The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After another marathon session of love making with my Dawn I climbed from the bed quite satisfied with myself. Time had no real meaning in the Room since it was just one day after the next shown out the windows from various times and places, so it was all completely subjective. Time, as Dawn would have measured it, would have seemed as though over ten years had passed in glorious sexual release. My Pet had proven to be just as insatiable as I had made her and even more enjoyable to be around, the sheer devotion she showed, the absolute adoration was something I had not thought I could come to enjoy. But over the years, I had definitely come to enjoy it, even to a small extent revel in it.

But I had made the decision that it was time for more, Dawn was exciting, exotic, and devoted. But I wanted more, I wanted something different, it was time for another flavor to be added. “My Dawn, I am going out.” Her look went instantly from post-coital bliss to devastation, as if I had informed her that we would never make love again, it tugged a little bit at my heart... a very little bit. “I have decided to bring another to us but I must find a suitable candidate. I will be back before the sun rises once more.”

Without waiting to hear her response I took a step forward and stepped into time and the world. What I experienced would have driven Dawn completely mad; thousands, millions, billions, then trillions of human lives all experienced in their totality from birth to death in the span of seconds for me. But with my powers, and the experience to use them, I was more than capable of processing what I it was that I was watching.

I whistled softly and tunelessly to myself as I watched lives speed past me until... there … I found one that I wanted and slipped into the time stream seamlessly, and invisibly. I didn’t particularly like this particular period in history, and preferred to avoid contact with it when possible, but the life I detected was standing in front of me, frozen in the moment.

Like most women of the period she was dressed ultra-conservatively and in purest white, only the skin of her face bare—and even that was out of necessity than desire. A long white dress went to her ankles and dainty little shoes covered her feet. The neck of her dress went all the way up to the bottom of her chin, and her hair was pulled up and wrapped in a severe knot to protect as much of her modesty as possible. On top of that she wore a broad rimmed white hat to keep the sun’s rays off her and most on-lookers from actually looking at her.

Underneath all of her clothing, petticoats, dresses, and other extraneous clothing there was the scrawny body of a woman underfed and over clothed. It was almost pathetic; if she had more to her she could have been a reasonably attractive woman... instead she was merely plain. Not for long.

I walked over to her and scooped her up in my arms and disappeared with her, reappearing in the same studio that I sculpted my Dawn in. The overly dressed woman appeared on the same raised pedestal that Dawn had occupied but I left her fully dressed. I had plans for this one and the clothing would only add to it.

Before I let her go, I froze her muscles in place and modified her speech patterns. I didn’t want her moving around anymore than I had wanted my Dawn moving, and I hated listening to the flowery speech of the time; it just grated on my nerves.

Letting her go I looked her over even as she started to register things in sequence, first that her surroundings had changed dramatically, then that she couldn’t move, then that I was there. She didn’t say anything, she was just still with a look of terror in her eyes that I approved of, one that would change before I was done with her. Her lips began moving subtly in silent prayer to a god that wasn’t listening.

“You are scared.” It wasn’t a question. She looked terrified and I couldn’t help but feed on that, I loved that look. It was so different from Dawn that it was beautiful in it’s own right.

She closed her eyes tightly and continued to whisper her prayers. “Answer me.” I demanded of her.

Sweat began to bead across her brow, even as she continued to whisper her prayers she nodded vehemently to me, her head lashing forward and backward.

“Good. You should be. First off, those prayers you whisper are falling on deaf ears. They will not be answered, you are with me now, and any prayers you say should be directed to me because before long, I will become your new God.”

Her eyes widened further and she shook her head violently back and forth. “No!” She whispered out in horror, “I would never worship you, Lucifer!”

I burst into laughter at that last, “Is that where you think you are? Hell? Oh no, you are in my studio... let’s get started though. This white has got to go, it just won’t suit if you are to be mine...”

My eyes roamed up and down her body and the white disappeared piece by piece and was replaced by clothing of the same type but in the deepest of blacks, she looked more like she was headed to a funeral now rather than out for a stroll through the country side...

I split the world as I perceived it and watched as her past shifted and rearranged to accommodate my changes;

She had been born into a small village, of probably no more than fifty families. They remained secluded deep in the forests, their homes had been made of cut timbers that surrounded them and their lively-hood depended on what they could scrounge from the earth. Their life was a strongly religious existence that held the belief that life itself was a test, and that it should never be enjoyed, nothing about life should be enjoyable. Food was supposed to be bland and tasteless, clothing was to be black and uniform, sexuality was unheard of and sex itself simply a means to reproduce. Play was not allowed. Any time not spent helping with chores was supposed to be spent reading the bible and praying to God for forgiveness for being alive and not in heaven with him.

Even while helping around the house she was constantly being bombarded by her mother’s hate of all things fun or lighthearted.

“Why must life be like it is, mother?” The young girl asked innocently as she sewed another stitch into her black dress. She was growing too large for her old one and it was threatening to expose skin.

“Because life is pain and toil. The more we work during life, the more God will reward us when we meet him.”

The words were more rote than anything and the young girl just nodded as she went back to her sewing, being careful not to prick her finger too many times...

I grinned to myself, she was working out quite well. I was allowing the past to reform itself with much less guidance than I did with Dawn. It was turning out interestingly...

She closed her eyes tightly again and continued to pray more fervently, believing that this was once more a test of life. That everything was going to be alright, she knew it, it had to be true. She was raised from childhood to believe that God would rescue her at her darkest times, even from the arms of the devil himself, and surely this... creature must be Lucifer himself.

“What is your name, little one?” I asked her, walking around inspecting my work. The black was most flattering, I liked how it looked. Much better than the white.

She continued to pray. “Answer me, or I will get angry.” I leaned in close to her face, my voice deadly soft. “And I am not very nice when I get angry.”

“Elizabeth Valentino!” She blurted out, a stunned look on her face. She obviously had no intention of saying anything. She became more vocal with her prayers, desperate for an angel to come swooping down to come help her, for God to intervene... he must, mustn’t he?

“No longer... I think you would do much better as a Jezebel.”

“No! I’ll never be named after that harlot...!” She started to protest... they always did, but she was quickly silenced as her past altered itself to allow for my changes.

She was a pariah amongst the community. She never understood why her mother had named her Jezebel, what was she thinking? It was horrible, she couldn’t go anywhere without whispers following her. The story of Jezebel was spoken of constantly during the bible studies, and she was sure it was just to mock her.

She knew that life was painful, but did it truly have to be so very cruel? Was that what her mother was trying to do? By giving her such an unfortunate name she was guaranteed to suffer for her entire life. She wasn’t even sure she would ever find a husband, just because of her name. Everyone spoke of her in hushed tones and if she walked near groups, then people would cut off their conversations immediately on her sight. She hated it, she hated her name and even though it was wrong she sometimes hated her mother for forcing this name on her.

She had even made special efforts to be as unlike the original Jezebel as possible, dressing even more constrictive than others, praying harder, studying the word of God more... she was going to prove that despite her name, she would never follow in that harlot’s footsteps...

“With God by my side Satan I deny you! I deny your power and your hold, release me and the angels sent to rescue me will be merciful upon you...” She threatened. She was no longer as terrified, she was still scared I could tell, but she was not petrified, but mostly this was bluster.

“I would be more concerned my little Jezebel, if it weren’t for the fact that God abandoned you long ago... just as you abandoned him in search of something more.” The grin that crossed my lips was pure malevolence, the fun part was just about to begin now.

She gave me a shocked and horrified look at my words, her face was frozen like that until her new history was re-written...

Jezebel was probably about fourteen, or fifteen. Almost old enough to marry, at sixteen a woman in her small community was supposed to have found a husband and start the process of bringing out the next generation, but she had not even been looking. She had never said anything out loud to that point, but she was beginning to think outside of what her mother had told her was truth. Was there really a god? Was this the only way it had to be? Could life be less about pain, and toil and more about living life itself? She wanted to eat food with flavor, to smell a flower just to enjoy it’s scent, she wanted the touch of a man just because she wanted to feel him, not because they were man and wife.

Darker thoughts had even crossed her mind more than once, the thought of touching another woman, a scandalous thought indeed that left her intrigued but also slightly terrified for her soul... how could she think such things? Weren’t they dangerous? She didn’t have anyone else she could go to for advice, if she even so much as mentioned her thoughts she would have been banned from the community, she was already looked down upon just for her name and if she admitted to anyone that she had started to think outside of what they were taught... she would be accused of consorting with demons.

She couldn’t help herself, she just stopped praying one day. She went through all the motions but instead of actually praying her mind wandered, wondering what else there might be. If there was a god, was he like they said, was he even a he? Her mind just keep wandering, and she just kept expanding her thoughts going so much farther beyond her little community...

She went from defiant to weeping, breaking down a little as she was crushed by the new memory. She no longer had the strength of blind devotion to hold her up and in her current situation she was much less able to cope without the strength of someone, or something else to help her.

“But you found something else didn’t you? Or did something find you? After you began to flower into a woman...” I knew my voice was penetrating into her mind now, throbbing deeply into her brain as I modified more of her history, and now her body...

Her hair, once mouse brown, darkened to a midnight black with tiny streaks of pure white shooting through at random intervals, giving her hair the truest appearance of a night’s sky. The white shined amongst the black, like stars against the canvas of night. Her skin paled many shades until it was a luminescent white and perfectly flawless. Not a mark, scar or freckle to be found. Her lips brightened to a rich blood filled red that strongly resembled my Dawn’s... why bother mess with a good thing when the template was perfect? The pale skin and the bright red lips was an awe inspiring off set especially when I combined that with a pair of ice blue eyes it made for an impressive display.

Wandering around her I modified her more; she grew an inch or two... not much. She was only about 5′5″; I didn’t want her taller than my Dawn, as she would not be superior in any way to my First. Her waist seemed to suck in, but this was only an illusion because her hips were growing wider, not nearly as dramatic as Dawn, but nothing would be again. Her breasts ballooned outward inside of her confining dress, the clothing frantically working to try and maintain the original modesty it was designed for. I didn’t want to change what she was wearing until later, that would be the climax of my design for my Jezebel. Her tits—and they could truly be called tits now—had to be near the DD to E cup range, and gravity was taking it’s toll until I gave her the same overachieving back and pectoral muscles that Dawn sported, which caused her breasts to perk right up.

I wired her pleasure centers similarly to how I rewired Dawn but gave her a bit more around the mouth. She would receive even more pleasure from oral stimulus, giving and receiving.

I watched her new past unfolded...

It started off slowly. Somewhere between her fifteenth and sixteenth birthday she began to truly become a woman. It wasn’t like some of the other girls where it was only in some places that it was happening, their breasts would develop or their hips would widen a little, or they would become a little less gangly.

Not so for Jezebel, and despite the fact that it felt fantastic she was once more a pariah, she tried to hide the changes but there were some things that just couldn’t be hidden. Her eyes had always been an arresting feature that made many uncomfortable -and for many reasons-in the tightly structured society of the small village, but they only seemed to get worse as she developed thick, smoky colored eye lashes that seemed to tempt all who looked into them.

Her hair, which she had always kept very long was growing at an alarming rate and even when she cut it, it would always grow back within a tenday to the middle of her thighs. Then the white strands started to appear and even when she had it bound properly it always looked like a cloudless night sky with the streaks of shooting stars, or the glimmer of stars. People were whispering again and she grew more and more uncomfortable about the changes. She wanted them to stop, she wanted to be normal, but the change to womanhood was inexorable.

Her hips widened dramatically even as her own breasts swelled to many times larger than even the most fertile of mothers in the village. What made it worse was that they were not only very large, they were very sensitive and very hard to conceal because of some mad twist of fate they pressed straight ahead, instead of giving into the pull of the ground like all of the other girl’s assets.

Her skin grew pale as the moon but luminescent and healthy looking, without a single mark on it to mar her beauty. Her lips became crimson red, a deeper, more luscious shade than even the most vivid of roses that grew around the religious community.

She was starting to feel more and more like her name’s sake every day and it began to feel like a mixed blessing. Despite the whispering, despite the obvious glares of resentment of those around her she could feel their looks, and knew that they were becoming more and more lustful every day. The men of her village -and an increasing number of the women- were starting to stare, but the stares weren’t followed by untrusting whispering but silent wanting. It felt good to be watched like that, she did not know a word for it, but she felt her body coming alive. Her female parts would tingle under their scrutiny and she would grow wet... down there... as they stared in a longing they wouldn’t admit even to themselves.

During the night though she was starting to have dreams, strange dreams of a nature she couldn’t understand. It was like what little she had been told about sex, but with much, much more. She couldn’t make out who it was, but she thought it might be her and someone else, sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, but it always seemed to have so much life, like it was really happening, and she would sometimes wake up in the mornings screaming, but not in pain, and she would be completely soaked... down there...

I had a flash of genius and laughed to myself, I couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a mad scientist but I looked into her body and fiddled around a little bit more, it was a small change but it would have an enormous impact eventually, I was very aroused myself, just thinking of what this change could mean, I slipped back to watch the alteration take hold.

She felt she was nearly finished developing into a woman, but she had been unmarried now. Her father and mother had demanded she leave their home as they could no longer bear to be around their own daughter. She knew why, even if they didn’t. It was unholy, and repulsive but she had started to draw those same looks from her brothers and sisters, and even her own father at times because of her demon gifted body. She had to do all the work herself, and it was terribly unseemly to do so but she built her own little home on the very outskirts of the town in an effort to further separate herself from their glances and their ridicule.

She was no longer an anomaly but rather was now something that was feared. The villagers couldn’t understand why they felt so funny when they were near the undeniably beautiful Jezebel, and so started to whisper that she was a possessed girl, a demon or a succubus of some sort, possibly even a witch. She was worried what would happen to her if the town elders eventually did decide that she was a witch, she knew the practice would be to be burnt at the stake, but... she wasn’t a witch. She was just herself and had been born this way, she didn’t want it, but what was she to do? How could she convince the others of that?

She shook her head and went back to tending her garden, she raised many of the finest vegetables and fruits in the village, which was one of the few reasons anyone allowed her to stay nearby at all. Her first year’s yield was almost three times greater than anyone else and she couldn’t understand why, she thought it might be the soil, or it could be that she truly loved her plants, they were something that gave her strength and she thought them beautiful. She had stopped trying to pretend to herself that she believed the same things as everyone else, she loved life, loved the smells of baking bread, or the taste of food, and the sight of the wildflowers around her home.

She had even began to experiment with cooking, she enjoyed it! She actually enjoyed to cook and some of the different flavors she could coax from the food was just heavenly; she had never knew that food could be more than bland. She had grown up on a diet of mostly meat and potatoes. But near her home wild berries of all kinds grew; strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, fruit trees of all kinds. It was like the plants gravitated to her presence.

She began to sing to herself as she tended to one of her strawberry plants, they weren’t quite ready to grow but the flowers were large and vibrant, promising another harvest of succulent fruits. It was a wordless song, just her voice modulating to the world around her, sometimes moving up and down the arpeggio, sometimes responding to the cries of the birds that lived in the forest outside. But it felt good to sing, to feel the wind leaving her body and she always felt incredibly alive whenever she sang, and it always felt as if the world around her enjoyed her song almost as much as she did. Like the sun would get brighter, and the shadows would retreat, and the plants would look to her happily.

She walked up and down her rows of plants, her voice soaring glorious release just make the sound. She was happy like this, she enjoyed it, it was nice. From the corner of her eye she caught motion, she straightened up and looked over. Standing there looking embarrassed and confused with himself was a boy, younger than Jezebel, but he should have been trying to find a wife soon. He was starting to sprout the random tufts of fuzz along his cheeks and chin that marked his entrance to manhood. Jezebel smiled to him, her bright red lips lifting up in a greeting that was uncommon in the community. Nobody ever smiled, they were always too busy being miserable.

He just stood there, looking side to side nervously trying to avoid looking right at her. She smiled wider at his discomfort. “Good afternoon! Might I help you with something?” She strolled carefully between her plants, her hands clasped demurely in front of her. It was a pointless gesture as her breasts were so enormous now that the simple effort of trying to look innocent was lost behind the fact that they were pressed together and out even further.

“I... I... I... I... I... don’t... don... don’t... really know why I’m here...” The young boy was funny in a nervous kind of way. “I heard a strange noise from over here and wondered what it was. I was cutting wood over there...” He pointed vaguely to a house much nearer the center of the town, “And I think I heard... singing, but it wasn’t like anything I have heard before.”

“Oh! You liked my song then?” Jezebel smiled even wider, it was nice to hear that someone enjoyed something that came from her.

“I... I... I guess. Mother and Father say I should not come near you... they say you are a demoness. Or a witch... or both...” The boy rubbed his forearms nervously, looking to the sides. It was like he wanted to run away like a terrified rabbit but something held him in place.

“Well...” She paused, she didn’t even know the boy’s name, “What is your name?”

“Ga...ga...Gabriel. My parents thought it would be a good name for me... ma’am.” He nearly choked trying to say the words.

“Well, Gabriel, it is important to listen to one’s parents. But I can see the first marks of manhood upon you.” She drifted closer to the young man.”Shouldn’t you take it upon yourself to decide whether or not I am a demoness? Or a Witch?” She was only an inch or two shorter than he, but he had the look about him of a man that was going to be much taller.

“I... I... I guess.” He was totally unsure, he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to talk to her, for some reason she stirred him in ways that he was completely unused to, but he also was raised from youth to not trust the girl named Jezebel, she was a bad seed, everyone knew it.

“Here now, how about we go inside and we can think of a way to test whether or not I am a demoness, or a witch over a cup of tea and some blueberries.” She turned away with a twirl of her dress and her hair came alive a bit, she wore it unbound now. Ever since she was ousted by her parents she wore it unbound and it was so very long now, past her rear and near the middle of her thigh. It felt so good having it free too.

The boy blinked and put one foot forward, hesitated and then followed the dark tressed woman into her small one room home.

“You did this all by yourself?” The young man asked, stunned. The inside was alive, a riot of colors and decoration, large open windows decorated all four walls; two per wall. Flowers were in small clay pots at each of the windows. A nicely constructed table was beneath one of the windows with a small three armed candle in the middle. There were two chairs at the table, Jezebel had prepared for company even if she figured none would ever come. The bed was covered in a large quilt, dyed reds and blues, the boy did not even know where she found those colors for the dye.

The fireplace was large and seemed well made, a small pot hanging on a rack right outside of the direct flames. Jezebel went to the table to took both of the cups from it and went to the pot and with a leather mitt carefully poured out serving of tea for both of them. Then she went to a small, solidly constructed cupboard and pulled out a bowl filled to the brim with fat juicy blueberries. She set both the cups and the berries onto the table. Singing softly to herself the whole time.

“What? Oh... yes. I had to, I am sure you understand that nobody in town would help me.” She bustled around once more going into the cupboard singing once again, no song, just the sound of life. She pulled out a fresh loaf of bread and a small thing of fresh churned butter that she had traded for in the village.

The boy was growing distracted by something. His senses were swimming, all he could hear was her song. He started to smell the bread and wandered over to the table and sat down carefully, unsure of himself.

“Please, Gabriel. Enjoy. I am no witch, merely a good hostess. I hope everything is good, the blueberries are fresh picked today.” Despite the fact that she still wore the proper attire for someone in her community -the ultra-conservative dress that tried to hide everything even remotely female- her very female body laughed in the face of the restrictions and when she sat down, her breasts bounced a slight bit inside the black binding.

She reached out and took a blueberry and popped it into her mouth, “Mmmm, fantastic!” She moaned at the taste, they were even better than last years!

The boy stirred in his seat, growing agitated and growing... elsewhere. He was confused by this woman, she wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone said she was, what was the problem with her that had everyone so scared? He reached out and took a blueberry of his own, popped it into his mouth and it was like his mouth exploded. He had never had anything like this!

His eyes went wide and he thrust his seat back from the table! She must have enchanted the food, nothing could be like this and be normal! It was devil’s food! He started to run for the door, but she had screamed a bit in surprise and he found his legs slowing, it was only a step or two but he couldn’t make that last move to the door.

She came up to him, her face in his, her amazing blue eyes staring into his own brown and he felt strange. A stirring deep inside him. “What happened? Did the berry have something in it? If it did I’m so sorry! Please, have another, I’m sure it will be better!” She reached up to his mouth and popped another berry inside and despite his greatest desires not to, he ate it. Once more that explosion of taste as the juice coated his mouth... it was good! So very good!

“What did you do to this food, demon?!” The young man demanded, he wanted more of the fruit, but he was scared at the same time.

“Do? I’ve done nothing! This is how food should taste, not be that bland mud they make you eat. Food should have flavor, it should be a delight to the tongue, it should smell delicious, it should look succulent. Food should be alive and vibrant... not dark and pitiful. Life is not pain and toil, life is beauty and...” Jezebel had the sudden urge to kiss the boy... so she did. Her crimson lips connecting with his own surprised lips, he wanted to protest but was completely lost as the woman began to moan into him, it felt... god, it felt good! In fact it felt amazing! She pulled back from the kiss and looked deep into his eyes, locking gazes with him, “Life should be about beauty and pleasure, not pain and toil...”

He reached out to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, his original intention was throw her to the side, out of his way but he couldn’t do it. Instead he pulled her in for another kiss, it felt even more amazing the second time, driven by something neither knew about before their tongues slid into the other’s mouth, and a fire seemed to light in the ice blue eyes of Jezebel.

She pulled poor Gabriel over to the bed and began to work frantically at the lacing of her dress, there was lots of knots and cords, buckles, and laces to work on. Gabriel couldn’t wait, he didn’t know what had come over him but he was not in control of himself anymore, he pulled out the knife all of the men of the village carried out of habit and simply cut at the dress slicing the lacing straps completely off. Jezebel sang out her delight at this forceful action, it was little more than a sigh but the effect was powerful on Gabriel. He pulled at his boots and tore at his shirts desperately trying to remove the layers of clothing he was being trapped under.

Jezebel simply tore her own dress off, grabbing it at the neck and yanking it down, tearing it in half. Her breasts bounced free, her nipples crinkling in the sudden exposure to the world. Her body covered in a mild sheen of sweat from her activities in the garden. She felt song come to her throat and she couldn’t help it, even as she rubbed her body all over, free and released in all its glory she sang out a wordless hymn of lust.

Gabriel was finally free of his own clothing and unceremoniously threw the glorious looking woman to the bed. He was surprised to find that the bed was stuffed with goose down and that it was amazingly soft, but his attention was quickly regained as Jezebel once again reached a high note while she was stroking her breasts, her hands moving in ways she never knew they could. Her body knew though, and it was showing her now. Showing her what it was like to be a true woman. She slid one hand down to her womanhood and thrust a finger deep inside and she shrieked out an ascending note of purest desire.

Gabriel lost himself immediately to the vision before him, his manhood hard enough to cut down trees, and he roughly pushed Jezebel’s hand out of the way and thrust himself deep inside. Jezebel could no longer keep a logical song, she was reduced to howls of delight and yelps of animalistic pleasure now. Then she felt something building in her, something from deep in her core, and she had her first conscious orgasm and a new song was pulled from her lips.

A song of life, of lust, of sensuality, of a rebirth. She arched her back and Sang, a siren’s call of pleasure that caused Gabriel to join her in orgasm, he spilled his seed deep inside her, his eyes glazing as his body convulsed in ecstasy. Jezebel’s song drove him on, and long after he was spent they stayed wrapped in that embrace of lust. They kept going, Jezebel’s song continuing for many hours, but eventually they were forced to stop because Gabriel could no longer stay awake—too tired, his body given up. He had been overwhelmed.

Extricating herself from the tangle of limbs that was once Gabriel she felt more alive than ever. She senses sang with her, and she felt so alive, so glorious, so... female. She couldn’t describe it with the meager words that the village taught her, but she felt whispers in her mind, telling her the right words. She felt like a goddess, powerful... reborn...

I was very aroused now, the re-write of history was much more detailed than I had anticipated. It was... glorious. She would be a welcome addition to our family.

The woman before me looked much more confident now, confident in herself with a sparkle in her eyes she didn’t have before. But she was still recovering from her brush with the past and I was getting slightly impatient to have her for myself so I made the final changes without waiting for anything, I knew it was impatient but she was turning out so well...

She had quickly learned that it was something about her song. Whenever she sang she could spark that same feeling of powerful lust that had thrummed through, poor unsuspecting Gabriel. She used her new found abilities to great effect, she had stopped caring at all about what they thought of her, she would go stand at the edge of the village and wait until she saw someone—male or female—that sparked her interest and she would start singing. That siren’s call came to be both dreaded and hoped for by everyone in the community.

Nobody that was touched by her song was ever the same. The community was changing and changing quickly. Life was coming to it, blooming up like a garden of humanity, people would leave her bed with seeds, both literal and figurative. They would leave with seeds of some of the fruits and vegetables that Jezebel grew in her garden, and they were never again the dour, toil and pain-filled husks that they had been before she got a hold of them.

She spent much of her time at her home, most of that in the goose down bed with someone from the village. It was sensuality gone wild and she reveled in it, she was being looked at more and more with respect and longing, rather than loathing. The people almost worshiped her and she couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling. Having been hated for so long, having been an outcast and misunderstood to finally have the upper leg was a wonderful change of events.

Jezebel had long been working on a new, suitable form of clothing for what she had become. She had decided that the black suited her, but never again would it be the strict, rigid conservative dress that she had worn for so many years. No, she would be beauty and life cloaked in the darkness of the wild night she so resembled.

She stitched it together herself and was most pleased with the results, a black skirt that was so short it could barely be considered such; it was almost three full inches above her knees! It was made of black cloth with a tiered series of three lace ruffles around it, alternating between a deep, rich purple to black, to the purple. She thought it was positively devilish... which caused her to giggle at the thought of being devilish when she was called a demoness for so long.

For a top she fashioned together a corset of rich black, laced up with purple silk and trimmed along the bottom in a deep, dark ox-blood red band of silk topped by black lace. The combined effect drew the viewer’s eyes inexorably upwards to the non-existent neckline. Her breasts needed no help staying upright, so the cups she built in merely masked her nipples from view while providing a fantastic view of her chasm of cleavage and mountainous expanse of flesh. With her very pale skin the effect was quite impressive and was bound to capture the attention.

She had to invent a new kind of shoe for what she wanted. She had already brought over the local leather worker and the shoe cobbler to her little religion and she contacted them both, giving them a very specific design she wanted, and allowed them to very intimately explore her legs and feet so that the shoes would fit perfectly.

It was a strange design, but when it came to her, she shivered in delight at the idea of it. She had already slithered into her new corset and the skirt. She was putting on her shoes... boots really. They were of a design that had confounded the cobbler repeatedly before the darling old man managed to get them just right. They were made out of ink black leather that reached all the way up her leg and calf to stop just below her knee. They were laced up on the inside of the shoe with purple silk and held firmly in place on the outside by a series of twelve small buckles that the blacksmith lovingly crafted just for Jezebel.

The part that had made it so strange for the cobbler was the heels, they were at least five inches high and he had never made heels before. Before all the community had worn was flat, uncomfortable things that were made for utility rather than appearance. When she was finished lacing up the inside of the shoes she buckled them into place and stood up slowly and precariously. She had never walked in a shoe like this and was unsure how her body would react, and when she took a step forward, it was like she had been born to them, her hips sashaying to one side then the other in a sensual display. She felt delightful, it was positively wonderful this feeling of being in these strange shoes!

She had been wondering where all the silk had come from, as it came from the far east and the tiny village never had a trade caravan come through but that didn’t matter anymore. As she strode from her small house, the world seemed to stop as it took in the look of the new Jezebel.

Men and women fell over themselves to get closer. They couldn’t stop, they were entranced by this display. It was something they had never seen, so much flesh! Such beauty! The men were drooling and the women were moaning and touching themselves as they had never done before. Even those that had not been personally touched by Jezebel felt the powerful pull from her.

Jezebel looked out over the crowd and began to sing, once more that Siren’s call but her voice seemed to carry better and it felt more natural than it ever had it actually felt like she was singing about something, or someone, but she couldn’t figure out the words. So, even though her voice was still powerful and strong, it felt like she were just humming to a tune she had forgotten.

Everyone in her village was drawn in, they stared at her eyes, then her mouth, then her throat, then her breasts, following her body down to the thin waist and the wide, glorious hips, to those firm, pale, wonderful legs to those strange shoes.

Many in the crowd were reduced to quivering heaps of humanity within seconds, while those that managed to maintain a semblance of their mind took up a spontaneous song, praising Jezebel as a goddess on earth, asking her to bless them with her touch, her smell, her taste, her presence, to simply be nearby. To bring life and beauty to their dead lives.

Jezebel’s own song reached a crescendo and the crowd stilled entirely for a brief moment before abruptly exploding. Men and women were overcome with lust and pleasure, every nerve in their body going into over drive. Taste, smell, touch, hearing, everything was thrown into an activity nobody had known existed, they reached out to Jezebel pleading with her to bless them by allowing them to lay with her this night and she smiled to them all.

“Let us celebrate life!” She declared and in a smooth motion that was designed into her corset removed it and tossed it carelessly into her home. She turned and moved into her small abode and left the door open, allowing all that wanted to, access inside.

The song of life was loud enough to be heard miles around...

I shivered in delight, oh this was going even better than I had ever imagined... it was time to introduce myself and bring her into the fold.

It had truly been a marathon, a celebration of everything that sensuality could offer. It was almost a week and the only one capable of moving was Jezebel, every single other member of the village was completely exhausted. Their minds were overwhelmed by the sheer volume pleasure they had experienced, and the marathon of love making took its toll physically as well. They just couldn’t move anymore, they were too tired.

Jezebel pushed the bodies off of her and slipped outside of her home and stepped outside into the light of the full moon. She looked up to the bright disc in the sky and smiled to herself, feeling... right for the first time in her life. She didn’t even feel the need to sing, she just wanted to enjoy everything for herself this time, she bathed, completely nude in the soft white glow of the moon. A soft breeze kicked up and her nipples crinkled in response to nature’s gentle caress, she moaned softly to herself and smiled widely, reaching up and cupping her glorious breasts pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger, loving the feeling even after a week-long session of lust.

“She looks even better in person than she does in her dreams, doesn’t she my Dawn?” A voice from behind and to her right asked. She spun around to face the speaker and took a step back with a start.

The man was nothing amazing looking; average height, average brown hair, average eyes, maybe a bit more definition muscularly but otherwise forgettable looking. The woman clinging to him to his right though was entirely different. Jezebel was beautiful but this... this was a Goddess! The man wore an odd assortment of clothing that Jezebel could not describe—simply put it was a suit—but the woman was in a flowing dress composed of reds, golds, and oranges. But nothing substantial; it was all gauzy and flimsy material, her luscious curves just barely hidden behind what could only laughably be called a dress. It had only a single strap across the shoulder that clipped in two places, one at the left shoulder and again at the opposite hip, both with a brooch made of the clearest amber. Her lush, tall, busty form was practically attached to the man, one thigh rubbing up and down his at all times. Her dark hair wrapped around him, as if it had a life of its own.

“Oh, yes, my lord, my love... I agree.” The goddess of feminine perfection whispered. Her voice was clear and golden, it was like the softest silk on Jezebel’s ears, just hearing her speak made her knees go weak.

“What... you? Huh? Dreams?” Jezebel was stunned into silence for a moment, staring at the woman. Then staring at the man next to her, something very powerful seemed to radiate off from this man. Strong enough that this goddess given form would attach herself to him like this!

“Yes, in your dreams young Jezebel. It was us you saw... you see... you are like us. You call to us whether you knew it or not, you saw us in your dreams enjoying each other, enjoying life! We saw you too, but we saw you at all times. Watched you grow... progress... we watched you.” The strange man said to her.

“We want your voice... we want to hear your song. We will help it reach the heavens itself, all you need to do is say ‘Yes’...”

“Please...” The goddess said as she slithered up to Jezebel, her movements a liquid grace. “...Please...?” There was more said in that one word, so much that was said but not said, promises, hopes, and dreams. “Please...” the goddess whispered as she locked gazes with Jezebel’s ice blue.

The woman... Dawn was it? Reached up and gently brushed Jezebel’s cheek with the tips of her fingers. Their breasts pressed softly against one another, both of their bodies responding to the other in a split second. “Please?” She just kept repeating that same word over and over again, the sound of her voice was thrumming in Jezebel’s ears, her looks set fire to her eyes, she smelled of a new morning and cinnamon. Dawn’s touch made Jezebel tingle all over and suddenly Dawn leaned forward and pressed a single, soft kiss on Jezebel’s lips and whispered, “Please?”

“Yes! Yes! A million times, yes!” Jezebel shouted and grabbed hold of Dawn’s shoulders and pulled her in, their breasts mashing together in a delicious display. They kissed powerfully, it was a demanding devoted lustful action, all passion an no thought. Jezebel didn’t want to think anymore she was losing herself in the smell, the feel, the taste of this glorious woman!

She felt like she was falling forever into that kiss, their tongues exploring each others mouths insistently until she had to pull back, she was running out of breath. The man stretched out a hand while the woman slipped back over to his side, encircling him and pressing her head to his shoulder.

“Will... will they remember me if I leave?” Jezebel looked back to the small home she had built, then in direction of the house she grew up in. She almost didn’t want to leave, even still... it had taken so long, so very long but she was now finally accepted! Her mother had been very encouraging the whole time she was... reintroducing... herself to the family. Her father had been such a darling man and had joined her in orgasm at least three times, and she even got to be the first for many of her brothers and sisters. She was proud of herself, and she thought that her parents had finally accepted her... she wanted that; acceptance.

“They may not remember everything... but you have left your mark, your imprint on their lives. You have brought love, lust, beauty, and most importantly... life to their existences. They will now seek it out wherever they can, they will all lead a more open, more sensual existence.” The man said, still holding his hand out patiently, “If you wish to be desired, to be part of something more. Come with us... come with us and sing your beautiful song and we will sing it together.”

Jezebel looked around one more time and took the man’s hand gently in hers. She began to sing, that wordless praise to life and as she touched the man she knew him. She understood who, and what he was and he took on a whole new appearance for her, and her song took on a whole new life. Instead of songs of life... she sung a wordless praise to her new lord, her new god. Dawn joined in the song, their voices creating a harmony of lust, of desire and passion that it caused flowers to spontaneously burst into bloom, even in the middle of the night, of the fruit plants around Jezebel’s garden to suddenly triple their yield and double in size, men grew rock hard in their sleep and women grew wet, then both sexes came, and kept cumming until with a simple effort Drass disappeared with his newest addition...

Back in my studio I released Jezebel quickly, and let her get her bearings. She was under a lot of strain from that last series of memories and I wanted her to react in her own way.

She looked around the studio, then looked at me in recognition then looked around searching for something. “Where... where is Mistress Dawn my lord?” She seemed genuinely concerned and that brought a grin to my lips.

“She is fine, I left her back in The Room. I just wanted to show you my artists studio... this is where I have crafted some of my finest works.” Jezebel looked relieved to hear that Dawn was alright and looked at me expectantly.

“I would like to sing for you, lord. But... I would like Mistress Dawn to join me...” She was now eager, she wanted to please me but I am sure that she just wanted to be near my Dawn, I couldn’t fault her of course.

“Of course my dearest Jezebel. Come with me to The Room, and our song will carry to corners of the universe itself.”

The room changed around us, from the Studio to The Room, Dawn was sitting on the bed, nude and hopeful that I would return shortly. Her memories were changed as well, she remembered both times. The moments before I went to collect Jezebel, and the time we went together to get her. But she was a resourceful little minx and knew exactly how to handle the situation and slipped into the role of knowing Jezebel perfectly.

“Jezebel! How was it? I told you that his studio was grand, didn’t I? Did he show you any of the things he has created before?” Dawn gushed as she hopped to her feet, her breasts dancing enticingly, “He made me this one animal, funniest little thing I’ve ever seen, and he created it... just for me! It was so kind of him.”

“No, Mistress Dawn... my lord did not. You see, when we got there I felt too lonely. I wanted to be back here with you and our Lord, I wanted to sing but I did not think that my voice alone would do him justice.” Jezebel’s eyes were fixed onto Dawn, I chuckled to myself. Dawn was still as magnetic as ever. “So... I asked him to bring me back that we both might sing our praise to him?” Jezebel asked hopefully, her eyes downcast but looking fleetingly up to Dawn then to me, then back to Dawn, then to the bed.

Dawn was already nude, and with a simple thought Jezebel and I were both completely unclothed. Moving over to the bed I lay out, my cock completely solid from the process of changing Jezebel I put my hands behind my head, fingers knit together and looked to Dawn, who looked back at me. “May we? Please?” Her look promised more than a song... and I would never deny the depths of that look.

“We will all sing... we will sing until our voices give out, then we will sing in our hearts, and then our souls will add a chorus.” I smiled to both Jezebel and Dawn as they began, that wordless song to me even as they descended upon my prone form like hungry wolves.

The look, the taste, the smell, the touch, and the sound. It was glorious... two women impossibly beautiful, and me in between, with them taking turns at me, then each other, then it just becoming a massive, sensuous tangle.

We sang. We sang for many nights, we sang until we were tired of singing, but even then we still explored each others bodies even while our souls rejoiced. It was what life should be indeed...