It was Christmas. With a glass of festive champagne in her hand, Agatha Avery gazed out of the high floor of the company building she’d worked at for half a decade. Her shoulders slumped underneath her suit blazer a few tax brackets cheaper than her contemporaries around her, and she looked out to the skyline below with a gloomy disposition.

Where the fuck had she gone wrong in her life?

Agatha was tired. Beyond tired. She’d applied to this job because she was qualified, yes, but mostly because she wanted the money. Something to invest in for a grander old age. But five long years later, she was wondering if that old age would ever come. It felt as if her soul was being drained from her to keep the company alive.

Somehow, with how high the staff turnover rate was, she’d found herself in a coordinator position. Normally she’d thought this would be a great thing considering the pay rise, but what she hadn’t realised was that the look behind the curtains and greater exposure to office politicking was akin to gazing upon an otherworldly tome of eldritch magic. Which was to say, maddening.

Every month she’d have to let one of her staff members know they’d been let go without warning or appeal. Every week, she’d receive emails urging her to crack down on people to fulfil their actions per minute, to reprimand people who talked outside of break times, especially those who talked with each other about their pay. And every day, she felt more and more of her life slipping through her fingers, like the long and silken hair of a love about to be lost.

She had no friends, an unfortunate number of enemies, apathetic and dispirited colleagues, and the book she’d been hoping to write in her spare time was still waiting for that spare time to come. Not to mention she’d started drinking a lot more, which was starting to become a problem. At least, according to the therapist she’d had to stop seeing due to her work responsibilities.

With a heavy sigh, she knew; she had to quit.

Downing the last of her champagne with all the grace of a pelican with a stuffed beak, Agatha pulled out her phone and began texting one of her fellow co-ords that wasn’t attending this stupid department Christmas party to be a reference for her next resume.

It seemed most people weren’t too keen to be at this party anyway, what with how many people seemed to be ducking out of the main room at any given time in a constant rotation. She’d been voluntold by her own department to attend this lifeless department mixer shindig anyhow, as she – through soulless perseverance – was the most senior member of her immediate coworkers. Thus she had an obligation to come here and “have fun.”

The result was that she had no idea who any of these people were, and her attempts to socialise were met with bemused stares and backhanded compliments. Not that they seemed to be any deeper than a muddy creek anyhow. What was it about money that seemed to rip the humanity from these people?

Agatha gave the side-eye to another pair of tittering colleagues who left a side room, looking visibly dishevelled. She supposed that PDA was to be expected at a Christmas party, so she at least knew these people had some personality left.

As she was contemplating grabbing another glass before she left this stupid party, Agatha heard footsteps crossing the carpet towards her. Looking over her shoulder she saw this person was tall, a good deal taller than her actually. She was obviously wealthy from the look of her clothes and jewellery, but at least she had the decency to not be so ostentatious about it. Light glinted off her thin ovoid glasses, and her own delicate champagne flute contained not wine but sparkling water. She looked like she fit right in with a bunch of executives who’d consider a parking ticket just how much it cost to park their car.

Though the red streak in her hair hinted to Agatha that she might be at least a little more down to earth. Maybe someone she could actually have a halfway decent conversation with? She dared to hope.

‘I don’t believe we’ve met,’ the new woman began in a voice that signalled curiosity, but hinted at judgement, ‘Which department are you from?’

‘Pay Team and Administration,’ Agatha sighed, ‘Though not for long. Don’t tell my manager Caroline, but I’m planning on handing in my two weeks notice as soon as I’ve had enough of the free champagne here.’

The woman with the red streak gave a droll chuckle, ‘Really? Not uncommon to hear of, though I’m surprised you’d be so forward about it.’

Agatha scoffed, maybe a little louder than she’d intended, ‘I’m surprised more people aren’t complaining at how people are managing this shitshow. I get emails every week telling me to get people to stop discussing their pay rates,’ she threw her hands in the air for effect, ‘I work for the pay team! That’s literally in the job description of my entire department! Besides, it’s not my responsibility to police what people do on their breaks. I’m already unpopular enough as it is.’

‘It doesn’t seem so unreasonable; it is pretty obviously specified in the employee NDAs under company policy. It is also illegal at the end of the day, you know,’ she said with a hint of smugness.

‘If the only penalty is a fine, then it’s exclusively illegal for the poor,’ Agatha snorted before setting down her glass on a side table, ‘Most of the people working for this company aren’t exactly being paid what they’re worth either. Trust me, I would know.’

The woman gave a thin smile, ‘Trust me, I have a very good idea of what people are worth.’

A sudden chill tickled at the back of Agatha’s neck. Something was up. Something was subtly, terribly up.

‘M-maybe I should go…’ Agatha began, but the woman caught her wrist as she turned to leave.

‘What’s the rush? Maybe you just need a little more of the “holiday spirit” to enjoy yourself?’

Agatha looked incredulously at the woman with the red streak in her hair. What the hell was she doing? She was worried that they were starting to make a scene. Agatha heard a muffled chuckle and her eyes darted to the source. People were staring at her, a few subtly pointing in their direction to their friends. More than a few seemed to be grinning expectantly. Predatorily.

Fear crept under Agatha’s ribcage as she turned back to the woman.

‘Who are you?’

‘About time you asked,’ she laughed, ‘No wonder you’re in the pay team. You’re far too rude for customer service. You may call me M.’

M … why did that sound familiar?

Agatha almost shit herself at the realisation. In the rare event the CEO would send any email, they would often sign it only as M.

Fuck. She was in it deep now. But at least she was already planning on quitting. What’s the worst she could do, fire her?

‘I … um, sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude-’ Agatha began, only for M to cut her off.

‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,’ she said in a voice like artificial sweetener; bitter in the aftertaste, ‘Why don’t we go … talk things out? I’m sure I could help you reconsider a few things about your position in my company. We wouldn’t want you to do anything rash, now would we?’

M hadn’t relented her grip on Agatha’s wrist. While she was sure she could try to wrench her arm away, she didn’t want to make any more of a scene than she’d already done. Her panicked eyes glanced around the room. Fuck, people were laughing at her!

Agatha felt hot red flushing through her skin. She had to get out of this room, and having a gut-wrenching but hopefully honest conversation with the CEO couldn’t be any worse than whatever was happening now.

‘Um … sure. Lead the way.’

M grinned, like a cat who’d just caught a bird. Without another word, M began sauntering back through the room with Agatha in tow, eyes from onlookers lingering upon them far too long for her liking. Agatha felt like she was burning alive, but tried to keep a straight face. She was not good at being the centre of attention.

She wasn’t quite sure where M was leading her, but it was definitely far away from the party. By the time they’d arrived at the elevator the sinking feeling in her chest welled deeper. Were they going to go all the way to M’s office on the top floor?

Agatha tried to calm herself. It was just an office. Whatever M was trying to accomplish by dragging her into the seat of her power, it was all theatrics.

‘Your breathing’s tense. Are you worried?’ M’s words cut through Agatha’s thoughts near the apex of their ascent.

Agatha swallowed hard. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t know, but Agatha knew she was a bit of an open book when it came to her inner thoughts.

‘A little, yes,’ she said diplomatically, trying to avoid eye contact. She’d always been told it was rude to stare.

‘Good,’ M’s voice and demeanour swiftly changed, ‘You should be.’

Before Agatha could protest the elevator doors opened and M shoved her through, following through behind her.

Agatha tried to keep her balance, but between the unfamiliar heels she’d bought second-hand for the occasion and the few glasses of champagne she’d had to calm her nerves, she felt the carpet burn against her hands and the wind rush from her lungs as she hit the ground hard.

As she tried to cough and breathe again Agatha heard M laughing above her. At her. For something as stupid as just falling over!

‘My god, you are hopeless!’ she laughed, mockingly genuine.

Agatha felt anger seeping through her gritted teeth as she tried to get up.

Only for a stiletto heel to be planted between her shoulderblades, forcing her back down.

‘I didn’t give you permission to get up.’

Agatha tried to look at M, entirely outraged, but struggled to even look past her pencil skirt from her position forced to the floor.

She tried to force words out of her mouth, seething in indignity.

‘Let me go.’

Agatha winced as she felt the heel digging further into her back as M leaned down and dropped the tone of her voice low.

‘Do you have any idea how much of an embarrassment you caused me even attending that event? You obviously weren’t meant to be there, so people were constantly asking me just who you were supposed to be. Or were you too oblivious to notice how annoying you were being, sticking your nose where it didn’t belong?’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Agatha spat, ‘I didn’t even want to come to this Christmas party! No one else from my team wanted to come to this either, so I had to!’

Agatha gave a sharp grunt as M dug her heel further between her shoulders, before letting up just a little.

M gave a clipped laugh as a thought occurred to her, ‘Did you, perhaps, confuse AM and PM?’

Agatha narrowed her eyes. No, that’d be too stupid, she-

Fuck, she thought, she had only skimmed the email. She had seen it was a 9am party, but she thought it had been a typo. What kind of workplace – especially one with this strict a working policy – would have a Christmas party at the very start of the working day?!

‘I take it from your silence that you did,’ M said, her tone smug and accusatory.

Anger choked her throat before she felt M lift her heel off her back.

‘Get up. We’re almost at my office, so don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. You’ve wasted enough of my precious time already.’

Agatha felt wounded, but she begrudgingly stood. M left the door open as she strode through, permitting Agatha to follow. M sat heavily in the polished leather desk chair and opened a laptop on her wide walnut desk, the light from it bouncing off the floor-to-ceiling windows though leaving the reflection of the screen illegible.

M paused only to glare daggers at Agatha.

‘Sit down. I don’t want to hear you speak unless you’re spoken to.’

Agatha felt a knot twisting in her stomach as she followed M’s instruction. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She just got assaulted by this woman, and now she was going to get chewed out by her?

She tried not to gnash her teeth into powder as she settled into the chair.

M tapped at the keys at her laptop for a moment before looking at Agatha over her glasses, ‘Tell me your name.’

Agatha sighed through her nose, ‘Agatha Avery.’

M’s face made a wry smirk, ‘Alliterative. Did you come up with it all by yourself or were your parents just cruel?’

‘Myself, actually,’ Agatha said with as stern a look as she could manage, ‘I changed my name after my transition. I hope you’re not too embarrassed to have a trans woman on your payroll.’

M gave her an indecipherable look, but made no comment. After tapping at her keyboard some more, she leaned back into her chair.

‘Perfect. Everything’s right here. So you’ve already worked for my company for let’s see … only five years?’

Agatha gave a confirmation, though half a decade of her life didn’t feel like an “only” kind of situation, especially considering her role.

‘Sounds like if you had any self-respect, you’d be trying to keep that role.’

Agatha glowered to try and keep herself from being flustered, but didn’t say anything. From the choking feeling in her throat, she’d probably be spending the rest of the night sobbing into the first bottle she could grab once she’d gotten home.

‘So,’ M began, ‘How do you expect to repay me for the embarrassment you’ve caused me?’

‘Excuse me?’

What? She wanted Agatha to pay her back for accidentally showing up at the wrong party? Just how petty was this woman?

‘I know I spoke clearly so you must have heard me, so I'll take it that you're just simple,’ M scolded, ‘Fine, I’ll repeat myself. A little slower this time, so you can understand me. How will you pay me back for making a scene at my own party, which you crashed?’

‘I … that’s not my problem!’ Agatha snapped, ‘I just made a mistake, can’t you live with that? It’s not like I’ve cost you anything!’

‘You think this is about money? Please. I have enough that I could buy everything you own twice over. My problem is that you’re just expecting to walk away as if nothing happened. How fucking conceited,’ M spat before a cruel smile spread across her face, ‘Well, I can certainly accommodate you if that's what you want.’

Agatha cocked an eyebrow as M turned her laptop around, keeping her index finger on the “enter" button.

She saw her entire work history with the company, all five years of records, what accomplishments and promotions she’d been given, and her official positions. But imposed over all of them was a dialogue window, with the “Yes” button selected.

Delete Record? Warning! this action is irreversible!

Eyes shooting wide, Agatha looked back at M.

‘If you really want to just walk away, I’ll let you. It’ll be just like you never worked here. No reference or experience since you’ll have no official record of your employment,’ M said darkly, ‘I wonder how you’ll feel tomorrow, once the champagne wears off, realising how you’ve wasted all that time? How you so stupidly threw away five years of your life, for the sake of your pathetic pride.’

Horror melted Agatha’s face. She stared at the screen in disbelief, eyes flickering back to M, her implacable smile seeming to grow wider at Agatha's mounting distress.

‘Y-you can’t do this!’

‘Don’t presume you can tell me what to do, idiot,’ M said, gently flexing her finger and lightly depressing the “enter” button.

Agatha’s pulse spiked in fear, M suddenly lifting her finger away from the button before gently placing it back. The dialogue box remained on the screen.

‘Perhaps now you’ll be a little more careful with your words.’

Trying to swallow a sea of fear, Agatha realised how panicked her breathing was. This whole situation was fucked. What the hell was she going to do?

‘What … what do you want?’ Agatha said meekly.

‘I would have thought that was obvious. Clearly you’re stupider than I initially thought,’ M spat, another verbal barb going through Agatha’s diaphragm, ‘But since you recognise you don’t really have agency in this conversation any more, I’ll tell you. Aren’t I nice for that?’

M turned the computer back to face her.

‘What I would like more than anything else in the world is to spend more time with my fiancé. I’ve been avoiding the urge to get an assistant until now, but it might be time for a small present to myself. It’s Christmas after all.’

Agatha blinked rapidly. A promotion? She was getting a promotion after all this? That couldn’t be what was happening.

Her train of thought was distracted by the sound of a printer at M’s side surging to life, lightly startling her. It seemed like every single discomfort Agatha felt just made M all the more ready to take a bite out of her throat, as her teeth were bared in a seething grin.

M ripped the printed document out of its tray and pushed it in front of Agatha, the pages still warm from the machine.

‘I’m willing to try you on as my PA, maybe for a few months. If you satisfy me, then maybe I’ll let you go with no hard feelings. But if you can’t impress me, well … I’m sure you don’t need reminding,’ M stated bluntly.

Hands trembling slightly, Agatha leafed through the document she’d been given. It was a fairly standard employment contract, inclusive of NDAs and privacy statements. But considering how she’d gotten into this mess, Agatha was sure to read it closer.

‘Most of your duties are detailed in the contract, though you’ll be required to fulfil some off-the-record responsibilities as well,’ M explained, her words only making the stone in Agatha’s stomach heavier, ‘Namely, you’ll be keeping your mouth shut about whatever you see at parties like the one you were just attending.’

Agatha’s head tilted. That absolutely sounded sketchy and unethical, but from what she saw at the party it had been all boring and above board. But that meant that something had to have been going on under the surface. Typical for rich people parties, she supposed.

Thank goodness she hadn’t really been paying attention.

‘You’ll also,’ M continued with a grin, ‘Allow yourself to be subjected to hypnosis and be under the control of my suggestions for the duration of your employment.’

She shot M an incredulous look. She was more than familiar with hypnosis already, but that was all for the sake of eroticism. It was insane to think that was what M was planning for this arrangement. Unless…

Agatha felt a deep well of disgust bore through the stone in her gut. Fucking rich people. Of course she was just meat to her.

She couldn’t help but hold the contract tighter in barely contained frustration, creasing the paper. M, having watched her like a hawk, didn’t allow this detail to escape her.

‘So you understand the concept. Judging from your reaction I’d say you’re rather intimately familiar, am I right?’

Unable to hide her baulking, Agatha felt her pulse thudding in her ears as her eyes flashed between the pages and M’s smug face.

‘I … you … this-’

M ignored Agatha’s disbelief as she spoke over her babbling, ‘And while we're on the subject, though I have ample opportunity to find relief for my needs, I’ll be sure to find a much more worthwhile use for that mouth of yours than hearing your pathetic bitching.’

A single question clarified in Agatha’s mind through all other thoughts, which she let slip from her mouth as she slowly looked up at M and held her stare.

‘Why are you doing this?’

M leaned forward, not breaking eye contact, ‘Because I can. Because you embarrassed me in front of my peers, and thought you wouldn’t face any consequences for it. Because you had the audacity to even think you were close to being my equal,’ she hissed, ‘I’ve given you a choice. You can leave having wasted five years of your pathetic life, or you can sign the paper and have a chance to beg for my forgiveness. I have done much, much worse for less.’

To emphasise the point, M deposited a fountain pen atop the document in Agatha’s hand. The dull phut sounding to Agatha more like the fall of the first shovelful of grave soil atop her casket. Agatha couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pen. 

This … this was insane. She was being blackmailed with what was essentially her entire real work experience to be, what, some kind of hypnotised fuckpet to this psychotic businesswoman? Even so if she refused she was back to square negative zero. It was impossible to find any kind of work in this city that didn’t need years of experience, unless it was working cafés or – she involuntarily twitched at the thought – pizza delivery.

Agatha felt furious. She was terrified. She couldn't hope to believe what was happening.

She uncapped the pen.

Each word she read felt like another nail scraping against her skin. Like a monstrous tongue drinking in her fear through the sweat on her brow. Her entire body felt like it was rejecting her entire existence as she put the tip of the pen, black ink seeping into the paper as she wrote her name on the dotted line, the pigment feeling like it was staining her very soul.

A moment later, it was done.

‘Good,’ M said, her lips curled into the cruellest smile Agatha had seen, ‘And just so you know, most people who displease me aren't so lucky as to get this choice. You might just happen to be more useful to me as a disposable fucksleeve than as an empty void where a person used to be.’

M lifted the document away from Agatha, opening a blank Manila folder and gently sliding it inside, before depositing it into a desk drawer and locking it shut.

‘Now then, why don't we get started on your induction into your new position?’

Agatha was immediately taken aback. What, right now?

M stood up from her chair, the sudden force of her presence feeling like it was forcing Agatha further into hers. Everything from her ferocious mien to her body language exuded a paralysing energy that held her body still.

Agatha looked up at M, the corners of her mouth twisted upwards as she stared down at her prey.

‘There are a few rules which you will follow to the letter,’ M enunciated, ‘First and foremost, is that you will look me in the eyes while I am speaking.’

Agatha felt her eyes slowly meet M’s. It was like staring into the face of Medusa. Light from the overhead bulbs haloed her head, making Agatha’s eyes weep at the corners. She had to be strong. Whatever this psycho did to her head, she could undo herself after she got out of here. She just had to be strong. She could endure this.

Feeling the cold touch of M’s hand beginning to run across the underside of her jaw, Agatha nearly flinched out of her skin.

‘Don’t you dare look away,’ M hissed, ‘I can promise it will be much worse for you if you do. But why not, since you seem to be in the mood for making terrible decisions tonight? Go on, see what happens.’

Agatha’s breath convulsed behind her tonsils, trying not to break her stare. That was obviously a trick. This was an absurd situation, but she didn’t have to make it worse by antagonising M any further.

‘But you-’

It was only as she saw the tug at the corners of M’s lips and felt her hand lift away that she knew she’d chosen wrong.

She felt M’s hand crash across her cheek hard, more forceful – more painful – than it logically should have been. But this wasn’t a very logical situation she’d found herself in.

M grasped Agatha’s head by its mandible and forced it back to look at her.

‘Secondly,’ she spoke through her teeth, ‘You will never disobey my commands. Ever. Not a single reason to, bar your very life being in danger.’

Agatha tried to steady her heartbeat. Her life felt like it was in a pretty steep amount of danger at this very moment, she would say.

A light jingling noise almost pulled her eyes away again as M raised a silver pocketwatch into the light. Agatha’s pulse quickened. It wasn’t her focus of choice, but she knew from experience it’d work on her.

Not that she was allowed to resist, being bound by her new contract.

‘Go on,’ M smiled in victory, ‘You know what I want. Look at the watch, and fall to me.’

Agatha’s eyes felt like they were already made of stone, dragged inexorably to the gently spinning flash of silver and light. But as the spinning slowed, Agatha swore she saw something else.

She tilted her head, not quite believing what she was seeing.

‘Is that … Darkrai?’

M’s face immediately warped into pure annoyance as she whipped the pocketwatch into her palm by its chain and snapped her fingers in front of Agatha’s face.

‘Just drop, idiot.’

Caught completely off guard, her head lolled to the side and gently came to rest, eyelids fluttering closed.

In a way, trance was a relief to Agatha. It was a dark and comforting place, away from all the tension and fear she had been feeling. It was still there of course, just neatly packed away and organised at the back of her brain.

M stuffed the watch back into her pocket, taking a moment to centre herself again.

‘Now,’ M began with a drawn out inhale, ‘Why don’t we start by making you a little more … compliant?’

Agatha couldn’t be sure how much time had passed by the time she managed to pull herself out of trance.

Rubbing her forehead dreamily and cracking open her eyelids, she saw she was still under the halogen overhead lights of her CEO’s office. And tilting her head down, she saw with a fearful realisation, M was still there, eyes sharp and piercing, her hands idly playing with something on her desk.

‘You took long enough. How much longer were you expecting me to wait?’ she snapped, though there was something … else to her voice now. The anger was still there, as was the glee of unmitigated, victorious sadism, but her voice…

It was hunger.

Agatha tried to sit up more in her chair, but found it more difficult than it should have been. She felt heavy, like her whole body was being weighed down by chains. Metaphorically speaking, it was.

‘I don’t,’ she spoke with a faltering patter, ‘Remember … What did you; no … How many?’

M gave a thin smile, ‘So you’re at least aware enough to know I did something to that fried little brain of yours. Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to make good use of all the triggers and suggestions I sunk deep into your head. We can even start with a few now.’

Desperate energy started to surge back through Agatha’s body as it slowly realised its predicament. But she couldn’t move as she once did. Not while she was chained to M’s will.

Now that her body was starting to notice things about itself again, Agatha felt a much more pronounced chill in the air. Her blazer had been taken off her, thankfully her white satin blouse seemed to be unmolested. But as she looked for her jacket, she saw it was laid across M’s side of the desk. More to her immediate surprise M was scrolling through the files on Agatha’s phone!

Agatha sprang up suddenly and opened her mouth to protest, an arm instinctually reaching forward, only to be halted by a simple phrase from M.

‘Turn to stone.’

Her momentum ceased instantly, her body feeling like it had suddenly octupled in weight. Agatha’s arm fell to the solid desk with a thud, the rest of her body falling back into the chair like a collapsed marionette. She couldn’t move. She could barely think. It took conscious effort to breathe and blink.

How had M put a trigger this strong into her so quickly?!

Even through the glassy haze that fogged the edges of Agatha’s vision, she could see M slowly draw herself up to her full imposing height, Agatha’s phone still held in her manicured hand, camera pointed towards her.

‘If you’re wondering, while it would have been fun to tease the password out of you, it was far easier just to use the fingerprint scanner on the back of your phone. Terrible security idea, really. People will do such stupid things for convenience,’ M said with predatory smugness, ‘But since I’ll be keeping this I removed the password, so I won’t have to worry about needing to borrow your hand from now on. Don’t worry, all your dirty little secrets will be perfectly safe with me, provided you don’t do anything stupid,’ her smirk widening into another grin as she slowly stepped around Agatha, keeping the camera fixed on her.

Agatha’s heart felt as heavy as her body. M was recording this.

M continued, ‘It’s funny really, how quickly you took to my suggestions. I guess you’re aware on some level how much of a useless hypnoslut you truly are.’

Agatha wanted to scream, but the only sound that curled out from her mouth was a muted whimper. After M had made a full rotation of Agatha, she put the phone inside her own purse.

‘That will give me some entertainment to look through the next time I’m on an international flight, won’t it? Crumble.’

Suddenly feeling the sensation of falling, Agatha had to steady herself so she wouldn’t slip right off the edge of her chair. But M wasn’t having it, as with a swift motion of her leg she had kicked out at a leg of her chair, sending Agatha tumbling for the second time that night.

Looking up at M was like being at the foot of a great statue that demanded subjugation. Something primal in her mind couldn’t comprehend the enormity of what was in front of her. It felt as if she was shrinking under M’s very gaze.

‘I’ve waited long enough. Kneel.’

Agatha felt her body moving, her brain having to catch up to her hijacked subconscious as she drew her body into a kneeling position facing M.

It felt as if the cerebrospinal fluid filling Agatha’s skull was being carbonated, she felt trapped between unreality and a parody of the truth. Could she really be sure this was happening?

M stood before them, one of her hands playing with the hem of her skirt and the other roughly thrusting and twisting through Agatha’s hair in a clawed grip.

‘We’ll see if you can make yourself at least somewhat useful.’

Pulling up her pencil skirt, Agatha’s disbelief only grew. Right in front of her, plain as day, was a pronounced bulge, leaking ever so slightly at its tip and seeping into M’s fine undergarments. Her eyes darted up to meet M’s condescending stare.

‘What was it again they say about making assumptions?’ she mused, gently slipping her fingers underneath her tights, ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to remember anyway. Though in a few moments you likely won’t be able to remember a damn thing. Least of all your name.’

M pulled down her tights and panties, freeing her sex as it bounced gently and brushed past Agatha’s lips and nose. She felt her breath becoming hotter. Even the sight of it, the smell of it … this wasn’t normal. This wasn’t … she wouldn’t be thinking like this a few minutes ago!

Her thoughts were once again pushed aside by M’s sudden words.

‘In case it wasn’t obvious, if you bite at all I’ll make sure you never have another meaningful career for the rest of your miserable life.’

Before Agatha’s brain could even register a response she felt her head forced into M’s crotch, her mouth naturally opening to accommodate her shaft.

Agatha couldn’t keep up with M as she tried to force herself into her throat, and she lifted her hands to M’s thighs to try and push herself off or try to get a small reprieve. But M would have none of it.

Another sharp slap hit the side of Agatha’s face, this one like white hot ice, the shock and pain banishing any attempt at conscious thought from her brain. M gripped the back of her head tighter, continuing to choke Agatha on her cock.

‘I’m the one in control here, you fucking slut. Clearly I need to ensure you never forget that. Turn to stone.’

Agatha froze again, her wide-open jaw unable to move as M used it as her personal sex toy. She could taste the pre coating the back of her tongue as M rammed herself in, never letting anything less than two inches leave Agatha’s mouth.

The CEO gave a genuine cackle, continuing her thrusts with her words for emphasis.

‘Amazing how practised you are at this! It’s a Christmas miracle, ha! Or maybe you only got so far in my company because this is what you’ve been doing for all your superiors, is that it?! Is this really how you passed the interview?’

Agatha could feel herself beginning to cry, completely unable to stop or protest at what was happening. Tears burned against her hot skin like weak acid, somehow unable to look away from M. Breathing like this was hard enough unmolested, but with her boss’ cock buried so deep inside her mouth it was bordering on impossible.

M was right. She felt more pathetic now than she had ever felt in her entire life. Immoble. Barely thinking. Hardly a person.

The tears began to spill harder from her eyes as she realised that she had gotten hard. She just prayed M didn’t notice. Begged whatever benevolence was left in her life that she wouldn’t notice.

She felt M twitch inside her mouth.

Oh god, she’s going to cum, Agatha thought before M lowered another hand to just under her cheekbone, curling a finger around the trails left by her weeping. M let a few drops collect onto her finger before slowly, carefully, lifting them up to her mouth and licking them off her finger.

‘Mmmm, that is just delicious,’ she shivered in sick delight, ‘It’s been too long since I’ve had tears this fresh. Fuck, I’ve missed this! Come on, you good-for-nothing mouth-cunt. Cry for me! I’ll make you cry like you really mean it!’

M sunk the claws of her other hand onto Agatha’s head, gripping just as hard as the first, slamming her cock further and deeper into her, faster as M began breathing faster and more savagely. It felt like Agatha’s head was being shaken until she was seeing white, every thought and feeling pushed out of her head by her boss’ forceful thrusts in twin streams of uncomprehending tears.

But after what seemed like more than an age of indecent gagging whimpers and pathetic moans forced out of her, Agatha felt M press her cock against her tongue. The first splatter of cum hit the back of her throat, lethargically sliding down and into the depths of her being. Agatha felt M lifting her head upwards, her eyes forcing contact.

‘Don’t swallow. Otherwise I’ll have to do this all over again. And while I’m sure you’re enough of a filthy cumwhore to want that, I frankly don’t have the time for any more games tonight.’

Agatha felt, then tasted more of the thick ejaculate that M let drain into her mouth. It was bitter, overwhelmingly so. But something about the taste, that texture, knowing whose it was and why she was forcing it into her, everything she felt was so … so … fuck, it was so right. This was safe. This was what she was for.

One last tear fell from her eyes. Had M really carved these feelings so deep in her mind already? She really was hopeless.

As M slid her cock from Agatha’s mouth – part of her already missing the smooth and sensuous flesh – she felt M’s hand shut her jaw and seal her lips. M knelt down to keep eye contact, still above Agatha but now much closer.

‘You will go back to the room where the party was. Most of my colleagues should have left by now. You’ll go into the side room opposite the windows, and spit that into the mouth of Lily. Even an idiot like you would know who they are without me needing to tell you. And remember: Don’t. Swallow,’ she instructed before releasing her grip on Agatha, ‘Crumble.’

So many sensations of disgust, despair, and revulsion hit Agatha at once as she regained control of her faculties. A hand went to her mouth, feeling so much of her own saliva and spittle mixed in with the load M had left in her mouth. Agatha unsteadily tried to get to her feet, barely able to stabilise herself.

She knew if she spat out M’s cum anywhere else she was going to be treated even worse than she already was. Now she had to take it all the way back to that party hall … And just who was Lily supposed to be?!

A sharp smack to her rear startled Agatha, thankfully not enough to make her accidentally swallow M’s cum.

‘The fuck are you just standing around for? I tell you to move, then you move!’ M shouted.

Agatha hurriedly began walking back towards the elevator, stumbling and painfully knocking her shoulder against the doorframe of M’s office on the way out.

As the CEO watched Agatha stagger away and the elevator doors close her in, she allowed herself a groan of satisfaction as she stretched her shoulders. The way that stupid girl had such fear in her eyes … It was just delicious. Not as much as her darling fiancé of course, but a tasty distraction at the very least.

Still, she’d had a taste and decided she wanted more. She wanted to strip everything away from that tasteless bitch. She’d take her name, rip her appearance away from her, hell, she might even take away her pronouns just for the fun of it. She was going to tear her to shreds. And when she had taken everything that stupid girl had away from her, even if she begged her to keep her under her thumb, she’d throw her away without a second thought.

Magnolia bit her bottom lip. The thought of utterly destroying another human life thrilled her to her core. She’d absolutely have to make use of her darling fiancé later on. There was no chance of Lily getting even a wink of sleep tonight…

Agatha breathed heavily, still panicked, through her nose. The taste in her mouth, it felt like it was melting into her flesh. Suffusing every crevice and corner of her cellular structure. It was all her. M. It was like M was becoming part of her, her seed infiltrating her body and soaking into her brain. She wondered if she was going crazy. She could barely even recognise any of what just happened as being real. Did she have a psychotic break because of the stress of her job? Was she in reality just thrashing unconsciously strapped to a gurney in the back of an ambulance?

The elevator doors slid open, back to the floor she had come from.

She tried to steel herself as she walked back to the hall. If this had all really happened, then this was easily the worst thing to have ever happened to her. She had never been so insulted, so bullied by someone who relished abusing their power as much as M clearly did.

Agatha tried to begin thinking what kind of mental unpicking she’d have to do to remove the suggestions M had stitched into her brain, but … she didn’t even remember them being implanted in the first place! And even if she could remove the ones M had just used on her, there was no telling what else M could hit her with, what other triggers she might have implanted, leaving her hopelessly defenceless.

Agatha grimaced as she kept walking. And she was still hard! At least it wasn’t too far to the event hall…

Regrettably, there were still one or two of M’s colleagues lingering in the room, mostly couples gazing out the windows together, or an especially rowdy trio that was getting the absolute most out of the last of the champagne. Agatha cursed internally. No chance of her getting this … taste out of her mouth.

Worse, some of the lingerers saw her enter, and cast leering glances towards her. Knowing looks. Agatha swore one woman even licked the front of her teeth behind pursed lips.

She hurried into the room M specified.

Please, she prayed with closed eyes, let tonight just be over.

Agatha looked into the room and felt her heart vanish out from her chest. She had to hold her hands to her mouth to stop her jaw from falling open. Only now did she realise this was the same room all those executives were going into for “PDA.”

Perched atop a bench was a human form, legs split open wide like a carved turkey and served in a frighteningly similar style. Decorated with festive ribbons and chains, but restrained with steel cuffs to firmly set anchor points. Bruises, fresh and old, covered their entire body and were crossed over with hatch-marks of deep scratches. The scent of champagne, beer, semen, and who knows what else basted them, their face contorted into an overstimulated and blissed out visage of vacancy. Their mouth hung wide open, and Agatha saw, with no small amount of despair, that this person – obviously Lily – had a much larger streak of red through her own hair.

Hesitantly, Agatha stepped towards them. Once she was close enough, she bent over and spat the cum she had been forced to carry into the true recipient's mouth.

The result was almost immediate. Despite their complete lack of awareness of anything around them, Lily began to move, and their eyes fluttered open with a dreamy expression.

‘M-Mistress?’ they asked, before their eyes adjusted enough to take in Agatha’s form, ‘Who … are you?’

After wiping a small line of cum from the corner of her mouth, Agatha realised she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.

She settled for saying, ‘I’m not really sure anymore.’

Silence hung for another few seconds before Lily asked, ‘Aren’t you going to use me?’

Lily was surprised by the stranger’s expression. Not disgust or judgement, or even amusement. Fear. Genuine, deep seated terror.

‘Sh-she would kill me. Or,’ Agatha stammered, her eyes passing over every part of Lily again, dimly aware of the tightness under her own skirt, ‘Or worse…’

‘But … that’s what I’m for?’

Agatha stumbled backwards into the wall and slumped downwards, head resting in hands supported by her knees. What had she gotten herself into? Just what was her life supposed to be now?

Clueless, Lily gave a delirious giggle.

‘Merry Christmas!’

‘Merry Christmas,’ Agatha thoughtlessly echoed, letting her eyelids fall closed. Perhaps if she fell into a dreamless sleep, she could awaken from this nightmare.

Though she swore she had only closed her eyes for a moment, the sound of high heels across the floor jolted Agatha awake in time to witness M striding into the side room.

Before she could scurry backwards further into the corner of the room, legs flailing trying to get her away, M turned her head towards her.

‘Turn to stone.’

Agatha’s body complied and thudded back against the wall, like the discarded toy she was. M slowly walked towards Lily, drinking in their appearance as she drew a dainty key from a pocket of her blazer. She unlocked the restraints, slowly allowing each muscular limb to settle back into the puddle of juices Lily had found themselves marinating in. Once she was done, she moved around to hold their head in her hands as she leaned in for a tender kiss. It was a display of emotions that Agatha was unsure that M could even experience from how she had treated her just moments ago.

She felt hollow.

M fished a plush black towel from a cupboard beneath the bench Lily lay atop, wrapping her in its warm softness. Lily mewled happily at the love and attention, before M scooped them up and helped them to their feet.

‘We’ll get you cleaned up before we go home. I trust you enjoyed getting stuffed, Plaything,’ she said so gently, so sweetly, with a twist of salacious joy.

Then she turned her head to Agatha.

‘You,’ she said in a carefully measured tone, ‘will be in my office at nine tomorrow morning. As in AM. We will discuss your future at this company further then. Crumble.’

Agatha’s body slackened, that sensation of falling caving in the rest of her soul. She had to fight her body just to stop herself falling to the floor again. She didn’t have the fight left in her. Her reality, her whole life, everything she had built for herself, it was all crumbling, crumbling, crumbling around her.

M and her plaything left the room as Agatha hit the ground.

As they did, in a state devoid of any real intelligence, Lily turned to their owner.

‘Mistress? Who was that?’

She gave a cruel smirk, ‘A hole. A hole in the world where a person used to be.’