The hands of time ticked by once again.

Many more days had passed and Agatha had started to properly settle in. She still suffered through her exercise regime and didn't end up talking to many of the other servants – hell, she'd yet to even see another personal assistant aside from the chauffers – but she was nevertheless enjoying her time here. She was doing her job as best as she could. Heck, she was even proud of herself for adapting so quickly, given the peculiar circumstances. But it was a lucrative job all the same. She'd made a ton of savings already, even with all the money she'd been sending back home.

She cast her memory back to that visit she'd had with Mistress to Claire de Sol, when she had asked her how long she planned to stay with them. How could people just make the decision to leave a place like this so easily? Then again, she did miss her many loves back home. Only somehow, even though the distance was great between them all now, it still sometimes felt like they were far apart even when they were in the same city.

It left her feeling unwanted, a lot of the time.

It was as Agatha was entering the main lobby, still wincing occasionally from the bruises remaining from Anne's ravishing of her body, that she noticed something new. It seemed there was no end to the things which would surprise her in this place.

There was a woman – though Agatha hesitated to call her as such from how still she was standing – stood by her desk in extremely similar attire to her own uniform, though her clothing was somehow much more extravagant. A lush pink silk blouse, long black pencil skirt with fine stockings, cute heeled pumps matching her blouse, and a silk neckerchief of a delicately contrasting cream colour.

Oh what the fuck is this now? Agatha thought to herself. Bracing for the worst, she cleared her throat to speak.

'Excuse me, can I help you?'

The woman looked to Agatha, her peaceful expression not changing in the slightest.

'Hello, I am Precious. Are you Mistress' receptionist Agatha?'

Her name was Precious? Okay, definitely going to be one of those days.

'Yes, that's me,' she said, unsure how she felt about the carefully practised movements of Precious, 'I remember Ma'am mentioned you to me a while ago.'

'Mistress has requested that I assist you with your work today, as you reported difficulties in the days prior regarding interruptions to your work.'

'Right. Cool. Good,' Agatha said with pursed lips before she moved to sit down.

As she did, she noticed another note in her Mistress' handwriting sitting atop her in-tray.

"Agatha,

I trust you will take good care of my Doll for me. She has been instructed to follow your orders until I return. She will follow any task you give her to the letter.

— Mistress"

Agatha put the note down, looking back to Precious again. A Doll? That was cute. She reflected on her own wants again, that feeling of desirability, of prettiness and stillness and the gentle and relaxing tick tock tick tock tick tock … no, no. She couldn't let herself fall into that right now.

Why exactly was this happening? Surely this couldn't be one of Lisa's pranks. This was too elaborate. Usually Lisa kept her mischief to things like putting sticky notes underneath the laser of her computer mouse.

Agatha cleared her throat again, 'So … you're one of the harem?'

'That is correct.'

'Ah, thought so,' she nodded, quickly running out of things to say, 'Well, thank you for helping me today. I really appreciate it.'

She gave a dainty little smile, 'You're most welcome, miss Agatha.'

There was a flash of something inside Agatha hearing her name said that way, but she tried to ignore it. She gave a nod, turning to her work. This really would make things much simpler. There was still so much to do left over from yesterday. There was one absolutely insufferable art dealer in Milan who absolutely refused to stop talking, and whose attention she demanded took up a good three hours of back-and-forth phone calls and email chains. Hopefully with Precious being here, it should make catching up with what was left behind much easier.

Agatha heard rapid footsteps approaching from within the mansion.

Oh no.

Agatha mentally begged for it not to be Anne again, but as she turned her prayers appeared to have been answered. By the devil.

Clara launched herself at Precious, wrapping herself around the doll in a huge hug.

'There you are! I was wondering where you'd gone, dolly!' Clara beamed, 'You're dressed so cute! Like an um, uh … like a really smart book person!'

Agatha blinked from her seat, again baffled at what Clara was trying to say.

'Do you mean a librarian?'

Clara turned her innocent eyes towards Agatha, and for a brief moment she wondered if the … princess, did she call herself? If she remembered her at all.

Finally a spark of recognition jolted across Clara's eyes.

'Oh! Hi Agatha! What are you doing here?'

'I…' she started, utterly baffled, 'I work here.'

'I am to assist miss Agatha with her duties today,' Precious helpfully added.

'Really? Wow!' Clara gasped, 'Can I help?'

That innocent question unfolded an untold maw of horrors before Agatha. She knew Clara was a bimbo, but what was her place in the hierarchy supposed to be? Would her "helping" get her in trouble with Anne again? If she said no, was Clara going to get upset? Did Clara have any authority over her? That last thought really terrified her.

But her eyes were so wide and innocent, even if she was almost blinded by all the pink and white and glitter she exuded.

Besides, she couldn't be that dumb. Could she?

'Uhh … okay. But only little things,' Agatha said, trying to be stern, 'And if you get confused, listen to Precious.'

'What!' Clara gasped, startling Agatha and causing her to tense up, 'But she's my dolly!'

Agatha bit the back of her tongue in an angry panic. She wasn't used to dealing with children but she figured that might be easier than this situation somehow.

'Well, Ma'am said that she's meant to follow my orders for today. Look, I even have this note from her.'

Agatha showed the note to Clara, who took it in both hands and scrutinised it thoroughly.

At least, that's what Agatha thought she was doing.

'Inn … insi … eens … instructions?'

Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.

Agatha was very nearly reaching her limit with how much she could tolerate.

'You … can read, can't you? It's kind of necessary for the job.'

'I can read!' Clara pouted defensively, a quaver of something in her voice, 'I just can't say hard words.'

Hard words like instructed? Was she for real? Was she taking the piss?

Agatha tried to think of something, anything, to resolve this without exploding. She didn’t want to treat Clara the way that Anne had treated her. It felt wrong to just tell her to go away, and she couldn't order her around since she was just a servant. And if she let Clara "help" then whatever Clara did would be ten times worse than whatever Mistress would do to Agatha after she found out she'd let her mess everything up.

The potential for her own humiliation in this instant felt more like a life or death struggle.

'Have…' Agatha gasped, reaching the end of her tether, 'Have you even done anything like this before?'

She thought for a painfully long time, Agatha could practically see whatever hamster wheel in her head slowly turning until she got another excited look on her face, like she'd physically found a lost memory.

'Oh yeah! There was this one time Mistress took me to her office, and made me photocopy a bunch of stuff.'

Photocopying? That was nothing. Absolutely nothing! Sure, it scanned that Mistress would get her to do that, but literally the first idiot she came across could-

Wait. Come to think of it, hadn't Mistress said Clara was brought to her office as part of a scene? What did that Christian guy say to her?

Fuck it. It was worth a shot. At the very least it could get Clara out of her hair for a while.

'Was that when someone said,' she coughed to try and clear her throat, nervously looking around in case anyone was watching, 'Pink, pink, pink?'

Clara's expression immediately softened into blissful blankness, her eyes glazing over and a deep blush spreading beneath her makeup. Agatha had to quickly get up to try and steady her as she looked just about ready to fall over.

Seeing her this close in her arms sent a thrill through Agatha. Her makeup, despite it not being something she'd wear for herself, was undeniably pretty. Her soft lips, gentle warm breaths of lurid passion, absurdly voluptuous body, and the dazed and blank expression she had … it was so enticing. To just be able to slip under so easily at a few simple syllables into such a deep trance, so blissfully zoned-out even just from the very look of her, and all for two adoring and caring and cruel Mistresses…

Agatha bit her lip. She wasn't jealous. She wasn't jealous. She wasn't jealous.

Now that she was thinking a little more rationally she realised just how deep in the shit she put herself in. She'd just discovered a trigger she wasn't meant to know. One that Mistress had specifically told her she wasn't meant to know. And to top it all off, she had no idea what exactly it was meant to do, or how to get her out of this state.

Fucking hell, why did she do this?

And yet that sexual thrill was still there. If anyone saw, if anyone knew, she could get into serious trouble. And if Mistress were to find out, she'd get seriously, seriously, punished. Worse than anything Anne could possibly throw at her.

Or she could lose her job.

Fuuuuuck.

Agatha looked to Precious for any kind of guidance or expression. She showed none of either, standing in exactly the same position Agatha had first seen her in.

'Okay, let's just sloooow things down,' Agatha breathed, gently guiding Clara's limp form to her desk chair, 'Easy does it. There you go, nice and safe and comfy.'

Clara's mouth made a dull giggle as she parroted a few of Agatha's words back to her. Putting a hand to her chin, Agatha tried to assess the situation.

It looked like Clara was in a very suggestible state right now. She was able to echo, but didn't seem to be in control of all her faculties. She was at least confident she knew how to wake Clara. Though she had no idea how she was going to react if she did.

Agatha turned back to her assistant for the day.

'Okay Precious, I need your advice. What do you think that Ma'am would do in this situation?'

Without hesitation she answered; 'Pin her down and fuck her.'

Agatha took a sharp intake of breath, 'Ooohkay maybe not the best example. What about her Majesty?'

'Pin her down and-'

'Yep! Okay, okay. I see,' Agatha interrupted, realising she wasn't going to get anywhere with this line of questioning.

She was legitimately starting to panic now. What the hell was she going to do? Someone could come by any minute!

‘Okay um … Precious why don’t you take Clara to her room and I’ll … you can make sure she’s okay and-’

There was a sigh. Musical, but betraying acute boredom. It made Agatha's blood freeze in place. She knew that sound of sensuous ennui.

'Really Agatha, you have such a hard time saying "no" to anyone at all don't you?' her Majesty asked, gliding gracefully into the room, ‘You’d go so far as to put dear Clara under instead of acting upon your true intentions? Tut tut, dear.’

Agatha immediately stood to attention, 'M-Majesty! I … um … it's not what it looks like!'

'Oh isn't it? Then explain to me, Agatha, what this is,' she challenged with a devious grin.

Agatha couldn't help but stammer out malformed excuses. She knew nothing she could say could be a logical explanation for what was going on here. And Precious – loyal first to her Majesty – would just say what really happened verbatim if Agatha tried to cover up or lie.

She was utterly trapped.

Her Highness tutted again as she sauntered closer to Agatha.

'It looks to me like you've caused yourself quite a bit of grief.'

Agatha's whole face burned. Not only was she trapped, she was caught. Her fate rested in the beautiful hands of her Majesty now. A most majestic Sword of Damocles.

'Oh Agatha,' her Highness sighed again, 'What are we going to do with you? Though I suppose this really isn't your fault. Not entirely.'

Agatha's head snapped back to attention, her embarrassment draining away as her Majesty continued.

'I admit, I orchestrated this situation since my darling wife told me about what happened in the office. Truth be told it was mostly because I was bored. But I haven't forgotten about what we spoke of once upon a time. So this was very helpful for getting an understanding of where you are as a hypnotist. Precious, be a dear and hold Agatha still for me.'

Agatha froze as Precious wordlessly stepped behind Agatha, both her arms pinned to the side by her biceps. Diana stepped closer, exquisite panic beginning to rise in Agatha's chest.

'Your Majesty I … I'm truly sorry, I know I shouldn't have-'

'Hush. It's alright, Agatha. You haven't done anything I hadn't foreseen,' Diana spoke, her words so even and calming, 'In fact, for the most part you acted exactly as I had predicted. Like a little puppet. A marionette. I can practically see the strings attached to you.'

Agatha looked back to Precious, her face implacable but a clear emotion burning in her eyes that made Agatha’s heart flutter.

‘Look at me, Agatha,’ Diana commanded.

Agatha’s head involuntarily snapped back to her employer, whose eyes met hers with clear and predatory determination. Her walk was slow, undulating. The clack of her heels and the soft jingle of her extravagant jewellery the only sound in the atrium.

Agatha felt herself starting to fade. Was this an induction? Wait, why was this happening? Should she fight it? Was she going to get punished if she dropped? Would she be punished if she didn't?

'You are at least able to recognise triggers and their effects, for the most part. I'm sure you've even recognised that floaty, soft feeling of trance you're falling into now. Don't be afraid, that just means you're listening. Concentrating so hard on what I have to say. And that's good. But there are areas in which you struggle. You can put people into trance but have such a hard time following through. Such a thing isn't helped by the bounds of your current position, I suppose.'

Her Majesty was going somewhere with this, even in Agatha's vaguely aware state of mind she could be sure of it.

'So,' Diana smiled as she brushed her perfect nails ever so gently through Agatha's tightly held back hair, 'Why don't we have a little discussion, you and I, about how we can develop this little interest of yours?'

There was a knock at Agatha's door before it swung open barely a second later, a very awake and very irate looking Mistress striding into the room as Agatha barely comprehended what was happening.

'Get up and get dressed,' she announced, 'One of my other assistants has fallen ill rather suddenly. Since you're the only one I have on hand, you'll have to do.'

Agatha, halfway convinced she was still in whatever dream she'd just had, relinquished her hold on two body length plushies of a shark and a whale. Rubbing a hand against her face, she was surprised that the usual scrub of stubble she was accustomed to in the morning was absent. Perhaps it was her new hormones that were reducing the growth from the previous day and overnight.

'Ma'am? Where will we be going?'

'Paris. It's a long flight, so we will be taking an overnight stay.'

Paris? Why the hell was she going to Paris?

Agatha's memory slowly came back into focus as she remembered which of the other PA staff she'd allocated to be Mistress' aide for this trip, and organising the four tickets for each of them. It was an exhibition at a gallery, ostensibly a charity event for socialites, but Agatha got the feeling things were getting sold on the side. After all, business and pleasure for the ultra-wealthy seemed to mix often.

It was as Agatha reached for her uniform that she heard another bleary yawn from the doorway where, much to her surprise, her Highness also stood, draped in a blanket and without makeup.

As if sensing Agatha's surprise, Mistress added, 'My wife will also be joining us. We have friends who have all but demanded they see us together at this event.'

'Yes Ma'am,' Agatha nodded, trying to struggle into her clothes.

'Now hurry it up. I have no interest in dressing you myself. And if I have to, you'll be wearing the inside of a duffel bag,' Mistress chided before wrapping an arm around Diana, giving one last look to Agatha before leaving, 'We will be in the lobby. Do not keep us waiting.'

Agatha would have admitted that if she had been told by anyone that she'd be flying in a private jet at the behest of two beautiful women, she would have called it wishful thinking at best.

But for this truly strange eight hour window, Agatha would be doing just that, seated opposite the Mistresses of the mansion she'd been living in for over a month now. The whole experience was leaving her with a strangely uncanny sensation.

That wasn't to say the whole plane ride was purely for pleasure. While Mistress and her Majesty were able to relax – though Mistress visibly less so – Agatha had been tasked with the utterly mind-numbing task of allocating the next six months of the maids' schedules by hand.

She supposed it really wasn't anything that could be automated, as it required a lot of triple-checking maid contract tenures, comparing consistencies with previous rosters, allocating days off, and scheduling meetings with the Mistresses to discuss if their contract would be extended or not.

By the time she had made it through doing this for at least two and a half hours, it was making her restless brain even more understimulated. The great coffee she'd been handed by someone on the way to the jet wasn't too much of a help, but at least it was something.

Her Highness, now dressed in a still-expensive but somewhat less extravagant gown, seemed to take notice of Agatha's slipping concentration.

'Do you feel alright, Agatha?' she asked, concern in her voice.

'Yes your Majesty,' Agatha nodded, rubbing her eyes, 'I'm just … having a little difficulty focusing right now. It might be best to take a short break?'

'By all means,' she said with a gentle wave of her hand, 'Just put the laptop down for a moment, it might be nice to just chat for a while.'

Agatha handed off the closed laptop to her side. The chairs in these private jets were extremely comfortable. She'd never flown any flight more expensive than economy, which was about as luxurious as a schoolbus. She could feel herself sinking deeper and deeper for a moment before a thought entered her head.

A "chat" with both Mistresses? Oh no. This was either really good or really bad.

'It has been about a month now … would this be about my performance review, your Highness?'

Mistress gave a dismissive snort, 'You already have your agenda for today. We can discuss your performance review once we get back to the mansion.'

'Yes Ma'am,' Agatha nodded, 'Then, what would you like to discuss?'

'Actually, we've been thinking about providing you with … a test,' Mistress mentioned, leaning forward slightly.

Oh fuck. Just what the hell could they possibly mean by that?

'I had been thinking about what you had mentioned to me about your experience with hypnosis,' her Majesty continued, 'And while I am certainly happy to give you instruction, we would first need to know how capable you are in your own mental safeties,' she cleared her throat before continuing again, 'I must be clear, we are not asking anything serious of you. This is just a little guidance for your own path, should you choose to pursue this.'

Agatha looked between the two women, trying to get a read on the situation. Was this really happening?

'If … you wouldn't mind me asking your Majesty, Mistress; what would this test entail?'

'We will hypnotise you, and implant a few triggers with some miscellaneous effects which will only last until tomorrow, all of which you will be capable of resisting,' Mistress explained, 'However for the duration, you will have no memory of these triggers being implanted, which can be triggered by anyone who knows them. If you are able to show that you can resist them, then we may discuss further instructing your own skills as a hypnotist.'

Her Majesty added, 'Rest assured that nothing bad will happen to you if you are affected by a trigger. The least you will experience is some mild embarrassment or confusion, and at worst you will simply fall into trance and awaken by our sides, and your memories of everything that has transpired will return, including this conversation.'

Agatha could feel the heat building inside her, physically feel the hormones and endorphins blooming out from her core, like drops of ink in water. She couldn't believe they were offering this. Was this what her Majesty had meant in the library?

She pressed her legs together, the intensity of the conversation beginning to affect her.

'I accept,' Agatha said, sitting up straighter, 'When do we start?'

The Mistresses exchanged a look, and both rose from their seats. Agatha felt pinned to hers as they advanced upon her, each reaching out with a hand to touch the side of her face as-

'Agatha!' Mistress' stern tone cut in, snapping her fingers to get her attention, 'Agatha, wake up girl!'

Agatha started in her seat, hastily wiping a little dribble from the corner of her mouth. Mistress was visibly frustrated with her, while her Majesty was looking out the window indulging in a glass of some hopelessly expensive white wine.

It was noticeably much later in the day.

'Oh gosh! Sorry Ma'am,' she apologised profusely, 'I … must have closed my eyes for too long. I'll get back to the schedule.'

'Never mind that now, it's already been finished. Considering how early we'd dragged you out of bed I shouldn't be surprised you fell asleep,' the Mistress scoffed, 'No doubt indulging in some lurid fantasy in your dreams.'

Her Majesty gave a small smirk before taking another sip from her glass.

'We will be landing in Paris soon,' Mistress continued, 'You'll have your own hotel room, and as this is a formal event we shall be attending I've arranged for an evening gown for you to wear. Ensure that you do.'

'Yes Ma'am,' Agatha nodded.

The Louvre.

They'd taken her to the fucking Louvre.

Not only that, but she was rubbing elbows with obscenely wealthy and powerful people – almost none of whom Agatha recognised – and surrounded by some of the finest art in the world.

Considering how she had been dressed she thought that maybe she herself should have been on display here too.

Her silk gown was vibrant yellow as a perfect tulip, conservative in covering her body but tight enough to show off her form, the long dress flowing elegantly from the waist and decorated with what she dared not actually think were thousands of tiny orange gemstones. Long sheer sleeves covered her arms, and her hair and makeup had been done by two professionals who had set upon her as soon as she'd finished dressing in the ludicrously lavish gown. Even her shoes were a remarkable yellow leather, with pretty little heels. She felt incredibly dainty, undeniably attractive.

And utterly, totally, hopelessly out of place.

Though she was doing her best to appear calm and composed, standing beside her Mistresses as they engaged the room with grace and finesse, internally she was madly panicked. It didn't help that she hadn't said a single word since she'd gotten here.

Not that it would matter anyway, most of everyone here was speaking French. The most Agatha could manage was a word that would likely get her put outside as soon as she said it.

A stray thought of hers wondered how much her Mistresses might be talking about her rather than to her, though she tried to swallow that idea. She didn’t have to eroticise her lack of participation in the conversation.

But it was a wonderful opportunity to take in the gallery. The pieces they'd put on display for the event were utterly gorgeous. She didn't have a huge interest in art, but she knew enough to love what she was seeing. Especially what she assumed must be an original of her favourite artwork, Eduard von Grützner’s "The Catastrophe". Something about the inherent tragedy and comedy of the scene, contrasted by the weighty seriousness of the style and realism of its figures warmed her heart.

It was the kind of thing that she might want for herself. If only she was, oh, some sort of ultra-rich billionaire lesbian with a mansion of maids and a personal harem of hypnotised slaves.

But she was still here on business. She had to be attentive to her Mistresses, even if she couldn't understand what they were saying most of the time.

Despite her anxiety, she could try and blend in. Nod along, look between whoever was speaking and whoever looked like they were listening most intently, give a polite smirk when everyone else laughed.

God, she had never felt so obvious in her entire life. The things she would do for a glass of the champagne everyone else had been drinking.

Her Majesty, as if sensing Agatha's discomfort, bent down to whisper in her ear as Mistress began strongly disagreeing with someone about Rembrandt.

'Agatha, why don't you go get another drink. And perhaps one for yourself too?' She said with a benevolent smile.

Nodding an affirmation, Agatha turned away from the conversation with nearly a sigh of relief. It was almost like she was holding her breath the whole night, like there was some presence hanging over her just beyond her perception. But it was more than likely just the pressure of having to attend her Mistresses for so long, so personally, and totally unexpectedly.

She didn't have to go far to find a server with a tray full of delicate champagne flutes. Getting his attention with a polite gesture – or what she at least hoped was one – she raised two fingers as the server proffered the tray, who gave an understanding nod in kind. As she reached out with both hands, another arm leaned around her and snatched the glass from her left away.

Agatha, surprised, turned and was again stunned. The woman that stood before her was dressed in an exquisite gown of metallic silver, pleated intricately and flowing up into a sleeveless and high-collared bodice of black latex, paired with opera gloves of the same material. Her eyes were concealed by a black glass visor – though she supposed they were more like futuristic sunglasses – and her short hair was delicately coiffed and styled. She smiled broadly, her lips decorated by a single strip of black lipstick running down the middle of her lips, as glossy as her gloves and bodice.

How the heck did she not notice her in the room before now?

‘Oh pardon, I did not mean to snatch,’ she said with a disarming, heavily accented voice, ‘My apologies, bonne femme.’

Agatha felt the inexplicable urge to bark.

Her mouth immediately clamped shut as she struggled to grasp comprehension of the situation. She wasn’t about to embarrass herself or her Mistresses by doing something so … random. Though there had been a twinge of happiness that briefly sparked through her.

The woman had a look of concern, though Agatha knew there was something teasing behind it, ‘Do you feel alright? You look like you’re going to see le vétérinaire.’

Suddenly a sensation of deep, genuine terror took hold of her, and it wasn’t just from being in such an unfamiliar situation being accosted by this woman.

This woman, whoever she was, was doing something to her head.

Agatha politely cleared her throat, trying to silence the shivers in her body, ‘I’m sorry, I must attend to my employers.’

She tried to brush past, but as she did the woman caught her by the elbow, leaned in closely, and whispered into her ear; ‘Oh pencher, bonne femme. I’m not done playing with you yet.’

Her foot felt stuck, and that same urge to bark threatened to leap from her tongue as a pleasurable tingle threaded through her spine. Covering it with another polite cough as she suppressed the urge, she tried to pull away again.

‘I must insist.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ the mystery woman said, tightening her grip, ‘Would you not like to … viens à la maison?’

This time, the words had no effect as Agatha was holding strong the walls around her mind. She’d caught on. This wasn’t going to work anymore.

‘I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I’d suggest you let me go,’ Agatha glowered, ‘Because I’m not at liberty to say what my Mistresses would do to you if you don’t.’

The woman made a thoughtful pout and shrugged her shoulders, ‘Hm. Fine. I’ve had my fun. Bon voyage, Agatha.’

She let her go.

It was like a wall of realisation hit her. Bricks of broken suggestions tumbled away and she realised what had just happened. Of course, everything at the event was still the same, but now that she remembered why exactly she was feeling all those truly bizarre sensations, she had to take a moment to stop and take a sip of her champagne.

Memories of the conversation on the plane, of shaving before she’d gone to bed, even the whole conversation with her Majesty explaining the idea to Agatha a few days prior all came back to her one after the other.

‘Wow,’ Agatha breathed, trying to process what had happened over the last seventy two hours.

‘Yeah, hypnotic amnesia can be a hell of a trip, huh?’ the woman said, sidling next to Agatha as her entire demeanour and accent changed, ‘Good job by the way. Guess you do have some mental barriers up there.’

Agatha blinked a few times in confusion, ‘I’m sorry, who are you if I may ask?’

She stopped mid-sip to offer a handshake, ‘Felicity. Mistress and her Majesty are my owners,’ she answered, ‘Kae told me you might be interested in our D&D game?’

‘Uh … yeah, actually.’ Agatha muttered, still confused and a little floaty, ‘What are you doing in France? Don’t you have an apartment in America?’

‘I came with you on the plane. You don’t remember?’ she asked with a smirk, ‘You’re welcome for the finished schedule, by the way. If Mistress hadn’t put me in drone mode and gotten me to just repeat what you did, I would have been bored out of my mind.’

Agatha looked back at the Mistresses, mouth agape. Her Majesty, who had clearly been watching from across the room, gave a delicate wave of her fingers.

‘Holy shit. They’re good,’ Agatha gasped.

‘Hm. You bet they are,’ Felicity smiled before shrugging, ‘I’m just disappointed I didn’t get to take you for a little marcher around the gallery.’

Agatha’s breathing suddenly hastened as positive feelings flooded her brain, her unguarded state letting a dopey smile spread across her face. She caught herself, but she knew Felicity noticed. The absolutely inane grin she wore told her as much.

‘Oh yeah? That sounds like fun to you, bonne femme?’

She had to choke back a needful whimper before she could respond, ‘I mean, they did say it would only last until the end of the night,’ Agatha muttered into the hand covering her mouth, starting to feel more than a little aroused.

Fuck. This whole situation was getting her way more hot and bothered than she thought she’d be, now that the initial confusion was wearing off. And from the looks of things, Felicity was not going to make things any easier.

‘Heheh, I’ll go easy on you, bonne femme,’ Agatha had to bite back another bark, ‘But for now why don’t we just enjoy the fine art and high society? And the free champagne, of course.’

Agatha felt the stiffness beneath her dress tighten a little more.

‘I uh … I’m going to have to be right back,’ she excused herself and tried to politely rush through the crowd to the toilet.

As soon as she found a spare cubicle, she quickly engaged the lock and hoisted her dress. Her panties had already been soaked through with precum. She physically couldn’t wait any longer.

Sliding off the slick and thoroughly ruined panties, she shuddered as she ran her hand up and down her shaft, her other hand gently rubbing circles against her perineum. Moans turned to soft howls and whines as she couldn’t help but run a fingertip, lubricated by her own slick, across her frenulum and glans.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How was she already so close? Nothing she’d tried short of a magic wand and porn had an effect this strong on her libido.

She could almost feel a phantom tail wagging as she succumbed to her heat, driving her further and further until finally she pushed herself over the edge, body shaking with pleasure as she gasped and whined and barked like the animal she felt like.

Agatha sat back and breathed, letting her body relax as her thick, coagulated girlcum dripped out from her cock. She couldn’t help but let out a sincere laugh. It was all so silly. She’d been hypnotised at a high society charity ball she wasn’t even invited to attend, before cumming in a public bathroom in the fucking Louvre.

Even if she hadn’t signed that NDA, there was no way anyone would ever believe her.

Taking a few minutes to neaten herself up, Agatha cleaned her loins, washed her hands, straightened out her dress and tried her best to fix her hair in the mirror. As she stepped out from the bathroom, she was surprised to see her Highness standing before her with a very satisfied grin on her face.

‘Enjoying yourself, dear?’

It was like every page in the dictionary was trying to force its way out of Agatha’s mouth at once. As her Highness gave another gleeful chuckle, Agatha settled for ‘Yes, your Majesty.’

‘Good. I’m very glad to hear it,’ she mused, ‘I know I said these suggestions would only last for the night, but if you’d prefer I can remove them now. You have passed our little test, after all,’ she said before adding wryly; ‘A real one, this time.’

Her mouth opened, but Agatha hesitated. She spoke up her thoughts, her cheeks rushing with red once more, ‘Actually your Majesty, if I may … Could I keep these suggestions? Just for tonight?’

Her Highness smiled broadly, ‘Of course, bonne femme. I’d thought you might want that.’

Agatha’s own smile widened, as she allowed herself to vocalise a happy yap.

‘In fact, it seems Felicity didn’t quite get around to playing with my favourite suggestion,’ she beamed, one of her delicate hands reaching to the back of Agatha’s head, her nails beginning to gently graze the back of her skull.

Every thought Agatha was capable of having left in that moment as she couldn’t help but let her tongue loll out from her mouth. Contentment and utter bliss washed through her whole body, unable – and unwilling – to stop it.

Diana gave a gentle laugh, her eyes mirthful but tinged with something like longing.

‘Bonne femme, Agatha. Bonne femme.’

For the rest of the night, Agatha kept her ears perked and attention ready, not just for whatever needs her Mistresses might have, but for whenever anyone might say those sweet words that made her heart flutter. Though she still had to suppress the urge to actually act on the triggers, she could still enjoy the happy, floaty, fluttery feeling it gave her.

Having noticed almost immediately what was happening, Mistress seemed to be quietly delighting in working the triggers into normal conversation.

Eventually, the gala seemed to be winding down after all the night’s events. Honestly Agatha was glad for it. Between all of the different emotional triggers and suppressing the physical responses she’d been only somewhat tempted to give into, she was exhausted. She got the feeling the sub drop after the fact was going to be absolute agony.

Her Mistresses had left her alone for a moment to rest on a couch, while they took Felicity to do something that Agatha had a broad guess about what it would entail, but very little idea of the specifics.

Apparently Felicity was a drone though, that was pretty cool.

She looked down at the third glass of wine she’d had, remembering the person who’d first introduced her to hypnosis, the drone once in her own life. And how painful its parting had been. If only it could see her now.

As she finished her fourth glass of a champagne she’d never be able to afford on her own – let alone pronounce the name of without a few minutes of practice – Agatha spotted the Mistresses returning with their property, the trio looking more or less put together after whatever hedonistic excess they’d committed in the closest confined space.

She stood, a little unsteadily, and greeted them.

‘Are we ready to depart?’

Mistress gave a satisfied sigh, ‘Yes, I think we’re ready to return to our hotel. We have more plans for you, after all,’ she hungrily smirked, her attention upon Felicity. Though judging by her vacant expression and only response of “Affirmative,” that wasn’t any name she’d respond to right now.

‘Indeed. Agatha dear,’ her Majesty said with a dreamy smile and a titter, ‘Our little bonne femme. Would you care to experience the one last trigger we gave you?’

She nodded eagerly, ‘Yes your Highness.’

‘In that case,’ she said as she leaned in close to whisper softly, ‘Viens à la maison, darling.’

The entire world focused into sharp clarity for Agatha. Every sense she had was wired and attentive, she could almost feel the blood running through her veins. Suddenly she could smell the differences in the perfumes each of her Mistresses wore; how the scent of sex lingered on all four of them, one way or another.

It was as if her mind was a room, once maximalist and cluttered in its decor, now emptied of all furniture, knick-knacks, kitsch, and paintings, leaving only the barest essentials; the most important things in the world.

Which, of course, was friendly and cheerful obedience to Mistress and her Highness.

‘Agatha dear, let our driver know to start the car,’ Mistress said, her hand already exploring the unresponsive drone’s breasts.

‘Yes Mistress, sure thing!’ Agatha beamed as she turned about-face, entirely nonplussed by what she’d just seen.

As far as she was concerned, things like arousal, sex, and hypnosis no longer existed. Her Mistresses could do whatever they wanted with their property, that was totally normal. She wasn’t their property though, she was just visiting for now, which was fine. She knew she wasn’t going to remember this until she woke up the next day either, but that was fine too.

Things were good as long as she was happy, helpful, and obedient!

Maybe if she asked nicely they’d let her stick her head out the car window on the way back to the hotel?

‘Release.’

Memory and conscious awareness finally returned to Agatha. She felt dizzy and tired, but luckily was already lying down in her bed in the hotel. Standing over her, looking down at her dreamily, was her Majesty.

She glowed with contentment, her hair a mess and makeup cleaned off, dressed in a soft bathrobe.

‘How are you feeling, little bonne femme?’

Agatha, no longer feeling the expected urge to yap happily, instead sleepily stretched and rubbed her eyes, ‘Floaty. Feels good, your Highness.’

‘I’m very glad,’ she said.

‘Did you have fun with Felicity?’ Agatha asked, not quite able to keep the thought contained in her head.

‘Oh yes, Drone #0452 has been extremely thorough in pleasing us tonight,’ she grinned, ‘And so have you.’

Agatha cocked her head to the side, ‘Wait, you didn’t-’

Diana scoffed at herself, ‘Sorry, I misspoke. No, we didn’t use you like we did our plaything.’

Her emotions an open book, Agatha couldn’t help but wrinkle her face in disappointment, but was theoretically glad nothing had happened to her.

‘Still, you did very well tonight. You really are a well trained subject,’ her Majesty commented.

‘Thank you,’ Agatha said, smiling, ‘I’ve sort of dabbled in a little bit of everything. I love all these different headspaces. Dolls, drones, prey, pups, even a soft plushie, though the closest I ever got to bimbo was forgetting my own name for a bit. Not that being a bimbo really suits me, anyway. But I really wanted to try…’ she hesitated as the smile dropped away, ‘Try to get my dominant feelings back. Don’t get me wrong, submission still feels amazing to me. But I used to … really enjoy being dominant. At least, I think I did. And I get a spark of that again with hypnosis.’

Diana continued to listen, nodding as Agatha spoke.

‘I even went out and bought this stupid mask, tried to anchor a suggestion to it to make myself feel more powerful. More in control. But even when I don’t accidentally break out of it and make myself look like an idiot,’ she choked, ‘I just worry about hurting people. Badly. Even when I want to, to make them feel good. Like … like what I did before I knew anything about being dominant, fuck, about anything. I didn’t even know who I was back then!’

Tears melted out from Agatha’s eyes as Diana put a caring hand on her shoulder, sitting by her side. Agatha tried to hold it in, but the sobs forced themselves out.

‘Tonight … it felt so good. I didn’t … I don’t have anyone in my life who can do that for me. Even with all the people I love I … Even the person who taught me what I know … It feels like I’m just being lied to sometimes. But I know they’re not liars, they’re good people! They just have the same needs I do. It’s just … I want my needs to match theirs.’

‘So you want to be that person for others, is that it?’ her Majesty asked.

Agatha nodded wordlessly, eyes screwed shut.

‘Well,’ she sighed, ‘I’ve certainly heard more selfish reasons for wanting to dominate someone else. We’ll teach you, Agatha. Don’t worry. We’ll draw that power out from you. You’ll learn to make it yours.’

Agatha rolled over, wrapping her arms around her Majesty’s waist and embracing her, sobbing into her thigh.

‘Thank you. Thank you, your Highness.’