Out of all of the shitty things someone could do on a first date, ghosting was the absolute worst. Cleo and her prospective date had gone on for hours about how much they’d love getting drunk at the best lesbian bar in town. They talked about making each other music playlists and going home to get even more drunk and make out. They’d even sexted a few times. It really seemed like this girl was into Cleo; thus, when she failed to show up at the bar despite Cleo having waited for two whole hours, it was a big slap in the face.
Cleo was frustrated — it wasn’t the first time she was stood up, but this one really hurt. She checked the dating app, too, and saw that they had unmatched. Cleo had learned in her many times dating non-men that giving anyone the benefit of the doubt or being too optimistic only hurt her in the end.
But she wondered what she could have done wrong. Cleo had dyed her hair a new gradient the weekend before — did the aqua blue to lilac to platinum blonde not suit her? Cleo figured it was much better than the washed out pink she had before. Maybe she went too heavy on the black leather and denim, or the new “Punch CEOs” patch she stitched onto the sleeve of her beloved jacket. At least Cleo was certain it wasn’t because she was a trans woman, considering her supposed date was the same.
As much as she wanted some sense of closure or any reason, she had already double texted the girl. She sent one last text that she didn’t expect a response to — “I’m going to head home now. Wish you success and love in life.” And then Cleo blocked and deleted her number.
Throwing her head back, Cleo groaned loudly. The bartender was too busy tending to the other customers to emotionally engage with Cleo, but she did sympathize with her. Another tall glass of whiskey was passed her way, which Cleo graciously took with a grateful forced smile at the bartender.
Cleo’s eyes turned again, gazing over to her group of friends. She hadn’t expected to run into them, but it was disappointing that they were too busy with their open mic or whatever to engage with Cleo. Not to mention, said open mic costed money, and Cleo had used all her loose cash to get the drinks and generously tip the bartender. She felt so alone tonight. It wasn’t a great feeling, though it was one that could be taken out angrily on a poor innocent dart board.
She stood up, walking over to another room of the bar with her glass still filled up high with rich alcohol. Cleo obviously wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, her attention focused on drinking whiskey being extremely angry.
Cleo was jolted back into reality as she bumped into a figure. Her thoughts faded away like a receding mist, clearing from the air in front of her. Of course, bumping into someone didn’t relieve her of her frustration — especially not when she saw just who stood in front of her, in awe at the whiskey stained on her suit.
Normally, Cleo would apologize for such an act; a stream of ‘sorry’s and ‘oh my gosh, are you okay?’s rushed to her mouth instinctively. However, the woman standing in front of her didn’t look like anyone who had earned Cleo’s respect.
The tall woman — surprisingly taller than Cleo — was clad in a high class, fancy suit. It was so extra; it wasn’t even a normal black and white business outfit. It was shimmering, the articles of clothing going between various shades of reds and purples. Cleo, the girl who relied on thrift stores and second-hand giveaways, couldn’t even begin to imagine the price of her ensemble. Either way, it looked far too fancy for any bar, let alone some queer lady punk rock bar.
The woman looked up from her suit’s stains to Cleo’s eyes. Cleo didn’t look sympathetic to her poor and sad struggles, and met her eyes with indifference. The ultrarich woman, on the other hand, stared into Cleo’s eyes deeply. She didn’t look particularly angry, but her stare was so intense and vibrant. If Cleo was any less rough, she would have been shaken to her core.
“Excuse me,” the businesslady spoke with very clear annoyance in her voice. “You need to be careful, young lady.”
“Oh, sorry,” Cleo exhaled and rolled her eyes back. The way this stranger scolded Cleo like she was a child got her riled up, but she stuffed down the frustration. “Was too lost in my thoughts, I guess.”
“Well, maybe you should be a bit more mindful of your surroundings. Especially when you’re carrying that kind of drink.”
Fuck off, corpie, Cleo quipped back in her head. Verbally, she resigned herself to, “yeah, yeah. Okay. My bad.”
Cleo was about to turn around and strut off, but she was regrettably stopped once again by this god-awful annoying woman. “You’re going to leave so soon? After ruining my favorite suit jacket? You know, whiskey is quite hard to get off of this kind of fabric…”
“Yeah, bring it to the dry cleaner’s or whatever then,” Cleo spat, leaning against the wall in an attempt to look tougher, less dignified, or ready for a fight. “I’m sure someone with your, ah, class can afford it.”
The businesslady let out a smirk — suddenly, Cleo was filled with dread at the plausible possibility that this rich bitch would ask Cleo to pay for the damages. And she was right, unfortunately. “Eight hundred dollars isn’t a drop in the bucket, dear, even for me.”
Cleo scoffed. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with this bullshit anymore. She rearranged her jacket and attempted to speed walk past her adversary.
“So rude,” the woman sighed, grabbing Cleo’s sleeve and tugging her back into her view. That certainly pissed Cleo off, especially as her rough grab almost ripped off some of the seaming on her patches.
“What the hell do you want?” Cleo demanded, now actually staring at the woman with fury in her eyes. “Do you really expect me to dish over more than a month’s rent for your made-out-of-gold shirt? The fuck’s your problem?”
It seemed that the woman was only grinning more sadistically the more Cleo would fight back. Almost like she was getting off on this. “I expect people generally to take responsibility for their actions. You know, spilling alcohol on someone… pretty careless offense, right?”
“You’re saying this like you didn’t bump into me either,” Cleo scoffed, once again trying to shove the woman off of her. “Just accept you need to, god forbid, lose a fraction of your weekly paycheck and get a new fancy jacket or whatever. Got it?”
Cleo was met with an even wider grin, which is why she found it suspicious that the surprisingly strong woman finally let go of her. The annoyed trans girl was about to run away, out of the bar, into her apartment closet where she could cry and scream in peace. Somehow, though, she knew she was being watched.
It was like a grip in and of itself, the devilish gaze that woman gave her. Cleo had to give her more attention — after all, her attention was being demanded.
“I know another way you can pay me back,” the woman spoke with a smug grin.
“Yeah, you want someone to fuck. I can tell,” Cleo scoffed.
“Not that,” she spat back. “Well, yes —that, but more than that. I want something more.”
“Uh huh? Care to share with the audience?”
Cleo now felt something quite different — instead of being teased, she was being eyed down by this rich lady’s ravenous eyes. She was being hunted.
“I’d like to go on a date with a cute girl,” she started. “You owe me something. Clearly you don’t have eight hundred dollars, let alone eight dollars. Why not spend a night with me, on my tab?”
“Yeah. Sure. Why would I do that? Why would I willingly spend any of my time around some bitchy corpie, let alone going on a date with her? I feel like I have much better things to do with my time.”
“Like what, dear?”
“Like tearing down the establishment that lets you buy a suit jacket with what would be a month of my rent.”
She kept leering at Cleo, almost happily being fueled by her anti-establishment rage. Cleo felt the fire burning in her, angry at this woman for tormenting her, and even more angry at herself for failing to get under this woman’s skin.
“I will never go on a date with someone like you. Ever.”
A wave of silence hung above the two, only being pierced by the overloaded ambiance from the bar. The two women with mismatched backgrounds glared daggers into each other’s eyes, both wanting opposite things from each other.
“My name is Aurora,” the woman suddenly introduced herself. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“I didn’t ask,” Cleo spat.
“You didn’t,” Aurora spoke, her voice taking a much softer volume. It was just loud enough for Cleo to hear her, but quiet enough that she had to listen very closely to make out her words from the general laughter and shouting in the bar. “But it’s good to know a woman’s name. After all, I’m sure you’ll soon be okay with our lives becoming very, very intertwined. You can see it in your head — after this date, going on many, many ones after.”
Cleo scoffed. “Over my dead body.”
“But you don’t have to focus on that. Just focus on everything that’s going on around you. Voices, all over, some higher than others, some low tones… talking, laughing, shouting, just hearing all the voices one at a time, and all at once. Can you hear everything? Can you keep focusing on my voice? Just hearing my voice, with everything around it.”
Cleo’s body relaxed, for some reason. But her eyes remained suspicious — what in the world was Aurora doing? Was she trying to overload Cleo with information? It was so hard to focus on Aurora’s voice along with everything else in the bar. And yet, Cleo felt the need to keep trying…
“And it’s more than voices — the click and clang of glasses, and doors opening, and chairs and tables moving, and can you alphabetize all those sounds? Or can you arrange them by sound, or color? Try to categorize them in your mind. It’s easy to keep everything in your mind at one time. Please tell me your name.”
“Cleo,” she mindlessly answered. Wait — why the hell did she answer? Why did it come so easily to her?
“Cleo, what a nice name.” Aurora’s voice was almost monotone, and moving in a neat and orderly rhythm. “How would you spell that? Would you organize the letters in order? What about my name too? Organizing the names ‘Cleo’ and ‘Aurora’ by letter — how many A’s would there be? Or B’s, or C’s? And can you alphabetize it with the sounds you hear too? And the blaring lights in this bar, filling your vision more, and more, making it harder to see and harder to focus…”
“Wait,” Cleo tried to stop her, “what are you—“
“Just feeling your body slipping through the floor, your consciousness fading, your mind becoming fuzzier, just listening to my voice closer and closer…”
“Wait, wait wait—“
* * *
Cleo must have somehow wiped out into total darkness, because she didn’t know how much time had passed, and she wasn’t aware of her surroundings during the minutes or hours she was entranced. In fact, it took her a moment to readjust to her new setting. Where was she? She was in the bar, right… the music was still blaring, but it was so much more distant. Was she in another room?
The walls were white, at least what wasn’t covered in graffiti… and she could feel the cold marble of the wall against her back. Her vision was blurred, but it slowly came into focus as she heard the numbers “three, two, and one” from a voice. She recognized the voice, but why did it fill her with so much hatred?
Cleo suddenly jolted awake as she realized what was going on. She had fallen asleep at some point, but the sight she saw horrified her. That rich bitchy woman — Aurora, she somehow remembered — had Cleo pinned against the wall in the bathroom stall. She was so much taller than Cleo, and much more intimidating; that was saying something, considering Cleo was the biggest and scariest of her friend group.
“Enjoy your trance, sweetheart?” Aurora spoke in a sweet tone, knowing exactly what she was doing to Cleo.
“What the fuck?” Cleo’s demand was airy as she reeled in disbelief. “What are you doing to me, you bitch?”
“Oh, come on. You can’t pay me back in money, so I made you pay me back with your mind.” Aurora clicked her tongue disapprovingly at Cleo, only making her blood boil. “Seems fair, doesn’t it?”
“F… fuck off! Get the hell away from me!” Cleo began trying to physically push back against Aurora, grabbing her stained suit and shoving her away. Aurora, much to Cleo’s bewilderment, didn’t put up a fight and simply stepped back.
“I’m not touching you. You’re free to go.”
Cleo didn’t grace that with a response. The idea that she was still being toyed with didn’t even cross her mind as she began to storm out the door.
“Just like clay.”
Cleo’s body suddenly stopped in place after hearing those three words. She froze. She couldn’t move a single muscle; the only things she could do was blink and breathe. No, wait — she could still speak.
“W-what the hell?” Panic rushed through her. “What did you do to me?! Why can’t I move?”
“So malleable.” Aurora walked back up to her, the click of her heels growing louder and more terrifying. She wrapped her arms around Cleo, getting her hands all over her.
Another trigger phrase? Cleo felt something change in her, that’s for sure. Was this some fucked up version of hypnosis? Aurora’s hands gliding across every inch of Cleo’s body felt like pins and needles, but… in a good way. The stinging sensation washed away, and was replaced with a burning hot sensation of pleasure.
Cleo tried to stifle her moaning, and she couldn’t. Aurora’s hands felt good. They felt like being wrapped in warm laundered silk, or like a lovely bubble bath, or the nicest Summer day Cleo could imagine. It was like Cleo was… melting into her touch.
“Holy shit,” Cleo exhaled as she realized just how pent up and horny she was. She knew she was already leaking — and Aurora’s hands weren’t even anywhere near her dick.
“You wanted me to let you go though, didn’t you?” Aurora asked in the gentlest tone possible.
Cleo almost wanted to shout ‘no, please don’t.’ She did want Aurora to let her go, though; Cleo wanted to go home and get the hell on with her life. She didn’t need whatever this bullshit was.
Aurora took her hands off of Cleo. Suddenly, it felt like the world had crashed on Cleo. The air felt ice cold, like she was suddenly in the North Pole. Not to mention, there was this nagging voice in her mind, telling her she was missing something important. That she had lost a part of her. Cleo tried to quiet it, but she just stood in place looking stupid.
“I thought you were going to run,” Aurora teased. “Go on. Walk. Run away.”
Cleo stood in place. She felt the ability to move coming back to her body, like she finally could bolt from this hell hole. But that didn’t erase the needy feeling, the visceral craving to be touched — no, touched by Aurora specifically.
“I… I, oh god, I…” Cleo stammered, unsure of what to say. She begged her body to cooperate.
“What? Is something still wrong? I thought you hated me. I thought you hated all rich people, all CEOs or whatever you kids think these days. So why are you still here?”
Aurora knew why. She blatantly knew why Cleo could not move a muscle, and why Cleo needed Aurora’s hands on her. She was playing dumb to piss Cleo off — and god, it was working. Cleo was pissed, and horny, and needy, and almost ravenous.
“W… what did you do to me? Why do I… need…”
“Oh, you need just a little more TLC? Why wouldn’t I give you something like that? All you need to do is ask politely, Cleo.”
Aurora didn’t touch Cleo yet — but she leaned her head in close to Cleo’s ear, and the air from her breath was as much of a tease as her hands were. “So ask.”
“No? Fine, then leave.” Aurora stepped back once again, ripping the fantastic sensation away from Cleo once again.
She couldn’t help it. Cleo needed her grasp, her grip, her hands all over her shaking body. “P-please… please touch me, Aurora…” Cleo begged slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt almost like a dog after having been trained.
“Good girl.” Those two words struck through Cleo like thunder. Heat raced in her body. Without being edged or even touched anywhere, Cleo became excessively aroused again. Her bulge was clearly visible through her black, torn skinny jeans. Aurora, to bring Cleo even further to the edge, began gently rubbing their sides.
“It’s so cute, the way you think that us rich bitches should be punished.” Aurora spoke softly into Cleo’s ear, teasing her even more. “Why should we be punished? Maybe you’re just jealous. I think you deep, deep down want to be like me. You want to go on lavish shopping sprees, expensive trips abroad, showing yourself with gold and diamonds. You want to go to the biggest, highest class mall in the city, go to the most expensive store, and buy the fanciest dress without a second thought. Over and over again.”
“N-no, I… that’s… wrong…” Cleo tried to say that, but even she didn’t believe herself. That sounded incredible. She’d always dreamed of getting fancy clothes and dining out every night… Wait, did she? No, she didn’t always think like this, at least she didn’t think so…?
“And you want to spend time around people like me anyways. Complaining about the lower class, finding new ways to get that extra dime out of people we don’t actually care about… Or maybe you’d like something a little more degrading.” Cleo’s cock twitched again at that thought, and she thought she’d finished a small one. “Maybe you’d like to get used by all of us, passed around like a wine glass at a party. Doesn’t that sound nice? Being the cute little fuck pet of a bunch of mean ladies in suits?”
Fuck. Fuck that did sound good. Cleo wanted that, and as her rational mind tried to fight back, she felt it growing dimmer as the suggestions planted their roots in her mind.
Every atom of Aurora’s movements across Cleo’s body made them pant and scream out with ecstacy. As she dragged her fingers onto Cleo’s twitching dick through her pants, Cleo’s eyes rolled back. She tried to stop herself. She desperately tried, almost tearing up as Aurora edged her through her pants.
She was ready to finish, she was so, so close, leaking and dripping, and then…
She couldn’t. Aurora whispered something else in Cleo’s ear before taking her hands off of her. “Wash away.”
All the arousal and pent up horniness dropped in an instant, washing off Cleo’s body like a waterfall. She still needed to finish, so badly, and even more so she needed to belong to Aurora… she needed that, right…?
Cleo turned around, staring at Aurora. The look in Cleo’s eyes was somehow both begging for more and pleading for the probable brainwashing to end.
“If you want to cum, then you’ll go on a date with me. Perhaps I can show you that being someone like me isn’t as bad as you think it is,” Aurora chuckled.
Cleo almost wanted to decline again. But never cumming again? Just because she denied one date? She got the impression this woman wasn’t the kind to give second chances.
Fuck it. Just one night can’t hurt.
“Fine,” Cleo agreed, resigned. “Where are we going, then?”
Aurora gave a devious chuckle. “Well, the night is young… why don’t we take a walk around the city? See how much money we can spend in one night.”
* * *
The bar was a hidden spot in the city, extremely underfunded and absolutely out of place. The city on the outside seemed much more fitting for someone like Aurora, topped with skyscrapers and lined with brazenly expensive clothing stores and diners. People who dressed like Cleo were clearly going to the queer femme bar.
So when Aurora led Cleo into the first skyscraper full of stores, she definitely looked out of place. They didn’t particularly look like the most suitable pair for each other.
Aurora noted this, telling Cleo that’ll change once she gives Cleo’s wardrobe a fancy, pricey upgrade. She told Cleo about how much better she’ll look once she gets to go shopping on her card with an absurd credit limit. Cleo’s heart dropped. The thought of having to throw away all of her old clothes hurt her. Aurora wouldn’t make her do that, she wasn’t that cruel… right?
Aurora sat Cleo in the waiting room, kissing her forehead. Once again, any form of touch from Aurora filled Cleo with a hot rush of pleasure. She needed more, and she hated that she needed more.
Cleo checked her phone again, idly playing with it. She wanted to see if her friends had checked in on her. No such luck — there was no text message or ping from them. The only text that Cleo had gotten was a laughably ironic message that her bank account balance was in the negative. That message stung Cleo’s heart, but oddly enough made them chuckle to themself. How fitting it was, to be even more tempted with the idea of becoming a mean rich businesslady outside of what Aurora was doing.
No message of any sort from her supposed date, either. Her night had certainly taken an interesting turn.
Aurora eventually came back. Cleo didn’t greet her with a smile, though a shred of excitement curled her lips upward.
“I picked a bit of everything,” Aurora started as she hung up various pieces on the rack of the ginormous dressing room. Cleo could only guess how many zeroes were on the price tags of each of the items. Let alone all of them combined.
Aurora had picked out everything — suits, business shirts, dress pants, more dresses than Cleo liked, and even some excessively fancy lingerie. Cleo saw a flash of the price tag on one of the dresses, and immediately pretended like she didn’t. At the very least, Aurora was kind enough to stick to Cleo’s favorite color palette of “black” and “somehow even darker than black.”
“Well?” Aurora urged, looking down at the seated Cleo with a knowing smile. “What are you trying on first? We have all the time for you to decide.”
Cleo looked at Aurora, and then back to the clothes. Even though they did look nice, Cleo couldn’t begin to imagine herself feeling comfortable in clothes that cost her yearly salary. “I… no! I’m… I’m not going to dress like this. I’m not some bougie bitch, like you,” she scoffed.
Aurora gave a hefty sigh. “You’re so difficult. I’m trying to make this easy for you. You don’t even have to pay for anything… what’s that word they use? Bratty? That’s what you are.”
Cleo scoffed, turning her head. She knew she was in an unwinnable situation, but she knew she’d feel even worse if she didn’t put on a fight.
“Fine,” Aurora resolved. “Reverse.”
She blinked. What? Aurora said something… a word, right…? Cleo’s mind was filled with fog. What was she thinking about? She was… saying no to these expensive garments, right?
Cleo blinked again, readjusting back to her body. Why was she rejecting Aurora’s offer to buy her these clothes, again? They were beautiful. Cleo had a reason for saying no, right? She couldn’t remember… why was everything so foggy?
“So,” Aurora cleared her throat. “Where were we? Ah, yes… what are we starting with? I personally think you’d look quite lovely in one of these dresses.”
Cleo gazed over at the dresses. She agreed, pulling one off the rack and beginning to undress in front of Aurora…
* * *
Cleo felt weird. Weird that her head was so foggy, but more so, she felt weird simply existing in clothes this expensive. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore something that was more than thirty dollars, and this outfit was at least a hundred times that.
It was almost disorienting, in a way. And it was already hard enough for Cleo to think. Aurora had checked out almost all the clothes she picked out for them. Cleo hated them. She loved them, too. She felt so pretty, so gorgeous, so… wealthy, in them.
Cleo had walked out of the store in one of the outfits. Aurora didn’t want her embarrassing either of them, after all. The outfit she chose was a silk black dress with a matching navy lingerie set underneath. The black and white heels on her feet must have costed four figures in and of themselves.
This isn’t fair, Cleo thought. I don’t need all of this stuff…
And yet, Cleo felt so beautiful. She felt more beautiful than she’d ever felt in her life, pre-transition or after coming out. Somehow, that feeling of beauty and grace silently reinforced Aurora’s conditioning. A part of Cleo’s mind fought back that idea as Aurora checked out every article. Pangs sounded in Cleo’s chest as she saw the number rise at the cashier. She hated the fact that Aurora’s money wasn’t going to something more important. Though, Cleo didn’t hate the feeling of excitement that came with seeing the number rise higher and higher. It was a rush. Like a drug.
Aurora, oddly enough, was fine carrying the three giant bags. As they exited the mall, they were met by the fanciest car Cleo had ever seen. It seemed to be Aurora’s personal driver. She stuffed the bags in the car, and the driver rode off, presumably to Aurora’s estate.
And they were off once again. The next place Aurora dragged the more willing Cleo to was another bar — this one much more high class and fancy than the bar they came from, obviously. It was more of a restaurant than a bar, and it was almost barren as the only people able to set foot in it were the ultra-rich. Aurora easily got herself and Cleo a table, and even though she was dressed up, Cleo still felt enormously out of place.
It seemed Aurora was a regular too, which only pissed Cleo off even more.
The waiter came to the table, bringing a plate of bread and butter. It looked so warm and delicious, Cleo already was drooling in her mouth.
“Good to see you, Aurora,” the waiter greeted her graciously, pouring some fine wine into her glass. “I see you’ve brought a friend. A new employee, perhaps?”
“Oh, something like that. Trust me, certainly a subordinate of some kind.” The way Aurora laughed made Cleo’s blood boil — was this some kind of joke to her? She wanted to quip back, but she failed to come up with a good retort.
“Fascinating,” the waiter exhaled. “What will she be having?”
Cleo attempted to pipe up to request something like a screwdriver — unfortunately, it seemed Aurora had other plans.
“She’ll have the special drink for tonight.”
The waiter blinked and hesitated. Cleo blinked in confusion, as well.
“Of course,” he responded. “What flavor? We have orange, strawberry, root beer…”
Aurora looked at Cleo expectantly. Cleo stammered and ordered the orange, hoping the waiter would notice her displeased scowl. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t; he certainly didn’t pay any mind if he noticed. As he walked away, Cleo looked back forward, glancing down and furrowing her eyebrows. She fiddled with the water glass absentmindedly.
“You seem rather ungrateful,” Aurora started. Cleo’s eyes glanced up, her interest piqued by being called ungrateful by a woman who was essentially brainwashing her. “Is something on your mind? Do you not know how to say ‘thank you’ to someone dropping thousands of dollars on you?”
“S… shut up,” Cleo growled, turning her head away. Much to her chagrin, Aurora found that funny for some unknown reason.
“It’s okay,” she cooed back. A hot, red flush went across Cleo’s cheeks. “I know you just need a bit more training. I’m more than happy to oblige.”
“I don’t need… training,” Cleo responded, gritting her teeth. She had no idea why it was so hard to fight back, as if the words weren’t coming naturally to her. It was hard to resist — why was it so difficult?
Aurora may have had another response planned, but she was interrupted by ‘the special drink’ being brought out on a silver platter. The waiter silently placed it beside Cleo. He might have said something else, but Cleo was too busy staring at the drink.
The drink was a bright orange, kind of like a screwdriver anyways. But the most fascinating thing was the hot pink swirls in it, going around like a lava lamp or one of those snow globes. It was hypnotic, so nice to just stare into, like visual stimulation. It looked so enticing, like it was drawing Cleo into its swirls, the brightness of the drink or how the light reflected off of it…
Cleo didn’t even begin to think what was in ‘the special drink’; she mindlessly took the drink and took a few sips of it.
Holy crap, she mouthed as the sensation from the drink hit her like a truck. She felt like the world was warping, time was slowing down. It was kind of like those times she tried acid with her friends, but much more disorienting and much less out of control. It was so, so fantastic. The taste itself was not too sweet, but not too bitter, and she could barely taste the alcohol (that is, if there even was alcohol in it.)
Before she knew it, she had downed the drink. After she did, she realized what she had done. That special drink definitely was part of the hypnosis, because it made Aurora look much, much more enticing. Somehow, Cleo’s mind felt more… susceptible… like it was even harder to fight back…
“How are you feeling, dear?” Aurora asked, clearly feigning innocence.
“I… I feel…” It was hard to think. It felt like Cleo had to physically force her brain to think, which only made her headache worse.
She had to ask. There was no way Aurora ordering her that drink was anything short of devious. “What… what was in that drink?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” Aurora chuckled. That glint in her eyes… it was so mean… and somehow, the look on her face combined with the drink made it hard for Cleo to form any sort of intelligent thought. “Just sit back and relax. I’m giving you quite a thrilling, interactive show.”
Aurora’s next three words were much more serious and demanding, nearly making the previously tough and rough girl jump in her seat. “So enjoy it.”
Cleo bit her lip. She wanted so desperately to tell Aurora to fuck off, to throw the table and run off, to punch this cocky rich bitch in the teeth. But she couldn’t. The urge to obey and please Aurora was much grander than any feeling of resistance. That was the most painful part, by far.
“What are you waiting for?” Aurora quipped. “That drink was quite pricey. As were those clothes. What do you say?”
“F…ffff….” Cleo knew what she wanted to say. “Fuck, aah… I…”
“What was that?” Aurora scolded, narrowing her eyes. “You haven’t earned that kind of language, Cleo. You don’t deserve that kind of vocabulary.” As she spoke, all the swear words Cleo had come to know, learn and love began simply fading from her mind. She tried to remember what she was trying to say. She knew it started with an F… did it? She tried to think of other curse words, and nothing came to mind.
“You’re a proper lady, now. And if you really want to be a part of high class society — and I know you do — then you’ll learn how to speak like the rest of us.”
“I — I don’t want that!” Cleo shouted. Suddenly, the need to keep her voice down. After all, she didn’t want to embarrass herself — or even worse, Aurora. “I… I don’t need to be all high class and… and like you.”
“You don’t?” Aurora grinned, seeing yet another opportunity to take advantage of Cleo. Cleo shrunk in her seat. “I don’t think that’s right. That punk persona that you’re shedding, it was just a mask. It was just something you did to get outside approval. But you’ve always had someone like me in you, telling you it’s okay to be wealthy, to appreciate the finest things in life.”
“I… that’s…” Cleo wanted to deny that. That was completely false! Was it?
“Just like clay,” Aurora whispered the trigger again, and suddenly Cleo melted once again into that obedient trance state.
“I… I….” Cleo exhaled. Not only was it hard to remember who she actually was, she was also extremely turned on again. The chair underneath her was quite the tease, and the silk underwear she wore made the idea of grinding against the chair to get off so tantalizing.
“Isn’t that right? Didn’t you always want to be like this? You always had a mind for business, for fancy dining and spending too much money on clothes, vacation homes, shopping trips in Paris…” All of those ideas sounded so good. Cleo didn’t even know if they appealed to her before then or not. But she wanted it, she wanted all of it. She didn’t just want Aurora to fuck her — she wanted to be Aurora.
“I… yes,” Cleo nodded, resigning to the brainwashing. “I… I want all of those…”
“Isn’t that better? It’s so much better to just admit what you want thank hide it.” Cleo was so focused on Aurora’s words, that when Aurora lifted her foot up to tease Cleo’s dick through her panties, Cleo couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. Aurora glared at her again, continuing to tease Cleo’s junk with slow, subtle motions. Cleo could barely stifle her indecent groaning, but she had to try.
She was melting. She was never into foot stuff, but the hypnosis made any sort of touch from Aurora feel like paradise. Already, she was so close to finishing once again. Aurora could tell. She kept edging Cleo, taking her foot off and placing it back up to work Cleo up again. Cleo could feel herself sinking — melting — into the seat. Her eyes rolled back, twitching as she tried to stop herself from…
And then Aurora took her foot off and put it back by her own body. Cleo whined as her mind readjusting back to the real world. It took ever nerve of her body to not just start jacking off then and there.
“Not yet,” Aurora smiled. “We have a bit more training to do before I’ll let you finish.”
She was momentarily in shock, the feeling of denial crashing down on her once again. This time, she was immeasurably aware of her surroundings—particularly, the way various patrons were staring at her, giving her dirty and shocked looks for her indecent showing of sexual pleasure. Cleo shrunk in her seat. How could she let herself go like that? She felt so embarrassed, and so humiliated. The worst part was she still wanted more.
Cleo couldn’t help how her eyes turned into begging puppy dog eyes. But she had to go just a little longer, as the waiter walked back over and Aurora ordered food for the two of them…
* * *
After they left the restaurant, Aurora stuffed the disoriented Cleo into a limosine and they were driven off. Cleo began to tell Aurora her address in the outskirts of the city, before Aurora stopped her.
“You’re not going back to your dumpy little apartment tonight,” Aurora teased. “You’re coming somewhere much, much nicer with me.”
“I…” Cleo began to whine again. “I have a shift tomorrow…”
“Oh, my apologies. I should have told you that you’re going to submit your immediate resignation tomorrow,” she cackled as she threw an arm around the nervous Cleo. “Or do you really want to go back to working at some cafe with a boss who treats you like dirt?”
Cleo didn’t have to answer; Aurora answered for her. “Of course you don’t. I know you too well.”
Seemed like they were getting a complete makeover not just of their body and mind, but of their entire life. Who knew how Aurora was going to change Cleo’s life from here on out? Cleo certainly didn’t know.
The limosine took them to a five-star hotel, and Aurora dragged her in. It was almost like those times Cleo would have drunken hook ups in motel rooms, only this time it was much fancier.
Aurora opened the door to the room, threw on the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, and locked it shut.
“Things are going to be changing for you,” Aurora cooed, running her hands down Cleo’s cheeks gently. Immediately, Cleo was thrown back into her deep pleasure. “You’re going to be my plaything from now on.”
Cleo needed to refuse. She had to. It sounded so good, so enticing… the idea of belonging to Aurora, and the idea of having a place in high society… they were so tempting. It felt like the temptation was making Cleo’s brain melt out of her ears.
Money, wealth, power… Cleo saw herself being showered with these things, sneering upon the lower class, wrapping herself under Aurora’s arms to double their power over others. Owning some massive corporation and fucking everyone’s lives over royally. Going into various stores and buying everything in sight. The control… it felt so good to think about…
But Cleo couldn’t. She wasn’t that kind of person. She wasn’t evil like Aurora clearly was. She took a big inhale. “No.”
Silence hung in the room like a heavy blanket. Aurora’s scowl turned into a sadistic grin, which turned into a deep cackle. “You say ‘no’ like I was giving you a choice.”
Cleo braced herself for some sort of fight — either against Aurora, or against her own mind.
“I wasn’t giving you the option to decide for yourself. My apologies for the confusion.” Aurora cleared her throat. Cleo was taken by surprise when Aurora slapped her cheek hard, making her wince. “You will be my plaything. I will make you my plaything.”
Cleo was about to resist again, trying to break free of the hypnotic chains. She was quickly shot down when Aurora began saying random words that triggered parts of her mind.
“Melt. Clay. Shine. Break. Obey. Clay. Melt. Blaze. Glow. Jewel. Break.”
Cleo wasn’t sure which words did what. She felt like her mind was a factory that Aurora had broken into, random buttons being pushed. Her body froze, the blood boiled, her mind shut on and off again repeatedly, and she went from completely unaroused to twitching at the edge of release in seconds. She didn’t have to move — Aurora grabbed her sides and moved Cleo over to the bed.
Aurora kept repeating words, some words in foreign languages, some words that seemed obscure… but the more she spoke, the more Cleo lost control of her body. Her mind was turned to some kind of pliable mushy substance as she collapsed on the bed. Aurora pushed Cleo onto her back and began shoving the fabric of her dress up. Her panties were completely soaked with her pre.
“You like this,” Aurora growled possessively. “I know how badly you want to be fucked by me. I know how badly you want me to own you. And I know you want to be like me. Just admit it, plaything.”
Cleo’s mind was bombarded once again by the random words Aurora spoke. She spoke too quickly and Cleo couldn’t even register what was happening anymore. She was shivering, horny, hallucinating, having thoughts that weren’t her own. She was brainwashed.
“Let’s try again.” Aurora grabbed the sides of Cleo’s neck, restricting her airflow. “What are you?”
“I’m… your plaything!” Cleo moaned out.
“Good. And what do you want?”
“I… I want to cum…”
Another slap hit across Cleo’s face, this time on the other side. “Stupid idiot. You don’t want to cum until I give you permission. What you want is to be rich and powerful. Rich and powerful. What do you want to be?”
“Rich and powerful!” Cleo cried out. “I want to be rich and powerful, I want to have so much power… please…”
“So good, so good for me…” Aurora smiled, kissing just below Cleo’s lips and then tracing kisses down her chin, her neck, her shoulders…
Aurora pulled back for a moment. She shed off her suit jacket, throwing it to the side and revealing a sleeveless top. Her arms were much more jacked than Cleo had anticipated — not that it mattered.
“Money, power, and fun,” Aurora whispered cunningly. “That’s all that matters to you. Money, power and fun. Money, power and fun.”
“Money, power and f-fun…” Cleo whimpered. That was all that was important. That was all that mattered to her.
Aurora’s hands drifted down to the panties, reaching underneath them and beginning to play with Cleo’s dick. Cleo almost whited out, the single touch immediately pushing her back to the edge of orgasm. Her mind continued to play the words ‘money, power, and fun’ in her head, and she eventually began chanting it out loud like a mantra.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Aurora laughed at Cleo. “You want to be me. You want to get fucked by me. Isn’t that nice?”
Her hand on Cleo’s cock began moving faster, stroking her with increasing intensity. Cleo panted out, her eyes rolling back. Her vision blurred. She must have lost some brain cells just trying not to finish. She physically couldn’t, but she physically couldn’t hold herself back anymore.
“Do you want to cum?” Aurora asked, leering down at Cleo.
“Yes! Yes, I do!” Cleo begged, already leaking even more at the thought.
“Then envision yourself. Being some executive at a massive business, ruining people’s lives just to make an extra buck or add another zero to your paycheck. Making thousands of dollars a day — no, an hour — and then going out to buy out another poor business owner, and going shopping with your other rich friends. Sounds good? Can you see that?”
“Yes… yes, I want that…” Cleo’s whining reached soprano notes.
“Do you care about your old life anymore? Do you want to go back, ever?”
“No, no, I don’t want to go back,” she admitted, the last rational piece of her mind fading away. “I want to be you, I want to be with you… please, please, please…”
Aurora kept stroking, keeping Cleo on the edge for just another minute. Once she saw that Cleo couldn’t possibly hold herself back anymore, she said one final word, one last trigger. “Go.”
Cleo finished, shooting her seed all over herself and all over Aurora’s hand as well. She must have passed out momentarily again, dissociating from the waking world from all the pleasure. Her hips bucked back and forth as she imagined being showered with gold and diamonds, all the power she could have, and how terribly she could treat people. Why did she ever say no? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even remember why she’d hate people like herself or Aurora for so long.
She had sealed the deal with that orgasm, her mind and body forever belonging to Aurora. As she calmed down from the climax, Aurora got onto the bed and provided some simple aftercare. Stroking and cuddling her body lightly, she stayed with Cleo as Cleo came back to the waking world, her arousal fading away. Her desire for money, power, and fun stayed with her — branded into her mind.
“So, your friends were all like how you used to be, yes?” Aurora asked. “I can’t imagine you’d have much need for them now… why don’t you leave them behind, as well?”
Cleo couldn’t resist; after all, she didn’t see any need to keep them in her life either. She nodded. “I… I don’t need them anymore.”
As if on cue, Cleo’s phone pinged. Slowly moving her body, she opened her phone and saw a text from one of her now-former friends. Lacy, a kind, sweet girl who couldn’t possibly hurt a fly, had reached out to her out of worry. The text read, “Are you okay? We haven’t heard from you all night. Want to talk?”
Cleo didn’t immediately respond. Aurora saw the look on her face, somehow knowing that was one of her friends.
“Is that one of the people you’re leaving behind? Go on, delete that text.”
Cleo’s finger hovered over the ‘delete message’ button, intent on erasing all of her old contacts as well. And then, another much more enticing thought popped into her head. Lacy was a sweet enough girl, and Cleo had to admit that she felt at least slightly guilty leaving her behind. Why not have her join them?
Cleo turned to Aurora, the same kind of powerful and sadistic grin spreading across her face. “Actually… how do you feel about shy, unassertive blonde girls?”