Opal Mantra

Your head slumps just a little, feeling strangely heavy, but your eyes still stare helplessly at the opal. It seems like there are impossible depths to it, layers within layers within layers, and each layer sparkles with its own stunning vistas of color. You tell yourself that you should look away, that you need to look away, but every time your eyes flicker away the opal simply moves to capture them again. The only way to escape would be to let your heavy eyelids slip shut, and you know you don't want to do that.

That's exactly what she wants. "The opal draws you in," she says, her voice smooth and measured and quietly confident. "The closer you look, the deeper you find yourself pulled into the depths of the stone. You want to get lost in those glittering colors. You want to allow the opal to capture your thoughts, your mind, your will. It's so easy. You want to sink into the opal and obey."

"No," you say, putting all your will into that single syllable. The word sounds strange coming out of your lips, the consonant sound slurred and the vowel over-enunciated like you've had a few too many drinks. Or perhaps like when you've been without sleep for too long, pushing your body to its limits to try to resist that endless, drowsy undertow that constantly tugs at every thought and makes cognition a tedious and frustrating chore. You shake your head, trying to clear away the cobwebs.

You try to push away the thick, sluggish sensation, like you have so many times in the last...hour? Hours? Time lost its meaning somewhere in the countless recitations of that same hypnotic monologue. You're not quite sure when you realized it was something you needed to resist, but you know it was a little bit too late. By the time the woman with the opal ring stopped seeming like a new friend and fellow stranded traveler, her friend (Piper, was it? Your memory already seems disturbingly vague) had already captured your limbs with her own. By then, your eyes were already trained to focus on the stone. Now it takes a conscious effort to look away. Not that it does any good, of course. None of your resistance does.

The woman with the opal smiles. You can just see it out of the corner of your eye, in the instant before the opal draws you in again. It's the kind of smile that says she knows she has all the time in the world to wring each and every 'no' from your lips, and that she has more than enough patience to wait them out. You try to struggle to your feet again, but the woman behind you has no trouble at all keeping her legs hooked around yours. Wriggling against her only feels awkwardly intimate, drawing your attention to the way her erect nipples rub against your naked body from behind and her hand pins your arms in close contact to her wet cunt.

Even when you strain against her with your whole body, it doesn't do any good. If anything, it makes you feel even more helpless when your struggles finally collapse into exhaustion and she tightens her grip on your body. You can't tell whether she's simply far stronger than you are, or whether the same exhaustion that makes your eyes feel heavy and your head hang down like it was made of lead is making your limbs too weak to break free.

The woman with the opal ring speaks again, like she was just waiting for you to give up. "The opal draws you in." There's something irrefutable about that statement, almost axiomatic in its perfection. She caresses your cheek as she speaks, her touch deliciously gentle against your skin. "The closer you look, the deeper you find yourself pulled into the depths of the stone."

The woman behind you begins teasing you again, the fingers of her free hand delicately tracing your labia with light butterfly touches that build the pleasure between your thighs until you shudder violently in her grasp. You know from what feels like hours of experience that she won't let you release that pleasure, though. Her touches only keep you distracted, fuzzing your thoughts with arousal until they echo like a Hendrix guitar in your head. Her hand creeps up to your breasts, tweaking and tugging your nipples, then back down to your wet pussy in a rhythm that you can't quite anticipate. Every caress catches you by surprise all over again.

"You want to get lost..." the woman with the opal says, stressing the word hard just as the woman behind you strums your clit with her fingertips. "In those glittering colors. You want to allow the opal to capture your thoughts. Your mind." She whispers the words like a lover's endearment, as though the sensuous mantra is a rapturous seduction. "Your will."

You feel your head droop suddenly, slipping down a fraction of an inch in a sudden jolt as you realize you were relaxing so deeply into the gem and her words that you forgot your body even existed. You make a conscious effort to raise it back up, but it feels wobbly atop your neck. You can imagine it lolling back in sleepy lassitude all too easily.

"No," you mumble, aware that your voice has far less strength than it did only a few moments ago. "No, I...no." You want to explain to her that you're not a lesbian, that you only met her a few hours ago and most of that time has been spent staring at her beautiful opal gem in empty distraction while she guided you easily and effortlessly from the airport to a hotel room into the arms of her willing, compliant slave...but the thought seems incomprehensibly complex. The more you try to articulate it, the more it seems to disappear into the coruscating depths of the gemstone. All you can do is repeat, "No," and hope she stops.

She doesn't stop. "It's so easy-you want to sink into the opal and obey," she says, her voice almost sing-song in its emphasis of one word after another. They echo in your head-you find yourself thinking the words 'sink', 'opal', and 'obey' like the lyrics of a half-remembered earworm of a song. They perch on the tip of your tongue, practically begging you to say them, but you make yourself stay silent. Your repeated denials fade away as you focus your will on simply resisting the urge to recite along with the mantra you've now heard countless times.

The teasing from behind you intensifies, the woman's fingers dipping in and out of your wet pussy with maddening finesse. Every time you buck your hips, desperately trying to satisfy the aching need that keeps your mind fogged with desire, she only rides your pussy like a cowgirl taming a wild horse. Her lips nuzzle your neck, caress the line of your jaw until you find your head lolling forward again. You're quivering with pleasure now, a constant shiver of bliss that vibrates in time with the soft keening wail permeating the room.

It takes you almost a full minute to realize the wail is coming from you.

"The opal draws you in," the woman whispers, leaning in close and holding the gem just above the level of your gaze. You have to strain to see it. You can feel the woman behind you silently recite along, her lips tracing the words into your sensitive flesh with every nuzzled syllable. You try to lift your head up, but then those fingers slide back into your wet opening and it's all you can do to keep your fluttering eyes open.

You don't even know what to resist anymore. Struggling only weakens you. The tide of pleasure slips in around your defenses, tempting you with the promise of euphoric bliss if you only let go of your thoughts and given in. Your words have deserted you somewhere in the endless repetitions. "The closer you look, the deeper you find yourself pulled into the depths of the stone," now echoes in your head as well as your ears. You feel like you know it by heart now. Your only avenue of struggle now is silence and stillness, passive surrender instead of active submission. And you know that even that can't last much longer.

"You want to get lost in those glittering colors," she repeats, and you can feel the truth of it taking hold in your sleepy mind. The realization seems inevitable, inexorable, inescapable. Your thoughts have been spiraling around it for so long now, gaining speed as you circle around the event horizon of total capitulation to the opal's power, and now you feel yourself slipping around that final bend into deep, hypnotic obedience. You want to allow the opal to capture your thoughts, your mind, your will. You hear your thoughts in her voice, and you can no longer tell the two apart.

"It's so easy," you hear yourself whisper, your voice nothing more than a blank monotone now as the last vestiges of resistance leak away between your thighs. The woman behind you brushes your clit as a reward for your surrender-not enough to bring you to climax just yet, but you know that your acquiescence to the opal's power isn't complete yet either. You still have so much more mind to give up. This is only the beginning of your programming.

You already want more. "I want to sink...into the opal and obey," you gasp, the words interrupted by a surge of pleasure that makes you husk out the last few words in a thick growl of lust. Your nipples are as firm as little pebbles, and the scent of your sex wafts up to your nostrils. You feel a trickle of saliva at the corner of your mouth as your jaw hangs open in slack, vacant bliss. You can barely see the stone now. Your vision is mostly red warmth, the color of heat and pulsing arousal.

Even then, you can see the opal in its depths. "Good girl," the woman whispers, brushing your lips with her fingers. You taste yourself on them. "Again."

"The opal-" You choke back a gasp as the fingers in your cunt speed up, expertly teasing you to the edge of release and holding you there. "The opal draws me in. The-the closer I look, the...ohhhh, the deeper I, oh, deeper yes, the deeper I find myself pulled...into the depths of the stone. I w-want to get lost...in those...glittering colors." You never knew how sexy the word 'glittering' could sound, but now just hearing it from your own lips nearly makes you come.

"I want...please," you whimper, "please, I want to allow...to allow the opal to capture..." You're panting now, barely even able to speak through the waves of overpowering desire. "M-my thoughts, m-my mind, my...my will!"

The woman with the opal ring leans in and kisses you savagely. "It has," she says, once her lips part from yours. "Always and forever, pet." You let out a loud wail of pleasure as the words twist and twine with the pleasure of the relentless stimulation to coax one orgasm after another out of you like a string of firecrackers going off in your mind. "No escaping the pleasure, no escaping the opal, no escaping your surrender to my will and my power. My good girl. My pet. My obedient slave.

"Now. Wake."

*****

Steph blinked a few times, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes. "Sorry," she said, reaching up to rub away the fragments of half-remembered dream from her mind, "I must have nodded off there. Have they called for boarding?"

The dark-haired woman sitting next to her shook her head sadly. "No, dear, I'm afraid at this rate they're probably going to put us up in a hotel for the night. Not that Piper and I were in any particular hurry, but I'm sure it must be dreadful for you being stranded like this." She patted Steph's hand with an easy familiarity that would have annoyed Steph had anyone else done it, but after sitting around in an airport lounge with them for six hours, she was beginning to feel like she had known these two for years.

"I hope you're not going to be inconvenienced too badly," Piper said from behind her. Steph twitched a little in surprise-she didn't realize Piper was there. The last she remembered, Piper was sitting on the floor next to them, but she must have gotten up while Steph was dozing and moved around...behind her...a sense of strange, erotic familiarity passed through her like deja vu.

"Um, I...no, it's fine," Steph said, trying to shake it off. "I can start my vacation a little late. I don't have any special plans, or...or anything," she finished sheepishly, suddenly finding herself uncharacteristically at a loss for words. She still felt so groggy, like she woke up in the middle of a dream that she couldn't quite remember but couldn't quite forget.

"That's wonderful," Piper said, gently resting her hand on the back of Steph's neck. "It's so nice to just be able to spend some lazy time relaxing, not having to think about anything at all." The touch felt disturbingly intimate, like the part of Steph that wondered why she was letting someone she barely knew caress her like that was being overruled by a part of her that craved that same touch more than anything. Steph found herself passively accepting the contact with a hazy sense of compliance.

"Speaking of which," Piper's friend said, "did I show you my ring? I admit, I'm dreadfully proud of it. It's one of my prize possessions." She lifted up her other hand, revealing a silver ring with a massive opal set into it. "What do you think?"

Steph stared at it, her jaw hanging wide. It seemed so familiar, impossibly familiar. She felt Piper behind her, gently steering her gaze closer to it. It created the illusion that she was holding still, and the gem was getting bigger and bigger. Like it was swallowing her up. Like...

"The opal draws me in," Steph said, her voice softening with every word as she recited her mantra once more. "The closer I look, the deeper I find yourself pulled into the depths of the stone..."

THE END