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Message-ID: <29968asstr$987919802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cats_sara@yahoo.com (Cat's sara)
Reply-To: cats_sara@yahoo.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 21 Apr 2001 20:51:26 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} Julia 02 - Deity Savant - FF, FD, MC
Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2001 02:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Author's Note: This is a continuation of the story begun in "A Small
Case of Overkill," although it's not necessary to read that story in
order to understand this one.  All characters are works of fiction,
completely made up, formed in imagination, in the hope that you may
find them interesting.

For those of you who are over the age of 18 and not offended by
graphic depictions of sex and the twists and turns of motivations,
feel free to wander onward.  The rest of you should please go find
something more suitable for your own tastes.

Please do not post this story elsewhere without permission.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

- Sara

----

Deity Savant

by Cat's sara

Categories: FF, FD, MC

----

The blonde sat in her office, listening to the President of the
highly homophobic Society of Moral Women rant on and on about the
sins of the modern world. It was ironic that she was so bored; she
had been a founding member just a few short years before. Now, she
could barely listen as the raving woman, a woman who had once been
one of her closest friends, carried on about the destruction of
society due to the attack on morality that had been sweeping the
country like a plague.

She nodded her head and smiled at all the right places, making sure
that her misguided guest felt placated. She felt her hair on her
shoulders, and wished that she didn't have to wear this ridiculous
wig, these ridiculously conservative clothes, or waste her time
patronizing women with foolish notions. Her hands fidgeted,
diplomatically out of sight, betraying her true restlessness as she
wished that this meeting was over.

As she fidgeted, the room became more and more distant, the useless
chatter seeming farther and farther away. Under her desk, her defiant
hands fidgeted and swirled in perpetual motion, her fingers circling
and circling, obscenely and ceaselessly circling, her hot, swollen,
screaming clit.

Finally, the rabid woman began to slow down her barrage, her
repugnant passel of sexual bigotry exhausted. "Lindsey - er...
Senator Thomas," she said, "I know it's the same old thing, and I
know you know all the issues involved, but it just seems to be
getting worse. It's as if there is something at work in the plethora
of accepting attitudes of all the media towards these abominable ways
of life. I don't like to sound so radical as to propose that there is
a conspiracy, but it certainly seems like more than coincidence."

Lindsey appeared distantly thoughtful and finally responded, "I know
how overwhelming it can be, Jesse. When Charles was alive, we talked
about the possibility that it *was* a conspiracy, one that was
reaching even into government, numbing good, wholesome people to
lewdness *(circle, circle)* and debauchery *(flick)* that would, at
first glance, appear to be spreading.  In the end though, our
conclusion, and *my* conclusion, is that it is mostly hype *(pinch)*.
It's a question of marketing. Otherwise, people like you, and me
*(slut...Goddess...obey...)*, who are decent and upstanding
*(slaves)* citizens, would not *(surrender)* survive.

"But I do have concerns as well.  Sex *(yes)* as a trivial tool of
advertising is nearly as *(divine)* bad. I suggest you contact your
Executive Board, and arrange a luncheon *(orgy)* so that we can
*(fuck for hours)* discuss possible strategies for *(seduction)*
dealing with this *(holy vision)* problem."

"That would be great, Lindsey!" bubbled Jesse.  "I'll have my
secretary call your office this afternoon to arrange it!"

Both women rose, and after a few last pleasantries, Jesse left the
office. Lindsey watched in lustful admiration as the younger woman
left the chamber.  *Beautiful face, beautiful tits, beautiful ass...
what a wonderful addition to the Goddess' temple she will be - not to
mention a real political coup,* thought Lindsey.

As the door closed, she reveled in completing her assigned task,
savoring the moment of pleasing her Goddess, Julia, and she suddenly,
violently came, grunting loudly and rhythmically as pleasure rampaged
through her and time stood still.

When she had nearly recovered, she keyed her intercom, and called, 
"Elizabeth, please come in for a moment."

The door opened, and her small, petite secretary entered, and walked
to Lindsey's desk, a quizzical look on her face.

"Elizabeth, Jesse Mattox will be calling you to arrange a luncheon.
Once she has done so, and the scheduling has been confirmed, please
call the Goddess and let her know that we have been successful in
bringing her the new candidate for consecration," panted Lindsey, in
between deep breaths.

Elizabeth made a small note on her steno pad and walked to the door,
but instead of passing through it into her small reception area, she
closed and locked it.  Smiling, she turned back around to her
employer, a coy, gentle smile playing across her voluptuous mouth.
Lindsey's eyes lit up in knowing anticipation as she slowly made her
way around her desk.

With incredibly disciplined formality that covered a lust betrayed
only by glistening, moistened lips and hungry eyes, the two women
reached up and pulled away their wigs, revealing the jelled, jet-
black hair that was slickly matted to their heads, as if painted on. 
Almost without thought, they approached each other, and with
reverence and affection, mussed each others' hair, playing and
delicately moving their fingers until each head was covered in
unruly, short, restlessly sexy spikes. They backed away from each
other, their eyes glowing with muted adoration, and removed their
clothes, as if in sacred ritual, folding and laying them carefully in
the bottom of an antique wardrobe that sat in the corner.

Their preparation finished and the successful completion of their
latest task within reach, they fell to each other, beginning an
afternoon of passion and lust so intertwined that anyone walking in
would not have been able to tell where one stopped and the other
began, their tongues finding lips that promised the heated nectar of
fruit no longer forbidden... 

----

The afternoon sun shining into the office fell across the gently
sleeping bodies of the two spent and satisfied women.  The one called
Elizabeth slowly roused into half-sleep on the way to consciousness. 
Naked and tangled, like a rendition of Eve, she knew no shame,
feeling only the euphoria of life in paradise, of walking in the path
of the Goddess.

Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings and, careful not to
disturb her sleeping lover, went to the telephone and dialed a
number. She sat, unaware of how long it was ringing, but only that
she waited for the distant phone to be answered. When she finally
heard the click of a handset being lifted, there was no voice of
greeting in her ear, nor did there need to be.

"Goddess," she whispered.

----

Julia Shelton sat in her private sanctuary, waiting for a promised
phone call, considering how things were going.  All in all, she was
very pleased. Her ambitions had changed since the beginning of her
latest string of acquisitions. By comparison, all the seductive games
of her youth had been drab and only partially satisfying; this time
it was very different.

The idea had come simply enough. There were so many oddball cults
taking in so many incredibly smart and otherwise sensible people and
giving them a fanatical devotion.  It was nearly impossible to crack,
even though no really powerful brainwashing techniques had been used.
It was so obvious, it should have occurred to her years before. She
smiled, reminding herself that now was good enough.

Julia had a gift. Some people would say she was psychic, but she
didn't think so, at least in the classic sense. Some would say she
was an amazing judge of character, but that wasn't it either. What
Julia had, in the simplest of terms, was the ability to quickly see
what made people tick. She could see their motivations; their fears,
their dreams, and most importantly, their obsessions.

And with that knowledge, she could shape them.

Within a few minutes of casual conversation, she knew whether they
would be best approached with logic, with drugs, with technology, or
even particular types of motion that grabbed their attention. The
list was apparently endless and she had even been surprised at a few
of the variations. It wasn't that she had absolutely mastered any
particular control techniques, although she was innately much more
than adequate at any of them. It was that she knew how they would
respond, and how to misdirect, which was more than they knew
themselves. Without them even knowing, she could move them into a
state of deep, mind-altering hallucination simply by letting their
minds' own reflexes close off avenues of escape.

Julia let her thoughts wander back in sweet remembrance.

She had started with women she knew.  Her hairdresser and her
attorney were her two first devotees.  The results were more
gratifying than she could ever have predicted. These women had gone
from being vaguely friendly people to worshippers who would do
anything, perform any deviant act, and even die for her if they
thought it was her desire. It gave her a sense of responsibility, but
even more, it made her thirsty for the excesses of her own bizarre
compulsions.

She spent months working with her new sluts - shaping them, changing
them, playing with their perceptions and desires. She was vaguely
aware that she was honing her craft - but she was much more
interested in the sinewy, hard-lined, ravenous sapphic sex that she
was able to achieve with her converts. She had no need of more, and
she didn't even think of adding to her adoring couplet until she
happened upon delicious little Elizabeth Parker.

She had met Elizabeth in the reception area of their mutual
attorney.  Short and incredibly elfin, perhaps five feet tall, with a
scarlet dyed pageboy haircut, pert breasts and just a touch of weight
around her hips, Julia immediately knew that this would be her next
devoted concubine. She engaged the shy but otherwise friendly girl in
light conversation, her eyes picking up every nuance of motion and
reaction.

Within ten minutes, she knew that the red-tinged brunette was
engaged, worked for Senator Charles Thomas, was completely
heterosexual, highly religious and, for the most part, sexually
inexperienced.

She also knew that little Lizzy was turned on by the smell of sweat.
Turned on like a furnace.

All Elizabeth knew was that this strange woman seemed friendly
enough, but looked like a complete whore.

*Time,* thought Julia, and she stood, removing her black leather
jacket, revealing the black latex sleeveless bodyshirt she was
wearing underneath. She walked across the room to hang it up and
tripped, her jacket flying into Elizabeth's lap. As she fell, she let
her armpit fall over Elizabeth's face, and she held it there,
feigning a handhold on the back of Elizabeth's chair. Grunting with
the pretended effort of bring herself to her feet, all she managed to
do was keep pressing her tangy, sweet scent into poor Elizabeth's
nose and face.

Elizabeth tried to help once the shock of the collision passed.  As
she attempted to help lift Julia to her feet, it almost felt like
they were working at odds, and the exertion of her effort caused her
to breathe more heavily and deeply. She smelled Julia's tangy, but
strangely clean odor and the top of her mouth began to itch, as if
from the kiss of a lover. She felt a barely noticeable sense of
disappointment as Julia finally managed to right herself, apologizing
profusely.

Julia, breathing hard in earnest, made her way back to her seat and
plopped down, splaying her leather-clad legs widely.  Running her
hands over her face and through her short spiked hair, she looked at
Elizabeth, who was blushing terribly, and asked if she was alright.
Julia also saw the evidence of what she had known would happen...

Elizabeth's lips were slightly puffy and glowing with color, and her
eyes were heavily dilated.

"I've messed your face and hair up, Elizabeth, I'm so sorry!"
exclaimed Julia. "Come on to the ladies room, I'll help freshen you
up. It's the least I can do."

Elizabeth, despite feeling a little awkward at the offer, accepted.
She was hardly in a position to be rude after Julia had been so
apologetic. She blushed as she also realized with a horrified start
that she was soaking wet "down there".

Elizabeth sat in the chair, watching the mirror as the woman behind
her combed the knots out of her hair, briefly tripping her thoughts
over the strangeness of her situation. It wasn't like her to follow a
stranger to the ladies room for a touch-up. She was suddenly struck
starkly by the intimate way that the woman was touching her locks.
Alarmed that she had let things go this far, she had nearly gotten up
the nerve to say that Julia had done enough, when Julia reached into
her black canvas bag and pulled out a makeup kit. 

"Turn your head to the left dear, I can't see that part of your face
well," said Julia. It wasn't a request, it was an admonishment, and
Elizabeth was not about to risk offending this woman, strange as she
was.

Her nose wrinkled as she smelled Julia's aroma again, and then
flared as she breathed deeply. This did not go unnoticed by Julia,
who pressed closer as she applied little touches of mascara to
Elizabeth's eyelashes with her right hand. She began a sort of
endless prattle, full of inane little observations... Elizabeth's
mind was screaming to get out of there, that this woman was some kind
of pervert. *Just another moment, though... can't hurt...,* thought
Elizabeth, deeply ashamed to find that she was much more interested
in the pervasive scent that was invading her head than in her
revulsion at the thought of a lesbian overture.

She began to feel a sense of panic rising in her. *Fear is not a
sense, it's a feeling... touch is a sense, and smell...* she thought
through her growing stupor.  Her fear melted as she gave in to some
deep compulsion to breathe deeply again, the scent filling her mind
like a thick morning fog. She could hear Julia rambling on and on,
and it sounded like the nonsensical jabbering of an auctioneer. After
a time she quit listening entirely, letting Julia say whatever she
wanted, as long as she kept the scent close.

At one point Julia had Elizabeth turn her head in the other
direction and she smiled to herself as she watched the little vixen
pixie stretch unconsciously toward her opposite underarm, her cute
little pixie brow furrowed.

The banter droned on continually as Elizabeth faded in and out of
being able to hear. Strange thoughts were floating around in her
head. Wondering why she was engaged. She was so young. *So much to
experience. So many women, so little time.* She jerked as the alien
thought came to her, but relaxed as her head filled again with the
scent of perfection. *Strange thoughts come up all the time.  Like
getting engaged. To a man. A man like all the rest. Nameless.
Faceless. Heartless.* She jerked again in shock, only to bounce her
nose again against the source of the heavenly scent. *So many odd
thoughts. Like why some people get engaged. To strangers they could
never love. So lucky she never had. So lucky there were women who
understood. So lucky there were lovely women. So lucky there were
women to love. To breathe in deeply of. To fuck mindlessly.* A tiny,
sharp tremor passed through her, but passed quickly into the building
heat in her dizzying brain and in her sopping cunt. Her thoughts were
harder and harder to form into words - they were mostly feelings
now... *Love... scent of heaven...  scent of Julia... Julia...
heaven... Goddess... Julia's slut... horny... worship... Julia...
love... obey...* She shivered coldly as a face she should have known,
the face of a man, slipped into a mist of tangy aroma and disappeared.

Slowly, Elizabeth felt the fog lift and realized once more she was
in a bathroom, seated in a chair. *What was it I was doing...* she
managed to form through the fog. She looked up to see the Goddess
sitting on the sink, her legs spread, her holy pussy open and
glistening with dew.

Elizabeth sighed and breathed... as the now familiar scent, the
scent she lived for, entered through her deeply breathing nostrils,
she remembered why she was here. She was here to worship her Goddess,
Julia.

Of course.

"Lick, cunt," came the Holy Word of Goddess, "and be born again."
The words, echoing something deeply rooted inside her from childhood,
mixed with her past and present and created a desire and heat she had
never before felt. As she began to lick the Holy Wellspring, her own
clit blossomed into a volcano of heat and passion... her fervor was
unstoppable, her thirst for the nectar of her Goddess unquenchable,
and she felt the heat spread through her entire body, infecting and
changing her, her core being swept away and replaced, her purpose
clear as the humming pleasure that was surging through her veins...

The Goddess began to chant her true name, "Yes slut, my slut,
goddddddd yes my elfin cuntlapper..."  Hips and mouth moved as one,
the rhythm of the universe, the desire of countless mythical ages
building to a peak that was brighter than any light Elizabeth had
ever known, and she *felt* more than heard her Deity command her to
cum... and as she came, her relenteless orgasm of fire and spirit
washed away in a deluge of scented perfume the last vestiges of honor
and decency... and she joyously embraced the miracle and her new
definition of Godhead...

----

Julia licked her own juices from her heavily coated fingers,
savoring the taste. Even now, the memory was strong enough to take
her back as if she were there. *Maybe I AM psychic,* she mused. *What
would they call it though... telepafucking? Telefuckathy?*  Laughing,
she raised herself from her chair and went to answer the phone that
had been ringing insistently for the last half-hour.

"Goddess."

Speak of the pixie!  "Yes, my perverted little elf-cunt, you have
news?"

As she listened, an evil smile grew across Julia's face.  For the
second time in five minutes, Goddess Julia began to laugh... what a
wonderful challenge her next conversion promised... and reaching down
between her legs, took another lascivious helping of her own, sweet
scented musk...





----

*As always, I hope that this tickles you in all the ways that
tickling can be... please send any comments, ideas, feedback,
impressions, touching testimonials and other thoughts to
cats_sara@yahoo.com 

- Sara*



http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sara_H/www/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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