt with me?.............. Nah! Jessica isn’t like that. Not by a long shot. Odds are, some cute guy is behind me, and she’s looking at him. That’s got to be it. That was the only plausible answer Rebecca could think of to justify her friend’s odd behavior.

But the experience caused Rebecca to take another look at Jessica. This was the first time she had gotten a good, close look at her friend in a long while. She recalled her friend’s hair being a darker shade of brown, more akin to milk chocolate, and kept in one plain, unflattering, forgettable style or another. Now Jessica had her hair colored in a lighter shade of brown, close to honey, and styled in a more feminine style, in a cute, girly way, namely, a shoulder-length page-boy cut with thick bangs curled in and swept to the left. Rebecca also quickly took in Jessica’s makeup and body, clad as it was in a tight black sports top and glossy, super short, fuschia-colored hot pants. Wow. She’s...she’s really cute...

Again Rebecca concluded that Jessica was trying to impress a boy that caught her fancy...and yet...she had never known her teammate to go through these kinds of lengths for the attention of some guy...so it made her wonder what was going on with Jessica.

While Rebecca was perfectly straight, she nevertheless felt flattered, along with being shocked, by the possibility of a pretty girl like Jessica coming on to her. I’m not into girls...and I’m sure she isn’t, either...but...it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world...if she were...flirting with me.... Hmmm… What if she is?... She looks so nice…

To move past the awkward silence between them, Rebecca decided to try to start a conversation with her friend about another matter of curiosity to her. “So, word is going around that you got a hook-up that landed you an apartment in the Suites? So what’s his name…?” Rebecca said in a teasing manner. After she had posed the question, it occurred to her that Jessica’s answer could also give her some insight into whether Jessica might swing more towards guys or girls.

“Let me guess. Courtney told you. Well, I cannot tell a lie, but it’s not some guy. Yuck! Like I would debase myself like that. No… It’s my bestie!” Jessica responded in a dreamy tone. She was thinking of her beloved Claire. “She managed to get me and my other roommates the sweetest of hook-ups.”

Hmmm… Jessica doesn’t sound too keen on guys. That means she was more than likely...flirting...with...me……..like…….she likes me……. How do I feel about that? “You got it right. It was Courtney that blabbed. She couldn’t help but tell everyone on the team that she knows someone that resides there and invited her over…” I wouldn’t mind seeing the Suites, either...and getting to know Jessica better, at the same time. “Makes me wish I got an invitation, too,” Rebecca whimpered in mock injury, as she made a pouty expression on her face, pretending that she was hurt by the lack of the invite.

The gears were already turning in Jessica’s head. Why settle for one hot babe when she could have two to play with? Jessica’s corrupted mind already was starting to put together a plan to bed both the two foxy women whom it now appeared she could get to come over.

“Well… you could stop by to say ‘hi’ when you get off work,” Jessica suggested slyly. “And, I’m sure Courtney wouldn’t mind you dropping by,” Jessica added, with an emphasis on the “you”. Of course she wouldn’t mind a Latina hottie like you showing up. After all, nothing says fun like a lesbian threesome. Oh, you’re not a lesbian, Rebecca? And Courtney’s not either? Don’t worry. We can fix that, she added in her thoughts. In fact...Courtney and Rebecca...hmmmm...they probably already are a little closer than most of the teammates, both playing guard. What if they already like each other...and I just give that a little...nudge…?

“Wow, really that’s… that’s very generous of you! But if you and Courtney have plans,”--I wonder if they’re dating-- “I don’t want to …”

“Rebecca, we're all teammates. I’m sure that Courtney wouldn’t mind a cutie like you joining us. In fact, I know she wouldn’t. She likes you.” Rebecca didn’t know how Jesssica knew that or in what way Courtney “liked” her, but it was nice to be liked in whatever sense Jessica had meant it. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.” In reality, Jessica was making her observations up, knowing it was unlikely her fiction would be unraveled. “She’s very cute, don’t you think?”

“Well..yeah…”

“So you wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, would you? Besides, we’re just watching old game footage and working on Coach Ilsa’s assignment. So why not show up when you get off and we’ll kick back and relax, and with you with us we can make the study session into a threesome,” Jessica said in a joking manner as she wrapped her right arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and drew the athletic Latina hottie closer to her body.

Rebecca just snickered at Jessica’s innuendo, unaware that her teammate was dead serious and had intentions for her when she showed up other than merely watching game footage.

“Well, I get off at five thirty. I want to go home and shower first, so I guess I’ll see you around six thirty,” Rebecca said in a friendly manner as she gently pried Jessica’s arm off her shoulder and cautiously stepped back. Even if Jessica’s gay, or they both are, it won’t hurt me to hang with them. They’re both fun, cute girls.

“Yes, Courtney and I will see you when you get off work. Just text or call me when you arrive. I’ll leave word with security so they’ll let you through the gate. When you get to my building, press the button and you’ll get buzzed in. Until then... I’ll see you later, Chica.” Jessica placed a seductive emphasis on the last word. Rebecca wasn’t sure what to make of it, but decided she liked a cute girl like Jessica being a little familiar and sassy with her. As Rebecca walked away to get back to work, Jessica admired the firm ass of her teammate tucked into the tight jean shorts. I wonder if she’s going to wear those shorts later, too...

Before Rebecca disappeared around a corner, she looked back one last time at Jessica, and caught her checking out her rear. Both girls smiled and waved one last time. Hmmm...yeah, maybe little Miss Jessica likes girls. At least, she likes me...or my ass… It’s nice to be liked… Well, nothing’s going to happen between us, and at least I’ll get to see the Suites and get Coach’s assignment done… But it will be nice to spend some time with my teammates, too...two cute girls...

Oh yeah! I can’t wait to get my hands on that ass! Jessica exclaimed to herself as she watched Rebecca’s hips sway and considered the myriad of sexual possibilities that could occur when Rebecca visited her later that evening. It struck her that, yes, while it would be something to seduce both girls for herself, and she was going to do that, it could be even more fun to see if she couldn’t make her two teammates hot for each other, and turn them into avid lesbian girlfriends. Hmmmmmm……………...yeah……...

Then a thought entered her mind. Duh! Jessica thought to herself as she slapped her palm on her forehead and, in a rush, pushed the shopping cart towards the cosmetics aisle. Seeing Rebecca almost made me forget the main reason why I’m here... These are going to be the most important things I get today...or this week...or this month… I can’t wait… How cool this is going to be…

Upon arriving at her intended destination, Jessica surveyed the plethora of lipstick, nail polish, eyeshadow, and a slew of other cosmetics. Her eye was also caught by the large section of the aisle dedicated to hair coloring products and, as she scanned over the variety there, she was distracted, fascinated by the possibilities that section presented, although she finally moved back to the cosmetics area, as that was her main target today. There was a mysterious excitement about being there, and being on the brink of buying some of the items before her. Her mouth was in a cheshire grin as she observed the multiple options available to her. Jessica began to go through all the cosmetic items, carefully weighing each category, type, brand, line, color, and special effect, and settled on products that caught her fancy, ones that she felt would maximize her beauty and her ability to seduce Claire, Courtney, and Rebecca.

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

Regina sat at her desk in her plush office in the Artemis Center typing onto some forms. Taking a break from the mundane task, she leaned back a bit, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and reflected a bit. Being the head of a secret shadow cabal did come with some perks, but the tasks required to make it operate as an efficient organization sometimes outweighed them. At times it was just like any other large-scale business. Regina had to make sure projects came under budget, met expected deadlines, and were properly staffed. She addressed staff complaints, approved item requisitions, and handled a whole slew of other issues that came along with her line of work.

There were exasperating times when she wished she could just throw up her arms and escape this monotonous part of her life--but she didn’t. After all, this was the task that Goddess had assigned her. She certainly didn’t want to fail her Goddess. And Regina had to admit she was admirably good at it.

Thinking about Serena Powers, her beloved Goddess, put a relaxed smile on her face. Just knowing her made dealing with the stresses of working at Hecate worth it. Lust and pleasure were typical reactions that came from thinking about Goddess, and Regina’s body started to feel those responses now.

Although there was much speculation among those working for the Hecate organization, few knew the true origins of Regina’s rise within the company’s hierarchy. That story started when she was young, a poor, low-income--and queer--working-class girl from a backwoods hick coal-mining town in Kentucky, working a dead-end job waiting on tables and helping with catering at a hotel in Lexington. Her first encounter with her Goddess was seeing her give a speech in the banquet hall of the hotel as she was part of the staff serving dinner. Almost all of the guests were women, and Ms. Powers’ topic was the role of women in modern society, advocating for their rightful dominance in business, government, society, culture, and in the bedroom, arguing against traditional views about masculinity and femininity, sexual orientation, sexual self-restraint, and modesty, and promoting more tolerant, liberated attitudes about women and sexuality in general and about lesbian love and marriage specifically.

Regina was mesmerized by the ashen-blonde beauty standing behind the podium. Her slender, voluptuous body was wrapped tightly in a revealing gold satin bodycon dress, her lips and nails were a bright red, she wore a gold-set pearl necklace and earrings, and her long, ultra-pale hair was up in a sleek French twist. Once the brunette Regina first saw her from across the hall, she was helpless to do anything other than stand there, drinking in the woman’s beauty and being seduced by the charming voice and the empowering, revolutionary words flowing from her rich crimson lips, until one of her coworkers walked past her and urged her to get back to work.

This had not been the first time in her life that she had felt that kind of attraction to another woman. Regina already knew she liked girls, and had not kept that fact a secret, but the fascination she had felt for Ms.Powers that fateful evening had been the strongest she had ever felt for any person. It was also the first time she had entertained any of the ideas about female superiority and dominance and about the legitimacy and, even, the supremacy of sapphic relationships and marriages which Ms. Powers advocated. Regina knew right there and then that she had to be a part of Serena Powers’ world, to have a piece of it and to make it her own.

It took some cunning and a little manipulation on her part, but Regina managed to find out in which room Serena Powers was staying for the night and made her way there. As she mustered the courage to knock on the door, she could feel a lump in her throat, realizing that she would soon meet the woman who had inspired, stirred, and aroused her that night. When the door opened, Regina was amazed by the stunning beauty that greeted her. Serena had let her long ash-blonde hair down, so that it flowed down past her shoulders in seductive waves. Her lips were still coated with a vibrant crimson shade, making Ms. Powers look almost predatory, hungry for her next meal. She only had on a shimmering elegant, black silk robe that did a very nice job of showing off the feminine curves of her body, including the obvious impressions of her pointed nipples, which immediately seized the brunette’s attention. Serena had noticed the pretty, young server in the audience who had repeatedly stared at her during the lecture and afterwards, when she should have been working, but the blonde knew she had that effect on many women, whether straight and queer, and was used to it. But to find her now at her door…either the girl was there on unsolicited hotel business or she was there for personal reasons. At least this brunette was very pretty. No matter why she was there, Serena already liked her.

Serena greeted the young Regina with a raised charcoal-black-colored eyebrow and a bit of suspicion on her face. “Yes?”

Regina was in such awe of the woman’s sexy beauty and their current proximity that she could barely remember why she was there or how to string together a coherent sentence. She was also a little surprised by how young Ms. Powers was revealed to be at this close range, likely no older than she, Regina, herself was, as the content and delivery of the evening’s lecture seemed to reflect a much more mature, seasoned personality and mind than most women of her apparent youth usually had.

“Hello...um...I..uh...Ms. Powers…I...I hope you don’t mind that I found out what room you were in and...and came by...but I...I just wanted to meet you and...and…”

“You want to get to know me.” Hmmmm… She’s very cute… Let’s see what she’s like… “I’m impressed with your initiative to find me. Why don’t you come in?”

Inviting the visitor into her hotel room, Serena sat the young woman next to her on the bed and listened to her backstory. Regina explained how, having come from poor origins, in that she had been born into a low-income family, and having been looked down upon for that as well as having been shunned and ostracized by her community for coming out, she wanted to make a difference for people like herself, and had been inspired by the night’s lecture.

“I liked what you said...you know, about women...women taking their rightful place...and what a different future we could have…a future of fairness...and justice...and freedom... I just want to help…”

However, Serena was not moved at all by Regina’s tale of woe, as a woman of her stature and wealth had heard just about every sob story possible. Instead, she let out a hearty laugh in response to Regina’s sad tale. Regina stood looking at her dumb-founded, completely taken aback by Serena’s response. When Serena composed herself, she placed her hand on Regina’s shoulder and looked her firmly in the eyes. The cold, menacing stare Regina got could have made the bravest of wills cower in fear. And, in a cold, icy tone, Regina leaned in and countered, “No, you don’t.”

Regina was taken aback and stood up, with Serena following. Here she was, having just poured her heart out, expressing how she wanted to help Serena Powers make a difference in the world, to make it a better place, and in response the woman had the audacity to laugh in her face and infer that what she thought she wanted wasn’t what she wanted at all.

Then she felt it. The rage she kept bottled up all her young life starting to boil over--the hurt she felt when Lulu Perlman, her first crush, who was also the minister’s daughter, spurned her confession of love, and mocked her for it; the fury that brewed after years of physical abuse she endured at the hands of her own father, while her mother just stood there doing nothing except quoting bible verses, as her father rained blow after blow on her; the blinding hate she had for the narrow-minded hicks in the backwoods town in which she had the misfortune of being born; and now, the seething anger she was beginning to feel for the woman she thought would welcome her.

“There, that’s it. That’s what you truly want. Right there. Focus on it and let it guide you,” Serena stated in a very confident, matter-of-fact tone, gesturing with her well-manicured index finger as she tapped the fuming Regina’s forehead.

It took a while, but Regina eventually caught on to what Serena was implying. She realized deep down she didn’t want equality, fairness, or to even bring about any form of social justice or reform. No, she wanted power--the power to crush everyone who had wronged her, the power to make sure that she would never be made to feel inadequate, the power to dominate those she deemed her inferiors.

Focusing on that realization, Regina acknowledged the real reason why she wanted to meet Serena Powers so badly. She saw something in the sexy business woman that would open doors for her and obtain what she had been denied her whole life. Her goal was in fact to find ways to use Serena and her influence to achieve her secret desires. Regina didn’t care about justice and women’s rights and being helpful. That was so much bull. She had not only been deluding herself, but she had been giving Ms. Powers a load, as well, which she didn’t realize until the blonde had called her out. Regina realized how foolish she was in trying to deceive this woman, no this Goddess who stood before her.

“I-I seek...power. Power to make all who ever crossed me rue the day that they met me, power to elevate me above those I deem inferior, and most important of all, power to eliminate anyone and anything foolish enough to get in my way.” Regina shamefully admitted to the real reason for tonight’s visit to Serena Powers. “And, of course, power to seduce any woman I want.”


Continue to Part 2...

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