Vivienne Gilbert had to fight with her entire being to keep a neutral expression as she waited in the conference room of her corporate HQ for her guests to arrive. Part of her—most of her—was so furious, it was all but impossible to keep her face darkening into a look of thunderous anger. All night, she’d been stewing in the kind of rage only shame could conjure up. Keeping a lid on it was a struggle, but it wouldn’t do to let her emotions show. For a woman of Vivienne’s station, there was no telling who might be watching.

Another part of her, though, the part Vivienne was straining most of all to keep suppressed, urged a broad, bright, dumb grin to dawn across her face. That part of Vivienne was sneaky. It ambushed her whenever she was distracted. Whenever she let her mind wander. Whenever a stray thought crossed her mind: a memory, a feeling, a mantra.

A name. That ridiculous name.

Vivienne was constantly trying to keep herself centered and calm, to rein in her anger, to take deep, measured breaths—but whenever she did, it was right there; that sticky, pink headspace, threatening to claim her once again. Vivienne felt like she was walking on a tightrope, and it was so damn hard to keep her balance.

Especially given what she was wearing.

So far, the best method Vivienne had found to keep herself under control was to focus on her imminent revenge. She’d spent a long, frenzied night making plans and dreaming up sordid, vengeful fantasies. That mindset had a matching facial expression too: a malicious, sadistic, superior smirk. While it wouldn’t do to tip off her intended victims, Vivienne didn’t mind letting that one show through from time to time.

It was the right look for a hypnogarch—and that was exactly what Vivienne was. A mind controller. A leader. A dominant. She wouldn’t forget it. And nor would anybody else.

“Ms. Gilbert,” one of her many brainwashed subordinates called out, opening the door a crack and sticking her head through. “Your guests have arrived. They’re on their way up.”

“Thank you.” Vivienne knew that her minions, at least, wouldn’t judge her for the way she looked. They weren’t capable of it. “Send them right in.”

“Yes, Ms. Gilbert.”

The door closed. Vivienne took a moment to arrange her face one last time, into a vacant, dull, entirely nonthreatening smile. She did her best not to think about how easy it was.

Then, no more than a minute later, the door to the conference room opened again. Melanie Adams stepped through.

Vivienne shivered at the sight of her pocket watch, worn around Mel’s neck like a pendant.

That aside, Vivienne was pleased to see that Mel seemed completely at ease and unguarded. If anything, she looked a touch smug. Already confident in her victory. That was part of Vivienne’s plan. She’d had her people invite Mel to the headquarters of Valeyard Solutions, her company, under the pretext of ‘talking business’. Probably, Mel assumed that Vivienne was going to cave and accept her parents’ offer, just like Mel had primed her to.

Everything was proceeding just as she’d planned.

“Hi, Vivi,” Mel greeted her, grinning. “You look great.”

Vivienne had to really try not to visibly shiver with treasonous pleasure at the name and the compliment.

The ridiculous outfit Vivienne was wearing was all part of her plan, of course. That was the reason she’d gotten dressed up in the pink, slutty, faux-business outfit Emma had bought for her the day before. The only reason. If she was wearing her normal clothes, Vivienne had reasoned, it might tip off Mel right away. It was just what she had to do.

But that didn’t make it any easier to deal with how it made her feel.

Vivienne pushed down on the feeling. This was her moment of triumph. Soon, all that would be behind her.

“Hello, Mel,” she said smoothly, once the door closed and locked behind the other woman. The look of surprise on Mel’s voice as she registered the focused, alert tone of Vivienne’s voice was a delicious reward. “I’m flattered you think so. But soon enough, I think you’ll find that you’ll be the one to… to…”

Vivienne’s words faded away as Emma, Mel’s pet bimbo girlfriend, stepped out from behind her owner.

A little whine slipped out from Vivienne’s throat. It was completely unfair how good Emma looked.

She looked like she had come straight from working out. The sway of her hips was what had Vivienne’s attention; Emma was wearing a pair of tiny yoga shorts—pink, naturally—stretched taut around her perfectly sculpted thighs. The way they looked on her made Vivienne throb with yearning. After a long—too long—moment, she made herself raise her eyes. Seeing that, on top, Emma was wearing nothing more than a sports bra stunned her all over again.

The irrepressible, giggling grin on her face and cute pink sweatband across her forehead completed the look. It was one Vivienne had seen over and over again on Emma’s OnlyFans. Night after night, time after time, touching herself to the gorgeous bimbo. Even now, Vivienne was struck by how utterly, blissfully happy she seemed.

“Well, where did I go wrong?” Mel asked smoothly. Vivienne cursed herself for giving her rival a chance to regain her balance. “I thought I had you.”

“Almost,” Vivienne snarled. Now the object of her ire was right in front of her, she could barely constrain her fury. “But you’re too much of an amateur. You shouldn’t have let me go home, Melanie. Never let a wild animal out of the trap.”

Mel simply nodded. “I guess I’ll have to remember that.”

"Oh, don’t trouble yourself!” Vivienne scoffed. “Soon, I’ll make sure you don’t remember anything at all. Not even your own name. You thought you were going to make me dumb, Mel? I promise you, you don’t even know the meaning of the word. Not yet.”

She’d hoped Mel would look scared. Instead, she simply seemed disappointed. Perhaps that was why her own boasting felt oddly hollow to Vivienne.

Emma, meanwhile, was completely unperturbed. She barely seemed to be paying attention. She was standing at Mel’s side and, as Vivienne watched, she began stretching out a little; first her arms, then her shoulders, then her back. There was something almost cat-like about her. She was completely at ease. Vivienne couldn’t help but marvel at it. She’d never been that relaxed anywhere, not even in the safety of her own home.

Except for yesterday, of course.

“So,” Mel ventured. “What happens now?”

Vivienne’s cheeks burned as she realized that, once again, she’d allowed herself to succumb to distraction.

“Now,” she said, rallying, “it’s very simple. I’m going to hypnotize you.”

Infuriatingly, Mel just smiled. “Didn’t you already try that?”

Vivienne’s hands balled into fists. Her knuckles turned white.

“That…” she spat. “That was… I was not at my best. This time, it will be different.”

“You’re at your best?” Mel shot back. “I see. Is that why you’re wearing… that?”

Vivienne had been prepared for a jab about her clothing. Being prepared didn’t help. It was all she could do to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together. Why did the embarrassment have to sing so sweetly in her ears?

“I… did what I had to do,” Vivienne said, making her voice carefully even. “Couldn’t have anyone tipping you off early.”

One thing Vivienne hadn’t been at all prepared for was the chill that raced down her spine when Mel looked her in the eyes and told her: “Bullshit.”

The CEO blinked dumbly for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think that’s why you wore that outfit.” Mel tilted her head, studying Vivienne. “I don’t think that’s the reason at all.”

Vivienne couldn’t hold her gaze. She looked away. “I… that isn’t…”

“Tell me.”

“I… you gave me this compulsion,” Vivienne attempted, seized with an irresistible urge to justify herself to Mel. “It was too distracting. I had to give in. Just for a moment. Just tactically, until I-“

“Bullshit,” Mel repeated. “Tell me.”

“I am!” Vivienne felt herself quake with Mel’s command. Since when did this trust fund brat hold so much power over her?

“Come on,” Mel needled. “Out with it, Vivi.”

Another shiver. “D-don’t call me that.”

“Then I suppose I’ll say it.” Mel was as calm as ever, and Vivienne couldn’t seem to find the strength to interrupt her. “You put that outfit on because you wanted to. Didn’t you? Because you like those clothes. Because they make you feel good.”

The hot breath of pleasure that washed over Vivienne was like nothing she’d ever felt before. “N-n-nooo,” she replied, but it came out more like a moan than a denial.

“Oh yes,” Mel told her. “You look great, by the way. Really cute.”

Vivienne was ready to bite back, but she paused when she registered the complete lack of condescension in Mel’s voice. Her rival was being completely sincere.

She looked cute?

That comment had Vivienne blushing deeper than ever before.

“You know,” Mel added softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Vivienne glanced up at her sharply. “What?”

“Hypnotize me, I mean,” Mel said. “You really don’t. It’s up to you.”

Vivienne tried to laugh. It wasn’t convincing. “Why wouldn’t I want to hypnotize you?”

Mel shrugged mysteriously. “Maybe you’ve had enough of fighting. Enough of struggling. Maybe you just want to relax and feel good, for a change.”

Goosebumps. All over Vivienne’s body. “That’s…”

“Wasn’t it nice?” Mel pressed. “Being Vivi, yesterday?”

Vivienne’s breath caught in her throat. That was one question she tried her hardest not to ask herself.

Because the answer was all too obvious. Yes. It had felt good. It had felt amazing.

“Yeah,” Vivienne whispered. The confession was a thrill.

“I see. Good!” Mel said brightly. She reached up to her neck and unclasped Vivienne’s pocket watch. “Well, if you do still want to hypnotize me, I suppose you’ll need this.”

She held it out, offering it back to its rightful owner. Vivienne just stared at it, dumbstruck. She should have been trying to figure out if the gesture was some kind of psychological trick. Instead, all she could think about was how heavy the pocket watch looked.

“Go on,” Mel urged.

Gingerly, Vivienne took it from her. It no longer felt right in her hand.

“Go ahead,” Mel said easily. “Take your best shot. Hypnotize me—if you can.”

“If… I can?” Vivienne’s voice had lost all of its cool, arrogant edge.

Hypnotize Mel? She wasn’t sure she could remember how to begin.

She was struggling to face up to how quickly she’d lost control of herself. Control of the conversation. She’d walked in here with a plan, Vivienne tried to remind herself. All she needed to do was remember it. Everything had seemed so clear. Her anger. Her purpose. What had happened to all that?

Vivienne already knew the answer. It was her. Emma.

Emma hadn’t spoken, but she was standing right there and Vivienne couldn’t keep herself from glancing at her. She was so hot. So happy. So dumb. So perfect. She radiated a kind of serene bimbo self-assurance that was all but magnetic. It was impossible not to wonder what was going on in her head, even though Vivienne already knew the answer: nothing.

She’d always wondered about that nothingness. How did it feel? What was it like to live that way? Now she knew, and she couldn’t forget. It was so tempting, it was right there, still lurking at the back of my mind, inviting her back into its blissful arms.

One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!

“You failed to hypnotize me before, Vivi,” Mel was saying. Not pointedly. Just stating an unavoidable fact. “Just like you failed to get a grip on your obsession with Emma. You still can’t stop looking at her. Just like you failed to resist dressing up this way this morning. You tried, didn’t you? But you just couldn’t help yourself.”

Without realizing what she was giving away, Vivienne nodded.

“Face it,” Mel insisted. That earlier moment of softness made her criticism hit all the harder. “You’re losing control.”

That sent a shiver through Vivienne. Mel was right, she knew. She was losing control. Losing the one thing she had always prized. She couldn’t tell if the thought horrified her or excited her more. She had to try and win it back.

Didn’t she?

“But I can tell you what nobody else will,” Mel continued. “That it’s OK. It’s OK to lose control, Vivienne. It’s OK that you’re not good enough. It’s OK that you can’t win.”

“I…” Vivienne couldn’t put a name to the way hearing that made her feel.

“It’s OK that you’re not good enough,” Mel repeated. Her voice was so soft. It was so easy to listen to her. “There can be other things for you, Vivi. Things that feel even better than winning. I’d love to show them to you.”

Once more, Vivienne couldn’t resist glancing at Emma.

She wanted to say ‘yes’ to Mel. She really did. There was no longer any point in denying the obvious. Vivienne wanted it. But still, for as much fun as it had been, she couldn’t quite bring herself to give in to her desires. Her pride, battered and bruised though it was, was still there, holding her back.

Her family name. Her long-held ambition. It was all she’d ever had. Vivienne couldn’t let it slip through her fingers just for the sake of something as vapid and silly as wanting to be like her favorite bimbo porn star.

Could she?

“I…” Vivienne made herself lift the pocket watch. Maybe once she began the induction, she’d find her rhythm again. She had to hope so. “That’s… not true. I’m going to beat you, Mel. And your parents. And I’ll climb all the way to the top, and… and…”

She trailed off. What was all this for, again?

And to her surprise, the person who spoke up next wasn’t Mel. It was Emma.

“Uh…” Emma ventured, her bimbo grin a little more nervous than usual as she looked at Vivienne. “Does this mean, like… we can’t go on any more shopping trips?”

That, more than anything else, left Vivienne feeling truly lost.

Mel was swift to seize on the open vulnerability she saw on Vivienne’s face. “That’s right, Emma,” Mel said. “That’s what Vivi wants. No more shopping trips. No more dress-up. No more Vivi.”

“Aww,” Emma pouted. “But it was so much fun!”

Vivienne whined.

“It was,” Mel agreed. “But you heard her! It’s over. No more hanging out, no more giggling, no more pink.” Sensing that the CEO had reached the threshold of her failing well, Mel looked straight at her. Daring her to agree. “Isn’t that right, Vivienne?”

No more pink…

Vivienne thought about the life she was proposing to go back to. Endless meetings. Endless reports. Endless watching her back. Always fixated on the next goal, on the next fiscal quarter, on the next rival to be subdued. The constant exhaustion that came from working fourteen-hour days every day and every week. If she took down Mel, even her one pleasure—looking at Emma’s OnlyFans and fantasizing—would be ruined.

No. She couldn’t do it again. Not for one more day. It was more than she could face.

“P-please…” Vivienne said quietly.

“What’s that, Vivi?” Mel prompted, smirking. The shiver that raced down Vivienne’s spine in that moment was better than anything she’d ever felt.

“Please.” Vivienne glanced at Emma. Her voice cracked. “Make me… like her.”

She closed her eyes, braced for crowing and mockery. Instead, all Mel said was: “Of course.”

Vivienne let out a shuddery breath. This was it. She’d given up. She’d been broken.

She didn’t regret it.

“But,” Mel added after a moment. “If you’re surrendering to me, it has to be willing. Right now, you’re the one with the power.” She gestured to the pocket watch Vivienne was holding. “You want to be brainwashed? Show me.”

Vivienne all but moaned as she realized what Mel was proposing. She was embarrassed, but not ashamed. Now that she’d taken the plunge, she could embrace submission with all her heart.

“Yes, Mel,” she said demurely, and dangled the pocket watch in front of her own face.

No motion was more familiar to Vivienne Gilbert than swinging a pocket watch. She had done it countless times, always bringing some chosen victim under her power. But she had never done it quite like this, with the watch’s face facing toward her, allowing her eyes to rest on the tip of the second hand as it ticked mechanically around the clock. Even so, it felt perfectly natural. Vivienne was able to relax and let her muscle memory do the work for her so that her mind could give all of itself into the object that started to swing steadily back and forth in front of her face.

Hypnosis. Self-hypnosis. What was the difference? Vivienne had hypnotized so many people. What was one more?

Vivienne took a long, deep breath and let herself focus, and unfocus. Let everything but the pocket watch fade into a pleasant, indistinct blur.

As she did, she couldn’t but imagine all the things she might say to a prospective subject in her position. She might suggest that they could already feel themselves being tugged under by trance’s irresistible pull in all kinds of small ways. And Vivienne could—it was right there, after all, the part of her that made it seem like it would be so easy to just give up and be Vivi. She might hint that their thoughts were turning slow, sluggish—and hers were. It was such a relief, to not need to think. To not be able to. To just be dumb. She might tell them that following motion with your eyes was as natural as instincts got, and impossible to fight. And that was certainly true for Vivienne.

She couldn’t fight. She didn’t want to fight.

Thank goodness.

Vivienne quickly found that her own expertise in hypnosis became her undoing. Even if she’d wanted to struggle against it, she couldn’t help but find the way her own mind succumbed to the process irresistibly fascinating. She was so perfectly aware of how, exactly, it worked; of the way the second hand’s ticking served as just the right kind of distraction to keep her conscious thoughts preoccupied while her subconscious mind settled into a relaxed stupor, open and vulnerable. She could feel it through her entire body, in the way her heart beat and the way her muscles let go of their tension. Vivienne recognized it for what it was.

Submission.

It was so good. It was so hot.

Within just a couple of minutes, Vivienne was left at the cusp. Her eyelids drooped, held open only by her need to keep staring at the pocket watch. Her mind had become so weak and so slow, she couldn’t form a single clear thought. She was ready to let someone else take control. Ready to let another voice fill her head and tell her what to think. What to be.

And Mel was right there.

“Good girl, Vivi,” Mel said, perhaps sensing Vivienne’s need for a guiding hand. The CEO shivered at the name. “Just keep looking. Keep swinging. Keep breathing. That’s all you have to do.”

Her careful emphasis filled Vivienne with warmth. It was all she had to do. Look. Swing. Breathe. No more. No longer.

“Even you can manage that, can’t you?” Mel teased. “You might not be able to beat me. You might not be able to control yourself. But even you can stare at a silly little pocket watch.”

Her teasing should have raised Vivienne’s choler. Instead, it was a comfort. Mel was right. She wasn’t good enough to be a CEO. Not good enough to be Vivienne Gilbert. She couldn’t make it in that life.

She was only good enough to be Vivi.

“It feels good,” Mel continued, voice dripping with affirming condescension. “Doesn’t it? Getting dumb for the watch. Getting dumb for me.”

Vivi nodded.

“So dumb,” Mel soothed. “You don’t need to think about anything. Don’t need to remember anything. Isn’t that right?”

Vivi nodded again. A wide, dull smile was coming to her slack face.

“Soon,” Mel promised, “you’ll be just like Emma.”

Just like Emma. Vivi sighed happily at the mere thought.

“You already look like her, after all,” Mel laughed. “Pretty in pink. Cute. Adorable, really. You two are like peas in a pod.”

Vivi shivered.

“I bet you can giggle just like her,” Mel encouraged. “Can’t you? Try it for me.”

Obediently, Vivi giggled.

“Good girl.” She giggled again at the praise. “Doesn’t it feel good? Giggling like that.”

It did. It really did.

“You’re not a serious person anymore,” Mel told her. “Not scary. Not powerful. Not smart. Nobody is going to take you seriously anymore. You’re just a silly, giggly bimbo.”

Another giggle. Vivi had never felt so relaxed. The things Mel promised were exactly what her fantasies were made of.

“That’s right,” Mel pressed. “It comes naturally to you, doesn’t it? The more you giggle, the dumber you get. The dumber you get, the more you giggle.”

That was an easy little mantra for Vivi to keep in her head. It was so simple and so stereotypical that, at once, it held the bimbo completely within its power.

She giggled, and felt herself grow even more relaxed and air-headed. It was perfect.

“That’s right,” Mel laughed. “Just like that. Very good. Try again.”

Vivi giggled—and then moaned, as she felt her long-prized sharpness and intelligence slip even further out of her grasp.

She wondered what her employees and rivals might think of her if they saw her like this. Giggling, plainly entranced, and dressed in slutty, glorious, ridiculous pink.

Mel was right. Nobody was going to take her seriously anymore. Fuck, it was such a relief. Such a turn-on.

She giggled again. She got dumber again. She loved it.

“Excellent,” Mel praised. “I think you’re almost ready, Vivi. But before you get too dumb, there’s just one more thing I need you to do for me.”

When Mel reached out and plucked the pocket watch from Vivi’s fingers for the very last time, the hypnotized woman blinked in surprise and confusion. She looked blearily to her new mistress for answers.

“I had the papers drawn up last night,” Mel said to her. “Emma?”

Emma reached into her bag and pulled out a slim, plastic envelope. She handed it over to Mel, who pulled out the sheets of paper within. She set them down on the conference room table, along with a pen.

“Here.”

Vivi glanced at the papers. She could barely make her eyes focus, and she certainly couldn’t make sense of some of the longer words, but enough of it jumped out to her for her to get the gist of it.

This was a contract. A very simple one, in fact. It was for her to turn over her ownership of Valeyard Solutions to Melanie Adams and her family’s holding corporation.

Slowly, Vivi picked up the pen. Dimly, she was aware of what signing the contract would mean. Her life’s work, gone in a moment. The source of all her wealth and prestige, thrown away. For any would-be hypnogarch, it was the ultimate, irretrievable defeat.

For a brief moment, the sheer enormity of that seemed to exert a tidal pull on Vivi, threatening to drag her kicking and screaming back to wakefulness. Was this really what she wanted?

Then the moment passed, and she giggled.

What was Vivi going to do with a whole company, anyway? She was just a ditzy little bimbo.

“Yes, Mel” she said blankly, shivering as she gave in to her ultimate fantasy. She picked up the pen and, guided only by muscle memory, signed the name ‘Vivienne Yvette Gilbert’ on the dotted line.

All gone. And with it, all that remained of Vivi’s old identity.

“Good girl,” Mel told her, although it was clear the other woman could barely contain her celebratory laughter. “Very, very good. I’m proud of you.”

Vivi giggled happily. Mel was proud of her! That was all that mattered—and that was so blissfully simple.

“Time to take you down the rest of the way,” Mel said. “Don’t worry. I promise, you won’t remember a thing.”

She reached out and touched the tip of her finger to Vivi’s forehead. As if by magic, Vivi’s mind became still. Then Mel stroked her hand down Vivi’s face in a hypnotic gesture that, somehow, pulled Vivi’s eyes shut.

“Go to sleep, Vivi.”

***

A little less than two weeks later, Mel found herself sitting in that same conference room, wearing the kind of neat, tight-fitting, eye-wateringly expensive suit she’d spent most of her life resisting being put in. But for some occasions, it was a necessity; as the new president of Valeyard Solutions, she’d been taking a conference call with some of the company’s investors and partners in order to reassure them about its new leadership.

Apparently, she’d acquitted herself well. Although Mel was sure it had helped that her mothers, two of the city’s most powerful hypnogarchs, were now among those investors and partners.

Now, after terminating the call, Mel was taking the time to sign off on a few things that one of Valeyard’s many identical, brainwashed secretaries had brought for her approval. The hypnotized women staffing the executive floors were certainly efficient, albeit, Mel thought, a little dreary. She was considering a change in official color scheme.

“I think that’s all of it,” Mel announced, as she put her signature on the last form. “Thank you.”

“Yes, Ms. Adams,” the secretary said, more than a little robotically. She picked up the slab of paperwork.

Then, Mel twitched abruptly.

“Ms. Adams?” the secretary asked, her face blank. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Mel said quickly, a slight blush filling her cheeks. “Completely. You can, um, go now.”

“Yes, Ms. Adams,” the secretary said, nodding her head. Obediently, she turned and started walking away—just quickly enough that she didn’t see Mel twitch again.

After what felt like an eternity, the secretary stepped out of the conference room and let the heavy door fall closed behind her. At once, Mel let out a huge, panted, pleasure-filled breath that made her whole body heave.

“G-god,” she moaned, looking down under the conference table. “I didn’t think you’d make it that hard to keep quiet!”

After much giggling, out from under the table crawled Emma and Vivi.

“Sorry!” Emma tittered. Her face was dripping with pussy. “It turns out Vivi is just, like, a super quick learner when it comes to eating you out!”

“Um,” Vivi giggled, blushing from the praise. Her face was dripping too. “I dunno about being, um, a quick learner, or whatever. I’m just a dummy!”

“No, no,” Mel told her. “I think Emma’s right. You really hit the, ah, spot, just now.”

Emma and Vivi turned to each other and embraced, giggling and blushing as hopelessly as schoolgirls.

To look at her now, almost nobody would have recognized Vivi, corporate bimbo, as Vivienne Gilbert. The makeover Mel and Emma had given her was total. To see that the girlish, giggling figure kneeling before Mel was once the woman who had once made headlines as a corporate conqueror, you would have to look past her bleached blonde hair, her frivolous, absent-minded demeanor, and the layers and layers of heavy makeup that gave her sweeping eyeliner, glittery cheeks, and pink, thick, pouty lips.

And, of course, there was her outfit. Mel had enjoyed Vivi dressing like a secretary so much, she had decided to make that the cornerstone of her newest bimbo’s new aesthetic. In fact, Vivi was now dressed in almost exactly the same uniform as her former employees—with just a few small but all-important changes. It was all pink, naturally, and the blouse was cut lower, and the skirt, much, much higher. All the better to show off Vivi’s body, which—thanks to Emma’s workouts—had never looked better.

Plenty of bright pink exercise gear had also made it into Vivi’s new wardrobe. It was only fitting, for Emma’s new OnlyFans co-star.

Mel smiled as she thought about some of the collab videos the two of them had made. Yes, this life suited Vivi much, much better than corporate leadership ever had.

“Come on, girls,” Mel chided, voice sultry. She spread her legs. “I said you were doing a good job. I didn’t say the job was finished.”

“Yes, Mel!” chorused her bimbos, and dove back to their knees.

Greedy for pleasure, Mel moaned as she felt their tongues against her sex as the two of them pressed themselves between her thighs, jockeying for position.

She couldn’t help it. They were so damn hot, and they’d been getting her worked up all through that meeting.

That was most of Vivi’s new job. She appeared with Emma on OnlyFans sometimes, but most of her days were spent at the office with Mel, serving as her personal assistant—at least, of a kind. She no longer had much capacity for organization, but she was terrific for morale. Quite the little boardroom cheerleader. Vivi had taken to her new role like a duck to water, without the slightest hint of reservation or regret.

It helped, of course, that she no longer remembered anything of who she’d used to be. Mel had made sure of that. Vivi was much, much happier without all of that baggage.

“Oh yeah,” Mel purred, as Vivi buried her tongue deep inside her cunt. “Right there.”

She wasn’t sure if it was Vivi being a quick learner or Emma being a good teacher, but either way, her new pet was quickly learning all the best ways to satisfy Mel. Now, as she lapped eagerly at her owner, Vivi kept glancing up, eyes fogged over with lust and gratification, so she could check on Mel’s responses.

“Good job!” Emma tittered, pulling back from a moment. “But don’t forget about…”

Mel’s moans turned throaty, desperate, as Emma surged forward and planted her lips on her clit, sucking and teasing eagerly.

“F-fuck!” Mel squealed, writhing as she stained the leather of her expensive, executive chair with her wetness.

“Wow,” Vivi giggled. “You’re, like, so smart, Emma.”

All three of them giggled as one.

Then, Emma joined her fellow bimbo, and suddenly Mel had both of them fighting to make her feel good, licking at her clit, clinging to her thighs, breathing and lapping against her sensitive skin. After hours of being forced to stifle her moans and her pleasure, it was more than she could take.

“Fuck!” she moaned again. “Oh my god, yes! Just like that, good girls. That’s perfect! I’m-“

“And now,” Emma giggled, pulling back on Vivi’s shoulder, “just like… stop for a moment.”

Emma couldn’t keep a lid on her whine of disappointment as both of them drew back.

“Hey!” she protested. “What are you doing?”

“See,” Emma stage-whispered to Vivi, while they both giggled. “She’s mad at me… but she’s totally gonna cum her brains out if you tease her like that a few times.”

“I told you to finish the job!” Mel complained, a big smile on her face. “That means you’re meant to get me off right away, babe.”

“Sorry, Mel!” Emma sang, before putting the prettiest, most perfect pout Mel had ever seen on her face. “I guess I was just, like, a little too dumb to know that.”

For a moment, Mel was stunned by her cheek. Then she rolled her eyes and started laughing.

“Oh my god,” she howled. “You know I’m going to have to punish you for teaching Vivi your bad habits, right?”

Emma just batted her eyelashes. “I sure hope so, mistress.”

Her lusty, submissive tone immediately lit a fire within Mel. “You,” she said, beckoning Emma up toward her. “Come here. And you?” She glanced down at Vivi. “Get back to work.”

Before Vivi could reply, Mel wrapped a hand in her hair and forced the bimbo secretary back into her cunt.

She moaned again when, immediately, obediently, Vivi pushed her tongue back into Mel’s cunt, working her back toward orgasm just as Emma had taught her. Emma, meanwhile, rose unsteadily to her feet before Mel grabbed her waist and pulled her against her. The bimbo slumped across Mel’s lap, and her owner pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

“You know,” Mel panted, after they broke off. “I still owe you a proper thanks.”

“A proper, um, thanks?” Emma echoed, confused. “For what?”

“For her.” Mel indicated down at Vivi. When Emma still looked confused, she went on: “I couldn’t have done it without you, babe. Seriously. I may be a hypnotist, but you? You lured her in. You helped me figure out the perfect way to get into her head. You made that video. You tempted her. You made her want it. It’s all thanks to you.”

“Awww!” Emma melted against her lover, turning a brighter shade of pink than ever. “Mel, that’s, um, wow! I, like, don’t even know what to say.”

“I love that you’re too dumb not to set me up like that.” Mel winked, although the playful gesture was somewhat spoiled by the way she kept panting and rolling her hips as Vivi ate her out. “Cause, actually, I was hoping you’d say…”

Mel slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a small case. She opened it, to reveal an engagement ring.

Emma’s squeal of delight drowned out even the obscene sounds coming from between Mel’s legs.

“Now that we have another bimbo in our life, I want to make it clear just how important you are to me,” Mel explained, staring lovingly at her girlfriend. “Plus, I’ve actually been thinking a lot about her. About how unhappy Vivienne was. I… may be going down the same road in life, but I don’t want to end up in the same place. I think having you by my side is going to make sure that doesn’t happen. You make me happy, darling.”

Emma was all but tearing up as she stared at the ring. She kept giggling, then sniffling, then clasping her hands over her face.

“So…” Mel prompted eventually, once she couldn’t bear the tension.

“Yes! Obviously!” Emma erupted, throwing her arms around Mel. “I love you!”

“I love you too.”

Emma pulled back, and the two of them kissed once more.

“You know,” Mel said roguishly after they broke off, as she slipped the ring onto Emma’s finger, “it might be a lot of work, but there are a few perks to being the boss of this whole place.”

“Oh yeah?”

“For example.” As she spoke, Mel slid her hand down Emma’s body, resting it briefly on her waist. Her hips. Her ass. “If I want to take the rest of the day off, nobody can stop me.”

“You’re so smart, Mel,” Emma giggled. “And you, like, owe me that punishment!”

“Right,” Mel laughed—then moaned, as Vivi attacked her clit again. “B-but you better be careful, babe. Soon enough, Vivi here will be giving you a run for your money.”

The bimbo between her legs giggled proudly, the sound muffled by Mel’s body.

“Nuh-uh!” Emma retorted huffily and slid her way out of Mel’s lap. She elbowed Vivi out of the way, and pressed her face against her new fiancée’s cunt, eager to prove her prowess.

It was just as Mel had intended. As the two perfectly sculpted bimbos started competing for her favor, fiercely but amicably, all she needed to do was sit back in her comfortable executive chair, relax, and enjoy the waves of pleasure that carried her to orgasm.

Maybe becoming a hypnogarch wasn’t such a bad idea after all.