Dusty Dimension Hop
Disclaimer: If you are under age, not a fan of lesbian mind control, or otherwise not permitted to read ahead, this is your warning. All of the women portrayed are of a legal age for such naughty endeavors, and the term ‘girl’ is not used to denote otherwise. Nonconsensual sex is unethical in real life, and any such examples within this fiction is not condoning or supporting such acts. The following work is copyright Madam Kistulot 2020, and not for reposting or other such uses.
It was a relatively quiet night in Midas City. Naturally, that didn’t mean that nothing untoward or particularly interesting was happening. All that meant was that those interesting, untoward, twisted things were all going on far too quietly for anyone not involved to even notice. At a glance, Midas was calm, placid, illuminated by so much electric light that the stars and moon above were hardly necessary.
Things were so calm that no one even noticed the woman who appeared more or less out of thin air.
Even if there was a bright flash, or crackling lightning, it wasn’t dramatic enough of an entrance to draw anyone’s attention. It was late at night, and those closest by were too busy interacting with each other to care about the rest of the world. When Eleanor suddenly found herself on the ground in the dark alley, her blue eyes straining to focus in the dim light, no one saw any sign of it at all.
Oh. Great. I wonder what crimes against nature I’m going to come across this time. Eleanor sighed as she stood up, and brushed herself off. Her travel was painless and instantaneous, but she was already done even thinking about the world she’d just left. Gravity doesn’t work that way. Wings don’t work that way. Ugh. How do these dimensions even work…?!
No one was ready to answer the dirty blonde as she made her way out of the alley and onto the nearby sidewalk. She hadn’t expected an answer, but the thought had almost been a dare to the universe. With some of the strange things she’d seen, a universal narrator would not have surprised her in the slightest.
It was still impossible, but it wouldn’t be in her top ten most impossible universes.
The young woman reached up and checked her hair. It was still messily tied back, bangs falling loosely over her glasses with large round lenses and black frames. She was dressed simply, a pair of tiny, dark-blue jean shorts and a loose, gray tank-top that was loose enough to show the strap of the white bra she wore underneath. Her figure wasn’t lithe or athletic, but rather cutely chubby, making her bare legs draw the eye both for the smoothness of her skin, and how supple they looked. It would be easy for anyone who glanced to imagine grasping and squeezing at that fullness, or the fullness of her ass.
Nothing looks strange so far, it’s just a city… No magic, no flying cars, just an ordinary city. That’s a good sign! Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief as she began to walk down the sidewalk, looking for some place to duck in. Bright Burger… Okay, that’s not a burger joint that I’ve seen before, but it’s not bizarre… MA isn’t a tech brand I’ve heard of before, but who cares about that… She paused in front of a door, quirking a brow as she looked up at the sign that hung above it. The Most Common Superpower…? What…? Well, it says open, so…
Besides the name, the sign had a silhouette of a woman on either side, one with her arms over her head like she was dancing, and the other holding a drink to her lips. Both were voluptuous, wearing capes, and fancy boots. The capes struck her as an odd touch, but with how late it was, Eleanor was fairly certain the only thing open would be nightclubs.
If she was going to be stuck hopping around from world to world, the last thing Eleanor was going to deny herself was a chance to bump into pretty members of the fairer sex. Beautiful women tended to be one of the few things a new world had to offer her. That, and impossible things—things that being a college physics student told her were not possible. She didn’t need to finish her degree to have a deep enough understanding of the basics.
As she pushed the door open a distant sound of thudding, loud, industrial music greeted her. It was the kind of volume that made it clear it would have been so much louder if she was just one room deeper. The lobby was nice, small, and all of its walls were painted black. A woman sat behind a counter dressed in all black. It wasn’t latex, or leather, just a loose t-shirt and a loose skirt along with arm bands that wrapped around her pale arms. There was a loud pop as the pink bubble in front of her lips popped, and found its deflated shape pulled in past black lips. “Five dollar cover charge. Two drink minimum. You in?”
Eleanor blinked, and reached down to her shorts. Luckily, the last world she’d rolled through had a generous person or two and she’d ended up with a small windfall. There was more than a small spike of worry that her money wouldn’t be compatible, but everything seemed like one of the Earths that would be in line with what she considered a more “baseline” Earth. That probably didn’t crop up on those varieties—often. Usually when it did there was more nuclear fallout.
She pulled out the five, and dropped it down onto the counter. “Uh… sure. So… what’s with the name…?”
The woman behind the counter raised a brow. “You’re not from around here, huh…?” She lifted up the bill, shoving it away as she stamped the back of Eleanor’s hand.
“No, I’m not. I’m from… out of town?” Eleanor wasn’t sure how ordinary her jaunts would be in this world, and the last thing she wanted to do was stand out any more than she already did. Something about the nature of traveling the multiverse made her a magnet for all manner of strange happenings. She didn’t need to go looking for trouble. “That a bad thing?”
“Hell no, means you might think our joint is cooler than it actually is.” The woman grinned, and glanced down to her own chest. Eleanor’s blue eyes followed down as the woman gave her own breasts a playful bounce. They weren’t especially large, perfectly fitting into her hands, but it was still a cute sight. “Let’s say if I had it, that woulda been way more dramatic. You know what they say about super heroines, right? Somehow most of ‘em end up with a crazy big pair of tits. That’s the joke, anyway. We’re not a strip joint, not so overtly anyway, but when you’re in Midas City… lean into it, ya know?”
Eleanor blinked again before she caught herself and forced out a laugh as she moved towards the door that would clearly take her in to the club proper. “Right…! Lean into it…! Well, uh… Thanks…! It was nice meeting you…!”
Waving with one hand, Eleanor quickly pulled open the door and sighed in relief at the loud sound and the darkly lit room. So I may have to deal with a universe that has super heroes—and that’d be pretty fucking weird—but at least no one could possibly notice me in a place like this. The music is too loud, it’s too dark, and people are going to be distracted by—
“Hey. Pay attention to where you’re going, huh?” A deep blush rose over Eleanor’s cheeks as she fell back. So excited to be hidden away somewhere no one would notice her long enough to figure out a more solid plan she’d walked right into a very pale woman dressed in black and gray. She had short, messy black hair, a black t-shirt with a white skull at the center, and a gray skirt that fell over her pale, pale legs. She wore a pair of sensible flats, looking a bit more into function than being drop dead sexy.
Her lips were painted black, just like the woman who’d stamped Eleanor’s hand.
“S-sorry…! I was uhm… distracted…!” Something about the shorter, paler woman’s gray eyes looked so intense as they met Eleanor’s. They were so cool, detached. Distant. “Won’t happen again…!”
“Sure.” The shorter woman quirked her lips into a smirk, grabbing at Eleanor’s hand. “There’s a drink minimum. Why don’t you come with me to get that count started?”
Oh… Oh shit. Eleanor forced herself to laugh again. She was still trying to get her bearings in this new world, and already she’d made a mistake. All I had to do was just watch out for the cute goth chick and none of this would have happened. Fuck. Good job, Eleanor. Your streak of everything working out lasted for less than ten minutes because you weren’t focused!
The goth woman didn’t wait long for an answer. Instead, after a moment she took ahold of Eleanor’s hand and pulled her towards the bar. Before Eleanor could even think of a response she was being pulled along, and her eyes fell down towards the goth girl’s ass. It wasn’t the biggest, the roundest, or the tightest she’d ever seen, but it still had Eleanor rubbing her lips together. The way her skirt fell over it, the way it moved with each step, it was entirely too enchanting.
Okay, maybe this world isn’t so bad if it has women like her in it. That’s an ass to die for. Eleanor’s blush didn’t diminish, but she also didn’t particularly care. She was squirming, and staring so intently that she only noticed that her leering had been caught when the shorter woman turned to face her, holding out a drink.
“It’s on me.” The woman’s smirk deepened, growing more intense as she idly sipped at a drink of her own. “Doesn’t count for your two, but I’m in a generous mood.”
“Generous… right! Thanks! I appreciate it!” Eleanor was so eager to not embarrass herself that she immediately took a long gulp of the neon-green drink. It was sweet and tangy, fruity but undeniably alcoholic. It wasn’t enough to make her cough, but she still felt it tingle.
Gray eyes rolled, but the woman’s smirk stayed wryly amused. Eleanor could only hope that was a good sign. If she had to get noticed, at least it was by a woman with a hot ass.
Her focus might not always be on the right things, but she wasn’t lacking priorities.
Black lipstick smudged on the goth girl’s glass, but her lips stayed black. “What’s your name, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. What do you… do?”
“Oh..! I’m Eleanor. I’m…” Her eyes gazed over the shorter woman again, before she looked out across the club. There were a fair few women who looked like waitresses wearing capes and masks that only covered just around their eyes. Their necklines dipped low, their skirts were high, and so were their heels. “I guess I’m just a student for now… You come here often?”
“Only on Thursdays. Goth night. I like the… atmosphere.” The black haired girl smirked a little more. Eleanor felt like she was missing a joke, but she tried to not worry about it too much.
It was hard to worry when the woman was still paying attention to her. This might be one of those moments where I’m getting myself in over my head, but it’s not like I’m going to let that stop me. Maybe I’ll only be here for a night. Maybe I’ll be here for a year. If I don’t make friends…
Eleanor sipped her drink again. It was strong, but it was sweet enough to make it hard to mind. It was exactly the kind of drink she should be nursing and not downing. “Mm. This is good, thanks…! What’s your name…?”
“Dust.” The goth girl took another drink, and leaned her side against the bar. She looked a little punky, a little sexy, and a little cute. If she was a little taller, her smirk might have made her look a little dangerous. Instead, she just looked like she was trying to put on airs. It was attractive, and it made the thought of getting to spend the night enjoying getting to know her better all the more fun, but it also made her seem a little silly. It was as if she thought she was intimidating when she didn’t look any older or more dangerous than Eleanor.
It was hard to deny that she had a certain dominant energy, but it was matched by how she almost seemed bored while still being amused. She had a casually adrift air, sipping at her drink and watching Eleanor while seeming only half interested. It was strangely attractive.
Before she could part her lips to say that Dust didn’t sound much like a name, but like something you’d get some feathers to clean up, Eleanor noticed a thin layer of dust over her hand. It was only over the hand holding the glass, but it was over the glass, too. She brushed it off, faintly frowning. The club hadn’t seemed messy before, but she must have been too distracted by the woman in front of her to give the glass enough attention to notice.
For half a moment she wondered about the girl’s name, and the dust covering her glass. The thought was still only half formed before her thoughts were scattered like so much dust. “My name’s Dust—but that’s not me. That’s just dust. This place has a nice atmosphere… But it can be a little… filthy.”
The way Dust’s eyes hooded when she said ‘filthy’ made Eleanor’s thighs squeeze together. There was no way she wasn’t blatantly hitting on her. There was no way she didn’t want her, too. Mutual attraction was always fun. “Well… dirty girls can have plenty of fun, right?”
“Mm. Like you wouldn’t believe… But I’d be careful, wouldn’t want to swallow a mouthful of dust. That would just be gross, huh?” Dust grinned as she took another long, slow sip of her drink as if to make Eleanor unable to ask any questions of her.
Eleanor tried to mimic the motion, to just grin and take a drink, but found her lips resting not on the bare edge of a glass. She’d just wiped the dust away from it, but somehow the entire rim of her glass was dusty again. Some of it was even settling over her hand, and without a second thought she rubbed it away. It could only be some strange sensory illusion, Eleanor was sure of it, but somehow it felt like the dust hadn’t all brushed away. It felt like some of it had melted inside of her hand, and was itching, aching, melting at the inside of her body.
Her blue eyes faintly hooded as she squirmed from the strange, hazy sensation. It wasn’t incredibly intense, especially not compared to the strength of her drink, but it did feel notable. It was enough to make her pause and stare down at her hand. It hadn’t felt special—it had just felt like dust.
Dust doesn’t usually gather so quickly, so I must have just missed it before and she’s making fun of me. Dust doesn’t sink into your skin and make you feel all warm like there’s something melting into some sort of sticky resin inside of you. That’s silly. Eleanor shook her head, trying to fight away the sensation. I’m just not good at holding my drinks in this world. It must be stronger than I think it is. That’s gotta be it… It’s the only reasonable explanation.
With a sigh Eleanor brushed off the glass again, and fluttered her eyes as she felt more of that strange sensation. The drink was definitely getting to her, because she could almost swear that she felt that warm, heated up feeling, viscous, smooth, warm, was spreading through her fingers. She shook her head more, and felt a little unsteady on her feet.
Dust laughed, grinning a little more as she sipped her drink again, or continued to sip. For some reason or another, it was hard for Eleanor to be certain. Things felt a little fuzzy. That definitely had to be the drinks—the drinks and her arousal. That’s the only logical explanation for why I feel a little hazy and warm… I just want to fuck. Obviously…! She doesn’t need to laugh at me… She’s a little bitch, but lucky for her? She’s hot, and I can overlook a little bit of bitchiness for that.
“Nnn… These drinks are a little strong, huh…?” Eleanor flushed as she found her voice came out with much more of a slur than she’d intended. Her lips just weren’t moving as quick as she’d intended them to move, and her voice came out almost sloppy. It was like everything was covered in a thin layer of warmth that kept building on itself, sticky, scratchy…
Without realizing it, Eleanor had begun rubbing at the back of her hand. The itch was insidious, so faint that she didn’t even notice it at first. By the time it began to be more intense she was rubbing it firmly, her nails pressing in. She wasn’t making herself hurt, but she felt a growing ache for relief and that itching was getting in the way.
“They’re alright, I guess. When you come here often they aren’t all that strong.” Dust shrugged, setting down her empty glass. “Want me to order the other two for you? You do like it, right?”
Eleanor giggled, giving a little nod. “Hell yeah! They taste great… I could go for more…!”
Getting drunk in a new world I’ve never been to before with a girl who wants to act all tough…? Nnn… Eleanor scratched a little firmer, her face scrunching up the slightest bit more. Probably a bad idea… But it is really, really hard to convince myself to give a shit. It’s not like I’m scared of her. I can take whatever she’s got, and more. She’s just some punk little hottie.
Dust made a motion to the woman behind the bar with two of her fingers, indicating herself and then pointing towards Eleanor. When the bartender nodded, Dust pushed her glass towards the other woman with the slightest flick of her finger. Eleanor giggled.
It was the kind of motion that someone made to look like they didn’t care, and Eleanor wasn’t stupid. That meant that she cared immensely. That meant that Dust really wanted to take Eleanor home. That could only mean good things.
That could only mean getting closer to the oddly named goth girl’s ass.
“You look a little out of it. Sure you can take more? Sure it isn’t too much for you, little girl?” Dust’s voice adopted what was possibly the most smug tone that Eleanor had ever heard from another woman’s lips. The bartender set down two new glasses, and Dust lifted one before she moved closer. She was close enough that Eleanor could almost feel her warmth against her waist. “You think you can take more…?”
“Oh, I can take more…! I’m not that much of a lightweight, I just needed to… to adapt! That’s all. I’m plenty capable of taking whatever you can dish out, Dusty.” Eleanor hooded her eyes, grinning as she sat down her now empty glass. “I’m not scared.”
Dust ‘s gray eyes hooded lower, her gaze still focused so intently on Eleanor’s. “Good. Then drink up.”
Even with verbal warning, Eleanor was too slow and hazy to properly react. When she tried to move, to react to the glass being raised to her lips, it felt like she was submerged in sticky tar that rendered it all but impossible for her to move. She was still trying to move her arm when the glass pressed to her lips, and sweet, tingling green began to pour into her mouth.
Not only was there so much green, smooth, wet, and cool, but there were small little points of something dry, something that felt like it should have been itchy, should have been making her cough, but instead it just melted inside of her just like that feeling on her fingertips. Every little spot in her mouth, and down her throat that one of those small little flecks of… something… touched felt temporarily so much more dry. Even with so much green booze pouring into her mouth, those spots continued to tingle, to itch, to feel warm and melty and hot in ways that made Eleanor’s head spin.
Even though the feelings with her in hand, in her mouth, and down her throat, it felt like somehow all of those little flecks were gathering in her skull. She could almost smell something like old books, or an old library full of out of date textbooks. The smell, no, the taste, felt like it was permeating all of her body, all of her senses, like she could almost taste that odd dryness, that scent of old books, in her eyes, in her thighs… everywhere.
Somehow the cup at her lips, and Dust’s hand that suddenly was squeezing at her hip, was enough to keep Eleanor upright. With how much of that dizzying feeling that kept melting into her, melting through her, it was hard to understand how she wasn’t tumbling to the floor. Her balance wasn’t just off—it felt gone entirely.
The green kept pouring down her throat, feeling like the glass was so much bigger than she knew it was. She hadn’t nursed on it for long before it had all been gone, but when Dust tipped it back the glass seemed bottomless. O-oh…Eleanor looked over to the bar and quivered, her thighs clenching as the sensation of an itchy, warm, scratchy dry fleck felt like it sank through her top and into one of her nipples. She wasn’t sure when they’d both gotten so stiff, but she couldn’t deny it now. Sh-she already poured one glass down my throat… this is the other glass… The one that was supposed to be for her…? I feel so… This isn’t… Nn possible…
Once the liquid was gone, the last drop of green splashed down across her tongue, Eleanor expected it to be over. She imagined that Dust would pull away, and she would need help or she’d fall to the ground. Instead the glass tipped more, but what came out was… different.
Instead of that green, sweet, strong alcoholic beverage being poured past her lips, it was just that feeling, that dry, flakey, itchy, smooth, tingling feeling racing down her throat. Even if it was so dry, made of so many small, floating, fluttery little flecks it seemed to flow just as easily as the drink had before. The only difference was that it wasn’t making it all the way down her throat. The feeling was melting into her mouth, melting into her body and then dissolving, making her feel warmer, slicker, hotter, and then… flakes were sticking to that.
I-it’s like m-my brain is… Like it’s… Some kind of… s-solvent melting at my head and… and something’s… resting over it… s-so dry… itchy… So… dizzy… So… Eleanor’s eyes crossed, her breath shuddery and weak as Dust tipped the cup up higher, pouring more and more of those dry flecks that could melt, warm, heat, dissolve, and coat the mess it made over and over again.
“I thought you said that you could take whatever I could dish out, Eleanor.” Dust rolled her eyes, laughing a little. Eleanor flushed darker, feeling so hazy, so floaty, so… dreamy.
No… Not dreamy, it’s more like… She moaned, but it didn’t disrupt those flecks. Her breathing could do nothing to stop them, only make them flutter up and stick to the roof of her mouth or the top of her throat. As soon as they touched her directly, she could feel that tingle, that itch, and then they dissolved inside of her. Each time, no matter where the flecks landed, she could feel it between her ears, behind her eyes, somehow fluttering down over her brain. It’s more like I’m… like I’m asleep, or like I’m… but this… Nnn this feeling doesn’t make any sense… The brain doesn’t have nerves, and you can’t feel things there, but they can’t get there any… any… way…
Eleanor couldn’t reply. Her mouth was too full of dust, small gray flecks flowing so freely from what was an empty glass to anyone who gave a close look. A woman who stopped by the bar to grab a drink watched, and Dust just grinned and waved the hand that had rested on Eleanor’s hip. The woman blinked, and walked away with her drink.
All around them, so many women moved their hips to the music, bodies swaying, bouncing, gyrating as the beat flowed through their bodies. The lights, dim, but intimate, shined over their bodies making sweat glisten and shine. There were so many women there, all of them caught up in the flow of the song and the ambiance.
In her own way Eleanor was just as lost, if not even more so than they were. She couldn’t move, couldn’t react, could only watch as if through a distant, Vaseline covered lens as everything seemed so bright and shiny, indistinct and hazy. She felt asleep and awake, there and not. It was so hard to hold on to any moment, and things were feeling more and more gray, more and more strange. That itchy, sticky, wet and dry feeling in her brain almost felt like it was sucking all of the color out of the world and making it so much harder to think.
I’ve never… felt quite like… Quite like this… b-before…Eleanor slumped in place, too slowly for anyone but Dust to notice. Feel… so… tired… So…
When Dust finally pulled the glass away, all it took was the faintest of shoves for Eleanor to collapse against the bar. She was limp, boneless, barely able to keep herself from sliding down to the floor. It was more the way Dust shoved her than any strength left in her body or mind. “You have a dirty mind, don’t you?”
Eleanor barely managed a groan of confusion. Her mind felt dirty, dirty in ways it had never felt before. It was as if someone had melted away the layer of her brain that made it easier to think, easier to feel awake, and then rolled it around in something chalky, dry, smooth, soft… It felt better than she would have imagined that sensation feeling, but she still couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t fight it. All she could do was sink more into that feeling as the small flecks continued to melt away at her brain so others could stick to it, forming a gray shell of half-awake barely-consciousness.
“We’re going to go for a walk. You don’t need to know where. You don’t care.” Dust spoke with both a flippant lack of interest, and a firm authority that Eleanor felt too floaty and half-present to question. It was easier to float along and let Dust direct her than to think.
Her mind was too dirty, to slick, and too many of the important parts felt like they’d been melted down and wrung right out of her. She felt aroused, but that felt so impossible to act on. She was so sleepy, so hazy, lost somewhere between a very realistic dream and just being half a sleep unable to wake up. Like a night terror, only… sexier and… gothier and… mmmm…
Dust moved closer, and blew a stream of gray into her ear.
Eleanor moaned. The feeling was so much more intense than just feeling it poured into her mouth, or rubbing it into her hand. It was so much more direct. Instead of that feeling tingling, it itching, and then mirroring itself in her head Eleanor could feel so much of that itchy, smooth, chalky feeling moving directly to her brain. She knew enough about the way her head worked to envision an incredibly accurate diagram of her brain being stuffed full of dry gray flecks, clogging up her synapses with a mess that she couldn’t possibly hope to wash away.
The idea that having her brain washed would make it easier to think was enough to make Eleanor giggle as the world around her grew even hazier and more indistinct. Her eyes were so hard to keep open, and so easy to let shut. Her body felt so heavy, so sleepy, so tired. It took so much effort to not just drift away, but she wasn’t sure if she would fall asleep, or what would happen.
She tried to hold on, to struggle, to strain against the soft, sleepy, weak feeling… but it was no use. Dust blew again, and there were too many flecks, too much warmth, too much of her mind melted and heated up into a sticky, molten sun covered with so much smooth chalk-like dryness. All she could do was groan as she felt everything drift and slide away.
The world was still gray when Eleanor returned to herself. She wasn’t sure if it was before, during, or after her body was shoved back against the wall. It was hard, and cool, but her body felt so warm, so floaty, that it didn’t matter at all. Nothing mattered. She was too heavy, too sleepy, too tired to do anything but groan and go wherever Dust wanted her to go. She couldn’t fight back, couldn’t struggle—she couldn’t even pretend to resist. That struggle had been lost before she’d realized what was even happening.
Her neck tingled, feeling wet, warm, and sensitive. She groaned, taking entirely too long to realize that Dust’s leg had ended up between her own. Her body grinded down against that knee, moving less because she willed it and more because that was what her sleeping body wanted.
“You’re a very dirty girl, aren’t you?” Dust’s voice felt like it kicked up all of the flecks inside of her head, making them dance as though they’d been blown up by a fan. Eleanor groaned, pressing down harder as she felt herself soak through her panties. “Welcome to my dusty world… You’re going to have a good time. You aren’t from around here, so… Welcome to Midas, city of a thousand mind-fucked sluts.”
“Th-thousand… mind-fucked… s-s-sluts… O-ohhh…!” Eleanor didn’t know how she was talking. Her lips felt too heavy to move. It almost felt like a dream where you can do things just by knowing you can do them instead of because you did what makes something happen. “D-diiiirty giiiirl…!”
Dust laughed, shaking her head as she slid a hand up under Eleanor’s top. Her hand quickly slid under that simple white bra, squeezing and kneading at the college student’s breast. It was rough, but hardly terribly painful. Even if there was a cold, dispassionate wickedness to the woman she seemed to have some sense of restraint. Whether it was self-enforced or not was something far beyond Eleanor’s understanding, but she could feel that kneading could have been so much harder.
Mmmm I almost wish it was… Even if… Mmmm I’m not sure I could take it… Everything feels so mellow, so…
Black lips mashed into hers, and Eleanor groaned as she felt more of that dust pour into her mouth, pour down her throat, filling her brain with that much more gunk that she knew she couldn’t shake free, knew was impossible, but could do nothing about. There was no way for Dust to be able to hide something like that in her mouth, especially not with her tongue rubbing along Eleanor’s, but that didn’t stop it from happening.
A breathless moan was all that she could manage by the time the kiss broke and she found her head pushed to the side. Black lips traced along the shell of her ear, a pink tongue flicking before so much more gray was blown right into her head.
Eleanor quivered on Dust’s leg, her body pressing her down harder, and faster, as all of her body trembled and shook. She felt so dizzy, so hazy, so weak, so…
“I saw you looking at my ass. Are you a dirty girl that likes an ass, or were you just staring because it was all that you could see?”
“Ohhh your ass is hooooot…!” Eleanor’s voice was drunk, sounding more asleep than awake as the sounds all slurred. Between the endless flow of dust that entered her head even when Dust spoke, and the leg between her thighs, she was a sweaty, quivering mess. “So… so hot…!”
“Tonight’s your lucky day then. You won’t be needing these.” Dust pulled away Eleanor’s glasses. She let out a plaintive cry, her fingers twitching at her sides as if she could possibly gather enough strength of body or will to reach out and stop them from leaving her face. It was pointless even to attempt as a gesture. Even her whine was so distant and quiet. Dust laughed, and Eleanor’s cheeks burned brighter. She felt so small, so powerless, but Dust was the shorter one, the one who looked younger, the one who looked less intimidating.
She looked so… Oohhh… H-harmless… She looked like she was just playing at being dangerous… Who could have known that she could… she could do this? Eleanor’s head rested against the wall behind her as Dust tucked her glasses into the neck of her t-shirt. She’s hot… so hot… and so fucking dangerous…
“Time to see just how much you love ass.”
Dust snapped her fingers, and Eleanor groaned as she felt all of the dust in her head, in her brain, in her body, go from creating a gray haze to an opaque shell that hid the world away and suffocated her to sleep.
“I want your lips to learn every square inch of my ass. Kiss my ass, lick it, suck it, worship it so much that you’ll be praying to it at night for the rest of your life!” Dust’s words were rough, harsh, full of such selfish desire that it was startling as Eleanor found herself back in control. She still felt half awake and half asleep, but shew as growing used to that feeling. The most startling thing was that she was somewhere inside, somewhere she didn’t recognize, and down on her knees behind the smaller, paler woman.
Dust’s skirt was pulled up over her waist, fully exposing every curve and contour. Her panties were nowhere to be seen. Just as Eleanor had thought, it wasn’t too round, too small, or too big… but it was beautiful. Her lips were already kissing at Dust’s smooth flesh before she realized she could move.
Mmm I can move but not if I try to move-move… I can only move if I just… let the dream carry me… I just need to… Surrender to it… I just need to sleep-fuck her… Eleanor giggled quietly, her mind only half aware as she trailed a reverent path across the other woman’s behind.
Just as Dust had instructed, Eleanor was taking her time. She wasn’t just racing to kiss every inch, or moving to gently nibble at every place that she knew Dust would like as quickly as possible. Dust hadn’t told her to lavish her ass with attention. She’d told Eleanor to worship it. So, Eleanor worshipped. She nuzzled, moaning as she savored the smoothness of her skin. She suckled and kissed, savoring the way the supple skin responded to her mouth. She bit and nibbled, savoring the way the smooth skin felt between her teeth. No touch was too firm, too raw, too intense. Everything was soft, and gentle. Everything was like Dust’s ass was more than just the part of a woman’s body she wanted to savor, but a goddess all in itself.
So close to the other woman’s pussy, it was impossible not to savor the musky scent of her arousal. The more she nuzzled and kissed, licked and bit, the more that scent grew stronger. Fingers were in her hair, but they weren’t rawly tugging or even pulling especially hard. They were savoring the feel of her hair, and keeping her trapped. She couldn’t pull away, but she wouldn’t if she could. Eleanor had a job to do, and she fully intended to do it.
Mmm thinks she can punish me with a good time… I’m going to make her ass feel amazing… Mmm… Snotty goth hottie… Eleanor was too fuzzy to giggle or she would have laughed. Instead, she merely moaned as her mouth trailed yet again along from the top of one cheek to just above her thigh, before she repeated it at the other side. Her skin is soo… Mmm chalky, so smooth, sooo…
Dust’s body was so clean, so pale, so incredibly smooth, but it was impossible to not get more and more of those flecks, more and more of that musty, itchy gray dust inside of her with each kiss, and each lick. It was impossible for her to sink any deeper into the dream. She was dreaming, asleep, everything gray, everything hazy, but she could move and experience because it was what Dust wanted. Dust was in control of the dream, a sand woman who would not allow her dreamer to escape into any other fantasy.
Eleanor was in heaven, her eyes hooded so low as she felt herself drifting through a hazy sea of gray. Her body moved without her will, and moment to moment, everything felt so insubstantial, so floaty, so unreal. It almost felt like nothing was happening at all, even though she knew that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew.
It was a sense she could feel in her twitching pussy that felt so good as she continued to savor Dust’s bottom.
“Alright. Time to move on. You’re going in.” Dust’s voice was still oddly flat, dispassionate and removed, as her fingers tightened around Eleanor’s hair and pulled her face in between the halves of her rear. “I want your tongue… So get to work.”
Again, Eleanor couldn’t think to reply. All she could do was extend her tongue, and slowly dance it along the tight, puckered hole. Like with the previous command, she didn’t move her tongue roughly, abrasively, or even especially quickly. Instead she took time, savoring every bump, every indent, inhaling the other woman’s scent so deeply. Dust tasted different, felt different than any woman ever had. She was so much more of that old-book taste, that library smell, that feeling of dry and itchy over anything else.
The scent of her pussy was more intense than the taste of the rim her tongue lavished again and again, moving quicker as she learned the way that Dust’s hips moved in counterpoint. When her tongue quickened, Dust’s hips followed suit, so she began to dip her tongue faster at those points, sucking, moaning as she lost herself in the dream of eating the other woman’s ass.
I’ve never had sex while I was asleep before… Mmm but I think this is the closest thing to that where the other woman won’t get angry… She didn’t need to think. She didn’t even need to act. All she needed to do was imagine, and the dream moved her body through the motions.
With so much of her mind melted away, it was so impossible for her to do anything more than savor Dust in the exact way she was commanded to savor her. It was impossible for her to worry about how long she would spend in this world, or what would happen to her in the next. It was hard for her to care that she’d been spirited away from the night club to a warehouse with a hard wood floor that made her knees sore without actually hurting them. She didn’t care about how it felt like she’d lost all track of where, and when, and why, and existed only to be a tongue trailing along another woman’s ass.
“Mmm that’s right… Like you mean it… Like it’s all you are… Forget everything else while you tongue my asshole you dirty girl!” Dust’s hips pressed back harder, quicker, and the chalky taste was thicker in kind.
The louder Dust’s moans became, the more powerful the dust felt that tingled and itched away at the last parts of Eleanor’s mind that hadn’t succumbed to a slumber so much deeper than sleep, so much more helpless of a feeling than any other she’d ever felt before. She flicked her tongue, suckled, and groaned as time stopped feeling linear and what happened moment to moment made less and less sense.
One moment her tongue was moving up, and then she would blink and her tongue was moving down. One moment she was suckling, then she would feel she was suddenly blowing as though no time had passed, or she’d only imagined the other action. No moment seemed to last a moment. Either her tongue pressed in to that tight quivering flesh for an eternity, or the moment was over before it began. Nothing flowed in any logical manner, but the hazy, lost, chalky dream carried her through the confusion too smoothly for the bizarre logic to matter.
Dust had commanded her to eat her ass, and Eleanor obeyed. She was a sleepwalker, only she didn’t need to move from that place on her knees. Her hair was pulled tighter, her face was pressed into harder and firmer and tighter, but all she needed to do was suckle, lick, and moan. There was nothing else for her to do, and nothing else that mattered.
It was too disorienting to think, too disorienting to hold onto solidly, too disorienting to do anything but drift through the moments as she lost herself to a chalky, gray, melty dream.
“Mmm…! Fuck…! Your tongue is something else!” Dust laughed, bouncing on Eleanor’s tongue as she shuddered and clenched, her gray eyes rolling back into her head. “That’s it, keep that up, I’m gonna—”
Time jumped ahead and all that Eleanor could smell, or taste, was the pussy that was being rubbed across her face, staining her with so much lust. If she was enough in the moment, she would have been grateful that Dust had taken off her glasses. Dust’s forceful grinding would surely have broken them in half.
“Nnnn… f-fuck…” Eleanor groaned, fluttering her eyes as she slowly felt herself coalesce. “Where am I…? I was in a bar… There was this… green drink… This cute little goth thot, and… and…” She rubbed at her head, fluttering her eyes as she tried to make them focus. Her head felt heavy, full, and… tingled in the strangest way.
“What’s a thot?” Dust’s voice called out from across the room. Eleanor quickly spun around on the bed, trying to get a look at her, and felt like an hourglass. All of the dust in her head went from one side to the other, and while it moving inside of her after the effect had dissipated didn’t start it again, it was dizzying enough to make it impossible to move.
She needed to recover, to regain her balance, to even begin to understand what had happened. Her head felt full of so many tiny little particles, but that was impossible. There wasn’t enough room inside of the human skull to fit so much and have it move so freely.
Even if there was… I shouldn’t be able to feel it like this… The human brain doesn’t have nerve endings…! There’s the physics of how it would fit, how it would move and—
“I asked you what a thot was. Is your head that over-stuffed?” Dust rolled her eyes, pulling her skirt up along her pale legs. She was topless, and her black hair was slicked down to her head. Her lips were a pale pink. It looked almost wrong, like a woman like Dust shouldn’t have been able to have a color of lips that wasn’t black.
“Oh it… It means…” Eleanor blushed, suddenly terribly embarrassed. She’d been so half asleep that she hadn’t even been able to tell anyone else was in the small, nice little room with her. It was remarkably clean, and incredibly Spartan. There was no clutter, and nothing much more than the bed and some storage. “It means you’re kindof a slut, but I don’t mean it in a bad way?”
Dust shrugged, her expression the same flat, neutral expression she’d worn before. “Mm. Okay. Sounds a little cute for me, but I like it. You’re strange, I must say. No woman’s ever reacted exactly like you.” Dust paused, pulling her shirt down over her bare breasts with a smirk. “Correction. Being clueless and utterly failing to understand what’s happening to her? I know a girl like that. A few girls like that… But you were more lucid. I’d be concerned but I think we both can agree we had a fun time last night, and I’m too busy today to really want to play babysitter.”
Eleanor’s cheeks burned an even darker red. “I… I don’t know what I did differently. You… You did something to my head, I… I can’t really rememb—”
Dust’s thumb moved across her fingers in a loud snap, and the dust inside of Eleanor’s head swirled around. All at once the night, from that empty glass, to the dust swirling around in her brain, all came back into focus. It was like looking at grainy photographs all handed to her in the wrong order, all in black and white, and several of them in perspectives that Eleanor couldn’t have been in because they included her… but her memory all came back in a jumble that was so raw and quick it left her dazed and blinking.
How did… How did she… How did… None of that makes sense…! She blew into my ear and… and I… I was on my knees and she… And I…
It was about then that she looked down at her body and realized one of the reasons why Dust didn’t have any black on her lips. It was all over her. She was naked, and black was all over her skin, marking her so many times over with Dust’s lips. Each lip print felt like a brand, like a barcode, like a mark that even if she washed it off Eleanor wouldn’t be able to completely escape the feeling that Dust had possessed her in a way that no other woman ever had.
“I… none of that makes any sense. The human brain doesn’t work like that. Memories don’t work like that. You can’t do that.” Eleanor’s voice was blunt, and confused. She had experienced it, but it made no sense. It seemed like it had to be an illusion, a lie, some kind of bizarre trickery.
Dust simply shrugged. “Whatever you say. Like I said, I’m pretty busy today—important deals to set up to get things running. If you’re still here when I get back, then we can go over how any girl I filled with that much dust wouldn’t be waking up for a week.”
Eleanor’s face turned pale, and her thighs clenched tight around her pussy that quivered and twitched. Everything about that sounded sexy, and dangerous. If Dust was serious, if she could do that, then staying in that room was not something she should do. It was fun, it was incredibly sexy, but she wasn’t entirely sure she liked the idea of her volition being in the hands of a woman who would take her so casually after introducing herself.
“That’s a familiar look. I really shouldn’t have gone after you, knowing how important today is, but I saw something and I wanted it. I pretty much have a blast like that. Last night wasn’t any different.” Dust’s lips curled into a smug, predatory grin. “If you stick around, I can give you another dose. Or I can give you a number to call. Maybe we can do it again sometime?”
“I… I think I’m good…! I’m not even sure how long I’ll be in… Minus…?” Eleanor flushed again. Remembering where she’d ended up could be hard—especially when the first solid memories she had of a place were being mind fucked.
Dust sighed, face in her hand before she straightened out her shirt. “Midas. Midas City. City of a thousand sluts. Remember that part. I came up with it.”
It was hard to be sure if Dust was joking. So much of what she said was so dispassionate, so cold, so emotionless that it was hard to be sure if the woman was even human. The way she’d tasted, the things she could do… I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t human at all. Maybe that explains how she can do the things she does—if she isn’t human then all bets are off, right?
The blue-eyed woman nodded, looking to Dust’s grays for any hint of how she was feeling, or what she might do. All she found was gray. Either there was nothing deeper to her, or she was far too opaque to read so quickly after meeting her.
I probably won’t have a chance to find out. It’s… kinda too bad. Her body was pretty fun, and judging from my body we had a lot of fun… even if I still can’t be sure what happened when… It was disorienting to not be able to trust the order of events, but Eleanor imagined that it was something she should try to get used to. Compared to Midas City, she imagined some worlds would be far colder, far crueler, and wouldn’t have women anywhere near as sexy.
“Right. City of a thousand sluts. I… Sort of don’t choose when I come or go, sad to say. If I’m here, or not here, when you get back…? It won’t be up to me.” Eleanor gave a dour smile to the gray eyed woman, and for just a moment saw something resembling an actual emotion.
It only lasted for a brief moment, but it actually seemed something close to concern. Calling it worry would be too generous, and completely miss the way it vanished faster than it arrived. “That’s too bad. You were a lot of fun. Never really had a woman do that with my ass before, but I might have to try it again sometime. I’m usually a lot… rougher… but something about you made that feel wrong. Maybe you made me think of her too much, and it still feels like I owe her one, and maybe I should be a little nice when it won’t hurt me too much. I’m sure I’ll grow out of that quick enough.”
“Who—no, forget I asked, sounds like an ex and you clearly don’t want to talk about it. Sounds like something bad happened.” Eleanor waved her hands to forcefully shove the idea away, and Dust smirked a little more. “What’re you going to do?”
“Oh, making drug deals, learning the lay of the land, you know how it is.” Dust gave a playful little shrug, her lips curling into another predatory grin. “I really should be going. When I’m gone? Tip your head to the side. I’m sure you’ll say that I can’t do that either. See you around, or not.”
Before Eleanor could even think of a response, Dust seemed to… dissolve, or break apart, or crumble away a loose, drifting cloud of gray dust. Without any more words, or any hesitation, it drifted under the only door in the room, and left Eleanor all alone.
She stared with wide eyes, forcing herself to blink slowly. “What the fuck was that?! You can’t just… Even if you were dust, not just named Dust, but actually dust, you’d need some kind of force to push you around! If you generated it inside of yourself, you’d need to not be fully dust, and being dust would mean that you’d be easily scattered by atmospheric pressure, much less a strong wind! That’s bullshit!”
Wherever, or whatever Dust was, she couldn’t respond. She was gone, and she’d left nothing behind. That meant there was no sentient narrator to give Eleanor any answers, which she found mildly comforting. That was the last thing she wanted to deal with.
“Fuck you, Dust. That’s… You drugged me, some kind of hypnosis, that explains all of this better than magic or alien dust or… Whatever-the-bullshit you are…” Eleanor snorted, crossing her arms over her bare chest. The movement stirred the dust inside of her head, and the sensation was stimulation enough to make her eyes flutter on their own. “Nnn… What was that you said…? When you’re gone… tip my head to the side…? It’s… probably just more bullshit, but…”
But thinking about it made it so easy to remember how it felt to be pushed to that wall, dust blown into her ear. Thinking about it made it easy to remember grinding her clothed pussy down into Dust’s knee and feeling it so unyielding as her whole body felt like rubber barely strong enough to support itself. She wasn’t afraid even if it all seemed so impossible.
How could she resist giving it a try?
Taking a deep breath Eleanor tipped her head to the sigh, and groaned as the feelings made her eyes cross. So much dust began to pour out of her head, forming a small pile that only grew taller, and taller on the bed next to her. The feeling was like dust moving over her clit, dust moving across her breasts, dust teasing its way through her very being and flicking over each and every little erotic sensation she could possibly imagine.
Not only that, but the sensation was hardly brief at all. Somehow the dust kept flowing, and flowing. The pile was already twice as tall as her head, and yet somehow it only continued to grow taller and taller as more of the dull gray flecks fell out of her ear.
If Eleanor was an hourglass she was one stuffed with too much sand, enough sand to fill both sides at once. Her mouth hung open, drool teasing at the corner of her lips as dust continued to flow and pour out of her ear and across everything that made her who and what she was. Her very sense of self quivered and shook, helpless to do anything but yield and surrender to the pleasure that felt more intense than sex.
Her whole body was tingling, melting, burning with lust and desire as the dust continued to pour out of her ear. It was a comical amount, so much that it should have required her whole body to be hollow… but it had come out of her head. It had come out with no extra pressure, no extra force, just her head tipping to the side.
When she recovered from the pleasure, her pussy drenched, the bed under her soaked, her body quivering, it was several minutes later. Her hands were tightly clutching at the bedsheets. Her eyes were staring distantly, as though they could see through the bare wooden walls in front of her. Her hips quivered, her thighs clenching so tight as her mouth tried to form any familiar shape and failed. For several moments all she could do was uselessly babble with no meaning or comprehensibility.
“F-fuuuuck… That’s… Im… impossible… It’s a bunch…. Of fucking… bullshiiiiit…” Eleanor whined, quivering as she wrapped her arms tight around herself. The dust sat there, doing nothing, simply being gray and collected in a pile. It certainly didn’t whisk itself away like “Dust” had.
She could be some kind of… nanobots…? Those could be… nanobots…? My body, full of nanobots, tiny little machines…? N-no… No way… That’s science fiction at best… Eleanor quivered, her eyes fluttering as she felt a final fleck of gray fall from her ear.
She couldn’t explain what had happened, but she also couldn’t trust her senses. It would have been easy for Dust to have drugged her. There was no knowing if her body chemistry reacted with what this world drank the same way as what she would have drank in her own dimension. There were too many variables, and Eleanor refused to acquiesce. Occam’s razor was a valuable scientific tool, but she was too wet, and too overwhelmed to know how to slice away all of the most unreasonable options.
It took entirely too much self-control to not reach out and try pouring some of that dust back into her ear. It would be so easy, and then she would know if it was some inherent property of that dust or if it was something that the woman could do in close proximity. If she was some kind of magician, some illusionist, then certainly she would need to be close by or watching from a camera.
The thought was impossible to believe, but she needed some kind of explanation that wasn’t “magical dust capable of self-propulsion.” No idea had ever sounded half as ridiculous. She was sure that was impossible.
Just as impossible was how some of the dust from the pie had fallen to her arm, not enough to do more than vaguely make her arm itch and left a faint design similar to a circuit board. She shook her arm, shaking her head. It was probably all just in her head, and nothing more important. What was more important was making sure that things didn’t get worse.
“I should… I should get dressed. I should get dressed, and get out of here. That’s the smart thing to do, and I should do the smart thing… Right…” With a deep breath, Eleanor began to look around the room for her clothes. Sure enough, they were all stacked atop a nearby dresser. They weren’t folded, and her panties were still stained from the night before, but Eleanor was less worried about that than she was about still being there when Dust got back. Even if everything she said and did was a lie, unreal, or otherwise nonsense, she didn’t want to admit how tempted she was by Dust’s offer.
Staying around, being a dirty girl with Dust? It hardly sounded like the worst world she could end up spending a lot of time wandering. Even if all I ended up doing was kneeling behind her…? I’d probably have plenty of fun… Too much fun. At some point it would stop being my choice. Something about me stopped her dust from keeping me in a coma, but maybe that would wear off? Maybe I’d just become another person from this dimension. Maybe there’s another Eleanor here and I’d end up cramping her style. I don’t belong here… so there’s no point in worrying about it.
It was hard to not feel conflicted, but it was easier to at least settle on her path once she was wearing her underwear. Without clothing in the way it felt like there was little reason to resist the urge to throw a handful of dust into her ear or into her mouth and masturbate the day away. Maybe Dust would be happy to see her again. Maybe they’d have a lot of fun.
Soon her tank top, shorts, and sandals were back in place. She half wished that it felt reasonable to take a shower first. Dust clearly had one, since her hair was so wet when Eleanor had accidently called her a thot.
No. If I get naked again then I’ll use the dust. If I stick around, then I’ll use more dust, and I’ll stay with Dust, and… She hurried out of the room, slamming it behind her as she tried to find her way down. She was on the second floor, and there seemed to be only one way down. She scrambled for an exit, too quick to even know where she’d gone. She only knew that she was outside and that was safer—both for herself and Dust.
There was no telling when she would be ripped away again, and if Dust wasn’t right up against her that was dangerous. Eleanor looked around, finding herself in yet another place she didn’t recognize. “You couldn’t have called me a cab or something, huh…?” Eleanor smirked as she started to walk down the sidewalk.
She had no idea what she would find the next time that the universe rejected her and sent her shunted through time and space to some other distant location, but she was sure that she wouldn’t soon forget a woman like Dust. She was impossible, but she was fun.
Maybe, just this once, that mattered more.
Nah… Eleanor shook her head, and continued to walk without any goal in mind. I’m pretty sure her making no fucking sense matters more.
Eleanor would not meet anyone else in Midas City before she left without warning and took with her a small circle of the concrete under her as she left.
Author’s Note: This story was a commission, and what a fun commission it was too! Going back to Midas City to visit with old friends is fun, and bringing someone new into the universe? Always a delight. If you’d like to see something similar, or just see stories before anyone else, you can support my Patreon campaign—plus it’s a good way to let me know that you want to see more of this story! There’s weekly status updates on what’s going on with my writing, too. If you’d like to join in with a group of fellow mind control fetishists to discuss my writing, please consider stopping by the Madam Kistulot's Domain Discord! this and other stories, join us at The Mind Control Literature Discord!
This story was directly supported by: Scot Leis, NekoIncardine, Zyfire, Dex, Kianna S, Alan P, Emily Greey, Shadows, Jasmine, Aleksandra C, and Carrie. Thank you for reading.