It’s the beginning of next week, after a weekend of frustration, distance with your friends, and constant obsession with the girl you hate.
So in the halls, first day back, you yell after Rita, who turns around and…smiles.
“Wearing perfume, eh? Trying to pretend you’re some grown-up sexy lady, when you’re just some cute little girl?”
…why do they always come out wrong lately?
“Do you like it?” Rita asks, as though you weren’t even insulting her at all.
“Of course not! It’s gross! Like you’re gross!” You wave your arms to emphasize just how gross Rita really is. Like, super mega gross.
“I love your lip gloss, by the way,” she says, not even acknowledging being told she’s ‘gross’.
“F-fuck, you think I wore it for you? How ridiculous!”
Rita tweeted about how she likes girls with pretty, glossy lips.)
“It goes well with your eyes. And you’ve been showing off your body more, too. Maybe I should come watch you at practice again?”
W-what the hell is this girl doing?!
You grumble and shove Rita aside…or you try to, anyway. But your body…your body feels weak, and somehow, somehow, that girl is looming over you, hand to the wall, by your side, looking down at you…
Rita tweeted about how she likes when girls tremble beneath her.)
“F-fuck you! You can’t…”
“Can’t what? Can’t bully you?” She smiles. Smiles, again, like she’s invulnerable, like no one can touch her. At this distance, you could easily hurt her, but your body can’t respond at all…“What, is turnabout not fair play, Alicia~?”
“A-at least you’re fighting back,” you stammer. “A-at least you’re trying to show some backbone.”
“Mmmm. But, I don’t think it’s a good thing to fight all the time, Alicia. I don’t think it’s good to keep persisting like this. All this fighting, all this bullying, and for what? Does it help you? Does it help anyone?”
You know there’s a reason.
You know there’s a reason that you want to hurt her.
But, for some reason, it can’t escape your lips, and –
and you feel her hands, on your chest, feeling you up, and you can’t do anything, you can’t respond, you can’t move,
you’re so wet, and all you can do is hope no one is watching, no one can see this –
“With all this fighting, see, all the conflicts that we’re in, over such petty things like the things you hate me for…”
hate Rita? Why would anyone do that?)
Rita’s lips, they reach for your ears, and she kisses, and bites it, and you tremble before her…knees utterly weak. Helpless. As she touches you like this.
Here, alone, where no one can see, she touches you. Like you’re her plaything. Like you’re nothing before her.
You’re so wet.)
“I’m pretty sure humanity is cursed,” she whispers, as she pulls away, just smiling like that, and walking away, getting away with everything.
you should tell…
you should tell a teacher, right?
but you won’t.)
(…you hate Rita
, and how she can make you instantly aroused with a single touch.)
(and how she
makes you breathe deeper when she’s near.)
(you wish she would
sting you again…)
(and you’re just there, touching the mark between your legs…)
Your dyke friend turns around, sipping on some boba, still in her uniform, meeting at a cafe after school. You notice how her eyes flick down to your midriff, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to.
Everyone’s been telling you you’re acting weird lately. Especially today. But, you don’t think you’re acting strange, you’re pretty sure? At least Sabina isn’t making a big deal of it, although you’re pretty sure she’s just doing it to get a good look at you.
“Yeah, Alice? What’s up?” she asks stuffing the cup into her chest through her loosened uniform.
…see, there’s just one thing that bothers you, and…it’s something only Sabina can help with, you’re pretty sure.
“You know how you said you’d let us try kissing you if we wanted?” Yeah, it was while you were all drinking, but still. Sabina isn’t the type to forget that kind of thing.
“Hehehehe. You’re on the winning side now, huh? Or do you play for both teams? Come on, let’s do it, let’s make out!”
…she’s really too excited about this, isn’t she?
You sigh. Guys don’t interest you these days. You’re starting to wonder if you’re into girls, but maybe you’re just not interested at all. Still, it’s an easy way to test, right?
“Come on, Alice!”
“…uh. Right. About that.” You’d told your other friends and they were weirded out by it, but…maybe Sabina won’t respond that way? “Could you, uh, call me Alicia from now on?”
“Ahahahahahahaha. Really? You wanna be called Alicia? And you said it all serious-like, too!”
“I-I am serious! It’s like. It’s a more grown-up name, right? ‘Alice’ makes me sound like a kid.”
Rita tweeted about how she wants you to stop calling yourself Alice, now and forever.)
“Like, didn’t you tell us all how you hated being called that? Especially by that tran-”
You slam your hands on the table.
“Don’t fucking use that word.”
Sabina goes wide-eyed, startled by your incredible anger, burning through you so rapidly.
“W-what? Alice, you’ve never had a problem bef-”
“Fuck it. Fucking…Rita’s a fucking bitch, but she doesn’t deserve that! Just because we hate her doesn’t mean…”
what are you saying?
you breathe out, feeling some kind of horrible foreignness in your brain, but this anger feels so real, more real than anything before
“…yeah, the others are right. You are acting weird, Alice. Ever since you got back from your suspension, you’ve…”
you tremble, unable to respond.
you just stand there, being stared at on the patio.
and sabina backs away, and just walks off, like you’re some kind of freak.
why is this happening?
this is rita’s fault.
it has to be.
…and so you run off, taking off back toward home, and don’t look back.
(you still haven’t figured out if you like girls.)
Rita tweeted that you should like girls.)
When you get home, you lock yourself in your room.
And you try to masturbate.
Rita tweeted that you should masturbate.)
It’s not just the itch anymore, or the discolored patch which looks weirdly…heart-shaped. It’s the heat inside you. The same heat as the anger you felt before pushing Rita down the stairs, only it won’t go away…
and it happens between your legs, too.
Like it did today. When Rita touched you. When she touched you like that. But that’s not – that’s not, normal, that’s sexual harassment, that’s –
you have to
try something normal, even if it’s dyke stuff.
You have your usual stuff. Some steamy romance novels your mom gave you once you were old enough to have ‘the talk’. But they’re not doing anything for you.
Nothing at all.
Why would they?)
Okay. Maybe you need to try girls. So you check out some of the stuff Sabina linked one time. She’s got some weird kinks, after all, and it’s all gay shit. Maybe there’s something in here…
Tentacles, no. Bondage, no. Handholding, no. Hypnosis…
…huh, that’s weirdly hot.
more than…more than just, more than just hot…
you start to read, more and more, getting more and more into the author’s words…
“I’m going to drown you in my love, Uriel. I’m going to ensure it surrounds you and will never let you go.” You smile, your whispers crawling through her, into her body, into her mind, into her soul, tingling through her brain as she opens herself completely to you. “You want that, don’t you?”
“i do…i want that so much! i want your love!” Uriel, even through her half-hazed trance, has never sounded like she’s wanted anything more…
“Then let me count down for you, in the sacred language…you’ll feel my love pulling you in, my darkness surrounding you…and you’ll fall deep into trance, where only my words and my love exist…”
Reading about it, about a girl taking control of another girl with hypnosis, it’s all bullshit of course but it’s still kinda hot to think about,
you want to drown in love, and there are other methods of control, and the girl in them looks kinda like…
You pant, rutting the sheets as you read those passages, check those pages, again and again.
This is – this is wrong. This is fucked up. Something is wrong with you. You shouldn’t be thinking this way.
Your fingers slipping in, again and again.
You haven’t felt this good before. Not ever. But it’s not enough. It’s not enough at all.
Because you’re trying to deny it. Deny it with all of your being.
It’s completely wrong. It should be as wrong as the Sun orbiting the Earth, or parallel lines intersecting.
Being into girls? That you can handle.
But there’s absolutely no way you could ever be into…
Rita’s smile. Rita’s face. Rita’s eyes. Rita’s voice. Rita’s hands. Rita’s lips. Rita’s everything. You look at these stories, these comics, about girls with glasses taking control of others in so many different ways, and you can’t help but see her in them.
you can’t help but want the control
you can’t help but want to drown in her love
you can’t help but want to be remade – !
No…no, you can’t.
You can’t do it…you can’t just let this happen.
You can’t let her win.
No matter how good it would feel, you won’t!
You won’t let her win.
You won’t let her stare into your eyes and make you hers.
You won’t let her warp your very existence into an extension of hers.
you won’t resist
you won’t resist.
you won’t resist rita.
your entire body quivers.
the noise that escaped your lips…you’re so lucky the tv is so loud.
your mind is still…
your sense of reason collapsed. completely. like a star going nova. everything that you’d tried to maintain in your mind became meaningless in an instant. all those lies you tried to tell yourself.
all erased, in an instant.
you don’t even care, that rita violated you with your hands, because it’s how things should be. as sure as the laws of physics, inexorable.
that star’s brilliance you called your hatred has ended. and now all that you are, the component matter of a star, is inexorably being drawn into another’s gravity.
rita sternbach. warping your very existence around her. like a black hole, unable to escape.
(unwilling to escape.)
you love rita, don’t you?
you start to cry.
but it makes you so happy.
your intense burning, filling you, must…must be, has it always been? has it always been love? have you always loved rita?
you don’t even know anymore.
you roll around on your bed. filled with a warmth you never realized possible.
your life feels so empty now. so empty without rita.
you must have loved her. you must have always loved her. you just never knew what love was.
you hurt her so much…
you run your fingers on the marking.
it’s totally black, now. black like that glove…
shaped like a heart.
you…you must belong to rita.
that’s the cause, right? that’s why this mark exists? a black and shining love?
like a miracle.
you must belong to her.
you must have always belonged to her.
your fingers…you dive in again.
ready to masturbate endlessly to this new truth.
to seal in your new existence.
you belong to rita sternbach.
When you wake up, you expect it to have all been a dream…or a nightmare.
But it isn’t.
You still feel the black heart mark there, and when you rub it, everything in the world feels right.
You literally masturbated until you passed out, even though after a certain point it didn’t even feel like anything but hurt. There are limits, after all.
But it felt wrong to stop.
You’re lucky it’s the weekend now.
If it weren’t, you’d have to handle this with all your friends around –
They’re not your friends anymore.
No one who hurts Rita gets to be your friend.
…but you’ve hurt Rita, too. Can that even be forgiven? Is it even at the point where forgiveness is even an option?
…you have to tell her.
You have to confess to her.
You’re in love with her. You must have always been. At this point, living without her is impossible. It’d be like living without air, or water. Living without Rita Sternbach would be living without purpose.
…her number is in your phone. Well, of course it is. But even you weren’t stupid enough to bully her through the phone (and the very thought that you did now disgusts you) where there could easily be a permanent record.
Trembling, so fearful, you send Rita a quick text:
alpha-alice: can we meet somewhere?
You can’t even say anything more, and you feel like hiding your phone under your pillow, before you almost drop it from how it shakes in your hands.
MagicalScienceGirl: Under the cherry tree in front of the college in an hour.
Of course. Confession under the sakura. It’s so romantic –
How would she know it’s a confession…?
You shudder, and touch your black heart mark. Your brand, the evidence you’re no longer your own person.
It doesn’t matter.
You’ll strip naked and genuflect if you have to.
Offer her anything she asks.
Anything, to feel even a tiny fraction of what assuredly must be the greatest feeling in the world:
Being loved by Rita Sternbach.
Aah, she’s standing under the cherry tree…it’s just like something out of an anime, isn’t it? That radiant girl, with her violet hair, her warm smile, her beautiful everything…
Staring at you, even from this distance. Knowing you’re there. That you’d, so easily, be near when she called your name.
You walk toward her, as she rests upon the trunk, her lovely eyes staring upon you and making you feel so small…
You don’t know what you’ll do if she rejects you.
But she says nothing.
You just…look at her. Your feelings caught in your throat.
How do you even…how can you even…
Maybe there’s a point where you just need to leap into things wholeheartedly, regardless of the consequences.
You blush. In a way you haven’t since you were a little girl.
You breathe in her perfume. You stare at her body.
You never realized how perfect she was until now.
Her hair. Her face. Her eyes.
All of her.
How could you do anything but be hers?
“I…I think…no, I know…”
Your feelings caught in your throat.
Why did she even accept this? She has no reason to. Being asked to a secluded location by her bully? Who would ever possibly fall for that? Not someone like Rita, and yet…she’s blessed you with this…
“I’m in love with you!”
Rita says nothing.
…have you failed?
If you’ve failed, you don’t know what you’d do…
But, if she’s still here, you can keep trying, right?
“I think…I think I must’ve always been in love with you, because I don’t know that I’ve ever been as obsessed with anyone. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize, but…”
her eyes roam over your body.
she even licks her lips a little…
d-does she like your outfit? Oh, you’d be so happy if she did, you must’ve remembered, just known Rita would want you to dress that way, and if she wants you, that’d be even better, how could you ever desire anything more…
“Please…please accept me, Rita. I know I’ve done so many horrible things to you, but I’ll never do them again, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you, anything at all…”
You didn’t even realize you were bowing before you look up to meet her eyes again.
Yes, you mean anything.
Rita doesn’t understand, does she? She can’t. What it’s like to feel this way. But you said it, and you mean it.
…and Rita smiles.
Such a cute smile, yet so sinful, so full of promise…
It means she’s accepted you.
But more than that.
It makes your heart brand pulse, and your body tingle, and your cunt drool.
Y-you’d…maybe you should show her? Maybe then she’d understand what it’s like for you. You can probably almost see it above your shorts…
“If you mean that, then meet me in two hours in Highton View Terrace. I will give you the address. Don’t be early.”
I-isn’t it usually ‘don’t be late’? No, no, you get it. She’s telling you not to be there right away. M-maybe she’s got something to prepare, maybe she’s testing you…
or maybe she just wanted to order you around.
You nod, your body flushed and hot, both from embarrassment and…
she leans in, and bites your ear again, and touches your butt, and you feel like you’ve been filled with electricity, like it’s your weak spot, and you can’t help but wish she would fuck you right then and there…
but she ordered you to come.
your will is hers, not yours…
you watch as Rita walks away, not giving you a straight answer, but…
but you meant it.
You’ll do anything to be hers.
Anything at all…
You timed it precisely. Even down to the elevator.
Not even a minute early, or late.
You couldn’t disappoint Rita.
Knocking on the door, and the door opens automatically…
“Come in,” her voice says from deep inside, and you obey.
The door closes after you…into this den of darkness.
You can barely see, the windows covered in blinds, the room lit by the glow of countless screens, countless glowing lights, all centring upon six computer monitors hanging on one end of the room, and before them…
Rita turns around upon her chair.
What little light there is frames her face, her violet hair, glinting off her glasses. Rich, glossy purple lipstick that matches her hair.
Most of her…
Most of her blends into the darkness. Like she’s part of it.
Like spotlights, that illuminate you first, before outlining…a-ah…
W-what is she wearing?
It’s all some kind of…pitch-black, yet utterly shiny, artificial fabric that completely hugs her body, yet seemingly made in patchwork, with little tiny pinpricks of glowing violet light outlining her…only a few strategic points more padded, hiding her nipples, and…a-and between her legs, you can’t tell what’s there even though you know what’s there, and it all looks like some kind of anime spacesuit, or maybe the kind of thing a supervillain would wear, including a glowing holographic violet heart on her chest…
W-what the heck has she been doing?
“It’s not as complicated as it looks,” Rita says. “Mostly nonfunctional, honestly. Except the metamaterials. Even the heart’s just a smart layer, the Lost Girls love them. The real suit’s still in the planning stages. Really, compared to what I did to you…”
…what she did?
Your eyes flick to the violet gem on her right hand.
That’s right, she touched you with that, didn’t she? That’s when…
You stumble back.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” Her smile is so utterly smug, self-assured, and you’re so helplessly wet, yet part of you is so afraid…“So occupied with the way your feelings changed, the way I filled every nook and cranny of your thoughts, every crease inside your brain, that you forgot I touched you.”
On the monitor behind Rita, there’s…there’s you. Pictures and videos of you. Stuff you’d been taking since she stung you, right up to the very first selfie you took of your exposed outfit.
…she hacked your phone.
And your computer.
And every device you used, really. All the cameras and microphones hijacked for her use.
“But you don’t care, do you?”
Rita stands up from her chair, and you tremble as she pulls at the hem of your shorts, her shiny, polished, smooth black-gloved hand tugging it down and staring upon your heart brand.
The brand she created. That slowly grew upon you after she stung you.
The brand you didn’t even realize didn’t emerge from spontaneous realization of your love for Rita.
“Your love for me is entirely artificial. A poison. But instead of poisoning your body, it poisons your mind. A black toxin that ensures you fall in love with me. To the point where you’d do anything for me. To the point where you don’t care about anything else but me.”
Her other hand reaches to touch your cheek.
You moan, just from that tiny contact.
Your cunt drools.
(or is it her cunt, now?)
“To the point where you don’t care that I made you love me, or even love that I did.”
…and you do, don’t you?
You nod, mouth open, drool pooling inside your mouth as you feel so helpless under Rita’s touch, before Rita’s gaze.
as you should be.
as everyone should be.
“You were an awful person, Alicia Sentinella. One of the worst kinds of people. Petty, selfish, angry, violent. You would have been happy if I’d died, I bet.”
It feels like you were an entirely different person. How much you hated Rita…that’s truly terrifying. How willing you were to let her die, and you feel yourself starting to cry at the very thought…
Rita wipes your tears with her finger…
And slips it against your lips. Coated with the gloss Rita complimented.
You suck on it.
Inhale the smell of rubber that emanates from her hand. And the perfume that fills the room.
You suck on it like you would between Rita’s legs, if she’d only ask.
Following it as she moves it, until she pulls out too strongly with a wet ‘pop’.
“But, that’s okay. You’ll be a different person from now on.”
She leans in, and you feel her lips meet yours.
You think she wants to just start kissing endlessly, but…but no. She’s spreading out her lipstick over your gloss, spreading it…and it makes your lips tingle, and maybe it’s doing something more to your body and mind…and even if it isn’t, you’ll wear whatever Rita wants you to wear, do whatever she wants you to do…
You were brainwashed to love her.
And that only makes you love her more.
“But, there is one thing you need to do for me, Alicia. Before I start rebuilding you, and before we start turning your so-called ‘friends’ into my loving heart-branded thralls, just like you.”
Alicia. Being called the name Rita prefers is so nice. Why would you ever want to be called Alice? Alicia really is prettier. Rita was right.
Rita is always right.
“…say my name, Alicia.”
…of course. Of course she’d want that. You deadnamed her so many times, that you really should just…just accept that she asks this of you, until she asks you to stop.
You don’t deserve forgiveness. You don’t even deserve the joyous gift of Rita’s brainwashing love.
You’ll do anything at all to make sure you do deserve it, someday.
“R-rita,” you say.
Rita’s perfect, beautiful eyes stare down into you.
Y-you were saying her name, weren’t you…?
W-what does she…
You’re not stupid.
She wants you to call her something more.
Rita smiles upon you with violet lips. Aah…it feels so good to meet her approval…
To be pulled into her gravity, without escape.
“I knew sneaking those fetish stories into the list that TERF made for you would come in handy.”
O-of course. It had to be. It was too perfect otherwise. E-especially because you’re sure at least one of those had a girl with a…with a…
You stare between Rita’s legs.
Your mouth hangs open.
And seeing that, Rita presses her finger onto some panels between her legs, and…aah…
It flops out.
Y-you know, you’re no expert, and it’s certainly no hentai size, but that does look pretty big…
When Rita – when Mistress – hooks your lips with one of her fingers, and guides you to it, you take it without hesitation.
This is what your mouth is for.
This is what you are for.
And not just you…
“I’ll need your help, of course. To take the other girls for my own. It’s more than they deserve, just like it’s more than you deserve, but I always need new test subjects…and, besides. The concept of ‘deserve’ is so silly, isn’t it? If humanity is cursed, I’ll just have to break that curse, Alicia, like I broke you…”
You close your eyes as you’re guided into pleasuring your Mistress, opening your mouth wide.
Your Mistress. Your Rita.
The Rita that owns your very soul.
And if she desires those ‘friends’ of yours, even if you think they’re unworthy of Rita’s love…
Well, so are you, right?
So lucky you are, to have a Mistress as generous as Rita.
So lucky you are, to belong to her forevermore.