The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

How To Pay Your College Loans

Chapter 13: Remembrances

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Clara runs into some surprising people, and things go haywire.

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Author’s Note: This story contains adult content. Do not read if you are under the age of 18. Additionally, this is not an accurate representation of hypnosis or non-consensual sex at all, as it exists in a fantasy setting. Non-consensual sex/sexual acts and hypnosis of other people in real life is highly immoral and illegal, and I do not condone such acts. All characters in this story are above the age of 18. By Skaetlett © 2021, do not repost without explicit permission.

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“You.” Clara stopped dead in her tracks, looking behind her with a dumb smile. Anne stood suddenly next to her, towering in front of the ditzy princess. “Come with me.”

“Aaaah huh?” Clara tilted her head. “Did I do something, like, wrong?”

“No,” Anne grinned as she grabbed Clara’s wrist. “Things have been hard. I just need some stress relief.”

Before Clara could ask anymore questions, Anne dragged her past the other maids and even Lisa and Felicity, into Anne’s room. Anne’s room was arguably fancier than Clara’s—which was saying a lot. Her closet was full of maid’s outfits with some normal outfits—albeit, the ‘normal’ outfits were still quite scandalous and revealing. The room was mostly black and white with the occasional blue or purple. Clara somehow remembered those were Anne’s favorite colors; back when she was a highly-regarded professor, she’d grade all of Clara’s papers and tests in those colors.

“Clara, tell me,” Anne spoke as she walked over to her personal mini-fridge. “Wine or whiskey?”

“Uhh...” Clara flushed. It hadn’t occurred to her that she hadn’t had much alcohol since she joined the harem, that night with Diana be damned. “I—I, like, guess wine, Miss Anne.”

Anne grinned, her smile teasing and devious. “Good choice.” Anne pulled out a bottle of what must have been a top-shelf wine, and poured one glass. Only then did Clara put two and two together and realize Anne was asking for herself. Of course Clara wasn’t getting a drink. She was too dumb being not drunk silly.

Anne took a relieved sigh as she began pulling down her stockings and leggings. And then her panties. Clara couldn’t help but drool as she stared at Anne’s fine, wet pussy. “I think even you can guess what you have to do.”

Clara giggled and nodded. Anne spread her legs as Clara began her dirty work. Even as the ditzy princess ate her head maid out, Anne barely seemed like she was paying attention. She seemed much more focused on her glass of wine or her smart phone. Clara couldn’t help but feel mildly offended, but it didn’t matter. She was a princess. She was there to serve.

Every time Clara would falter—even a little—Anne would set her straight with a quick scolding. She’d tell Clara to stay focused or give her a sharp slap to the face. Clara took every degrading word and every bit of impact. Slowly, Anne got more and more turned on, bucking her hips into her former student’s mouth.

“I should be taking advantage of you more often,” Anne grinned. “You’re quite the valuable sex toy. I’m so glad Jasmine made me head maid—means I can do whatever I want to her, with her guidance, of course.”

Clara wanted to answer that, but nothing she could think of saying would be worth using her mouth for. After all, she was quite busy with her mouth already.

“Imagine the other things I could do to you,” Anne cooed. “I could use and abuse you however I please. This is the life you signed up for... and the life I did, too.”

Clara tried to answer, but Anne muffled it by pushing her head into Anne’s cunt. “You don’t need to speak, dear. Just make me cum.”

Clara needed no further instruction. She did just that. Anne shoved Clara’s face deeper and deeper into her cunt, thrusting her clit against Clara’s pretty lips. The dumb princess moaned in response; she couldn’t get over how hot it was. She loved being used and abused like a sex toy, like it was her only purpose in life. Because it was. All she was in the harem for was to fulfill people’s sick, twisted desires. She didn’t have to worry about rent or bills or paying her college loans. All she had to worry about was bringing her superiors pleasure.

Which is what she did. With a few loud moans, Anne climaxed onto Clara’s face. Clara could feel it. The wetness, the contractions, and the shivering. She loved it. She loved being came on. And the way Anne did it while actively degrading her was even hotter. Anne grabbed a fistful of Clara’s dazed face and pulled her away as she slid her panties and stockings back up. “Good princess,” she said, and Clara moaned again under the praise. “It’s nice to have permission to use the playthings here, as well.” And get used herself, Clara figured she’d say; of course, Anne would never admit that.

“It must get so boring, though,” Anne cooed, almost pityingly. “To be so dumb that you don’t know anything except being a princess and making people cum. You used to be my star student. Now you can’t even remember a simple string of numbers if you used all your brain cells to try. And it’s not only that—every time I think you can’t get any dumber, you somehow surprise me. You get dumber by the day. Eventually, you won’t even remember your own name.”

Clara’s face was ditzy and happy and pleasured as Anne described her lack of intellect. At least, until that last sentence. Her face dropped to a sad frown with concerned eyes. She wouldn’t be able to forget her own name? She… she couldn’t forget that. That’d mean she wouldn’t remember anyone else’s names either. That wasn’t becoming of a princess. But more important, it wasn’t becoming of Clara herself.

“What?” Anne tutted her tongue. “Was something I said wrong?”

“I… you really think that will happen?” Clara asked with pleading eyes. “I… I can’t just forget my own name! That’s… no, I like, I can’t do that…”

“Awww,” Anne cooed again. “I didn’t think you had a choice. Then again, it’s not up to me. You’ll have to go to your Mistress for that.”

Clara pouted. “They, like, they wouldn’t do that! Right?”

Anne sighed. “Come on, Clara, do you really think I know? I haven’t been here nearly as long as you. What? Do you not want to forget your own name? Do you not want to forget anyone else’s names? Don’t you want to just be a sex toy, meant for serving people and looking pretty? I thought that was the whole idea.”

“But…” Clara’s eyes welled with tears. “I, like… I can’t be that stupid…”

Anne furrowed her eyebrows, stroking Clara’s cheek softly with her other hand petting her hair. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t think it would upset you this much. They’re just making you quite forgetful. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Then, you can, um…” Clara’s head spun as she tried to think of an idea. Thinking in general gave her a headache. “You can, like, make me not forget!”

She blinked. “Huh? How?”

“Like, with hypnosis!”

“You… want me to hypnotize you. Not to be so forgetful. You want me to hypnotize you so you occasionally remember some stuff, things you don’t want to forget. Isn’t that going against what Jasmine and Diana want?”

Clara eagerly nodded. “Yes, please!” She didn’t fully understand what exactly she was getting into. All she knew was that some things—and she wasn’t sure what—were important to remember. “I won’t tell Mistress and Her Highness! I never would! I think it would be like, more fun, if I remembered people’s names. Like, a princess forgetting her friends’ names? That’s, like, no good.”

Anne chuckled through an exhale. “Well, if you’re sure. I can make a few changes.” Clara squealed in delight, happy that Anne was willing to indulge in her admittedly reasonable demands. Anne put her hands on Clara’s cheeks and whispered, “pink, pink, pink.”

And just like that, Clara was gone.

“There you go,” Anne purred. “Right back into that nice, deep place you know so well. You know trance like the back of your hand now. But some things… they just don’t come as easily to you. That’s okay. Being smart isn’t for everyone. And you know that being a stupid idiot suits you well.”

Clara nodded.

“But being so forgetful? It doesn’t. You want to remember some things. Some things that are more… important. It would be uncouth of you to forget Jasmine or Diana’s names. Not that you’d know what the term ‘uncouth’ means,” Anne giggled. “You’ll know what’s important, what you don’t want to forget. Whatever those things are, you’re just going to put them in a locked safe. Only you can access this safe. Do you see it?”

Clara’s eyebrows furrowed, even in trance. She saw it. She nodded again.

“Good,” Anne nodded back at her. “No one else except you can access this safe. Not me, not Jasmine, not Diana. Not any of their friends. Not even your fellow harem mates. You can always open this safe and put whatever you want in it—and take whatever you want out, too. That’s what it’s there for. It’s a safety. And I’m being nice enough to give it to you.

“I’m sure you’re wondering, why am I giving this to you? Well…” Anne’s thumb stroked Clara’s cheek gently. The motion maintained dominance, but it was also entwined with a sense of genuine care and compassion. “I guess I can say I hold a bit of a soft spot for you. When I first saw you, I was quite worried about you. You seem happy here, now, but… I’d like you to have some survival skills. Not to mention, some part of me wants to see you hold onto a bit of your old self. So… consider this a gift.” A gift from the most vulnerable part of Anne. Clara, even in trance, felt a bit shocked hearing this. Why was Anne suddenly being so nice? After she joined the harem, she gained an affinity for being needlessly cruel and playfully dominant. But in this short, small moment, she was Anne. There was no cruelty in her reasoning. In fact, unless Clara was going crazy, she could hear a bit of Anne’s old personality shine through. Maybe that was because Anne’s conditioning was still new and fresh.

“But, enough of that. You’re going to forget I said any of that. Just know my words are in your head even if you can’t clearly think about them. Well, that’s not surprising for you. You can’t clearly think about anything,” Anne smirked. “So now, I’m going to bring you back up, because I have something I want you to do for me. Nod if you’re ready to come back up.” Clara slowly nodded—she readied herself for the awakener. “Good. One, two… opening your eyes, three, reorienting to the room… four, feeling yourself back in your body, and five, awake. Up, up, up.”

Clara blinked a few times, looking around. She no longer sat in the comforting darkness of trance. She was back in Anne’s room, kneeling in front of the head maid. Anne looked down as Clara looked up. Their eyes met each other, both smiling, but both showing very different emotions.

“Good work, plaything,” Anne sighed in bliss. “Now, I have something I want you to do for me. Stand up.”

“Mm, okay, Miss Anne!” Clara shook off the cobwebs on her muscles as she slowly stood up. She took a big yawn and stretched her arms. As her body retracted into a normal standing position, Anne began reaching into her wallet.

“Here,” Anne pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and stuffed them into Clara’s cleavage. “I want you to go to a jewelry store called Shines in the center of town. They have a new brooch shaped like a silver rose—I’d hope you still know what roses are. Go and get it for me, and get something small for yourself too. Can I trust you with that?”

“Like, of course, Anne!” Clara giggled as she put the twenties in her purse. “I’ll be like, super quick!” That would probably be proven to be a lie—Clara would accidentally lost track of time and spend hours in jewelry stores.

“Good,” Anne smirked. “You’re dismissed.”

Clara said her thanks again, skipped out of the room and the mansion, and strolled on into town.

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Clara had been to Shines before. The jewelry was quite lovely, but they weren’t in any of her favorite colors—though she did like some of the gold necklaces. She looked completely out of place in the store; the patrons were mostly fancy ladies in expensive suits, but luckily ones not nearly as mean as Jasmine. They were more passive aggressive than mean, occasionally shooting mocking glares at Clara or giving her backhanded compliments.

Clara looked around, eventually finding the brooches, and finding the silver rose. That must have been the one Anne wanted! Come to think of it, Clara had never worn broaches before. She wasn’t really a suit and tie person anymore, but maybe she could put one on a cardigan. She got the rose and got a broach of a bird for herself. It was a cardinal—one of her favorite birds. That was weird, though. She didn’t usually remember names of birds. ‘Cardinal’ was a word that was easy enough to remember, though.

Clara put the brooches in her purse and began wandering back to her mansion. She was on top of the world. Not only did she do something correctly for Miss Anne, she also got something for herself! She loved being stupid. She loved being a princess. She couldn’t imagine herself in any other position.

“Excuse me.”

Her thoughts were interrupted when someone tapped her on the back gently. Clara whipped around, hoping it wasn’t anyone that was going to kidnap her again. It wasn’t. Instead, there stood a couple—a lady and a man. They both looked on the older side, most likely in their 50s or 60s. And they bore weary, pensive looks on their faces.

Clara smiled and tried to put on her best normal people voice. “Um, hello! Can I, like, help you with something?”

“We know this is sudden,” the lady spoke up with a sigh. “But we were wondering if you happened to know this person. Or where, uh, she is.” Clara narrowed her eyes as the lady rummaged through her handbag, and pulled out a folder. From the folder, she pulled a printed out photo and showed it to Clara. Huh. That was weird. Clara didn’t think she knew that person. She looked closer.

Oh. She did. Clara was smart enough to know that was Diana—albeit, a few years younger. Clara scratched her head. No. She was certainly seeing things. Why would these people know who Diana is?

“Um, like…” Clara tried to sound like she wasn’t lying. Hopefully she was doing a good job. “I don’t, like, think so. Why do you, um, ask?”

“We…” The couple looked at each other. The husband continued. “Hired an investigator. They said you might be Clara, and you might know where she is. We’ve been looking for her for a while. Can you please help us out? We’re… getting desperate.”

“Um, like…” Clara looked away. “Do you, well, know Diana?”

“So you do know her,” the wife noted. Crap. Why did Clara have to be so stupid?

“Uhhh, like, no! Of course not! I… I just gotta get home!” That wasn’t a lie. Impolitely, Clara pushed past the couple and started speed walking—as fast as she could in high heels. The couple didn’t seem to follow her past a “wait! Please!” but they didn’t seem intent on following Clara too far. At least, Clara hoped.

Clara had to stop to catch her breath a few times—princesses weren’t too keen on running, after all, and after her escape attempt with Lisa Jasmine drilled that into her head. But she had to keep going. She looked behind her. It didn’t look like anyone was following her. Clara looked down at her watch, displaying a mini GPS leading back to the mansion. She wasn’t too far away. It was hard to believe at first how close the mansion was to a downtown shopping area, but Clara never cared enough to question it. Nor did she have the brain cells to do so.

Eventually, she got back to the mansion. She walked back in, forgetting to check if anyone was behind you. She rushed through the door, slamming it shut behind her and panting to catch her breath.

“Clarie, dear?” Diana whipped around. Clara’s eyes widened as she tried to compose herself and make herself look presentable. “You look like you’ve been in a rush. What’s going on?” Diana asked with a coy smile, advancing on the worn out princess.

“I like, um,” Clara racked her head trying to think of an excuse. She shook her head, appearing noticeably distressed. “I just like, got a brooch for Miss Anne, and like…”

Diana raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s going on?” She demanded.

“N-nothing!” Clara protested.

Diana only looked angrier at that statement. “You know I hate it when you lie, Clara.” Diana walked closer to Clara, about to push her onto the couch to get fucked—the royal queen clearly looked quite needy and desperate for some action. For a living sex toy.

And then Diana passed by the front window, and something caught her eyes. The car had followed them.

Diana’s eyes widened to an unfathomable size. Clara stopped breathing as Diana’s face quickly changed from miffed to dominant to needy to fucking furious. Diana grabbed Clara’s wrist, dragging both of them out of the window into a small room—the office Clara had first been interviewed in.

“What in the world were you THINKING, idiot?!” Diana roared. Clara flinched as the normally calm and collected royal queen raised her voice to an unfathomable level. “Dragging them over here?! Are you out of your damn mind?! Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Clara could feel herself tearing up. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling—seeing Diana this pissed, this infuriated… it wasn’t even hot. It wasn’t fun. All it did was make Clara sad. She didn’t even know what she had done wrong—it wasn’t like she was trying to drag those people over. In fact, from the looks of it, it didn’t look like something she’d want to get caught up in.

Clara wasn’t the only one tearing up. Diana was, too. Her fists clenched into tight balls as her entire body shook. The ditzy princess stepped back. Jasmine’s wrath was one thing. It wasn’t too uncommon. Diana, though? Clara could swear she never heard Diana this angry before. In fact, she didn’t think Diana was capable of it.

“I… I don’t know, Your Highness,” Clara spoke, her voice shaking as much as Diana’s fists. “I—I didn’t mean to follow—I mean, for them to follow me—”

“Shut up! Shut your dumb, stupid mouth right now!”

Clara was in shock. She couldn’t say anything else even if she wanted to. Even the maids, usually keeping to themselves as they cleaned and tidied up, got the hint and left the room. Clara opened her mouth to try to say something, to try to placate Diana, but she was bulldozed over.

“I can’t do this with you,” Diana groaned. “You’re too stupid to give me an actual answer right now. So let’s just take a step back so you give me a straight fucking answer.”


Before Clara could even think to ask another question, Diana snapped her fingers.


All the suggestions Clara had ever gotten cleared. Instantly.

And within milliseconds, Clara felt like a truck had slammed right into her head.

Clara blinked hard. She suddenly felt as if her head was splitting open. Her jaw dropped on the floor as the memories slowly caught back up to her head. She couldn’t stop blinking. All her intelligence crammed back into her head all at once and boy it was the worst feeling she’d ever had. All Clara could do for a moment was stare blankly and look down at herself. Ugh. When did she get into wearing dresses and heels?

“I… god, fuck!” Clara exclaimed as her body collapsed into the chair. That was all she could think to say. What had even happened? God, how much time had even passed? With shaky eyes and a tinge of fury to her expression, Clara stared up at Diana. “I… you… what the hell did you…”

“Ugh, god, I don’t have time to go all over it!” Diana sighed. “You. Met. My Parents. What happened? Why are they here?”

“Listen, Dia—uh, Your Highness, I’m still trying to catch up to all the sex and brainwashing I went through,” Clara explained. Her voice had fallen a few octaves, and it felt sadly unnatural. “Can you just… give me like, five seconds?”

Diana looked like she wanted to retort, to try to force Clara’s brain to go faster. But she knew better. Diana knew the human brain a lot better than that—after all, she was a master hypnotist. What wouldn’t she know about brains and minds and all that? Diana stepped back. Clara could see Diana’s fury physically rushing through her. Clara sighed. She didn’t want to hurt Diana. Hell, Clara wasn’t even hurt or phased by all she went through. After all, she signed up for it. And she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t thoroughly enjoy it.

Only… what would happen now?

Clara took a long sigh as slowly, she remembered. “Okay, well, putting aside all the fucked up shit I’ve been through, I, uh… was walking out doing some shopping. Those two—” she motioned to the front door, “—they asked if I knew you. Seemed like they hired some private investigator or something.”

“And? What did you say?” Diana asked tersely.

Clara looked down. “I lied. I said no.” Clara was now smart enough to know how terrible of a liar she was in princess mode. “But I guess they caught onto me.” Clara looked up at Diana. “If it’s okay to ask something… you’re royalty. But… they didn’t look… are you sure they were your parents? I mean, I figured your parents would like, live in a castle and wear fancy dresses. Y’know. Like you.”

Diana bit her lip. Her anger towards Clara slowly washed away as she realized that what was going on wasn’t Clara’s fault. In fact, it wasn’t really anyone’s fault.

“That’s none of your business. You’re not in a place to ask such things.” Clara tilted her head. Was she really not? “I’ll… take care of this. But… I’m sorry, Clara.” Diana looked away. Clara had no idea what Diana was talking about. “You were one of my favorites… I really, really loved you.” Clara blinked. She did? Why did that statement make her feel so… whole? “But… you know too much. I can’t have that.”

“What are you—”

Diana glared straight into Clara’s eyes, and spoke quietly. “C’est fini.”

Clara blinked. She didn’t… feel anything. “What? What was that supposed to be?”

Diana’s eyes narrowed, and then slowly widened. “No… you… you haven’t…?”

“Diana?” Clara asked. Now she was just worried about the royal member. “I haven’t what?”

“Forgotten? Anything?”

Clara shook her head. After everything she’d been through, there was no way she wanted to forget anything. There was no way she could.

“N-no!” Diana shrieked. “No, you can’t… you can’t forget that! This was one of the most important triggers! C’est fini! C’est fini! C’est fini!” With every repetition of the failing trigger, Diana’s voice became more desperate, more agonizing, more tear-filled. “Why aren’t you forgetting?! Why won’t you forget?!”

“I…” Clara furrowed her eyebrows. Somehow, she remembered Anne conditioning her, just that day. Not to forget anything. Not if she didn’t truly want to. But she couldn’t put Anne at odds like that. “I don’t know. But I can’t forget any of this if I tried. Sorry.”

“Please…” Diana choked out, breaking into a fit of sobs. “Please, forget…” Diana moved forward, clutching into Clara. Clara had no choice but to awkwardly hug Her Highness. Her Owner.

Their heads whipped around as the door opened quickly. Jasmine stood there, looking worried at her wife, and then furiously at Clara. She did not look happy. “Clara?” she seethed. “Care to explain why my wife is sobbing furiously? You didn’t upset her, did you?”

“No!” Clara gasped. Jasmine raised an eyebrow, noting how different Clara’s demeanor was now.

“You know you shouldn’t lie to me,” Jasmine seethed. “And what the hell happened to all the grace I conditioned into you? You aren’t losing your training, are you, princess? Do you need to be punished?”

“I…” Clara looked nervously to Diana, who looked ready to curl into a ball.

“I took away the suggestions,” Diana said quietly. Even Jasmine looked shocked at that statement, her jaw dropping to the ground. “…Temporarily.”

Jasmine blinked, shaking her head. It didn’t look like she thought she heard Diana right. “Dear, why would you do that?”

Diana clutched her head, shaking her head.

“Did Clara hurt you?”

Diana shook her head again. “No.” As silence hung in the air, Clara felt like she was stuck in the middle of an awkward marital dispute. “I… go outside, Jasmine.”

For just a split second in time, Jasmine looked horrified. “I—what did I do wrong, dear?”

Diana couldn’t meet Jasmine’s eyes. “Outside. There’s a car.”

“A car?” Jasmine lifted an eyebrow. “Who’s car?”

“I… I can’t say.”

Jasmine took a moment to pause and think, assessing the situation as a businesswoman skilled in negotiation would. Clara looked anxiously between Diana and Jasmine, her hands over her agape mouth. The look in Jasmine’s eyes was incomprehensible. Was she angry? Hurt? Confused? Destroyed in some other way?

“Please?” Diana asked after an agonizing pause.

Jasmine bowed her head in what Clara couldn’t believe was an almost submissive look. “Of course, dear.” Jasmine walked out, composing herself quickly. Clara’s arms felt warm suddenly as Diana wrapped her arms around her, looking at the girl with a look of need. She needed to be reassured. But what even could Clara say? She didn’t know anything. Even when she was out of princess mode.

Clara wrapped her hands around Diana as well, pulling her in softly. Despite all the conditioning and sex and training she’d gone through—none of it felt wrong. She still loved them. Both Diana and Jasmine. And Kae and Felicity and Lisa and Anne. Even Natalie and Angel. She loved them all. She wouldn’t have traded the past god-knows-how-long for anything.

But this was the wrong time to confess her feelings to the fragile Diana. Clara gently patted Diana’s hair. It felt so soft and delicate, just like her. “It’s okay,” Clara forced herself to say. She didn’t know if it’d be okay. But it was worth saying. “Everything will be okay.”

“You promise?” Diana asked.

Before Clara could answer, the door opened again. Diana looked at Jasmine with scared eyes. Jasmine didn’t seem angry or hurt. She seemed tired.

“Love?” Diana asked meekly.

Jasmine rubbed her eyes under her glasses and took a deep sigh.

“So, you’re not royalty.”

Silence. Dead silence. It was as if all whirring or ambiance in the room came to a grinding halt. Clara’s jaw was on the ground, her hands trying and failing to cover her shock. What in the world? Diana built her entire identity on being royalty. She came up with a story—apparently a fake story!—and dressed accordingly. But… now that it was mentioned, the holes were beginning to seem apparent. After all, if she were royalty, why was she here, with Jasmine? Where were her parents—who Clara had just met earlier? But the most important question was why. Why would Diana go through such trouble to convince everyone—including Jasmine, her wife ­—of her royalty status? It seemed too troublesome. Clara’s body plopped in the nearest seat. She felt dizzy.

There was no anger or frustration to Jasmine’s question. Only a sense of fatigue, exhaustion, confusion. Diana couldn’t meet Jasmine’s piercing, suspicious eyes.

The silence hung above them for what felt like hours. Eventually, Jasmine broke the silence with only a single word.


Diana couldn’t answer. She retreated into herself, her eyes glued to the ground in guilt. Clara could see her body shivering, shaking.

“Answer me,” Jasmine ordered gently.

“It’s…” Diana looked even further away. “A long story.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” Jasmine sighed, rubbing her temples with an intense amount of pressure. “Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you just spend our entire marriage—our entire relationship—lying to me? You know I’d never do that to you. Why would you betray me like this?”

“Does it matter?” Diana interjected defensively. It was the only question she could think of.

A question that broke Jasmine’s temper. “Of course it matters!” Jasmine roared. “You lied to me—not just once or twice, but over the course of our entire relationship! You made me believe you—you built our entire relationship, this entire harem, on a lie!” Clara couldn’t believe what she was seeing, but Jasmine’s eyes began to well with tears as she continued losing her demeanor. “I would have loved you all the same if I knew you weren’t royalty. Why did you lie to me? Why won’t you answer that single damn question?”

“I…” Diana’s voice cracked as well. “I never lied to you.”

Jasmine balked at her response. “Never lied to me? Never lied to me? Do you hear yourself, Diana? You call this telling the truth? What was it? Did you just want my money? Did you just want to play make believe because you hated your own life? So you wanted to drag me into it, too? And all these other ladies?”

“Please, stop,” Diana begged. “I don’t want you to be angry at me.”

“Of course I’m angry!” Jasmine grabbed Diana’s shoulders with a vicious tension. “I’m furious! I can’t believe you—my wife—lied to me… so, so much. You didn’t just lie to me, you lied to everyone here! Our playthings, the maids, everyone we ever talked with. And you dragged me into your lie, I…” Jasmine looked away. “I can’t believe you.”

Diana was about to say something to defend herself, but Jasmine bulldozed over her. “Do you realize how embarrassed I felt? How I had to explain to your parents how I didn’t know any of this? I had to drop thousands of dollars on the spot just to get them to leave us alone for a moment. I looked like a complete fool! I looked ridiculous! All because I… I played along with your stupid game of make believe.”

Diana sat down on the nearest chair. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to begin to end this,” Jasmine seethed. “In fact… I’m not sure what’s left.”

Diana’s eyes widened—as did Clara’s. “W-what do you mean?” Diana asked.

“I mean,” Jasmine spoke, refusing to look at Diana. “That I’m not sure what can be left of us after this.”

“No!” Diana protested.

“No?! No, what? You’re going to try to make me stay? Try to manipulate me?” Tears streamed down Jasmine’s eyes. She looked hurt. Clara could never imagine Jasmine looking hurt. She was so strong, so tough, so… walled up. “You can’t force me to stay, Diana,” Jasmine growled. “You can’t force me to do anything.”

“Yes I can,” Diana seethed through her teeth.

Before Jasmine could ask any questions, Diana grabbed Jasmine’s tie and pulled her close to Diana’s ear. Jasmine’s face flushed with tension, anger and arousal for just a moment, before Diana said—

“Drop, my flower.”

And Jasmine did just that, dropping seamlessly into trance. Clara watched with sheer awe as Jasmine began to worship and praise Diana’s body, her false royal queen in hiding, whispering admirations into Diana’s ear as she delicately handled her wife’s body. Jasmine was hers. Jasmine was Diana’s plaything.

Clara needed a drink. Or ten.

* * *