For two weeks, every day, I subjected Sarah to the disk. Every day I told her she liked me and she wanted to be my girlfriend. She’d never considered me romantically before. She didn’t know of a strong reason to object, either. I seemed to be nice to her. Word had spread, including to her, that my financial situation had gotten significantly better. That, at least, made me appear to be a more suitable candidate to the ladies. She didn’t immediately desire to become my girlfriend, but she slowly warmed to the idea. She wasn’t sure if I was boyfriend material. She slowly decided I might be worth considering.

After two weeks she started to subtly flirt with me. I easily picked up on this. It was, of course, my idea in the first place. I asked her out on a coffee date. We had a good time. It’s easy for me to be confident and charming when the girl subconsciously likes me and a part of her wants to be my girlfriend. I had intentionally chosen an isolated booth. This let me expose her to the disk during the date. Through the disk’s spell, I learned what she liked and didn’t like. I encouraged her to think of me as a romantic interest. I turned the disk off.

“This was fun,” she said as we ended the coffee date.

“I agree. Let’s do another date in a few days.”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

I continued to expose her daily to the disk while we were doing our research.

I invited her to dinner at a nice restaurant a few days later. When I went to pick her up, I discovered a stunning beauty would be my date. Sarah was wearing a short skirt, tight top, and high heels. She had carefully done her make-up. I could smell an alluring floral perfume. I had reserved another private booth so I could use the disk during our date. I gave her another dose of the disk. While she was under the influence of the disk I again told her that she was romantically interested in me. She wholeheartedly agreed. I decided it was time. Once I turned off the disk, I made my move.

“Sarah,” I said, “I like you. I think you like me. I know it’s soon, but I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Um… yes, yes, and yes! I like you too. I want that a lot. Um, I, um, um, do need to tell you something. I have… some boundaries. Nothing more than chaste kisses unless I say otherwise, okay?”

“Whatever you say.”

My dream girlfriend had finally become my real girlfriend. I knew the days ahead would be glorious.

Her friends were shocked. They warned her about rebounding so soon after breaking up with Eric. I was financially stable, at least. My recent inheritance mollified her friends a little. Still, for years I’d been known as the “lizardman in training.” I did not have a high rank in the school pecking order. Her friends didn’t think we were a good match. Sarah said she knew what she wanted. I liked her saying that. She didn’t realize that what I wanted wasn’t what she wanted.

We soon fell into a routine. I would take her out on dates. I’d bring her back to my place afterwards. There I would turn on the disk and seep new ideas into her brain.

In the first week of our new relationship I put her under and repeated variations of instructions about her clothes. “If you’re going to keep being a good girl, you need to wear clothes that make it clear to everyone you’re a girl. Don’t wear jeans and a T-shirt any more. That makes you look like a boy. You should be wearing clothes that make it clear you’re a girl. You shouldn’t wear pants, shorts, skorts, or sweatpants. You should wear skirts and dresses. Make the hems short so everyone can see you’re a girl. Wear high heels. Show some cleavage and wear tighter tops. Make it obvious you’re not a boy. Make it obvious you’re a girl.”

She objected at first. While still under, she responded, “I can wear pants and be a good girl.”

“How would anyone know you’re a good girl if you look like a boy? You look like a boy, not a girl. You’re supposed to be a good girl. Dress so it’s clear you’re a girl. Otherwise people may think you’re not a good girl.”

The logic was weak, but the disk made her suggestible. She found it hard to argue. In the following days my girlfriend was wearing only skirts and dresses. Her hemline crept up until it was up to halfway up her thighs. She started wearing heels. She started to show more and more skin. Her T-shirts were soon replaced by blouses with scooped necks and short dresses that emphasized her cleavage.

I soon began my next campaign. While she was under the influence of the disk, I said, “Sarah, you need to always be polite and nice. Smile when you’re talking with people. Always treat people kindly. Don’t ever be rude or mean. A good girl is always polite and nice. A good girl is especially always polite and nice to her boyfriend. Be especially polite and especially nice to your boyfriend. Think of his desires, not your own. Try to make him happy if you can.”

Sarah nodded. This suggestion made sense to her. It was consistent with her self-conception of being a good girl.

On the next day I asked her out for a Saturday night date to a nice restaurant. “Dress up,” I told her. I decided to go all out. I dressed in my new dark suit with matching pants, jacket, and vest. I wore a white collar shirt under it. I got a red tie. I’d never owned a tie before. I worked through some Internet videos until I’d managed to tie it well. I combined the outfit with black socks and freshly-polished black dress shoes. This wasn’t my usual attire. I suspected it would match what a good girl thought her boyfriend would wear when dressed up.

When I picked her up, she was stunning. She was wearing a red sparkly dress with a hem a quarter of the way down her thighs. The top was held up with tied strings, and its deep scoop showed off her breasts. Her open-toed high stiletto heels were at least 3 inches high.

She stammered as she entered my car. She said, “I.. hope you like my outfit. I was a little conflicted about it. I wanted to dress up for you. It shows more of my body than I usually do. Does it show too much?”

“Nonsense! You look awesome. Dressing up for your boyfriend is a wonderful thing. It shows you care for me. It shows you have a good heart.”

She beamed with happiness from my approving words. She wanted to be good. Her boyfriend said she was good. This praise for being good made her deeply happy.

When I took her into the restaurant, the maître d’ almost had a heart attack. He did his best to not ogle her, while ogling her. We were quickly seated in the back of the restaurant. Several men who walked by us found reasons to walk by again. The waitress took our order. She made no comments. She had probably seen all sorts of outfits before. We did get disapproving stares from the older couple seated near us.

As we waited for our meal, the older couple stood up to leave. The woman walked over to us, turning to Sarah. “Young lady, you should be ashamed of yourself. You’re dressed like a whore. If you want to titillate your man, do that at home. Cover yourself up next time you go out.”

Sarah was startled. For a split second her face indicated she wanted to tell the lady off. She caught herself. She instead smiled and looked up at the lady. Sarah said, “Ma’am, I’m sorry that you don’t approve of my outfit. My boyfriend asked me to dress up. I did my best to dress up. I wanted to please him. I wanted to impress him. I do my best to be a good person, ma’am.”

The older man stepped forward to support his wife. “Young lady, this is a nice restaurant and what you’re wearing is inappropriate. If you want to dress for the red light district, go there.” The couple stared down at Sarah, whose scooped dress was showing off most of her tits to them. Sarah seemed concerned that the couple may have a point.

I was curious how Sarah would respond. Sarah was the model of politeness. She replied, “sir, I’m sorry that you’re offended by my dress. I assure you, I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I always try to do the right thing, sir. I simply wanted to make my boyfriend happy, sir.”

The couple walked off, annoyed by Sarah’s polite disagreement. Sarah seemed embarrassed by the couple’s protests, yet she had stayed perfectly polite throughout the discussion.

I said, “You were great, Sarah! That was a good job being polite in spite of their unreasonable words. Really good.”

“Thank you,” she responded. She was visibly relieved by my praise.

My girlfriend was now wearing skirts and dresses every day, with a hem at most halfway down her thighs. Her shapely freshly-shaved legs were a delight to see. She had started wearing higher heels at all times. She was showing more and more of her body to me. Her T-shirts had been replaced by blouses with scooped necks and cleavage. Dresses that emphasized her cleavage had become her favorite outfits to wear.

My girlfriend’s politeness and niceness only grew stronger. She was always nice and polite, even to the men who would wolfishly stare at her nubile form in the street. Even when she was being mildly humiliated, she remained calm and composed.

My girlfriend came over to my house almost ever day. I wasn’t fucking her like I wanted. We were still only at chaste kisses. I didn’t want to stay stuck there. I had plans.

In almost every evening I activated the black disk. I continued to emphasize her need to be my girlfriend. I also introduced and reinforced many other ideas in her head.

“You need to be respectful to your boyfriend. Treat him well. Don’t dismiss his ideas or his desires.”

“Uh huh,” she quietly agreed.

“Don’t be disagreeable with your boyfriend. Be agreeable with your boyfriend as much as you possibly can. If you disagree with your boyfriend, be scrupulously respectful, and find a way to compromise.”

“Yes,” she replied.

After two weeks, I decided to make my move. We watched a show at my house. I still couldn’t believe I owned a house, never mind one with a big screen and a comfortable couch. When the show was over I turned to her. It was time to see if the disk had done some magic.

“Sarah, I know you asked me to limit us to chaste kisses. I’d like to do more. Frankly, I want to do a lot more. Is there some agreement we can come to?”

I could practically see the gears turning in her head. In her mind, she was self-limiting herself so she’d be a good girl. Yet she knew she needed to be agreeable to her boyfriend.

“I… guess I could do a little more. How about more passionate kisses?”

“That sounds nice.”

We kissed. I introduced my tongue. She wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but she wanted to please her boyfriend. She submitted to it. I showed her what more passionate kisses were like. We kissed for ten minutes, with far more passionate kisses. Her blush was adorable. I finally released her.

I asked, “So, did you enjoy that?”

She couldn’t put words together, but eventually she nodded in agreement.

“Great! I look forward to more later. I’ll take you home now.”

She stood up, embarrassed. Why did I choose a girl with such absurdly limited boundaries? I guess the universe wanted a laugh. I wasn’t worried. I’d show the universe who would win.

My plans were beginning to unfold. I knew what I would do next.