"So, girls, it's time!"

"Already? Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

"Oh, is that what we were having?"

"Shut it, newbie, this is a time honoured tradition."

"I'm pretty sure most people count in the new year, but whatever."

"Shhhhh!" Tyra pulls up the clock on her phone, the other three girls huddling around her.

"Here it comes..."

As they count down, the following years begin to flash by. Just like Sam predicted, time flies...

"10!"

Training begins, under the tutelage of an enthusiastic mistress Star.

"9!"

Blisscorp branches into sports and athletics events, sponsors Rachel's revived track racing.

"8!"

Sam goes down on one knee, Mary gets a promotion.

"7!"

Tyra's first stage show, Sam wears a suit at her wedding.

"6!"

Aubrey gets into wrestling. Rachel gets her own place.

"5!"

Cynthia moves in, Rachel begins to train her, having learnt well herself.

"4!"

Helena holds her daughter up while Sam leaves for work, shooting for a magazine.

"3!"

Blisscorp files for bankruptcy, disappears as quickly as it appeared.

"2!"

Tyra goes on tour. Aubrey wrestles on local television.

"1!"

A woman pays a visit to a local reporter, claiming she knows something she isn't supposed to.

"HAPPY NEW YEEEEEAAAAAARRRRR!!!"

BlissGirls, 10 years later

Another peaceful train journey back home, Tyra scrolls through her phone to pass the time. The 32 year old performer has yet to break into mainstream, but loves her job, the best thing about it being that she gets to travel the country... which is also the worst thing about it, she misses her friends and family.

A notification from the group chat pops up and Tyra opens it up with a smile, Sam sent a photo. She waits for it to load, before her eyes meet the cute face of her goddaughter.

Rachel: Awwwhhh! She has your cheeks, Sam!

Mmaaxxiiee: my cheeks arent that chubby, bich

HellyHolly: rachel, i have some sad news for you about genetics

Mmaaxxiiee: shushhh, cant we just say i sprouted a cock and bred you like a bulldog? i dont want to have the meme 'youre adopted' cake baking in the oven on her 18th >n<

mistyra: guys i dont think itll take her that long to figure it out, youre still her mommy and daddy!

HellyHolly: im the mommy in that, right?

Rachel: gotta run, see you later Ty, safe travels

Mmaaxxiiee: lmao

Mmaaxxiiee: 'gotta run'

Mmaaxxiiee: Yknow, cuz she's a runner

HellyHolly: glad to see you're hard at work babe

Tyra loses signal as she heads into a tunnel, grinning from ear to ear, no matter how much time passes some things never seem to change. To her left is a case with all of her equipment, half of which was generously donated to her by her mentor, the sensational mistress Star. She can't wait to show her latest trick to her growing goddaughter, an act involving balloon animals that she designed for her more kid friendly shows.

Of course, Tyra is also a practiced stage hypnotist. Well, practiced may be a stretch, but she has been enjoying herself with it so far. Maybe she could hypnotise her friends to have better resolutions next new years? That's a way off, though.

"Excuse me, are you Mistyra?" A voice to her right, Tyra turns and sees a woman she vaguely recognises.

"Uhm, yes! Well that's my stage name at least, right now I'm just a woman on a train. Unless... do I still have glitter on my face?"

The woman chuckles, sitting beside Tyra in the quiet train car. "Do you remember me, Tyra?" The woman is clearly around the same age as Tyra, yet she looks like a 20 year old, she must be filthy rich thinks Tyra with a hint of bitterness... her shows aren't quite selling out, exactly. Sam's old roommate is more famous than she is, so getting recognised on the train is a rare experience.

"I can't say I do, sorry... did we go to school together?"

The woman laughs at that, shaking her head. "Oh, no, you went to an all girls school right?"

"Uh, yeah, but why does that--"

Tyra feels something cutting off her thoughts, as the sensation of cool ink running over her bare thigh makes the blonde shiver. Looking down, she sees a word written on her thigh.

Sleep.

Almost instantly, the woman sags in her seat, head falling forwards as her face is curtained by long blonde hair. Her jaw hanging open, a small line of drool escaping parted lips, Tyra doesn't react when the other woman reaches for her arm and pulls it towards her. Tyra is too busy dreaming while a long string of words is written across her arm.

By the time she wakes up, the ink has disappeared within and the woman is gone, not that Tyra remembers her ever having been there.

Mary pushes open the door to the office and runs a hand through her hair, looks like she's late again! These late mornings are becoming a bad habit of hers, not that any of her immediate colleagues would ever call her out on it. After all, she's the boss of this floor.

As her butt lands in her expensive office chair, she sighs, finishing making herself up in the mirror on her desk as she had to rush out half way through getting ready once she saw the time. Mary figures she might have her first hour or so free, anyway, as this company seems to be on an eternal go-slow.

It seems like fate has other plans, though, as a knock to her door interrupts the quiet all too quickly. Mary doesn't really mind it though, she's not the biggest fan of having too much time to herself anyway.

"Come in!"

Oh, it's her favourite underling, Cynthia! She used to work in the same office as this girl back when they were both interns at Blisscorp, so when she saw Cynthia's application for this position she decided to give her the job. Since then, Cynthia has been the most hardworking employee on the floor... besides Mary herself, of course.

"Morning, Mary. Well, afternoon technically. We had the morning meeting without you, I hope you don't mind?"

Mary checks her watch, Cynthia's right... it's already past twelve. Maybe she really should start going to bed earlier. "That's fine, Cynth. Gosh, it's pretty hot in here... can you get maintenance to take a look at my fan?" Mary fans herself with her hand, unbuttoning her shirt until the edges of her bra are clearly visible, or at least they would be if she was wearing one. Cynthia blushes and watches her boss, eyes fixating on the woman's cleavage. Mary's fan had been working fine, but one of the interns broke theirs and demanded they swap... most workplaces that would end badly, but Mary is a total pushover, she seems to like being bossed around despite being the boss. She also tends to leave herself exposed suspiciously often, Cynthia staring right up Mary's skirt and through her parted legs, before catching herself and looking away.

"Y-yeah, I'll get right on that."

"Oh and Cynthia?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"You don't have to look away, if you don't want to. It's not like I'm wet or anything, right? Maybe if you keep looking..."

"Y-yes ma'am, understood." Cynthia nods with heated cheeks, ducking out of the office and leaning her back against her door. She would have stayed, but if Rachel found out she was being a disloyal puppy. The girl slips a finger through the O-ring on her collar and bites her lip, the intricately tied rope hugging her curves beneath her office clothes reminding her where she belongs.

"10!"

"9!"

"8!"

"7!"

"Oh, she's getting back up! Let's see how this plays out, now!"

Aubrey watches her opponent from the other side of the ring, grinning at the resolve on display. She clearly didn't squeeze hard enough, when she had the other woman in thigh-lock. She could have just had her tap out, but where's the fun in that?
Her opponent pushes back against the ring and bungies herself forwards, Aubrey cackling in her villain role and getting ready, she waits until the last moment to lunge herself, grabbing the other woman by the waist and flipping her over the towering villainess and back onto the floor behind her.

This time, the countdown plays out without the other wrestler lifting a finger. Down for the count.

"Ahhh, another win! Will my reign of terror never end? Hm? What's this? My old nemesis is entering the ring next Saturday night? It... can't be, I watched her die!" Aubrey gives the rehearsed speech as she lightly steps on her fallen colleague, playing up the drama to the roar of the small crowd. Truly the perfect profession for her, it never seems to get old.

Aubrey stretches out her legs in the back of the car on the drive home, spreading out over both seats as she lounges, tired out from the fight. Soon as she gets home, she will be much more comfortable. Her BlissGirl harem will be waiting for her return with bated breath, they're probably preparing a welcoming party right this second, in celebration of another consecutive win. She even wins the fights she's told to lose, because losing on purpose is stupid. Sure, she then has to improvise a retconned plot for next week, but that's just adding to the drama right?

"Welcome home!" "Congratulations!" "We made curry!"

Aubrey steps through the front door to her house greeted by four highly loyal submissives, the girls excited to see their owner's return. Blisscorp may have gone away, but the BlissGirl program is still alive and healthy here, those chips weren't designed to expire or anything after all.

After giving each one a kiss, a tired Aubrey collapses onto her couch and quickly finds herself joined by welcome company, with only one staying in the kitchen to finish off dinner. Poor girl, must have drawn the short straw.

Tyra's train pulls into the station and she heads home, unpacking her things and exploring her old room. She seems giddy with nostalgia, having not visited her childhood bedroom in years. Her mother, Lucinda, gives her a warm hug and makes the two dinner.

"Mmgh, thanks for that mom. I'm gonna head out for a bit, got a lot of catching up to do, this town is as quiet as always huh?"

"Alright, sweetie, well be safe. I'm proud of you, you know?"

"I know." Tyra smiles, taking a long sip of water before grabbing her coat and leaving home again.

"Baaah!"

"Hmmm, is that good or bad?"

"Bah!"

Helena enters the lounge with a tray of snacks, sitting down on the smaller couch. "I think she's saying 'bad', Ty."

"Hmph. But... the balloon animals..."

"Fox!"

"Hm? What's that, you lil goob?"

"There's no fox..."

Tyra pouts, why are kids never satisfied? She'll make sure to figure out what a balloon fox is supposed to be for next time, smiling and chasing the little girl around the room while making animal noises.

"I'm hoooome!" Sam enters the house with a bag around her arm and a pair of sunglasses on, despite the dull weather. She quickly throws it all off in the landing and heads into the lounge, giving Tyra a gleeful hug. "Tyraaaaaa! Okay let's go out, you sure you're not coming hon we can totes get a sitter still."

"Ugh, don't say totes. I'm good! You two have fun, I'm kind of getting used to this stay at home mom thing, anyway."

Sam gives a dramatic sigh. "If only you had the child bearing hips of a housewife."

Helena glares, Sam and Tyra both slinking out of the door before they risk striking another nerve.

Rachel slips on her pantyhose and searches the counter for her lipstick, almost ready for her night out with her two oldest friends. Cynthia is still at work, must be staying late. Rachel already wrote out instructions for her pet, trusting the other to carry them out obediently even without her watching eye. So far her relationship with Cynthia has been going well, she would never call it romantic, though, more a copy of her old relationship with Helena's mother. Passing on the torch, perhaps? She even put Cynthia in the same chastity belt and slave collar that she used to wear.

Rachel: I'm on my way, where are we meeting anyway?

Mmaaxxiiee: idk, whats ur eta? me and ty at some bar but theres a stinky breath dude trying to hit on us so we mite move on soon

Rachel: which bar?

Mmaaxxiiee: girl, there are like 3 bars in this entire town, you got a 33% chance of picking the right one

Mmaaxxiiee: i believe in youuuuu!!!!

mistyra: nvm, were moving on anyways

Rachel: theres a place called paradise that opened on the corner opposite theatre, meet there? they have blue drinks

Mmaaxxiiee: ah, my one weakness! blue liquid. cya in 5

Looking up from their phones, Tyra and Sam quickly finish off their cocktails and head out in search of Paradise.

"Paradise, huh? Kind of a fancy place, it looks really out of place." Sam has her arm looped around Tyra's as they walk, looking up at the classy neon pink sign.

"Totally, looks like a nightclub! You got any good at dancing, Sam? I saw you had to learn some moves for an ad, I was shocked you didn't trip over."

The colour drains from Sam's face. "I did, twice. You forget I had a DDR phase, though."

"It was a short phase! You kept falling over yourself!"

The two women laugh and enter the building, figuring that Rachel is probably already inside or would be soon, it's far too cold to wait by the door.

Loud music, flashing lights, crawling with youth. "This really is a nightclub!"

Tyra looks around for a cloakroom, paying the girl there to take her coat before joining Sam at the bar. "Wow, been ages since I've been somewhere like this."

"There's a stage over there, maybe you could do one of your shows!"

"D-don't joke, if I get recognised by some teenager when I'm wasted I might be half tempted."

"How'd the balloon one go anyway?"

"No fox..."

Sam turns to ask Tyra what the fuck she means, but is interrupted by arms lifting her up from behind. She squirms and spills some of her drink, which is bright blue and in a plastic cup she almost crushes in her hand.

Rachel puts Sam down and laughs, trying to tap her foot to the blaring tunes.

"Ugh, what is this shit? Sounds like a dying cat got up on the decks." Sam necks the sweet drink and buys herself another one, getting one for her friends too.

Tyra grins, picking up a straw from the bar and dropping it into the plastic cup in her hand. An hour passes of drinking and small talk, the three women much looser now, still reluctantly putting up with the terrible music. Thankfully, they watch with restrained cheers as the DJ packs up and another one takes to the floor.

The music that opens the new set is much, much better. All three of Tyra's group sigh in relief, moving to the beat lazily while they chat. They can actually hear each other now, which is nice.

"Man, this is actually... really good." Sam taps her foot by the bar, nodding her head a little, something about the music sounding oddly familiar.

"I quite like it too, though I think I'd take anything over that other moron's racket." Rachel sips her drink with amusement, feeling herself start to sway with the music.

"Can't deny the truth, this is music to dance to!" Tyra grabs both girls by the wrists and drags them onto the dancefloor, having hung back by the bar far too long. The blonde gets into it, the only one not having the difficult task of keeping your drink in the cup while being nudged into every three seconds. She begins to lose herself in the music, like the rest of the crowd, moving her body in ways she never thought she could. Her arms up in the air, her head thrown back, then to the side, she can't stop moving.

Seeing her friend so into the groove, Rachel drops her now empty plastic cup and joins the other, the song changing to an even more upbeat track. The two women match the tempo, with the crowd, seeming to become one with each other as the music flows through them. Like a superorganism, or a hivemind, just moving in sync without having to think. Letting instinct take over, pure impulse. The beat keeps them rooted, nothing else to focus on in this moment, joining a mass of flesh designed for the purpose of moving to the music. An electric current that passes through a conduit, each knowing their place and role.

Sam stumbles, having never been much of a dancer, she gulps down the sweet blue alcopop and only now notices how light she feels, her head feeling like it could float up to the ceiling. Maybe she drank too fast, she thinks, feeling far too apathetic to be worried about that though... she continues to tap her foot and bob her head, not quite getting as carried away as the rest of the crowd around her. Which includes her friends, who she never imagined would let their hair down so much, swishing around and joining in with the group of twenty-somethings thrashing around in front of them.

Curse her two left feet, Sam just can't seem to move in time with the beat any more than this, if she tried she'd just end up falling over again. The lights dance around the room as much as it's occupants, green beams dragging over the crowd while a dazzling ball of light spins in the centre, beams pointing at it to spin around the room in a swirl of pretty colour.

Sam swallows and lets her eyes flutter in the distracting light, suddenly feeling an urge, a need to dance. She casts aside her apprehension, lowered inhibitions taking over, trying to get into the flow of the music just like her friends. A moment later... she suddenly trips on somebody's ankle, maybe even her own, sailing down to the floor mid twirl and landing square on her back. As she stares up at the swishing of skirts and hair, the spinning lights, Sam's view is suddenly eclipsed by an accidental upskirt rivalling the one she experienced back on her last day of high school. Wait, why are this girl's panties damp?

The timing could not have been more coincidental, as the very next second, the lights in the room flash and intensify as the current song builds up to a beat drop that one executed... seems to freeze the crowd. Something on the screen in the back, their eyes directed to it and their minds too open to not accept the command without question. Sam is unable to see what's going on, struggling to get back onto her feet as she shuffles out between the now idle dancer's legs and scrambles up to a standing position. She pushes through the crowd to reach Tyra and Rachel, who are also just as frozen as they stare blankly ahead towards the front. Sam tries to snap them out of it, waving a hand in front of their gormless faces and nudging them with rising panic.

"Ladies and gentlemen." A voice from the front of the room begins, is that the DJ? Sam stands up on her toes for a better look, but the group of guys in front of her are so damn tall. The screen in the back just quickly flashes between the words Drop, Sink, Fall, Obey and Focus. Sam feels a headache coming on. "Welcome to Paradise!"

Sam groans, feeling a strange pressure in her head as she stares at the screen. Once again she loses her balance, feeling a head rush hit her like a truck on the highway. She holds onto Tyra's shoulder, who seems not to even notice as she stares blankly forwards with the rest of the crowd.

"Now, I hope you're all nice and pumped up, here in paradise we let our impulses take over and experience pure euphoria. We shed everything that gets in the way of experiencing the music to it's fullest, that get's in the way of true... bliss! So we shed out conscious thought." The lights spin and the crowd obeys, each one becoming blank and docile. "And we shed our restrictions, those clothes we have to wear outside of Paradise. Go ahead and liberate yourselves, feel comfortable in your true skin, help a friend if they're struggling with their outfit~" The lights spin again and once more, the crowd obeys. This time starting to strip down as they remove all of their clothes, leaving them scattered across the dancefloor until not an inch of fabric covers their skin.

Sam feels the room getting unbearably hot, her sluggish movements not feeling right... she feels like she's been drugged, finding it hard to stay held onto Tyra when her friend begins lifting off her dress. Stumbling back into a trio of college girls, Sam initially slurs an incoherent thank you to them before noticing their naked chests pushing up to her. Before she can process the sight, the feeling, she feels her own top being lifted up over her chest and her arms being held up to pull the clothing off entirely. She gasps, her mind so close to slipping, while her skirt is slowly dragged down to the floor by her new friends. Surprising herself when she suddenly giggles, Sam bites her lip and tries to keep her panties on, only to realise they are just as damp as that girl's had been earlier.

As her fingers loosen one of the girls pulls down the piece of underwear and along with Sam's skirt, her panties are discarded onto the dancefloor. Now completely naked and once again the only member of the crowd not obediently staring at the next command on the screen, Sam let's out a muffled squeak when she suddenly feels the lips of the girl in front of her mashing against her own. She struggles for a second, before giving in and kissing back, feeling a strange euphoria setting in along with a deep apathy for whatever she was freaking out over a second ago.

Two fingers press against her dripping cunt and she moans, pushing up to them as the music begins to play again. She turns her head to see Tyra straddling Rachel on the dancefloor, her back hunched over to lap at her best friend's entrance. The rest of the crowd is seemingly following the same pattern, a full blown impulsive orgy overtaking the entire venue as their bodies and minds play to the music.

Sam makes out with the younger girl desperately, wanting to feel what the rest of the crowd already is, feeling left out and needy. The girl pushes her down to the floor and another crawls over to them, starting to caress Sam's shoulder, long nails running teasingly down her arm before picking it up by the wrist and sucking on her fingers. She knows why the girl is sucking on her fingers, this only driving her even closer to bliss, her make-out partner hums as she swirls her tongue in Sam's mouth, fingers sliding inside of the wet mess between her legs with ease.

It's only when the lips of the girl to her side begin to drag Sam's silver ring from her relaxed finger that she snaps out of her stupor once again and pulls her hand back with a desperate wiggle. She slips out from underneath the college girl and looks around in a huff, the room is dark, sweltering hot from the current orgy heap, finding her clothes is impossible. She quickly scoops up any outfit she can find and quickly runs out of the club, fleeing Paradise.

Her head still spacey, Sam, knows she has to leave her friends for now, running home as fast as her weakened legs will carry her.

Helena jerks awake from her sitting position on the couch, the dim light of the tv the only thing making her able to see as she heads over to the front door, there was definitely a knock that just woke her up.

Sam stands on the other side of the door, hunched over with her hands on her knees, panting heavily. She appears to be wearing a tight black shoulderless dress and a pair of red heels, a loose bra underneath with cream straps all too visible when the dress has none.

"S-Sam? What the hell are you wearing? Where's Ty and Rachel?"

It takes Sam a moment to get her breath back, looking up at her wife with pleading eyes. She wants to tell Helena to call someone, or to take her to go get her friends at least, but something in how warm and light she feels...

"Helena, can... can you call a sitter? I need to show you... Paradise."