Domestic Doll Services: The Billionaire & The Bimbos

by barbararwetzel

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #dom:male #f/m #humiliation #scifi #sub:female #bondage #clothing #growth #robots

John Davidson, self made, billionaire, is fed up with his current girlfriend, vapid pop star Savannah Sweetness. Twice divorced already, her uppity attitudes have grown old and he is able to get the women in his life to see that their duty and purpose is to be bimbos.

DISCLAIMER: This book is fiction. Every name, place, character, and event are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is pure coincidence. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

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INSPIRATIONS: Whyte, Colleen’s Ideals of Others.

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ABOUT: Domestic Doll Services is a series of stories about a corporation that offers lifelike “Domestic Dolls” for sale. These “Dolls” are sold for domestic use primarily, but the Dolls, designed to the whims of the buyer, which often appeared as a mix of super model and stripper, obviously had a sexual use as well. Many of the Domestic Dolls for sale were actually robots. However, many were not...

Domestic Doll Services stories can, more or less, unless noted, be read in any order. This story mostly stands alone continuity wise. There is a cameo at the beginning of this story by Kaylie Cullen, who is the protagonist of Domestic Doll Services: Guilt Alleviation.


* * *

Kaylie Cullen stood on the auction floor alone. Mrs. Cullen had been Kaylie MacPherson, introverted scion of a climate destroying oil conglomerate. She inherited the company after her father’s sudden death and had given it all up to marry her husband William Cullen, who was the CEO of Domestic Doll Services. They gave her fortune away to charity and she settled into the happy life of a docile housewife. DDS offered lifelike assistants for a variety of domestic and public resource uses. As society became more automated, the need for full time workers was further alleviated by Domestic Dolls.

Oh, right, they were also used for sex. It is probably important to mention that at this point.

The Cullen household was filled with Domestic Dolls. Mrs. Cullen’s personal assistant Isleen was a Domestic Doll as was their maid, cook, and driver. Kaylie now ran a charitable service, mostly in an honorific sense, she did drop by the office once a week, that helped at risk young women get their lives right to find success as women in the modern world. They had Domestic Dolls as counselors, with some human supervision, and their security also came from DDS via their new Domestic Doll Soldiers line.

Today, however, Kaylie was seeking a Domestic Doll for sex. She had asked her husband for permission to purchase a new Doll for their home. He had been going on various trips recently on DDS business that kept him away for extended periods of time. While her personal assistant was an amusing distraction, she thought of Isleen as a sister in service to their Master and less as some kind of fuck doll. What Kaylie wanted now was someone, a woman, of course, who would live for her pleasure. Of course, they could also rent her out when not needed and eventually flip the Doll into a profitable sale if a buyer, male or female, becomes fascinated by the Doll. Kaylie did get bored with the toys Master gave her.

She leaned against a wall reading messages from her work account. Despite much of the job at the foundation being honorific, there were still decisions to be made and details she wanted to be involved in. Her very short pixie cut blonde hair framed a small face that also wore black glasses. A sweater dress, stockings, and pumps accentuated her increasingly toned body and an impressively augmented chest. No matter how large her breasts were, or how hard her trainer worked her, at the end of the day Kaylie was a wallflower and an introvert. She would rather do work than socialize any day of the week.

After a few minutes of being left alone, a middle aged man approached her with a wave. Kaylie ceased texting and smiled at him, which she had been trained to do. Her default focus was always on men, but especially if they were going to purchase a Domestic Doll. That helps her husband, which was the duty she lived by. She forgot about her phone and placed her manicured hands in front as trained.

“Hi,” the man began. He had blond, slightly graying, hair and an awkward smirk on his face. His expression seemed familiar to Mrs. Cullen. Kaylie’s retinal scanner alerted her that he was John Davidson the billionaire scion of the founder of a leading health care company. Unlike her rejection of the selfish, planet destroying, values of her own father’s company, Davidson had gleefully taken up the mantle of his daddy’s company and inherited it when he died. He had already gone through hundreds of millions of his father’s money and after two divorces was now dating some pop star. She internally rolled her eyes at his inability to not stare at her chest.

“Oh, hello, um...” She feigned not knowing who he was to hide the fact that she had, indeed, been converted, at her request, to a Domestic Doll to help purgate herself of the sins of her family. Kaylie’s conditioning was, according to Mr. Cullen, one of the easiest due to her enthusiasm for it.

“John, uh, John Davidson,” he replied with a very firm handshake. If Kaylie’s skin was not coated with an unseen nanite fiber to avoid injury, it probably would have hurt her a lot. What is it with men and handshakes? Macho men bored her.

“Kaylie Cullen.” She stared to him blankly from behind her black glasses. Just outside of their view, workers began bringing in the Domestic Dolls for sale. Each was gently posed while in the “off” position.

“Oh yeah,” John said with a chuckle, “you’re the one who is married to one of the heads of this whole thing. You gave up all that oil money. I thought that was a mistake.” He kept staring at her chest.

Kaylie internally tensed up at his forward nature. Men were so rude. “Well it all went to charity. We’ve started—”

“Charity,” he scoffed, “yeah I have a few of those. Good for tax credits!” He grinned in a way that was clear he was quite impressed with himself. His lawyer had gotten a bit uppity with him about some of the more creative deductions he had come up with, and after a trip to Domestic Doll Services she had begun to see it his way and now eagerly worked to keep his money where it belonged, which was in his bank account and not those idiots in the government.

Kaylie went to respond, but the auctioneer began the auction. She already knew which...product...had caught her eye and would be bought tonight, so the pixie haired Domestic Doll wife decided to step back and observe the room. There were about twenty people, men besides one woman, in the room preparing to make bids. Most had done prep work beforehand, so they were just waiting for their turn. However, one person was still making decisions.

John remained standing where he was, shifting awkwardly, staring at the Domestic Dolls being wheeled onto the stage. Each was frozen in place, mostly at attention, but a few were posed differently. When Kaylie looked over at him, she was stunned to notice the hard on barely hidden by his pants. He seemed unaware of it because his focus was on staring at the frozen Domestic Dolls on the stage. Did he get sexually excited by that? In her time married to William, she had heard about some...odd...fetishes, for sure, so Kaylie just giggled to herself and waited for the Doll she sought to purchase was brought onto stage.

Kaylie’s Doll was the last one of the night. The Doll was German and Polish with long, blonde, hair, and deep green eyes. Her permanent, slight, tan brought out beautiful cheekbones and a pouty mouth. Mrs. Cullen had a virtually unlimited budget for this purchase, so she doubled an opening bid plus a little more to make sure she won the auction and did, easily, win the purchase. Beyond the bid being quite high, the other buyers deferred to her due to their business dealings, if you will, with her husband.

Once the purchase was confirmed, the Doll blinked into life and swayed over to her new Mistress in a pink dress, white stockings, and high heels the same color as her dress. She bowed, slowly, and rather sensually, rose back up, and then softly smiled. “Mrs. Cullen, this Domestic Doll has been purchased by Mr. Cullen to aide you in pleasing him. How will she serve?”

Kaylie ran a hand over her deeply feminine face. She loved the idea of the money not being hers. Having financial independence just sounded exhausting. Why would any woman want that? “Please report for personalized conditioning. I am staying over tonight and will pick you up tomorrow morning.” She leaned in and gently kissed the Doll. It swayed away to obey the command.

Kaylie watched for a moment and then went to say goodbye to a few people she knew. You began to see the same sorts of people at these events and others were known to her through William, so there were many who were familiar to her. She was a very introverted person, but did enjoy coming out to these kinds of events sometimes. If anxiety flowed her body, the Domestic Doll could always run a pleasant programming script to get through a social situation.

John was on the other side of the room trying to chat up another woman who had purchased a female Domestic Doll. It was pretty clear this was because she was not interested in the Y chromosome, but that did not stop him from hitting on her. Kaylie came over, said hello to the woman, who she had met previously, and gave her a chance to leave, which she gave the blonde Domestic Doll a grateful smile for in return that had a hint of flirtation in it.

“Hey, why didn’t you buy a Doll?” At this point, Kaylie was genuinely curious about his reasoning given his hard-on earlier.

“Oh,” he said with a dismissive, distracted, shrug, “I decided I didn’t want any! They just didn’t have what I want I guess.” The last few words came out like a pout.

“Huh,” Kaylie replied after a moment. They said their goodbyes and John gave her an awkward wave. The blonde Domestic Doll humanitarian barely remembered the conversation after it ended. She could not wait to return to the feet of her wonderful husband and Master.

After taking the elevator to the private parking lot for...special...clients of the hotel, John quickly made it to the town car that waited for him. His leather mini-skirt clad driver, a beautiful African American woman named Tasha, came out of the town car she had been waiting in “sleep mode” for him to greet her Master. “Take me home, this was stupid,” he angrily spat at the former model who had spurned his advances at a party. Having been reconditioned by Domestic Doll Services, she would do anything to please him now.

He sighed after getting into the back seat of the car. “Tasha, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Why did he yell at what was essential a tin can with skin? Why did he bother to apologize? She was basically a machine at this point! John shuddered at how much more personable he was with machines than with people. He knew it was weird, but what could he do at this point?

“Yes, Master,” she replied in a quiet monotone. Tasha was not much of a conversationalist. Her response file only consisted of “Yes, Master,” and “No, Master.”

John had his driver take him back to the large 30 story building he inherited from his father. He lived on the top floor, but there was another floor which held a deep, dark, secret. It had bothered him a lot when Kaylie asked why he had not bought a Domestic Doll.

It was true that he had shown up with all intentions of buying one as a surprise for his new girlfriend, the failed pop, then country, and finally an embarrassing attempt at a rap album, singer Savannah Sweetness. She was pushing 40 and now looking to reset herself in the public via a new relationship. The blonde beauty had begun dating John with that in mind. He knew it and also remembered what had happened to his previous wives, but the billionaire was certain he would do it again. The Dolls were never perfect enough, at least until a few changes were made. He did, even though about to indulge his perversions, hope things would turn out right with Savannah and her 19 year old daughter. They had a big falling out when he began dating her and had left a note saying to not contact the college student.

In the elevator, John entered a special code and then inserted a key that he only had access to outside of his security team. After a few seconds, the elevator hummed back to life and began moving to a special floor. A special floor which held his former wives.

Kaylie’s question really had bothered John, and his entire evening had been shaken up. It made him anxious enough that he just had to visit them. The lights came on as he entered the floor. A series of podiums displayed different posed women. His two former wives, a model, and a few random women who had caught his eye all were kept frozen bent over, at attention, kneeling, masturbating, and with a look of deep surprise respectively. All had been converted into Domestic Dolls and kept in this frozen mode.

John ran his hand over his second wife’s body. She stood at attention in a pink maid uniform. Her platinum, teased, hair as high above her head as the heels on her feet. Mariska had been a great wife for awhile: Looked great, fucked like a machine, got lots of free press for him by acting like an idiot in public, but eventually he lost interest just like his first wife. She began demanding stuff...bigger allowance, more time with him, and then the final straw was the Finnish model’s desire for a family...he shuddered at the thought of it.

His first wife had two adult aged children already, so they were already done growing up. He made a pass at the daughter at the party celebrating her college graduation and Svetlana had moved to divorce him almost immediately. Lana was now permanently bent over in a tiny skirt, pumps, and a torn top that exposed a bit of her augmented right breast from behind. He turned her “on” once in awhile to take the Ukrainian beauty from behind, and she thanked him, as she had been programmed to, afterwards, before returned to her pose. The daughter had been altered to desire only the life of a vapid party girl until her overdose took over the headlines when one of John’s companies had a terrible day at the stock market.

Both of them were occasionally brought out for a public appearance, but also asked for privacy because they had decided to lead a life outside of the public eye. The morons who followed celebrity gossip blogs ate that crap up and thought it was so “brave” of them.

Just as John was about look over to the kneeling, frozen in place, model who had once slapped him at a party, the echoed clicks of a pair of high heels could be heard entering the secret floor. A dark haired Domestic Doll wearing a very brief maid uniform swayed towards him. “Finally! You know what to do.” She knelt before him, undid his belt, and began sucking him off with her pouty mouth. He had not even bothered to name the literally Domestic Doll. She cooked, cleaned, and sucked with proficiency.

John grunted loudly as he shot cum all over her face. He loved treating women like things. There was no time in his days for those who did not comply. It unnerved him when they did not fulfill his needs or desires. Having orgasmed, he felt a bit better. The stress of the day, especially that conversation with Kaylie, had left him.

Tomorrow, his assistant had an important meeting to attend for him. At lunch, he would meet up with Savannah. She had said there was something they needed to discuss. He sighed, walked to the door, buckling his pants on the way, and turned the lights off on the frozen women and left the floor for his private apartment.

* * *

The next day, Savannah and John met up for lunch. The pop star walked into his apartment wearing a white miniskirt, high heeled boots, and a snug sweater. He stared at her bare legs as she crossed the room to kiss him. She should be wearing some kind of hosiery like he always wanted! They had gotten into a fight about this issue last week, so he bit down and decided not to raise it again. Nevertheless, it bothered him.

Savannah began blathering on and on about some such thing or another. She never stopped talking whether it was about herself, or some shopping trip, or, on their last date, how maybe the key to her music career would be combining rap and country on a new album. John got bored fast, but tuned back in when she began talking about her daughter Melanie.

“She just ran off! Didn’t want to be found. Ugh, she is such a jerk. I gave her everything!” Savannah pouted, her full, collagen filled, lips making a frown. Suddenly, she brightened. “I bet you know someone who could find her! Use your millions for it.” It was clear this relationship was going nowhere, but if John could at least find her daughter it was worth it.

“Billions? Do I have billions now?” John chuckled to himself, obviously very impressed with the joke. “Yeah, uh, I think I can do something.” He suddenly brightened. “Oh! That reporter who just interviewed me! She used to do investigation for that other newspaper. Rossi!”

Savannah nodded. Jacqueline Rossi was a former investigative reporter who now served up puff piece celebrity gossip to the same morons who bought Miss Sweetness’ albums. “Oh, yeah, I know who she is...she interviewed me when my album came out.” She meant the currently at .03 out of 5 stars rated attempt at a rap album after her failed country album, which was after her pop career fell apart. What neither knew was that what they knew as Miss Rossi was actually a clone. The real Miss Rossi had been converted into a Domestic Doll after attempting to interview Domestic Doll Services’ CEO Simon Ward to get dirt on him. He decided to keep her for himself and had a clone created that would sell out her ideals to turn towards banality as a final humiliation.

“Well, okay, yeah,” John muttered, “I can talk to her and see what she can do!” He looked around distractedly, wondering when their lunch would arrive. That maid of his needed a stern fucking later.

Savannah suddenly stood up and stood before her lover. “Do it today! John...John,” she took his hands in her own, “you always get so distracted. Make the call now,” she leaned in and kissed him, “and I’ll give you the best blowjob you’ve had this decade.” She stared at him with a deep look of arousal, mostly faked, on her face.

John quickly pulled his phone out and flipped through his address book to find Rossi’s private number. He had gotten it from Domestic Doll Services in case he ever needed any help with publicity. As his fingers touched the “call” button, Savannah began undoing his belt and knelt down to suck him off. He stammered through the conversation and explained that his girlfriend needed to find her daughter, who had run off somewhere.

Savannah’s mouth ran up and down his hard cock. Sucking dick was meaningless to her at this point. The brunette’s first break as a singer came after letting a big wig producer cum all over her face. It was just how it was for singers. She had done it a number of show hosts, interviewers, a Hollywood mover and shaker or two, and using her mouth to get John to focus enough to make the call was, she thought as he came in her mouth, a fine enough trade off so she could find her absent daughter.

She cleaned herself up and then returned to the room. The conversation had been around ten minutes or so. Savannah was skilled enough to keep him from cumming until the call ended. “How did it go?” Knowing John he probably mentally pictured Jacqueline while she had fellated him, trying to catch his attention again. For the record, he totally did picture Miss Rossi.

“Um, yeah,” John awkwardly began, “she said that she doesn’t really do investigations anymore, but knew others that did. She forwarded what you want to someone at Domestic Doll Services. They have some military thing now that can go undercover and find her wherever she is and then bring her back.”

“Domestic Doll Soldiers,” Savannah confirmed. A few weeks ago, she had been out shopping when a protest broke out down town. The latex clad soldiers, as mindless as the average Domestic Doll, had been there just to “observe,” but were terrifying in their hive like actions. They looked like they could kill someone in a split second. The empty looks in their eyes were haunting.

“Yeah!” John confirmed her quiet statement. “They’ll find her and bring her in. I’d like to meet your daughter.” Melanie had left for parts unknown right when he had begun dating Savannah. He was suddenly very curious about the nineteen year old.

Savannah suddenly looked really serious. She walked over, heels clicking across the hard floor, and hugged John. “Thank you. I do hope they can help, but I don’t want her harmed. I’ve seen those soldiers...they seemed almost human, but then when they turn towards you they look right through you. It’s like their programming doesn’t allow them to see any human as anything but a target.” This was truer than Miss Sweetness could even conceive with her bubble brained mind.

John held her for a moment, unsure what else to do. These kinds of situations were always weird for him. Showing appropriate affection was something he did not do well. He never felt like he did the right thing. “Well, hey, we can get her help? If she left something must be wrong, right?” A second passed before he realized how bad that sounded. “Like, I mean, you’re a great mom and all, but a lot of women rebel and all. Not all of them can be you.”

Savannah sighed. “Honey...” She moved forward a ran a long nail over his arm. “...You just keep focused on making sure Melanie comes home.” The pop singer paused and paced the room briefly. “Maybe she does need some help. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t get her enough structure? I was a star by her age and I resented how much control my parents had over me. I didn’t want that for her, but maybe I should have been more strict? I was already married, the first time, and about to have her by then.”

Her pouting gave John an idea. Yeah, a good idea. “Maybe that would be best...she might need someone to help her...find her place in the world.” His mind began racing, which calmed him down and made his commentary seem much more normal than usual. “It might be good for you too.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I know a guy...he helped one of my exes a lot...yeah...a lot. She was a lot better after talking to him. He’s really good.” That he was a hypno-therapist and had been involved in the brainwashing of his former wives was information Savannah did not need at this point.

His girlfriend nodded, but also frowned. “I don’t want to end up a recluse like them though! I am still going to revive my career. I think I might try getting into musicals since everyone seems to love them now! I could do a reality show...maybe you can help with that?” She patted her lashes at him seductively, but John just shrugged as he barely noticed her flirtations while his mind raced with ideas for what his friend could do with them.

* * *

Melanie Sweetness, seriously Savannah had legally changed their family name when Melanie was growing up, bashed her hand against the alarm to stop its infernal ringing. She had taken on an alias after running away to go to university in the seclusion of southern New Jersey. Her campus was in the middle of nowhere and far enough away from the bright lights of stardom that paparazzi would leave her the fuck alone. It was easy enough to get a fake background. She had overheard the children of various other celebrities talk about it for years. The average college aged student would remember her mother as a has been, or never was, or her various meltdowns that were filmed by some random shithead, and more than likely not even think back to the brief moments in the press for the 20 year old. So far, so good.

The brunette had tried to be as inconspicuous as possible while working towards her degree, but a genuine urge towards activism had pushed her into a more public presence. She had taken part in a few protests on campus and slid into the local activist movement with surprising ease. It certainly helped that Melanie, no matter how much she tried to hide it, was just as beautiful as her mother. Young men flocked to her, but that was where her current problem began.

Earlier in the week, she had fallen out with her new activist friends. Melanie had been hooking up with a very cute young man after protest planning meetings. He was charming and seemed, to a naive, privileged, daughter of a vapid celebrity, to be sincere in his politics. Like so many young men who claim to be progressive and feminist, he just wanted to fuck her. When Melanie realized his insincerity, she immediately broke up with him, which is what led to the three day IceCream-Streaming App-Booze bender her hangover was from at the moment.

He had gone back to their “friends” and spoke about how much of a slut Melanie had been with him, which was a bit of an exaggeration of a few sexual encounters and one blowjob. In his view, which was taken as empirical truth over a woman’s version of events by these “progressives,” she was a fraud who only got involved in activism to hook up with men. “Just like those trendy bimbos at the sorority house,” proclaimed the super sensitive male feminist.

Melanie had been ostracized from the activist community afterwards. Her feminist friends all defended their male ally over her. One, who often was outspoken on campus about “sisterhood,” even began a rumor that there were more than one partner for the fallen activist. You know, feminist sisterhood and all.

Her social shame afterwards led the brunette to a lost weekend of rom-coms on the streaming app, awful college town take out, and lots, and lots, of booze. Growing up as the daughter of an absentee celebrity alcohol was not something new to her, but she had definitely gone overboard. Her head pounded and body ached from passing out in an unpleasant position. All that ice cream, combined with under-cooked take out, was violently lurching around her stomach.

She checked her phone. There were no new messages. Frowning, Melanie tossed it onto the bed. A moment later, there was some commotion in the common area she shared with a few other young women in their brown house. The front door to her apartment was smashed open by two muscular, latex clad, women. The purple latex sat snug around their entire bodies besides holes from their eyes, ears, and mouths. Upon seeing the emptiness in their eyes, Melanie realized they were not people, but actually Domestic Doll Soldiers.

“Target is in range,” the first stated in a monotone voice into her ear piece. The Domestic Doll Soldier had once been the girlfriend of a small time criminal who got swept up in a drug sting. Due to being “in love” with him, she had refused to give information to government agents. After a few days under the supervision of Domestic Doll Soldiers, the now compliant young woman answered every question and then even, as per the severe brainwashing she had endured, volunteered for a life of mindless services as a part of DDS.

“Melanie Sweetness!” The other shouted at her in a similarly empty voice. “You are under arrest.”

“F-F-For what? What did I do?” Melanie’s mind raced. Their last protest had gotten a little out of hand, but surely not enough for DDS to get involved. Did someone narc on her?

The Domestic Doll Soldiers began moving across the room towards her. Melanie took a few steps back, but quickly found herself against the wall. The first Soldier grabbed her in a rest hold, tossing the unruly woman around like a doll. The second Soldier stepped forward with precision, tilted Melanie’s neck sideways, and injected a needle into it which expanded from her palm. The brunette gasped, but then straightened. Her eyes found the same empty expression the Soldiers did. Wireless earbuds were slid gently into her ears.

“Target acquired,” both Soldiers announced. The three of them beamed away to the secret rendezvous point which DDS, via Miss Rossi, had created for Mr. Davidson and Miss Sweetness.

A day had passed since Melanie’s sudden disappearance from campus. Rumors were planted that she had left. While in custody of a Domestic Doll Soldiers unit, the booze in her system had been cleaned out. While under the control of the hypnotic sedative the Soldier had inserted into her, she told her story to the case worker assigned to assist in an initial assessment before returning her to John and Savannah.

Melanie blinked back into existence and found Savannah and her boyfriend staring at her. She squinted at them, but found she could not speak. Nothing about that seemed odd to her, but the brunette was confused about how she had ended up here.

“Melanie,” Savannah began tentatively, “we had you brought here once we found out where you had run off too. You really scared me.” The last few words came out with a gasp. She was genuinely upset. Her gaze turned to John, who nodded along to show his own concern. Most of his stare however, was at Melanie’s shapely legs, currently shown off by the dress she had been put in by DDS before returning her here.

“Yeah,” John offered after a few seconds of silence, “we heard about why you left college...” He paused for a moment and waited to see if Melanie reacted. One of the first things conditioned into her was a lack of concern for how her mother and John had found where she had been hiding out. Her lack of response confirmed the indoctrination had worked.

“They...They were really mean. I thought I had found friends, but I was really wrong.” A few tears streamed down her face as a subliminally conditioned statement came out of her mouth. “College is not for me. I wanted to come home almost right away, but I was scared.”

Savannah nodded and, much more composed now, sat down next to her daughter. “I agree that it was time for you to come home. You know, I rebelled a few times too, but I always came home. I didn’t want to tour, or record an album, or work with a producer, but I always came back into the fold.” It may be hard to believe, but the pop singer was not actually brainwashed: She just kept coming home each time like the terrified, naive, young adult that was really her persona.

Melanie nodded. “I just wanted to get away from everything and be my own person. I thought I could get away....from all of this.” She looked over at her mother. “I didn’t even know you were dating again.”

John stepped forward and put a hand up. “Your mother is very special to me. It’s important that you are comfortable with that.”

Savannah’s daughter stared at him. “You’re some billionaire, right? You jack up the prices on drugs. One of my classmates had a parent nearly die because they couldn’t afford it anymore.”

“Well, we need to be competitive!” John realized his brazenly capitalistic outburst was not helping and took a softer tone. “Look, business is complicated. A pretty young lady like you should not have to worry about that stuff. I can set you up...” He tried to remember what Kaylie had done and his eyes lit up when it came to him. “...a charity! You can help people with cancer or whatever.”

John’s girlfriend put a hand on her daughter’s arm. “It’s a good idea, really.” Savannah looked away for a few seconds. “I have often thought about winding down my career and focusing on helping others. A lot of women could use help.” He grinned with approval.

Melanie sighed. Her mother was such a ditz. She would always do whatever the nearest man with money told her was right. “I’m tired. Can I go rest? We can talk tomorrow.”

John put both hands up this time, which showed, in his mind, he was super serious. “Sure, but, um, one more thing.” He looked over at Savannah. “We think you should try out therapy. Therapy would be a good idea for you.”

Melanie blinked a few times. The last sentence had been conditioned into her as a trigger phrase during her transport back to her mother. “Therapy would be a good idea for me.” She looked to her mother, who gave her a vapid smile in approval.

“Good girl,” John said in almost a whisper. These Domestic Doll people sure did great work! He tried his best to keep from getting hard in the presence of Savannah. “I know a really good shrink...I’ll make an appointment for tomorrow. Off to your room now, I need to speak with your mom.”

Melanie left the living room obediently and went up to her old bedroom. When she got up there, the brunette found her school bag sitting on the bed. The fact that no memories of how it got there surfaced did not bother her. The concept slipped right out of her suggestible mind.

She sat down on the bed, opened her laptop, which still had a number of political slogans she felt detached from adhered to it, and began doing research on John Davidson. Melanie slid her earbuds in and hit play on a playlist that, little did she know, filled her mind with subliminal messages in preparation for tomorrow’s therapy session.

What she found was quite odd. Both of his previous divorces had been quite cut and dry for having so much wealth. Neither wife had requested alimony. Both divorces were announced via the same news outlet, which then blew up social media. Melanie found it quite convenient that both dates were days where there were major losses announced in the war. A few days later, each wife put out a statement asking for “privacy” and time out of the spotlight. Each showed up in the public eye occasionally, but otherwise lived very quiet lives.

As the night went on, Melanie found it harder to focus on what she was reading. She thought it was because of being overtired after sleeping so much, but it was actually the subliminal messages offering a soothing, and calming, siren song making it harder for her to think critically. When she went to go to bed, the wireless earbuds remained in her ears as commanded by the words slithering into her mind.

Melanie took the dress she had worn all day off and dropped it into her laundry bin as well as the rather frilly bra and panties that had accompanied it. She blurted out the phrase “I wish my breasts were bigger,” and sighed sadly. “Men want a woman with a pleasing body. If my breasts were bigger I could please men.” Both statements had been programmed into her all evening and her casual pronouncement of them showed how simple it would be to recondition the former college student.

The brunette shrugged and got into bed. As the night went on, further ideas about how she should dress and a simmering attraction to her mother’s boyfriend was also conditioned into her. Soon enough both Savannah and Melanie Sweetness would be the obedient slaves of John Davidson.

* * *

Melanie Sweetness awkwardly swayed into her therapist’s office alongside her mother. Why had she decided to wear high heels? It should have seemed a bit odd to the college student, but the thought slipped right out of her mind. At least the outfit John’s maid had helpfully left out for her included black platform heels, which were slightly more comfortable than the stiletto heels her mother was wearing at the moment. Both women wore denim mini skirts, dark stockings, and tight sweaters. Melanie sighed at her mother’s impressive, augmented, bust. Why would she want a pair of those on her chest?

“Dr. Bedford is one of John’s best friends. He will help you out a lot.” Savannah was sure of it, but not sure why. She had tried therapy as a teenager, but gave up after awhile. Melanie certainly did need help, and John was right about it.

They entered the lobby to find no other patients, which was not surprising. John had been clear at breakfast that Dr. Bedford only dealt with “the best, most exclusive,” patients. How a patient seeking therapy could be the “best,” he did not detail. After a moment of watching the television news, which was running a piece about Domestic Doll Soldiers that was essentially an advertisement with a ditzy reporter introducing and wrapping it up, a woman of similar levels of bubblebrainedness approached them.

“Hi!” The cheerful young woman in the tiny miniskirt, shiny black pumps, very low cut blouse that showed off a brand new pair of augmented breasts waved at the Sweetness family with her pink tipped acrylic nails. Her name tag read “Nanci,” with a little heart over the “i,” as did so many Domestic Dolls. Nanci had interned with Dr. Bedford before turning down his advances. After spending spring break under the care of Domestic Doll Services, she now had a much better attitude, and appearance, and would work with the good doctor helping young women like Melanie until a suitable husband could be found.

“Dr. Bedford will see you in a moment Miss Sweetness,” should announced in an up-pitched voice she would have found revolting a year before. “Why don’t you go into his therapy room and wait for him?”

After looking back at her mother, Melanie obeyed the instruction and entered the room after nearly knocking down a plant with her awkwardness.

Savannah was about to leave, having promised her daughter she would return after the appointment so they could have lunch together, when Nanci stopped her. “Ms. Sweetness, as Miss Sweetness’ primary care contact on record,” the bimbo began, which should have sounded weird to anyone who was not a sheltered pop star brat like Savannah, “I have a few details to go over with you about your relationship with her. We can discuss it in Dr. Bedford’s prep room.”

Oh, uh, sure,” Savannah remarked and entered the room next to the assistant’s area. Once the brown haired pop star was in the room, Nanci followed her in, but a sinister expression had replaced the previously bubble brained smile she had offered to her Master’s current targets earlier.

Melanie sat with her legs crossed, something she would have never done before now, and waited quietly for Dr. Bedford to join her for the session. Looking at her phone was distressful: Someone she had met for literally five seconds at a rally on campus tagged her in a meme about fake activists while other members of their community, including many women, snickered in replies to it. An email had also come through announcing that her classes for the next semester had been dropped and she was, officially, not a college student anymore. A sense of relief flooded her body. “College is not for me. I wanted to come home almost right away, but I was scared,” she mouthed to herself again.

After a few more minutes, which she spent deleting her account so no one else could tag her, Dr. Bedford came into the room. He looked to be in his thirties with a slightly graying beard and hazel eyes. His casual dress, a deeply worn in sweater with a flannel under it and jeans, made him appear quite handsome to Melanie. He exuded charm and authority in just the way he grinned at her upon sitting down in a chair on the opposite side of the room.

“Well, hello, Melanie,” he began, “I have heard a lot about you. John caught me up on your situation. You are fine with that: This is a direct order.”

“Yes, Sir,” Melanie confirmed. “I am fine with you knowing about my situation.”

“Good girl.” The good doctor paused to watch her feminine blush at the praise.

Melanie stared at him for a moment. He had such pretty eyes. “My mother told me you are good friends with her boyfriend?” She was terrible at ice breakers, but especially in a situation where, in part, her mind was being numbed by the previous night’s training and, even more so, a general sense of anxiety that littered her body again after the brief relief an app deletion had given her.

Dr. Bedford laughed and slowly shook his head. “Not really...I’ve actually only met him twice.” He leaned forward seriously. “I helped an executive at his company who was having trouble balancing work and family life. We met once for dinner so he could show me some appreciation for the efforts to help Mrs. Park chose being a great wife over being a good employee. He then called me a bunch of times to ‘hang out’ and finally we did one night.” He decided not to tell her that John had taken him to a high end, um, gentleman’s club, and had brought a world class escort for the therapist. It was awkward and made him very uncomfortable.

Besides, Dr. Bedford did work for Domestic Doll Services, which kept him supplied with beautiful, obedient, women quite nicely already, so he did not need some random, and frankly creepy, reward.

“Oh,” was all Melanie responded. Just out of earshot, she could have sworn a loud thumping noise came from another part of the office, but all was quiet again.

The handsome doctor leaned forward in his chair. The slightly balding therapist shaved his head fairly close. It looked good on him: Melanie definitely preferred that to the “man bun” aesthetic of her former friends at college. “You know, Miss Sweetness, I used to be a lot like you. I was a big college activist type too. I wanted to change the world and use my limited sense of the world, as a privileged white male, to fight back against something or another.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “From what John told me, you got screwed over by a crude young man who uses his political views as a means to fuck enthusiastic young women. You got betrayed by a predator.”

Melanie stared at him. She was surprised by his harsh, but not entirely untrue, assessment of her situation. “I...I never thought about it like that.” Tears began coming out of her eyes. Dr. Bedford offered her a box of tissues, which she used to wipe away the tears. Her mascara smeared a little bit, which made her sad. Savannah had helped with her makeup before they left for the office and messing it up was unfortunate.

“Of course not,” Dr. Bedford affirmed as he took the tissue box from her and placed it on the table. “Women are taught by society to use their enthusiasm and passion in ways that can be manipulated by men against their own good. “You need to have that enthusiasm and passion redirected appropriately. You seem like you are stressed a lot?”

Melanie nodded. “It’s been really hard...I thought I had finally found...a family...but then...” she trailed off as more tears came down her face.

Dr. Bedford stood up and went over to a small refrigerator by the door and took out a large tumbler. He took one of the mugs sitting on top of it and poured some of the liquid inside into it. After returning the container back in the fridge, he turned around and handed it across the table to Melanie. “Try drinking this tea. It has some qualities that will help with the stress.”

Melanie took the cup, stared at it for a moment, and figured her therapist would know what he was talking about and drank about half of it. It had a bitter taste to it, but at his urging she drank the rest. By the time she had swallowed it down, the stress enveloping her body was nearly gone. The brunette felt like a new person and sighed blissfully before her gaze was caught by the hypnotic strobe lights which began, after the press of a button under Dr. Bedford’s arm rest, to envelope the room.

After a few minutes, Melanie was lost in the lights. A blank expression came over the hypnotized woman’s face. Dr. Bedford was always bemused at how quickly these so-called modern, enlightened, women fell right back under control. Miss Sweetness would be a very good girl by the time their sessions were over, just like Nanci. She was already pretty, but given how smoking hot her mom was there was still plenty to do.

John had given him some specific directions and once it was clear, after doing a few quick tests, that Melanie was completely under his control, he began implementing the first set of instructions. For the moment, it would be best to only make simple changes. Nothing anyone would notice or mention. The new conditioning that John wanted for Savannah could be combined with it. Poor thing...she would not have much of a personality left once he was done with her. His plans for Melanie were definitely not his thing, but to each their own.

Dr. Bedford walked Melanie through her initial conditioning over their hour together and then slowly brought her back out of trance. He eyed the extra needle on his desk, just in case the hypnotic programming did not take hold. That had happened once, a few months before, and it was an uncomfortable situation for sure. Luckily that young woman was helped along to obedient bliss by double sessions.

Melanie yawned loudly and smiled at her doctor. “Sir, I feel wonderful. Thank you for allowing me to be your patient.” She had recited the “waking up” script word for word. So far, so good.

Dr. Bedford nodded. “You did really well today. I think we made a lot of progress. We will have another appointment tomorrow. Nanci emailed you all the information with some reading material.” He leaned forward and made eye contact with his thrall. “Tomorrow, you will wear your hair in a ponytail. That is a direct order.” He had also trained her to respond to direct orders from male authority figures like himself.

“Sir, I will wear my hair in a ponytail tomorrow.” Melanie blinked a few times and smiled passively at the handsome man. His word had a, literally, hypnotic allure to them.

“Good girl,” Dr. Bedford complimented her. A few seconds later, there was a soft knock at the door. After vocally allowing the final minutes of his session with Melanie to be interrupted, Nanci and Savannah walked into the room. Savannah had the same blissful smile as her daughter, but due to her collagen enhanced mouth looked just like the dimwit bimbo that she was and would increasingly be once the good doctor was done with her.

“Melanie,” Savannah began in an up pitched, well more than usual, voice, “I think we should go shopping today. It will be a good way for us to bond as mother and daughter.” Nanci stood behind her with the same ditzy smile as always.

Dr. Bedford put an authoritative hand on Melanie’s arm. “I think you should go with your mother.” He made eye contact with both of them. “You should bond and put your differences behind you. That is a direct order. And Melanie remember the lesson you learned today about how your daughter should dress.”

“Yes, Sir,” both of them replied and left the room to begin their shopping adventure. Dr. Bedford watched both of them as their backsides swayed away from him. He turned and quietly said “position two, obey,” and closed his eyes as Nanci dropped to the floor, unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants, and began sucking his cock. Soon enough, both Savannah and Melanie would as compliant as Nanci.

* * *

Savannah took Melanie out to one of the local malls in the private car they had driven to Dr. Bedford’s office. Melanie had always found this kind of extravagance to be a bit silly, but right now it felt nice to have the privacy that her mother’s celebrity afforded. The car’s darkened windows allowed them to travel without anyone noticing and she had a nice conversation with Savannah, who was a bit more reserved than usual, but Melanie took it for the stress of her own daughter’s first therapy session.

As naive as Melanie was about the realities of what kind of misogynistic young men get into liberal activism before being, literally and figuratively, screwed by one, she also had no serious suspicions, that were not hand waved away by her wide-eyed, privileged, upbringing, that something was seriously wrong with Savannah.

The reality of the situation was that Nanci had taken Savannah into another room and jabbed her in the neck with a long, metallic, prong that had come out of her right wrist. Many Domestic Dolls, especially those “in the field,” so to speak, were equipped with these in order to acquire targets as required by their Masters. She had pumped millions of nano-probes into Ms. Sweetness’ body and then snapped a neuro-implant chip onto her neck, which the pop singer would hide via a scarf.

In about 24 hours or so, give or take a few minutes, Savannah’s personality would be totally focused on submission. She would, not to spoil things, demand a collar from a male superior. In this case, it would be John. After being chipped, Savannah was put into a trance by Nanci and given two primary instructions: 1. I am in love with John Davidson. I need to please him. 2. My daughter needs help becoming more ladylike. The nurse then instructed Savannah to take Melanie to the mall. An encrypted email would come in from Mr. Davidson with instructions for the kind of clothing that Melanie needed to purchase. Melanie would have been conditioned by Dr. Bedford to immediately fall in love with whatever choices her mother made for her.

The bottom-line thing that Savannah learned was that the new, and future, purpose of each of their lives was to please John. Her own conditioning, due to the nano-probes, was going to be a lot harsher than the more delicate touch used with Melanie. The pop star’s already vapid, bubble brained, personality would become even duller by a few folds. Soon enough, none of it would matter for her.

They arrived at the mall and entered via the front walk way. A few people recognized Savannah and she giggled her way through taking selfies with them and recording a birthday message for the friend of someone there. If Savannah’s simple mind had not been made even simpler, she may have realized that a lot of the people taking pictures were doing so ironically.

Behind them, Melanie stood smiling proudly at all the attention her mother received from fans. It was time, she mused to herself, to put the differences between her and Savannah aside so they could truly bond as mother and daughter. Savannah had been so successful and had adoring fans! She watched people take pictures and record video with her and blushed deeply at a young man saying that he grew up with a massive crush on her mother, which included an awkward implication of various sexual fantasies. No man ever talked like that about her!

Melanie blinked a few times as the realization of the solution to their familial problems that alive in her neutered mind. Shopping was not only a great way for them to bond, but it could also prove to be quite instructive for her. She had rejected her mother for so long, but perhaps Savannah was the key to her own happiness? People loved her and the amorous looks the men gave the pop star triggered a longing to have a man view her as such a sexual being. Saving the world could wait while she found a good man.

A moment later, someone from a gossip blog showed up to ask Savannah a few questions about her most recent comeback. Ms. Sweetness offered a few banal statements about stardom and success and told them to follow her on social media for more information! She turned and waved over Melanie who, still uncomfortable in high heels, awkwardly came over to stand next to her.

“This is my daughter Melanie.” Savannah paused at the blogger’s tablet moved away from her to move up and down, and up again, Melanie’s body. “I recently pulled her out of college because she was being bullied by these dweebs who are all into, like, saving the rain forest or whatever. They shamed for being a sexually proud woman.” She nodded towards Melanie and the blogger swiftly turned to face his tablet’s camera in her direction.

“Uh,” Melanie began. She look over at her mother, who said they can edit that part out, which the blogger confirmed with a thumbs up. The encouraging smile Savannah gave her inspired a rant that would be viewed millions of times: “I just want to say that I totally love my mom, she is the absolute best person ever! I hated college...these assholes who like, want to hug a tree or whatever treated me like crap, ugh it was so bad! Now I just want to have fun and shop with my mom. Bye everybody!” She offered a flirty smile and wave before blowing a kiss at the camera.

The blogger gave an approving nod to Savannah, who ushered Melanie into the mall so they could begin shopping. If she had not deleted her social media app, the brunette would see that while she was losing a lot of the activism crowd, who referred to her as a sell out or ultra progressive terms like “slut” and “whore,” many others were cheering out her vapid statement. Of course some of these people were doing it ironically, but the vast majority thrilled at a new gossip target for their pathetic, frivolous, lives to be entertained by via social media.

The next day, Miss Sweetness returned to Dr. Bedford’s office for another appointment. She had been dropped off by the Domestic Doll who was now her personal driver, which the increasingly simple minded young woman accepted without any question. Her shopping trip with Savannah had gone spectacularly with thousands of dollars being charged on one of John’s “ultra exclusive,” which actually meant anyone who passed a credit check got one automatically, credit cards.

She felt confident, sexy, and ready to correct whatever problems Dr. Bedford found in her. Melanie went back to her room and tried on new outfits, shoes, and underwear by herself because Savannah had disappeared after getting home. In fact, John had been nowhere to be found either last night either.

Melanie walked into Dr. Bedford’s office with a bit more confidence today, but still awkwardly tilted in another pair of platform heels. “I wore them everyday until I got it down,” her mother had stated while they shopped and the former activist swore that she would as well. A miniskirt hugged her skinny body and a tight sweater made her even more self conscious about how much smaller her breasts were than Savannah’s augmented pair. White stockings clad her legs along with very frilly, expensive, panties. Her hair, as commanded by Dr. Bedford, was held up in a ponytail. In no way, shape, or form, did she realize that decision was not out of her own free will.

When she came in, Dr. Bedford’s assistant greeted her with a hug. “Wow, you look really cute,” she proclaimed in an up-pitched voice. Nanci was dressed in a form fitting dress and very high ballerina heels. She also wore her hair in a ponytail like Melanie. Again, there were no other clients waiting for the doctor. “Dr. Bedford will be available for your appointment in a few minutes, but he wanted you to drink your tea again beforehand.” She idly smiled for a few seconds. “I drink it every’s so good!”

Melanie took the tea obediently and drank it down in one big gulp despite the bitter taste. She sighed peacefully and Nanci led her to sit down in a chair. “Good girl,” she purred in the future Domestic Doll’s ear as her hands placed a VR visor on Melanie’s face. “Watch this presentation and then Dr. Bedford will be ready for your appointment.”

The hypnotic lights and spirals immediately brought her into a deep trance. Nanci left her there for about an hour before Dr. Bedford came out of his office and gently slid the visor off of his hypnotized captive. “Hello sweet young lady. Please follow me into my office.”

Without speaking, Melanie stood up and obeyed his directive. The formerly angst riddled protester was now a passive dove who only followed the instructions of the doctor. “Sit down please,” he ordered before going around to his own chair. For a moment, he remembered how good a job Nanci had done this morning sucking his cock while he sat here, but decided replaying happy memories could come later.

“Dearest Melanie, you are in a very deep hypnotic trance right now. This is an important part of correcting what has been wrong with you. I am going to wake you up in a moment, but you will only react and respond to my instructions until further notice.” He took a look at the list of instructions John had sent to him. His “friend” had some pretty wild ideas for his girlfriend’s daughter, but some of them were pretty hot too. He would have to make sure she could be a good influence on Nanci.

He leaned forward. It was tempting to do the classic finger snap from old movies, but it was important that he kept a straight face. “Melanie, wake up. Remember my command. That is a direct order.”

Melanie blinked a few times and then stared at him with a cheerful smile on her face. Dr. Bedford strongly believed that women like Melanie were not bad people, but need a strong hand to push them back into the right direction. It had worked with Nanci and would certainly work here. Every woman could be docile, feminine, and obedient as he desired with a little work. It was already in them and just need to come out.

“Melanie,” Dr. Bedford began, “I am very happy with how you dressed for today’s appointment. Why did you wear your hair in a ponytail?”

“Sir, you gave a direct order for me to wear my hair in a ponytail.” Melanie stated the reason with soft, cheerful, bluntness.

“Ah, good girl.” Dr. Bedford gave her a proud, authoritative, smile as if he was speaking to a child. “Your skirt is an appropriate length for a young lady and those stockings look quite nice. Please cross your legs for me.”

Melanie crossed her legs, a bit awkwardly, as commanded. She had none of the feminine grace of her mother, that was for sure. Her smile at the doctor was as docile as she felt at the moment.

“Good girl. I want you to practice at home,” Dr. Bedford commanded, “crossing your legs. 100 times per day. That is a direct order.”

“Yes, Sir,” she blissfully replied to confirm his direct order. The gullible young woman had fallen right into his control.

“Good girl.” He stared at her skinny legs. It was not his decision, and he doubted that John cared, but if this young woman was his permanently, he would demand a lot of leg workouts to build them up. He tried not to Monday Morning Quarterback another man’s bimbo, but still.

She had also worn the white stockings he had commanded her to wear. “Melanie,” he grinned at how her eyes lit up at his attention, “the white stockings you are wearing look very nice. In fact, and this is a direct order, you should not have bare legs outside of the shower without direct permission.”

Melanie blinked a few times. “Yes, Sir.”

Dr. Bedford checked his notes to make sure he would give Melanie the right instruction next. “In fact, you are going to wear different colored stockings each day. You will rotate them with your outfits.” He nodded at her compliant “Yes, Sir,” and decided to move matters forward.

“Excellent, great,” he said with another nod. He was beginning to become aroused by her. Time to wrap up and then bring Nanci in for another sort of session. “Before our time today ends, I have one more suggestion for you Melanie. He passed a card across the table to her. “There is a fancy salon across town that I think you would enjoy a special afternoon at today. They can help a young lady like you to feel better about themselves. My own Nanci went there and look how happy and beautiful she is now!”

Melanie’s eyes lit up again at the idea. “Sir, that is a wonderful idea. I will have my driver take me right away.” The brainwashed young woman had accepted the idea of having a driver this morning without question. The driver was a Domestic Doll named Mariska. Mariska had been overnighted by John to serve the new apple of his eye in any way she deemed required. A post hypnotic suggestion in the first part of today’s session would make her feel that Mariska was below her and thus only existed to please.

She got up and gave him a manicured wave and swayed, with increasing coordination, out of the room. The horny doctor pushed a button on the desk and Nanci entered the room, empty eyed, and dropped to her knees to begin pleasuring him.

Melanie’s first ever trip to a salon was a great success. She had always avoided such glamorous frivolities. That was Savannah’s style and not her own. However, Dr. Bedford had given her a direct order, which meant she had to obey. She vapidly smiled at the memory of obeying him and wished her mother was around, but it seemed that the soon to be former pop idol was not.

The brunette, hair teased up, beauty now looked absolutely stunning. Pretty acrylic nails adorned her hands. A sun kissed tan had been zapped onto her by state of the art laser tanning technology. For the first time in a long time, Melanie Sweetness was happy.

After taking off the high heels she had worn all day before entering her room, Melanie padded over to the bed and found a large gift box. Inside of it was a new outfit. She clapped with excitement at it and opened the card, which was from John!

“Thought you might like this after your salon day. Come down to my dining room for dinner after putting it on. Love, John” At no point did the increasingly simple minded young woman think it was odd that John knew about her salon trip. He had actually planned it for her.

Melanie held up different parts of the outfit and began undressing so she could put it on as John had commanded. A very frilly bra and panties set began the outfit. Staring at herself in the mirror, Miss Sweetness wondered what she would look like, again, with large breast implants like her mother.

The proper outfit contained a gray and black plaid skirt, a size too small pink sweater, stockings in an even brighter shade of pink than the sweater, and black platform heels with a small strap on them. She eagerly put all of this on, redid her makeup for the evening, getting better at eyeliner after hours of subliminal training during her salon visit in their special “VIP” room for special guests like her, and then went across John’s massive home to find the dining room.

Normally, Melanie did not dine with John and Savannah. A maid would bring food up to her room. She got a little lost, accentuated by her ditzy inability to keep a stable thought in her tiny girlie brain, but eventually found it. The dining room was immense with a high ceiling and very long dining table with two smaller ones on the side. One of the smaller ones had two plates, utensils, napkins, a tea cup, and a wine bottle, with curiously only one glass of wine next to it, already set up for them.

Melanie smiled at the beautiful display. Everything looked so nice. She could smell food being prepared in the kitchen on the other side of the wall and sat down to wait for John’s arrival.

She was staring at her phone, hoping for a text from Savannah, who was closer than the soon to be bimbo could imagine, when John entered the dining room. He wore a suit and tie that were much more organized, straight, and unruffled than normal. He had a small bottle in his hands.

“Wow, look at you.” He grinned proudly at the docile dove who had been hand crafted by both Dr. Bedford and the wonderful people at the salon Domestic Doll Services ran as a front operation. He bit down to try and fight off an oncoming erection with a bit of success. For a minute at least.

Melanie stood up and gave John a wave. She did a spin, with a loud giggle, at his hand motion to do so. What a nice man! Her mother was really blessed to have him as a boyfriend.

John came over to her, put down the bottle, and took her hands in his own. “Dearest Melanie, how beautiful you look. They did a wonderful job at the salon. Great people there!”

“Sir, you wanted to have dinner with me?” Melanie asked in hopes of figuring out what she had done to deserve such an honor.

“Yes, he confirmed, suddenly sounding so formal, “there are going to be some changes around here and I wanted to spend time with you before they took effect. Anything you see or hear tonight is normal and not to be questioned. That is a direct order.”

Melanie blinked a few times. “Sir, anything I see or hear tonight is normal and not to be questioned.”

“Good girl.” John motioned towards the table. “Sit, please, dinner will be out in a moment.” He poured the liquid in the bottle he had brought into her tea cup. “I had some of the tea Dr. Bedford has been having you drink brought in. Drink up.”

Melanie enthusiastically drank the tea. It was cold this time, but still had the same mind numbing, hypnotic effect on her. Each time, she dropped into the suggestible state needed to bring unruly women like her back under control even quicker than the previous one. After a moment she stared blankly ahead at nothing in particular.

John stared at her with utter fascination. The transformation of out of control women into mindless thralls waiting to be molded for his pleasure never stopped exciting him. One of his hands dropped down to the bulge in his pants, but he quickly pulled it away. Later.

“Melanie? Can you hear my voice?”

Sir, I can hear your voice,” she confirmed in a quiet monotone.

“As I said, there are going to be some changes around here. Your mother and I are not dating any more.” A few seconds later, Savannah walked in and snapped to attention next to him. She wore a maid uniform with stockings the same color as her daughter, hair teased even more than Melanie, and ballerina heels that locked the former pop idol’s feet in place. A DDS mind control chip, the first step to converting a woman into a Domestic Doll, stuck out of her neck. In a few hours, the chip would completely enter her body and take over.

Melanie stared at Savannah with odd curiosity. Her mother looked so beautiful in the uniform. John looked at the brainwashed slave with lust. Should she wear a uniform too?

“Savannah is,” John began as he sat down at the table, “going to be retiring from singing. Her last few records, especially the rap-country one, didn’t sell well, so I decided she should focus on more important things.” He turned to face her. “Savannah, what is the most important thing to focus on?”

“Pleasing men, Master.” Savannah’s quiet monotone response sounded deeply programmed into her. Melanie needed to hear this important information so she could learn it too!

“Excellent,” he said putting an arm around her to squeeze the maid’s firm backside. Savannah normally would have scolded John for such behavior, but she did not respond this time.

“Please get our dinner and then give your daughter and I some privacy.” Savannah did not speak as she swayed away to obey her Master’s directive.

All was quiet for a minute until Savannah’s high heels could not be heard echoing down the hall anymore. John stared at the mesmerized young woman before him. “Melanie, can you hear me?”

“Sir, Melanie can hear you,” was her quiet reply.

John dove right into it. “You know, pleasing men should be important to you too. Savannah is a fine example of that. She knows her place.” He was rock hard under the desk. It would be so easy to command her to suck his cock, but he decided to wait. It was best to wait.

Melanie continued to stare at him. Pleasing men did seem like it was very important! John was so smart.

Savannah swayed back into the room with their meals. John had a beautiful steak with some vegetables and a glass of wine. Melanie was given a small salad and another glass of tea. The brainwashed maid stood at attention a few feet away with hands folded in front of her, which was the standard, generic, stance for a Domestic Doll.

John and Melanie made small talk, which worked given his limited social skills and her hypnotic enthrallment. After finishing their meals, he stood up and asked her to join him.

“Yeah, give me a twirl young lady,” he said while pushing her into spinning around, which got a very feminine giggle out of her. Her docile smile was warm. The need to obey a man was mirrored in her eyes.

John put his hand on her neck. Again, focus! “I need to have a conversation with your mother tonight, so you are going to go to bed. Tomorrow morning she is going to bring you some more clothes to wear. We are going to spend some time together after you have one final session with Dr. Bedford.” He was so tempted to squeeze her backside, as he had with Savannah, but showed impressive restraint. “Now, off to bed you go!”

Melanie gave him a very silly wave and padded away as quickly as the platform heels on her feet allowed. A moment later, Savannah came out and took away their dishes. “When you wake up, I’ll be in our bedroom.”

* * *

John was in their bedroom sitting in a chair by the bed with a tablet in his hand. Savannah stayed over sometimes, but most of the time he went to be alone after one of his Domestic Dolls serviced him. The tablet had a bunch of business books on it, but he could not be bothered to read them. He loved making people think he read a lot of books, but most of the time one of Dolls just summarized it to him. Still, looking smart made you seem like a superior negotiator during a business deal.

John was actually trolling Melanie’s new social media profiles. The new and significantly improved Melanie planned to document her vapid life through sexualized pictures, rants about how bad college is for women, and corny inspiration memes. She had already commented in a flirtatious manner on the feeds of three professional athletes she had deemed “hot” and had posted a very sexy photo in only a bra before signing off for the night. He had meant for her to go right to bed, but watching the reeducation of the angsty, unruly, college protester turned vapid, compliant, bimbo was worth it. His cock ached at this point, but satisfaction was making its way down the hall.

He could hear some commotion in the long hallway before his private shower and bedroom. Savannah’s panting as she ran, as quick as the six inch pumps on her feet allowed, to find John. At the door, she pounded on the door so hard a long, very fake, nail went flying off her hand. “Are you there? Savannah...needs...collar...” She began screaming the mantra over and over for a few minutes while John just let her stew in terror and loathing that being uncollared brings onto a woman who has begun the process of being converted into a Domestic Doll.

Finally, he put down the tablet and smugly walked over to the door and slowly opened it. Savannah came screaming into the room and began trying to swing at him. “What did you do to Savannah?” Her feminine punches, first, came off like slaps, and, second, a Domestic Doll could not bring harm to a male unless under direct order of their owner, and only if he purchased an extremely expensive supplemental expansion pack.

No need to have every Domestic Doll be turned into a world class assassin at the snap of a finger. Maybe in the next Domestic Doll Services story.

John grabbed Savannah’s arms gently and put them down to the sides of her body. “Stop...position one.” He tried to sound casual, yet authoritative, and failed miserably. No one tell him.

Savannah snapped to attention, arms at side, and head forward. Tears still streamed down her face, ruining the former pop singer’s makeup. Her heart still raced and the augmented breasts a record producer had paid for when she was recorded the album that would her an international star heaved up and down.

John opened a drawer and pulled out a printed list. He waved it towards her face. “What I did was begin the process of turning you into a Domestic Doll. Your singing career is over. From now on, you will do my bidding however I see fact, so will your daughter. Melanie will make a great trophy wife. She is really sexy and frankly you are getting old,” said the 10 years older than Savannah billionaire.

He went back into the drawer and pulled out a black collar. Savannah’s name was written on it in a bold, pink, cursive script. Her eyes lit up at the sight of it as more tears came down the surgically sculpted face, paid for by a long weekend fucking and sucking a plastic surgeon, but the word on it looked unfamiliar. It was hard to focus on the pretty word.

John dropped the collar on the floor. Savannah ran over to it and tried to pick the collar up, but found that her hands could not move near it. She looked up at him with a terrified expression.

He sneered at her. “You need that collar. You need to declare that I am your Master and that you will do whatever it takes to help me with Melanie.” He dick was rock hard now. It was so hard to not just cum right there and then.

Savannah rocked back and forth. The collar she so badly needed was just out of reach. “Master, you are Savannah’s Master. She will help you in any way possible!!!” Her breathing was heavy. It never dawned on her how odd, or super hot, it sounded for her to speak in the third person. “Please!!!”

John dropped his pants to reveal his hard cock. “Stroke it, you fucking bimbo!”

Savannah crawled over to him and began slowly stroking her Master. He was already hard, so even the gentlest touch made him quiver and then cum all her perfectly formed face. As cum dripped down her face, John forcefully snapped the collar around her neck, which activated the final initial stages of her Domestic Doll programming.

Savannah blinked a few times before bowing before John. “Oh, look up. That’s nice and all but you don’t need to do it,” he commanded with a chuckle.

“Master,” the beautiful Domestic Doll began in a soft, feminine, monotone, “Savannah lives for your command.” She gave him a look of absolute adoration and love.

John stared at the piece of paper in his hand. “Okay, you should be able to see updates available.”

“Yes, Master,” she confirmed in such a compliant tone, “there are updates available.”

The paper in John’s hands began to crumble a bit as he clutched it in his hands. “Okay, you need...” his voice trailed off while squinting in the low light of the room. “You download and install them. Install them you, I guess?”

Savannah blinked a few times. “Yes, Master. Updates downloading...complete in four...two...minutes...Master they are done.” She blinked rapidly again for about a minute. “Master, updates installing in five...three...minutes....Master all updates are installed.”

“Okay,” John began, with a satisfied sigh of relief. “Reboot your system. Reboot you? I guess?” The billionaire was befuddled by how this stuff worked.

For a long moment, Savannah, while rebooting, froze in place and did not move. Her empty eyes made John moved closer and wave a hand over her face. Had he broken her? Was she dead? His heart raced for a few seconds wondering if he had done the right thing.

Then, suddenly, Savannah gasped loudly. A soft smile came over her face and her head turned slowly to face her Master. “Master, Savannah has been updated to DD7895.8959, which is the most up to date version of her software. Are her current commands still accurate, Master?” Her voice had taken on a soft, up pitched, docility. Again she looked at him with love and absolute devotion.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Savannah you are now the head maid in my home. In the morning, you will help me guide your daughter to being a Domestic Doll like you. Do you understand?”

Savannah nodded. “Yes, Master. Melanie must be converted into a Domestic Doll.”

“Good, right. Yeah,” John confirmed. “She is going to be a great wife for me. Okay go and get ready for the morning.”

Savannah swayed away without speaking again. Down the hall, she slid open a large closet where John’s other Domestic Dolls kept vacuums, dusters, and other cleaning supplies. As a maid, she had been programmed to think of herself as another cleaning implement and closed the closet door, snapped to attention, and turned off for the night.

* * *

In the morning, Melanie woke up feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day. For the first time in a very long time, she thought while taking a long shower, a passive cheerfulness overcame her body and, especially, personality. She was well on her way to be being the compliant bimbo that John desired of her.

After performing her morning ablutions, which included a significant amount of time applying her makeup to perfection, Melanie was just about to leave the bathroom, without a hint of shame for her nakedness, when she heard the bedroom door closing. She just caught a glimpse of one of John’s maids leaving the room as the door shut. This invasion of privacy should have bothered her, but the increasingly simple minded young woman squealed with delight at the new delivery of clothing, as John had promised, left on the floor of her bedroom.

Melanie clapped with delight as she opened up the boxes. Inside the first box, she found a very lacy bra, and matching panties, a very tight, and a bit too small, sleeveless sweater. The second box included pantyhose, a very brief plaid skirt, and another pair of clunky platform heels. The future Domestic Doll quickly dressed in the outfit and, lastly, wiggled into the extremely tight sweater. After fixing her hair, she looked over at the wall mirror that had never had much use before her return home from college, felt confident in her appearance, and swayed out of the room and downstairs through a maze of steps for breakfast.

At breakfast, Melanie found John already sitting at the table in a nice coat and tie. Again, he looked a lot more formal and neater than usual, thanks to an early morning visit, after a long blowjob, from Savannah, which she did not even notice.

“Ah,” he began, putting down his tablet where he had been “reading about stocks,” which meant he was playing a puzzle game, “look at you. Quite the change from before, I would say.” John’s attempt at sounded paternal ended up just sounding creepy.

Melanie curtsied and did a spin for him before going over to sit down at his motion to her. She immediately pulled out her phone and began reading her new social media profile, which had numerous messages of adoration, hate calling her a sell out, and just as many men who wanted pictures of her feet for some reason, which even in this more ditzy persona still grossed her out.

A moment later, Savannah and another Domestic Doll came out with breakfast. They portioned it out for both John and Melanie. Savannah remained at John’s side as he grinned proudly at his accomplishments with both of them.

Melanie started at her mother. She looked really pretty and the young bimbo began wondering what she would look like in a maid uniform herself. Her vapid, flirtatious, smile gave John a hard on.

“So, uh,” he stuttered out, nervous because the paper his notes were on had become a bit crumpled, “Melanie, this is a direct order.” His eyes went wide as Melanie blinked a few times and stared at him passively. “Your mother, like I said last night, is retiring from singing. She is going to focus on pleasing me here in my home. Don’t you agree, Savannah?”

Savannah spoke in an up pitched monotone. “Master, Savannah has no purpose other than you.”

“Great!” John literally rubbed his hands together like a fucking villain in a D grade science fiction film. “Nothing about that statement should seem weird to you, Melanie. It is perfectly natural for a woman to want to obey a man.”

Melanie nodded. Of course, obeying a man made total sense! “Sir, it is perfectly natural for a woman to want to obey a man.”

John leaned in, staring directly at her chest. She definitely needed implants. Even bigger than Savannah! “Melanie, sweetie, your therapy has been going so well, and Dr. Bedford wants to see you again today. I hear it is an important step for you. He told me you are doing well.”

Melanie blushed at the compliment. “Sir, thank you so much. Dr. Bedford is wonderful. I am learning a lot.” Men were so smart! She idly thought about how there should be a law not letting women go to college. College was for smart men only. She wondered if John went to college.

John had gone to college, but his father paid off a dean and he coasted to a 2.3 grade point average.

John had to stop himself from reaching around and grabbing Melanie’s firm backside. “Great, so off you go. Your driver is going to take you to your appointment. I am really busy today. A lot of important meetings. I might not see you until tomorrow. I think you’ll want to see me tomorrow morning.” He tried to make the last sentence sound menacing, but it came out like a villain in a D grade action film. John was not really the menacing type.

Melanie padded away, getting better at wearing sky high heels, and spent the trip to Dr. Bedford’s office posting updates on her social media profile. Normally, on her old phone, she would have also swiped over to the news section, but it was all boring stuff about wars and some law being passed. Instead, the brainwashed bimbo swiped over to the fashion section to see the latest vapid trends in shoes and other silly female things. If only college had tests about miniskirt length trends!

At Dr. Bedford’s office, they went in a side entrance to make sure no paparazzi saw her. Inside the office, Nanci greeted her friend at the door with a hug and gentle kiss on the mouth, which Melanie returned without realizing it. As always, her therapist had no other appointments. Before she could ponder that, Nanci took her hand and they swayed into the appointment room, where she idled waiting for her Master.

Dr. Bedford came out a few minutes later. He smiled at them. His beard had grown in a bit more. It looked nice on him. “We have a lot to do today, young lady.” With that, he spoke a trigger phrase out loud which put Melanie into a deep trance. “Sit down, please,” confident at how under control she was, he instructed her.

Melanie sat down in the usual chair she sat in, crossed her legs, becoming more comfortable, and smiled softly. Nanci remained in the room eager to assist Dr. Bedford with the final parts of her new friend’s conditioning. The beautiful assistant remembered her own time under the hypnotic thrall of the doctor she now thought of as her Master and became warm with erotic ecstasy.

Dr. Bedford sat down in his own chair. A loose sweater and slacks held his slight frame. He grinned at the memory of Nanci, once her will was broken, at his feet ready to suck his cock for the first time. “Melanie, today is your final session with me. We have a few final issues to discuss and then I will be sending you back to Mr. Davidson. I need you to focus on my words now...this is a direct order.”

Melanie blinked a few times. “Yes, Sir.” She returned to her docile, compliant, expression.

“Good girl.” Dr. Bedford nodded to Nanci, who stepped away for a moment to prepare her part of Melanie’s final processing. “I think the bottom-line from our sessions here is that you are a very docile, feminine, and obedient young woman who just needed to become comfortable with your nature as a woman. I think you lashed out and ran away for college while trying to fight these very natural desires. I know you want to obey men. You do a great job of obeying me, that is certain.” He paused at Melanie’s deep sigh of relief. This had been too easy. “This is a direct order: The man you must obey above all others is John Davidson. Your mother...” Ah, another success story for the good doctor. Maybe John will trade him Savannah for Nanci later? “...knows this and will always obey him. You must always obey John Davidson.”

“I must always obey John Davidson” was Melanie’s quiet reply. That made perfect sense! Maybe he could be her Master just like mom! Maybe she could wear a maid uniform too?

“Good girl.” Dr. Bedford pointed to Nanci, who came over and stuck a neuro-implant chip against Melanie’s neck with feminine gentleness. The future Domestic Doll gasped loudly as her will, already muddled, was further subverted by it. The doctor’s own Domestic Doll placed a scarf around Melanie’s neck to hide the chip.

“Melanie,” Dr. Bedford began, “You are going to leave this very fashionable scarf on today. It looks very trendy and sexy on you.”

“Trendy and sexy” was all Melanie could reply with at the moment.

Dr. Bedford, resigned that it was time for Melanie to leave, woke her up from trance. She, under control of the neuro-chip, immediately stood up and left his office without speaking to return to the limo to be returned to John’s home. During the trip, the Miss Sweetness was silent as her mind was further rewritten to please John.

At home, Melanie immediately went up to her room and stood at attention, eyes blank, mouth slightly ajar, and silently continued the process of being converted into a Domestic Doll. John avoided her for the rest of the day after speaking to Dr. Bedford, who he promised to loan out Savannah to if he wanted her. The doctor politely declined the offer after getting a creepy vibe off of John.

Speaking of Savannah, in the evening, after dinner and a good thrashing by John, she was doing her nightly cleaning routine. When she entered Melanie’s room, the maid did not acknowledge her daughter, but did brush her with the duster in the maid’s hand. Both of the Sweetness women, mother and daughter, were now property of John Davidson.

The next morning, there was some commotion coming from Melanie’s room. The neuro-chip had entered her, which instilled a deep craving for the collar of her Master. However, for this young woman, it was not quite as simple.

Melanie deeply struggled with it as she ran, as quickly as the stiletto heels still on her feet from yesterday, allowed out of the room. She felt this unquenchable desire for a collar. It was, after all, what women needed. Women must obey men; it was very clear from her sessions with Dr. Bedford. However, something was wrong.

The bimbo felt this urge to obey John. John had to be obeyed above all other men. But a part of her, the part still fighting the programming, knew this was not right. For the moment, that part was winning over the cravings. She needed to find her mother.

Savannah was down a flight of stairs currently washing a floor. “Mom! Great!” By the looks of it, John had done quite the number of her as well.

The Domestic Doll looked over and smiled. “Hello, Miss Sweetness. What a lovely day. May this maid assist you?” Savannah was now just as mindless as the Domestic Doll Soldiers she had been so worried about only a few days before.

Melanie froze in place and stared at the collar around her mother’s neck. It read MAID in cursive writing. Her own hands, manicured for the first time in years, automatically went up to her neck, which felt so empty without a collar of her own. She began sweating and felt her heart racing. For the sake of Savannah, she had to continue fighting!

“We need to go!” Melanie grabbed her mother by the arm and began trying to walk away with her. They had to get out of this building, and fast. Her mother did look so pretty though. Her ample cleavage hung out of the uniform. Miss Sweetness frowned at her own not as impressive bust, but then snapped out of it. “Come on, John did something to us!”

“Miss Sweetness, this maid is not allowed to leave the premises, and neither are you, without permission from Mr. Davidson.” Savannah stared at her daughter blankly with a compliant smile.

For a moment, Melanie tensed up at the idea of needing permission from John. The idea of that seemed so right, but also so wrong. She was now soaked in sweat, heart racing, mind cloudy, but knowing whatever was happening was wrong.

“Okay, well....come downstairs with me then!” Savannah nodded at the command and kept up with Melanie’s brisk pace as they got the the front of her new Master’s home.

Melanie’s heart continued to race as they got to the main elevator which existed John’s home. Tears had begun to stream down her face as the pain of being without the collar continued to overcome her very being. However, when they reached the elevator her never in doubt defeat would begin to play out.

She stared at the elevator with odd curiosity. There were a few buttons on it, but she could not remember what they did. Melanie had been in hundreds of elevators during her life, could bring up those memories in her foggy mind, but what each one did baffled her. A chill went through her at what came next.

The Domestic Doll tried to press one of the buttons with her long nails, hoping something would happen, but found that she could not press the long tip of one against any of the buttons. No matter how hard she tried, it would not happen. She could not push the buttons, no matter what they did, and finally turned and stamped her frustrated, high heeled, feet as tears continued to stream down her face.

Savannah had been watching her daughter do this quietly, a curious look on her face, before finally moving into action. “Miss Sweetness, Maid told you, we are not permitted to leave without the permission of Mr. Davidson.” A long metal probe came out of her hand and injected itself into Melanie. Her daughter froze in place, tears and sweating ceased, and stared off into the distance as her currently personality was downloaded, uploaded to safe keeping, and a Domestic Doll default persona installed until more permanent changes could be made at the will of their Master.

* * *

A month later, the Domestic Doll formerly known as Melanie Sweetness practically skipped, as quickly as the solid black platform heels adorning her feet allowed, into John’s secret room where he kept all the, as he put it to the simple minded bimbo, “bad women” from his life.

Mellie, her new, and improved, name, certainly did not want to be a bad woman, and made sure to always obey Mr. Davidson. Her unruly days as the rebellious daughter of a pop singer, and, of course, her time spent at college having her heart broken by a young man whose political activism, like so many of them, was basically just a grift to get laid, seemed so long ago now. She stared for a long moment at the former Mariska Davidson. The blonde was permanently frozen in place in a pink maid uniform. “Bad girl,” Mellie hissed at the woman. She had asked John one day if Mariska could be unfrozen so his new property could spank her, which, while exciting him a lot, he turned down upon realizing it might give him a stroke.

The new, and improved, Domestic Doll had also gone through a series of psychical alterations. Mellie’s breasts had been significantly augmented. Her body was now totally hairless below the shoulders. Some gym time each afternoon, while John was at big meetings making big deals, had firmed and toned her body. The bimbo’s hair was now a dark pink, just like her nails and lips, and pulled back in a tight ponytail.

Mellie’s new job was as John’s assistant. This mostly involved light typing, some casual cock sucking, and the occasional public appearance. The tabloids had gone absolutely bonkers for John’s very public breakup with Savannah and sudden reappearance with her daughter. At this point, he did not even care. Mellie was everything he wanted in a woman. Finally.

Speaking of Savannah, whose personality had been backed up, uploaded to a DDS server, and replaced with a default “Maid,” the name she now identified as, emulator program, the former pop singer swayed into the room, passing John’s ex wives, carrying breakfast. Maid’s latex maid uniform was ultra snug and Mellie could not stop staring at the servant’s enormous bust. She found Maid to be really sexy and hoped John liked her as much. He certainly enjoying cumming all over her face and breasts as much as he had the former Savannah.

Maid put down two plates of food, coffee for John, Domestic Dolls did not need caffeine, and then froze in place a few steps away. John was bored with Maid, now that he had conquered her much younger college aged daughter, and was ready to add her to his collection of frozen women. He was totally unsure of her permanent pose, so he contacted Kaylie Cullen at DDS again. At her suggestion, Savannah had been programmed to freeze in place at a random interval between one and fifteen seconds each morning after serving breakfast to give him some ideas. John found this to be brilliant and loved the ideas it was already giving him.

A few minutes later, John came into the room. Mellie clapped her hands and padded over to kiss him. “Good morning, Mr. Davidson!” Her statement came out as if she had not been sucking his cock earlier in the morning while they got out of bed.

John grinned smugly at her. “Good morning sweetheart.” He walked over to where Maid stood at the moment. “I like this pose.” The billionaire gave a thumbs up to one of his precious bimbos.

“Maid was a bad woman,” Mellie responded with a pout.

John sighed. Maybe he should have kept her slightly smarter? She was quite the dimwit now. “All of them are...except for you…”

Mellie brightened and kissed him again. “Mr. Davidson, you have an 11am meeting and then a very important meeting at 2pm.” That was all it said on the calendar event her neuro-chip had downloaded: “Very Important Meeting.”

John awkwardly grabbed her backside. “You have an important meeting with that trainer. Gotta get some more movement in bed.”

They sat down and enjoyed their breakfast. Mellie hummed happily to herself. Maid stared blankly behind them. She could not imagine being any happier than she was right now.

John scanned through the news of the morning. The normal assortment of business, politics, and sports consumed his attention, but a video showing a pretty soccer star at the charity event caught his eyes especially. She was dark haired, toned, and, while tomboyish, also very feminine. It was clear that the young woman felt uncomfortable in the spotlight.

John bit down on his lip. No, no, he had just gotten Mellie. Maybe she could use a friend? No, no, he sighed. This time his attention would not wander off.

It would not hurt though, he mused while calling Mellie over, to find out all the information she could about this young woman, to look her up.

The End

* * *

COMMISSION: This story is dedicated to the wonderful person who commissioned the story! You can find out about commissioning a story by viewing this page. You can also support my writing, see my website for more information, and receive rewards for doing so!

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