The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Something shimmered at the corner of Gillian’s eye. She turned her head, glancing around at the other partygoers. Some of the most prominent figures in town were laughing nearby, and an appellate court judge was explaining how he met his trophy wife. There’s nothing there. Again.

The man standing across from her gave her a strange look, and Gillian laughed nervously. “Just thought I heard someone say my name.” She took another sip of wine from her cocktail glass.

Colin nodded, his eyes subtly looking her over. She did not plan on going home with Mr. Rosen’s son, but the night was still young. “Jill, right? So how do you know my parents?”

Gillian said something in response, only half aware that she was even speaking. The shimmer was there again, lingering just at the edge of sight. It took all of her willpower not to walk away from him and track it down. As Colin kept trying to charm his way into her bed, she smiled and finished her drink.

Gillian had ambitions, to be sure. When Charles Rosen had invited her to his party, she jumped at the chance to socialize with all of his rich and powerful friends, especially those in the legal profession. She got out her red cocktail dress, the one that was sexy without being slutty, and she went to a salon to have her blonde hair extravagantly styled. Money was no object, not when it came to impressing this crowd.

As far as Gillian was concerned, anyone who claimed that looks didn’t matter was living in a fairy tale world. The trick was to make everyone want you without becoming a laughing stock the next day. Gillian had never slept with a superior, never dressed like a tramp in the office place, but she had the sultry good looks to stand out in a job interview or disarm an opposing witness. As with every other advantage at her disposal, she used her sex appeal to further an already promising career.

Now that she was a guest at her boss’s house, though, the mysterious, shimmering light was distracting Gillian from her reason for coming in the first place. It seemed to appear the most when Colin was around her, which was growing more and more frequent. At first, he had been the one seeking her out. However, Gillian had gradually found herself thinking up new excuses to run into Mr. Rosen’s son. She was hoping to get a closer look at whatever kept catching her eye, so that she could get it out of her mind. That Colin was handsome and charming certainly didn’t hurt, either.

Something shimmered among the group mingling in the corner, but it was gone before Gillian could pinpoint it. She nodded at whatever Colin was now saying, not interested in a word of it. He only wanted to fuck her, anyway. The rest was just window dressing.

You’re being rude. Someone’s talking to you, and there’s a good chance he’ll be getting in your panties tonight, so quit worrying about some stupid light. Gillian smiled flirtatiously, stroking her leg without realizing it. “So tell me about this yacht of yours...”

Gillian grabbed a glass of wine from a waiter’s tray and nervously downed it. She could not remember ever being so horny, but that was not the only thing eating away at her thoughts. There was some undefined longing that demanded satisfaction, and she knew only one way to scratch this particular itch. She had to find Colin again. She had to get close to the source of the shimmer.

Whatever it was, she hungered for it. She would do anything to have it. Gillian did not claim to understand what was happening to her, but the need was undeniable and growing stronger. Nothing else seemed to matter as much, not even her job.

She had just sighted Colin flirting with a waitress when the shimmer disappeared around a corner. Too distracted to be angry at him, she followed the light into a short hallway. Whatever happened next, she had to know what she was dealing with.

The door to the guest bedroom was ajar, and Gillian slipped inside without hesitation. She found a sexy redhead standing by the bed, wearing a slinky gold dress that was a bit small for her. The dress shimmered with every motion of her body, the light playing tricks on Gillian’s eyes. She had never seen a more beautiful sight.

The redhead grinned in Gillian’s direction, but her smile quickly faded. She looked down at the bed, holding back tears. “Sorry. I was expecting someone else.” Then she smirked bitterly. “I guess he really doesn’t see me.”

Gillian closed the door behind her. “I see you.” She slipped her dress down, and she was naked underneath. “I want you.” She fingered herself, staring at the woman with growing lust. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. “I can’t think about anything else.”

The redhead glanced up and down Gillian’s body, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I’ve never been with a woman before.”

“Neither have I. But I’m willing to give it a shot.” Gillian drew closer, sliding her hands over her butt. “We’ll figure something out.”

After a moment, the redhead nodded. She peeled off her tight dress before throwing it across the room. Gillian’s eyes followed it like a beacon, only stopping when it disappeared behind the bed. Her lover now wore a silky black bra and panties, her stockings held up by a matching garter belt.

Gillian admired the woman’s lingerie-clad body, feeling both lust and a deeper longing. The redhead stepped forward and kissed her sensuously. She stared into Gillian’s eyes with undisguised pain. “I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”

“So stay.” Gillian kissed the redhead back, unhooking her garters. “Let me take care of you.”

As they came together in a passionate embrace, it occurred to Gillian just how lonely she was. She was always throwing herself into work, or into some frivolous affair, but it had never truly replaced having a loved one in her life. She needed someone to love, someone who would stay. Nothing else would satisfy her anymore.

They fell onto the bed, and then Gillian removed her lover’s bra and tossed it aside. “I need you,” she whispered into the redhead’s ear, their bodies grinding against each other. She hoped that they would never be apart.

Her lover’s only response was a plaintive moan. The redhead slipped off her panties, and then Gillian ran her mouth down the woman’s curvaceous body. She had never wanted another woman before, but she desperately wanted this. She felt like her tongue had been created for the redhead’s pleasure. Stay with me. Stay forever.

Gillian opened her eyes, squinting against light that was pouring through the bedroom window. The morning rays had spread across the bed, casting a glow on her naked form. The redhead was gone. She had never even learned her lover’s name, and it made her heart ache.

Feeling cold as well as lonely, she pulled the covers around her and hugged her body tight. Gillian wondered what the Rosens thought of her staying the night, or if they even knew that she was here. It was a large house, after all, and there was a chance that she could sneak out unnoticed. For now, though, all that she wanted to do was sink under the covers, alone with her memories of the night before.

Then she rolled onto her side, and something on the floor caught her eye. The redhead had left her a gift, shining with golden brilliance in the early sunlight. Smiling, Gillian slipped out of bed and knelt on the carpet. She held the shimmering dress against her bare skin, her eyes filled with wonder. The fabric was warm to the touch, and the dress was a perfect fit, as if it had been tailored with her in mind. She had never felt sexier.

As she dressed herself and made the bed, Gillian knew that things would be different for her. She would get over the redhead. There would be someone else in her life, someone better, and she would never have to wake up alone again. She was meant to be happy. She was meant to be loved.

Gillian took one last look at the bed, remembering her lover with the sad eyes. Then she opened the window and climbed out.

The blaze of the bonfire was strong now, beating back the dark of night. Justine could hear the boys laughing, but it seemed distant, trivial. Her eyes were fixed blankly on the charred marshmallow at the end of her stick. It fell into the flames, but her stare never wavered.

A voice was whispering in her ear, and she absorbed every last detail. Someone unbuckled and unzipped her jeans. It seemed so far away. Justine dropped the stick into the fire, and then she lay back. Someone’s hands were fondling her breasts.

A boy pulled her pants down, and Justine smiled at him. She had a crush on Tommy. “Am I dreaming?” she muttered. It felt like a dream.

Tommy grinned and started to remove his clothes, and she could see the other boys doing the same. “Yeah, it’s all just a dream, Justine. A very nice dream. It’s one you’ve had before. You remember how it goes?”

A memory surfaced, very sharp in her mind. She slipped out of her silky white panties. “It’s okay to have fun, because it’s just a dream. It’s okay to be a slut in my dreams.”

Tommy climbed on top, and she could feel him inside of her. “That’s a good girl, Justine. Good girls are slutty in their dreams, so they can be good in real life. So what happens next in your dream?”

“I get naked.” Justine pulled her sweatshirt over her head, and someone else began to kiss her bare breasts. The warmth from the fire was nice against her skin.

Tommy finished soon enough, and then he moved aside. Another boy rode Justine, his hands massaging her breasts as he rammed into her. Her tranquil eyes never left Tommy.

They were lining up now, and Justine waited patiently until each of the boys had taken a turn. Then she took someone’s cock in her mouth and sucked it like the slutty girls did. She was only slutty in her dreams, though.

The boy came hard. They told her to swallow, and they laughed when she did. Someone called her a whore. It all seemed so unimportant.

Tommy called Justine over to him, and she crawled naked through the dirt. She sucked his cock eagerly, pretending that she was his slut. When she woke up, maybe he would let her be his girlfriend. Tommy liked girls that put out, but maybe he would make an exception this time. He came in her mouth, and she swallowed without being told. She was acting like a slut, and that was what sluts did.

Justine sat on Tommy’s lap and began to ride him, moaning. Her legs wrapped tight around his waist as he sucked on her breasts. Just a dream. It’s okay to have fun, because it’s just a dream. The fire crackled, heating her naked flesh, and she orgasmed in his arms. Just a dream.

Justine was curled up on her bed in a long t-shirt, staring at nothing in particular. Her room was dark and quiet, but haunting laughter kept playing in her head.

The police would not help her. They said that it had been consensual, that there had been no drugs and no force. They said that she had let the boys do those things to her. She knew better.

Now all she needed was a gun.

Gordon checked his watch one last time, and then he opened the bathroom door. The shower curtain was still closed, and the water was running. According to the directions on the shampoo bottle, Faith would be ready by now. He had already gotten naked in anticipation.

He slid the shower curtain open and found Faith standing there, fingering herself. Gorgeous as always, she turned her lustful blue eyes toward him. His friend seemed confused at first, but then she smiled seductively. “Gordon. I fuck.” She stepped out of the shower and into his arms. Her hands felt soapy against his back, but he barely noticed.

Faith moaned as Gordon ran his mouth over her large, beautiful breasts. She fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth. He smiled down at her, his thoughts growing slippery. A pleasant tingling sensation had spread through his back. This nice. Faith and mouth fucking. Sucking cock.

When Faith had finished pleasuring him, she began to fondle herself. Gordon climbed on top of her, his mouth making love to the curves of her body. There was something that he was supposed to do, something important, but it was too hard to think. His eyes wandered over smooth, glistening skin and slick blond hair, and lust drowned out everything else. I fuck. Then he slid his cock deep inside.

The bathroom mirror had steamed over. Gordon ran his tongue between Faith’s breasts, and she bucked underneath him, moaning. “Gordon...yes...”

Groping her breasts, he began to ram into her again. She was radiant and spirited, everything he had imagined she would be, and he wished that this moment could last forever.

Faith orgasmed, and then she stared into his eyes with a sleepy grin. “How did this happen? I never thought...not with you...”

Gordon shook his head, dizzy from lust. “I can’t remember. But it was nice.” Something I was supposed to do...

She kissed him softly. “The shower’s running. I think you should join me.” Gordon agreed with every fiber of his being.

“Forget about that girl,” his mother said when he came home from the festival, smiling and full of spirit. “Marissa’s just too pretty. There’s plenty of other girls you could have, Travis.”

Travis didn’t want the other girls, though. Marissa was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he even thought that he might love her. He told himself that there was always hope.

It was a lie.

Travis was lingering in the marketplace when the Leaders came into town. Their golden hovercraft was blinding in the afternoon sun, and he had to squint to make anything out. He briefly wondered what business had brought them here, and how it would affect him and rest of the town. Then he saw her, and nothing else seemed to matter.

As usual, the Leaders had each brought two concubines for show. Marissa was with the Leader at the back of the platform, the only one that could be considered handsome. She was wearing a flowing purple gown, its slit revealing a lacy black stocking. Her brown hair was in stylish curls, her lips red and glistening. She looked more beautiful than ever, and his heart ached for her.

Marissa did not notice him, of course. She stared at the Leader as if he were the only man in the world, her eyes broadcasting love and lust for everyone to see. Travis grew hard as he thought of the things she would do for him later. They were things she had never done for Travis, because she had wanted to wait. The girls always wanted to wait, even if there was nothing to wait for.

A part of him wished that he was the Leader, that Marissa was worshipping him, and he hated himself for it. He hated them more, though. As the hovercraft turned the corner and disappeared from view, Travis made his way to the flour mill.

When the girls in town turned eighteen, the Leaders came for the ones that they wanted. They were always the most beautiful, because their minds ended up being whatever the Leaders wanted them to be. The girls that were passed over stayed in town and married. Marissa had not been passed over, to no one’s surprise.

Travis grimaced and shoveled more grain into the mill, trying to keep his thoughts off of Marissa. When he was angry, it seemed that work was the only thing that helped. Right now, it was not helping.

“Travis.” Emily startled him, and he dropped the shovel. He found her leaning against the machine, her arms crossed. “I guess you saw.”

Emily was the closest thing that Travis had to a girlfriend, now that Marissa was gone. She was also the smartest girl that he knew, which was a constant source of frustration for him.

Travis nodded and went back to shoveling. “Yeah. I’d like to be alone, if that’s okay.”

Smiling, she sat down on a nearby table. “Nice try. Get over here.” Emily was a pretty redhead, with little freckles dotting her nose, but maybe not attractive enough for the Leaders. If she was still around a year from now, Travis would marry her. He could live with that.

There was a light in Emily’s eyes, and he glanced at her breasts with mild longing. He sat beside her and leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her head away. Travis grimaced. “Fine, whatever.”

She grabbed his arm before he could stand. “We need to talk first. I have a theory about the Leaders.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Wait, let me guess. They’re a bunch of assholes that boss us around all the time. And we can’t do shit about it, because we just end up doing whatever they want. Something like that?”

Emily placed her hand on his. “Listen to me. The Leaders have been around for as long as anyone can remember, so we don’t really know how they came into power. Any history we’ve been taught might be lies.”

“You know how they came into power.” He tapped a finger against his temple.

“Right, but we don’t how they do it. Growing up, we were always told that they can control our thoughts and our emotions. I believe the first part, but I don’t think they can control what we feel. I think...I think they redirect the emotions we already have.”

Travis sighed. Half of the things that Emily said went over his head. “What does that mean?”

“Well, take the way that everyone always works when we get angry. We don’t fight. We don’t run away. We work, which just means more for the Leaders to take. So why do it?”

“Because they make us.” He ran his hand up and down her leg.

“Yes. But why not make it so we don’t feel angry? Maybe they couldn’t take our anger away, and bottling it up only made us snap and go crazy. So they redirected it into work. That way, we let off some steam, and they get more production.”

Travis kissed her, groping her thigh. “Fuck it. I don’t want to talk about them anymore.”

She gently pulled away. “And then there’s how the girls in town always wait for marriage. It’s one thing from the girls who know they won’t get taken, but why would Marissa wait? She knew what was coming, so why not be with someone while she still had a choice?”

He looked away in pain and frustration. “I don’t know.” I wish I did.

“Travis, they use it to control the girls more easily. All of that pent-up desire just gets redirected onto the Leaders.”

Travis slowly nodded, biting his lip. “That’s really great, Emily. Here I thought those dickheads were controlling my whole mind, and now I know they’re controlling just enough that I can’t do shit about it. That’s so much better. Now can we please just make out, so I don’t have to think about it? I just...I can’t win. I can’t do a fucking thing, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.” He stared at her. “Please.”

Emily smiled warmly at him, and then she began taking her shoes off. “For a long time, I was afraid of being with a boy. I knew that my fear was the fear of something else, and they just redirected it onto that, but I couldn’t shake it.”

Now standing, she unzipped her jeans and slipped them down. Her panties were orange cotton, tightly hugging her body. “I couldn’t overcome it. There was something wrong with my mind, something that needed to be fixed.”

She kept talking as if nothing had changed, but Travis barely noticed. He stared in disbelief as she pulled her shirt over her head, his cock growing harder by the second. Then he started to undress.

Walking away from him, Emily unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. “So I trained myself. Every time I thought about being with a boy, every time I felt that fear sink in, I did something that felt nice. Something that felt the way that being with a boy would feel. I kept doing it until I wasn’t afraid anymore.” She lay down in the pile of grain and fixed her eyes on him, her fingers slipping into her panties. “I did it until the thought of being with you made me hungry.”

Travis fell on top of her, kissing her passionately, but Emily stopped him. “Do you know what this means, Travis?”

He nodded, nearly breathless. “No more waiting.”

“No, not that.” Her eyes were shining as she stared into his. “I know how to fight them.”

A chill hung in the autumn air. Tiny streams of water wound their way amongst stones, cascading gently down a rocky slope. Further downstream, the creek’s smooth, black surface was broken only by the moon’s reflection.

The glowing disk was eclipsed by darkness. A beast scanned its surroundings as it drew close to the ground, guided more by smell than sight. For a moment, the moonlight exposed a hint of red in one glowering eye. Then it was on the move again, sweeping through the forest with a predator’s grace.

A carnal scent tantalized the beast, leading it to the edge of a small clearing. The earth here seemed foul, not fit for seeding, but a cottage still stood in its midst. The only window was lit by the soft, flickering glow of fire. Fearing a hunter, the wolf crept forward on all fours.

Through the window, a woman in a modest dress could be seen. She rocked in a chair by the fire, feeding the baby at her breast. Her gentle smile made her seem almost beautiful. The wolf snarled, its eyes on the young one. Visions flashed in its head, its human side recalling dreams and memories of slaughter.

The bloodlust took hold, silencing thought and fear, painting everything crimson. The wolf quickly circled the house and slammed into the door. Large splinters formed in the wood, and another thrust took it clean off of its hinges.

Flames from the fireplace licked the air, stretching out in waves like tentacles. The woman rose, fearless, no child in sight. As the wolf lunged for her, a thousand sparks of light filled her golden hair. They pierced the red blanket of the beast’s sight, blinding it.

Glittering stars swam before the wolf’s eyes, leaving behind contrails of luminous white. Dazzled, it fell helplessly to its knees. The beautiful woman strode forth in a cloak of purple flame, her flowing blonde hair still brimming with light. The cloak unfurled and fell away, slipping back into the fireplace. She now wore a lavish gown of green silk, the bodice lined with precious jewels. Her lovely breasts could scarcely be contained by its plunging neckline.

Unable to look away, the wolf was reduced to growls and other guttural noises. The witch smiled, staring down at him through cobalt blue eyes. “My pet. My love. Change for me.”

The transformation was instantaneous, uncontrollable. Fur and claws retracted, leaving him naked and freezing on the cottage floor. The man groveled at the witch’s feet, disgusted by what he had become. He lusted after her, longed to do anything that she asked of him, and he hated her for it. He hated her for making him feel human.

The witch’s fingers ran through his wild hair, and he rubbed his face against the skirt of her dress. “Good boy. I see you have something to offer me.” Her eyes were lingering between his legs, and it made him hard.

He nodded, shivering. Struggling for human words, he came up with only one that fit. “Queen.”

The witch grinned, stroking her body with her fingertips. “Yes, my pet. You love your queen, don’t you? Now be a dear and give me what I want.”

Moments later, he had her on the bed. His mouth lunged for her chest and tore the bodice to shreds, and then he sucked on her glorious breasts with full abandon. She gently laughed and lifted her skirt, tempting him with her nudity. The man held nothing back, every ounce of passion poured into the forceful thrusting of his cock. He loved and hated her with each snarling breath.

They lay in bed afterward, the witch running her fingers along the man’s muscular chest. Her smile was as affectionate as it was triumphant. “Don’t be ashamed of falling to my charms. I’ve been all over the world in my time, and I’ve tamed mightier beasts than you. I’ve summoned spirits and tricked demons, brought devastation to vast kingdoms. Even the greatest evil can’t help but love me.”

He kissed her the way that she had taught him, wondering how it would taste to bite her lip. “Love.”

She sat up, and the covers slipped down from her bare, silky breasts. The man hungered for her in more ways than one. “You must be ready to feed now. I wanted you nice and hungry, because I have a problem that needs dealt with.”

The witch pressed her body against him, her leg sliding up his own, and he grew hard again. She whispered seductively into his ear as her hand massaged his cock. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make sure that you’re always satisfied, in every possible way.”

He listened, ready to obey his queen.

The man made his way back to the creek, as the witch had instructed. When he reached the cascade, he knelt by the water’s edge and closed his eyes. A vision came to him of a village ravaged by plague. The wolf clung to the church rooftop, waiting to strike.

He saw the witch stumbling through the village streets, her dress tattered and filthy. The townspeople laughed and taunted her, their eyes burning with hatred. She made them sick. She tempted them with visions of sin. She was the evil in every human heart.

They shoved and prodded her, forcing her to the ground again. Her hands dug through mud, but she could not stand. She cried out against their beatings, the sound falling on deaf ears.

Then he leapt through the air, descending upon her. The wolf was unbridled destruction, wrath made flesh. They cheered as he slaughtered her, inviting the brutality of death. The witch was lowly now, as they were. Everyone and everything fell to death’s merciless hand.

The man’s vision was bathed in red, human thought giving way to bloodlust. He opened his eyes and scrambled up the slope. Claws penetrated his flesh, scraping against rock. Dark water splashed beneath him. He lunged into the forest, and common beasts fled from his path.

The wolf broke into a run, ignoring the branches that whipped at him. An irresistible scent now had him in its grip. He saw his way by the light of the moon.

The cliff rose a hundred feet over the highway embankment. Stars sparkled in the night sky, valentines from cosmic messengers long extinguished. From here, the city was just a blanket of white lights, spread liberally across the California landscape.

Isabel stood at the edge of the cliff, tears streaming down her cheeks, daring the wind to seal her fate. It merely whipped at her dress, though, tails of violet silk flapping and clinging to her shapely legs.

She wavered at the brink of a choice, possibly the last that she would ever make. Isabel thought again of those words she once whispered, cradled in Olivia’s loving arms. There’s nothing. It’s all darkness.

Isabel’s life of freedom had been one painful experience after another. Being pretty and smart didn’t amount to much when growing up in a crime-ridden Latino ghetto. She gradually learned to shut out the outside world, to avoid feeling altogether, but the pain was not so easily defeated. After the miscarriage, she decided that she had had enough. Olivia found her pale and retching on a bathroom floor, too cowardly to let the pills and alcohol finish the job.

Even then, she knew that there was something different about Olivia. People had shown her sympathy on occasion, but never before had their feelings resonated in her. Isabel pulled away in fear, preferring death to the risk of inviting heartache, but she was too weak to stop the woman from carrying her away.

She awoke in a strange bed, somewhere outside of the city limits. Olivia’s villa was filled with lively young women, and she could hear them fraternizing through the bedroom door. One of them watched over her, kissing and caressing her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Isabel soon learned that her name was Lynn, and that she was in charge when Olivia went away.

A couple of days later, Isabel crawled out of bed and stumbled to the window. She was wearing a lace-trimmed nightie, short enough to show off her smooth, athletic thighs, and she knew that Lynn’s eyes followed her with an undisguised longing. Let the dyke watch, she thought bitterly. She was used to people taking advantage of her.

Outside, the other girls were working the fields and talking. They seemed happy, but it only reminded her of her own suffering. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

Lynn sighed and sat at the foot of the bed, crossing her long, slender legs. The sexy blonde moved with a grace that Isabel could not have matched, and her clear gray eyes seemed to see right through her. “We know that, Isabel. We just want to help.”

The door opened, and Isabel could see Olivia reflected in the glass. Her captor was a beautiful, middle-aged woman with luxurious brown hair. Lynn stood and smoothed her skirt before nodding dutifully at the older woman. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Olivia talked for some time, while Isabel continued to stare out the window. She told her that the other girls had been tortured souls like her, that she had helped each of them in her own unique way. She said that there was more to life than pain. Isabel regarded all of this with silence and scorn, biding her time until Olivia walked quietly out of the room. She refused to be the subject of some touchy-feely white woman’s radical therapy.

When she had finally grown strong enough to run away, though, Isabel found herself compelled to stay. Soon, she stopped resisting the influence that Olivia had over her, and she began thinking and feeling things she never had before. She loved and trusted Olivia. She was happy in her new home. Life was worth living. Sex was more than just a way of being used. As Isabel opened her heart and mind to her savior’s strange gift, she began a slow process of healing.

Years had passed. Now Olivia was only a memory, and her control over Isabel was fading away. Doubt had crept its way into her thoughts, showing her lover’s guidance for what it truly was. Once again, Isabel found herself alone and faced with an uncertain future.

The sky had grown lighter, and dawn would come soon. Isabel steeled her nerves, waiting for another break in the stream of cars below. She wanted to scream, to cry out against the quiet death of her emotions, but nothing would come. There was only one way to end it, to know that she would love Olivia with her dying breath.

“Olivia wouldn’t want this, you know.” Isabel spun to find Lynn cresting the slope, wearing a flattering green dress and high heels. Her hair was styled in a pageboy, and her eyes were sad.

Isabel glared at her, dark hair fluttering in the wind. “And I always have to do what she wants, right? It’s my life. She took it from me.”

Lynn sighed as she drew closer. “Is that what this is about? Punishing her?”

“How can I? She’s dead!” Her face crumpled. “You don’t understand. I loved her, and I never got to choose. Now I can. Now I can be hers forever.”

Lynn placed her hand on Isabel’s arm. “We all loved her, Isabel. But she didn’t just make us feel it. She taught us what it means to love. And not just her.” Smiling, she ran her fingers through Isabel’s hair. “I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment she brought you home, so fragile, so beautiful. I wanted to save you as much as she did.”

She looked away, turning her gaze on the traffic below. “I don’t feel anything. I’ve never loved anyone but her.”

“That’s because she never forced it on you. She wanted you to learn, to grow. But all you wanted to do was latch onto her. You depended on her so much that you never saw what you meant to all of us.” Lynn kissed her, pressing her body against Isabel’s. “And especially to me.”

Isabel pulled away, nearly tripping. She was on the verge of tears again. “Stop it. I can’t...I can’t live without her. How can I go back to the way things were?”

“You have to make a choice, Isabel. To try again, to try to find some good in all of the hardship. That’s what life is. That’s what she wanted you to learn.”

She gazed down upon a city that was just beginning to wake up. “Life is feeling lost and alone.”

Lynn shook her head, her eyes thoughtful. “No, Isabel. It’s both.”

Isabel pulled her panties down and climbed on top of an already naked Olivia. They kissed yet again, hands interlocking, and she could not believe that sex could feel this good. She had never enjoyed being with men, not because she was gay, but because she always felt lonely and afraid, even violated. This was different. Olivia was different.

They rolled over, and Olivia ran her mouth over Isabel’s breast, licking her nipple. Isabel moaned and lay back, letting the older woman show her what it meant to feel sexual pleasure. She started to finger herself, but then Olivia moved her hand aside and did it for her. She found that it felt even better that way.

Then Olivia slipped down Isabel’s body, her face descending between her legs, and Isabel jerked away in terror. Strange new emotions had left her vulnerable, and now she sensed that she would be hurt more than ever before. “Stop. Stop it.” She curled up at the edge of the bed, crying.

Isabel hugged herself, wanting nothing more than to be left alone. Her lover kissed her on the shoulder, though, and her fear dissolved like a bad dream. Olivia would never hurt her. Olivia was her friend.

She rolled over and allowed Olivia to wrap her arms around her. Sheltered in her lover’s caring embrace, Isabel wondered how she could have ever been afraid of her sweet Olivia. She wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry. I ruined it. I wanted to be sexy for you, and I ruined it.”

Olivia beamed at her, caressing her hair. “Isabel, if you could see what I see...”

She stared into her eyes. “Why? What do you see?”

“That you’re beautiful. You’re a flower that just needed some sunlight to grow.” Olivia kissed the younger woman. “I’m so proud of you. Whatever choices you make, I’ll always be proud of you.”

Isabel smiled. “If it’s okay, I’d like to try again.” Olivia grinned and climbed on top of her.

The sun had pierced the eastern horizon, bathing the city in a gentle glow. Isabel bowed her head. “I loved Olivia. She saved me, and she believed in me. I’ll always love her for that.”

Lynn smiled and nodded. “I know.”

After a moment, Isabel took hold of her hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

To someone not studied in art, the paintings on the gallery wall might have seemed unoriginal, repetitive. Each was of a different beautiful woman, but they all represented the same woman, a fictional temptress born from Dennis Grant’s mind. Molly had loved Dianna at first sight, so much so that every real woman seemed to pale in comparison.

Dianna wore a lacy black teddy, low-cut and transparent, decorated with intricate, flowery designs. Beautiful tattoos adorned her legs and arms, gold and black against her radiant white skin. They were strange, mysterious symbols that always seemed just shy of recognizable. Her hair was always red and flowing, her eyes always a brilliant shade of purple. She posed with grace and sensuality, every aspect of her a beacon which cried out to Molly.

Yet every painting showed a different pose, a different masterful use of shadow and light. Every painting brought out a new emotion in Dianna’s haunting eyes. Molly always seemed to feel whatever Dianna felt, whether it was love, lust, or even fear. Dennis Grant truly was a great artist. He was also, as Molly had come to realize only minutes earlier, completely insane.

“You know, Molly...” Grant muttered absently as he recalibrated his machine. What appeared to be some sort of electronic cannon was aimed directly at her forehead, its dull, glassy eye flickering with light. “There are a lot of people who will tell you that cloning is playing God. But a scientist who clones is merely copying what’s already there.

“An artist, though...an artist creates what is not there. That’s real power, Molly. That’s what it means to be God. And you see it when you study my paintings, don’t you?”

Molly struggled helplessly with her bonds. She was tied to a chair, dressed in a revealing teddy that matched Dianna’s. Familiar symbols were neatly painted on her arms and legs, and Grant had dyed her hair red. Her new look was turning her on, in spite of the circumstances. “I love your work, Mr. Grant. You know I’m your biggest fan. And I’d be honored to be one of your models. Just please let me go.”

Grant followed her eyes to the painting entitled “Fear”, which expressed her sentiments exactly. His eyes were blank, his mouth twisting into a smile. “Art is a transformative experience, Molly. It changes the canvas. It changes the audience. This is why I became an artist, why I revealed Dianna to the world. I saw her in my mind, and I wanted her, and she did not exist. Yet.”

He smiled and stroked her cheek. “Don’t be afraid, Molly. This is what you want. Why do you come here every day, losing yourself in my work, if not to escape your true self? You only feel complete when you are connected to Dianna, just like me. In your heart, you volunteered yourself to me. And when I saw you for the first time, I knew that you would be the one.” His finger caressed her breast. “My lovely Dianna. Perfect in every way.”

“No, I...” Staring into his vacant eyes, words seemed to fail her.

“You want to be her. I want to create her. Soon, Dianna will be a reality.” Grant leaned forward and kissed her. “Now pay attention, Molly, because I’ll have questions to ask. In a way, I suppose I’m also a scientist. I want to know what it’s like to have everything you know, everything you are, painted over in one tiny little...”