Bending down, Victoria placed the pumpkin on their front porch, displaying it prominently. Its design was the standard triangular eyes and jagged teeth, nothing fancy or out of the ordinary.

Casting her eyes over the exterior of their house, she had to admit they hadn’t done much in the way of decorations this year. But to be fair, neither she nor her partner had had much time to even think about it - they’d both been busy with work all week. Samantha had her usual workload as an elementary school teacher (and Victoria was still surprised by how much lesson planning that apparently entailed), while the restaurant where Vicky worked had been giving her more and more hours lately (which was a vote of confidence given that she’d barely been working there for three months). Friday night - Halloween itself - was the first night all week that they both had free. It was probably going to be a pretty quiet affair compared to previous years, when they’d often be either hosting or attending parties - they were staying in all night, giving out candy to trick-or-treaters and probably watching a scary movie or two.

Victoria hadn’t even put much work into her costume - she was dressed as a pirate, which consisted of nothing more than a loose white shirt, a toy sword tucked into her belt, and a red scarf wrapped around her hair. She hadn’t even managed to find an eyepatch - she’d been sure they’d had one from a previous costume party, but her search had been neither successful nor particularly thorough. Her disappointment in her lack of effort was stifled by her lack of energy after her long day at work. Frankly, any kids who happened to visit their apartment were lucky she’d bothered with the scarf.

This is why Samantha’s the teacher, not me, she thought with a wry grin, remembering that morning. In stark contrast to Victoria, Samantha had gone to a huge amount of trouble with her own costume. The outfit and accompanying makeup had been so elaborate, she’d needed her girlfriend’s help with it (a reversal of the usual state of affairs, where the mentally-restricted Vicky was the one who needed to be dressed).

As if summoned by her thoughts, Samantha’s car pulled up. Victoria smiled as the teacher climbed out of her vehicle. “I’m sorry, young lady - while your costume is very impressive, we’re not handing out candy until 6 PM. Please come back later!”

“Shut up,” Samantha chuckled.

“I thought you were supposed to be silent?”

“That’s mimes. I’m a pierrot - they’re usually silent, but not all the time. I think.” She giggled. “Besides, do you think I’d be able to control a class of nine-year-olds without saying a word? Let alone teach them anything!”

Samantha had been walking the short distance to their front door as she’d been speaking, her steps just a little flamboyant. Standing only a couple of feet from Vicky now, she beamed at her, raised a hand, and waved it energetically. She seemed more animated than usual, as if the clownlike garb was bringing out her childish, playful side.

The outfit in question consisted of an oversized, thick white satin top with three big fluffy black ‘buttons’ down the front, with matching white pants. Her sleeves and pant legs were frilled at the ends, and she wore a broad frilly collaret round her neck, white gloves on her hands, and gleaming black shoes on her feet. On her head was a white conical hat, into which her hair (which she’d arranged in a messy bun) was tucked, though plenty of brunette ringlets stuck out, forming a pretty fringe. Her already-pale face had been powdered white, with black makeup surrounding her eyes in teardrop shapes, and her eyebrows and lips were similarly jet-black.

“Freak any of the kids out?”

Samantha gasped and put a hand to her chest in mock horror. “Moi? How dare you, madam?” They both laughed. “Actually, Claudine was a bit unnerved by me at first, but she got used to it. The rest of them loved it, especially when I did some little mime acts.”

“Oh, you’ve got to show me that,” Victoria pleaded.

Samantha grinned coyly. “Maybe later, if you’re a good girl.”

“Nngh,” Vicky replied eloquently, feeling the familiar tremble of pleasure as a submissive voice in her mind insisted, I’m a good girl. But she held her ground, standing in front of the door to block Samantha from entering the apartment. “Wh-what if I want to see it now?”

Her girlfriend raised a darkened eyebrow. “O-ho! So we’re being bratty tonight, huh? Haven’t seen much of this since Puppyfest...”

Smiling at the fond memory, Victoria nonetheless tried to focus on the here-and-now, and look as intimidating as she could. Never mind that she’d felt like she’d had a collar buckled around her brain ever since that weekend of unrelenting domestication, the end of the leash constantly in Samantha’s grasp, and that she now felt a gentle tug on that leash once again, just from the slightest teasing by her Master...

“That’s right,” she said firmly, folding her arms and trying to form a malicious smile, though she was sure she looked at least a little flustered. “After all, I’ve had a very long day, and I’d love some entertainment by such a delightful pierrot. Not a perfect pierrot, but pretty close...”

Samantha looked outraged, momentarily forgetting to tease Victoria and undermine her brattiness. “What d’you mean, ‘not perfect’? What’s wrong with this?” She gestured to her outfit.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with the costume,” Victoria assured her. “You’re just a little too talkative. After all...” She stepped closer to her girlfriend, her wicked smile now in full effect, no longer feeling flustered and wrong-footed. “Perfect pierrots are seen, not heard,” she said in a low voice. “So you won’t speak another word.”

Samantha blinked, gazing at Victoria with wide eyes for several long seconds. Then her face scrunched up into a comically grumpy expression, and she put her hands on her hips and glared at her girlfriend, who fell about laughing. “That’s better! Now you really are a perfect pierrot,” she teased.

That morning, while she’d been looming over a seated Samantha helping with her makeup, Victoria had taken the opportunity to entrance her with her boobs, hypnotising her and having her stare mindlessly at her chest. She’d given her the rhyming trigger phrase, which would not only rob her of the power of speech, but force her to exaggerate all her movements and expressions into an over-the-top performance, like a real pierrot. Just as Samantha had trapped a conscious but helpless Vicky inside an excitable puppy-girl that weekend in June, now Victoria had trapped Samantha in the hybrid mime-clown.

In that long pause after the trigger had been used, she’d been struggling to open her mouth and speak, but none of her inner turmoil had been evident on her blankly staring face, her lips not even twitching, unable to break character at all. (After all, a pierrot wouldn’t be trying to talk, because they can’t.) Now her usual sulky pout had been turned up from everyday grumpiness to cartoonish super-grumpiness.

Victoria stepped backwards through the open door, her eyes fixed on her pierrot partner, still cackling with glee. She didn’t really have an endgame in mind - she had no specific plans regarding what to do with or to the silenced Samantha. All she’d wanted was to enact the trope she’d seen in various Halloween episodes of TV shows (The Simpsons, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Fairly OddParents) and turn her girlfriend into the very costume she wore.

Samantha made no move to follow her, remaining on their front porch. Her face shifted into an overly thoughtful expression, frowning, pouting and staring off into space. One hand was still on her hip, but she moved the other up to stroke her chin.

Victoria giggled. “Penny for your thoughts? Not that you can tell me...”

Remaining in her contemplative pose for a few more seconds, Samantha suddenly gasped, her eyes lighting up, and snapped her fingers - the classic ‘Eureka!’ pose. Neither her gasp nor her snap were audible. Then she clasped her hands behind her back and leered evilly, angling her face downwards, her chin pressing down into her neck, her mouth grinning widely, staring at Victoria with hooded eyes.

The submissive shivered. Surely, there was no way Samantha could control her, or use any of her triggers, without being able to speak?

Then she remembered that not all her triggers required the use of words, and had one second to curse inwardly before her muted Master, still in that villainous pose, held out a hand.

“Oh...” Vicky whimpered, all the stuffing knocked out of her in an instant. She wasn’t bratty. She wasn’t intimidating. She was weak and dumb and helpless, lost without her Master. Darting through the doorway, she took Samantha’s hand, feeling a warm wave of relief and comfort as their fingers interlocked.

The hypnotised pierrot turned and bounded along the porch, pulling a blushing Vicky along with her, swinging their joined hands with each bouncing step. Reaching the end of the wooden deck, Samantha released her girlfriend’s hand, jumped back to create some distance between them, and looked her in the eyes. Raising her hand, she extended an index finger and held it firmly in front of Vicky’s face, giving her a pointed stare.

Vicky gulped. The message was clear, just from the look and the gesture: Stay. “Yes, Master,” she mumbled.

Samantha gave her a broad, cheerful smile, much like the one she’d worn when she’d first arrived home. Then she turned and skipped back indoors.

“Are you really gonna just leave me out here?” Vicky called after her, trying to make herself heard by Samantha while avoiding drawing attention from anyone passing by on the street outside - not an easy task. “The sun’s gonna set soon, it’ll get cold...”

Moments later Samantha returned, now carrying a brown leather jacket, which she slipped over Victoria’s shoulders. Sighing, Victoria slid her arms into the sleeves. It would keep her warm, she conceded - and it fit with her pirate costume. Samantha gazed and gestured at her admiringly, making it obvious that she liked the look, ignoring Victoria’s exasperated eyerolls.

“How long am I gonna be stuck here?” Victoria whined. In lieu of an answer, her clownish girlfriend pranced back inside, returning with a large bowl of candy. She held it out and gazed beseechingly at the immobilised submissive, who took it warily. “This is for trick-or-treaters, right?” Samantha nodded overenthusiastically. She then mimed taking a piece of candy out of the bowl, and then another, and another. She pretended to rub her eyes, raising clenched fists to her face and turning them in mid-air an inch away from her face, and then adopted a dumbstruck expression, glancing in and around the bowl as if she couldn’t see any candy. Finally, she smiled at Victoria and raised her hands in front of her in a ‘ta-da’ pose.

Blinking, Victoria processed the mime act and realised what it must mean. “I have to stay out here... until all the candy’s been taken?”

Samantha gave her a huge grin, her teeth showing.

“But - but this bowl’s huge! I’ll be stuck out here for hours! That’s so unfa-” Samantha held up a hand towards Vicky’s face, a gloved finger hovering just in front of her lips. The submissive instantly fell silent.

The pierrot mimed turning a key in a lock, lifted her hand away from Vicky’s face, and threw the imaginary key over her shoulder, her eyes and mouth wide in an expression of manic glee. She gave an over-the-top, completely silent belly laugh, her back arching as the top half of her body rocked back, her hands held up in front of her face, covering her smiling mouth. Then she gave another exaggerated wave, matching the one she’d given when she’d returned home, and skipped back inside, closing the door behind her this time.

Left standing on the deck with a full bowl of candy in her arms, Vicky fumed silently. Turnabout was fair play, she supposed. It served her right for trying to get one over her Master - and for not putting more effort into the Halloween decorations. Now she was a decoration, and a candy dispenser. Glancing over her shoulder through the front window of their house, she could see Samantha the pierrot pointing and laughing inaudibly at her. Victoria smirked back.

It looked like it really was going to be their quietest Halloween ever.