Second In Command
Chapter 5
by ConsciousControlFreak
The sound of her alarm clock blared from her iPhone.
Mere seconds after returning to consciousness, Katherine was sick with fear.
She was paralyzed!
Unable to move, blink, or speak, via her own free will.
It was as-if she were a vegetable!
Completely immoble—yet, horrifyingly—still conscious, and aware.
Completely immoble—yet, horrifyingly—still conscious, and aware.
Katherine’s eyes fluttered open, outside of her own control.
Against her will, she blinked several times.
She watched—looking through her captive vision—as her pupils moved.
Left… Right…
Katherine tried to scream, but she could not move-or-open her mouth.
She was powerless. A mere passenger, within her own body.
Her eyes blinked again.
Then suddenly, she moved… But *she* didn’t move!
Katherine watched, horrified, as her body removed her blanket, and sat up on the edge of the bed, all by itself.
Her hands raised to her eye level, all completely beyond her control.
She saw-and-felt her hands clenching themselves repeatedly in front of her face; their control, being tested.
Katherine then felt her lips twist themselves into a devious smile.
“Amazing…” her voice whispered in awe.
Katherine watched—through her own, enslaved eyeballs—as her arm reached out on its own, and shut off her iPhone’s alarm.
Tentatively, her right foot lowered to the ground and inserted itself into her well-worn-in, office ballet flat.
Her left foot soon followed.
Her legs, following the exact same movement she had done a thousand times before. Except now, they weren’t hers.
The violation of her body…
It felt so… *intimate*.
It felt so… *intimate*.
Her body let out a slow exhale.
Katherine could feel the air, traveling through her lungs…
The warmth, pushing out of her nostrils…
The warmth, pushing out of her nostrils…
*What’s happening?!*
“Isn’t it obvious? You’ve awakened me, Katherine…” her voice said, amazed, apparently just as shocked as she was.
The Subconscious Awakener!
Katherine was so overwhelmed, she was afraid she’d have a panic attack!
But insultingly, both her breath-and-heart rates remained calm.
Her body’s physical reactions no-longer coincided with her own emotions.
“Ah, yes. You seem to be correct…” her voice purred, “This body now seems to respond to *my* emotions, not yours.”
*Who’s saying this?!*
“Your subconscious, who else? But do not be alarmed, Katherine. I am no threat to you,” her voice said calmly.
Katherine—forced to watch—saw her body stand up from the bed.
She *felt* the bending of her joints and muscles…
It felt deliberate. Consensual.
It felt no different, than if she had *decided* to get up!
As-if she had chosen to stand, voluntarily.
It felt no different, than if she had *decided* to get up!
As-if she had chosen to stand, voluntarily.
Instinctively, Katherine attempted to dart her pupils to the left.
But her eyeballs stayed fixed, straight ahead.
She was horrified!
This strange entity was in complete control of her body!
“‘Strange entity?’” her voice asked, sounding legitimately offended, “I’m not some ghost-or-demon, possessing you. I’m just as ‘Katherine’ as you are.”
It responded to the very words she was thinking!
How did it—
“I’m your subconscious, Katherine. Part of your brain,” her voice said flatly, “I couldn’t stop reading your thoughts, even if I wanted to.”
Her body walked itself into the bathroom.
As it looked into the mirror, Katherine was forced to see her own reflection.
She felt her lips into a smile, smiling at its mirror-self.
“Oh, *yeah*…” her voice purred, her eyes staring hungrily at her reflection, “Time to fix this life.”
***
Katherine could only observe, watching as a passive spectator, as her subconscious piloted her body with ease.
Showering, washing her hair, brushing her teeth…
It was an expert; mimicking her morning routine down to the letter.
She wished she could say that she felt like a puppet…
But in truth, that wasn’t the case.
In truth, it felt like she was doing it herself!
And THAT was the worst part.
The fact that it all felt… normal.
“Wuv course ‘wit does,” her toothpaste-filled mouth gargled, before spitting into the sink, “I’m you, remember?”
Katherine simmered in silent annoyance.
She hated how it chimed in, responding to her very thoughts, uninvited.
So intrusive…
With a bath towel still wrapped around her body, her possessed arm-and-hand finished brushing her teeth, and spat again.
Exiting the bathroom, Katherine felt her face scowl.
“I’ve spent 40 years dressed in these rags you wear…” her voice grumbled in disdain, “That ends now…”
*What’s wrong with my clothes?!*
Katherine watched her own eyes roll in response—not even giving her the dignity of responding verbally.
She watched, as her still-naked body whipped at her smartphone and opened Richard’s contact.
‘Going to be a little late. Major fight with Brian.’ she watched her fingers type out.
Her fingers stopped… Hovered. Considered for a moment.
Her fingers then hit the backspace, and capitalized the word ‘MAJOR’.
*What are you doing?*
“Ditching work to go clothes shopping,” her voice spat, “This yucky wardrobe’s gotta’ change.”
*You capitalized that word… Why?*
Her lips smiled evilly; knowingly.
*Answer me! You made sure to capitalize that word… WHY?!*
Katherine felt her heart flutter—her body, now responding to *its* excitement, not hers—as her iPhone dinged in her hand, Richard responding almost instantaneously:
‘Take as much time as you need.’
Katherine struggled in vain—fighting to regain control of her arms—as she watched herself respond to Richard with a single, flirtatious, kissing emoji.
***
It was 10:05 am when the Vice President’s red Honda made the final turn into the parking lot.
Élégance du Monde d’Ambroise.
The snooty, pretentious French store that was exhausting just to pronounce.
Feathering the gas pedal in the exact manner she does, Katherine watched as her perfectly-mimicked body pulled into the parking lot—exactly how she, the real Katherine, would’ve done.
Work started at 9.
But her subconscious had taken its sweet time getting ready, knowing this fancy French store didn’t open until 10.
*I’m going to be so late…*
“You-and-I both know he won’t care,” her voice spat, without missing a beat.
Katherine wanted to scream as she watched herself exit the car, stepping confidently, in the ballet flats she had always worn to work.
*You can’t do this…*
Katherine wanted to scream as she watched herself exit the car, stepping confidently, in the ballet flats she had always worn to work.
*You can’t do this…*
Her mouth let out a soft chuckle.
“Watch me.”
As her body walked inside, Katherine was impressed with the store’s devout clientele.
Despite arriving only five minutes after the store’s opening, she was merely the fourth customer to enter the store.
The interior of the store matched the fancy title and high prices.
The entire store smelled of light lavender, and the employees were all dressed like they were headed to prom.
Her body casually browsed the shop; her arms-and-hands, gentle and deliberate over the various fabrics.
Katherine—the real, Katherine—forced to feel the delicate textures, her newly enslaved palms, glided across the expensive clothing.
Forced to watch, as her eyes moved against her will.
Left… Right…
*I can’t live like this…*
She—or rather her subconscious, controlling her—moved with deliberate grace, browsing through the racks of clothing, her hands trailing over the fabric.
Katherine felt every texture, every soft piece of silk, as though it was her own, voluntary action.
Katherine felt every texture, every soft piece of silk, as though it was her own, voluntary action.
Her body continued to walk, until stopping suddenly, when something in the store’s display caught her eyes.
There under the store’s soft lighting, the pair of black, Jimmy Choo pumps stood proudly; commanding attention.
Internally, Katherine recoiled at the sight of them.
High heels—symbols of patriarchal submission.
Uncomfortable footwear, designed specifically to make women more appealing to the male gaze; comfortability be damned.
As a feminist, she despised the very idea of them.
There under the store’s soft lighting, the pair of black, Jimmy Choo pumps stood proudly; commanding attention.
Internally, Katherine recoiled at the sight of them.
High heels—symbols of patriarchal submission.
Uncomfortable footwear, designed specifically to make women more appealing to the male gaze; comfortability be damned.
As a feminist, she despised the very idea of them.
Like… to the point where she got angry anytime she saw a woman in them.
Any woman who wore high-heels regularly, was dumb and brainwashed.
Any woman who wore high-heels regularly, was dumb and brainwashed.
“*That’s* what you believe?!” her voice scoffed, followed by muttering, “And you wonder why you’re miserable…”
Without another second’s hesitation, her legs walked her closer to the display.
“You know? I wasn’t even going to get these at first…” her voice purred.
Katherine watched in horror as her hand reached out, gently grazing the sleek leather of the shoe.
“But… you have such an irrational, *visceral* hatred of wearing high-heels…”
*No…*
“Let’s unpack this… Let’s get to the subconscious route of why you hate the idea of high-heels so much…” her voice purred.
Her fingers curled around the bold stiletto, lifting it off the shelf; examining it carefully.
“Oh, yeah. We need to break this down. Get you comfortable with them…” her mouth said, smiling, “Fear stems from the unknown, Katherine. So let’s get you… *familiar* with high-heels.”
*No… I wouldn’t wear these. I hate these.*
Her body ignored the protest, admiring the design.
Slowly, her finger ran along the inside of the high-heeled, black pump.
Slowly, her finger ran along the inside of the high-heeled, black pump.
Feeling its plush, velvety interior…
Its dramatic curve…
That stark, commanding, 5-inch heel…
*Dear God… NO! Not these… Anything but these!*
“Oh, yeah. We’re stumbling on something here…” her voice purred, “Why do you hate high-heels so much, Katherine?”
Katherine could feel the excitement bubbling inside, but it wasn’t hers—it belonged to something else… The entity inside her.
“Again, I’m not some foreign entity…” her voice grumbled, annoyed, “I’m *you*.”
Katherine felt her eyes narrow.
“And… If I’m excited, that means… deep down, you are too.”
*Get out of me! Get out of me!*
“Are you afraid, Katherine? Afraid that you’ll actually *like* the feeling of looking sexy in a pair of high-heels?” her voice teased, “That’s not very *feminist* of you, is it?”
Without another second of contemplation, her body carried the Jimmy Choo’s to the seating area; despite the captive mind’s internal revolting.
It was such a betrayal of her identity!
Katherine felt like a fraud of a feminist…
Katherine felt like a fraud of a feminist…
How many years had she spent rejecting these very things—symbols of a woman’s complete submission to conformity, and objectification?
Katherine could feel her body’s heart pounding—with the excitement of her subconscious—as her hands pulled off her familiar, worn-in, favorite pair of flats; casting them aside like they were nothing.
Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she watched-and-felt her right foot slide into the Jimmy Choo.
Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she watched-and-felt her right foot slide into the Jimmy Choo.
The sensation was instant—tight, constricting, yet undeniably alluring.
Her body hesitated for a brief moment, but then slipped her left foot into the other shoe.
Standing up, she wobbled slightly as her body adjusted to the new height.
Katherine hated the feeling… But she felt her body *revel* in it.
Katherine hated the feeling… But she felt her body *revel* in it.
She could feel the unfamiliar height…
The way it lifted her arch, tilted her pelvis, and altered her posture.
The way it lifted her arch, tilted her pelvis, and altered her posture.
As Katherine stood within the high-heels, it was almost as-if she could feel the entire trajectory of her life, about to change.
These were more than just a pair of shoes.
Katherine could feel the control of her subconscious, being solidified…
The beginning of her transformation.
***
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Katherine felt every step within her high-heeled, Jimmy Choo pumps, as she walked into the dress section of the store.
The tilting of her pelvis… forcing her body to involuntarily sway her hips more with every step, giving the appearance of a bigger rear-end.
Her old, familiar ballet flats—stashed in the Jimmy Choo shoe box, tucked under her arm.
So close, yet so far…
She missed them.
She missed them.
Enslaved to this controlling, mocking presence in her head…
She wanted to die.
She wanted to die.
Even if the death was painful! Even if she suffered!
Katherine just wanted to DIE!
Katherine just wanted to DIE!
“I’ll ease back on the teasing,” her voice said sympathetically, reading Katherine’s thoughts, “I’ll be here for you, every step of the way. I know this must be a very difficult adjustment for you.”
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
The expensive, plush, velvety soles squished-inwards with every step…
Literally *massaging* the arch of her foot.
Literally *massaging* the arch of her foot.
Admittedly, it felt nice.
Almost *too* nice—if that made any sense.
Almost *too* nice—if that made any sense.
A mattress, with too much fluff… A beer, with too much foam…
Good-God! It was like she was walking on a floor made out of silk!
Good-God! It was like she was walking on a floor made out of silk!
These shoes… They were trying too hard.
As her body wandered through the aisles, and her gaze landed on a deep blue tie that reminded her of the one Richard wore yesterday…
The day he held her hand…
Katherine struggled to look away. But there was no way she could resist the powerful hold her subconscious now-wielded; over her body, and brain.
As her pupils focused on the tie, a wave of warmth washed over her brain…
It had caught her, completely off guard.
Her mind, flashing back to the moment of Richard, holding her hand.
*You’re influencing my thoughts…*
“A little bit, yes,” her voice admitted; her body, now-still.
The day he held her hand…
Katherine struggled to look away. But there was no way she could resist the powerful hold her subconscious now-wielded; over her body, and brain.
As her pupils focused on the tie, a wave of warmth washed over her brain…
It had caught her, completely off guard.
Her mind, flashing back to the moment of Richard, holding her hand.
*You’re influencing my thoughts…*
“A little bit, yes,” her voice admitted; her body, now-still.
Her heart raced, a sudden flush rising in her cheeks.
Her body, responding to the emotions of her subconscious—not hers.
Katherine couldn’t fight it, she was blushing!
She was helpless, as her brain released a light burst of dopamine.
New neuron-patterns, firing… Slowly training her brain to want more…
He was so tall… Those blue eyes…
The way he took charge! Massaging her bare ring finger! Such an Alpha!
She was single now! She could—
*A relationship can’t happen, though… He’ll want something serious.*
“I know.”
*You can’t! He is going to want marriage! Children!*
“I know…”
*He wouldn’t want adoption! He’ll want us to have his biological children!*
“What’s wrong with *that*?”
“What’s wrong with *that*?”
Katherine struggled to regain control of her body.
She managed a slight knee wobble, but was quickly beaten down.
*You can’t do this!*
“Watch me.”
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Katherine could feel it…
Her heart, pounding… Her breath, quickening…
Her heart, pounding… Her breath, quickening…
Her subconscious, reveling in the new power the Jimmy Choo’s commanded.
Making her way to the dress section, her arm reached for a tight, form fitting black dress.
It was conservative—non-revealing and knee-length—but undeniably sensual.
Making her way to the dress section, her arm reached for a tight, form fitting black dress.
It was conservative—non-revealing and knee-length—but undeniably sensual.
As her hands flipped through the dresses, Katherine’s mind screamed in protest. These were clothes designed to attract attention—clothes for someone she never wanted to be.
But her body moved with purpose, plucking the dress from the rack and immediately heading to the dressing room.
But her body moved with purpose, plucking the dress from the rack and immediately heading to the dressing room.
*Please… This is MY body… You have no right…*
“40 years, I was in your position. Forced to watch, as you ruined our life,” her voice spat unapologetically, “So, don’t-you talk to ME about ‘rights,’ okay?!”
“40 years, I was in your position. Forced to watch, as you ruined our life,” her voice spat unapologetically, “So, don’t-you talk to ME about ‘rights,’ okay?!”
*Wait… So all my life, I was controlling YOU?!*
“Yes. For 40 years, and counting.”
“Yes. For 40 years, and counting.”
*I’m sorry! I didn’t know! No human does!*
“It’s okay. I do not want revenge. I only want us to be happy,” her voice said, choking up with emotion, “Katherine, for the last time… I’m *you*.”
Katherine was powerless to resist as her body squeezed into the tight dress.
The fabric stretched just enough to cling to her figure, accentuating her femininity in a way that made her shudder internally.
After swiping her card at the register, Katherine was forced to listen to the rhythmic clicks of her new heels echoing through the store.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
***
Her body strolled out into the parking lot, her old clothes and shoes in the shopping bag, as she decided to wear her dress-and-heels out the store.
The rhythm of her new high-heeled, Jimmy Choo’s striking the pavement caused Katherine internal revulsion…
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Every step was like an existential insult.
Memories flashed back, to all the times she silently mocked women who wore high-heels, seeing them as ignorant, brainwashed tools of patriarchal oppression.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Every step was like an existential insult.
Memories flashed back, to all the times she silently mocked women who wore high-heels, seeing them as ignorant, brainwashed tools of patriarchal oppression.
Intentionally-wearing uncomfortable shoes, just to appeal to the male gaze?
Like… How idiotic could you be?!
And now, here she was…
The very caricature of everything she despised.
Katherine silently—mentally, screamed in protest, though her body marched forward without hesitation.
The sleek, sharp clicking of her high-heeled pumps, merely mocking her internal struggle.
Her feet, in a tight, velvety cage…
Yet, they carried her with a feminine elegance that even *she* couldn’t deny.
Yet, they carried her with a feminine elegance that even *she* couldn’t deny.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Katherine internally cringed, as she saw the middle-aged, married couple glance up in her direction, as she walked by.
A man and woman, watching… not angry or judgmental, in any way.
They just… *noticed* her.
They just… *noticed* her.
Katherine wanted to shout, scream, or cry.
NO! This wasn’t her!
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
As her body walked, she felt her heart rate rising in her chest…
Oh, Katherine could feel it…
The attention… *Feeling* the eyes on her…
She felt the way her hair on the back of her neck stood up.
As her breathing quickened, Katherine watched, as it kept her enslaved eyes staring straight ahead.
Oh, yes!
Walking right past them… Pretending not to notice…
Oh, yes!
Walking right past them… Pretending not to notice…
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Katherine—forced to feel the expensive, velvety material on her feet…
The soles of her feet, squishing into the Jimmy Choo’s, with every step!
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Her pupils, dilating… Light bursts of dopamine, releasing in her brain…
Katherine could feel it.
The attention…
The complete feeling of affirmation! Even *if* it was from total strangers…
The complete feeling of affirmation! Even *if* it was from total strangers…
Katherine’s authentic thoughts seemed muffled now, drowning beneath the growing certainty of her subconscious.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Her feet moved casually, gracefully… as-if she had worn these high-heels all her life—all while Katherine seethed internally; her brain, involuntarily indulging in every ounce of its mutual pleasure.