Hayley’s car having broken down badly enough it had been towed to the mechanics that morning, she’d taken the day off with her boss Alan’s grudging blessing, windowshopped briefly but frustratingly (hard to daydream too hard about spending money on new games, tops, or trinkets when you didn’t know what the price of your mobility would end up being), and eventually decided to walk home rather than spring for a taxi or try and figure out the city’s Byzantine bus timetable.

She got home around about two and was heading to her own room when she came face to face with her housemate Demi, both of them walking in opposite directions along a too-narrow corridor.

Demi didn’t look like Hayley was used to seeing her. Her long blonde hair was secured in a pair of braids which curved down from her head to rest on her bare collar bones. She wore a cupless white rubber basque, a pair of weighted brass nipple clips, red (and dripping) silk panties and a red suspender belt going down to white sheer tights and a pair of white latex high heels. Her expression was slack and empty, and one hand held a small round tray with a single bottle of beer - the beads of condensation showing it was freshly out of the fridge - and a small bowl of cashews. Her eyes seemed somehow absent, although as the two stood, facing one another, a dawning awareness and concern seemed to spread over her friend’s face.

Hayley just shrugged. “Buy your own nuts next time,” she said. “They’re not for your boyfriend.” And with that, she squeezed by and sauntered over to her bedroom door. As she dawdled over unlocking it, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Demi resume movement, heading for her own bedroom.

It was the first time she’d ever had any indication Demi was kinky, and Hayley was vaguely aware that she should feel surprised. Yet somehow… in some strange way… the expression on her friend’s face seemed to snuff out all of her curiosity.

She pulled up the chair by her bed and turned on her TV, determined to distract herself from the odd numbness through Netflix.

*

Hayley and Demi often crossed paths in the kitchen sometime in the evening, but this was the first time Hayley had emerged from her bedroom to find Demi just standing in their shared kitchen as if waiting. She was dressed much more conservatively now, the knit lavender turtleneck and the loose black slacks with thick woollen grey socks poking out from beneath. Her long hair had been freed from its braids only to be captured in a much more businesslike bun. Much more typical, and Hayley again had a strange sensation as her mental note comparing the two looks seemed to disappear before the thought could complete.

“Hey,” Demi said, and the way she hugged her arms to her chest and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot rang quiet alarm bells in Hayley’s head, but she didn’t want to say anything that might feel unkind.

“Hey,” she said in turn, and hesitated in the doorway. Whatever was getting to Demi, she thought, she might as well get it out in the open.

Silence reigned for what seemed like the longest time, and both women stood uncomfortably throughout. Finally Demi said “So… sorry about you having to see that.”

“Oh. It’s fine.”

“I feel like I need to explain, though.”

Something in Hayley shivered, and she didn’t know why at all. “That’s really not necessary-”

“I know I probably didn’t give a great impression there,” Demi surged on. Hayley recognised just from the way her words poured out that this was a rehearsed tale, but the nervousness in her tone said it hadn’t been practised often enough to be just anything. “And it’s not that me or Bruce thinks that’s just how women are or anything. But it’s how I like to be sometimes. We’ve kind of built up to that sort of outfit, and I’d never have worn it outside the room if we hadn’t been sure you’d be at work.”

Hayley was wondering if an attempt to explain would be listened to or whether she needed to let Demi say her piece first, but her friend had only paused to draw breath. “And if I looked out of it, that’s maybe the weirder part but at least it’s less embarrassing. Ross hypnot-”

Suddenly the words Demi was saying came through only dimly. Hayley heard a sound like she’d just plunged into a swimming pool, her head well below the water, and her friend’s comments were gone. Anything more she was saying was gone. Instead, Hayley stood straighter for a moment, mouth gaping open, and blinked several times in a bid to recover her composure.

*

“She just seemed to zone out,” Demi told her boyfriend. “It was really weird.”

On her phone’s screen, Ross blinked thoughtfully. “How do you mean?”

“I was just trying to explain things to her and she seemed to stop listening. Then she just spoke over me to change the subject.” She watched Ross’ attention sharpen on her.

“What were you saying?”

Demi shrugged helplessly. “I can’t remember,” she said. “You know how fuzzy my head gets sometimes. Especially if-”

“Demi hemi semi slumber.”

There was the happiest of sighs, a contented noise of complete surrender. Demi’s eyes started to cross, rolling almost halfway back until only the lower half of each eye was shown. She slumped, but did not fall, by now used to imagining gentle cords keeping her upright. And - another proof she’d had practice now - her hand didn’t release her phone.

“Can you hear me, pet?” Ross asked, and his voice was honeysoft as it always seemed to be when he saw her drop.

“Yes, Master,” she replied.

“Remember back to earlier,” Ross said. “The part of you that keeps watch for important information for me should remember. Do you?”

“Yes, Master.”

“What were your exact words as she zoned out?”

“ ‘Ross hypnotises me sometimes. I know it’s weird but trust me it’s hot, and how else am I supposed to let go properly?’ “ recited Demi.

“Good girl, pet. And when did you lose her? What word did you notice?”

“She was gone by the word ‘sometimes’,” Demi informed him, more aware under suggestion than she had been while consciously awake.

Ross nodded. “Keep that with you as you come back up,” he said, and snapped his fingers. “One, two, three!”

Demi closed her eyes for a moment, letting her head clear before she opened them again. She smiled. “So,” she said, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know what the odds are of someone being hypnotised while living with a friend who enjoys it,” Ross replied. “But I think she has been. And whoever did it doesn’t want her to consider hypnosis while conscious. And… considering she didn’t react to you? My guess is that’s kinky too.”

Demi nodded. “I don’t know who it’d be, though,” she said. “She doesn’t visit friends very often.”

“No. I think it might be something else.”

“Okay…”

“Are you prepared to be very, very nosy, honey?” Ross asked. “If we’re right, she’ll be grateful. If not, we’ll be embarrassed.”

“Whatever you think,” Demi said, and then grinned. “Master.”

*

Having collected her car before the end of the day, Hayley found she was actually looking forward to getting into work the following day. She always set an early alarm, but usually snoozed until almost too late to leap out of bed, shower, and get ready for work. That morning, instead, she got up the moment her alarm went off, feeling refreshed and optimistic. She was on the road heading into work almost an hour ahead of when she needed to be, dancing in the driving seat and singing along to her music.

Even to Hayley this level of enthusiasm for work was suspect, and she did briefly wonder why it seemed so important to her to get started before arriving.

She let herself into the office and made her way over to her desk, tucked away from the main open-plan office by a quirk of the interior walls, just in front of Alan’s office. Humming cheerfully, she shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the coatstand by her desk, then stripped off her blouse and hung it up on top of her jacket.

She took a moment to review her appearance. She’d been absent for a day, and the thought in her head was that this meant she needed to do something eyecatching. At the same time, Alan was a stickler for the office dress code, and she’d learned to treat it with the same respect he did. But perhaps…

She reached up and gently tugged the upper band of her bra cups down until her nipple was just peeking out. Technically this was right on the edge of violating the regulations, but Hayley wanted to do something special - and she’d ended up half on display like that before, by accident, and it had resulted in a very enthusiastic Alan.

She turned on her computer and booted the spiral video that was mandatory morning viewing for anyone not in a corner office. As she did so, she flipped her webcam on, an image of her own face appearing next to the spiral, and opened the drawer where she kept the scarlet lipstick and soft purple eyeshadow she thought of as ‘work makeup’. She knew that by the time the video had finished running, she’d be fully made up. It always happened, though she could never remember applying it. Not that she often tried - so much happened inside the office that Hayley had become accustomed to take for granted.

By the time the video ended there was a soft murmur of chatter coming from the main office beyond her little divide as more of the staff had arrived and were in varying stages of their own morning routine. Coffee, TV discussion, and the spiral video all played a part but different staffers approached each in their own time. Hayley also wasn’t the only PA waiting just outside their superior’s office; Marie was just settling herself down after removing her own blouse. Hayley gave her a small wave and a cheery smile and opened up her email, while Maria settled down to her own video reminder.

Hayley liked to get email answered, as much as possible, before Alan arrived, and certainly before she brought him his first coffee. She never seemed to have time at her desk after that, so busy did she get with Alan’s requirements. You couldn’t exactly research an answer to an important question while you were sucking your boss’s cock, after all. You couldn’t do much at all but keep sucking, your eyes glassy, your head bobbing up and down with metronome-like precision, your whole self a machine for milking a cock and giving pleasure…

Ahem.

Hayley flushed slightly and dipped her head. She didn’t want Maria to notice her excitement, didn’t want her friend and co-worker to suspect Hayley got off on her job duties. She wouldn’t want Maria to mentally label her as a slut.

Especially since she was confident that weak, pretty Maria was the kind of slut who got off on that, like Demi had been saying she-

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her lips parted. Hayley gasped, feeling the sudden sensation of rushing water again, and then whatever she’d been thinking about was gone.

*

Demi’s boyfriend Ross usually made himself scarce when Hayley was around, either hiding in Demi’s room or actually heading on back to his own apartment. They weren’t exactly enemies but they hadn’t hit it off. She had the distinct impression he didn’t think he needed any more friends, either; if he and Demi hadn’t been very clearly a strong mutual support as well as their relationship, Hayley would probably have disliked and dismissed him.

As things stood, they mostly just ignored each other. And Hayley was perfectly happy with that, which was why she found it a little surprising that he was sat in the living room on his own when she got back from work.

She raised a hand in greeting, put her purse on the shelf in its usual place, and was headed for the corridor to her room when he spoke.

“Hayley,” he called. “Can I have a quick word?”

She so nearly ignored him. Something about his tone told her that whatever this was it would be frustrating, and after a good day at work, she liked to unwind on the high from Alan’s satisfaction with her performance. But she knew Ross well enough to know he wouldn’t let this drop forever; if he had a concern, he’d let someone vanish as many times as they wanted, but the conversation would inevitably happen eventually.

A little sullen, she walked over to him, sat - perched, more like, ready to depart - on the arm of the chair opposite him, and waited.

“Demi told me about you guys running into each other yesterday,” he said. “If it’s OK with you - we just think something might be going on; we’re not judging you, I swear - I’d like to check up on that.”

“What do you mean, check up on that?”

Ross’ mouth opened, but he didn’t speak for almost five seconds. Hayley could see his eyes dart around as he picked his words. “I think you’ve been hypnot-”

Suddenly the words Ross was saying came through only dimly. Hayley heard a sound like she’d just plunged into a swimming pool, her head well below the water, and the man’s comments were gone. Anything more he was saying was gone. Instead, Hayley stood straighter for a moment, mouth gaping open, and then rose and walked into her room.

*

Alan’s wife Silvia was the same age as her husband, having been childhood sweethearts together. That put her nearly twenty years older than Hayley. They had very little in common, but their programming did mean that many people would assume they were very alike. Both, for example, favoured mid-calf skirts in bland colours, with either no panties or thong-style panties below. Both appeared conservative on the streets, but Hayley would reflexively strip down when in the office, and Silvia was only ever fully dressed when she had errands to run or chores to entertain.

Both of them doted on Alan and would provide him eagerly with anything he might wish, anything he indicated the slightest interest in. And both religiously watched the spiral video, knowing it was important even if they never knew why.

Currently, Silvia knelt beside an armchair. Her tall red heels placed neatly to her side, she wore a tan skirt, tight around thighs kept firm and muscular by devoted exercise. Above the waist she wore a bra of luxurious black padding and miraculous engineering which created a stunning cleavage between breasts drawn up so high asto become a shelf. In that cleavage rested a small wooden dish, and in the dish rested a handful or so of salted cashews for her husband to graze on. Her head was bowed, her left arm was folded behind her back, and her right arm bent at the elbow, supporting a silver platter about the same level as the wooden dish. On the platter was Alan’s glass of Scotch and the TV remote.

Silvia did not hear her husband’s conversation. It concerned things which came across only in garbled, echoing noises, distant and obscured. When he used those words everything was obscured in the same way but, after her past three years of training, this did not bother her. She knew at times like this she should remain perfectly still until Alan addressed her directly and she could hear clearly again.

“I received an alert at work this morning,” was one of the first sentences she didn’t hear. “Right. My girl, Hayley. Honestly I think Maria would turn to Christopher first, even if I’m supposed to be their handler. The spiral’s taken root in some unusual ways there.” He sipped at his Scotch, set it back on the tray. “Are you sure there’s no risk of the victims actually tripping into a pleasure cycle? It would definitely explain - oh, right, well, if it’s impossible, I’ll set that aside.

“No, someone used one of Hayley’s Forbidden Words around her last night. I tried to get who out of her, but the memory erasure protocols are running a little too well.” He paused. “Yeah. I sometimes feel like there’s more to this than we planned on.” Another pause. “No, I’m not blaming - why would I blame you? This is all going swimmingly. We have all the advantages we could want. I’m just letting you know because-”

He cut off abruptly, and if Silvia thought anything, she might think he had been interrupted. “Look,” he said, after a moment, “it’s just protocol, OK? I happen not to have enough data but I’m following the rules.”

Another few moments listening. “Alright. I’ll leave it for now. But-” A sigh. “Yes, sir.”

He hung up the phone and set it down on the platter. After a moment, he said “put your other hand to use,” and Silvia, suddenly aware of her husband’s words again, brought her left hand out from behind her back and, maintaining her position, unfastened his belt, her little finger stroking along the length of his cock beneath the fabric.

*

“So we’re trying again, right?” Demi’s voice was tight. Ross could hear every ounce of her concern for her friend. He raised a hand, just enough to still Demi a little.

“Of course we are,” he said. “I need to figure out how, though.”

“I mean, can we just figure out who’s done it?”

Ross shrugged. “By your account we don’t have many friends it would be. So someone who’s met her and caught her on the fly is about all I can guess - and that could be anyone. Have you seen her stop and talk to people on the street?”

Demi’s laughter started with an abrupt snort, and that was enough that Ross’ lips had settled into a smile of amused frustration without needing to be told.

“We don’t have many candidates, then,” he said softly. “Sure, separating the two might be easier, but we need to know who first.”

Demi nodded. “And it’s not like she goes out much outside work,” she says. “I’d think I’d have noticed.”

Ross was silent, staring at her. Demi stared back, wondering where his mind was taking him before she caught up. “No.”

“I kind of hope not,” he said quietly. “But I think it must be.”

“But that - she couldn’t be the only one there, surely?”

Ross shrugged. “There’s a lot of crap that could be happening where I work, just so long as it was on another floor, and I wouldn’t know,” he said. “I take your point, though.”

“There must be a bunch of people affected.”

“Maybe.” Ross’ gaze was intent and serious. “We don’t know. Yet.”

“So how do we help them?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know that, either. Honestly - we need to focus on Hayley first. We know she’s affected. We know it’s being kept from her. So she’s the one person I’m sure we can help.”

Demi nodded, bit her lip, and the two were quiet for a while, deep in thought.

*

Hayley left work the following day a little dizzy, idly thinking about Alan. He’d seemed ill at ease during the day, for some reason, and even while she’d been happily sucking his cock, he’d been more withdrawn than usual.

Perhaps, she decided, he was just feeling unwell. She hoped she wouldn’t catch anything working so closely around him.

The drive back was always dull; over time it had started to seem to Hayley as if life… faded, somehow… while she was in transit away from work. Everything was a little less bright.

It had a lot to do with why she’d gradually stopped getting out and about much outside work. Nightclubs seemed muted, both visually and sonically. They just didn’t seem to hold the same importance they once had, and Hayley had been comfortable, as a result, abandoning them.

Walking back into the apartment she saw Demi sat at the kitchen table. She had a sheet of paper on the table in front of her and was holding something above it. Part of Hayley’s brain tugged at her curiosity, and she went over to get a clearer view.

Demi’s elbow rested on the table at the bottom right corner of the paper, and her hand was held such that the base of her middle finger was above the centre of the sheet, lifted up at an angle. Looped around that finger was a cord, and tied to that cord was a small silvery weight which swung in circles over the paper.

Hayley glanced at her friend’s face, seeing a completely empty expression, her eyes downcast toward the paper, tracking the circles.

Except, Hayley realised as she glanced back down, she wasn’t tracking circles. The weight didn’t just swing around, it also pendulumed in and out from the centre to the edges. And watching the shadow on the paper, you didn’t see a circle.

You saw a spiral.

Hayley’s eyes began to trace the spiral. And despite it being almost entirely unlike the one in her video, she found even before she realised that she couldn’t stop tracking it.

An idle thought crossed her mind, but it was too ridiculous to countenance. Demi didn’t work with her. It was absurd to think someone might be hypnotising her.

…and with the word crossing her mind, while her eyes remained locked onto the shadow spiral, she began to tremble. She felt like a child who knows they’ve broken a rule, even if they don’t know what they’ve done. A fear and discomfort emerged around her. And yet, at the centre of it all, that emotion was muted and softened by the sweet, comfortable feeling of trance.

This wasn’t work. This wasn’t meant to happen here.

“No.”

The word escaped her lips - just barely - without her realising she’d said it, realising she’d said anything. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was even protesting.

That was the problem; none of this made any sense.

“Why no?” Ross asked. His voice came from behind her, and Hayley felt like a fool - she hadn’t even noticed him.

“Don’t… want to be…” But the next word caught in her throat. It was something she could think but not say. A secret she kept. A thing she would avoid discussions of. Was compelled to avoid discussions of.

Hayley wondered how she suddenly knew this about herself. She had a distinct sense that she’d already avoided things, but couldn’t recall when. The fear grew.

“You’re not,” Ross said. She heard him take a deep breath. Felt the importance of this moment to him. “You’re being unhypnotised.”

“I… what…”

“Right now,” he said, and his voice had changed now and there was something about it that felt like honey, like cream, something sweet and natural and easy, “you’re falling into an unhypnotic trance.”

“An… unhypnotic…” It made no sense, and at the same time, to her vacant stare, to her listless mouth, to her empty mind, he just sounded so convincing. “…trance,” she finished weakly.

“That’s right,” Ross said. “That’s exactly right. An unhypnotic trance is very like a typical trance, but it’s harder to achieve and it has much greater impact. The suggestions in an unhypnotic trance work directly on hypnotic suggestions, and they have to be more powerful or they would be no use at all. See?”

Hayley wanted to nod, but her eyes were locked onto the spiral, and that alone made it impossible. “Yes,” she said instead. Or someone did with her voice, anyway. It was as if it had bubbled up from inside her.

It was against Alan’s programming for her to be willing to accept this, but Alan hypnotised her. He didn’t unhypnotise her. Maybe he didn’t even know she could be unhypnotised.

“Good,” Ross said simply. “Hayley, you’re finding that your eyelids are heavy now, and soon, when you blink, that blink will pull you even deeper into your unhypnotic trance. Every single slow blink will do the same, pulling you deeper, deeper down, into a trance that sustains, with no need for the unhypnotic spiral. Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” she answered, and found that she was, the strange absence of choice that weighed so deeply upon her at work starting to settle again, a burden that was also a blessing.

(Why was it a blessing? She had never been given the answer to that question, and had never had the wherewithal to ask it herself. Her thoughts simply did not run in that direction.)

“Then begin.”

Her eyelids closed, and it was an effort to open them. Even once open, the weight was still there, pressing down. Her eyes had half-unfocused anyway, crossing slightly, and she could barely see the unhypnotic spiral - not that it mattered. She was, she knew, completely unhypnotised, and as her eyes fluttered closed again, she was more deeply unhypnotised still.

This time her eyes didn’t open more than halfway. She felt a gentle pressure at her elbow and realised Ross was leading her way; focused entirely on sinking deeper, she blinked again as she let herself be led.

*

“You’ll find you hear me clearly,” Ross said, “and that you can answer just as clearly. But there’s no conscious thought between the two things; anything your subconscious was marked out to look for by hypnotic programming, it will not see, so it will not react.” He left it a moment. “Clear?”

Hayley didn’t think about the answer but spoke as she knew she should. “Yes.”

She was, she was pretty sure, sprawled across the living room sofa. She hadn’t been sat down so much as gently nudged, at which point she’d gone from standing upright to flopping backward, almost bouncing on the padded seating. One foot rested on the edge of the sofa, one still stood on the floor; one hand was loosely in her lap, the other out to her side, and her head lolled backward on her neck and the top of the sofa padding. Her mouth was slightly open, and she had swallowed away a little building saliva to speak.

She was much more conscious of her body while unhypnotised, and yet less of it was on display. Or perhaps that was why. She was supposed to be on display when hypnotised. Would she feel more comfortable if she was on display while unhypnotised?

Agency and activity came back to her limp arms. They rose and began unbuttoning her blouse. She heard Ross’ sharp intake of breath clearly, and wondered if something was wrong; but she did not stop.

“I think,” Ross said, “that perhaps you should recite your hypnotic programming, as you make yourself comfortable. And then we can see what needs to be unhypnotised.”

Hayley’s eyes closed again and did not open, leaving her sinking more deeply. It made things easier, just like she was more comfortable as she shed her blouse. Being unhypnotised seemed to require more judgement than being hypnotised.

Or was that Ross as opposed to Alan?

As she recited, word for word, every instruction the spiral video had drummed into her over the past year, Hayley did not wonder, but only because, with her eyes closed, her mind seemed to be falling forever away, dropping deeper and deeper to the point that wondering, questioning, thinking, and even identity were concepts too complex and too wakeful.

*

Hayley’s head rested now in Demi’s lap, and her friend was stroking her hair. Hayley herself was lost to the world, a slow, strange process filling her mind to the exclusion of all else, as almost everything her workplace had imprinted in her was removed, and what remained was weakened, its foundations shaken until it would last not much longer.

“So… she’ll be alright?” Demi asked.

Ross shrugged. “I hope so,” he said. “But it’d be wrong of me to say yes for sure. Although I think based on what I’ve seen, it’s been more brute force repetition used on her than anything. Nothing subtle. Probably nothing too smart.” The two of them shared a small smile; both of them had opinions on ‘off the peg’ mantras given out as one-size-fits-all conditioning. “Apparently they use some sort of video. Given the size of the company, there’s probably nobody on site who can actually hypnotise, just someone whose job it is to administer.”

“What happens now?”

Ross heaved a deep sigh. “Well, unfortunately for our play-acting that I’m evil,” he said, then grinned, “I don’t think she enjoys this, and I’m not sure she’d be interested in either of us as it was. So it means someone just has our secret. Sorry.”

Demi was flushing crimson. “No need to call me out like that…”

“Hey, I let myself daydream for a few moments myself,” he said. “But that’s going to have to be her decision. Most things are, now. I’ve left a couple of things set in stone, just on principle.”

“Okay…”

“Let’s just say I agree with you that this is all pretty bullshit. Hypnosis is more fun for playtime than anything else.”

“Right.”

“So Hayley is going to help us stick it to the Man.”

*

Hayley found she was actually looking forward to getting into work the following day. She woke before her alarm feeling refreshed and optimistic. She was on the road heading into work over an hour ahead of time, her expression grim.

She let herself into the office and made her way over to her desk, tucked away from the main open-plan office by a quirk of the interior walls, just in front of Alan’s office. Knowing what she had to do, and having been left just enough of her hypnotic instructions to not be upset by it, she shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the coatstand by her desk, then stripped off her blouse and hung it up on top of her jacket.

She took a moment to review her appearance. Alan would certainly like a greater display, but she had no particular intention to please him that morning. It was time for a change.

She turned on her computer and booted the spiral video so it would be recorded that she had. As she did so, she closed her eyes, waiting for the video to end. She applied her ‘work makeup’ to the backdrop of the soft murmur of chatter coming from the main office beyond her little divide as more of the staff had arrived and were in varying stages of their own morning routine.

Coffee, TV discussion, and the spiral video all played a part but different staffers approached each in their own time. Hayley also wasn’t the only PA waiting just outside their superior’s office; Marie was just settling herself down after removing her own blouse. Hayley got up and wandered across, wondering for the first time whether she should have any feelings to the number of other staffers watching her go by in her bra.

“Are you busy tonight, Marie?” she asked.

“No. Why?”

Hayley smiled. “Why don’t you come visit? I’d like to discuss some work matters out of hours.”

Marie seemed surprised, but smiled. “Well, I don’t see why not…”

*

Hayley was enjoying her new job, but she hadn’t got used to flexitime yet. She found herself heading home early most Friday afternoons through odd work habits rather than planning.

She was heading to her own room when she came face to face with her housemate Demi and her former co-worker Marie, both of them walking in the opposite direction to her along a too-narrow corridor.

Both looked rather different to when Hayley had last seen them. Demi’s long blonde hair was secured in a pair of braids which curved down from her head to rest on her bare collar bones. She wore a cupless white rubber basque, a pair of weighted brass nipple clips, red (and dripping) silk panties and a red suspender belt going down to white sheer tights and a pair of white latex high heels. Her expression was slack and empty, and one hand held a small round tray with a single bottle of beer - the beads of condensation showing it was freshly out of the fridge. Her eyes seemed somehow absent.

Standing beside her hesitantly, Marie was finally wearing the brown hair Hayley had only seen scraped back into a bun loose. Stray wisps were plastered against her forehead by the sweat of delighted exertion, but for the most part it hung down to her shoulders, a soft curve echoing her shapely figure. The same glassiness gave her green eyes a surprisingly pleasant glow. She wore a cheap hot pink fabric basque obviously purchased from the costume store in town that catered to hen parties, matching cheap pink (and dripping) panties and a slightly-more-expensive white suspender belt going down to neon pink fishnet tights and a pair of black leather high heels.

Hayley just shrugged. “I was going to order pizza in a couple of hours,” she said. “If you guys want in, tell Ross.” And with that, she squeezed by and sauntered over to her bedroom door.