andice was still in bed when her phone buzzed. She was enjoying the feeling of an empty mind. She’d taken yoga classes at one point, tried to work on letting go of all her cares and worries, but meditation had never really worked for her. If only I’d had Master PC back then, she thought. It was like a shortcut to zen. Her mind was coming back to her now. It had been at least 15 minutes since her orgasm and she felt mostly normal. Maybe a little slow, a little duller than normal. But that could also be because she still had a finger in her pussy, enjoying the delicious afterglow.

She checked her phone.

Hey, just finished my workout. On the way up. You need anything?

Shit! She had to get out of here! There hadn’t been nearly enough time to dye her hair! Fortunately, she was still wearing the skirt, tube top, and platform heels she’d made with Master PC. She grabbed her purse, ran out of the apartment, and ducked into the emergency stairwell. It was 12 stories down their apartment building, but she couldn’t risk running into Richard on the elevators. She navigated her way down the stairs as best she could in her ridiculous heels.

On the way down, she passed a man taking the stairs up. He stopped in his tracks as she walked by. Her skirt was so short, she was pretty sure he’d gotten a glance at her pussy. The thought turned her on.

As soon as she got out of the building, she sent Daddy a text back.

I left to grab some new outfits and some other stuff. Be back a little later with a surprise 💖

She left her apartment building behind, heading deeper into downtown. There were some nice clothing boutiques just a few blocks away, so she decided to walk. She wanted to get out, for people to see the new her.

The air was already turning warm, and Candice felt the breeze on her exposed skin, a stark contrast to the frumpy clothes she usually wore. Each click of her platform heels against the pavement felt like a punctuation mark in her transformation. She swung her hips a little more, her outfit and figure drawing gazes. This was what she wanted: to be seen, to be admired, to embrace the attention that her new persona seemed to effortlessly command.

To Candice, everything seemed to hum with an almost palpable sexual electricity, a vibrant current that made her skin tingle. Every gaze from a passerby, every quick double-take, felt like a caress, igniting a slow burn within her. She caught the eye of a man in a crisp suit, his expression subtly shifting from professional detachment to concealed admiration.

Driven by a sudden curiosity, Candice opened her mind, focusing her new power outward, letting the thoughts and feelings of the men around her wash over her. The effect was immediate and almost overwhelming. A wave of raw, unfiltered arousal crashed into her, a chorus of desires and fantasies. She felt their eyes tracing her curves, their minds conjuring scenarios she hadn’t even consciously considered. It wasn’t just admiration; it was a potent, collective hum of sexual energy. She was a beacon, drawing them in, and the sheer volume of their desire made her own arousal swell. She felt herself getting horny in return and had to shut the door to her mind. Still, the sensation lingered with her and the feeling of being watched was delicious.

She felt bubbly, airy. On a whim, she whipped out her phone and took a selfie of herself. She hadn’t used Instagram in a while, but wasn’t that what girls like her did? She posted it with the caption “Feeling cute today.”

The next few hours were a blur of boutiques and thrift stores. Shopping for casual wear was easy. She found a few crop tops, denim short-shorts and whatever slutty clothes she thought Richard would love while she waited for the clothes she’d bought online to be delivered.

Shopping for work, however, was a whole different story. Since she’d dropped all the weight, most of her office clothes didn’t really fit anymore. Candice tried to find a mix of professional and “sexy,” with an emphasis on “professional.” She wasn’t going to be one of those characters in the stories who end up wearing micro-skirts to the office. She was still looking to get that promotion, and she knew she needed to look snappy and smart. Still, being attractive never hurt anyone’s career advancement, so she made sure the outfits looked good. She found a pencil skirt that hugged her hips just right and a few blouses with necklines a little lower than she’d have considered wearing to the office before, but nothing too crazy.

Her next stop was an “intimates” store. She bought a few sexy bits of lingerie — some red panties and the like, but frilly stuff wasn’t really her style. She mostly wanted to get some new toys. All she had at home was a lonely bullet vibrator. She picked out a variety of new gadgets. Several dildos of various sizes. Some that vibrated, others that didn’t. Lastly, she grabbed a vibrator that was meant to be worn underneath your clothes that could be remote-controlled. The idea of Daddy using it, making it vibrate away inside her while they were out in public somewhere made her wet instantly. On a whim, she added a set of delicate, silver nipple clamps to her basket, imagining the exquisite sensation of Richard tugging on them.

After putting over a grand on her credit card between the clothes and toys, she decided to head home. She couldn’t wait to show Daddy what she’d bought.

On the way back, she passed a nail salon and looked at her own hands. She had made her nails stronger and glossier with Master PC, but she felt someone with her look would have more going on. On a whim, she stepped inside.

The interior was bright and airy, with soft lighting and the sweet, slightly acrid scent of polish in the air. Several women were seated in comfortable, plush chairs, their hands or feet soaking in bubbling basins. Soft jazz played from unseen speakers, creating a relaxing ambiance. A wall of colorful polish bottles shimmered under the lights, offering a dizzying array of choices. This really wasn’t Candice’s normal thing. She usually just painted her nails at home, and really only for special occasions. She hesitated at the door until one of the girls working there saw her and walked to the counter.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

“Uh, no,” Candice answered.

The girl frowned and scrolled through her appointments on her computer. She was young, maybe mid-20s, but looked very tired considering it wasn’t even noon yet. She wore a plain black t-shirt, and had faded blue hair, the black roots showing prominently. A nose ring pierced her septum, and she had a little butterfly tattoo on her neck. Her short nails were a dark, shiny black.

Candice decided to try the mind reading power again. It had felt overwhelming earlier, when she’d thrown the door open and felt the lust of all those men on the street. This time she was more careful. She could feel the power there, like a new muscle she could move if she willed it. She gave it an experimental flex, stretching it out toward the girl.

Candice felt the girl’s disdain for her “basic blonde” look, a hint of judgment for her revealing outfit, but an even stronger envy for Candice’s perfect figure and an undercurrent of attraction. Candice didn’t hear words, exactly, but somehow knew the girl was considering if she wanted to give Candice her open 2:00 slot or just use that time to take a break.

“GIVE ME THE NEXT SLOT,” Candice told her using the Command Voice. “BUMP EVERYONE ELSE BACK.”

“Yeah, I think I can fit you in,” the girl said with the slightly dazed expression she’d become familiar with when she hit someone with the Voice. “What do you want done?”

“I don’t really know. I was thinking long acrylic nails and probably something for my feet too.”

“Sure,” the girl said. “I’m just finishing up with my current customer now. You’re next.”

Ten minutes later, Candice was being settled into a plush chair.

“I’m River,” the blue-haired girl said, “and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

“Nice to meet you, River,” Candice replied. “I’m…” Candice hesitated a moment. “I’m Candy,” she finished. Why not try out the new name, she thought. Just going by her “slut name” made her a little horny. Candice could see her own nipples, a little hard beneath her thin tube top. River could see them too, and Candice caught her taking more than a few glances as she began to examine Candice’s feet.

“So what brings you in today?” River said, making small talk.

“Well, I’ve actually been losing weight and trying out a new look to go along with it. To be honest, I’ve never actually had a pedicure, and the last time I had my nails done was senior prom.”

River raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her expression. “Really? Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? You’re doing great, though. The new look definitely suits you.”

River started by soaking her feet in some sort of blue liquid while she began work on her nails.

Candice watched River’s hands as she meticulously filed and buffed. The woman was good, very precise. It wasn’t really something she needed to go to a salon for, of course. Using Master PC, Candice could have just given herself perfect nails. But there was something satisfying about the tactile experience, the pampering. It felt more real, somehow, when it was done by another person.

“Alright, Candy, what kind of shape and length are you thinking?” River pulled out a tray of colorful acrylic powders and a box of various nail tips.

Candice leaned forward, examining the options. “White. Pure white. And I want them really long. And I’m thinking sharp, pointy on the end.”

River nodded. “Long and sharp it is.” She began the meticulous process, applying the tips and then building up the acrylic. Candice watched, fascinated, as her short, practical nails transformed into slender, sharply edged talons. They were completely impractical, she knew. She’d probably struggle to type on her laptop, and simple tasks like buttoning a shirt or opening a can of soda would become a hilarious challenge. But that was precisely the point.

These nails felt incredibly feminine, almost impossibly so. They were a clear signal that she was embracing a side of herself that had been dormant for too long—the playful, slightly over-the-top, unapologetically girly side. She imagined trying to pick up a dropped coin with them, or fumbling with her car keys. It made her smile. She’d have to rely on Richard for little things now, leaning into his help. And she knew, with a certainty that hummed through her new slutty self, that he would absolutely love it.

As River worked on her nails, Candice kept hearing her phone buzz. Finally, she pulled it out and checked what all the notifications were. Her Instagram was blowing up. The selfie she’d posted earlier had more likes and comments than anything she’d ever posted. She checked the comments. The top one was from her best friend Mia.

lol what did you use to make this?

Candice was vaguely annoyed. Mia thought it was a joke post. In fact, several of her friends seemed to think she was making fun of Instagram influencers with an AI image of herself. Well, that was a kind of compliment, she figured, if they thought she was so pretty she must be AI. A bunch of guys she’d never met had also left comments, and she had several dick pics in her DMs. A couple of them were actually pretty hot.

Candice turned her attention back to River, who was applying the final clear top coat, her movements fluid and precise. The nails shimmered under the salon lights.

Then she began to work on her feet. They continued making small talk, with Candice reading River’s mind as she went. It was fun, experimenting with this new power. She couldn’t really delve into River’s psyche and pull up her deep thoughts or anything, just read surface-level emotions and impressions. But she did detect a current of depression in the girl. It was striking. On the surface, River was friendly and bright, but Candice could tell it was a thin facade she wore with a practiced ease.

“I like your nails,” Candice said. “The black isn’t my style, but they really suit you.”

“Thanks. Yeah, they’re pretty much my default. Easy to maintain.”

“Do you ever make them more elaborate?”

River chuckled, not looking up from Candice’s foot. “Not as often as I’d like. It’s the Cobbler’s Children Syndrome, right? I’m so busy making everyone else look good, I neglect myself. When I do nails for eight hours a day, I just don’t feel like doing it for myself when I get home.”

Candice read her thoughts as she talked, and she felt like River didn’t really like “home.” She sensed a messy apartment, a boyfriend she was going through the motions with. And a sense of resignation to it all. Candice could almost see it, the feeling was so clear.

“Does your boyfriend like them that way?” Candice asked.

River frowned. “He doesn’t really care, to be honest.”

“Ah, boy trouble,” Candice said. “I knew it!”

“Is it that obvious?” River grimaced for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with a joking smile. A “you know how it is, between us girls” kind of look. She didn’t want to show how she was really feeling in front of a customer.

“Not too obvious, I’m just very… perceptive,” Candice answered. “The wrinkled clothes, the faded hair dye. You don’t look like you have someone to impress at home.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have to, right? If I’m in a relationship, the guy should be comfortable with the real me.”

“Oh, River,” Candice said. “No! I used to think that way, but being in a relationship means trying to be the best person you can be for your partner!”

“I guess,” River said, not wanting to argue with a customer.

“Look at you,” Candice continued, “You’re beautiful, River. You have great style, even if it’s not mine. But you’re settling. You’re letting yourself fade out when you should be shining! Or smoldering. Or whatever the right superlative is for your style!”

River laughed, genuinely, as Candice continued.

“Why are you wearing a plain black t-shirt when you could be showing off that cute figure? Why let your roots show? You know how to make people look amazing. Why aren’t you applying that effort to yourself, for the person who supposedly loves you? Or for yourself?” Candice heard her own voice ring with a conviction she hadn’t known she possessed. But she knew she was right. She thought about how she and Richard’s relationship had also been stuck in a rut recently. She thought about how great things had been for the past week, and especially last night. Candice knew now that true happiness in a relationship came when you made yourself into what your partner wanted. She thought about Daddy, how she couldn’t wait to get home and kneel in front of him. River needed that in her life.

River pulled her hands out of the water, resting them on the side of the basin, her earlier joking expression completely gone. Her eyes met Candice’s, a mix of hurt and defensiveness flashing in them. “It’s not that simple, Candy. I’m exhausted. I work hard—”

“I had the same excuses,” Candice cut in, her tone hardening. She leaned closer, projecting the Command Voice at the tired girl. “YOU ARE GOING TO START TRYING HARDER. YOU ARE GOING TO EMBRACE YOUR FEMININITY AND YOU ARE GOING TO BE SEXY. REFRESH YOUR HAIR DYE AND LEAN INTO THE ALT-GIRL LOOK. GET SOME CUTE OUTFITS.”

The words struck River with physical force. Her eyes glazed over for a moment, her breath hitching. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, full of newfound resolve. “You’re right. I... I have been letting myself go. I know I’m capable of more.”

“Good girl,” Candice said.

“Now I just need my boyfriend to start trying too,” River joked as she went back to work on massaging and exfoliating Candice’s feet.

But Candice knew it wasn’t a joke. Well, she could fix that too. She could tweak the boyfriend, make their relationship better the same way she’d changed Richard.

It was exactly the kind of thing Candice had initially told herself she wouldn’t do: make changes to other people without their consent or knowledge. At first, she’d made some little changes to Richard, things she knew he’d want. She’d told herself that was different because she knew him so well, knew what he’d say yes to if only she asked. But those changes had gotten bigger without her really realizing it, hadn’t they? She’d kept ratcheting up his self-confidence until his demeanor had changed, and his sexuality was certainly much higher than it was in the beginning.

But those had worked out, hadn’t they? And how unethical could it really be to help people? Help them be better? In fact, if she could change someone else for the better, didn’t she have the responsibility to do that? Wasn’t that what they always said in the Spider-Man movies? With great power comes the responsibility to use it, or something like that? Considering she basically had super-powers now, shouldn’t she be helping people as much as she could?

“Do me a favor,” Candice said. “Picture your ideal partner and tell me what you see.”

“I don’t know…” River began.

“TRUST ME,” Candice said. “I’m a relationship expert.”

“Alright,” the nail tech said.

Candice focused, reaching out with her mind, zeroing in on the visualization River was attempting to form. Candice couldn’t see it herself, but she got impressions from River’s mind. It was a kaleidoscope of traits: strong hands, an understanding gaze, a powerful but kind demeanor. But then, something wavered, and for a moment it felt like River was picturing a woman. Soft, curvy, alluring. It was an intense jolt of pure, hot curiosity. The impression was clear: River was bisexual, or at least intensely bi-curious, and had clearly never acted on it.

Candice forgot about changing the boyfriend. This was much more interesting. A smile spread across her lips. “Tell me about them,” she prompted, her voice a low, throaty purr.

River’s hands paused their kneading for a brief second before continuing. “Uh, well… I guess they’re someone who sees the real me, you know? Someone who isn’t afraid of a little excitement.” Her eyes flicked up to Candice’s face, then quickly back to the foot in her hands. The mental current Candice detected was now a blend of anxiety and attraction.

And Candice realized that, for a moment, it had been herself that River was picturing. Candice felt her own body respond, just as it had earlier on the street when she’d felt the men admire her. Her nipples hardened, her breathing deepened. She was feeling River’s attraction, and her own body was responding to it as if it were her own.

She took a calming breath, trying to compartmentalize the flood of feeling. This was not part of the plan. She’d already masturbated in Richard’s bed this morning precisely to drain off the excess sexual energy. It had worked then, but the effect was clearly wearing off, or perhaps the intensity of River’s desire was just too strong to be fully blocked.

Focus, Candice, she commanded herself. You are not bisexual. You are not a lesbian. These aren’t even your feelings, these are River’s feelings. But the rationalizations felt thin and hollow against the sudden, overwhelming swell of lust. River was right there—her hands working on Candice’s foot, her faded blue hair falling forward, the subtle scent of polish and warm skin. It was so hard to think, now that she was aroused.

All these thoughts passed in just a few moments as Candice stared at River, the nail tech still massaging her feet. What was the last thing River had said? Right, something about how she was looking for more excitement in life.

“Excitement is good,” Candice mused. “But sometimes, ‘excitement’ looks a lot different than you thought it would.” She let the silence hang, watching River’s cheeks flush. This was so easy, she realized. With a body like hers, she didn’t even need the Command Voice to get what she wanted. “You’ve never been with a woman before, have you, River?” she said in a low whisper.

“I... I don’t know what you mean,” River stammered, her gaze glued to Candice’s foot. The denial was flimsy, and Candice could feel the mental panic: How does she know?

“I mean what I said,” Candice replied, her tone firm and calm, hiding the roiling emotions underneath. “I told you, I’m a relationship expert. And what I see is someone who’s hiding from themselves. You have a fantasy, and you’ve been living a lie to avoid it.” Candice hadn’t meant to say it quite so bluntly, she felt like she was losing control of the situation.

River snatched her hands back from Candice’s foot as if it had suddenly become electrified. She stared up, her blue hair contrasting sharply with her pale, bewildered face. The faint jazz music seemed to stop, or maybe Candice’s mind had simply filtered it out. The air in the nail salon, which had been bright and relaxed, now felt thick with tension.

“That’s... that’s inappropriate,” River whispered, her eyes darting quickly to the other customers in the salon, none of whom seemed to be paying attention.

Candice knew she was right, it was very inappropriate. But her mind was still linked to River’s, receiving the continuous feedback of attraction. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing someone utterly captivated by you—not just by the idea of you, but by the physical reality of your body, your nipples pushing against the fabric, your short skirt, the sheer power you radiated. And the feeling in response was a profound, shocking affirmation: Yes. I am beautiful. I am desired. And I want to experience that desire, to be desired by this woman. Her hips shifted in the plush chair, her legs parted by a hair more, just enough to be suggestive. She was falling, fast, into the abyss of her own amplified urges, dragged down by the mirrored desire of the woman at her feet.

She felt her mind unspooling as the arousal built. She’d done that to herself too. Candy became dumber the more she was aroused. Her rational mind, the part that once held anxieties about Richard and fidelity, was dissolving. I am a slut now, she thought, the realization ringing with an undeniable truth. This is who I chose to be. And a slut should act like one. The thought wasn’t a question, but a fundamental fact.

And if she was going to practice her new role, what better way than with River? It was a low-stakes encounter, a harmless exploration. Being with a woman wouldn’t really count as cheating on Richard, would it? Not like Kevin at all. It was practice, research, something she could bring back to Richard. He’d love it if I brought River — or someone like her — home, wouldn’t he? Doesn’t every guy dream of a threesome? She made a decision.

Candy smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips. She didn’t retract her feet from the basin; instead, she leaned back, pushing up her breasts and widening her legs, giving River an even better view of her body. “Why is it inappropriate, River? Is it inappropriate to point out the truth you’ve been avoiding? She held River’s gaze, and let the voice loose again. “YOU WANT THIS.”

River swallowed hard, the denial crumbling under the weight of the compulsion and Candice’s unsettling confidence. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“I think we need to finish this conversation somewhere a little more private,” Candice said, her voice dropping to a seductive conspiratorial whisper. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

River blinked, the fog of the Command Voice lifting slightly, but leaving behind a potent, compelling need to obey. She glanced around the salon one more time. “We… we have a private room,” she managed, her breath catching. “It’s for waxing. Nobody has it booked.”

“Perfect,” Candy said, pulling her feet out of the basin and grabbing a towel.

River led her quickly, almost desperately, to the waxing room. The room was comforting and luxurious, with rich mahogany paneling, a plush velvet-covered treatment bed, and soft, indirect lighting that highlighted a small, ornate water feature. The space featured a single chair for nails and pedicures, as well as a table for waxing.

River shut the door behind them, the soft thud absorbing all noise. She leaned against the door, her chest heaving slightly.

“What… what are we doing here?” River asked, though her eyes were already fixed on Candice’s body.

Candy took two steps forward, closing the distance between them. “We’re making your fantasy real, River,” she murmured, her 60-point slut energy flooding the small space. She put a hand on River’s faded blue hair. River was a little taller than Candice, but somehow the blue-haired nail technician looked small and compliant next to the blonde.

Candy felt a rush of pleasure from it. Odd, a small part of her thought. She’d made herself submissive. But here she was pushing River around, and loving the feeling. She ran a perfectly sculpted nail down River’s cheek, tilting the girl’s head down to meet her gaze. “First, I want you to tell me what you want to do to me.”

River’s eyes were wide, a dark swirl of confusion and raw, unadulterated desire. The Command Voice had done its work, short-circuiting her inhibitions, but Candice’s sheer physical presence and the promise of forbidden pleasure were sealing the deal. “I… I want to please you,” River whispered, the words barely audible. “I want to kiss you. Everywhere.”

“Good girl,” Candy purred. She let go of River’s face and walked toward the plush nail chair that was set up near the waxing table. It was a large, comfortable leather recliner, perfect for a long session. She perched on the edge, the short skirt hiking up her thighs.

“Come here,” Candy commanded, pointing to the floor between her open legs.

River moved instantly, dropping to her knees on the soft, thick rug. Her hands hovered, unsure, near Candice’s exposed thighs. She looked up, her expression pleading and subservient.

“Take it off,” Candy instructed, gesturing to her skirt.

River’s fingers trembled as she reached for the hem of the short skirt. She tugged it down slowly, reverently, exposing Candy’s glistening pussy. River’s breath hitched. She reached a trembling hand to part the lips with an almost painful care. Candice was already slick, her arousal manifesting immediately at the sight of River’s face hovering so close to her core.

River looked up one last time, her eyes dark with a mix of fear and excitement. Candice just smiled, her eyes telling the girl everything she needed to know. River dipped her head, finally, and the small, quiet room was filled only with the soft, wet sounds of a woman finally tasting her desire.

Candy closed her eyes, a gasp escaping her lips. River’s tongue was hesitant at first, a shy exploration of the engorged clitoris, the slick folds of her labia. Candy gripped the arms of the chair, her back arching instinctively, pushing her hips forward, a mute plea for more. River understood the command, and her technique sharpened. The shyness evaporated, replaced by a focused, urgent hunger. She moved with an unpracticed but urgent rhythm, her mouth an encompassing heat that blotted out everything else.

The pleasure was immediate and profound, amplified by the connection to River’s mind. Candice felt every drop of the girl’s admiration, every surge of her own mounting excitement, all folding in on itself until there was only the searing, white-hot point of sensation. The walls of the waxing room seemed to melt away, the air growing thick and heavy. This was better than the bullet vibrator, better than the afterglow in Richard’s bed. This was pure, unadulterated, female-on-female lust, and it was glorious.

River continued her work, a low, guttural moan rumbling in her throat as she tasted Candice’s desire.

As her arousal intensified, Candice’s thoughts dissolved, and her mind went feral. Her higher functions were replaced by a desperate, guttural sound—a wordless demand for more. Tearing off her tube top, she exposed her engorged breasts and clumsily began kneading her nipples, seeking further stimulation. River responded by working faster and deeper, the relentless pressure on Candice’s clitoris becoming inescapable. A final, seismic wave hit, triggering a primal scream. Her body convulsed, hips slamming down as the orgasm wiped away the rational “Candice,” leaving only the trembling “Candy.” She finally collapsed, breathless, finding herself slack in the chair as the room swam back into focus, with River still kneeling, her cheek glistening with Candy’s juices.

“Oh my god,” Candy gasped, her voice still shaky. “You... you were perfect.”

River climbed slowly to her feet, her gaze never leaving Candy’s. She was trembling slightly, a beautiful mess of professional composure utterly broken. “I’ve never... I didn’t know,” she whispered, her voice husky. She reached out a hesitant hand, tracing the curve of Candy’s thigh where the short skirt had ridden up.

Candy caught the hand, pulling River closer until the nail tech was kneeling again, but this time resting her forearms on the edge of the seat, their faces inches apart, and kissed her deeply, their tongues intertwining. Finally, Candy broke the kiss. “I told you, you just needed a little push. You have so much more fun inside you, River.”

Candy’s mind was a mix of urges. She was turned on, wanting more of River. At the same time, she was feeling submissive, ready to serve. The “when aroused” submissiveness she had set with Master PC was really kicking in. Candice wanted, desperately, for River to tell her what to do, but the blue-haired girl was obviously waiting on Candy to make the next move. At the same time, she felt the subservience from River. Sluggishly, Candy’s sex-dulled brain realized why she’d been so take-charge. Candy wanted to feel submissive, but she did feel that, through River.

It was one of those oxy-thingies. Whatever it’s called when something and its opposite are true at the same time. Right now, as she surfed on River’s emotions, she could feel the rush of submission while being the one giving orders. It felt amazing.

“Oh my God, River,” Candy purred, her eyes shining with possessive heat. She reached out and traced the line of River’s collarbone. “I want to see all of you now. Take off your clothes.”

River’s breathing hitched, but she didn’t hesitate. The black t-shirt and jeans came off instantly, tossed carelessly onto the plush carpet along with the simple, functional panties and sports bra she wore underneath. Her skin was pale, a stark contrast to the faded blue of her hair. Her arms were slender, and running down the side of one arm was a delicate line of tiny, black ink tattoos—a constellation of stars and moons.

River didn’t have Candy’s perfect, Master PC-sculpted body, of course. Her breasts were smaller, her hips narrower. Nevertheless, there was a raw, captivating vulnerability about her that Candy found intensely alluring. She was an alt-girl beauty, unpolished and real, and in her naked state, the subservience in her gaze was even more potent.

“You’re beautiful, River,” Candy said, the sincerity in her voice surprising even herself. She rose from the chair, completely naked as well, and stepped forward, running her hands slowly over River’s shoulders, down her back, tracing the delicate ridges of her spine. “Now, I want you to do something for me. Lie down on the table,” she commanded, pointing to the plush velvet waxing bed.

River moved without question, climbing onto the high treatment table and settling onto her back. The soft, indirect lighting cast long shadows, making her pale skin glow.

Candy went to her purse and quickly found what she was looking for: a long black dildo with a vibrating base, something she’d bought just a few hours before with the idea of using it on herself. But this seemed so much more fun.

She pulled a small tube of lubricant from her bag and squeezed a generous amount onto the dildo, then held the vibrating toy up for River to see. River’s eyes widened, a flicker of pure anticipation overriding any lingering shyness.

Candy smiled. “You’re going to enjoy this for me,” she said.

Candy mounted the table, straddling River’s hips. She felt River’s awe, her pure arousal, as she looked up at the goddess above her. With her free hand, Candy gently parted River’s folds, feeling the warm, inviting interior, careful not to put her sharp nails inside. With her other hand, she pressed the dildo, dark and glistening, against River’s wet entrance.

As she did, she let her mind fully open to River’s experience. The connection was sharper now, more intense than before. River’s internal world exploded into Candy’s consciousness: a dizzying mix of shame, exhilaration, and surrender.

She is so beautiful. She is in charge. I want her to do anything she wants to me. The thoughts weren’t just observed; they were felt. Candy’s own nipples tightened in response to River’s mental fixation on them; her pussy throbbed with the raw, desperate heat of River’s own pussy.

Candy pushed the dildo in, just a bit. River gasped, the sound ragged and raw. Candy felt it too, the invasion as a pleasure spiking deep inside herself, a shockwave of fulfillment that seemed to bypass her physical body and resonate directly with her amplified sexual self. She felt the stretch, the pressure, the forbidden thrill of River’s violation. It was the purest form of submission, and Candy internalized it, feeling the exquisite, contradictory joy of being both the dominant wielder of power and the ecstatic recipient of the pleasure.

River began to move, bucking her hips against it. Candy responded in kind, pushing the dildo deeper and deeper with each buck of the girl’s hips. For the first time, she heard the words in River’s head, not just the feelings. Faster. Harder. Take me. Don’t stop.

Candy obeyed the silent commands, accelerating her pace, thrusting deep and pulling back with a rhythm that was purely instinctual. The connection between them was so complete that every nerve ending in River’s body seemed to be firing into Candy’s brain. Candy was no longer riding a toy; she was riding River’s orgasm, guiding it, feeding it, consuming it whole.

Candy’s thoughts began to ablate away under the heat and pressure of River’s approaching orgasm, just as they had this morning when she’d cum with the vibrator. Her brain was so empty now, and River’s mind rushed in, taking up all the space. Candy looked up at the beautiful woman above her, the perfect goddess satisfying a desire she’d always had but never admitted even to herself. No, that wasn’t right. She was the one on top, wasn’t she?

No, she only wished she was as perfect as the woman above her with the golden hair and stunning face. Her lips were parted, her face somehow both at once vacant and full of lust. River could feel the hard, thick length of the toy inside her, pushing, stretching, filling her with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

It felt wrong, so wrong. I’m cheating on Liam. I’m cheating on my boyfriend with a customer I just met! With a woman! In the waxing room! The rational part of River’s mind screamed the accusations, a thin, frantic voice struggling against the roar of sensation. Shame was a cold, sharp knife, but it couldn’t cut through the hot all-encompassing need. She was lost under this perfect blonde woman, this goddess who had seen her and told her the truth about herself. Trust me. I’m a relationship expert. Candy’s words echoed, blurring the line between instruction and pleasure. You are going to embrace your femininity and you are going to be sexy. Yes. This was her embracing it. You want this. This dizzying surrender to a woman who demanded her pleasure was the “more” she was capable of, the excitement she craved. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing her hips up, the internal mantra taking over: Be sexy. Trust her. I want this. Be sexy. Trust Candy.

River came. Candy came. It was the same thing.