Pots of Sex

Pots of Sex

What’s the opposite of a heterosexual sexpot?

By Rinky Dink


The following is a complete work of fiction and any similarities to anyone living or dead is strictly coincidental. Due to sexual situations no one under 18 should read this-go away. I apologize for any stereotyping of Indians you may read into this, not intentional. Inspired by a true (I think) event.

Chapter 1

The following is a complete work of fiction and any similarities to anyone living or dead is strictly coincidental. Due to sexual situations no one under 18 should read this–go away. Inspired by a true (I think) event.

“It is so hot to have sex on the floor of a teepee,” moaned the young blonde as she gripped her sex partner’s tan, pert breasts.

“Heep big squaw wants white women’s tongue in snatch, ugh,” laughed the young woman, wearing an Indian headband with a feather on top of her head, but nothing else as she writhed on the bearskin rug.

“What’s the Indian word for ’69’,” the blonde whispered before kissing the breasts of the Indian.

“Don’t know, while we do it, I’ll think of one,” said the Indian girl. “Oh Tara! Until you came to the reservation I never knew what good sex was.”

“Good sex? You mean great sex,” said Tara with a grin. “Now flip over and be prepared for some really great sex. Custer is ready to charge.”

The Indian girl’s body was soon heaving, as the blonde woman was obviously an expert at this. Her tongue flicked in and out of the red-colored snatch while her right hand rubbed gently the clit.

The Indian woman was more direct, burying her nose into the blonde-trimmed slit and giving long, hard strokes to the inside.

Soon, the Indian woman gave a soft mewl and her back quickly arched. Cum started pouring out of her sex but Tara just licked harder, making the orgasm become even bigger and longer lasting.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!,” shouted the Indian woman as she had to withdraw from the blonde’s sex as spasm after spasm of joy was coursing through her body.

But she had done her job good enough, feeling the Indian’s cum on her face combined with her licking had turned on Tara enough where she sighed and began feeling her own orgasm.

“A woo-, woo-woo-woo-woo!” said Tara gleefully, making a bit of good-natured fun of her sex partner’s heritage, as she then began moaning loudly as she felt the orgasm continue.

At that moment, the flap on the teepee opened and an older Indian man, dressed like in an old Hollywood movie, in full headdress and wearing clothes made of feathers and skins, rushed in.

“Come Many Feathers what’s wrong, I heard shouting,” said the man who then saw the two young women grinding on the floor. “Oh my!! What is this! What is going on my daughter!!”

The two women looked up and seeing the man quickly lost their state of bliss, as their faces took on a look more like terror. They quickly jumped up and ran to the chair that held their clothes.

“My father, I have done nothing wrong, we are just having fun,” said the Indian woman as she threw on her leather bra top and slipped on her matching brown leather short skirt.

“Fun, you call this disgusting display, it’s immoral,” said the man. “Imagine, Chief Fulltown’s daughter engaged in lascivious action with another woman, and a white women to boot. This is not acceptable behavior.”

“Tara, you better go back to your room, this is between me and my father,” said the Indian woman.

The blonde woman needed no incentive as she quickly dashed out of the teepee.

“Father, I was hoping I could break the news to you gently but it really doesn’t matter, you know now,” said Come Many Feathers. “I like having sex with women. I don’t want to have sex with men anymore. I’ve never felt joy at having sex until this summer when Tara and her college friends introduced me to the wonders of having sex with other women.”

“It’s all their fault,” thundered the chief in a booming voice. “You were a nice squaw who was going to be a prize for any warrior in the tribe. These four white girls arrive from college with crazy ideas and seduce an innocent young girl like you. Can’t you see this is insanity Come Many Feathers.”

“You are wrong father, these four women have come to introduce me to the most pleasurable feelings I have ever had,” said Come Many Feathers, her red skin getting a shade darker as she got more agitated. “I thank the Buffalo gods they came and liberated me to see a way to enjoy myself sexually.

“Face it father. See me as I really am. I am a lesbian. And to be honest, being 19 and frisky, I consider myself to be a lesbian slut. I want to have sex with as many pretty women, white and Indian, as I can right now.”

“This is not acceptable, not acceptable at all for the chief’s daughter to be a lesbian slut,” said the chief. “I will immediately banish the four white devil women who have obviously placed a curse upon your soul.”

“No you won’t!” shouted Come Many Feathers. “These aren’t devil women, these are nice girls, very nice girls actually, you know all the good they’ve done here. They are just doing what comes naturally. And it comes naturally to me too. I know that now.

“If you throw them out before their term ends, I will leave father and you will never see me again. You will lose a daughter.”

Chief Fulltown stood there and fumed. Having his daughter leave the tribe would be very embarrassing and his wife would never forgive him for driving her away. But he couldn’t have a lesbian Indian princess, that was something he could not deal with.

But he could see his daughter would not budge. She was like him, he thought, unbending in her principles when she thought she was right.

“OK, Come Many Feathers, I will not banish the college girls, at this point they are involved in too many projects that will help the reservation to leave now anyhow,” said the chief. “But please reconsider this lifestyle decision. You are a princess after all.”

Come Many Feathers smiled. She knew her father loved her deeply and also knew she could wrap him around her finger when needed.

“Yes father, I will think about having sex with men, but no promises,” she said as she went over and gave him a hug.

Come Many Feathers thought the storm had passed as the chief left her teepee but she did not see the glower on his face as he walked away.

“My daughter will not walk with other women,” he muttered to himself. “As sure as the Sun God shines every morning, this activity will be ended, soon.”

Sandy quickly whipped off her tank top and pulled down her pleated, plaid skirt. With her field hockey uniform lumped on the floor, she lay on her dorm room bed in her pink bra and panties and let out a sigh.

“Finally, I’m back where I belong,” said Sandy as she spread her arms and legs out, her sinewy, pale white form now covering every corner of the bed. “And now I can get back with the ‘Pots of Sex’.”

She knew the fact her college field hockey team had been able to take a month-long tour of Australia was certainly a once in a lifetime experience she did not want to miss.

Sandy had worked as hard as anyone on the fundraising for it but as a result of the trip she had missed the first couple weeks of the fall semester and she knew she was behind both academically and socially.

“Wonder what the girls are up to,” thought Sandy, who them giggled to herself. “Or more likely, how many girls have their tongues been into.”

Sandy was grateful to have found such a set of super best friends who were so attuned to each other’s likes and dislikes.

All were very attractive, liked to have a good time but were not into the drug scene, got good grades and looked to be on a path to bright futures when they graduated college. And, oh yeah, they all absolutely loved to have as much sex as possible with other women.

She knew there were girls in her situation, liking to sleep with other girls, who led lonely and isolated existences.

Hearing how much fun Sandy had with her group, several of her teammates had asked her if they could get together with her friends as well. Sandy hated to say no but they had made a pact the year before to limit the group to five and, OK it was a bit selfish, but why spoil a good thing?

“Hey, I’m first one to sign up for volunteer work,” thought Sandy. “You gotta let me slide with ‘The Pots of Sex’.”

She giggled again at the name they had come up with for their little band of sexy Sappho sisters.

A very prissy straight girl had come up to Tara, the tall, long-legged blonde, and said if she had just liked guys like a normal person she could be a sexpot.

“Well,” she had replied. “Sorry, I’m the opposite. I like girls. So I guess instead of a sexpot, I am a pot of sex.”

The girls had liked that line so well, they decided to adopt it as their official name.

What stirred the drink in the group, Sandy had decided, was how diverse the background of the girls was.

Sandy was the jock, a 5-foot-10 redhead with six-pack abs and a body seemingly carved out of marble. Sandy did nothing halfway. She played hard, studied hard and pursued other women even harder.

Tara was almost as tall as Sandy but definitely no jock. She cried when she broke a fingernail. A definite “girly-girl” she was drop, dead gorgeous and already was working on the side as a model. No one doubted when she left college she would make a fine living walking a runway full-time.

Lara was the intellectual. With her granny glasses and the pageboy cut of her dark hair framing a cute face, she looked the part and her ‘brainiac’ persona proved alluring as she might on a given week sleep with more girls than even Tara.

Joanie was the stereotypical college militant feminist, except when she was with the ‘Pots of Sex’.

She wore fatigues and tight vests that showed off her large breasts and firm stomach and unless it rained she usually went barefoot.

She was always protesting something but when she was with the group she magically transformed into a warm, fun-loving person who was a riot to be around. Sandy decided after being mad at the world all day, the group was Joanie’s chance to kick back and just enjoy life and let off some steam.

Becky was the “artsy” one. Always wearing weird multi-colored thrift shop clothes around her very cute body that probably had breasts too large for her small-boned 5-foot-2 frame. She always seemed in a positive mood and life basically was a hoot to her. Rumor had it that Becky’s family was worth millions but no one in the group had dared to ask her.

Thinking about her friends reinvigorated Sandy. She had not seen them since the spring semester ended and was anxious to know how their summer had gone.

They had decided as a group to take up an offer a sociology professor, Dr. Miriam Oxmis, had given selected students of working on an Indian reservation in Arizona for the summer. Because of the isolation, the outside workers there wanted to go away for the summer and they were in desperate need of educated people to help run things.

It promised to be an interesting experience, the pay was very good, and when Oxmis also said they could earn college credit by working there they had jumped at the chance.

However, due to the Australian trip, the field hockey team was practicing all summer so Sandy had not been able to join them, and she badly wanted to find out what escapades she had missed.

Sandy knew the easiest one to find of the group was Joanie. When not in class, she could always be found in her Women’s Alliance office at the Student Center.

But when she walked into the office, she saw a short blonde woman in a man-tailored suit.

“Can I help you?” said the woman with a bit of lust in her voice as she eyed Sandy’s cut body.

“Um, I was looking for Joanie Collins, is she around, I’m a friend of her’s,” said Sandy.

The blonde woman immediately got a sour look on her face and looked downward.

“She…she no longer is a member,” she said.

Sandy’s eyes bugged out slightly. Joanie not a member! The Women’s Alliance was Joanie’s baby. She had sweated buckets building it up into a force on campus.

“What do you mean she’s not a member,” said Sandy finally. “Joanie IS the Women’s Alliance, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Oh, I know, I agree,” said the woman. “My name is Randi Barley and I was her vice president. She just came into the office one day a couple of weeks ago and said to me, “I’m quitting, you’re in charge now”, and later that night dropped off all her records in my room and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

“But why would Joanie just up and quit?, I’ve known her a while and I thought she loved running this,” said Sandy.

“Yeah, I know,” said Randi is a soft whisper that became even softer. “She said the club was just taking too much time away from her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend!!,” said Sandy in a near shout, so shocked was she to here the word ‘Joanie’ and ‘boyfriend’ used in the same sentence.

“Yes, boyfriend, I had the same reaction as you,” said Randi. “I mean, officially, our organization is of course open to women of all sexual preferences but, if you’re a friend of her’s, you know there was never any doubt which team Joanie played for.

“Until now. She’s dating some good-looking, for a guy, history major. They met first week of class in the library and have been a couple ever since.”

“Well…I..I don’t what to say,” stammered Sandy. She would have believed the Earth was flat before Joanie would be interested in a guy.

“Neither do I, strange huh,” said Randi. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Sandy went out of the office in a daze. Joanie the quintessential man-hating radical lesbian was dating a guy?

She walked around the school quadrangle trying to get her thoughts together,

She saw walking towards her Todd Hunter, the best player on the baseball team. Sandy had never been a man-hating lesbian like Joanie (had been?), she had nothing against men, she just felt no desire to have sex with them

Todd was in several of her physical education classes and had dated Carol, one of her teammates on the field hockey team, but they had broken up right before the team left for Australia. But he seemed to have gotten over it just fine as he strided purposely her way with a big smile on his face.

“Hey Sandy, you guys back from Down Under already,” said Todd with a toothy grim.

“Yep, got in last night, tiring but fun,” said Sandy, glad to think of something other then Joanie’s seeming conversion to heterosexuality. “Never played in front of a pack of koala bears before.”

“Great,” said Todd in a chipper voice. “Uh, how was Carol? I guess you know it wasn’t a good breakup.”

“We spent a month in Australia, every girl on the team knows the details Todd,” said Sandy. “It happens. Carol’s fine now. The trip did her good.”

“Well that’s nice, Carol is a decent person and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her,” said Todd, still looking like the cat who ate the canary. “I’ve moved on and I hope Carol finds someone nice and does the same.”

“Really, who’s the lucky girl?” asked Sandy.

“Actually, I think you might know her, she has mentioned your name once or twice,” said Todd. “Her name is Tara Butler. What a knockout! And she is so nice.

“Actually, we’re meeting for lunch and I’m late. Gotta go Sandy but tell Carol I hope everything works out. I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Tara!! Her too!!

Sandy wobbled to the nearest bench and flopped down. She was too floored to even think about getting up.

Her mind was numb with the information that two of her closest lesbian friends, well, we’re no longer lesbians.

“This has to be a dream, maybe I’m still in Australia and I had a bad vegamite sandwich and I’m passed out in my hotel room,” said Sandy as she ran her hands through her short, curly red hair. “This is too weird.”

She knew sometimes women experimented sexually in college before settling down with a man.

But this was different, Joanie and Tara had never expressed a single bisexual vibe in all the time she had spent with them.

They just didn’t have sex with other women, they reveled in it, totally consumed with girl-on-girl sex. It was part of their very being, very soul. They were, as Tara had put it, pots of sex. Girl sex.

After an hour on the bench trying to compose herself. Sandy finally got up.

“I’ve got to find Lara and Becky,” she thought, “and find out what the heck happened to Tara and Joanie while I was away.”

Chapter 2

Dr. Miriam Oxmis looked down upon the pretty blonde lass in bed next to her and gently ran her fingers through tufts of the slumbering girl’s dirty blonde curls.

“Thank you Lara,” she whispered. “I never knew sex, or love, could be like this. Thank you my sweet little pot of sex.”

She had taken the summer directorship program at the reservation to help the Indians, not to find a lesbian lover but this certainly was a bonus.

She had quickly found Lara and her friends totally delightful and soon so had everyone else.

With her intellectual bent, Miriam had found herself wanting to spend time with Lara a little more than the other girls, and found herself in a torrid affair. At this point, Lara didn’t even put up a pretense her and the professor were just good friends; her bed had lain untouched for two weeks.

Lara gave a brief, contented sigh as she turned her cute, nude form to the other side. They had just spent three hours having sex and Lara was bushed, and Miriam was feeling she would join her soon in slumber as she rubbed Lara’s cute little butt a bit.

“I am like miss rigidity and this is so against the faculty code,” she thought. “I guess we’ll have to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Since Lara had one more year of college to go, they had decided to not see each other except professionally for the next year.

That way, Miriam would not endanger her job and Lara frankly wanted to have one last year of unfettered fun before settling down; and this way they would both know if this was true love or just a summer fling.

With her brains, getting Lara a grad student’s position would be no problem, thought Miriam, and then they could set up housekeeping and openly be lesbian lovers.

“Boy, my life has turned up for the better in the last month or so,” thought Miriam as she decided she was finally ready for sleep. “Here I was getting over a divorce, having all those weirdoes call when City Magazine named me one of the top 100 singles in the area and actually just lonely as can be.”

Well, she knew she had to get rest, as Lara almost always wanted a morning quickie. Lara and her friends had such a voracious appetite for girl-girl sex; it’s a wonder they got so much work done, Miriam thought.

Miriam decided she was too tired to get up and put her nightgown on, so she settled her nude body under the covers and rested her head on the down pillow.

After a minute of so, Miriam’s nose twitched. She had heard, or felt, some kind of sound. A call?, the wind? She turned herself over and forgot about it.

But a minute later she suddenly bolted upward. Someone was calling out to her, she heard the word “Come” clear as a bell — but there was no one else in her room and Lara was snoozing comfortably next to her.

Miriam shook her head, must have been a dream she decided. But then it rang out again, and she realized there was no one else there, she was hearing it strictly in her mind.


What, what’s going on?


Who? Who are you?


Why? Why me?

“Come. Now!”

Miriam’s eyes turned blank and a sheet of glass. She stiffly got out of bed and made no attempt to grab her nightie lying right near her on a chair. She calmly and slowly opened the bedroom door and gently closed it behind her.

Lara turned over in her sleep and her arm absentlymindedly clutched at a pillow, subconsciously expecting the warm body of her lover to have been in her grasp.

“A Buffalo head on top of your head, that’s pretty like stereotypical Indian Medicine Man stuff, isn’t it Marty,” said Chief Fulltown, wearing a blue golf shirt and khaki shorts as they stood in a small clearing at the edge of the reservation.

“Well, you’re not exactly asking me to do something modern Chief,” said the man who was in his early 50s, and who had his head fitting snuggly in the spot where the Buffalo’s lower jaw had been. “You want me to fix a cold, I have lots of stuff in the office, for what you want, I got to bring out the family Buffalo hide.”

“As I explained, it must be done, as Medicine Man you must do what is best for the tribe,” said the chief. “You can really do this, right?”

“When I was just a little Indian boy, I would spend a lot of time with my grandfather, he was of the old school,” said the Medicine Man. “He taught me much of what people might call the black magic. When the white man came 100 years ago, he told me stories how his spells kept them away.

“He would turn their water into oil, have them dream horrible nightmares, make their women frigid or worse, make them want to walk with other women. Soon, no one dared try to settle our area.”

“I remember stories about your grandfather, he was a hero to our people but everyone was scared to death of him,” said the chief.

“Yes, you did not want to cross him with his great power but I was his grandson so he was kind to me,” said the Medicine Man. “My parents, when he died, made me swear to forget the lessons he had taught me.

” They said it was too cruel, that we must make peace with the white people, not war, and that being a Medicine Man meant helping people, not hurting them.

“And until now I have obeyed their wishes, only an order from the chief would have me not honor my father and mother.”

“Did you remember your grandfather’s lessons,” asked the chief, who was puffing nervously on a cigarette now.

“Look for yourself”

In the near darkness, a figured loomed about 100 yards away.

All the two men could see for a bit was a dark splotch but as the figure slowly got closer some definition could be seen.

In the middle of the figure there was now obvious curvature, and there were some protrusions near the top of the figure, which slowly but inexorably was heading straight for them.

Finally, as the chief smiled, the figure stopped 10 feet in front of where the medicine man was standing.

“I have come,” said Miriam tonelessly. Her eyes blankly staring at the old Indian wearing a Buffalo on his head, registering not the slightest bit of surprise at the sight.

“You made her take her clothes off?” asked the chief as he eyed Miriam’s shapely body and long, wavy chestnut hair.

“No, I guess she sleeps in the nude, or was just finished shagging the cute little blonde I’ve seen her around with,” said the Medicine Man. “Now quiet chief. Time to do my thing and unleash the ancient spirits.”

The medicine man stooped a bit and threw some twigs on a smoldering fire, making it flare up a bit as it licked around a black iron pot.

“Come up right up to the pot, Dr. Oxmis,” he said.

“Pot,” she whispered, “my pot.”

Miriam robotically made her way the few yards to the front of the pot that was hanging above the now pretty well-lit fire.

“What’s she 35 maybe, great boobs, very firm when she came over,” commented the chief.

“Shush, not another word,” said the medicine man. “Miriam just stand here and breathe, breathe deeply.”

The medicine man put some brownish leaves into the pot and a large swirl of smoke shot out and right into Miriam’s face. As instructed, she was breathing deeply, so deeply that her ribs were showing as she exhaled. She got a full lungfull of the smoke and her face twitched a bit but otherwise she had no expression.

“Breathe, breathe my lady,” said the medicine man. “Nothing, absolutely nothing but the thought of breathing deeply is in your head.”

Miriam continued to inhale and exhale in long bursts and the medicine man continued to feed the pot the leaves. Puff after puff of smoke went up and a good bit of it was entering Miriam’s nose.

“You are no longer a professor at the university but a simple handmaiden, dedicated to serving the medicine man at this reservation in any way he sees fit,” said Marty as he put in the last few leaves he had in his hand. “Nothing matters to you but serving your new master. You would kill, if necessary, in his defense.”

“Kill?,” said the chief.

“No, I’m not going to have her kill anybody, it’s just a figure of speech,” said the medicine man. “It just means she will do absolutely anything I tell her, no matter what.”

Miriam’s eyes were now completely lifeless and glassy, her shoulders slightly slumped and her jaw slightly open.

“Dr. Oxmis, you are in the Incense of Obedience, you must obey, no other thought is in your mind but to obey,” said the medicine man.

“Obey,” she whispered. “I obey.”

“Come to me and repeat what you will obey,” said the medicine man who had walked over to where the chief had been observing the proceedings.

Miriam turned slightly to her right and slowly went over to where the two old redmen were standing. She stopped only a couple feet from them.

“I am a simple handmaiden, I obey the medicine man, I will do anything he tells me too,” she said, now a bit more firmly.

“Again,” the medicine man barked.

“I am a simple handmaiden, I obey the medicine man, I will do anything he tells me to.”


“I am a simple handmaiden, I obey the medicine man, I will do anything he tells me to.”

“Excellent my pretty,” said the medicine man as he turned to the chief with a grin and then pulled down his pants. “On your knees slut maiden and give me oral.”

Miriam immediately dropped to her knees and engorged her mouth with the red, wrinkled member.

“Sometimes the old ways are the best way. Particularly if I have a pretty girl as a sex slave for an old coot like me,” said the medicine man as he then groaned a bit.

“I assume you will do this to the four college girls, have them hear the call of the wolf and then have them breath the Incense of Obedience,” said the chief.

“Oh no, this is powerful stuff,” he said, motioning to the stiffly squatting, blank-eyed women. “I mean, she’s pretty much a veg now. Just one for me, particularly since you said she had no immediate family, so I could do it.

“To do that to four others, particularly college girls with many friends and family who know them. No way. I have too much wisdom to know I couldn’t get away with that.

“Don’t worry, I know what you want and you’ll get it”.

The medicine man then ejaculated into Miriam’s mouth. She did not flinch a bit.

Sandy finally collected herself enough to make her way to the college’s Science Building. Right now she had to see Lara, hopefully the scientific whiz could give her some answers as to why two of their former lesbian super best friends were now straight.

She figured the best place to look would be the chemistry department.

Lara was the best drink mixer at the girl parties they went to and she used to joke that she spent her free time creating exotic drinks that caused women great arousal in her free time at the chem lab.

Two labs were empty but in the third one she struck gold. Lara was there wearing a white smock and goggles, pouring a tube of something into a beaker. She had her trademark granny glasses on and Sandy also noticed a necklace with a woodcarving of some kind was around her neck.

Next to her was a sandy haired guy furiously taking notes.

Sandy quietly walked in but stayed near the door, who knew what the heck Lara was working on, could be dangerous, she figured.

When the tube was completely empty, Lara whipped off her goggles and looked up and saw Sandy. A big smile immediately spread across her face.

“My big, dumb jock!” she shouted, and they raced to each other and hugged.

“My intellectual geek,” said Sandy back to her after the hugs. She was so relieved, Lara was acting, well, like Lara should toward her.

“Oh, we missed you so Sandy, the reservation was SO interesting, wish you had been there,” said Lara brightly.

“Well, I missed you guys too,” said Sandy, “as soon as I got back to school I had to look all of you up.”

“Well, you found me,” said Lara as she opened her arms and pointed at herself. Sandy giggled, Lara was still Lara, thank goodness, still acting like a Pot of Sex.

“Oh, and you found him too,” said Lara as she pointed to the man in the room with matching smock and goggles but no necklace. “This is Tim Bonds, he’s helping me with my experiments. Helping me a lot. Timmy, this is Sandy, she is like one of my best friends in the whole world.”

“Hi,” he said simply.

“If your not too busy Lara, I’d like to talk to you right away,” said Sandy not wanting to divulge too much in front of a stranger.

“Sure, no prob Sandy, you have your Aussie stories and I have my Indian stories,” said Lara as she went back to the beaker and began putting it away. “Timmy, the Zosian solution will need to ferment overnight anyhow. I’m going to grab a cup of coffee with Sandy.”

“Sure thing hun,” said Tim as he then walked crossed the lab and gave her a full kiss on the lips. “Remember, we have tickets to the movie for the 7 p.m. show.”

“Don’t worry Tim-scomes, you know I’m the punctual type,” said Lara as she gave him a quick buss on the cheek and then a quick pat on the rear to send him on his way.

As soon as Tim left, Sandy turned to Lara. “What was that about?”

“Oh Tim, well, he’s my boyfriend, sorry to spring that on you Sandy like that but I guess you’d find out when I wasn’t at any girl orgies soon enough,” said Lara.

“But Lara, you like girls, you love to have sex with women,” sputtered Sandy, now Lara too!!. “You’re a Pot of Sex.”

“Well,” said Lara shaking her head gaily from side to side while she fingered her woodcarving. “I guess it was just a phase, a lot of women do that you know, have a taste of pussy before settling down. I guess I am really a sexpot, but I hope we can still be friends Sandy.”

Sandy suddenly was gripped with the thought that she had to see Becky, freespirited, pussy-loving Becky. You could torture her as long as you want, no way Becky would not want to sleep with girls.

“Uh, sure, but you know what, I have a previous engagement I forgot about,” said Sandy hurriedly. “Well get together soon though, promise.”

Sandy searched the arts center but could not find Becky. She lived off-campus and Sandy walked the mile to her apartment complex as fast as she could.

They couldn’t get Becky she thought, they just couldn’t, although Sandy had no idea who “they” were or if there even was a ‘they’.

It was a place mostly for professors as it was out of the price range of most students. They had all enjoyed going to the pool there and making fun of the old professors in their bathing suits while they showed off their hot young bodes in bikinis.

Becky had long-ago given her the combination to get in without buzzing in so Sandy was able to go straight to her floor.

As she approached her door she saw it was slightly open and Sandy hurried her pace as maybe Becky was in trouble.

Sandy heard strange sounds emanating behind the door and she decided to take a peek to make sure Becky was OK. She figured she could put the door back and knock if nothing was amiss.

Sandy slowly gripped the side of the door and swung it just a few inches at a time, making sure it made almost no sound.

It took about two minutes of this slow opening before Sandy ducked her head inside. Her eyes immediately bugged out.

Becky was laying on her side. A young man was jamming her rear with his penis, pumping again and again as he obviously was deeply inside her anus.

Another man was laying across her, driving his member into her slit.

Becky’s moans were muffled as another man was straddling her and she had his dick in her mouth and obviously rolling it around in there from the loud sucking sounds.

Sandy noticed a little wood carving was around the back of Becky’s neck held on by a thin leather string, she remembered Lara had a similar necklace. Becky had obviously moved it to the back so she could engorge her mouth with the penis without it interfering with her task at hand.

The sounds of Becky’s moans combined with the grunts of the three young men plus the squish sounds of their penetrations into the art student openings made for a small cacophony of sex noises.

A yelp from the man in her butt signaled he was cumming and Sandy could see his now quickened pace into her rear as it filled with his semen trying to wring every little bit of the anal sex..

Sandy as silently as possible slid the door back to where she had found it.

She barely was able to hit the elevator button to go down as her hands were shaking.

Becky was not only having sex with a man, she was getting gang-banged, and apparently loving it!

As Sandy got off the elevator, she realized she really didn’t have anywhere to go.

She wasn’t expected in class until tomorrow and she had expected her day to be spent with her fellow Pots of Sex, but the other pots were now broken.

They liked guys now, and she still liked girls, as far as she knew. She wasn’t sure of anything at the moment as her world crashed down upon her.

She went to the pool area of the complex. It was empty as it was a bit cool now to be swimming.

She lay on a beach chair and began crying. She had gone in one day from having the best friends in the world to being friendless. What a horrible, awful senior year she would have.

Sandy sat there in the chair, hands in her head as she cried her eyes out. It seemed like the only thing she could do and that just made her cry even harder.

After a while, a shadow fell across her face. Sandy was bawling so much she did not notice the tall man, in a black suit wearing dark sunglasses standing with his hands crossed in front of him.

“Could you use a handkerchief Miss,” he finally said.

Sandy straightened up and ran her arm across her red-splotched face

“Uh, yeah, thank you,” she said as took the handkerchief and began wiping her face off. “Sorry mister but I have just gotten some bad news.”

“Can I help,” he said quickly.

“No,” said Sandy as she blew her nose and tried to compose herself somewhat for the stranger. “It’s just something I have to deal with, I guess.”

“OK,” the man said. “Uh, is your name Sandy McKay?”

“Yes,” said Sandy warily, she was sure she did not know this man, and field hockey players did not have groupies.

“Uh, um, Miss McKay, I know this may sound strange and it is very personal and if you are offended in any way you don’t have to answer and…”

“Just ask me the question, it’s OK,” Sandy said, now regaining her composure. “I get a lot of guys fumbling around when they want to talk to me. Shoot.”

“Are you a Pot of Sex?”

Sandy’s eyes widened.

No one knew that was their secret name except the five members, how did this guy know it, Sandy wondered if this was it, was this guy about to make her straight like the other girls.

She thought of lying but decided if he was part of some gay-to-straight secret operation he certainly would not have come by himself.

She was sunk, she realized, and decided to tell the truth, lying wasn’t her style anyway. My mom will be so happy, she thought.

“Yes,” she said with a wan, sad smile. “I am a Pot of Sex. Or was.”


“Well, my fellow pots have gone in a different direction that appears to have broken the group up and I assume you are here to turn me into the same thing.”

“I don’t know what you mean miss, I’m not here to turn you into anything,” said the man. “Uh, this is hard for me because I went to Catholic school and we didn’t talk about this stuff but…”

“Just spit it out fella,” said Sandy. “Get it over with already.”

“OK. Do you like to have sexual relations with other women?”

“Well, sure.”

“Women exclusively or both men and women?”

“Just women. I am 100-percent lesbian prime beef right here. You wanted to get together or something?.”

“No, I’m married and have three kids,” said the man. “Although if I wasn’t I would find you very attractive.”

“Thank you,” said Sandy. “I can take compliments from men, just no fooling around. So if you don’t want to get in my pants, and you don’t want to mess with my head, why are you talking to me and why do you know so much about me. Kind of weirds me out frankly.”

“Strictly professional Miss McKay,” said the man. “Sorry to weird you out. My name is Matt.”

“Hi Matt, please call me Sandy. Now what’s this about, you interrupted a good cry,” said Sandy now really curious as to what this was about and a bit relieved she was not going to be brainwashed into a heterosexual.

“I assume you know a Becky Robinson, one of your fellow Pots of Sex,” said Matt. “I work for her father’s company in the security department.”

“So Becky’s family really is rich,” thought Sandy.

“Anyhow, her father assigned a security detail to come here as he was concerned about her personal life.

“She never seemed to go out on a date or talk about getting married or having kids and since she is his only child he wanted to make sure there would be future heirs to take over the corporation as she has told him repeatedly she had no interest in the business.”

“Yeah, Becky is definitely not the corporate type,” said Sandy. “So you found out why she never brought a boy to meet the parents, huh.”

“Yes, we found out about her many, many sexual activities with women,” said Matt who took off his glasses and looked straight at Sandy. “And then we found some other things.”

“Yeah, I just found her upstairs doing ‘some other things’ with three guys,” said Sandy, the pain returning as she felt a tightness in her chest.

“Well, it’s more than that, much more,” said Matt. “If you don’t mind Sandy, I’d like to take you to our surveillance office. There is some video there I would like to show you. It might explain a lot and being a fellow Pot of Sex with Becky you might help us.”

Sandy gave a deep sigh, finally some answers. She got up off the beach chair and followed Matt to a waiting black town car.

“How’d you know I was here,” she asked as they made their way to the street.

“We have been monitoring Becky since the spring and recent events have just intensified our surveillance,” explained Matt.

“All I know is all my lesbian friends are now straight,” spluttered Sandy as she entered the car. “Can you explain.”

“We’ll see,” said Matt as he hopped behind the wheel. “But it’s hard to explain really.”

Chapter 3

“…and then I pointed down and said ‘no, that’s Little Hiawatha, now take care of him with your tongue’,” said Tara with a laugh as her head reared back and her long, blonde, wavy hair flowed into the air, the sun making it shimmer even brighter than normal.

The three girls sharing the picnic table with her also convulsed in laughter, trying not to endanger their lunch in their glee as several pounded their hands on the wooden top.

“This place has been such a hoot, and so intellectually stimulating,” said Lara.

“Yeah, I see Dr. Oxmis has been intellectually stimulating you every night,” said Becky, who quickly ducked a piece of chicken salad thrown at her by Lara.

“Well, I’ve learned something,” said Joanie. “Women are equal no matter their color.”

“That’s nice,” said Tara.

“Yes, I’ve learned that a red-skinned woman can lick a pussy just as well as a white woman,” said Joanie, which just set off another round of guffaws.

“It’s been so much fun, and I think we all agree, no kidding around, that all of us have learned so much being here. The only downer is I wish Sandy was here to experience this with us,” said Becky. “We’re just one Pot short of having a perfect time.”

Everyone gave a brief sigh and nodded their heads in agreement.

“Yeah but she had to go to Australia, they’d been planning that for years; you know she’d be here if she could,” said Lara. “I promise, first thing when I see her at school, I’m taking her to a lesbian strip club and we’re going to have a wild night of sex, sex and more girl sex.”

“Count me in on that,” said Tara quickly.

“Me too,” piped in Becky.

“Me three,” said Joanie. “Oh my, it’s going to be lesbian orgy time for Sandy next time we see her, big time.”

At that moment, coming up the path, the girls saw Dr. Miriam Oxmis and they quieted down. Even if she was Lara’s lover, she was still their superior and knew to act appropriately if they wanted their college credit from her.

“Lara… I must see you now… it is urgent,” said Miriam in an emotionless tone as she stood straight as an arrow in front of the table.

“Sure baby – oops! – I mean doctor,” said Lara, remembering that her girlfriend wanted no public signs of their relationship. “I’m all yours.”

Lara threw the remnants of her lunch in the garbage can and headed off with the doctor. Instead of going back on the path to the reservation, Miriam guided the coed over a nearby hill, which led to a treeline and the border of the reservation.

“Hey girls, where do you think she’s taking Lara?” said Joanie. “Nothing there but grass until you hit the trees, can’t even see anything because of the hill.”

“Boy, for an important school leader you sure are stupid,” said Tara. “That’s the point, she is taking Lara to a place no one can see. It’s called a perfect make-out place, dummy. Doc’s urgent business is she needs her pussy licked.”

“I guess, but Miriam’s been acting weird the last day or so; I mean, she’s doing her job but not showing much joy about it,” said Becky.

“She’s just probably uncomfortable with the whole idea of dating one of her students,” said Tara. “She’ll come around. Then we can be one happy little tribe of lesbians.”

As Lara made her way down the hill, hand in hand with Miriam, she had the same thought as Tara – that her girlfriend was taking her to a new spot to have makeout. But Miriam had not said a word since the picnic table and frankly had not been very communicative period for the past 24 hours.

“Uh, Miriam, I have to get back to the aqueduct refitting pretty soon, so it has to be a quickie,” said Lara.

“It will be resolved, it will all be resolved shortly,” said Miriam in the same dry, toneless voice as before

Near the bottom of the hill, Miriam suddenly stopped. Lara was frankly a bit concerned. What was this all about? Miriam sure did not look horny, more spaced out.

“C’mon Doc, why did you bring me here,” asked Lara. “If we’re going to be lovers we have to be honest with each other.”

Miriam suddenly had a smile on her face and reached into the pocket of her shorts and produced a ring. It was a golden ring with some obvious Indian writing on the crown and sparkled in the bright sunlight as it looked brand new.

“Here Lara, this is my present to you, my gift to celebrate our new lives together,” said Miriam with some spring in her voice. “Please put it on. It would make me so happy.”

Lara looked at the ring in front of her.

It was quite beautiful and exotic looking. She gave a sigh and a small smile. All her worries had been for nothing, she thought, Miriam just wanted to be alone with her to give her an authentic Indian ring to celebrate their blooming relationship.

“This is so sweet, thank you Miriam,” said Lara as she kissed her on the cheek and then took the ring and put it on her finger. “What does it symbolize in Indian lore?”

As soon as Lara placed the ring on her finger she instantly felt a wave of sleepiness wash over her. Her eyes rolled up into her head and her body went limp. Miriam rushed over quickly to catch the now unconscious figure before Lara’s body could collapse to the ground.

Miriam held Lara in her arms, Lara’s free arm swinging wildly and loose with the ring still on it.

“Its called the “Ring of Slumber”,” said Miriam, now back to her emotionless voice, as she carried Lara’s body to a nearby spot where she knew her Master would be waiting.

Sandy looked at all the people scurrying around in white lab coats and the walls covered in a seemingly unending row of blinking computers as she followed Matt down the corridor of what she had been told was the surveillance unit for her friend Becky’s father’s large company.

After entering the car in front of Becky’s apartment, Matt had said little on the 45-minute drive.

“What the heck does Becky’s dad do?” said Sandy in wonder.

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you,” said Matt as Sandy’s eyes bugged out. “Nah, not really, just pulling your leg; but without the proper security clearance, I’m really not suppose to say.”

“As long as this is not a lesbian to straight girl factory, I don’t need to know,” said Sandy, who figured she could get Becky to tell her one day – if Becky and her were still close friends, that is.

“No, no, as I told you, we need your help, it’s not our job to change your sexual preference,” said Matt as he led Sandy into a dark room that had a large movie screen on the far side. “Sit here with me and watch what we are about to show you; see what you think.”

“What no popcorn?” asked Sandy, trying to lighten the atmosphere; everything had turned so bizarre since she had arrived back at school, and her being here with a professional security agent just made it seem more bizarre.

“Sorry, but this isn’t a movie theater,” said Matt. “Charlie, roll G-37. This is some video one of our agents shot while Becky and the others were at the reservation.”

“You spied on Becky at the reservation?” said Sandy. “She told me she was going to put on a play and teach arts and crafts to native children, nothing people should be spying on.”

“Well, like I said, we have her father’s permission, so it’s not spying,” said Matt. “And initially we agreed with you; that’s why we only sent in a team once a week.

“The first month all we got was film of her making macaroni pictures with kids, but take a look at this. You tell me if this is a play.”

(15 minutes later)

As soon as the lights went back on, Sandy got up, ran to a wastebasket and threw up. Matt got up and offered her a handkerchief and walked Sandy with her now unsteady legs back to her seat.

“You made that up… it can’t be true… it didn’t happen,” said a now extremely pale Sandy inbetween pants.

“Sorry to say, it’s all live and in color,” said Matt solemnly. “We really need your help Sandy. You’re the only, uh, unaffected Pot of Sex left. I hate to say it, but rack it up again Charlie. You need to remember this.”

The film flickered back on and the lights went dark again. Sandy could not believe she had to relive this horror show again:

The cameraman was obviously on top of a hill and with the quality of the film he had to be using a very expensive camera as the picture was crystal clear.

Panning down the hill, a figure had slung over their shoulder a body with only the back of its head and limp arms swinging back and forth clearly visible. The person being carried had dark, curly hair and even from this far away angle Sandy instantly knew that it was Becky.

The camera then panned forward and, right near a line of trees, was a totem pole and two old Indians looking at it.

One had what looked like some kind of animal head on his head and the other had a full Indian headdress on, like the one Sandy had seen in those old littering commercials.

Tied to the totem pole was a tall, blonde woman completely nude – Tara, Sandy recognized. She had leather straps going around her forehead to keep her head up and straps lashed to her arms and legs to keep her upright.

Sandy noticed she was wearing a ring, which she thought was odd; as, with her delicate fingers, Tara rarely wore rings, even to formal occasions.

By her closed eyes and the slackened look on her face, it appeared to Sandy as if Tara was either asleep or had been knocked unconscious.

Whatever, when the man in the animal hide began loosening the straps her body fell head first into the waiting grasp of the man in the headdress. He took Tara’s body and dragged it a few feet to a patch of green grass.

The man in the animal hide then motioned the figure carrying Becky forward and pointed toward the pole.

The figure walked over to the pole and unloaded their cargo, holding Becky by the waist. The man in the headdress came over and began helping the figure, who Sandy could now tell was a woman but no one she could identify, to strip Becky and then start binding Becky’s body to the pole.

The camera then swung back to the man in the animal hide, who was circling some kind of scepter over Tara’s head. His mouth was moving but the camera was too far away to pick up the words.

After a couple of minutes, the man in the animal hide went to the other side of the totem pole, and Sandy could see some kind of jug was sitting there. The man went over and took a nearby cup and poured liquid from the jug into it.

He then went back over to where Tara was still laying motionless. He bent down and spread her legs as wide as he could. Sandy shivered as she watched.

He then reached into his pocket and produced a small thing that looked like some kind of an idol (the woodcarvings Becky and Lara had worn looked like that!, Sandy remembered on this second look) and he bent down and slowly worked it into Tara’s vagina and when he got up only the head of the idol was visible sticking out of Tara’s box.

Tara’s body seemed to twitch a bit and her lips moved like she was letting out a soft moan, but it was hard to tell.

The man in the animal hide then bent down onto his knees and even more slowly let the liquid pour from the cup right into Tara’s slit, like he was pouring some coffee down a drain.

As soon as he was finished, Tara’s body reacted to the gross violation of her sex, even though she still appeared asleep. Her body began shuddering, her large breasts slapping back and forth, and her hips began grinding itself into the dirt.

Sandy wasn’t sure if it was trying to work the idol deeper inside her vagina or trying to reject it. Whatever, Tara’s luscious body was fully turned on by something.

Suddenly, Tara’s eyes opened and her head and chest bolted forward. This time, Sandy could here her scream clearly:


And as soon as Tara was done with that lung-filled cry, her eyes closed again and she flopped back down. Her body now showing no sign of life, save for an occasional twitch near her waist.

The man in the animal hide motioned for the unidentified women to come over and pointed to Tara’s prone body. She nodded her head and bent down and gathered Tara in her arms and picked her off the ground.

She put her down a few yards away, and began to put tiny shards of blue cloth on her that Sandy recognized as Tara’s favorite string bikini (“must have gotten her when she was sunning herself,” thought Sandy).

A quick shot back to the totem pole showed the two men looking at Becky, now completely nude except for a ring on her right hand. The man in the animal hide then waved the other man away and began what looked like a dance around the pole, with Becky helplessly sleeping while strapped to it.

It was just a fleeting shot as the camera had in a flash swung to the bottom of the hill and showed a picture of the woman carrying the still limp body of Tara up the hill, back where the camera was.

The film then ended suddenly, the cameraman obviously beating a hasty retreat so the woman would not see him.

If Matt thought having Sandy see the film a second time would calm her down, he was dead wrong. She was now completely hysterical and her long, muscled frame was heaving from sobs as she cried even worse now than when he had found her in the beach chair.

It took several handkerchiefs and a couple of Valiums before Sandy settled down.

Matt took her out of the screening room; too many bad memories, he figured, for her now, and led her into his office. It was brightly colored and had pictures of his pretty, smiling wife and kids doing wholesome family things on the wall.

Matt leaned back in his chair and began kneading his fingers together; for a former alter boy, this was going to be some strong stuff he was going to have to discuss with this very attractive young woman.

He did give himself a second to glance at Sandy’s figure. If I was a girl into girls I’d do her in a second, he thought, before quickly breaking out of his reverie and getting down to business.

“Can you talk Sandy, or do you need more sedatives?” asked Matt.

Sandy wanted to curl up into a ball and never see or hear anyone again, but her sports training kicked in. She was an athlete, a winner, someone who had overcome any physical and mental challenges that stood in her way her entire life.

She took keeping her sanity at the moment as a challenge, a goal to shoot for. With her old competitive juices flowing, Sandy was able to straighten herself up, at least enough to talk, although her legs felt like jelly.

“Yes, I can talk coherently, now,” said Sandy. “What… What was that I just saw and what were they doing to my friends?”

“That’s what we were wondering when we first saw the footage,” said Matt. “At first we thought it might be some kinky sex game they were playing.

“Let’s face it, you guys do get into some wild stuff, and the initial analysis seemed to be correct as our reports indicated Miss Butler and Becky acted normally in their duties after the incident.

“Of course, we didn’t delve too much into their personal life. What was the point, we figured. We knew what team they played for and, frankly, our agents don’t exactly blend in with the natives there. So, all our observations had to be from long distance, limiting our access.

“We discovered things were not exactly normal pretty much like you just did. When the semester began we noticed Becky and her friends all of a sudden dating men and showing no interest in women.”

“The… thing, stuck in Tara’s pussy. I saw it around the neck of Becky and Lara,” said Sandy haltingly, but she gathered herself quickly. “Is that what turned them straight?”

“Not exactly but it is an important symbol,” said Matt. “When we noticed the, uh, dramatic change in Becky’s behavior, we sent the tape you just saw, greatly enhanced, to a professor of Indian History at Oklahoma Tech and frankly, what he reported bowled us over. I mean, this is the 21st century, after all.”

“Please, please tell me,” said Sandy. “These girls are more like sisters to me than friends.”

“Apparently, the image on the necklace and what you saw on the tape was that of Hothar, a Fertility God to their tribe, and what you witnessed was at least part of an ancient ceremony where these women had their bodies sacrificed to Hothar,” said Matt with a “I know it sounds nuts but it’s true” look on his face.

“But why would someone want to do that? I mean, yeah, we like to have a lot of fun, but really, these are very nice good-hearted girls,” said Sandy plaintively.

“I know, I’ve watched you and your friends at Christmas feed the homeless,” said Matt. “But apparently someone does not want you having fun with other girls. Think about it; if these girls now want to be fertile, what’s the most obvious thing they should do?”

“Well, like guys obviously, it helps,” said Sandy. “Oh-h-h-h, I get it. To make these girls straight, those two Indian guys had them sacrificed to a fertility god who, wanting them to bear children, would switch them from lesbians to heterosexuals.”

“Exactly,” said Matt. “They wear the image of Hothar as a sign that they need to be fertile, and thus like guys.”

“So, pardon for me for saying, but this sounds so easy to solve,” said Sandy. “I can just go up to them and yank off the necklace and, voilà, my Pots of Sex are back and ready to lick.”

“We’re not stupid, Sandy; we thought if we could take away the necklace that would be it, too,” said Matt. “We had agents outside the gym shower after Becky’s aerobics class, looking inside her bedroom waiting for her to take it off before she went to sleep but she never, ever, took it off her neck.

“We went back to the professor and he did some more investigating and found out some dire things would occur if we just ripped off the necklace.”

“Like what?” inquired Sandy.

“Like they would instantly drop dead,” said Matt. “Apparently, if the sacrificial ceremony is done properly, your friends mind, body and soul are linked with the spirit of Hothar.

“If an outside force suddenly cut this link, they would cease to exist. That’s why, as part of the spell they are under, they know subconsciously they can never take the necklace off.”

“Well, I guess Becky’s dad must be happy at least,” said Sandy with a note of irony. “The way Becky is going at it, she’ll be spitting out heirs right and left soon enough.”

“Funny you should say that,” said Matt. “When we gave him our initial report he was inclined to keep things as is. Apparently, whoever did this to them had no other agenda but to stop them from being lesbians, they simply used Hothar as a means to turn them straight, otherwise they are pretty much the same girls you knew.

“But like I told you, Becky is the sole heir to this corporation and the higher ups overruled her father. Even though the power is not being used right now, Becky is under the control of an outside authority and we cannot have the future owner of Robinson, Inc. in that situation. Too much of a security risk.”

“What do you mean ‘higher ups?'” asked Sandy, this was all so confusing. “I thought you said Mr. Robinson owned the company.”

“Indeed he does, owns 100 percent of it,” said Matt who then looked around furtively. “But he does answer to people. And I would have to kill you if you knew their names, so lets drop it.”

“OK, fine, it’s dropped,” said Sandy now a bit frightened. “So as I understand it, as a patriotic American, it’s apparently our duty to remake Becky into a dyke. How do I fit into this? You obviously did not bring me here just to freak me out watching a film of my best friends getting sacrificed.”

“When we asked the professor for a way to reverse the spell he said there was no solution,” said Matt. “We then told him to investigate further as having the four girls remain this way was not an option. He drove 180 miles to see a 102-year-old medicine man in the Black Hills who gave him the answer.

“Apparently, the only way to break the spell they are under is to have a trusted member of their tribe, in a moment of passion with them, crush the symbol of Hothar and only then will their true spirit will be freed.”

“One problem there, Matt my boy,” said Sandy. “None of my friends are Indians. Jeez, I think Tara’s mom’s not even an American; I think she’s from Sweden. None of them belong to any tribe.”

“You are wrong Sandy, we checked it out,” said Matt. “A tribe is a gathering of individuals who think of themselves as one people, who consider all among them as blood whether they are or not. As you said, you consider Becky, Tara, Joanie and Lara to be more like sisters to you than friends, and in the depths of their stolen souls you know they feel the same way.

“You are a member of the Pots of Sex tribe Sandy. It is time to liberate your tribeswomen.”

“By having sex with them,” said Sandy.

“Yes,” said Matt.

“Even though they have been converted to be straight, by a god no less,” said Sandy.

“Yes, and to make things more fun, they probably have all been implanted with the thought that having sex with another women is the most disgusting thing possible and under no circumstances would they do it again,” said Matt.

“It’s a challenge; I like those, I’m up for it,” said Sandy. “Hey, what did you mean the girls staying this way was ‘not an option?'”

“Just what I said; the higher ups have ruled that the we cannot have the minds of the heir of Robinson, Inc. and her closest friends under the control of outsiders,” said Matt. “Too risky. Them continuing to be like this is not an option.”

“So, if I don’t manage to get these super-straight girls to have sex with me, and if I don’t get a chance to smash what they think is the thing keeping them alive, what happens then,” asked Sandy with wide eyes.

“I’d rather not think of Plan B,” he said. “Good luck.”

Chapter 4

Sandy felt like her brain was being seared like a broiling salmon.

Her eyes flew open and the upper half of her body sprang up after lying on her back.

She looked quickly around and saw all of her super best friends, Becky, Tara, Lara and Joanie staring down at her with blank expressions, totally nude except for the Indian idols collared around their necks.

Sandy felt like she had no control of her mind as she suddenly shouted out: “Se-x-x-x-x-x!!!!”

She could feel something wedged in her drenched pussy and felt a sudden desire for something long, soft, and real? to be jammed in there as well. Like a guy’s cock? It was a feeling Sandy had never dealt with before.

Once again, she had to bellow: “Sex-x-x-x-x-x!!!” as she felt her sexual desires being reformed, her preferences being reshuffled like cards in a deck and she felt like a complete outsider in her own head, as her lifestyle choices were being rewired.

“Shit, they got me; all those frat boys I blew off will get their shot now,” thought Sandy as a wave of relaxation washed over her. Her eyes closed and her body slowly went back down as she resumed her slumber, firm in the knowledge she was no longer a lesbian.

Sandy bolted upright and could feel her body covered in sweat and shaking underneath the bed sheets.

She quickly turned on the lamp on her nightstand.

Sandy took a huge gulp of air as her head whirled back and forth, confirming she was in the bedroom of her college dormitory room, and not lying on the ground in a remote part of an Indian reservation in Arizona.

She had not suffered the fate of her lesbian friends, being sacrificed to the fertility god Hothar and thus turned into a heterosexual.

Sandy was still in a semi-panic as she looked over at the posters on her far wall. They featured her heroes, the U.S. women’s soccer team and the U.S. Olympic softball team.

“Would I like to have sex with Mia Hamm,” said Sandy to herself. “Yep.”

“How would I feel if Jennie Finch showed up at my door, stripped naked, and threw me on the bed and began eating me out? Nope, I definitely would not stop her.

“Thank goodness. Whew! I’m still into girls. It was just a dream.”

Sandy gave a sigh of relief but realized the extremely vivid dream meant something.

It showed how completely terrified she was of ending up being converted into a straight girl, and how she needed to break the spell her friends were under and return them to their natural lesbian state.

From what Sandy had been told, she had to track each of the girls down, somehow make them have sex with her, and then smash the idol of Hothar they all wore around their necks to liberate them.

“I can’t take this anymore,” she said to herself. “I’ve got to rescue my Pots of Sex soon.”

As it turned out, her fellow Pots would lend her an unwanted helping hand.

Sandy slowly got back into the swing of college life while she formulated a plan.

She silently seethed when she had classes with Todd Hunter, knowing he was bonking Tara while deep in her heart she knew Tara had to be crying out for a woman’s touch.

Since she was for the moment basically friendless, after class was done Sandy usually took a blanket and laid it down on the grass that surrounded the main courtyard and did some studying.

Sandy had never been the loner type, she liked people and at least here she would be surrounded by activity. This day was unusually warm and she was in denim shorts and a blue halter-top.

As she was engrossed in a metaphysics text, she saw a shadow come over her.

When she looked up, she saw a cute teenager with short, dirty blonde hair wearing low-cut overalls over a thin white t-shirt that showed some cleavage, and battered sneakers.

Sandy instantly knew who it was; Tiffany Montgomery, a freshman field hockey player. All the incoming freshmen had missed out on the trip to Australia but Sandy knew her since she had been her host in the spring on her recruiting visit.

Tiffany had gone to a Christian school in some small town in Canada and Sandy found her very sweet, and very attractive, although far too wide-eyed and innocent to think about sexually.

She must be a heck of a player Sandy thought, as when Tiffany had committed to come here, the coach had been very excited.

“Hey Tiff, haven’t seen you in a while,” said Sandy brightly as she put down her book. “How’s everything?”

“Oh, OK I guess,” said Tiffany a bit nervously as she stared down at Sandy. “Not as exciting as Australia I’m sure but sure different than Moose Jaw.”

“Yeah, bummer the freshmen couldn’t come but I heard coach talking that in a couple years they might go to England, that will be cool,” said Sandy.

“Yeah, I guess, but it won’t be the same,” said Tiffany who suddenly shook her head back and forth, like awoke from a dream. “Uh, can I sit down and talk with you Sandy? We were told at orientation that if we had a problem to seek out one of the team captains; and I think you are really the one to talk to.”

“Sure, sit down Tiff, I’m here for you,” said Sandy as she sat up and made room for Tiffany on the blanket. She really did like Tiffany and wanted to help her with whatever problem she had, and it was nice for once to have someone to talk to outside of mysterious security agents.

Tiffany sat down with a nervous look and nibbled on a fingernail for a bit.

“Tiff, remember, we’re teammates now,” said Sandy. “You’ll learn once we begin practice that us field hockey players consider ourselves to be a sisterhood. Don’t be nervous. As far as I’m concerned, you are my little sister. Tell your Big Sis Sandy what the problem is. We’re family now.”

Tiffany took a deep breath and then began talking:

“Well, being away from home and stuff for the first time, I didn’t know what to expect,” said Tiffany in a halting tone that slowly got surer of itself. “Like, I figured I’d meet some nice boy and get a steady boyfriend and have fun, you know.

“But every time a boy has asked me out I’ve said no. I don’t know why, but for some reason none of them have interested me, and some of them have been pretty cute.

“What has interested me are weird things. Like after gym class, I’ve sat in the girls locker room, for like hours, just looking, not doing anything but just looking at the girls as they walk into and out of the showers. I’ve been showering four times a day there. Hospitals wish they were as clean as me.

“And I’m taking an introduction to acting class as an elective, and all these really pretty girls who want to become actresses are in it. I’ve found myself showing up an hour early to class just so I can watch them all walk down the steps. I see them bounce to their seats.

“Even though my whole life I’ve known I want to be a physical education teacher, I find myself wanting to switch to being a drama major just so I can be in more classes with the pretty girls.

“What’s it all mean Sandy? You’re so much more experienced and worldly than me. Am I nuts?”

Sandy gave a little smile. Tiffany really was a complete innocent, and hot as hell and cute as could be. Time to take her out of her misery, Sandy decided, and let her in on all the fun.

“I think I know your problem, well, not really a problem, more of a happy circumstance, to me,” said Sandy. “Let me try a little experiment to see if I guessed right. As a team captain, I am ordering you not to move a muscle while I do this.”

Sandy reached over and cradled Tiffany’s soft, creamy white face and gave her the best French-kiss she could muster. She rolled her tongue deep into Tiffany’s mouth, bathing it in her juices as far and wide as she could reach.

She at first felt a quick tug backward as Tiffany recoiled a bit at the kiss but that quickly stopped, and Tiffany’s head remained still as Sandy took her tongue out for a moment and then plunged it back in for a second helping of Tiffany’s mouth.

Sandy knew some people around the courtyard were probably staring at her kiss another girl but she didn’t care. Guys and girls made out all the time around here; if they could do it, she could too.

As Sandy released her hold on Tiffany’s face, she could see her target had a stunned look on her face. Whether she was stunned by a sudden revelation or shocked that someone she looked up to could take advantage of her like that, Sandy was not sure of.

“Tell me Tiff, did you like that?” asked Sandy.

“Yes,” said Tiffany in a soft whisper.

‘Would you like me to kiss you some more?” said Sandy.

“Yes….please,” said Tiffany.

“Kiss you a lot?”

“Yes…a lot more, but not here, more private.”

“I can arrange that Tiff,” said Sandy slyly. “You do realize Tiffany this means you are a lesbian. I am going to take you up to my room now and we will be having lesbian sex. Just want to make sure you went in with your eyes, as well as your legs, wide open.”

“Yeah, I kind of knew it, just needed to hear it from someone I really respect,” said Tiffany. “To be honest, I’ve been having dreams, really erotic dreams, about you since my visit.

“The biggest field hockey programs in the country wanted me but the thought of not seeing you again was something I couldn’t deal with, so I surprised everyone and signed here.

“And ever since I arrived on campus, knowing I would soon be playing with you every day, the dreams have been coming every night.

“I can’t go to sleep without masturbating to having sex with you. I’m sort of relieved to be honest. If you weren’t into girls too, I’d burst from frustration.”

“No bursting now Tiff, unless you burst on my face,” said Sandy.

The next couple days Sandy spent with her nose either buried in a book or buried in Tiffany’s ripe young pussy. It proved a great distraction from her problem at hand.

The freshman had a seemingly limitless appetite for girl-girl sex and was up for anything the far more experienced Sandy wanted to get into. The word ‘no’ apparently was not in her sexual vocabulary.

Sandy was aimlessly pumping three fingers into Tiffany’s slit after coming down from her fourth orgasm of the current sex session as they lay next to each other in bed.

Tiffany suddenly rolled her body to face Sandy and brushed Sandy’s hand away from her pussy, the first time Tiffany had ever done anything to limit the amount of sex she received.

“Uh Sandy , there is one more thing I have to tell you and I finally feel comfortable enough to do it,” said Tiffany with downcast eyes, her face reddening. “In the dreams I have about you, we were having sex but also you like are ordering me about in a gruff manner.

“And I’m wearing a dog collar and I keep calling you Mistress and besides the usual sex stuff I like lick your toes and bury my nose in your buttcrack, and then you spank me and tell me what a bad, bad slave I am.

“And at that the point in my dream is when I wake up and come, hard. Every time.”

“A lesbian submissive!, wow,” thought Sandy. “It’s about time something went my way.”

“Don’t worry, Mistress Sandy will take care of things,” said Sandy, instantly getting into her role playing. ” From now on, when we are alone you will refer to me as Mistress and do my bidding. I will call you “slave tiff” and whenever you walk into my room you will automatically take off all your clothes and put on a dog collar and leash that I will buy you, as the slut slave that you are.”

“Yes, yes, my Mistress,” gasped Tiffany as she closed her eyes and her body shuddered as a major orgasm began rippling through her.

“You will serve me slave tiff as my personal pleasure slave,” continued Sandy. “My pussy’s happiness will be the most important thing in your life outside of school, and of course the team.”

“Yes, Mistress, I obey,” said Tiffany with delight in her voice, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She then let out a primeval scream and Sandy’s sheets were soon soaked.

Now that her sex life was taken care of with slave tiff, Sandy hoped she could now concentrate on a plan to save her friends.

First of all, she had to get in contact with them, except for the brief encounter with Lara in the lab, she had not talked to any of them since she had come back to school.

As she walked into her room at the end of a day of classes, that problem was quickly solved.

Sitting on the edge of her bed were Lara and Becky. On the beanbag seat was Joanie, and Tara sat on the desk chair. All were in fashionable mini-skirts with high-collared blouses. What Sandy knew to be a woodcarving of the fertility god Hothar dangling off their respective bosoms.

“Oh … hey fellow Pots,” said Sandy as she put her books down on the desk. “Great to see all of you.”

“C’mon Sandy, you know why we’re here,” said Becky.

“Yeah, it’s time Sandy,” said Joanie. “Let’s be honest, you knew this day was coming.”

Sandy’s mind whirled in panic. She was bigger and stronger than any of the girls; but could she take on all four at the same time if she had to fight her way out of the room before they could kidnap her and ship her to Arizona to be de-lesbianized.

“You mean you’re not here to greet me on my triumphant return from the Land Down Under,” said Sandy a bit nervously.

“You’ve been back for over a week, little too late for greetings,” said Tara. “That problem will be solved, right now.”

“I have a problem?,” said Sandy with wide eyes. She was in sheer terror, the moment she had been dreading was here and she had no clue what to do.

“Do you want us to actually say it; it’s much easier if you just submit voluntarily and let us do to you what needs to be done,” said Lara, pushing her granny glasses up a bit on her nose.

“Submit to what?” said Sandy as she felt like was she was about to pass out. Why had she told Matt to hold off the SWAT team, that she could handle this, she was so far over her head.

“Don’t play games Sandy, Todd told me he saw you and told you about us,” said Tara.

“The Women’s Alliance office called me and said you were there looking for me,” said Joanie.

“I could see you peeking in from the reflection in the mirror when you saw my airtight bit of fun,” said Becky.

“We were going to go out and then as soon as you found out I had a boyfriend you turned tail and ran,” said Lara.

“Face it Sandy, as soon as you found out we were now into guys you wanted no part of us,” said Tara. “You’re a heterophobe, if that’s a word; you are prejudiced against straight girls.”

“We were your best friends and simply because we choose not to have sex with other women now you cut us off like that,” said Joanie with a bit of hurt in her voice. “You need to submit to some treatment.”

“You treated me like I had some heterosexual disease,” cried Lara. “You made me feel so dirty for liking Tim.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a major problem Sandy,” said Becky. “In the real world, lots of people are straight, hate to break the news to you. But you are a fellow Pot of Sex and we love you and are here for you.”

“That’s right,” said Joanie as she got up and put her hand on Sandy’s shoulder. “That’s why we decided on this little intervention. We’re concerned that when you graduate college you won’t be able to adjust to the outside world. The real world is not like a field hockey team girlfriend.”

Sandy was speechless. They thought SHE had a problem. She wasn’t the one who had been knocked out and had ceremonial juice poured into their pussy.

But she remembered what Matt had said. Despite the gruesome sacrifice ceremony their bodies had gone through to turn them straight, which they wouldn’t remember, they basically were the same people.

All they knew was that one of their closest friends did not want to have anything to do with them anymore, and they were hurt.

It was actually kind of sweet, Sandy decided. And suddenly an idea bloomed in her head. A way to accomplish her mission and not find out what the dreaded “Plan B” was. I wasn’t academic all-league for nothing, after all, she thought.

Chapter 5

Tara and Becky laid in their beach chairs in their string bikinis, soaking up the desert sun on a break from their chores on the Indian reservation. Tara’s lean, blonde form shimmered in the sun while Becky’s shorter, curvier, larger chested body soaked up badly needed color to her white skin.

The group had been having a great time at the reservation, as far as they were concerned, and both girls were relaxed and in a playful mood.

“Hey, Beck, check out that guy,” said Tara, pointed to a young, muscled, shirtless Indian man in his early 20s who looked like he had come off some construction duty. “He can nail me with his tomahawk, anytime.”

“Yeah, he’s a hottie,” said Becky as she moved her sunglasses down to get a good look at his firm butt as he began walking out of their line of vision. “How come like, no guy at our school can turn us on like these Indian guys.”

“Tell me about it,” said Tara. “Never got a quiver down below from any guy back home and, wow, plenty of hunks I wouldn’t mind banging here. And you know I don’t go that way.”

“Hey, maybe it’s the desert air, you know me, totally into chicks just like you, but the last couple of days I’ve had a hankering for some man-meat,” said Becky. “You’ve heard of lesbian vacations, well, I might take a brief vacation from being a lesbian. At least for a night or two.”

“Must be the air, because I was like all over the squaws here to begin with and last couple of days I’ve been very hungry for sausage, when I usually like to eat fish,” said Tara.

Both young women laughed uproariously at Tara’s joke.

“Well, something’s up; Dr. Oxmis left Lara and is living with the Medicine Man now,” said Becky. “And they were like totally into each other.”

“Yeah, I saw Lara with one of the guys she works with making out last night at the bar, so I guess she’s over it, and maybe it’s over for her being a lesbian,” Tara said as she flipped over on her back. “Beck, put some more cocoa butter on my back, will ya please.”

Becky grabbed the bottle of sun tan lotion and began slowly massaging it into Tara’s back.

“You’re losing it Tara,” said Becky with a smile after she was done. “I just rubbed your back for over a minute and never got turned on.”

“Maybe it’ a good thing I don’t hate guys like Joanie, if I’m losing my lesbian touch I might have to resort to dating men,” said Tara with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, as far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a lesbian’s lesbian,” said Becky as she slid over and gave Tara a peck on the cheek. Becky sat back in her chair and for an instant got a sour look on her face.

Her and Tara were strictly friends but Tara was absolutely gorgeous and she had not felt a thing kissing the beautiful blonde.

Before Becky had more time to think about the pallid kiss, a pretty young Indian woman in a short dress came up to them.

“Hey Come Many Feathers, what’s up girl, haven’t seen you in a while,” said Tara brightly.

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I came looking for you,” she said. “I was hoping we could, uh, continue our meetings on Anglo-Indian relations like we had been doing.”

“Yeah, I did like them at the time, sorry, but I just haven’t been in the mood lately,” said Tara. “A couple of my projects are coming to a head. Maybe it’s stress. I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Come Many Feathers who did have a look of disappoint on her face. “Hey, what are you guys wearing there.”

Come Many Feathers pointed to the Indian idol laying on each of their chest (in Becky’s case, it hung suspended in mid-air below her large bosoms) held by a thin leather necklace.

“Not sure really, Lara’s more into the Indian lore stuff, but I think it’s pretty,” said Becky as she grasped the idol and pulled it up and over her breasts and twirled it in her hand. “All of the girls who came here for the summer, me, Tara, Lara, Joanie, got one. I guess it’s a thank-you for the work we’ve done.”

“A big thank you from – who knows – as we all got them when we had to be wasted,” said Tara with a laugh. “Because none of us remember getting them. But I love it. I’m never taking it off. Even when I’m naked.”

Come Many Feathers scrunched her face for a second.

“Speaking of getting naked,” she said. “Uh, you free tonight?”

“Nah, like I said, sorry,” said Tara. “But you’ll be the first to know when my tongue is back to speed.”

Come Many Feathers turned and walked away from the pair. Tara and Becky could not see the tear trickling down the Indian lass’s cheek.

Sandy took a deep breath and plunged into the role her fellow Pots of Sex, who were now surrounding her in her dorm room, had somehow designated for her: the angry lesbian upset because her old dyke friends were now straight.

It was the only way to save them from a permanent life of heterosexuality, she thought.

“How could you!” wailed Sandy as her hands covered her face. “After all, we’re lesbians. We have sex with other women. That’s what lesbians do; we screw chicks.”

“Sandy, Sandy, it’s not like that at all,” said Joanie as she rushed over and began patting Sandy on the back. “We love you. We all love you. We would never hurt you.”

“Sit down Sandy, we’ll explain, I guess it is a bit shocking,” said Lara as she guided Sandy to the edge of her bed.

“A bit shocking?,” said Sandy. “All my Pots of Sex are now Sexpots, just regular everyday, straight girls chasing guys. Yuck. I go away for the summer and you all turn on me. You betrayed me. How do you expect me to feel!”

Sandy thought she gave a pretty good performance for a physical education major. She thought it was funny that “they” were going to explains things to “her,” when in reality she knew much more than them about why they liked guys all of a sudden.

“Look,” said Tara as she looked earnestly into Sandy’s eyes. “When we went to work on the reservation, it opened our eyes to some things. We experienced some different, um, viewpoints, ideas during our time there.”

“Yeah,” said Joanie. “I mean, this a time in people’s lives they like to experiment. You know all the girls we’ve had sex with who said they were just experimenting, that they really weren’t that way….”

“C’mon you’ve played our game “Bag the Innocent” plenty of times with us,” said Lara. “You know how straight girls give eating pussy a try, that’s all we’re doing, in reverse.”

“Of course I know the game, I broke your three-game winning streak Lara last time we did it,” said Sandy. “We go to a straight bar and first one who can talk a girl into leaving the bar with them instead of their boyfriend wins.

“But that’s fun, talking straight girls into having sex with women instead of guys. That’s the way it should be. The opposite is just ….I can’t even think about, my pretty Pots with those…things.”

“That’s the point Sandy,” said Tara. “You have to let go of all the hate you have for men, and the women who consort with them. It’s just not healthy.”

Don’t get emotional, Sandy thought, next step.

“Well, I’ll make a bet with you all,” said Sandy. “Not bragging, but I’ve never not satisfied a girl who’s hopped into a bed with me. I deserve a chance to reconvert you.”

“Reconvert? It doesn’t work that way Sandy,” said Becky.

“Yes it can!” cried out Sandy as she jumped up. “C’mon. All of you. Right here, right now. Strip and get in my bed. I’ll have sex with all of you now. I’ll show you all the fun having sex with a girl can be. Remember.”

“And what if you fail to renew our love of making love to women?” asked Becky.

“Then you win, we’re best friends, we’ll hang out together, like in the old days,” said Sandy.” And I will never ever be anything but gracious and nice to all the boys you date.”

“It won’t work, it really won’t, Sandy, believe me” said Becky. “You don’t stand a chance.”

Sandy went up to the much smaller girl, who due to her father’s mysterious business might not be alive shortly if it didn’t work, and laid a deep French kiss on her.

“Try me,” said Sandy.

The four ex-lesbians looked at each other.

“Your on sister,” said Tara who immediately began unbuttoning her blouse, soon followed by the three other girls.

Sandy went to the bathroom briefly to freshen up and think a bit.

Her plan was going perfectly, except she now had to figure out how to carnally satisfy four extremely sexually charged women at the same time, whom a god had brainwashed into hating girl-on-girl sex.

When she walked back into the room, she noticed there were now FIVE naked women standing there, although only four of them had an Indian idol bouncing on their chest.

“Uh, Sandy, this girl here says she is, like, your slave,” said Joanie who pointed to the nude, small, well-built blonde teen standing near the door.

“And I swear we did not tell her to take her clothes off,’ said Lara. “We haven’t gone back to being lesbians. She just came in, threw her clothes off, put on a dog collar that was sitting here and asked where her mistress was.”

“Everything is fine ladies. Let me introduce you to “slave tiff,” and I am indeed her mistress,” said Sandy, quickly reformulating her plan, for the better she hoped, with the unexpected arrival of Tiffany. “She is under standing orders to be naked as soon as she comes in my room and put on her collar to signify her complete obedience to me.”

“Sandy, you have really gone off the deep end now,” said Joanie. “You know how I am totally into human rights, and to take an innocent girl like this and brainwash her to be your sex slave, is just plain wrong.”

Sandy barely was able to stifle a smirk.

Even though she knew they had no clue, it was kind of funny to be lectured about how wrong it was to make someone a brainwashed sex slave BY a brainwashed sex slave.

“Chill girls, ‘slave tiff’ is on the field hockey team with me and loves being my submissive sex pet,” said Sandy. “Your Mistress gives you permission to speak freely to my friends here about your condition, slave.”

“Slave tiff serves Mistress Sandy with great pleasure,” said Tiffany in a clipped monotone. “Slave tiff does so voluntarily, purely for the joy of worshipping mistress’s magnificent pussy – and all the incredible sex that results.”

“Hey congratulations Sandy, if a hot blonde wanted to be my slave, back in the day, I’d be happy as a lark,” said Tara.

That day will come again, thought Sandy.

“Anyhow, slave tiff will help me nicely with my bet,” said Sandy. “She will be my fluffer. Tara and Lara, hop on the bed. I’ll get some blankets for the floor and slave tiff will take care of Joanie and Becky until I’m ready.”

Sandy then grabbed Tiffany into a corner for a quick strategy session.

“Look tiff, I can’t tell you why but it is really important we turn these girls on,” said Sandy in a hushed tone. “These girls really like having sex with men so be really masculine in your lovemaking with them. Act just like a man would.”

“Well, how am I suppose to do that,” asked Tiffany plaintively. “I’ve never had sex with a man. Tell me what to do Mistress.”

Sandy was a bit unsure herself since she was not exactly an expert on how women had sex with men either.

“OK, you’ve had sex with Patty the butch dyke on our team like everyone else, right?” said Sandy as Tiffany nodded yes. “We’ll, pretend your Patty and beat the hell out of these girls pussies. I’ll get you some help.”

Sandy rummaged through her box of toys and found her state-of-the-art dildo and strapped it on and gave a double-sided dildo to Tiffany, figuring she needed the extra help.

Hothar wants them to get stuffed with cock, me and slave tiff will jam them with it, thought Sandy.

Sandy slithered inbetween Tara and Lara who were on the bed. Sandy saw Tiffany being guided to the floor in front of the bed by Joanie and Lara.

She began French kissing Tara while with her hand she reached back and began playing with Lara’s perky breasts. Both bodies lay limp, obviously not into the foreplay.

Sandy just upped the pace, her kisses were deeper and harder, like a man, and Tara began to return some tongue back with some passion.

Sandy’s other hand began to play with Tara’s pink-tinged clit while her other hand began to mash Lara’s breasts a bit more harshly.

“Sex like a man Sandy, remember they like sex with a man,” Sandy said to herself.

Tara’s breathing began to get a bit shallow and when she emitted a slight moan. Sandy got the confidence to start pounding her pussy with the dildo.

When Sandy first entered Tara’s pussy she was pleased how easily it slid in, her pussy obviously well-lubed already. She began her pumping in and out routine she had done to many women over the years.

She had also intensified her assault on Lara’s breasts, pinching the nipples at this point and when she heard Lara make a slow gasp Sandy knew she was on the right track with her as well.

Sandy had not picked the pair haphazardly. Sandy was a big girl and the petite Lara would be unable to see over her body at Tara and see what Sandy was doing to her.

Sandy began upping the tempo as she drilled Tara’s soft pussy with the strap-on, much rougher than normal but more like a man. At least she hoped so; Sandy had never had sex with a man so she had no personal experience to work with.

“Not bad, not bad at all,” Tara said in a low moan as she began clawing at her own breasts – and Sandy new it was time to strike.

The dildo was now plunging deep into Tara’s box and Sandy with her free hand was now rubbing Tara’s clit. Tara was pinching her own nipples.

Sandy kept pumping but her hand left Tara’s clit and slowly made its way upward. Tara’s head was off the pillow as she looked at her breasts and Sandy in one, smooth motion grabbed the idol bouncing nicely on her chest and lifted it over Tara’s head.

“Hey,” Tara said but Sandy immediately turned her body, twisting the dildo inside Tara that left Tara a bit constricted to move and fight back. With all her might, Sandy smashed the idol against the headboard of her bed and it immediately crumbled into pieces.

“No, Sandy,” Tara gasped before she closed her eyes and passed out.

“What was that?” said Lara, her breathing now quite shallow as she was feeling her own sexual excitement, even though it was a girl doing it and she knew that didn’t do anything for her anymore.

“That was Tara telling me it was your turn,” said Sandy as she rolled over and began positioning her dildo for what Sandy could see was Lara’s slickening pussy.

Sandy began Frenching Lara and with her now free hand began working its way to her butt. “Men love anal, and these girls love what men love; Hothar has to be a male god,” thought Sandy, who when Lara began mewling her pleasure as her finger started to penetrate Lara’s cute buttcrack, knew she was on the right track.

Sandy was now assaulting Lara three ways and even the straightest straight girl could not survive this amount of sex without getting aroused.

Lara began drooling and making inarticulate noises. Sandy just had to get them worked up before being able to grab the idol without killing them but she thought she had a shot to give Lara an orgasm.

When Sandy had a couple fingers now probing Lara’s ass she knew she had her as she could feel Lara about to come.

Sandy figured Lara’s nipples must be quite tender at this point and she stopped kissing her and moved down and began lapping at the nipples on her pert breast.

That was it. Lara gave a brief shout and her back arched. Sandy was thrilled she had gotten an enslaved straight girl to cum but remembered her duty and quickly pulled the necklace off of a helpless Lara and then smashed it to pieces against the wall.

“What have you done?” cried Lara before she slipped into unconsciousness as well.

Two down, two to go, thought Sandy.

Sandy maneuvered herself between the two unconscious women and crawled to the bottom of the bed to see how her “fluffer” was doing with Becky and Joanie, probably the strongest-willed of the foursome and frankly Sandy wasn’t sure she could sex them up like the more malleable Tara and Lara.

As Sandy peered down, they didn’t seem strong-willed – more like strongly turned on.

Tiffany was swinging the double-sided dildo with authority from one pussy to the other, each girl getting a savaging of her slit. Tiffany was also licking Joanie’s rock-hard nipples while her other hand caressed Becky’s clit with gentle rubs.

“Way to go slave tiff, no man could give them a better banging,” thought Sandy.

By the moans and gurgles coming from the objects of Tiffany’s ministrations, Sandy could tell they were about as aroused as their entranced minds could be by a woman.

Sandy tapped slave tiff on the shoulder and they effortlessly changed positions. Sandy swung the dildo right into Joanie’s box and then a hard left into Becky’s a couple of times and made sure they both knew she, their tribeswoman, was giving them sexual pleasure now.

She nibbled a bit at Joanie’s soft, heavy breasts and then knew it was time for the big finish.

She dropped the dildo and lifted Becky’s head up enough to snatch the idol necklace over her head before she had time to react

Sandy flipped it up to Tiffany and told her, “Take this and smash it against something, right now!”

Tiffany stared at her for a second, not in disobedience but more in wonder what this was about. There were two sleeping women on the bed with her and bits of broken clay strewn about. All in all a bit much for a girl from Moose Jaw to take.

Tiffany took the necklace just as Sandy felt herself being dragged down to the floor. Joanie had seen what had happened and joined Becky in trying to fight Sandy for the idol.

Sandy was able to fight them off enough as the desperately clawed at her so they couldn’t stand up and get to Tiffany at the moment.

“Now!!!. Your Mistress commands!! Now slave tiff!!!” screamed a desperate Sandy as Joanie and Becky displayed great passion in their assault as they pulled at her legs down and tried to crawl over her and get to Tiffany. Even though an athlete, Sandy knew she could not hold them off for much longer.

Tiffany’s slave conditioning kicked in. If she was Sandy’s slave, she could not question her orders – but she was going to have a heck of a lot questions when this was over.

Tiffany went to Sandy’s shoe rack, grabbed one of her stiletto heels and smashed the idol.

Becky immediately grabbed her head. “You fool, you have no idea,” shouted Becky as she toppled to the floor as she was knocked out.

Joanie stared at Becky’s nude, slumbering body and Sandy went for it. She jumped on top of Joanie and scooped the necklace off her head.

Joanie screamed: “No!, No! Let me explain!”

But Sandy wasn’t listening as she ran to the door and smashed the idol on it. By the time she turned around, Joanie was slumped on the floor unconscious.

Sandy took a deep breath and she slowly slid her exhausted body down the door until she was on the floor.

Sandy laughed a bit when she looked at where she had ended up.

She was sitting Indian style.

Sandy told Tiffany it had all been a sex game (who would believe the truth? I’m not sure I do, thought Sandy) and told her that Mistress was very pleased with her, which made Tiffany happy and, after she orgasmed and stopped rolling on the floor, Tiffany was sent on her way.

Sandy then called Matt to tell him of the latest developments. He was grateful as he said a team, he wouldn’t tell her what kind of team, was 48 hours away from swinging into action.

Sandy then cleaned up a bit and put on a t-shirt and shorts, there was enough naked girlflesh in her room as it was.

Although Tara had been the first to be liberated, it was Lara who came too first.

As she slowly got up, she held her head in her hands and with half-lidded eyes looked over at Sandy, who was sitting in the beanbag chair eating some pretzels, waiting for her restored friends to wake up.

“What the…what the heck happened?” asked Lara.

“I won my bet,” said Sandy with a big grin on her face.

Lara looked down at her chest, which was now as naked as the rest of her body.

“You..you didn’t,” said Lara in a disbelieving voice.

“Yes, I did,” said Sandy as she took a bite of a pretzel. “Have some Lara. You’ve been through a lot. It’ll keep your strength up.”

“Are you some psycho lesbian now Sandy, I thought we were friends,” said Lara as she got up slowly and tried to find her clothes. “How could you do this to us? We’re your Pots of Sex.”

They still don’t get it, thought Sandy.

“It is because I am a fellow Pot of Sex that I did this,” said Sandy as she got up and helped Lara put her bra back on. “I’ll explain when everyone is awake what I did. But you’re free Lara. You’re all free now.”

“Yeah free, seeing all these naked unconscious girls laying around reminds of what I used to feel,” said Lara as she surveyed the scene. “I’m already turned on and I’m back to being a lesbian for only a couple minutes.”

Sandy’s eyes bugged out. “You know?”

“Know what? That the idol of Hothar is what kept me and the rest of the girls heterosexual and now that our sister Pot smashed it we are all back to being into girls,” said Lara as she laced her boots. “Sure. Think we’re stupid. And now you trying to be Super Lesbian with your little sidekick slave tiff has screwed it all up.”

Sandy plopped down on the beanbag dumbfounded.

“Maybe we should wait until everyone else wakes up,” said Lara as she came up to Sandy and grabbed some pretzels out of her bag. “And we can explain thing to YOU.”

Tara and Becky had ice bags on their heads as the four reconverted lesbians sat around the befuddled Sandy, still in her beanbag chair, although she had lost her appetite.

“Sandy, what the heck did you think you were doing?” said Joanie. “I screamed at you at the top of my lungs that I could explain it all, before you smashed my Hothar and ended my chance to have a real boyfriend like other girls.”

“Look, I saw this video, Becky’s dad’s security crew took it,” said Sandy. “You guys had your bodies sacrificed to the fertility god Hothar is this really awful ceremony and you poor girls were unknowingly changed into heterosexuals. I just made what went wrong, right again.”

“Well, your intentions were good Sandy, oww,” sighed Tara with a pained expression as she pressed the ice bag harder onto her blonde hair.

“What we had here ladies, was a failure to communicate,” said Becky. “My dad’s security forces showed you Sandy just a snapshot, the beginning of the adventure we made this summer; and we made the mistake of not being totally upfront with you when we had the chance.

“And boy have we paid for it. Who knew a field hockey player just back from Australia would have the knowledge and resources to take on a powerful Indian god and defeat it.”

“We would have told you the complete truth Sandy but honestly we didn’t think you would believe it,” said Lara. “I’m the intellectual one and if I was in your spot I wouldn’t.”

“OK, I know what I think the truth is,” said Sandy. “Becky, you’re the storyteller in the group. You tell me what your version of truth is.”

Becky put her ice bag down with a groan. Sandy had picked her not just because of her drama background but because she looked the most physically affected by the removal of the idol and thus the sudden draining of a desire to sleep with men from her mind.

If anyone was wiped totally clean of its influence, it was she.

“The beginning part you’re dead on, probably know more than us about the process because we were told we really didn’t want to know,” said Becky in measured tones. “The people responsible for it we eventually found out were the chief of the reservation, who hated the fact his daughter loved licking Tara’s carpet, and the medicine man.

“Well, they must have thought we were idiots. Are we party girls? Yes. Stupid? No. All of a sudden we all start liking guys, and we did let it slide for a while, but when we caught Joanie, the ultimate man-hating lesbian, humping one of the warriors behind our rooms, we all got to thinking.

“It was all too much of a coincidence. We knew someone had been messing with our heads and this idol bouncing off our boobs, which we all loved wearing, maybe a bit too much, and had no freaking idea how it got there, had to be part of it.

“Anyhow, Tara’s buddy Come Many Feathers, the chief’s daughter, then tells us she researched what we were wearing and discovered it was the fertility god Hothar so it starts making sense to us. She said only the medicine man would be able to create something like what we were wearing.

“That flipped Lara out; she started screaming he had stolen her girlfriend and turned her into his robot. We all then thought like you do now: Who the hell do they think they are trying to turn us sex-loving lesbians into straight girls!

“We were all riled up so we each grabbed a club from Becky’s golf bag and headed over to the medicine man’s house to beat him up.

“Of course when we get there Joanie the pacifist talks us out of belting him, but man, you should have seen the steam coming out of Tara’s ears as she yelled at the old guy and swung that club around, smashing all kinds of things.

“She scared the bejeebers out of him, heck, WE were a bit afraid of Tara at that point. He confessed to everything he did to us and Dr. Oxmis and promised if we came back the next day he would reverse the process and make us lesbians again and make Miriam, like a human being.”

“Sounds good ladies, I’m proud of my Pots, Indian mysticism is no match for the Pots of Sex, minus one yet,” said Sandy. “So where did it go wrong?”

“That’s the point Sandy, it didn’t go wrong at all,” said Lara.

“As I was saying,” continued Becky. “Everybody was excited at having won the battle and in 24 hours we would all be back to being carpet munchers. But at dinner Tara began talking:

“She said she had received a ton of sex from other girls in her life, and she of course had loved every bit of it; but the feelings she had been having for men the past few days were new and different and she wouldn’t mind keeping straight a little while longer just to try it. See what all the fuss was about.

“And then Lara said it would be an interesting experiment for her, to see how heterosexual women operate and then even Joanie said she knew it was wrong to hate men when she had never had any real interaction with them, so she was up for staying het for a bit as well, and I said I was in too, might be a kick, to make it unanimous.

“We all decided to keep straight and date guys until the end of the fall semester and then see what everyone wanted to do. Of course, the experiment is over now after only a month, thanks to your “saving” of us.”

“The only sucky part was going to be that you Sandy could not join us in our little experiment into the big world of girls who actually like guys,” said Lara.

“Well, you girls don’t know it, but the medicine man has control of your minds,” said Sandy. “It’s really dangerous ladies. He can if he wants turn you into his puppets and make you do bad things against your will.”

“Yeah, that might have been his original plan when we cornered him, let us turn gay again and think we are cured but knowing he could control us at any time,” said Tara, the ice bag still welded to the top of her head.

“But my Come Many Feathers came through again and did some quick research on it and made him the next day, after we shocked the heck out of him and said we wanted to stay straight, give us the personal idol he kept for each of us. Since we now have it in our possession, no one can control us.”

Sandy now felt horrible about what she had done. If only she had known.

“Wish you had told someone, anyone, about all of this because if I didn’t do what I just did, in 48 hours a hit team from Becky’s dad’s company was coming in to take care of all four of you, because they thought you still were controlled by the Indians,” said Sandy.

The girls all had shocked expressions on their face.

“What DOES you dad’s company do Becky?” asked Joanie.

“I can’t say, if you knew they’d kill you,” said Becky as the others stared at her. “I mean it. My dad’s told me of people who were thought to have become “security risks” who disappeared and became non-persons.

“I have nothing to do with the company, nor will I ever, but someday I will become the official owner of it. If they thought someone did control my head I can see those paranoid types swooping in and taking care of me and my best friends, permanently.”

“So the bottom line is that Sandy really did save us,” said Joanie. “She might have returned us to lesbians, which we didn’t want at the moment, but I’ll take being a dyke over being in some secret prison camp like in “The Prisoner” or dead, which is what we’d probably be if she wasn’t so caring and brave to break Hothar’s hold on us.”

“Sandy, you’re our savior, we love you still,” cried out Tara with a smile as she flung her ice bag down and ran up and hugged Sandy, soon followed by the remaining three girls.

Sandy felt like crying. Her dream had come true. The Pots of Sex were back and ready to lick.

Epilogue 1 – The Disturbing (original) Ending.

If you’d like to read to the “happy” ending, Go to Epilogue 2.

Personally, I prefer the disturbing ending… wrenching as it may be…


Sandy was surprisingly comfortable laying naked on the grass. Must be the sand-based soil she figured.

She turned to her compatriot laying a few feet away.

“You still OK with this slave tiff, you can still back out,” said Sandy to the nude, blonde teen. “I know, believe me, how much you love having sex with women.”

“I am your slave, if you chose to come here to the reservation with your friends for Thanksgiving break and join them in being turned straight, then my place is at my Mistress” side,” said Tiffany. “And let”s face, if you won’t want to have sex with me for what, is it six months before the next evaluation, no point in me staying gay, might as well turn straight with you and we can at least double-date.”

“Nothing personal slave tiff, you understand,” said Sandy. “The sex with you has been great and that day of the reconversion you saved me and all the girls bacon.”

Sandy watched as the medicine man approached, he smiled as he stuffed the woodcarving into each of Sandy and Tiffany’s pussies and then began pouring liquid into their opened slits.

“Mistress, you did apply for the grad assistant’s position with the team, you will be back next year,” asked Tiffany with a note of concern.

“Yes slave tiff, by the way, after this is done its back to Sandy and Tiffany, I talked to coach and she said she would recommend me for the job,” said Sandy as her long, athletic body began to shudder a bit as she felt the pressure start to build in her.

“If I am not bossing you around in the bedroom, I’ll be doing it on the field hockey field as your coach.”

“Don”t worry, in six months, I know you’ll want slave tiff back,” said Tiffany as her body began to shake a bit. “I have faith Mistress Sandy will return to claim her slave and return to the joys of girl-girl sex. O-o-o-o-o.”

..As Sandy and Tiffany began alternating screams of “Sex!!” as Hothar”s influence took hold of their sexual preference, Chief Fulltown and the Medicine Man stood a few yards away.

“That’s the last of them right Marty,” said the chief. “Six”.

“Seven, remember we did your daughter earlier today before the college girls came in,” said the Medicine Man.

“Yeah, she really had a thing for that Tara girl, when she found out she was coming in to be straight again, she just came up to me out of the blue and said “What”s the point, might as well try guys,” said the Chief. “You know what, now I feel bad about starting the whole thing. My daughter was so happy when she was having sex with her and so miserable and lonely since we sacrificed her friend to Hothar.”

“Too late now chief,” said the Medicine Man, as they watched Sandy and Tiffany’s bodies rise up as their shouts became louder.

“Well, looks like we’ve hit on something Marty,” he said. “Pretty popular. These two weren’t even here this summer.”

“Yeah, maybe there is a market for changing lesbians into heterosexuals,” said the Medicine Man. “From now on we charge money for this, and I mean a lot of wampum.”

“Marty, I agree,” said the chief as he put his arm around the Medicine Man. “This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Epilogue 2

The “happy ending” second version
from the author

Click here for the original ending


(One year later)

It was a hot late summer day and the 25 young women swirling around the field doing various drills were mostly in sports bras and Spandex shorts, except for Tiffany Montgomery who had decided to show up for the first day of field hockey practice in little more than a bikini.

Sandy stood on the sideline, shouting words of encouragement to some and constructive criticism to others. She wore a pair of Daisy Dukes and the standard university athletic shirt that had “Coach” on the left breast.

A beautiful copper-skinned girl then walked into the area and made a beeline for Sandy, who at that moment was berating Tiffany as she did pushups at Sandy’s feet.

“What a trashy slut you are, a disgrace to the university,” said Sandy sternly. “Come here dressed like the lowdown, filthy whore that you are. You will be punished, severely, when I get done with you. You won’t be able to count the number of tongue-lashings you will be getting from me you disgusting little tramp.”

The gorgeous girl, who was in brown shorts and a tan crop top, stopped a few feet from Sandy and observed the scene. She noticed two large pools of moisture under the woman doing sit-ups.

One pool was where her mouth hit the ground, but the other was directly below her hip area, which the girl though was a strange place for sweat, if that was what it was, to fall.

“Uh, I’m supposed to talk to Sandy McKay but if this is the way players are treated, I have to be honest, I’m not up for it,” said the girl. “Tara never told about this.”

Sandy whirled around to look at the girl and immediately noticed the curves in her figure and creamy skin. Sandy then got a big smile on her face.

“Come Many Feathers!! I’m so happy to finally meet you,” said Sandy as she went over and gave her a hug. “Don’t worry, this is a very special case.

“Tara said you were enrolling here and were coming out for the field hockey team but frankly I didn’t really believe her. I didn’t know Indians played field hockey.”

“What do you think we do, sit around our teepees and smoke peace pipes and drink fire water all day,” said Come Many Feathers. “Actually, I haven’t played in a couple years but when one of the girls came back over the summer I had them bring a stick and a ball with them and I’ve been practicing.

“Tara thought it would be a great way for a new student to meet girls, and get hooked up quickly into the college lesbian sex scene.”

“All Tara thinks about is how to get hooked up quickly for sex,” said Sandy. “But since I’m told Becky is paying your tuition, you’re not costing us any scholarship money so as long as you get along with the girls and don’t ruin the team’s chemistry, I’m sure we can find a spot for you.”

“Don’t worry about that, the chemicals in my tongue will be in the team’s snatches,” said Come Many Feathers as she looked out on the field where the rest of the team was practicing. “Mmmmm, nice crop of hotties. It looks like I’ll want to have sex with every player. I’ll be a real team player then won’t I?”

“I think Tara has been a very bad influence on you, you sound just like her,” said Sandy with a laugh and then a small sigh. “I miss her so much but all I have to do is pick up a fashion magazine and I know I’ll see at least one picture of her. I’m so happy for her success.”

“Yes, she’s already one of the top models in New York, and on top of a lot of models, if you know what I mean,” said Come Many Feathers with a wink. “Uh, excuse me, but this girl looks like she is about to die.”

Tiffany was groaning and sweat was pouring off her body as she continued the pushups.

“Stop now!” barked Sandy and Tiffany immediately flopped to the ground completely exhausted. “Get up slave tiff as your mistress has instructions for you.”

Tiffany wearily dragged herself off the ground and when she saw Sandy with the stranger, gave Sandy a look, knowing she was never referred to by her secret pet name around other people.

“It’s OK, slave tiff, this is Come Many Feathers, she became a very good friend of the other Pots of Sex at the reservation last year, which means she is automatically a very good friend of mine,” said Sandy. “She knows all about our, uh, little arrangement. So do you think you’ve been punished enough?”

“I’ve been a bad slave, a very bad slave, I deserve much more punishment coach-mistress if you desire,” said Tiffany. “But first may I go back to the locker room and shower? I’m pretty sweaty and grimy and all this severe punishment has made me, ah, need the shower room to do something private to relieve tension.”

“Yes, your Mistress will allow you to go but get your butt back here after you shower and do what you have to do; just because you were a freshman All-American doesn’t mean you don’t need practice,” said Sandy. “And wear something more like the other girls will ya. It’s field hockey practice not a day at the beach.”

“Yes Mistress, I will obey,” said Tiffany in an obviously needy voice and she soon scooted away.

“Wow, hot, cute and wants you to boss her around, a nice trifecta,” commented Come Many Feathers.

“Yeah, but I may need to make slave tiff a daily double instead of a trifecta this year,” said Sandy. “See, I’m not the head coach or anything; I’m just a graduate assistant. That means the college pays my tuition for grad school and in return I help out with the field hockey team.

“With my coaching duties on top of my studies, I doubt I have enough time to satisfy slave tiff totally. I mean, she is a complete cutie pie but she has this absolutely immense appetite for sex. Outside of the team and classes, I think all she does is think about having sex.

“I might need to farm her out sometimes when she wants sex and I’m busy.”

“She can certainly come down on the farm right here,” said Come Many Feathers as she grinned and pointed to her box.

Sandy gave another laugh and then a sigh.

“I hope we can become good friends Come Many Feathers, I need it because as you know my fellow Pots have now gone on with their lives,” said Sandy. “The only one still on campus is Lara because she got a grad assistant’s job in biology but she is so totally wrapped up in her relationship with Dr. Oxmiss, and they’re right now moving into a new house; I don’t expect to see her as much.”

“I’m sure we will be great friends, they are all such special people and if you are a Pot of Sex like them there is no way I can’t like you,” said Come Many Feathers.

“And anyhow, we have a lot in common. When the girls were turned straight by the medicine man I saved their bacon, and then the bacon got cooked again but you saved their bacon a second time.”

“Yeah, instead of the Pots of Sex, when me, you and slave tiff get together, we can call ourselves ‘The Re-lesbianizers’,” said Sandy with a smile.

“Hey, I almost didn’t notice. You said one of the girls came back to the reservation. What was that about?”

Come Many Feathers suddenly stopped being in a jovial mood.

“I promised them I would not reveal their name, you will undoubtedly find out some day,” she said. “One of the girls came back to be turned into a heterosexual again. She was in love with a guy and wanted to be delesbianized.”

“Wow,” said Sandy. “All the girls bitched when I turned them into lesbians again but within a couple days they were back to munching carpet and having a high old time.”

“She made some excuse to the Medicine Man about how her Hothar was destroyed. Remember, my father thinks all the girls are still straight or he wouldn’t have let me come here,” said Come Many Feathers.

“I had to witness her sacrificing ceremony, yuck, so the Medicine Man didn’t do any funny business when she was under his spell.”

Sandy’s mind whirled. Who among the Pots of Sex would want to go back to being straight?

Working with gorgeous models every day, Tara was in pussy heaven. No way it was her.

Lara was in a committed lesbian relationship with Dr. Oxmiss so she was out and Becky was pursuing an art career in Paris at the moment, painting nude female models and hitting the hot lesbian Paris club scene every night, last Sandy had heard.

It then dawned on Sandy, the truth hitting her head like a bolt of lightning.

“No freaking way!!!” Sandy suddenly shouted.

Just then, Tiffany ran back onto the field. She had a thin white t-shirt and gym shorts on now, although she was obviously not wearing a bra or panties, and had an embossed letter in her hand.

“This was in your inbox Mistress so I fetched it for you,” said a refreshed Tiffany.

“Your Mistress is pleased, you will be rewarded tonight,” said Sandy. “Now take Come Many Feathers to the equipment room and her get her properly situated and both of you then get on the field and get in line for the drills.”

“As always, I obey,” said Tiffany as she led Come Many Feathers away by the hand.

Sandy looked at the envelope.

It was obviously very expensive, had raised letters and had to have been hand delivered to the office since there was no stamp or postmark. She opened the letter and her eyes got wide as she read the first sentence:

Mr. And Mrs. Francis Collins are extremely pleased to announce the wedding of their daughter Joan Beth to Mr. Roger Bascom of San Francisco.

Sandy read the rest of the wedding invitation in stunned silence.

Joanie was getting married?? To a guy!!

At first glance it seemed strange but, it did answer the one nagging question Sandy always had about that whole weird Indian experience.

While the other girls had acted pretty much normally except for the sex part when they were turned straight, Joanie had impetuously quit the women’s campus group she had founded to be with her boyfriend, whom she obviously had fallen madly in love with.

“I guess love does conquer all,” thought Sandy. “I defeated Hothar but no one tops Cupid.”

If you’d like to read the original ending again now, click here

It’s not how it ends that matters, it’s how twisted it gets…

Reposted from MCstories.com with the author’s permission

Note: Hothar is the real name for the Egyptian god of fertility.

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