“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Jen.” Kit grumbled, giving her fresh ex a half hearted pout that betrayed her ambivalence. She was in two minds, but the handcuff tethering her to the headrest of Jennifer’s bed seemed to make her decision for her. One last fuck, then she’ll never have to see this heartbreaker again.

“Well, I can hardly let you drive home by yourself after all those beers you had. And if I dropped you off, well… I’d want to come inside.” Kit’s longest relationship to date, were anyone to keep record, gave a sultry wink that told the butch dyke in over her head that yes, the double entendre was intentional. Jennifer pawed at her hammered prey’s black denim cargo pants and the provocative femme—who always did have a knack for taking things just a step too far—dragged herself over the other’s legs, like a python, planting her hands in the other’s lap to support herself as she began to slowly smother Kit in sickly sweet perfume. Too fucking sweet; Kit almost made to cover her nose, but one hand was locked behind the bed and the other was too busy keeping the greedy bitch at bay.

“Taking advantage of a drunk girl after she just broke things off with you. You’re the devil. Better make the most while I’m helpless.” Kit chewed her lip, lifting her hand from Jen’s shoulder after all so that she could run a hand through her long sidecut and huff like she wasn’t as wet as Jen was hard.

“You always told me you could hold your liquor.” Jen shrugged, long blonde hair flowing down her shoulders and brushing over Kit’s exposed midriff. Straddling the handcuffed butch’s waist more securely, Jen gave a playful wiggle of her hips and peeled that worn band tee even further up the woman’s torso—over her modest chest. “Your nipples are stiff.”

“Yeah, well… they’re not alone.” Kit was, despite her best effort not to, staring down at the growing bulge that pressed against her denim wrapped thigh. “Swear you only get it up when it feels like you’re raping me…”

“You like that.” Jen arched her body over her blushing victim’s, assaulting Kit with that heady miasma of perfume—artificial pheromone seduction that the dyke loved to hate; she was a slave to Jennifer’s scent, her body, and her filthy fucking tongue. The blonde spit more poison, gladly, while seizing her plaything’s face in a firm grip. “Big strong, confident girl like you. Going out to gay bars and acting like what, a lesbian alpha ready to turn some ditzy, doe-eyed princess’s legs to jelly so that you can swoop in and catch her? Childish fantasy, Kit. Never gets you off like this does. Being helpless—put in your fucking place. Told what you are.” Long, fake nails pushed into the cheeks of the girl who would be king. Kit was redder than the rising sun, eyes softening like melting snow.

“Whatever…” sighed the handcuffed girl, lashes fluttering as she breathed in more of that obnoxiously thick and redolent perfume. It was shutting her brain down, more than the scent of a sweet femme usually did. “The hell’s with this new…” Kit took another deep inhale and forgot the rest of her sentence, every nerve in her body alight with a strange, dancing pleasure that made her too giddy to question that predatory glint in her ex-girlfriend’s feral stare.

“I’ve always been so good to you, dearest.” Jen reached for the other’s thick leather belt, snapping the buckle open like the lid of pandora’s box. “Just breathe in deep and remember that, you ungrateful little girl. I indulged all your kinks, well, except for that one. I was saving it for your birthday. Oh, you’re wet.” With practised hands, Jennifer unwrapped her property, sliding down Kit’s jeans as the butch made a half hearted effort to protest with those well-tamed legs of hers. They both knew that her muscles had only ever been for show; they were peacock feathers, nothing more.

“I-It’s cold… ugh. I let you do all that hypnosis stuff, you ass. We indulged each other.” Kit tried to bend her legs and hide that embarrassing dark spot on her boxer shorts, but once again gave very little protest when Jen firmly pushed those legs back down and commanded them to stillness with her piercing gaze.

“You’re so cute, really. Submissive butches really are god’s gift to evil bitches like me.” The dangerous femme walked two fingers playfully over Kit’s thigh, curling them into the hem of the girl’s boxers as her other hand moved to support herself with Kit’s toned stomach. “What if I hypnotised you right now, hm? Remember that amnesia play? I could make you forget that you ever broke up with me.”

Kit hated how much the petty, delusional threat turned her on; she really did get off to Jennifer’s possessiveness when they were dating, but it felt strangely chilling in the posthumous era of their relationship. It was, if anything, hotter than before as a direct result. Fear was a thrill like nothing else to Kit, a horror junkie whose deepest fantasy was… well… how exactly was Jen intending to indulge that come her birthday?

“Don’t even go there, ugh. You can lay your hands on my body all you like, one more for the fucking road, but keep your fingers outta my head from now on. ‘Sides, it won’t work. I actually listen when you tell me stuff, y’know? Like a real partner.”

Jen removed Kit’s underwear with a placid smile, her face almost as flushed as her prey’s. It told Kit that her understanding was misguided—that Jennifer was planning something.

“Oh yeah?” Jennifer’s smugness was almost as cloying as the perfume that was acting as a soporific agent, softening the other’s tense limbs until she laid still like a good lamb for the slaughter. “Let me guess, it won’t work because, as I’ve explained before, trance requires deep trust and consent to be effectively induced? Like I said, hot stuff, you’re so cute. Adorable, really. You actually believe that I can’t brute force my way into your head? That’s so fucking hot, Kitty.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” The butch was burning, trying to force her sluggish limbs to move and panicking when she realised they were out for the count. The alarm only made her more worked up, her breaths coming in faster and her heart pumping on the double. It made Jen’s perfume work wonders—wreak havoc—on her victim’s remaining motor function. “Don’t uh… d-don’t… hey. Jen, can we… what’s… oh you fucking b-bitch what’s the word…?”

“That’s right, speaking of amnesia play. I made you forget your safeword during our last session, ahaha. I’d like you to try and best to remember it, while I prepare your body to turn against your mind. You’re so fucked, Kit, I want you to know that. You’re so lucky, too, if it helps.”

It didn’t. Kit could not calm her breathing anymore, nor could she flex her useless muscles. She held onto the thought—which she assured herself was a fact, and not merely a hope—that Jennifer would not truly mess with her head in such a vile way. No, that Jen couldn’t. Violating her body was already a sign that things were being taken too far, but Kit felt distracted by the worry of worse to even consider that as being as serious as it truly was. Jen was always good at distracting her like that—hiding one act behind the promise of another. It used to be sweet, and exciting. Now, it’s terrifying.

Again, the fear gripped Kit, and it fucked her into stillness on the bed.

“What are you going to do?” Kit spoke slowly, her voice a meek whisper that felt far too girlish for a dyke like her. Jennifer had removed herself from Kit’s prone, unresponsive form, and she wasn’t sure if that made her feel more or less safe. At least she was spared that overpowering floral scent for the time being. Not that it mattered anymore, her limbs had already betrayed her and fallen numb.

“I’m going to give you exactly what you want—what you’ve been craving. And as payment, I’m going to take exactly what I want: you, Kit. All of you. All your love, new and old, will be mine. And you’ll be my cute, embarrassing little virgin tomboy, playing at being the confident stud just as you always have. Poorly.” Jen laughed cruelly, picking up an object from her desk. From a bundle of cloth, she unrolled the metal implement and brandished it with digits so dainty you’d be forgiven for underestimating the harm they could impose, even without direct contact. Kit was reminded of the butterfly induction she was introduced to on their very first date, and that moreish taste of trance she’d find herself secretly craving long into the night once they parted ways. It was a worry she had shamefully harboured when deliberating over whether or not to break up, where she would get her fix from going forwards; it turned out that Jennifer meant to fix her instead. With that being the case, what on earth would relief be doing in Kit’s chest at a time like this? It had her panic in a stranglehold and caused her embarrassment to blossom like a velvet rose. It was almost romantic.

Then, Kit saw the object in her ex girlfriend’s hands more clearly, and her panic reared its ugly head once more. “Uhm, h-h-hey… you’re not seriously…”

“Relax, only this part is physical. The other half will be incorporeal, and yet, you’ll feel it so intimately that no part of you could ever argue against it being ‘real’.” Jennifer once again mounted her prize—her trophy girlfriend she sought to recycle into something much more entertaining—and slid the cold metal up her victim’s neck and across the side of her jaw.

“You’re such a… ugh, what the hell are you even talking about? I hate the word tomboy.” Kit was distracting herself from the kiss of stainless steel indenting her cheek teasingly, pouting like the little girl she was being cast as in Jennifer’s silly fantasies.

Jen played her part, too, and laughed like the villain she was. “So the virgin part’s fine in your book?” She shuffled until her straddle became more secure, slotting herself against the girl below her like they were pieces of esoteric machinery made to lock in place and never come apart.

“Well, that part’s even stupider. I can’t be a virgin, even if we forget everyone outside of this room, Jen, you know I can’t be. I’ve taken your cock in both ends, haven’t I?” The butch grumbled in annoyance, but Jen could only find the weak animosity all the cuter. Kit just had to be hers.

“Fucked your mouth too, don’t forget. You’re a good package, Kitty; one girlfriend, three holes.” Jennifer’s free hand snaked around the prone girl’s neck and lightly choked her before she could let slip the naive, childish notion that they were girlfriends no longer. Jen would correct that with her tool: a small surgical hammer designed to pair with an ice pick-like instrument called an orbitoclast. Their purpose? Performing a psychiatric procedure known as the transorbital lobotomy. It was a monstrous, terrifying surgery that came and went while leaving a short lived, but dark stain in history’s black book. For some, like Kit, the fear of extremes like these became a thrill, and within the safety of fantasy, where shame for such macabre kinks was not permitted entry, the girl would get off to the fictive drivings of steel into skull and grey matter.

“I…” Still wincing from Jen’s tight grip around her throat, and still breathing in that soporific perfume which put her motor function on pause like she was little more than a doll cut from its strings, Kit shuddered in place beneath her new god. “Wh-what are you going to do?”

Jen rolled her eyes, and the simple gesture made Kit feel stupid and small. Like she had asked a dumb question, wasting Jennifer’s time. “You already asked me that, and I already told you. Keep up, Kitty. Here, is your arm hurting?” Humming an innocuous tune, as though she were not presently violating another human being’s consent, Jennifer reached over to the headboard and unlocked the handcuff keeping Kit tethered to it. The girl’s wrist flopped down limply by her side and both of them shared a look that confirmed what they had already known: no restraints were needed anymore, Kit was completely paralysed by that scent.

“D-Drugged… me…” Kit’s eyes were fluttering and Jen lightly tapped her mallet against the other’s cheek to keep her in the room.

“Is that what you think? God, you really are adorable. It’s endearing, really, in a pathetic, wounded puppy sort of way.” Jen giggled, pushing down on Kit’s chin with her thumb to pry open her defenceless ex’s mouth and assault it with her own. Her kiss was short and rough; predatory—like she just had to get it out of her system. “Our last session, the same one I removed your safeword during, plucking it out of your head like I didn’t already own it… ahaha… I imprinted this scent activated trigger as a surprise. So, surprise!”

Kit felt her world collapsing in on itself. All of this, everything she was feeling, was just hypnosis? Its power was beginning to scare her, when she had only agreed to go so far with it under the apparent falsehood that it could not be used to go against her own will.

“I got a new bottle, sprayed it on my wrist, and held it up to your tranced-out little face while telling you how this scent, and this one alone, saps all the power from those big strong muscles of yours. Makes you limp and useless and ready to be taken advantage of. That’s how your girl likes it, right? How I get it up, ahaha.”

“You’re a fucking psycho.” Kit breathed. Even in this moment, she was hopelessly aroused—for she was terrified, and fear was her greatest rush. This was just like all her darkest fantasies, and Jen knew it, used that fact against her pointedly. What a thrill.

“This is just to keep you still, Kit. I confess you’d clearly overpower me in a physical struggle, and I don’t really trust myself to drug you. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m not planning on raping you. I’m just going to dig into your head a little and, like I promised before, take what I want. Remove those previous relationships of yours, which are unnecessary clutter in your head. Take out all the one night stands too, maybe just all the parties you’ve been to so we can make sure. Ah, adult parties that is. Wouldn’t want my girl forgetting her special birthday memories. If I set you back enough, though, perhaps we could just make new ones. What’s the term that barbaric doctor who actually did this for real coined? Surgically induced childhood.”

Kit let out a sharp exhale, clenching her thighs together beneath Jennifer as she found herself becoming short of breath. “J-Jenny, p-please, I…”

“Shhhhhhhh, it’s okay honey. I’ve got you now. Everything’ll work out in the end, just trust me, Kitty. Trust me. You can do that, can’t you? Here, I’ll make it easier on you, poor thing. Trust Jen.” This time, Jennifer signed off her suggestion with a crisp snapping of fingers that rang through Kit’s mind like her head was already hollow. Trust Jen? That’s… Her vision blurred and she wet her lips to stall for thought, but the caution never came. She trusted Jen, even if she was still so scared all the hairs on her arms were as quills.

“O-okay, but, you’re doing something bad. I’m not stupid.”

“Not yet.” Jen smirked, grabbing Kit’s face and pulling it back into position for their mock surgical procedure. “I’m going to talk a little now, Kit, and you’re going to be a good girl and remain quiet while I do. If you interrupt me, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

Kit already felt completely at the other’s mercy, so when another sonorous snap came in and bounced between the walls of her elastic mind, she just sighed and sunk deeper into the pillow beneath her head. “I… yes, Jennifer.”

“Ah, did you forget what to call me?”

“I’m not… calling you that anymore. Didn’t we break up?”

The uncertainty in Kit’s question was a shot of heat to Jennifer’s loins that had her throbbing hard atop her prey. Just two snaps to scatter her hyper-suggestible subject’s mental faculties. Kit was not always so suggestible, but, like a muscle, it is something that can be trained through repeated trances. During their relationship, Jen was as much a personal trainer, then, as she was Kit’s hypnotist.

“Don’t worry, we’re in the process of fixing that. Do you see this tool, Kitty?” Jen once again lifted her left hand and presented the small mallet, causing Kit to helplessly wonder at where its partner tool was. The orbitoclast was conspicuously absent, which caused a conflicting mix of relief and worry all at once.

“I… see it. But… Jen, what is this? Really?”

“I’m going to lobotomise you, Kitty. Hypnotically. That’s all you need to know. Remember what I told you about being quiet? Shut up now, or my hand might slip, aha.” Jen’s voice was low and dulcet now; she spoke in her hypnodomme voice, and Kit was already mentally associating that addictive sound with relaxation and, of course, trance. Still, she was holding on despite this, because the words Jen was saying were nothing short of fucking lunacy.

“I…”

“Quiet.”

Kit fell silent, receding into subspace like she was in free fall. All she could do was hope that Jen would be gracious enough to catch her.

“Good girl.” The praise was a dagger, impressing a wound upon the submissive’s psyche so easily that Jennifer’s smug began to bloat. “God, look at you, Kit. You really do deserve this. I’m doing you a favour, so you better thank your surgeon when she’s finished.”

Kit opened her mouth, but Jennifer’s finger against her lips reminded her she was to be quiet. A small battle was fought, and lost, behind her timid gaze, and Kit fell still and silent once more.

“Now, Kitty. I need to get you nice and flexible for me. Mentally, I mean. Malleable, like clay. I need to have access to the best and brightest part of you, pretty: your imagination. It won’t be difficult to do that, I trust. Your mind’s always racing with all sorts of depraved little fantasies while I’m around. Be honest, kid. You only broke up with me to force my hand, didn’t you?”

_{“It’s… Kit. Not kid…”}

“I thought I told you to shut your fucking mouth, hm?” Jen’s voice was still sweet, and sultry, and it made Kit squirm beneath her subjugator with a shy stare that only made Jen stiffer.

Kit did not respond. She remained quiet, at long last, her face so red she looked as though she was about to pass out.

“That’s better. There’s my good girl.” Again, the praise was intoxicating—and Kit was getting drunk. “Just lay back and relax, Kitty. Such a good girl for me, losing yourself in the centre of that lake. You know the one, ehe. Pushing out into those still waters and letting the calm flood you. Warm water, so warm, giving you a chance to let go and rest. That’s right, love… rest. Rest. So restful you become, letting the sun’s gentle glow form a nice blanket over you as the water at your back makes you feel so light, floating without a single thing weighing you down. Let all those stresses, all your worries, just sink on down—without you—to the bottom of the lake. Going… going… and gone. It’s just you, me and the sun. Give me a smile, pretty girl, to let me know you’re enjoying its warmth. My soft voice. Go ahead now.”

The previously unwilling subject began to smile like the sunshine. Kit looked half her age already, now that her baggage had been lost—scattered across a lakebed she’d never have to dive to.

“Good girl, Kit. So easily hypnotised, it really is precious. Like your mind just… belongs to me. Say it, sweetie. Your mind belongs to me.” Snap.

“Mmmy mmind belongs to youuu.” She sounded so gone, her voice a sleepy and obedient murmur. Repeating sentences for Mistress Jennifer was much easier than trying to think up her own.

“Of course it does. Then it only stands to reason that I am able to reshape it in my hands, like putty, and make adjustments as I like. Say, for instance, making you aware of something you could not previously perceive. Look up, dear, eyes focused on me.” Snap.

Kit’s previously unfocused stare, which had lost all direction and become glassy as she was transported to the lake, snapped back into focus and fixed itself upon her mistress. In one of Jennifer’s hands was the surgical mallet, while in the other was…

“Focus on my right hand, okay? I want you to really look. You’ll find that, the deeper you focus, the more you’ll be able to see. A glint of steel, something forming in these fingers that you simply could not perceive before. Not without help, but it was always there. I promise.”

The hypnotised girl did as she was told, still distantly aware that something was wrong but falling into routine all the same. It was seductive, trance, and she needed her fix. Her gaze fell upon Jen’s right hand, and she saw something—formless and shining. It was a nubile idea being birthed into her head, given physical form in her own ailing perspective. That she was spinning further away from reality, like a satellite thrown out of orbit, was none of her concern. Mistress certainly did not appear to be concerned, and… Kit’s mind belonged to her…

“Keep looking, girl. Keep opening yourself up to the new reality in front of you. You start to see it, that tool you had been waiting for. Like a pick, but more specialised. You know the one. It’s materialising in my hand as we speak to pair itself with the mallet I’ve got here. There we go, no longer incomplete. Isn’t that nicer?”

Kit nodded sluggishly against the pillow, knowing better than to speak now. Her throat was beginning to feel dry and she was distantly aware of the fact that she had started drooling at some point during her intense focus.

“It’s becoming more clear now. Defining itself in your mind, becoming unmistakable in your vision, as I curl my fingers around the handle and manipulate it in my hand. Shiny and portent… this orbitoclast is your destiny, Kit. You know where I’m going to put it, and you know exactly what it’ll do to you. A part of you is scared, that’s okay. Another, much louder part of you, is deliriously horny at the thought of me doing that to you, whether you like it or not. You want this. Say it.”

“I… want this.” Kit’s heart was beating faster than ever despite how relaxed she seemed, but it didn’t matter. She was too far gone now. Jennifer was about to lobotomise her. And then… all those silly things she promised to do after…

They no longer seemed so laughable. Kitty’s cunt quivered.

“Then be a good patient and lie very still for me. I’m just going to manoeuvre this into the proper position, won’t take a second.” The tool, which Jen had materialised from thin air like a magician, moved into place and soon its tip was nothing but a blur in Kit’s vision, too close for the cones cast by her ocular nerves to bring it it into focus. “This won’t hurt a bit, so be brave for me alright? Be a big girl, Kit, and I might consider kissing you goodnight later.”

The butch had lost her indignation at the bottom of a very deep lake, but she still felt embarrassed at such mocking words. For the moment, she still had the capacity, and awareness, to find such teasing appropriately humiliating. Soon, she would be a simpler creature altogether. Jennifer was poised to murder her maturity.

And it wouldn’t be more than a minute before her first tap of mallet against imagined orbitoclast. “Tap.” Jennifer’s enunciation became the real sound in Kit’s impaired headspace and the girl’s vision blurred completely once again. Her thighs pushed together tightly and the fear hugged her just as close. It was there, in her eye. She could no longer deny that this was real—even if it wasn’t.

“Tap.”

Kit buckled, chewing her lip as she watched the blurry tool sink deeper, closer to her brain.

“Tap.”

It hit the weakest part of her skull and shook her mind. At the back of her eye, angled upwards to reach the prefrontal cortex, Kit convinced herself autonomously of what was happening to her. Even if it wasn’t. All Jen needed to do was say the word, mime a swift tap of her hammer, and Kit’s toes were curling against the sheets as those three words rattled through her head like shrapnel. Surgically induced childhood.

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Kit’s body tensed up with fear and pleasure. An intense wave rocked over her as she imagined, and so felt, the surgical tool sinking its way into her head where all those precious nerves lay. She was almost hyperventilating, and so forced herself into the centre of the lake. The water was warm. Fear could not swim, nor fly, so she was safe from it there. Nothing to fear… nothing to weigh her down… just warm, and happy, a place she could let go.

“Tap.”

The petrified girl let go. The lake’s warmth spread against her thighs and the fear gripping her subsided. She had expelled it, into those deep waters, along with the rest of her worries. Jennifer snorted cruelly as she became aware of what just happened, deciding that changing the sheets would be her new pet’s first errand once she was ready enough for housework.

“Kit. I’m lodged nice and deep in there now, aren’t I?”

“Yyyhesss Missstrress.” Kit was in heaven now, all it took was pissing the bed. Spit hugged her face from the periodic drooling. Her hair was matted to her head. She was a mess, but all she could focus on anymore was the pleasure since she had culled the fear.

“You know the drill. All I have to do is move this around and sever the nerves that make you… you. Don’t worry, we’ll make a better you. A cuter, more servile you. A sweeter you, all those rough edges sanded down to leave only the soft parts. No more alpha dyke, posturing at bars and acting all tough. Just a silly little tomboy. You’ll still be you, just a hell of a lot more honest!”

“Mmmmghhkaaaayyy…”

“Atta Kitty. Then, I’ll begin. You can’t feel it on account of there being no nerve receptors, but I’m moving it now. I’m making you all better. Try and thank me if you like, but while I’m prying part your brain you might struggle to get the words out.”

“Thhkk… hhuu…” Kit was completely bought into the deception, lost in fantasy, as Jennifer dropped the mallet and gently cupped her manipulable girlfriend’s face.

“Here, I’m just going to sever some things. What was your first girlfriend’s name, Kitty?”

“Uu?” Kit’s leg twitched.

“Well that isn’t a very common name. Let’s just get rid of her. Baggage dropped to the bottom of the lake as your memory fades. You silly girl, don’t even bother thinking about the second girlfriend. She’s gone too, or… she never was. I’m wiggling around in here and taking all that fluff from you. Your first girlfriend’s name was, is, Jennifer. I’m the only girl you’ve ever dated, even if you’re a little immature for me.”

Kit wanted to whine, but she was too overstimulated to do much of anything. She had become non verbal, and like a sponge she absorbed all of Jennifer’s lies to fill the gaps being formed by that imaginary instrument poking around inside her brain.

“You’re just a silly girl, Kitty, who wants so badly to appear cool to pretty older women like myself. A tomboy, then. Maybe it’s just a phase. Maybe you’ll grow out of it one day. Maybe when you finally get laid.”

The words made no sense, and yet, they were undeniably true. Kit just had to forget her old reality, it was that simple. Even a lobotomite could do that. She forgot that Jennifer was actually younger than her, because it no longer fit the narrative. She forgot her past relationships, because… how could they have happened when she was still in her first ever one? She forgot her long and arduous journey of self discovery, and identity, and found herself reduced to nothing but a young girl going through a phase. It hurt, for only a second, before she began to drool again and grind those slick hips together shamelessly beneath her Jenny.

“God, I can see it in your eyes. It’s working even better than I knew it would. You really are depraved to have accommodated this so freely. You’re sick, Kit. Who the fuck else would want to date a pervert like you? It’s better this way, you sick little fuck. I mean, you’re still young, haha. Younger now. We’ve got time to set you straight.”

“Uhmm… mmgh… feeeel f-funny…” Kit was a puddle of her own making, and Jennifer could only laugh again.

“Well, I’m a doctor right? Here, try some of my medicine.” Playfully, Jen pushed Kit’s cheeks in with her long nails once again to force the girl’s mouth open, then spat into her throat. “Swallow.”

And like the good, scraped out bitch she was, Kit did as she was told.

Kit continued to swallow.

“Are you wearing the same shirt from yesterday?” Jennifer entered her bedroom with a predatory grin, eyes glued to the embarrassment toy she made of her girlfriend, Kit. The tomboyish girl gave the woman a sheepish look and lifted the graphic tee she wore to assess if it still smelled fresh. She was, by all accounts, living the life of a teenaged girl, and had been like this for almost an entire month already.

“Um. It’s still good. Is… is that a new dress?” Kit tried her best to give a cocky smile as she checked her partner out, but it came across more like the ogling of a fawning virgin. There was good reason for that.

“Well, yes, I was on a date. Think you’d like her.” Jen winked, setting down her purse and removing her earrings while Kit quickly stood up to rush over and help. As she moved across the room, a long chain followed her, tethered to her neck. It was for her own good, Jennifer had grounded her a week ago now and Kit had started to get used to being bound. This was her favourite room anyway, it smelled like Jennifer and… when she was alone Kit would secretly go through her girlfriend’s lingerie drawers. If she was particularly pent up, she instead helped herself to the other’s laundry. Or one of their guest’s…

“You said I could take you on a date one day, if I got my act together. R-right? You promised.” Kit tried her best not to sulk, unzipping the back of her girlfriend’s dress before watching the older woman turn around and playfully curl a finger around those eye-catching chain links.

“This is proof you haven’t been, so no, I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.” Jen’s loose grip on the chain grew firmer, and she yanked it down to make Kit at eye level with the makeup mirror. “Look at yourself, then look at me. Do you think I want to be seen out on a date with an under-developed loser like you?

Kit stared, her face already glowing pink from the way Jen always made her feel small. She was an emotionally stinted thing, simple and slow, and compared to a goddess like Jennifer she really couldn’t understand how the two of them were dating. And yet, they were… so…

“But… we’re girlfriends.”

“You’re so amusing, Kitty. That doesn’t make you entitled to my time, or my body. I like keeping you around because you’re funny and useful, but you don’t really think you could please me like the women I’m seeing do, right?”

Once again, Kit looked in the mirror, at the contrast between them both. Jennifer was tall and slender, with perfect skin and a shoulderless sapphire dress that looked as precious as she did. Kit, on the other hand, was every bit the loser Jen had pegged her as. She was wearing an ill fitting boy’s tee with some pop culture reference plastered over the front, and had plasters wrapped around her fingers—where assorted rings once sat—from the gruelling housework. Her jeans had an elasticated waist so she had no need to wear a belt, and her hair was a scruffy mess that felt so embarrassing to frame in the mirror next to Jen’s pretty curls. The most standout thing she wore was the thick black collar from which the chain sprouted, but that made Kit feel the worst of all. It was a sign of her disobedient behaviour, and was only removed during the day when she had chores to attend.

“I… no… but.”

Jen pulled the girl close and kissed her head placatingly, smiling at them both in the mirror. She was revelling in how much she had ruined the other’s old life, and how the new one would be all about Jennifer.

“It’s okay, girl. Like I’m always telling you, this is just a phase. It can’t last forever, right?”

Kit swallowed drily. No… it couldn’t last forever. Nothing ever did. So… so maybe one day, she’d even get to fuck her girlfrie—

“Ah, sorry I took so long in there, Jenny. Damn lipstick just wasn’t coming off, you better clean your face before we get to it else I’ll be in there another hour after we’re done.” Another woman entered the room, smirking in that condescending way Kit always hated from Jen’s dates. She always told them about her, and they always seemed to find her presence oh so amusing. Kit was usually the only one left out of the joke, apparently. “Your little sister, is she gonna fuck off or do we have a spectator?”

Kit glared at the other woman, who was removing her leather jacket and jewellery by the door. A real dyke, thought Kit, with a pit forming in her stomach at the words she’d arrived at. A real butch, where she felt like a kid in a costume. A poor one at that, but it wasn’t her fault; Jennifer was the one who chose Kit’s outfits after all.

“Ignore her, she’s harmless. And she likes to watch, I think she imagines herself as… you know…”

“Me? Oh, that’s… fuck, girl. That’s fucked.”

Kit was in a huff, sitting back down in her chair and wondering why they always seemed to talk about her like she wasn’t able to hear them. “I’m not her little sister, I’m her girlfriend.”

The older dyke looked down at Kit, smiled, and ruffled the collared thing’s hair roughly. “Sure you are, kid. Well, I promise to treat your girl just right, then. C’mere Jenny, get that shit off your face and let me show your girlfriend just how loud you can get.”

Jen shook her head with a light smile, blushing. Then, she grabbed her Kitty’s wrist in a possessive vice and began to kiss across the tomboy’s arm to transfer her lipstick. Kit shuddered, staring down at the floor by her feet and timidly enjoying the rare contact of Jen’s lips on her body. It felt so good that her leg began to shake and she was worried she might’ve been able to come just from that playful touch. How embarrassing that would have been, given it would breach her house rules.

Once the brief kissing spell concluded, Jen threw herself into the real dyke’s arms and Kit collapsed back into her chair, resting a hand over the metal belt she wore beneath her jeans. The sound of kissing filled the room, indecent and exaggerated. Hands were all over Jennifer, pressing her down against the bed as the two consenting adults began to do what most sexually active partners would behind closed doors. Kit stared in awe, and desperate, pathetic need pooled between her legs. It was itch she could not scratch. She had to be good. Lips fell upon lips, and breasts, and eventually Kit watched an act she had no recollection of ever participating in herself. That seemed so scary to a meek thing like her, but then, she always did get a thrill from fear. The exhilaration of the unknown, and the adult, stirred hot feelings between her ears and in her chest. It made her salivate. Kit wanted to know what it was like. To be like her. But she began to fear that she would remain like this forever, despite Jennifer’s constant assurance that it was merely a phase. Again, the fear was almost enjoyable. Again, Kit was almost content. She was in a limbo of desire, trapped within that static cocoon between one stage life of the next. She yearned, she pleaded, and yet her prayers were never answered. Her only gods were Jennifer and the strangers she brought into her room. Her only salvation was watching. Her only vice was fear. And so, knowing that this was her entire world, that nothing else awaited her no matter how much she wished for it…

Kit swallowed again.