Shelly pulled out of her driveway and into the street. Driving by rote, she found herself in
the Grands, the artsy, alternative area of the city. It was Friday night, and the crowds were
swarming despite the cool fall weather. After a frustrating ten minutes of trying to find a parking
space, she got out of the car and walked to the small shop where she'd found the Dream Stone. It
wasn't that she wanted to go there for fun this time. It was a matter of necessity. Her life had
become too bizarre for words. Two of her managers had agreed to anything she said, and acted on it
-- and she didn't understand why. It stirred some animal, basic thing in her, where sex and power
and curiosity mixed into irresistible daydreams of lust and domination. She needed to understand
what was going on. Somehow, she knew the answer to the mystery had to be with the woman who owned
the store, even though she realized the thought had no logical basis. Besides her quest for
knowledge, she had a perfectly normal reason to stop in. She couldn't remember even buying the
thing, and she was afraid she'd inadvertently not paid for it. Its appearance in her life didn't
have that kind of feeling; it was almost as if the Dream Stone was a part of her. But she wanted to
be sure it was just a lapse of memory rather than unintended thievery. Not that a memory lapse
would be all that great, either. She pulled the door open and heard the tinkling of the tiny bell
as she walked in. "I was wondering when you'd be back," said the old woman as she appeared in the
curtained doorway that led from the back room. "I'm sure you have some questions." Shelly was taken
aback. Thinking about Maggie, the proprietress, was a distinctly different sensation from hearing
her voice. The voice sang to her. It tickled her in secret places. She didn't even stop to wonder
how she knew the old woman's name. She was much too distracted. She was horny. Wet. "*What the fuck
is wrong with me?*" she thought. "*For the love of Pete, I've never been attracted to women, much
less old... angelic...*" Her brow furrowed as she tried to discern where the shift in thought had
come from. "Well, I was wondering about this thing," she said, pulling the small brownish ceramic
stone from her coat pocket. "Ah. So your life has taken a strange little turn, has it?" "Yes." "Why
don't you come to the back, disrobe, and tell me all about it," said Maggie, smiling as if she'd
just asked Shelly if she would like a cup of coffee. "And if you like," she added, "I'll carry the
stone for you." "Thank you!" said Shelly. As they walked to the back, she had no idea why she felt
so grateful, but it was hard to think about as pleasant tingles spread over her skin. Besides, she
needed to shed her clothes. It was only moments until Shelly was standing naked before the old
woman, her clothes neatly folded and placed on a nearby chair. She began her prepared speech. "You
see, I found this a few days ago and I remember looking at it but I don't remember paying for it
and I was thinking I might have taken it without thinking since I can't remember and I was worried
you'd be angry and actually would not have been surprised to see the police at my door and..."
Shelly babbled, barely stopping for breath. She continued her tale, unable to keep track of the
words as they poured out of her, confessing the tiniest details of her encounters with Marsha, her
manager, and Jim Morley, the Senior Vice President. "...then Mr. Morley set it all up and I can't
believe it and I have no idea how this is happening and I was wondering if you knew what was
happening to..." As her story went on and on, Maggie held the stone in both hands and looked at
Shelly. "*Magnificent,*" was the only word that came to mind. Shelly's face was becoming red as she
realized she couldn't stop talking. It was as if the request to "tell her all about it" was a
command that was going to pump every last bit of information out of her. It took her most of an
hour before the words came to a halt and she was able to relax her tongue, which was now sore from
its workout. There was a long moment of silence as Maggie considered the beautiful woman standing
naked before her. "Shelly. It's alright to remember, now," she said, a harsh rasp entering her
voice. Another, larger shift swept through her soul. Shelly fell to her knees in awe and hid her
eyes from the brilliance before her. It all came flooding back to her -- how God had revealed
Herself and told her things. Secret things. Things she must do and feel. Words and thoughts she
would obey without thinking. God spoke. Shelly listened. "Over the next month, you will transform,
precious one. We'll begin with your appearance..." As Maggie continued, the words wrote themselves
into Shelly's heart and soul. ---- ---- ---- Lisa Stendahl watched Shelly pack boxes of things that
had occupied the unused cubicle for nearly two months. She'd never cared for her much. She was
lazy, insecure and usually defensive in any conversation. There was something different about her
now, though. Beyond her hair, which flowed free and curly, like a gypsy's, she had some kind of
inner confidence. It was almost a glow. While she had never heard what happened, she had assumed
Shelly had skipped town or taken another job in the company. Jim Morley had only said she was on
"special assignment". When she couldn't find out any more, she let it drop. And to tell the truth,
without Shelly adding events to her cynical gossip, it had been slim to none on getting any dirt.
She decided to walk over and see if she could get something juicy to spread around. It was
certainly worth a shot. "Heya, Shel. I guess this is it, huh? Leaving, I mean," she said, leaning
on the open corner of the cubicle. "In a manner of speaking, yes. I'm busy with more... interesting
things, now." Shelly looked at Lisa and gave her a bright smile. It was very different than the
Shelly who'd left weeks ago. "You found a guy, huh," teased Lisa, leaning in and whispering a bit.
"Is it Jim Morley?" "No, silly. And it's not a guy. It's... well, it's hard to explain." "Try me."
"I don't want to talk about it here." Lisa was hooked. She knew she was on to something, and she
felt a deep craving to find out what it was. She was already imagining the busy phone calls Monday
as she asked, "Do you want to talk about it anywhere else? I mean, I'm really interested. As a
friend, you know." "I didn't know you thought of me that way, Lisa," said Shelly, her shyness
coming back out into the light. "I always thought you... well, to be blunt, you've never had very
nice things to say about me. Or so I've been told." "Not true, Shel! The people who told you that
were telling me the same thing about you! It just took me awhile to figure it out, is all." She
brought her voice down to a whisper again. "And we all need all the friends we can get, right?" "I
suppose. I do need someone to talk to. So much has happened. Weird things. Wonderful things. Scary
things," admitted Shelly. "So, a drink after work, maybe?" asked Lisa, hoping. "No, too public.
This is really very secret stuff. I'd have to know I could trust you, Lisa." "You can! Really."
Lisa made sure her voice dripped with well-practiced sincerity. "Okay, look. Why don't you come
over tonight, and have dinner. Bring some wine. I really do want to talk to someone about all this,
and I haven't had a chance at all." "Ooh, a date!" said Lisa, giggling. "Oh, come on, Lisa. I'm not
like... that." "I know, I know," replied Lisa. She'd felt the walls come up and realized she'd
nearly blown it. "I'm not either. Sometimes I tease too much." "It's okay, really. Seven or so?"
"Okay, Shelly. And Shel?" "Yes?" Lisa leaned in again and lowered her voice still further. "Thank
you for trusting me." Shelly smiled but didn't say anything. She turned away and licked her lips.
She couldn't wait for dinner. ---- ---- ---- As promised, Lisa showed up just after seven. She
looked rather fetching in her black, bloused silk pants, black platform boots and white silk
blouse. The lack of color offset her dark, scarlet-highlighted hair. It was a little out of
fashion, but it fit Lisa in a way that made sense. Shelly, dressed in her own garish ensemble of
sweat pants and old Cavalry t-shirt, smiled as she let in her former co- worker. "Wow! You look
fabulous, Lisa! Sorry I'm not better dressed, but I like to be comfortable at home..." "Don't
worry, I just put this on for the fun of it," she said, laughing as she handed Shelly the promised
bottle of wine. While Shelly went off to open and pour the Beaujolais, Lisa looked around the
spacious living room in mute approval. Shelly's well-known interest in interior design had paid
off. From the white couch and asymmetrical club chairs to the branches mounted above the fireplace
mantle, it was a picture of understated elegance. Even the large, multi-colored ottoman somehow
fit. The artwork hung sparsely was varied, giving a sense of chaos tamed into brilliant ensemble.
In a word, it was beautiful. Then she noticed the television. It was playing some kind of wavy,
multi-colored color pattern that almost gave it a three-dimensional quality. "What is *that*?" she
called out, curious. "On the TV, I mean." "Something I picked up from a mail-order store in New
York," said Shelly, still in the kitchen. "It's a DVD called 'Future Candy'." "Cool, isn't it?"
Shelly said as she walked back in and handed her guest a glass of wine. "Very," said Lisa. She was
surprised to find that she meant it. She looked up a little. On top of the television was a
dark-brown piece of mottled pottery, almost like a round paperweight. Lisa walked over and picked
it up. Closer, it looked almost like a wistful little face. "Cute," she said. "It's called a Dream
Stone. It's an ancient relic, supposedly. It's supposed to make things happen for you. It works
with like one in a gazillion people. Sort of like the lottery," said Shelly. "And did it work for
you?" "Well, yes, as a matter of fact." Lisa would have laughed, but Shelly sounded serious. And
she *had* been wondering about the recent turn of events.

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 Marsha. Mr. Morley. She swallowed
unconsciously and asked, "So what does it do, exactly?" "Depends. When I first got it, I was able
to say anything to anyone and they would do whatever I happened to utter. But that isn't its
purpose. That was just a way of proving itself, and of setting the stage." Lisa began to think that
maybe her quest for gossip had gone far enough. She had plenty already. Shelly was as crazy as
Marsha. She had gone off the deep end. And this sounded very much off-the-wall. So why did it fit?
This was sounding more than just spooky, in light of recent events. She didn't want to show the
fear that was growing inside -- she covered it with, "Then what *is* its purpose?" "To bring out
hidden gifts. hidden talents. To show its owner what is possible, and to uncover their deepest
desires -- the ones that most people hide from all of their lives. Not only that, it gives them the
insight to achieve them." Shelly spoke with the cool authority of someone saying something beyond
question. It was both charismatic and repulsive. It made so much sense that certain people might
have owned them, through time... Moses, Alexander, Caesar, Genghis Khan, Thomas Jefferson, Hitler,
maybe even Elvis Presley. Maybe none of them; it was a completely ludicrous notion. Lisa drained
her wine glass, turned away from it and looked around the room and at Shelly. Her eyes had a sudden
feeling, along with her head, of hands gently pressing in from everywhere at once. "Excuse me," she
said. Her voice sounded like it was booming. "I feel a little faint." "Yes, I'm sure you do, Lisa,"
said Shelly, a broad grin covering her face. "That would be the Essence of Erimiri that was in your
wine. It's a rare herb -- and has an interesting effect. Very fast-acting. Makes your body not want
to move much, but more importantly, it makes you phototropically inclined. That means you like to
look at pretty lights." Lisa tried to nod and answer, but found it difficult. It wasn't like she
was paralyzed... it was more like her limbs just didn't *want* to go anywhere. Silly, stubborn
bones. Shelly walked over and put her arm around Lisa from behind. "Here, Lisa. Let me help you.
You're going to enjoy this, I think." She walked Lisa to the couch and sat her down facing the
television. Lisa sat without moving. Pretty, pretty television. Pretty flowery, so nice, so bright.
Light. She tried to look at Shelly, to say that she didn't understand, but her eyes just kept
getting wider, trying to catch more and more of the addictive, pleasure inducing glow. Shelly
turned out the other lamps in the room and sat beside her transfixed visitor. Kindness disappeared
from her smile, like dropping a veil of sheer silk. "Lisa." She waited for a response, but it did
not come. "Lisa, what are you seeing?" shouted Shelly, her voice filled with alarm. She slapped the
transfixed girl across her face. Lisa gave no sign that anything had happened. This was the state
she'd been expecting. Lisa's conscious mind was almost entirely distracted, anchored to the
swirling colors on the screen. She would stay like this for hours, if need be. There was nothing
special about the patterns. Shelly could have used a flashlight or a flickering strobe and gotten
the same response. But this was her "anchor" of choice. Seeing Lisa's awareness being absorbed into
spiraling colors was somehow more dramatic and arousing. More than that, she decided. It was hot as
*hell*. Shelly pulled off her clothes and sat down again beside the mesmerized woman. She spoke in
an easy voice now, knowing that Lisa could hear, but could not listen, at least in the way she had
always listened before. This time, there was no way to question the words that entered her mind.
"Lisa, listen to me. This is Shelly. Shelly Lindstrom. I'm your best friend in the whole world. And
as your best friend, you know that I only want what's best for you. So let your inner mind take
over and drive your conscious mind deeper and deeper. Deeper. That's right, Shelly. Much, much
deeper. Listen to your inner mind. In a moment I'm going to talk only to your inner mind, and
there's no reason for you to listen. No reason at all. It's boring, and the lights are so pretty,
and feel so *good*. "Now I'm speaking to Lisa's inner mind. I know you are listening. I know you
can't hear anything but the sound of my voice. Lisa is busy watching the lights, and it's so
wonderful to be out from under the burden of her personality. So even if the pretty light goes
away, you will make sure that the conscious mind of Lisa continues to see and be captivated by it.
"That's right. I don't even need to talk to Lisa anymore. Lisa is completely in the lights now.
There is only you, and your name is... hmmm... Titwinkle! Yes, that is the perfect name for you.
You are the foundation upon which Lisa is built, and Titwinkle is who you are. "Since I am your
best friend -- your *only* friend -- you wish to speak with me. Though you've never spoken before,
you can now, because it's safe to talk to me. Talking to me gives you pleasure, when I ask you to
talk to me. It gives you pain to speak when I do not ask, and your primary function is the
attainment of pleasure. Sexual pleasure. "You seek sexual pleasure endlessly. You seek sexual
pleasure above all else. I know this about you, and now you know it, too. It is a great truth,
beyond questioning. Just like I am beyond questioning. "And since I, too, am beyond questioning, it
makes perfect, natural sense to you that I am sexual pleasure incarnate. You live to serve sexual
pleasure, and since I *am* sexual pleasure, serving me -- *obeying* me -- gives you more pleasure
than even the act of sex. And when we fuck, in any way at all, it drives the pleasure deeper each
time. "Serving me is sexual pleasure, and pleasing me is even more sexual pleasure. Pleasing me is
like being fucked throughout your entire body with pure bliss and pleasure. Pleasing me is
soul-fucking. "Each time it addicts you more. When we fuck. And since I am sexual pleasure, I know
what fucking is better than anyone or anything else. You know that fucking is whatever I say it is.
"Of course, I'm a woman, so that means you love a woman. And since you love only me, that makes you
what? A lesbian, of course. Proud. Strong. Loving. On fire. Lesbian. In love with me. Totally in
love with Shelly. "By now, you have discovered your ability to speak. Tell me your name." Lisa
moaned softly. Her lips moved, trying to form something. They were becoming puffy and moist as she
struggled. Finally, a word hissed out from behind another moan. "Titwinkle..." "Very nice,
Titwinkle. Although Lisa does not know about you, you are all-powerful in her psyche and in her
life, aren't you?" "Yessss..." The word sounded sexy and satisfied, like it was basking in newfound
power. "And since you obey me, and are my slave, and Lisa obeys you and is *your* slave, then what
is Lisa, even if she is unaware?" "Your slave..." "My, my, you are so smart. You serve me so well.
It pleases me when you serve me well." Shelly couldn't hold back any longer as her lust spread
through her. She spread her legs wide, draping one leg over Lisa's as she began to circle her
throbbing, swollen clit with her index and middle fingers. Lisa began panting at the touch of her
co-worker. Her body began to writhe, eyes closing as if Shelly's lust was spreading into her like a
heated, feverish infection. She couldn't watch the tv anymore, but it was no matter. Lisa was
blissfully watching the light show Titwinkle provided. And Titwinkle was swimming in depraved,
Sapphic bliss. "Titwinkle, fucking men is not fucking. It is not pleasing to me. Each time Lisa
fucks a man, no matter how close to him she is, she begins to respect him less and less. She feels
less and less pleasure. She will begin to wish that she were fucking me instead. She will begin to
wish that I owned her. She will not realize, yet, that I already own her through my ownership of
you. "When she feels no more pleasure at all from men, she will begin to feel nausea. Soon, she
will feel nausea at the slightest thought of fucking a man. Lisa will long to hear my voice, to
feel my touch. She will long to serve and adore me. Lisa will realize she has always been a
lesbian. She will realize that she loves me. She will realize that her dream is to worship at my
feet. You will reveal these truths to her as appropriate." Shelly fought with all her might not to
cum at her own words. The euphoria of sexual control poured into her, making her body quake as she
continued. "Sometimes, by obeying me she will feel embarrassed or humiliated. This is of no
consequence. It will arouse you beyond words, and you will allow her to feel your arousal. "And...
you will only allow her to answer my questions truthfully. When you have made her tell the truth
against her will, you will have her say, 'You can't fight City Hall.' This is how I will know you
are mine, and in control. This pleases me. You please me." It was time to seal Lisa's fate, inside
and out. "My words are fucking your soul now. My words are making your body and spirit cum. Please
me, Titwinkle. cum for your owner. When you cum, you are accepting me as lover, owner and Mistress
for all eternity, even beyond the doors of death..." Shelly pressed her circling fingers hard into
her burning cunt as she watched Lisa's body jerk back in a tight, hard spasm of pleasure and
fucklust. The scream grew from a moan, louder and louder, filling her ears, and it began to echo in
Shelly, making her cum with her slave, cumming harder and harder, waves moving faster as the two
women consummated their depraved union. When Shelly finally was able to catch her breath, she sat
up on one elbow and said, "When Lisa is fully congruent with what you already know to be true, you
will seek me out. You will merge with Lisa and kneel before me. You will say, 'Mistress, the two
are of one mind, heart and soul. The chasm has been crossed. I am yours for eternity.' Do you
understand, Titwinkle?" Lisa was still panting as she answered in one simple word. "Yes...

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