The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rose of Forgetfulness

part 3

The city and Rose were still and quiet as Rose’s mind began to move again in the darkness that was both inside and surrounding her. The shades were pulled and only the dim glow of the sleeping city crept through the gaps around them into her bedroom, but not even a flicker from those diffuse lights fell into her eyes as they were completely covered. She began to twitch her numb body and limbs that had remained still for so long. She felt sleepily dizzy and dazed. She reached up to her head and with awkward movements managed to take the helmet off, her head falling limp back onto her pillows once it was removed. She reached between her legs without looking and removed what was there as well, her wide open thighs, warm and still and comfortably settled in their place, presenting no obstacle. Barely conscious, she gathered the things and placed them back in their box, covered them, and pushed them under the bed again by leaning over so far she nearly slipped onto the floor. This done, she sank back into the bed and let the still darkness of her room into guide her into sleep, forgetting everything that never happened.

* * *

Catherine was in the brightest desert. White sand dunes as far as she could see seared her eyes, shining like flames. The sun above blazing so hot it was nearly as white as the dunes. “Hello!?” The wind was howling yet the sky was unbroken, horrifying blue. The blowing sand stung her lips. She tried to cover them. “Hello?!” The blowing sand stung her eyes, and she tried to cover them. She stumbled forward, towards nothing, from nowhere. “Hello...” On and on the desert went, going nowhere, coming from nowhere. Catherine felt like she was going to die. The desert was killing her. Stumbling forward, towards nothing.

Suddenly the bright leaves of a palm peeked its head beyond a far dune. Catherine desperately tried to reach it, dragging her feet and legs through the heavy sand. But when she arrived it was gone. On and on she walked. Another palm peeked from beyond a distant dune. Again Catherine desperately tried to reach it through the blowing sand and blazing dunes. Her skin began to creak, her lips felt like they were blistering. “Please, help...” When she reached it, it was gone. Another palm, and she stumbled and stumbled on, her will and body nearly spent. Almost fainting, her head so dizzy she could barely think, she reached the palm, a real palm, and at its base a pond of still, clear, cool water. The palm stood watch. “Thank you!” she sobbed to the palm, and lurched toward the welcome waters. As she approached she noticed that the pond was dark, so extremely dark, darker than any pond she’d ever seen, almost black as night. So strange, with the blue sky and white sands and green palms, yet not a single reflection. She leaned over the cold waters and scooped them up in her hands, almost crying. The dark waters were completely black. As she raised the water to her lips, a pair of shining yellow eyes appeared in the depths of the dark water and stared. Right at her.

Catherine screamed, and woke up.

* * *

Rose awoke feeling good. Feeling really good. If, maybe... still a bit tired. But also aroused. Arousal warming her in all the right places and ways. She hummed approval as she slowly moved and bent her arms and legs. It would be so nice to lay in bed for a bit longer and let the morning light awaken her, let her arousal cool or flame in her as it wished, but as much as she’d like that she remembered the exciting thing that was going to happen today, the exciting thing that she’d been working and waiting on for so long; she finally had an interview with her dream fashion company. She couldn’t wait to get up.

Rose got up out of bed to shower. She was already naked but that hardly occurred to her to notice. She took a long, warm shower, letting the water wash the sleepiness out of her eyes, but as she ran her hands across her body her arousal only seemed to grow. She walked naked and wet across the apartment when she was done, sponging herself dry with a thick and fluffy white towel, and pulled the curtains wide open, inviting the world in. She smiled at the city, and hoped the city smiled at her back.

Rose’s apartment had begun gathering decorations since she moved in, mostly of sketches and drawings she had been making, pinning the ones she liked to the walls. Drawings of all kinds of clothing, drawings of women’s bodies in all shapes and sizes. She always felt oddly guilty about drawing for fun though, as if there were a difference in her head she couldn’t understand if she drew for practice or drew for her own edification. Lots of people drew for fun after all. But she usually forgot why she was drawing for fun and went back to practicing so the guilt never lasted very long; it just felt so much better to do that. She walked past these sketches pinned across her living room and kitchen walls that were glowing with the morning light, and went back to dress.

She did manage to complete a single sketch before her guilt at not working took over... a strange dreamy Rorschach-like drawing of what looked like a cliff and a beach and a boat that made her strangely uncomfortable. She had wadded it up to throw it away but without thinking had placed it in a drawer instead. It was still there.

Somewhat surprisingly to her, the erotic desires Rose awoke to weren’t diminishing in the slightest. They were only building and building. She felt charged, like she could spark, she could hold a light bulb and make it glow. She took a long time to dress for her success. She had spent virtually every spare dollar she had earned working at the coffee shop. A one-shoulder bisque-colored fitted stretch top, very expensive and tight and sheer enough to be almost see through and already nearly skin toned, a black plissé leather mini skirt that gave her legs for miles, and expensive burgundy satin designer sandals with 4″ heels. And then she pulled her skirt up a bit higher, pulled her shoulder down a bit lower, pulled the shirt across her chest as low as it could be supported. She went to the line of appropriateness and then took two steps past it. No panties of course, and she couldn’t wear a bra with this outfit anyway. Rose was sure that she would do anything to get this job. When she was done she walked to the mirror to appreciate her look. She ran her hands down her sides, smoothing the expensive clothing. Her pastel colored eyeshadow and very subtle cat’s eye eyeliner flashed back at her, and she gave the best bedroom eyes she could. She hardly need blush, her face was so flush. She could see her nipples happily making themselves at home through her tight, thin top, a top she yearned to just pull away. The way she felt she wanted to be asked to do anything. She felt like an expensively decorated and delicious treat waiting to be bought, unwrapped and enjoyed. She bent over a bit more, rubbed her thighs together, ran her free hand across her bottom and smiled luxuriously as she caressed her body in the mirror, her body tingling at the touch. Anything. How wonderful it would be if she could meet Catherine again looking so irresistible. Catherine never came back to the shop. Come find me Catherine... and unwrap me...

* * *

“Hey dickhead, get out of my shop!” Gwen was yelling at an ugly middle aged balding man had been who had been hitting on Jordan and refused to take no for an answer. “Nathaniel! Escort this guy out!” but Nathaniel was still paralyzed with indecision, still trying to understand the situation. “Sheesh! Whatever!” and Gwen grabbed the customer’s arm and drug him to the door herself. “You can’t throw me out! I’m a paying customer I...!” “Wrong! No dickheads welcome, check the sign! Bye dickhead!” and tossed him out of the shop. As he stumbled away, he stopped only to gape at Rose. Rose walked past him and into the shop. “Holy shiiiit Rose.” Gwen gaped as well. She looked like a million dollars. A million naked dollars. “Rose...” Gwen came up to Rose, looked her over carefully. Rose’s face was flush. She leaned in and whispered in Rose’s ear. “You need it bad, don’t you girl?” Rose didn’t answer but just leaned in closer, letting her body relax against Gwen’s. “Mmmhhh” she hummed to Gwen in response, eyes nearly closed. “Yea... I can’t put you out in front like that. Why don’t we get you to...” and she looked around and thought “...work the drive through window until your interview, ok?” Rose didn’t pull back at all. She moved her hands around Gwen’s body, one around her waist, the other around her neck, gently guiding her body closer, bringing her head against Gwen’s. Gwen could feel the heat from Rose’s body, feel her firm breasts press welcomingly into her own, smell her skin, feel her face against her neck... “ohh kay” Rose said breathily and softly into her, Rose’s lips brushing and tickling Gwen’s ear. Gwen pulled back looked at Rose and bit her lip. “Fuck Rose! Ugh!” She shook her head and laughed awkwardly. “Yea, I’m giving those drive though customers the best thing they’ll see all day for sure.” Gwen handed Rose an apron, and then walked back to the front, Jordan sneaking up behind her. “Jesus, look at Rose today.” “I know! what the hell is up with that woman.” “Gwen you know I’m straight as an arrow but I’m just telling you now, if Rose pulls me into the closest before she leaves, I’m saying “Fuck Yes!” and locking the door.” “Only if I’m not in there with her first! And also Jordan, if you’re in the closet with her you’re very much not in the closet.” “What?” “Pun?... never mind.”

Rose filled the orders in the drive through until lunch with such erotic energy Gwen wondered if they might call the news on her. “Irresistible woman serves coffee, tonight at 9!” She glided smoothly back and forth with half-lidded eyes and warm smiling lips, leaning in through the window and giving the customer as much an eyeful and earful as they could handle. One soccer-mom looking woman was so taken aback she started making stuttering, ridiculous small talk and holding up the entire line, unable to stop talking or even look away while Rose affably and unhurriedly chatted back, allowing her as much time to enjoy Rose as she desired, to the point the cars behind were honking. When Rose finally handed the woman her order she delivered it by reaching all the way through the woman’s car window and then brushed the woman’s arm with the tips of her fingers as she withdrew, never looking away, smiling with alluring eyes. The woman stumbled through a jumble of words, one of which was “thanks” but completely out of normal order, blushed madly and tried to pull away but, having suddenly forgotten how to drive, scraped her car’s bumper on a barrier. The men filled the tip jar with several normal days’ worth of tips in a couple of hours.

As Rose got ready to leave she made the rounds giving everyone hugs and saying her goodbyes, just in case she got the job and didn’t come back. Everyone wished her well, and everyone also assumed she’d get the job dressed like that. A part of Gwen was happy to get Rose out the door while she was in this state and set her off towards her fashionable destiny, but a part of her was... not. Rose seemed to fit in so well here... and she... liked Rose. Gwen and Rose left the store together and paused outside. “Hey, Rose, you know, if you don’t get the job, you can always come back here!” Gwen pulled off her beanie and let her mop of lavender and blue hair run free. “But I’m sure you’ll do fine. Isn’t this what you want?” Rose hugged Gwen. “Wish me luck Gwen!” Gwen hugged her back. “Of course! But...” and something at the back of Gwen’s mind had been itching. She may have never gone to college but she was a study of human behavior. Something had been bothering her about Rose, something strange and hidden and small that she couldn’t put her finger on. “...this is what you want, right?” Rose seemed a bit confused by this. “I... have to do this Gwen.” Gwen blinked at that, hard. “You have to Rose?” Rose seemed to sway a little. “I do... I have to.” “Because you want to work in the fashion industry, right?” “I... yes. Yes. Exactly! I have to do this because if I don’t, how will I ever break into the fashion industry!” Gwen gave Rose another hug. “Well, go break a leg out there Rose! Good luck!” Rose smiled and waved to Gwen as she walked away. When Rose was out of eyesight Gwen’s smile evaporated and she knitted her brow, troubled.

* * *

Rose had discovered the fashion studio she’d so almost irrationally wanted an interview with was actually located barely a few blocks from her apartment. Indeed she almost had to walk back to her apartment from where she started in the morning to reach it from the coffee shop. The studio spread over three floors in part of a large brick industrial building that had been renovated and refurbished. Aside from the old brick walls, everything was new. Expensive windows and doors, clean modern straight lines, and a small, expensive looking sign above the entrance. “BOLLORÉ” The entrance looked like a showroom, but a woman manned a desk at the front. “Yes?” She said with a pleasant smile, sizing Rose up. “I have an interview today with the Creative Director. My name is Rose Delaney.”

The secretary led Rose up the stairs and through a long hall on the second floor, covered in tables and sewing machines. A dozen young seamstresses were carefully sowing, fitting and cutting a variety of garments, each being fitting and measured precisely, needles in their mouth and hair, mannequins holding up the work still in progress, their workspaces a tidy mess of cut cloth and thread. Rose’s heels clicked as she walked. They occasionally looked up at her.

The third floor was far nicer. Large windows, and clean wood floors and stark white bare walls, only broken by the occasional piece of superfluous furniture. The hall doubled back towards the front of the building again. Rose past a couple large rooms with many women and a few men working at large desks with laptops, but most everyone was standing and talking, desks and walls covered in inspirational and competitors’ materials, photos and sketches and images of all manner and variety of clothes and models displaying them. Everyone was fashionably dressed. The flush in Rose’s face had cooled, and her desires somewhat diminished, but she still felt a distant tingle. “In here please.” The secretary led Rose, clutching her portfolio, to a side room, where a woman in her late 50s was standing and speaking jovially with a much young woman close to Rose’s age. When she spoke it was with the thick French-accented English. “An interviewee Ms. Bruyère?”. She turned and looked Rose over. “Ah yes, Ms. Delaney. Aren’t you lovely and ’stylish’ now? We’re so happy to have you show interest in our little studio. Please let me see your portfolio, and wait here. Ms. Bolloré is on the phone in an important meeting. I will look over your work and then we will talk together.” She looked at Rose’s line-crossing impropriety as if no one would notice in a fashion studio, smiled to herself, and walked away. Ah, another one.

Rose sat outside the closed doors of Ms. Bolloré’s office and waited. She heard the one-sided conversation of phones, drawers opening and closing, walking back and forth, the older woman’s accented voice pipping up here and there. Finally Rose heard steps toward the door. “Very good, you’re still here. Ms. Bolloré will see you now, and we will discuss your prospects. Please mind your manners and remember to whom your speaking. She is the owner of this company.” Rose followed her in. The office was pristine, pale woods and off-white walls, brightly lit. A clean desk, sparsely decorated. But against the back wall were dozens, if not hundreds, of photos, pictures, sketches, and clips of fashion clothing, models, awards, events, activities, large group photos, smiling friends and family and business associates in all manner of dress. And there at her desk was Catherine. Catherine from the coffee shop. Catherine Bolloré. Rose and Catherine’s eyes met. Both women gasped. Catherine dropped Rose’s portfolio. “You!”

Rose was so stunned she was speechless. Catherine looked even more incredibly beautiful than she remembered. What was there to say? “You’re Rose, the woman from the coffee shop!” Rose swallowed, but didn’t look away. “Yes, that’s me...” Madeleine was shocked. “What?? This is the young woman you told me about?” And she suddenly spoke to Rose sharply. “Why are you here, Rose?” Rose trembled. “I... I have been applying to many companies in the fashion industry after moving back to the country a few months ago. Yours looked amazing, like you were expanding into new markets and your clothes are so well designed...” She lowered her eyes. “I... didn’t know... Catherine... was...had... anything to do with this company...” Rose blushed, staring at Catherine, not looking away. “Rose, you’re...” and Catherine twisted and breathed “a... lovely young woman. You are, really, I mean that.” And she did. “And... I have thought about you... since that day. And I’ve wondered, why did you say it?” Rose’s face seemed to soften and glow. “Because you are beautiful to me...” Rose almost sighed. Catherine’s composure cracked. She put her hand to her head, thinking. Staring. They were both breathing harder. She turned back to Rose’s portfolio. Thumbing through it, looking at her artwork. The room was silent, except for the sound of pages turning. She hazarded a glance up. Rose never looked away. She smiled to herself and returned to the portfolio. “Hmm. I like this one, what do you think Madeleine?” Madeleine looked down at the page. “It’s nice.” Rose was breathing harder, her face seemed more flush than before. Catherine glanced at her again, almost in disbelief. “Rose... I...”Rose looked so doe-like and hopeful, waiting for a sign, almost on the edge of the chair. And hot. Really, really hot. Catherine rubbed her legs together. “We are looking to hire Rose, but it’s not just my decision. Madeleine always has veto over new employees. I would like to...to... “ and she caught herself quickly, then glanced at Madeleine. “Rose, stay here, and Madeleine and I will discuss your portfolio.” Catherine and Madeleine walked together to the door. As she past, Catherine ran the tips of fingers across Rose’s shoulder. Then they shut the door behind them, leaving Rose alone.

“[What do you think?]” Catherine said to Madeleine, in French. Madeleine looked long at Catherine. “[As your Production Manager and Senior Designer? She’s artistically talented but inexperienced. I’ve looked over her CV. No runway experience, no production experience, no storyboarding, no previous internships, no seamstress skills, ignorant of fabrics, not even hobby costume design. She draws well, but so do lots of pretty young women. Maybe we could use her in publicity and media. She’s too old to start a fashion career.]” Catherine’s professional composure cracked ever so slightly, the corners of her eyes and mouth crumpling, her eyes slightly dimming. “[Yes...of course... you’re...]”Madeleine leaned in, though it was unnecessary. “[But as your friend, you should hire her.]” Catherine’s heart skipped and her body shifted, a spark of hope rekindled. “Ma chérie”, Madeleine smiled in a friendly, mentoring way. “[I‘ve known you long enough to see that you’re pining for this girl. Are you not the owner of this company? Is it not your choice who to hire and fire? Responsibility!? To your pocketbook or your heart!?]” and she leaned in conspiratorially, her voice a bit lower. “[Are you going to let this delicious morsel slip from your plate to be lapped up by some undeserving dog? And as if she would be the first woman who slept her way into the fashion industry!]” and Madeleine laughed “[If it soothes your conscious, her desire for you is clearly genuine and not affected. Why, the lovely bird is probably spotting her chair, she aches so for you!]” Catherine raised her hands in horror, half hid her face and looked guiltily towards Rose and back to Madeleine. ”[Madeleine!? how could you say...]” “[Katerin, such faire tapisserie, sshh. Ever since you decided you preferred women your love life has been a big disaster. That electronic dating you tried, pfff! Most were men pretending to be women, and of the women, most wanted to be men. Enough. Must I drag you to her? Very well. Follow!]” and she pulled Catherine by the hand back towards her office. Madeleine stopped at the threshold of the door, looked around, thinking. After a moment, she spoke to Catherine. “[Your problem Catherine is that you’ve forgotten how to have fun.]” Smiling, she opened the office door and led them both in. Rose pivoted her seat, fear and hope mixing in her face, looking at Catherine.

“My dear Rose!” Madeleine said with confident theatricality, “We think you’re wonderfully qualified for our company!” Rose leapt to her feat, beaming. “Oh thank you so very much!” she exclaimed happily to Catherine. “Qualified my dear, not hired. We haven’t yet officially offered you a job.” Rose looked to Madeleine again, confused. “You must first pass a test.” And Madeleine walked around Rose, faux-sizing her up. “To see what you’re made of. Succeed, and the job is yours!” Madeleine looked to Catherine, eyes flashing. “Grab that easel, the paper and pencils, Rose.” Rose almost ran in eagerness but found the menagerie cumbersome as she gathered it all in her arms, the paper half spilling to one side, the pencils jutting from all angles from between her fingers, the easel’s legs sticking out in every wrong direction. “Oh, let me...” Catherine exclaimed, walking towards Rose. “[Let her carry it!]” Madeleine imperiously demanded to Catherine. Catherine stopped, and Madeleine smiled. “Come my dears, follow me!”. On her way out the door, she passed by the garment rack and plucked from it a very large ostrich feather. Rose followed behind, juggling all the implements, stretching herself, forced to reveal more and more of her lovely form as she did so, her tight, fashionable clothes that barely hid her modesty hardly any help. And Catherine following behind Rose, biting her lip, watching.

Madeleine led them to the back of their office space, through a locked door and into a room that had yet to be refurbished. Old wooden floors and brick walls, with high small industrial windows and iron girders supporting a high vaulted roof. Piles of fabrics and rolls of materials, along with miscellaneous office materials lie stacked on one or another side, but the room remained mostly empty. The room was brightly lit by sunlight streaming in through the high windows, but no electric lights were installed. It was warm. As they walked in their heels clapped upon the hard floor. Among the office chairs stored here Madeleine found a older plush one with arms, and pushed it to one side of the room. She then reached into a pile of discarded fabrics and found what looked like an thick but clean floral blanket. She laid it on the floor in the middle of the room. “Set up your easel here Rose in front of the blanket, take off your shoes and stand on it.” Rose’s heart skipped. She wanted this so much... but what if she ruined it going too fast, going too far? And what were they doing? She vowed to let herself be led wherever they wanted her to go. She set down her easel, slipped off her burgundy sandal heels and left them by the door. She looked at Catherine. “Catherine, sit in the chair.” Catherine blinked, walked to the chair and sat down. She worried with her fingers, watching Rose.

“Good.” Madeleine found an old discarded blouse. Found an old rack, pulled it in front and to the side of the easel, so Rose could see it. Rose was facing the easel, Catherine on the side of the room to her left. She couldn’t see Catherine without turning her head. “Now, my dear, draw this please.” “Yes, of course!”

Rose worked like she’d never worked before. She focused all her thoughts on that blouse, on every line and button and seam. Catherine could see her body straining as she reached to the easel. See her legs shift and flex, her short skirt swishing to and fro, see her face and eyes flitting back and forth across the page as she worked. Madeleine smiled, pacing around Rose. “Faster, dear Rose, show us what you’re capable of!” Rose worked even faster. Madeleine looked towards Catherine. She was sitting cross legged, her thighs squeezed tightly together, her feet dancing, rubbing her fingers and hands together, wearing a look of worried and uncertain desire.

After a while, Madeleine interrupted Rose. “That’s enough dear!” Rose looked eagerly toward Catherine, but Madeleine stepped between them and gently pushed Rose’s face back to the easel with one finger on her chin. “No no, dear, face the easel. You’re to stand here and draw.” She tore the page from easel, walked across and handed it to Catherine. Neither of them looked at it for a second. Catherine bit her lip and breathed in hard, her heart skipping.

“What wonderful work Rose! You’re nearly done. We so want to give you this job, but there’s one thing more you need to draw, and one more thing you need to do...” “You see, in France, when women graduate from medical or fashion schools, they take off their clothes and present themselves to their advisors.” Madeleine winked at Catherine. “Everyone does it and no one minds. Maybe it’s old fashioned or even sexist by your Anglo-Saxon standards! But it’s just what we know, Rose, and I’m cut from old cloth. Please now, don’t be bashful, pull your top down so we can see you and enjoy you.” Rose and Catherine both gasped. Catherine bites her finger. Rose turns to look at Catherine, astonished. “Tut tut, girl, face the easel.” Madeleine guided Rose’s face back to the easel. “No need to be demure, just pull your top down. It can sit around your hips and be happy there.” Rose pulled her top down, her breasts bouncing out of the tight clothing, her top gathered around her waist. Her nipples were hard. Catherine began to shake a little. Rose’s and Catherine’s heads were starting to spin.

“Absolutely stunning, Rose, congratulations on being such a beauty! Now we have another drawing to make. Please pay attention to the easel Rose.” “Hmm. Are you familiar with Henri Gervex?” Rose shook her head. “Of course you’re not, education today! Catherine, can you use your phone to bring up a picture of Rolla?” Catherine obliged, trembling. Madeleine walked over and picked it up. She smiled again at Catherine, to steady her nerves for what was coming. Madeleine handed the phone to Rose. “Do you see the lovely swan stretched out on her bed? You should already know how to draw the female form if you’re to work in fashion. Can you see her clearly? Please, lets’s begin to draw her now. Start with the bed. No need to capture every detail of that, we just need a place for her to relax.” Rose was flushing and her head was spinning even more. She pressed her thighs together, trying to hide her growing dampness. She held the phone with her left and and began to sketch with her right. Suddenly she felt an incredible caress of a thousand soft fingers on her naked back. “Ooh!” She started, looked around to see Madeline holding the large feather, but Madeleine guided her head back to the easel. “Sshh, Rose, concentrate on your work.” Rose sighed as she tried to concentrate on drawing while feeling the feather caress her ever more sensitive skin. Madeleine paced around her, caressing her back and neck with the feather. Rose’s thighs were shifting, her head was ever so slightly bobbing, trembling. “Uhh!” Catherine gasped. The chair she sat in began to creak as she strained against it. “Ooh!” “Gooood Rose. Good girl, that’s a lovely bed to enjoy her in.” Rose’s spinning head tried to parse those words. “Now we need to draw her. But can we not improve Gervex’s work? I think we can Rose. Let’s make her breasts a little larger and her legs so much wider apart. Can you imagine that Rose? Start to draw her arms now.” Rose sketched her legs wide apart, her knees up, so her sex will be facing the viewer. She began to draw her arms. As she did, Madeleine caressed Rose’s arms with the feather. Rose shook even more, gasping again. “Ooh!” “Shh Rose, face the easel and keep drawing.” Every detail of her arms as she drew as matched by a caress from Madeleine’s feather. When she drew her elbows, Madeleine caressed her own. When she drew her shoulders, her shoulders were caressed. A thousand tiny kisses on her tingling sensitive skin, building a pressure in her she couldn’t release...”Ooh!” “Wonderful Rose. Now her breasts.” Catherine let out a moan. Rose gasped. As she drew, Madeleine drew the feather up to her nipple, turned the feather, and pulled the feather’s entire narrow side across it. Rose’s knees started to weaken, her whole body tingling. “Ooohh!” “Yes Rose, she’s looking so well. What do you think Catherine? Come here.” Catherine was almost mesmerized, she walked dazedly to Madeleine. She could feel Rose’s body radiating warmth. Catherine’s head was spinning such that it was hard to think. Madeleine handed the feather to her. “Wonderful Rose. You’ll finish your test with Catherine now. Au revoir!” As Madeleine walked to the exist, she looked at Catherine. “[Finish what’s been started Katerin! Be brave!]” and then she shut and locked the door behind her.

“Catherine! I...” and suddenly Catherine leaned forward and softly kissed Rose on the neck. She leaned into Rose’s ear. Swallowed, and said “Shh. Rose, let’s finish this. Don’t look away. Listen to my voice guide you.” and she kissed her gently again. It was like stars in Rose’s eyes, her head spun, and she leaned back and moaned. Finally! Catherine’s lips on her body! “Ooohhh!” Catherine picked up the feather, and began to caress Rose with it. “Catherine...” and she began to draw again. “Draw her legs, Rose, her thighs.” Rose drew, moaning. She dropped the phone on the blanket. Catherine began to undress her. Unhooking her skirt and pulling it away, pulling her shirt down to her feet. Catherine and Rose both gasped, because it felt so good to Rose and because Rose was so smooth and naked to Catherine. “Part your legs Rose!” which she instantly did, and Catherine began to caress Rose’s belly and thighs with the feather. Back and forth, front and back. Catherine put her free hand around Rose’s waist and almost without thinking began to run the tips of her fingers across Rose’s body. “Oh god...” “Good Rose, don’t look away, keep drawing.” And she drew and drew and drew, her head almost about to fall off, her knees trembling. She wanted to fall to the ground and give herself, give herself completely, but Catherine wasn’t letting her go. “Rose...” she breathed into Rose now “draw... her...sex...” “OOH!” Rose nearly collapsed. “Catherine...” “Do it Rose, for me. Draw her for me. Draw every single bit.” And then Catherine slipped the feather between Rose’s legs, and began to pull it across her crotch. She breathed on Rose’s neck, warm soft puffs of air behind her ear, her left hand caressing Rose’s body, her right hand pulling the feather back over and over between Rose’s legs.

Rose entered a state of near delirium. She was losing control even of her thoughts. She felt herself opening and accepting everything now. Catherine kept caressing her body, turning her face back to the easel, kissing and blowing warm soft breaths on her neck, dizzying her almost the point of breaking. She felt herself being pulled into the drawing she was making, no longer struggling to look away but to go into it, through it, through to Catherine...

“Feel it Rose...” “Yes!” she said, drawing madly through her half-lidded eyes which wanted to close and submit so badly. Drawing the woman’s sex lips. Catherine bringing the feather between her legs, pulling it through her, kissing her with a thousand soft kisses, her sex throbbing, needing...feeling everything, accepting everything, letting the feelings into her in every way, letting them make her body respond in every way....

“Feel it Rose!...” “Ohh yes yes!...” and she was drawing every fold, ever crease, her eyes almost crossed, head rocking on her neck, straining so hard to focus on the drawing while accepting everything without the slightest resistance. Kisses on her neck, the feather between her legs...

“Ohh yesss!”

Caresses and kisses and her hand drawing where her clit would be and...

“Yesss!!”

Caresses and kisses and spinning and throbbing and every little fold...

“Yessss!!!”

Caresses and kisses and every crease her trembling sweating breathing...

“Oooohhhh!!!!”

Caresses panting breathing the easel and her sex and Catherine and and and...

“OOH!!!!!!”

Rose finally gave in completely, her eyes rolled backs and sank into Catherine arms, who dropped the feather and plunged her welcome fingers into Rose’s wet sex as she guided her body down to the blanket. Rose shuddered and moaned loudly, body rocking up and down as her whole body surrendered and was fulfilled with the deepest orgasm. Catherine covering her with kisses and caresses as her fingers gave Rose what she so desperately needed.

After a few minute Rose looked up towards Catherine, sitting up next to Rose on the planet, caressing her and smiling, equally flush, sweat on her face. She smiled back and reached to Catherine’s blouse and began to remove it. Catherine’s hands were more than eager to help.

Two hours later, Madeleine cracked open the door. Both were naked on the blanket, facing each other, legs wrapped around each others’ waists, kissing deeply, hands moving across each other’s bodies. Without disturbing them she slowly shut and locked the door again.

After four hours, Rose and Catherine were much calmer now, tangled into each other on the blanket, occasionally trading soft kisses and gentle caresses, facing each other and smiling happily. Catherine’s phone had been receiving messages all this time, and with her passions having been sated enough, she finally managed to care. “Oh, darn. Rose, we have to clean up and leave. Do you... mind?” She kissed Catherine again deeply. “Of course not...” and rubbed her nose gently against Catherine’s. She texted Madeleine, who came equipped with mirrors and brushes and a makeup kit and even a change of clothes for Catherine. Catherine left first, kissing Rose on the way out. Rose was briefly left alone. She had never been happier, even if nothing happening made the slightest sense. Rose took awhile brushing her hair and redoing her makeup, sponging herself off with a towel, finally putting on her clothes and shoes and spraying herself with the perfumes Madeleine brought, hoping she didn’t smell too obviously like sex. She was sure she still glowed.

Madeleine was waiting for her outside, smiling. “Well done Rose! It goes without saying, but of course you have the job! Come back 8am sharp tomorrow and we’ll get you started in your new ‘career’!” and winking at Rose, led her out of the office. As she was leaving she passed Catherine speaking with a very young woman. Catherine smiled at Rose. “Oh, Rose, let me introduce you two.” Rose looked at the young woman’s face closely and gasped. Her head spun. She got a sense of déjà vu. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Every man’s deepest desire...

“Rose, this is my daughter. Emily.”

* * *

Rose was lying on her bed. It was dark outside, but the darkness in her mind was deeper. She was speaking. She was holding her second phone closely to her head.

“yess.”

“yess.”

“yess.”

She paused, staring with glazed eyes. A long moment passed. She spoke again.

“Em.i.ly.”