Ursula was up much earlier than she was used to; long nights of decadent domination kept the average hypno-dominant like her awake until the wee hours, sleeping into the afternoon if she was lucky. She expected the same of Dazzling, her recent savior-turned-mentor, but apparently the reputable mercenary kept a tight regimen for herself, including early morning workouts, often a lot of late-morning time dedicated to independent study (mostly studying target details and logistics), plus a daily visit to her favorite café, which Ursula was invited to for the first time.

"So, what made you want to be a full-time hypnotist, let alone an underground one?" Dazzling inquired as the pair walked along the sparsely-populated dawn-lit sidewalk, engaging in more of their daily quid pro quo, learning more about one another to test their compatibility, enjoying the results thus far.

"This old hypnotist that did a demonstration at my university in Edinburgh. I was a junior then, and was already well-versed in guys that just wanted to fuck. Goatee, white ponytail, and carried himself well, but barely bothered hiding his interest in the...student body, shall we say. His routines worked on everyone, including me. But knowing what he wanted before and especially after the show put me in a disposition that left me less suggestible than he wanted."

"What'd you do after, kick the shit out of him?"

"Yeah, the way that hurt his pride the most. Used the body he wanted to induce trance, gave him a sexy strip tease, let his hard-on stay extended and excited. I actually sling-shotted my wet panties in his face, and held them there gently as I mimicked what he did on-stage to get them deep fast."

"Nice!"

"Oh yeah, he was a great pussy-licker. And that's what equated to sex by the time I was done speaking to him."

"My kind of table-turning," Dazzling approved.

"Makes me feel more than a little fraudulent that Master Harry got a hold of me," she grimaced at the memory. "AND almost roping you into that bullshit."

"I might have to resort to suggesting you stop apologizing for that; as I've said many times, it happens to even the best of us," Dazzling chided.

"It's never happened to you."

"That you know of," was the older hypnotist's smirk as they approached their destination. It was a small, tucked away place called the "Summer Jewel Cafe." It looked like the employee inside was just getting the place set up, the open sign lit up ten feet before they reached the door to enter.

"Good morning," the barista behind the counter with her back turned, as if knowing exactly who had entered her store.

"Good morning to you, August. How goes the day?"

Turning to face them, the cafe's first customers of the day saw a lightly-tanned brunette greet them with a friendly smile. August's short brown hair was in a ponytail, and Ursula could see from her forearms toned muscles, indicating along with the rest of her that the barista did a lot of heavy lifting on the job, or often got a good workout in. With a calm expression that didn't seem to know she was facing a few potent mental manipulators, the younger hypnotist got the impression of "athletic Mona Lisa" from August, complete with knowing smile.

"Just like any other day, birds chirping, sun smiling, bodies begging for caffeine," she laughed, handing Dazzling a cup that already seemed ready-made for her.

"You must be psychic," Dazzling took the cup, savored the first sip of her special blend.

"And what can I get your friend here?"

"I recommend the 'Jade pending' blend," Dazzling said.

Ursula's eyes scanned the board above the bar, searching for the recommendation. "Sorry I don't see the...wait, jade pendant?" A lone piece of jewelry, a small jade orb, hung from around August's neck in a simple chain.

"No no, 'Jade pending,'" Dazzling corrected, pointing towards August that suddenly looked spaced-out.

"Ah, I see. That does sound special," Ursula chuckled. "But I did have my eye on that peppermint mocha."

"Good choice. August, one peppermint mocha for my friend here. And please, make it snappy," Dazzling snapped her fingers in the barista's direction, setting off a chain reaction that Ursula interpreted as a euphoric wave coming over the woman, followed by a bit of spunk, ready to eager serve her early clientele. It was less than a minute before Ursula was enjoying her drink almost as much as Dazzling was enjoying hers.

"Mmmmmmm. Almost nothing tastes better than 'free.' Though I guess that is a bit of misnomer," Dazzling admitted, savoring a slow sip of her coffee.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, small businesses like these are always financially unpredictable, and locals like me supporting small business. And so does the rich mogul or two that heeds the advice of a...'financial consultant' every once in a while to make angel investing part of their charitable givings."

"Ah, one of your more endowed pets?" 

"Or just another loyal customer of this fine establishment," Dazzling took longer sips, allowing her tongue to savor each intake more than the last.

"Wow, you're really a connoisseur of that coffee."

"Yeah, it's my...usual order," Dazzling's face registered a flash of something for a second, perplexing both hypnotists as she said it.

"What does it taste like?"

"It's like...it's like sitting in one of those chic outdoor cafe's, enjoying the outside, but there's nothing else around for miles besides color, fragrant gardens, filled with cherry blossoms and...mmmmmm everything else sweet."

"That's...descriptive," Ursula found herself focusing on Dazzling more than ever, never expecting to find ironically un-subjective submissive indicators written all over her face.

"Mmmmmhmmmmm....the kind of place that makes you want to thank my barmaiden...and step deep into that garden....just with your coffee and..thoughts...and just follow...." Dazzling's tone made the sentence sound incomplete.

"Follow what?"

"Follow....orders."

"Whose orders?"

"She means mine."

Ursula turned to the sound of someone else's voice, finding August Jade finishing blinking herself awake, smiling.

"How...what the..." she eyed the way Dazzling slowly finished the last of her cup before standing upright, dreamily, lost in the garden blooming in her head. Looking down to the cup in her hand, she set it down and backed away from it, looking accusedly at the barista.

"To explain, there's nothing in your cup that's going to inspire that. What Cass and I have is a bit of give and take."

"Experimenting with special blends for years working in places like this, I kind of stumbled upon one or two brews that made some...influenced, more on the suggestible side. You'd be surprised how many bad, sometimes rowdy customers get a taste to this, and come out mellow to the point of...well, better for society."

"So you just make those 'murderous without coffee in the morning memes' a reality?" Ursula asked skeptically.

Shrugging her shoulders, but laughing after a brief moment of thought. "Yeah, actually. I may have saved a life or two this way. But anyway, I thought I was some big, secretive hypnotist having real influence over people, until she walked into my establishment one day," August gestured towards Dazzling.

"Before her, I would've thought all the tropey hypno shit out there was sooo fake; after enjoying my coffee and a conversation I don't fully remember, she got to me before I could even remember what happened. All I really remember is her using my name to trance me, with a sweet taste in my mouth like as if I drank my own hypnotic coffee, which I know I'd consciously never do during business hours. And once I let my secret slip and she realized I could do something similar with coffee, she had to try it, which after a few samples, left her open to me."

Ursula felt like laughing at the story that sounded too plausible to be real, yet probably was.

"And now it's a bit of a thing where she does to me, and I do to her every other day. I would stop her doing me on my end, if she didn't make it feel so great. And at least I know how my influenced should feel. And if you're a hypno-friend of hers, hopefully I wasn't wrong in laying all these details out for you."

"...and what if I hypnotize you in retaliation?"

"As long as you're going to be nice about it, I don't think I'll mind."

"Will she remember this happening?"

"Since she wants to remember, yeah. 'Order up,'" August triggered, and Dazzling woke from her trance, chuckling at August from over the counter who beamed back.

"Hope that didn't freak you out, Urs."

"A little bit, yeah."

"Well, let that be a reminder all hypnotists should keep in-mind, even hypnotists can be gotten to by others. Sometimes it's even easier for us as we already know how fantastic slipping to that other end of consciousness feels."

"Very true," August agreed. "Still hate how you tied mine to my name of all things."

"No you don't, you love it," Dazzling reached over to hold the jade ball, gripping her gift to the barista, gently pulling her forward a step. 

"I...love it?"

"Mmmhmmm, like a wave of flustering hot, summer heat." August leaned her head back, but was pulled forward by Dazzling's grip of the chain, before being snapped awake.

"...I still need to make you stare at this pendant, and follow orders," she teased Dazzling, making her blink and doubt the dominant for half a second.

"You know how fun that is, hanging that pendant just above your own eyes. Every...single...forgetful...night."

"Just like you know how you need to wake up to a cup of August Jade to attain dreamy bliss. Every...single...thoughtless..day."

"You ladies done flirting with each other?" Ursula interjected.

"Not nearly," Dazzling joke.

"And did you tell August about the small text on that jade pendant?" The raven-haired hypnotist noted, confusing the brunettes. 

"You never noticed," Ursula's Scottish accent came through more in her question, and more into her speech as she reached over to inspect August's jewelry. 

"It's hard to see, but you can really notice it if you really look," Ursula said, looking down at the pendant as her other hand, slyly reached up to place a finger softly at the crown of the barista's forehead. "It's hard to read like trying to read what color of nail polish I wear on the finger touching you, but you try to read anyway. No matter how strained your vision is. No matter how your eyes rooollll back, and want to. No matter how easy my voice starts to make everything sound. No matter how long you listen because there is no matter but my voice, nothing exists but it and the words that shape thoughts that makes your thoughts drop as my finger drops down your face and your eyes follow down the slope of your nose until it falls off and you fall with it SLEEP!"

Narrating August's fall perfectly, snapping her fingers as Ursula's finger lost contact, readily catching a head nodding forward, the Scottish hypnotist drove her new subject into a very pliable state. Dazzling half-smiled at the brilliant, rapid conversational induction, wondering where her protege was going with this.

"If she gets me later, it won't be before I get her first," Ursula winked, and the traditional hypnotists laughed.

To August's recollection, she'd let her favorite customers depart with a wave, knowing she'd taken Cass again, noting the pretty girl with blue highlights in her hair would be next. She'd be soo beautiful downing a special house blend, pretty enough that August almost considered going in the back to masturbate on her prettiness. 

"Maybe later," she told herself as the next wave of morning customers began to roll in.

***

Walking into Avery Plaza, the biggest skyscraper complex in the city, was a hurried senior executive assistant named Eric Shant, moving quickly to the elevator banks to reach one of the suite-level floors. He would've ran from the valet up as many flights of stairs as it took to reach the suite he was rushing to, not just for excitement's sake, but working sometimes 16 hour days and having so few moments to give to himself. What amounted to a private date was waiting for him in the suite, and the elevator was barely moving fast enough before it would cut into the allotted hour he allowed himself. 

Resisting the urge to speed-walk after exiting the elevator, knowing he'd stand out on the security cameras, he calmly walked to his destination, practically boiling under the collar. 

Stepping into the empty room, Eric looked around for his date, expecting her to be near the entrance. 

"Cosette?"

Calling out to her was met with silence, until he heard a little bit of shuffling or some movement towards the bedroom. Devoting some of his time to foreplay usually, Eric was a little pleased to hear her already ready for the main event. As he stepped in-front of the doorway, jacket off, pants unbuckled, and shirt half-unbuttoned, he stared at a woman in a leather jacket, jeans and leather boots, staring at him seductively behind raven locks and blue highlights.

"Who the hell...where's Cosette?"

"I'm sorry, love," Ursula crooned in her Scottish accent, crossing one leg over the other rhythmically. "Cosette's away for the moment. And to be honest, I was really hoping to meet you."

"Meet me? How do you know about me, or Cosette?" Eric asked, obviously confused and perturbed.

"Cosette is an acquaintance of mine, who's very much talked you up, and piqued my interest. I'm a very good judge of character even from someone else's description; everything I've heard of you...it makes it hard for a girl to help herself, to be very honest, even moreso just looking at you now. I hope I'm not making it too hard for though, sweet Eric. Or do I?" Ursula clearly set her sights on the articles of clothing ready to be removed, clearly revealing the impression she made on him. 

"If I am making this hard for you, you can trust me to make this very, very easy for you now..." Uncrossing her legs to rise and stand a bit taller than her client, she stepped up to him, letting a hand reach in to caress his waxed chest, circling him, never letting her hand lose contact.

"I want you..." she intoned behind him, several times, until it turned into a mantra, crooning it in both ears, among many whispers.

"I want you..." it always felt like she implied something more specific after ever repetition, but a besieged Eric simply waited for clear, spoken instruction.

"I want you...without clothes on..." she ended with a sing-song, sluggishly yet desperately disrobe, while Ursula's hand kept him rooted. As his shirt fell, her touch along his skin lowered until it was just above his pants and underwear, both were thrown aside quickly.

"I want you...feeling my touch, all over you..." Eric could only assume her hand was still there, multiple places across his body, lost in the occasional sight of the grinning brunette, wrapped up in her suggested, commanded wants.

"I want you...on your knees..." for some reason Eric had no trouble slipping down to his knees, looking up to see Ursula still tower over him.

"I want you...stroked in deep pleasure..." A hand stroking the length of his sex made the pleasure deep; it didn't matter if it was a phantom hand of her suggestion or a real hand holding his hottest appendage.

"I want you...obedient...compliant....open...sleepy..." Each word felt wonderful to hear, and too pleasurable to refuse. He was already obedient, compliant, and open, just from from her words. The urge to yawn struck him as something he should've questioned, but he felt beyond questioning anything.

"I want you...to sleep now," pressing her finger to make his head, the actual contact somehow stronger than her suggestions.

"Very good...Cosette, out of the closet," Ursula called out, and the expected date emerged from the bedroom closet, spending an eternity stroking and edging herself while Ursula waited to get Eric, the senior executive assistant and right-hand man to Gerald Brandt, essentially the real managing power of the Avery empire, and ultimately the family wrangler of the vociferous, public faces of the company, i.e. the Avery daughters, Danielle and Deidre

As Ursula drew him deeper into unquestioning obedience, it was almost therapeutic to have a woman in-charge of him that for once wasn't a bratty, spoiled troublemaker.

It was one thing to work long hours.

It was one thing to work long hours for an infamous corporation.

It was the worst thing to work long hours for an infamous corporation headed by supermodel brats with no one really reigning them in.

On some deep level, Eric unconsciously agreed that such women deserved to be controlled, dominated, taken down several pegs, and that Ursula deserved to be the one to do it. It pleased Mistress Ursula so much that he was ready to assist her, and it pleased him to know he was a pleasing submissive.

Ursula sent a text that Dazzling waited to receive in the hotel lobby, confident that her apprentice would make easy work of the targets of the first phase of their job. The next phase would be hers, using Eric to get to the next domino, unaware of how ready they were to fall.

***

Gerald Brandt rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, removing his glasses to rub the spot where they rested heavy like everything weighed heavily on him. After a full day of meetings requiring his attendance, ones he couldn't send Eric Shant to cover, he was ready for the day to be over and the weekend to give him the reprieve he needed, away from anything having to do with the last name Avery. The only thing keeping him from departing early was a report that was due fifteen minutes ago, only Eric was usually thirty minutes early in getting Gerald what he asked for; it was a bad sign that even his dutiful assistant would disappoint like everything else surrounding him professionally.

The knock on the door grabbed his attention, see it open with his secretary and a suited stranger following behind.

"I'm sorry Mr Brandt, but I was told this impromptu meeting couldn't wait. This is Ms. Walters, and she has something to show you."

The secretary let Ms. Walters walk by her, forgetting how much Gerald disliked unverified introductions like this in favor of thinking of how good it felt to let Ms. Walters be the boss for once. The way she shivered underneath her own clothing made the woman approaching Gerald smile, knowing the secretary would not let anything disturb them, prioritizing their privacy and the feel of the woman's handshake, the jolt into a world of pleasure, and how echoing sounds in her head made her breathe deep like a heady, sexy perfume.

"Good afternoon Mr. Brandt, I'm sorry to intrude on your approaching weekend-"

"You can make it up to me by explaining what's so important this late in the day," he interrupted, letting professionalism slip, something Ms. Walters didn't seem to mind at all.

"Would espionage count as important, Mr. Brandt?"

Tired feelings evaporated in a second as Gerald sat up, physically wired in an instant, bracing himself for disappointment, dread, and decisive action that needed to be taken.

"What espionage?" 

"According the security firm I work with, the kind directly affecting your underlings."

Ms. Walters pulled out a tablet, bringing up a hidden camera recording of Eric Shant speaking to a woman in a black jacket in what looked like one of their suites in the floors below.

"You're spying on Avery employees?" the manager's voice rose a few octaves, recognizing Eric in the feed, letting the rage he felt leave his mouth incrementally.

"No, Mr. Brandt, no one from my firm is targeting anyone from yours; it's the woman we're after."

"Who is she?"

"We believe she's operating under an alias, "Ursula," and operating with a unique skill."

"Which is?"

"Hypnosis," Ms. Walters said in a deadpan voice, suppressing a smile.

The serious tone changing to the seemingly fantastical nearly made Gerald want to pound his fists hard on his desk and toss important paperwork in the air, but he kept his composure by shooting the woman a seething look. 

"So help me, if this is some sort of prank-"

"I assure you, Mr. Brandt, it's not a prank at all. The kind of hypnosis this Ursula is practicing should be taking seriously. And I am here to help you, so feel free to relax on that score." 

The deadpan tone of her voice carried something with it, almost a calming after effect that got her point across with fewer words than most others would need.

"Why is she circling him? And why is he starting to take his clothes off?"

"I would be more concerned about the words being spoken to him, which may answer every question you have about what's unfolding. Ursula apparently has a special way with words."

"What is she saying?"

"If our efforts with lip reading and examining the scope of her work has been correct, it's to the effect of her words being worth listening to, speaking about the quality of her voice to enhance the importance of every word. Some of it is practically a mantra, where she keeps saying the same thing, like 'I want you...' and that's how she gets what she wants.

Gerald watched the screen raptly, never expecting to catch his subordinate in such a compromising sight, but the more Ms. Walters spoke, the more this Ursula kept his attention, eyes following the circle she walked around him over and over, wondering how this unassuming woman held power enough to alter loyalties with mere words.

"As you can see, she wants him totally vulnerable...totally exposed....she wants him paying attention to everything she's saying and doing. It's as if she wants all of him, so it's simpler and accurate to say that she wants him...all of his actions and thoughts in the center of her whirlwind."

The way her deadpan slipped into a tone of descriptive interest almost filled in the blanks for how this Ursula was supposed to sound in taking a person over, leaving Gerald simultaneously understanding and ignorant.

"She wants him...listening to every word. She wants him...absorbing every meaning...of every word. She wants him...feeling what the sound of her voice can do a relaxing body. She wants him...comfortable and quiet. She wants him...with arms too heavy to rise. She wants him...with legs too rooted to move. She wants him...with a torso with pleasure poured into his core, extending to every limb. She wants him...heading in merely a listening state, where pleasure is her voice flowing from his ears...to his mind...down the rest of him..."

Lost in the narration of the increasingly lewd display, the problem presented to him seemed less pervasive as only his understanding, and his reaction to the sight and sounds of feminine manipulation, grew.

"She wants him...to be wanted...to want more of what he wants...and to be happy to get it...lost in what he's found...caught in what's he's been gifted. She wants...his obedience...his surrender...his everything. She wants...and he obeys. That is how she wants him....that is how I want you...listen now, and slip into the ecstasy of pleasing me...wanting whatever I want of you..."

It didn't seem to matter that the footage repeatedly showed Ursula circling Eric on a loop, nor did it matter that Gerald peripherally resembled his subordinate as he silently became Ms. Walters.

"And for the record, I want you to refer to me as Dazzling, a Dazzling Lady..."

His lips trying to move, but something in him was confused about what was poised to leave them and signify a change that had washed over him.

"No need to be shy now...I want you to call me what I am...'a...Dazzling...Lady..."

"A...Dazzling..Lady," he breathed in a deep sigh.

"Very good. And while you're at it, I want you to feel better as you repeat the following...'A Dazzling Lady has me swayed. A Dazzling Lady must be obeyed.' Let those loose lips conform and shape your reality now. Go on, give Dazzling what she wants...

"A...Dazzling Lady has me swayed. A Dazzling Lady must be obeyed," began the monotonous litany that continued as glassy eyes barely remained focused on the tablet.

She smirked at her plan coming to fruition, using Ursula's domination from less than an hour ago, convincing him it was an ongoing occurrence that he needed to stop. A text sent back to Ursula had the apprentice arriving at Gerald's office five minutes later, Gerald's secretary knowing the leather clad hypnotist was an exception for entry, Ursula smiling her as she smiled at nothing.

"I knew this was going to work, but I still can't believe that worked; I think your ingenuity is a hypnotic trait unto itself," came the compliment that Dazzling basked in for a moment.

"Possibly, which makes being a hypnotist all the more fun. And the best is still probably to come."

"Any more underlings to get to before the real target?"

"Nope, Eric and Gerald are the direct link to Ms. junior heiress the 2nd place," they laughed. "But she could be the most challenging today," Dazzling added.

That statement threw Ursula for a loop, considering everything she'd heard and researched when it came to Deidre Avery. "Seriously? This air-headed poster child for vanity is going to be problematic?"

"It's the vanity I'm concerned with. Strange as it seems, an inflated-enough sense of vanity can make for a difficult subject."

"How? I always thought the self-absorbed is quite malleable when feeding their ego."

"While true, that means that they have an acute sensitivity to being appealed to, often analyzing exactly how and why their ass is being kissed all day. Add to that a level of egotism that is used to manipulating others, she could suss out what we want from her if we're careless."

"I...never thought of vain people like that," 

"We're not so different as hypnotists. Confidence feeds into a controlled sense of moderated vanity we have. More than one high-profiled target with ego to spare almost got me into trouble."

Ursula was tempted to ask who she could've meant, but declined and simply nodded, accepting of Dazzling's experience.

"And not that I'm not having fun, but someone wanted to get to a visibly public figure like this just for some tabloid controversy?"

"I'm sure there's big money in it somewhere, especially in our bank accounts. But I'm more concerned about who's paying."

The cryptic sentence made Ursula think for a moment, followed by a small wave of worry flowing down her spine.

"You think a connection to the Kalatravaasa is behind this?"

Dazzling gave her own small look of concern, not bothering to hide behind an unbothered facade.

"That is my fear, but honestly, the only real way to find out more about who's behind this is to take the job and get a direct, and indirect look at what's what."

"How do you mean 'indirect?'"

"Assuming the Kalatravaasa has designs on myself, so do I have designs on them, and an inside man to report back about their designs."

As she still engaged in club affairs, Ursula thought Dazzling referred to her, but the way she emphasized man put her off that idea, and brought a mental image that made her smile.

"An inside man I used to know intimately?"

"Someone we'd know diminutively now, I'd say.

***

Early enough in the day, the personnel was sparse enough at a Kalatravaasa repository that few would be around to guard anything or ask questions. With the secretive nature of the club hosting organization, few even knew there was a place where things were devised and executed from, complete with records. Harry being one of the top hypnotists in the organization, qualified as need-to-know, for all accounts had full access to all their records. After the public display of using a submissive to help capture a reputable hypnotist like Dazzling Lady, he was greeted by approving nods and smiles of admiration, totally ignorant of what happened backstage after his stage show.

Deep down, he knew he didn't belong there if they knew the truth, just like he knew he belonged to the women he was sure were his slaves. It was beyond turnabout being fair or being outsmarted and living with the consequences; Mistress Ursula and his Dazzling Lady made up the majority of his will, and it became hard to act under any circumstance without their direction, or approval which he sought and fought for. Even being nothing for them felt good and proper, but nothing like the high of serving his owners; such a state of existence ensured that he would complete his mission without fail.

It was in the secure records room, where paper files where kept and computers without terminals linked to any online port were kept, and where he expected to find what he was looking for. Opening the door to the room, the last thing he expected to find was Master Martin seated in a chair, as if waiting for him to appear.

"Master Martin," he both greeted and questioned.

"'Master' Harry," he greeted back, only questioning his station, toying with the ring on his hand that bounced light off rooms ambient lamps and into his eyes. Repeated golden flashes struck him over and over and over, until the light smoothed out the thoughts he'd had, and a light bulb lit somewhere under the surface of most of his thoughts.

"Are we awake now, Harry?"

"So to speak," the more conscious Harry shook his head.

"How goes your investigation for your mistresses?" the last word were spoken in pained irony.

"It would probably be going well without interruption, or even convincingly if their insipid control could be removed?" Harry almost pleaded, already sick of playing both sides with multiple people in his head.

"Your request matches your hypnotic skills right about now - barely worth consideration. Serving them convincingly is your punishment, as it was always going to be. You're just lucky someone considered you in an ample position to be useful, lest you be tossed aside and replaced."

"Not before I set things right," Harry almost sneered, forcing his brain to come up with images of faux owners on their knees, desperate to serve his whims as it should've been that night.

"You'll get your chance, if they are feeling generous."

Harry didn't bother again asking who "they" are, merely assuming he'd already asked and had the notion to ask excised from his head.

"And before our little mental health check-up concludes, anything of interest that about the ladies at-hand? Nothing new, besides them being not to be underestimated or left to grow in autonomy. I get constant reminders of how smart and ambitious they are. I wish they weren't the threat some feared they would be, but they are. The longer we have more Dazzlings out there, the more we lose more Ursulas and gain more problems."

"And it's our prerogative to let them assume they're the smartest in the room, that the moves they make won't lead them right into our hands."

"You talk like your on their level," Harry indirectly queried.

"The only authorities you should be concerned with is me, and the women you're running errands for. Don't forget that," Martin gave him a glare, which morphed into a smirk.

"Or better yet, forget."

Another flash of the ring, and loud finger snap, and Harry found himself standing in the empty room, lost in pleasure surging from thinking of Dazzling and Ursula. He shook himself to his task, looking up the connection they needed, needing to report what he could, or could not find.

***

Deidre Avery's gait through the lobby when annoyed or angered was truly known amongst the staff; they all knew never to approach or obstruct her in any way. Today, the younger sister living in the shadow of her celebritized sibling that everyone associated with the name Avery, seemed much more angered than normal; no one knew it stemmed from a call she'd received from Gerald Brandt about 'questionable ventures' he vaguely told her. Deidre was into so many, it was likely that he had a bone to pick about several of them. And since her father was still alive and sought Gerald's counsel with frequency, not listening to him meant humiliating restrictions that never seemed to get imposed upon Danielle.

Downers before fun weekends often put Deidre in foul moods, tapping her high-heeled shoe on the carpeted floor of the elevator so loud, she might as well have been stomping. She resorted to stomping, storming his way to his office, past the secretary that knew better to let her storm past, without hypnotic instruction.

The doors opened wide as she was ready to tear Gerald a new one, when she found a gorgeous suited brunette sitting in his seat, legs crossed over at the ankles, greeting the Avery daughter with a smile. 

"Greetings and welcome, Deidre," Dazzling's words were inviting and haunting, the latter almost in a theatrical way. 

The bottle-blonde heiress had to look around to make sure she'd forced her way into the right office, only to find Gerald, his dorky assistant, and a few others in the background. One of them was holding a camera, centered on Deidre and Dazzling behind the desk.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Cut, Cosette, wait a minute," a woman in a black leather jacket said, as the blank-looking woman lowered her phone which served as the camera.

"Hello Ms. Avery, I'm Ursula Victor, a director and creative the network sent over," the Scottish woman introduced herself.

"N-network?"

"Yes, the one you made several pitches to?"

Deidre vision cycled between Ursula and Gerald, the latter of whom seemed to be letting this happen.

"Did hell just freeze over, or-"

"Deidre," Gerald told her in a soft voice, as if afraid it would be captured by the audio. "There have been talks between the network and your father; they had a pitch to present to us; it's met our approval, and something they would like to move onto quickly, if you are interested."

The heat that left hell seemed to flow into her cheeks as the opportunity to finally have some media play of her own actually arrived. The setup looked weird, very found footage, but if she played along, even if this fell through, maybe one of her ideas could be resurrected and made real.

"I am interested," Deidre hid her true level of interest as best she could. "Is there a make-up artist on hand, or..."

"No, we're treating this totally off the cuff, like an impromptu pilot. Very unorthodox, but we think we can make it work. We'll film what we have, get the idea the green light, and work on all the other details post-proposal. For now though, let's re-run the scene where you step in and find yourself unsurprised, confronting the woman evil business woman."

"Ah, of course," the explanation set things correctly in her mind.

"I might also come into the scene to play around with a few possibilities. But the camera will be running regardless, so we we'll roll with whatever happens."

"Good, and what's the scene?"

"Heroine confronts evil mind-controllers."

Deidre tried not to show disdain from the corny concept, but she exited the room while closing the doors, but made her entrance again much more gracefully, leaning in to the almost schlocky heroine trope.

"Greetings and welcome, Deidre," Dazzling practically purred in her direction, surprising the heroine in how she could sound even more seductive than the first take. 

"You won't get away with this, whoever you are."

"Me? I'm Dazzling," the hypnotist proclaimed while lowering her legs with the same grace Deidre would've used if their positions were reversed. "And that's exactly why I've already gotten away with this."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Oh, and what do you have to say about it? Something about stopping me, or something about giving in? As you will find, noble Deidre, there is a difference between anything you have to say about it, and exactly what you have to say about it?"

"Oh yeah, and what's the difference you harlot?"

"Hypnotic harlot, if you please. But the difference posed in your mind is simple, the former says that you have a choice, and the latter says that a choice has been made for you, and your input is not needed, only your obedience."

"That won't happen."

"Won't it? How can you stop it when choices a former ability, and all that's ahead is the choices I make for you. And you haven't even heard the best part yet."

"Which is?" Exchange after exchange, Deidre wanted to look towards the camera to make sure that the embarrassing line delivery was actually what they were looking for. This Dazzling, whoever she was, respectfully leaned into it so hard, it almost came right around to convincing. The way she looked at her, the way she took half a step forward towards, her, circled, and gave her space, swarming her with lines she was supposed to respond to, surrounding her with a presence that was outdoing the command heroine she was supposed to be.

"The best part is part is, I know I don't have to force, to make you have to do anything; you will want to do it?"

"Huh," the reactive phrase naturally left her lips.

"That's right, it's merely a matter of desire. And oh, what you will desire in merely a matter of moments."

Knowing this was one long experimental take and that there would be other chances to set it right in her favor let her continue to lose herself in the scene. Immersing herself into all of it felt easier with Dazzling leading; she played a villainess well, almost too well. The depth of Dazzling's green eyes she was almost afraid to meet, peering into intense stares. Her lips were easy to follow, setting the scene tone with every line, their supple shape and red coloring making Deidre want to read every word carefully. 

Not only was it magnetic, but it also tugged at memories of being the seductress, getting whatever she wanted with prettied lips and suggestive innuendo. But more than that, it reminded her of the kind of woman that took it deeper, a woman that almost made talking and seducing look...magical. Eavesdropping on her older sister like she often did for rumors or digging up dirt, she listened to her sister literally fall under some woman's spell. She'd never heard her, or any Avery sound so surrendered, or breathlessly happy about it. 

"Give up yourself, give up everything," the voice uttered, and all the media deity considered a goddess by some was "yes Goddess."

Even from a listening distance, it was like the accented words could've caught her too. She got away as fast as she could, afraid she'd made a noise giving herself away. Since then, she'd been avoiding contact with her sister, and any of her entourage, but still spying and seeing how she could profit from the circumstances.

Feeling anything close to what made Danielle some kind of puppet woke Deidre up quickly from the scene. Feeling herself awaken from that level of immersion was scary 
enough, shaking her head and literally pushing a confused Dazzling almost to the ground. Running at top speed in designer heels, she made it to the elevator and immediately got in it to ride it down to get security on the ground floor. 

She didn't make it that far down before the elevator stopped suddenly, in-between floors. She tried her cellphone, but cell service within inside the car was non-existent. The elevator phone itself held nothing but a busy signal the moment Deidre picked it up.

"Fast getaway, princess. But maybe you should've taken the stairs," Dazzling's voice clearly spoke in the elevator speakers.

"There are no stairs on the executive level, bitch!" Deidre yelled, futily banging on the elevator buttons and walls.

"That sounds as dangerous whoever set things up to allow security to stop elevator calls and shut down cell reception, trapping people at will. Or as dangerous as 
thinking I couldn't get to security before our formal introduction. And perhaps as dangerous as calling a woman that's already been in your emptied head a 'bitch.'"

"What the hell do you want?" She screamed at the speaker.

"To finish what we started, of course."

"You won't get me like you got Danielle; I'm nobody's robot or whatever."

"If you mean slave, you not anybody's slave yet. And I haven't gotten to Danielle Avery at all, though the idea is tempting once I have you well in-hand."

"I swear, when I get out of here-"

"When you get out of there, whenever I decide that will be, you'll be swearing to me, princess," Dazzling interrupted, a sprinkle of anger sprinkled her domineering tone.

"And perhaps to me as well, sweetie," Ursula voice joined the elevator conference call, calmer and more seductive.

She screamed and pounded against the walls again, hoping a nearby elevator car or someone else could hear her.

"Just like you won't be controlling the elevator containing the sleepy beauty who has yet to realize her story has already been written, no matter where the elevator goes," Dazzling smoothly transitioned into the tone and cadence that'd begun to take Deidre. Screaming a few more times didn't seem to be reaching anyone that would help her, nor did it wash away how the voice made her felt very recently.

"And where the elevator goes, it takes out little princess with it," Ursula crooned. "Where could she even think to go, if she could think?"

"Her last thought seemed to desire going down in the elevator to get away. An amusing irony since as many elevators as princesses ride to high heights, they must know that going down makes them feel lighter on their feet all of a sudden. Going down means things feel easier...floaty...weightless. Unconcerned with gravity, 
movement, or anything outside of the space around her. Only concerned with the sound of my voice that floats all around her now, surrounding her as she desires to go down. Deeper...deeper...floating and falling in the direction she wants to go, because she wants to go down...for me...."

Escapist thoughts anticipated the feeling of the elevator going down to safety, but strangely-accurate words changed what going down meant, the sensation beneath Deidre's feet took pressure off. Safety became not having to worry, something she really wanted, considering accepting it from the voice tricking her perceptions. The journey downward jumbled thoughts as Deidre slowly became convinced that she and Dazzling would get what they wanted if she went down...

"But going down feels like the trance the princess was worried about," the Scottish counterpart enticed with her counterpoint with a soothing trill; Deidre never found European accents particularly appealing before the voice that took her sister, and the one jubilantly, indirectly addressing her. "Perhaps going up in the elevator would give her more control, which it seemed like she was very interested in. And it's interesting how as one rises, pressure pushes one down gently, fixing someone to one spot, rooting them in-place. She can feel her own body rising up, her choice to rise, her choice to feel forces gently pushing from above, pushing her down, convincing her muscles, her legs, how right it would feel to fall down. Choosing only the weight of choice, to lower herself as nature intended, to rest on comforted knees under the right amount of chosen pressure. Choosing the control of kneeling for forces resting above her, as they concur with the control she 
exerts by kneeing for forces above her....kneeling for forces above her..."

As the car changed trajectory, so did reactive muscles. Knees bent further with every second, Deidre wondering why they were on the verge of buckling, even though she knew that's what happens when you go up in an elevator. Thoughts of what awaited her upwards made her want to scream again, but it came out in a muddied whimper. She reminded herself she was trying to escape, even though it made so much sense to kneel for forces above, naturally forcing her down...the direction of that thought confused her, something dazzling voices began to explore and exploit further.

"Can a princess have the luxury of rising for the sake of falling down?

"Is it as luxuriating as dropping and floating up?"

"Do the forces above let her rise to her knees?

"Shall the forces above let her go as deeply as she desires?"

A torrent of blended, mesmeric voices evoked mind-numbing, contradictory senses bent themselves for the voice above Deidre. She felt unable to move her feet, rooted yet ready to float out of her shoes. Individual limbs indecisively desired to surrender to floating or to submit to the proper pressure for kneeling. A lolling head could barely tell if the elevator car was moving, if it moved based on what she wanted, or if the forces above made the decision for her. The pleasant disorientation made her hope what she wanted was the same as what whomever resided above wanted.

"Do the forces above force anything on a princess?"

"Does the princess feel the need to force anything?"

"Does force lie in control, lying in choice?"

"Is the choice made for control to lie in forces above?"

"If the princess so desires, she can align herself with those above her."

"If desire forces itself upon her, will the princess give in and become one with her choice to let go of control, to let her self be..."

"Letting herself be what forces above choose her to be..."

The elevator itself suddenly jolted a bit, and the slightest bit of pressure gave Deidre the pleasure of sinking down to her knees, so happy to have a direction, purpose, choosing to fall, and await the voices above.

As the elevator doors opened, a standing Dazzling and Ursula looked down at the capitulating Avery sister who looked so fortunate to give faces to the voices above her. 

"Now don't you feel better, princess," Ursula praised "kneeling, fallen, obedient?"

"Yes..."

"Yes Mistress Ursula," the Scottish hypnotist corrected.

"That's right, princess. Someone of your stature maybe royal, but only a Mistress, or a Dazzling Lady will rule," bending to fix her with the intense green eyes Deidre nearly fell to before her escape attempt, Dazzling enjoyed the thrilling rush of taking another slave that gave her any modicum of challenge in taking down, and an excuse to punish her for trying.

"Y-yess....Dazzling..Lady.." green eyes dragged her wherever the brunette wanted Deidre, even higher than her kneeling height.

"And I think it's becoming harder and harder to stay on your knees, where you belong, with those heavy clothes on. If you remove them, you may stay on your knees."

Designer clothes were so burdensome, Deidre practically ripped them all off her manicured talons, before she was naked and breathing freeing breaths she cherished. "Crawl and follow, princess. Lower than that," Dazzling told Deidre as the hypnodommes walked back to the office with their new slave belly-crawling behind them.

"So now that this reality show star is out of it, what now?" Ursula stood by Brandt's desk as Dazzling sat and propped her feet up victoriously, giving the security guards whispered, forgetful suggestions over the office intercom.

"Now that we have them, the goal is still to help create a bit of company and family in-fighting publications will love to cover, but it can't hurt to establish something more...long-term in them."

"Lifetime hotel comps?"

"If you're skilled enough, you can get that anywhere. But in all honestly, why settle for one sister, when you could have two?"

"Oooh, I like the way you think," Ursula gushed, before the intercom on Brandt's desk went off, catching Dazzling's attention.

"Your instructions were only to message for something gravely important," Dazzling's voice spoke firmly into the intercom to the secretary at her desk outside the office in a dreamy state. "Is this of great importance?"

"Yes...important."

"Then tell me what is important," she almost crooned.

"Dalton Avery is on the line, and is coming to the hotel."

Dazzling green eyes widened nearly in shock; of all things, she didn't expect Deidre and Danielle's father, the actual head of the company, to be putting in an appearance today. 

She might've panicked, if such information didn't lead to possibilities and interesting opportunities forming in her head.

***

Entering the lobby of the hotel, ahead of her father's unscheduled appearance, besieged by a phalanx of camera flashes like she was used to, was Danielle Avery. The current face of the empire, practically strutted in the entrance, she made herself known to everyone, surrounded by an entourage of friends and helpful porters. Looking to everyone she walked by, enjoying the awe of her celebrity, and the fear the of the wrath of her infamously-spontaneous temper, her view kept glancing back at the following group of people. A trained, almost programmed eye and practiced poise kept stealing glances in one direction - back to some of her favorite people in the world. Especially one.

Taller than Danielle or the others in heels, a raven-haired beauty clad in a black jacket, t-shirt, and skirt smiled a smile above others, especially symbolically. If the tabloids focused on her or bothered to know about her, they could only come up with the name of a part-time magician named Hannah. To those who knew her best though, who knew the power of her voice, her magic, and deep hypnotic green eyes, she was referred to as Goddess Hannah. The depth of her pleased expression welled from knowing Danielle wished she could publicly be Goddess Hannah's servile porter. Like the rest of her harem that made up Danielle's entourage, the heiress trailed behind the leading hypnotist with an easy, prideful smile, walking amongst her haremite sisters. Cheryl, Kendra, and Anna walked amongst their Goddess, happy to be so close to her while Danielle was jealous. Tricia wished she could join them, but she'd been given instructions to be elsewhere, and would greatly be rewarded for it later.

Knowing her father would be coming, Hannah thought it opportune to see if the whole family could meet, and come to agree on at least one thing - that a pair of green eyes might have her eyes on significant Avery acquisitions before long.