Hayley was still feeling kind of out of it, still seated on the floor of her shower, body warm and slick from the spray, when Loni at last came to fetch her - or at least to see what was happening and where she’d got to. Looking up to see her guest standing awkwardly over her naked form, Hayley blushed as crimson as her hair.

Loni leaned into the shower cubicle from the threshold, braving the jets against her outfit, and found the tap to shut off the flow. She reached down to Hayley, holding out her hand, and in a blissed-out stupor, Hayley took it, let herself be drawn to her feet.

Loni picked up a towel and moved to start drying Hayley off. She paused before making contact, visibly thinking, tutted. The towel was set down again and Loni reached behind herself, finding the zip on her dress. She stepped out of the dress and set it aside and, now secure that it wouldn’t get completely waterlogged, she picked up the towel again.

Standing on shaky legs, Hayley didn’t move to help or object as the platinum blonde briskly and efficiently dried her. There was none of the expressionless, almost faceless impersonality she displayed during her working week; Loni looked intent on her work, but the light in her eyes showed how deeply engaged in it she was.

Her body mostly dry, Hayley found herself guided over to her bed and perched down on the edge, where Loni went efficiently about drying, brushing, and styling Hayley’s hair. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Hayley saw her face seem to change as the placement of her hair around it changed, and with each change she felt a little more like herself, a little more restored from the frenzy of masturbation that had come upon her.

There was nonetheless a strange but pleasant aura of sleepy satisfaction hanging around her as Loni handed her, first a lavender suspender belt Hayley did not own but which Loni had clearly sourced and pastel green stockings to go with it, then lavender bra and panties to accompany the outfit, and lastly the green gown Hayley had bought in a moment of pride and excitement and only worn two or three times, awkward and uncomfortable as she was about the thigh slit and the deep, deep V of the neckline.

Loni perched beside her on the bed. “Close your eyes,” she said softly and, feeling somehow submissive and biddable, Hayley did so, composing her features in calm. The blonde tended to her makeup without any input from its wearer, except to respond to the occasional soft instruction.

When she opened her eyes under a somehow-elegant pile of blonde-tipped red hair, Hayley saw an elegant woman with dark red lips edged with a deep purple, delicate green eyeshadow, and long, fake eyelashes which, depending on the angle she held her head, looked either naive, innocent and tempting or experienced, confident, and seductive. She certainly knew that good makeup had elements of a magic trick to it, but if she was a perfectly competent card trickster capable of handling a kid’s birthday party, Loni was apparently in competition with Dr Strange.

Then Loni produced a pair of heels. Though they were also Hayley’s, they didn’t match the gown; they were, however, the tallest pair she had, and this was clearly what had inspired Loni to choose them. Whoever this date was with, it was someone who liked their women to walk tall.

Loni helped Hayley into them, but the redhead walked downstairs and out to the car on her own. It only occurred to her once she was in the car that her home was unlocked, her purse left behind; she was entirely in the hands of Loni minding her house and whoever was waiting for her at the other end. And yet, somehow, this didn’t make her nervous at all; she found she had total, trusting faith in Miss Britney’s people, just as she did in Miss Britney.

Pam was driving the car. She was still wearing a version of what she wore to work every day - impeccably tasteful, perfectly suited to the workplace, and yet maybe just hugging her figure a little too much not to distract anyone else - but a chauffeuse’s cap had been added to the ensemble, a peaked blue affair with a shiny black brim.

Pam followed every rule of the road, even the ones no driver who’s passed their test ever bothers with. Her turns were precise and, Hayley couldn’t help but notice, almost identical every single time. It was like she was part of the vehicle - and like she was just as mechanical and precise as the car itself. But just riding in the back of a sleek car, the rear windows tinted so nobody could see her, with a chauffeuse guiding the vehicle, dressed in her most fearsomely aspirational outfit…

The reality of becoming her own boss had not been nearly as positive as Hayley had hoped, and the idea that just by starting her own company she would develop a glamour in the eyes of others was already gone. Being given this kind of celebrity treatment felt really good, underlining what possibilities there still were for someone in her position.

She wasn’t really sure where she was going but, if she’d been asked for a guess, she’d have said it would be some upmarket bar with food, or perhaps a restaurant. She was surprised when the car drew up outside a largish suburban home.

Pam got out first and opened the door for her, and Hayley felt herself blush slightly. Getting out of the car she could practically feel the eyes of the neighbourhood upon her, even if she couldn’t see anyone watching.

Whoever’s home this was, they had to be doing pretty well for themselves, she thought. It wasn’t exactly a mansion, but it also wasn’t the kind of place most families could expect to ever own. The garden was immaculate, too, and the exterior clearly had been repainted not very long before.

The woman who opened the door was a slender blonde, so slender that those not inclined to kindness might call her skinny, and she was dressed very formally; a crisp white shirt buttoned to the top, a black bow tie beneath it, and a soft black velvet evening jacket. Her hair was gathered back into a tight bun, her makeup applied with the lightest of touches, her expression not so much empty as a controlled absence.

“So good to see you, Ms. Byrne,” she said. Her accent was an obvious put-on; British as spoken by a New Yorker. Downtown Abbey, Hayley thought to herself, then immediately felt bad for the mockery even if it was only internal. “If you’d be so good as to follow me?”

Over the last few weeks Hayley had learned there were few things she wanted so much as just simply to be good. She smiled and followed this - butler? Butless? - walking with the same swift, steady pace. The woman in front was crossing her feet with each step, which drew Hayley’s gaze down to her legs.

Not only was the evening jacket actually a tailcoat but what Hayley had assumed without close inspection to be pants were actually long black leggings atop black high heels with red underarches. The whole thing was so absurd an outfit to wear without intending to titillate that its purpose was immediately obvious. Hayley found herself thinking back to her interactions with Miss Britney and her people; how effortlessly erotic the most simple things had become once (as she had later learned) hypnosis became part of the mix.

“Ms Hayley Byrne,” the woman said as she stepped into another room from the corridor, then sidestepped to allow Hayley to enter. She stopped dead at the threshold, staring at her host. Or, rather, hostess. Then she laughed.

“I suppose I should have seen this coming?” Hayley asked of Miss Britney.

“To the contrary.” Britney did seem intensely amused. “You’ve barely even wondered who you might be going for a date with, have you?”

“That’s true,” she admitted, very much to her own startlement and surprise. Then the penny dropped. “You didn’t allow me to.”

“Correct.”

Miss Britney was beaming, and Hayley was lost in that smile, squirmy and excited and aroused and eager and pleased all at once, and when the woman beside her coughed politely and said “Let me take your gown, ma’am,” Hayley had already reached behind herself for the zip before she even thought about it.

“Thank you, Stephanie,” Miss Britney said as the servant moved behind Hayley, took over the operation of the zip, and guided the gown down from Hayley’s shoulders, holding it delicately as Hayley stepped out. She folded the gown over her arm and disappeared from the room as silently and near-invisibly as a maid in an old novel, holding herself to a standard actual working humans never did.

Hayley was standing atop her tallest heels wearing lingerie and stockings either picked out for her by Loni or dictated by Miss Britney, feeling the cool draft from the partially-open window at the other end of the room, and glad her concealer hid at least some of her blushes. She felt the warmth of her embarrassment everywhere, and then noticed how it was all sinking down to come to rest in a ball of heat and squirmy excitement between her hips.

Miss Britney rose from her chair with a smirk, the high hemline of her own blue dress showing off long legs, and Hayley found herself suddenly small and submissive and very, very bewilderedly glad she was there. She watched the other woman practically swagger toward her, standing very close in front of Hayley, her eyes boring into Hayley’s.

They talked in stories about rabbits being caught in the eyes of snakes, unable to look away. That was how Hayley felt, but she’d never seen a story that dared to imagine the rabbit would be so happy, so turned on, so excited to be captured.

“Hmmm.”

Miss Britney’s expression hadn’t changed, and Hayley would almost believe she hadn’t heard the sound. But whether she’d heard it or imagined it, it echoed around her head. She was being studied, scrutinised, and as the cool breeze continued to brush her skin, she realised with sudden embarrassment that the thin bra cups were showing as much as they concealed, her nipples hard and prominent through the fabric.

Stephanie had returned to the room without Hayley noticing. Now, as Miss Britney’s eyes broke contact with her own and she collected a glass of white wine, she saw Stephanie standing there, holding a metal tray on which two glasses had perched. Now only one remained, presumably Hayley’s own. Nobody had told her to remain still, nobody had told her not to take the drink, but Hayley did not move. She didn’t want to break the magical moment in which she found herself.

Wineglass in hand, Miss Britney made a slow circuit around Hayley. As she stepped out of Hayley’s sight, she reached out, and Hayley jumped as she felt Miss Britney’s fingertips touch her hip. The reaction was instant, an electric jolt of excitement and anticipation.

Miss Britney’s fingers didn’t leave Hayley’s body until she’d completed her circuit, standing back in front of her date. She took a sip of her wine with the other hand, looked directly into Hayley’s eyes, and said “Immediate thoughts, Stephanie?”

“Very good, Miss,” Stephanie said deferentially. Britney smiled into Hayley’s helpless eyes, and her fingertips traced a light, wide circle over Hayley’s crotch, prompting a muffled squeak of needy excitement from her target.

“Well, I’m not entirely convinced,” Britney purred. She moved a step closer and her fingertips traced a graceful arc down Hayley’s panties and under, flicking through suddenly parted thighs, which coaxed out another squeak, this one less muffled.

Hayley realised she was already wet. From the grin Miss Britney was giving her, she was fully aware too. Hayley knew she should be embarrassed but for all that her cheeks burned, she didn’t feel embarrassed. She felt good. Really good.

“You’ve been keeping up your workout,” she said, and while it wasn’t a question, Hayley felt that she had to answer the confidence in her tone.

“Yes, Miss Britney.” Her comment earned a smile. Britney’s fingers trailed up from her panties across her belly, and Hayley’s breath caught in helpless anticipation.

Fingertips teased her nipples through the thin cloth of the bra. Hayley tried to stop herself, but the sound that escaped her was indisputably a moan, the excitement even clearer than before. She saw Miss Britney bite her own lower lip to contain her reaction to that, but her hands didn’t stop, telling a truth more eloquent than the one her lips held back; her hands roamed over Hayley’s chest, probing, squeezing, stroking, teasing, exploring.

“Are you enjoying your date?” Miss Britney asked, eyes back in contact with Hayley’s. “I know it isn’t what you expected.” A grin and a wink. “It’s what I want, all the same.”

Hayley’s mouth was dry. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she nodded.

“Oh, so you want what I want?” Miss Britney teased. Hayley somehow found her voice.

“Yes, Miss Britney.”

“Well. We’ll get on very well, won’t we?” A wink. “You can take your drink now.”

Hayley found she could move again. Unsure if she was relieved or saddened, she turned to Stephanie who, she suddenly realised, had remained stationary - or perhaps shifted very slightly, but not enough to notice - and gingerly took the wineglass from the tray.

She drew a very deep gulp of the drink as Stephanie lowered the tray and folded it under one arm, at her side. “Dinner is ready,” she informed them, with that same actor-playing-a-butler attitude. “If you’d care to follow me?”

Hayley followed her, Britney’s hand occasionally reaching out to stroke or squeeze her ass.

*

They ate at a glass-topped table in a modern-looking living room, one which prominently displayed photographs of a beautiful young woman with dirty blonde hair, some of them looking like candid snaps of a student, some almost looking like promotional headshots for a businesswoman, all framed in the same way and apparently at the same time. Whoever this woman was, she was clearly important here. Perhaps…

“Your employer?” she asked, surprised that the question had escaped her lips without prompting.

Miss Britney paused by one of the photographs, smiling affectionately toward it. “Among many other things,” she said. “She’s actually upstairs at the moment.”

Hayley felt suddenly absurdly nervous. “She is?”

“One of the other things about Miss Taylor is that she’s my landlady.” Miss Britney went back to her food for a moment, eyes dipped demurely. Hayley sat for a moment watching her behaviour, lost in thought. Her thoughts seemed to be happening suddenly much faster, jumping from topic to topic, making connection after connection.

Hayley usually prided herself on her intelligence, but since meeting Miss Britney it had felt like she’d always been scrambling to catch up, always a few steps behind the conversation. Now, suddenly, she was starting to put the pieces together from asides Miss Britney had made, strange behaviours Hayley had noticed in others, even fragmentary ideas she’d picked up without knowing when or where - concepts, perhaps, which had been hypnotically implanted, or just mentioned while Hayley was in trance.

Wait. Not just strange behaviours in others. Here she was herself, more than half naked, sat across the dinner table from a woman she was on a date with who’d fondled and teased her already that evening. A woman with whom her relationship was, in theory, strictly business.

“You’ve had me hide things,” she said abruptly. “From myself, I mean. Right?”

“Right.” Miss Britney’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Go on…”

“Why…” She wasn’t sure how to ask. “Why have I gone along with that?”

“Why do you think?”

“I… really don’t know.” She was surprised by how quiet her voice grew.

“Well, then,” Britney tried, “are you complaining?”

“Oh, no,” Hayley hastened to assure her. “This is lovely.” Then she thought about what she’d actually said. What was happening. How little she was wearing, and the contrast between that and Miss Britney’s elegant dress. The difference in power and authority this seemed to show.

She was a business owner. She’d always thought that would mean she never felt like she was weak, but in that moment she felt weak and small and delicate and she squirmed in her chair from the realisation alone. It turned out feeling weak was a good thing.

“Good.” Britney smiled, reaching across the table. Her hand was warm and soft over Hayley’s, holding on possessively. “It seems like we might just be fulfilling our contract, hm?”

“Definitely,” Hayley agreed, not even registering what Miss Britney had said, responding entirely to the flirty tone in which it had been delivered.

“Just not how you expected.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Miss Britney’s eyes, Hayley thought. There was something about them. Something she didn’t spend enough of her time thinking about. God, but they were wonderful.

Miss Britney smiled and shifted position on the chair, sitting now sideways on to the table, crossing her long legs under her dress where Hayley could see them. She patted her thigh and tilted her head invitingly. Without thinking about it, without questioning it, with no doubts anywhere in her mind Hayley rose and made the circuit around the table and sat, still almost naked, on the other woman’s thigh. Miss Britney’s hand rested in the small of her back, just above her garter belt, steadying her and providing her with a sense of delighted, wonderful, melting contentment.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Miss Britney told her. “As a client, you deserve everything we can do to make you feel good.” There was amusement in her eyes. “As a date… we both do.”

Her lips parted, Hayley’s breath caught just behind her teeth. This… this was too wonderful. “Yes,” she agreed. She was always so agreeable when Miss Britney was around.

Miss Britney moved her hand up from the small of Hayley’s back, coming to rest in a light but firm grip on the back of Hayley’s neck. She pulled the redhead into a kiss, and Hayley melted against her, the presence of Britney’s tongue against her teeth a thrill, her mouth opening to yield against her date, her… lover?

Hayley’s mind was haywire, running away with her eagerly. She didn’t even register Stephanie returning to the room, collecting their dishes. She was all over Miss Britney, wrapping around her, yielding to her hands, moaning and gasping with pleasure. It was a giddiness she hadn’t felt since she first fell in love, years ago; untainted, as all the others since had been, by the sour knowledge of how first love had ended. This was perfect; this was eternal; this would always be what she wanted.

“Why did you pick me?” she managed after what had been far longer distracted than she thought.

“You came to us,” Miss Britney replied.

“No. Not that… not my job. This. The date.”

“This is a date I can control,” Miss Britney told her. “It’s one I can make sure you enjoy. And…” She grinned. “It’s not like I’m not enjoying myself. You’re my type. One of my types,” she self-corrected, and Britney almost chased after that one but she was too flustered, too overjoyed, caught up replaying those words to herself. Perhaps they shouldn’t be as meaningful to her as they were, but no thought had the value she would have given it before all this. Everything was either less important or much more important, and she was in no control over which was which.

“And I hope we’ll be working together a lot longer…” Before saying that, Miss Britney had moved one of her hands down between Hayley’s thighs. Two of her fingers lightly stroked the outside of Hayley’s panties, seeming to revel in the wetness of the cloth between those fingers and their ultimate goal. Hayley was barely even listening, her head so fuzzy between the pleasure and the programming that by this point she would have agreed to anything, let alone something she’d come to desire.

Miss Britney kissed her again, and as she did her fingers pressed down outside Hayley’s panties, moving in a slow, firm circle. A bubble of bliss formed deep inside her, swelling and expanding until it filled her entire body. “Take off those panties,” Miss Britney ordered, and Hayley hurried to obey, slipping hastily from the other woman’s thigh to stand and work them down her form. She was suddenly very glad that Loni had made sure the panties went on over the garter belt, or she was until the idea of Miss Britney using that steak knife to cut the waistband of her panties in two places and pull it away started to fill her head…

She was still lost in that image when, two hands on her shoulders, Miss Britney guided Hayley down to her knees, standing in front of her. Her date was still wearing a dress, but the hemline was high, and when Hayley’s hands were placed on her date’s hips above the fabric, she found herself lifting the dress up automatically by its sides. She was not at all surprised to see revealed that Miss Britney had elected not to wear panties. Not at all surprised to feel her mouth suddenly wet with saliva.

Excitement filled her. She wanted nothing more than to accept the invitation those bare lips represented. But somehow she didn’t. Couldn’t. Didn’t and couldn’t even move.

Instead she waited. The only thing to do. The only thing she could even think to do.

That was natural, she was pretty sure. It was natural not to be able to act or even choose between actions. If people could just do that, how could you have an ordered hierarchy of power?

“Begin,” Miss Britney purred, and Hayley rocked forward on her knees, bracing her hands against those soft, supple thighs, and began.

*

Hayley opened her eyes into a new situation. For once, compared to all her recent displacements, she didn’t think it was because she’d lost time. She remembered all of the night before, and here she was in, if not her own bed, the bed she expected to be in, next to the person she expected to be there.

The door to the room being open was a surprise, though. As was the other woman who stood in the doorway.

Somehow Hayley had assumed that Miss Taylor would be taller than Miss Britney, but she was definitely shorter; that much could be seen in the doorway. For someone who had authority over Miss Britney, she carried herself more casually than Hayley would have liked; power over such a woman should be something you held dear to you at all times.

There was certainly authority to Miss Taylor but it was a different class of thing, or so Hayley felt.

She sat up in bed, holding the quilt to her chest for her own modesty.

“Drop that,” Miss Taylor instructed. Hayley’s hand fell away from the quilt immediately, while she was still consciously processing the order, as happy to obey as she was for Miss Britney. Of course, that made sense, didn’t it? Miss Britney’s owner - well, the woman who held Miss Britney’s lease, or something like that; it had been a complicated explanation and Hayley was far from sure she’d understood it - would naturally hold Hayley’s puppet strings too.

Hayley thought idly that this was probably an idea most people would object to, before dismissing that. She’d heard of intrusive thoughts before. Maybe this was… well, like that. She sat up, on display, looking back at Miss Taylor, who seemed quietly amused.

Miss Taylor came into the room. “You’re Britt’s latest project,” she said, and Hayley wasn’t at all sure whether it was a question or a statement. A nod seemed to cover the response in either case, so she nodded. This received a smile.

“So is she right?”

Hayley’s confusion must have shown in her face, because after a few moments Miss Taylor explained. “Britt thinks you have a real talent in client management and sales. She thinks you could do with going straight to a larger business.”

Hayley flushed. She nodded mutely.

“Hm.” Miss Taylor smiled. “Britt thinks you might be willing to accept our buy-in.”

“I… should really read contracts before I sign them,” Hayley almost blurted out, and Taylor laughed.

“Oh, I’m not here to negotiate,” she said. “Actually I’d decided I wanted the use of Britt this morning. If you don’t mind?”

Hayley was blushing furiously. “Not at all,” she said.

“Very good.” Miss Taylor smirked. “Wake her.”

It was another order, and therefore one Hayley had to obey. At a loss for other options, she learned over Miss Britney’s sleeping form, took a nipple between thumb and forefinger, and began to kiss her as she toyed with the nipple.

Miss Britney’s awakening was therefore a very pleasant one, not just for herself but for the woman waking her. She blinked sleepily, smiling up into Hayley’s eyes.

Then Miss Taylor said something, and both of them ceased to be aware with their conscious minds.