Brainwashing Lisa wasn’t nearly as bad as Clara thought it would be. Of course, she did feel absolutely dirty being made to punish a girl who clearly wanted out of the mansion — and Lisa’s constant bratting and insults certainly didn’t help her feel any better about it.
At first, Lisa started with long rants and sarcastic quips towards Clara. And then she went on to insult and laugh at her. After seeing that Clara got off to being degraded, she moved on to trying to ignore Clara. That stung a little, but Clara got over it, and Lisa had to find a new way to get under Clara’s skin.
What Clara hated the most was what Lisa tried next — questioning Clara.
“Why are you just doing what’s being told of you?” she asked. Clara tried to ignore her, going back to the trance at hand, but Lisa continued after she saw Clara’s eye twitch. “Isn’t it shady to you, at all, that you were manipulated into signing a contract to will away your life just because you couldn’t afford to breathe? Doesn’t that strike you as… a bad thing to do?”
Clara exhaled, trying to ignore her questions. After all, Clara had no idea how to answer them that wasn’t affirmative. It was manipulative, the way Diana and Jasmine led her into selling her soul to them. But Clara was in this situation because of the circumstances she was in. It wasn’t their fault. Or was it?
She didn’t know. Clara had to admit — if she was given a chance to leave and go back to her old life of having to choose between eating and sleeping… she would probably collapse from the stress of having to make that decision.
So what was keeping her there, anyways?
“Let me ask you something. Are you enjoying this?”
Clara blinked. “Enjoying… this?”
“You know. The way you’re dressed, the way you’re being conditioned to act. All dainty and cute and pretty. Like a cup of porcelain. You weren’t always this way, though. You were smart, intelligent… and rough. You didn’t take any shit before this, did you? And now you just sit there, doing what’s told of you.”
There was a long pause, as Lisa tried to see if what she was saying would sit right in Clara’s head. It was clear, though, that she was too far gone and needed it explained to her a bit clearer.
“You don’t even look like you enjoy being a dumb, stupid princess. You just look resigned to it. Like you allow anything to happen to you. Is that right?”
The dumb, stupid princess’ eyes shifted away. She was speechless. “I guess,” she finally responded after a moment.
Lisa scoffed back. “You can’t even come up with a good answer. You must be pretty damn braindead if you enjoy this.”
Once again, there was silence. Clara’s eyes twitched again, trying to stifle the way Lisa’s words stung her.
“You can’t even come up with a good answer,” Lisa cackled. “Just admit it. You want to leave, too. Why don’t you just stay here, and come up with a better plan this time, with me?”
Clara elected not to answer, and to just go back to her daily routine — it was better than having to be faced with that kind of question. “Drop,” she whispered into Lisa’s ear. Lisa’s head drooped, her eyes closing as she drifted off into trance. “Good kitty.”
Lisa meowed. She was a good kitty.
Clara left Lisa in her kitty-state once again. Lisa meowed and purred at Clara’s side, rubbing up against her on all fours. She seemed much, much more well trained this way. Clara began to think that maybe, just maybe, she was better at this whole hypnosis thing than she initially thought. Even as sometimes, coming up with the right words strained her poor brain cells, it came fairly naturally to her.
Lisa was honestly kind of a trance slut, too, so it wasn’t absurdly difficult.
When Clara exited the room, she was slightly surprised to see Jasmine standing there, arms crossed with an intent look at Clara. Any time Jasmine looked at Clara with any sort of ill will in her eyes — which was most times — Clara found herself recoiling in fear. It didn’t help that Jasmine was a woman of few words, saving her breath for more important matters.
“Status report, if you will.” Jasmine spoke bluntly, straight to the point.
“Well, um… I seem to have a pretty good way to get her back in kitty mode. It’s pretty quick and easy to do at this point. Easier than yesterday, I mean.”
“I see.” Jasmine nodded as she bit her lip. “Is she still fighting back?”
“Um… yeah, a little. Not as much, though. She stops as soon as I drop her… and she hasn’t been able to resist trance lately, either.” Clara shrugged, giving an awkward and ditzy giggle. “I think I’ve got a good handle on her, is what I’m saying.”
“Good,” Jasmine cooed, an surprisingly uncarictaristic smile crawling across her lips. “I’m very pleased with your progress, princess.”
Clara blushed, folding together the hem on her dress and curstying. Praise and commendation from Jasmine always felt good — especially since she was much more inclined towards scolding and degradation. “T-thank you, Mistress.” But Clara clearly still had something on her mind, and Jasmine could definitely see right through her. The smile on her lips faded back into a disapproving frown.
“Is something wrong?” Jasmine’s voice was demanding, although the volume was barely above a whisper. Somehow, that scared Clara even more into talking.
“I… nothing’s wrong, I mean, nothing’s that wrong, just…” Clara stumbled over her words, trying to find a way to get to the point.
“I’m giving you the opportunity to speak your mind,” Jasmine graciously offered. “So, tell me. What’s in between those few brain cells?”
Clara gulped, inhaling as she decided to talk. “Do I… make a good princess?”
Jasmine raised an eyebrow, looking down at Clara curiously. “Of course. You are a princess, you don’t know how to be anything else. Why would you not be fantastic at being what you are?”
Those words were degrading, but also quite affirming in a strange way. They made Clara feel more at home in her new identity, like it was something she had inside of her all along. So why did she feel this way? Why was she still questioning it? She was a princess, right?
“Why do you ask? Are you feeling insecure, for some reason?” The question seemed impatient, but Clara somehow knew Jasmine well enough to know that she cared. In a strange way, she cared about erasing any doubt from Clara’s mind and making her feel more secure.
“Lisa asked me… or rather, she told me I don’t… look like I’m enjoying being a princess. But I don’t mind being a princess. But she said I look…” Clara tilted her head upwards. ‘Resigned’ was a hard word to pronounce. “Accepting. But like, in a different way. Re… reh… zined?”
“Resigned,” Jasmine corrected, trying her hardest not to laugh at Clara. “You do seem indifferent to it. Well, let me ask you: do you enjoy being a princess?”
Clara hesitated. A millisecond later, she realized she had paused and amended that. “Yes, Mistress, I do.”
The cruel businesswoman Domme narrowed her eyes. She didn’t directly question Clara’s honesty, but suspicious washed over her face and it was very obvious.
“I don’t… think I don’t like it,” Clara elaborated.
“Why don’t we test that, then?” Jasmine’s hands moved out to grab the sides of Clara’s arms roughly. “Why don’t we see just how unsure you are about accepting what you are.”
Pulling the stunned ditz in, Jasmine whispered that sweet color three times. Clara blacked out.
Whenever Clara went into trance, time sat still and disappeared. The moment after Jasmine or Diana awoke her from trance, Clara had no idea just how much time had passed. She’d learn to guess the time she lost by how stiff her muscles were, and how much effort it took to readjust to the waking world. She must have been in trance for just a few minutes, probably no more than five. Her body felt disconnected, but it didn’t take too much effort to return to consciousness.
Immediately after she returned to her body, Clara knew something was different. Somehow, the clothes on her body seemed to fit so much better, and the fabric seemed softer. Not to mention, when she looked down and saw her pink silky dress, she could register them as her clothes. Not clothes that Jasmine and Diana forced her to wear — just her clothes, that she loved wearing herself.
Clara smiled widely. She felt like her body was her own, again. She loved being a pretty and graceful princess — why did she ever doubt how much she liked it?
“How are you feeling, princess?” Jasmine asked.
Clara giggled once again. Even just being called a princess filled her with glee. Butterflies raced in her stomach as a rush ran through her.
“I feel good, Mistress. So, sooooo much better.”
“You seemed like you didn’t like being a princess so much, for a second. It was strange, for you to just dislike something you are. Do you still have any doubts about being a princess?”
“None at all, Mistress!”
Jasmine grinned. Clara was too dumb and stupid to tell if her smile was malicious, or if she was actually happy for Clara. It didn’t matter — as long as Mistress was happy, everything was okay, right?
“Why don’t you show off how much you enjoy it, then? Show the world how much you enjoy being all pink and frilly and fragile.” Jasmine tipped off her suggestion by running her hand under Clara’s chin, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. Clara stared at her with wide eyes, the mascara and eyeliner probably making her eyes look that much wider.
“Um… like, in the mansion?”
“Hmm,” Jasmine hummed. “Maybe today, I can let you go outside of here. You know… you’ve earned my trust back after the other day. I think I can trust you not to run off too far.”
“So, like… I can go outside? And like… talk to people?”
“Of course, princess. As long as you don’t say anything to alarm them. No talk about being owned by two attractive rich ladies, do you understand?” Clara giggled with a nod, obviously pleasing Jasmine with the sheer amount of power she had over Clara. “You know how to act like a princess. Go show everyone.”
“Oh my gosh, like, I’m so excited! Thank you, Mistress!”
Jasmine was completely thrown off by surprise when Clara jumped slightly, embracing the taller woman in a deep hug. She held the embrace for a few minutes, failing to notice the way Jasmine’s body tensed up in shock.
Clara let go, tilting her head in confusion when Jasmine offered back a bewildered gaze.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, shellshocked.
Clara paused. “I don’t know. You’re nice to me, and stuff, Mistress. You made me remember how much I love being a princess.”
Jasmine continued to stare, readjusting back to the real world herself as she coughed out, “okay.”
“Um… should I not have done that?”
Jasmine didn’t directly respond to that. She shook her head, trying to process what just happened — as if a loading bar scrolled out across her face. “Just ask me next time before you do that.”
“Okay,” Clara agreed happily.
“Um, anyways, one more thing — let me just… put this on you…”
From her pocket, Jasmine brought out a pink bracelet. No — a wristwatch? It was studded with diamonds and a light, easy shade of pink. It fit Clara’s wrist easily, as Jasmine grabbed her hand and clipped it on. Not only did it fit neatly on her wrist, if not a bit snug, it complimented her outfit and her demeanor. It was pretty, of course, but why…
Jasmine also tugged out Clara’s hand, and stuffed a few hundred dollar bills into her palms.
“Be back before 6pm,” Jasmine urged. “And do not, under any circumstances, take off this watch. It’s very important. Understood?” It seemed that Jasmine was dumbing down her words a bit, just enough for Clara to understand completely.
“Yes, Mistress! Back at 6pm!” To be honest, Clara wasn’t sure if she could actually still read traditional clocks — but it looked readable enough.
“Good princess. So obedient and pretty.” Jasmine gave Clara a small push, motioning her to the door. “Now, off you go.”
Clara almost skipped her way happily to the door, sliding through the front door and heading out. Jasmine glanced over at her leaving the mansion as she whipped open her smartphone to ‘Track My Watch’ app, clearly showing Clara’s location in real time.
She definitely wasn’t smart enough to go too far, though. Especially not now.
Clara stepped out of the mansion, taking a deep breath in. The air felt so clean, somehow cleaner than the greenhouse she would spend so many sleepless nights in. Not even a full minute after simply existing outside, Clara felt so much lighter. She felt okay. And… free. Captive, but free.
Luckily for Clara, the walk over to the center of town wasn’t anything too strenuous. After all, she was wearing heels, though walking in them seemed much easier these days after all the training. She hadn’t been to that area of town in a long time… she wondered if anything had changed since then.
It didn’t seem like the general structure of the downtown area had changed, per se, but Clara’s eyes were much more drawn to the clothing stores rather than the cafes and bookstores she used to frequent. In particular, she saw one establishment she’d previously rolled her eyes at. It was a store that sold modernized vintage outfits, and oh boy were they gorgeous.
She used to think so lowly of people who would wear these outfits, let alone spend probably hundreds of dollars on them. Clara always opted from practicality or usefulness, stuffing her hair into messy buns as she put on her typical outfit of ’t-shirt, sweatpants, and sports bra’. But now she had more options — dresses, petticoats, jewlery and heels… what else could she want?
Clara wandered in, the dinging of a chime sounding off as she stepped through the doors. The clerk greeted her with a warm smile and a ‘how are you today?’
“Like, real good!” Clara giggled. “This is like, such a cute store!”
“Aw, well thank you,” the storekeeper responded warmly, seemingly not put off at all by Clara’s emerging valley girl accent. “Is this your first time here?”
“Yeah! I want like, everything, but I only have like…” Clara pulled out the dollar bills Jasmine had given her before she hopped off. She tried to count each one… one, two, three…
Wait, she thought as she realized she lost count. One, two…
“Don’t worry about it too much,” the clerk responded, waiving away Clara’s worries about counting. “Why don’t I set you up in a dressing room? I’ll pick out a few outfits for you, have you try some stuff on… how does that sound?”
“Oh my gosh, I would love that!” Clara’s eyes must have been sparkling — she didn’t realize how cute and adorable she sounded, not to mention ditzy as all hell. “I’d like to try, like, everything… but like, especially anything pink. Purple and red, too, but like, really pink!”
“Pink it is, then,” the storekeeper grinned as she ushered Clara into one of the dressing rooms. Clara took a seat, crossing one ankle over the other and waiting anxiously. Excitement pounded through her heart as she waited. Mindlessly, she began fiddling with the buttons and fidgets on her watch.
So shiny… and it was so complicated to look at, too. She just liked watching the ticking of the hands, the whispering murmur of clockwork. Clara could almost feel her mind slipping away once again, the temptation of falling back into trance at her beck and call… maybe if she just closed her eyes for a moment…
Clara snapped back to some semblance of attention when the door opened. The clerk from before carried a heap of clothes in both of her hands, with some jewlery and shoes in tow as well. Clara’s eyes glittered with enthrallment. Everything was so shiny, and sparkly, and frilly, and just straight up cute. If it were possible, Clara would want to wear all of the items at once.
“I kind of just picked a bit of everything,” the clerk stated as she begun hanging the various items up on the racks. “Just feel free to try whatever you want on, and bring whatever you don’t want over to that hanger over there.”
“Of course!” Clara sang as the cashier walked out, locking the door for Clara to try on the clothes. Clara stripped quickly, eager to try everything on. Now, what to start with first…
Clara’s eyes drifted across each of the pieces. Might as well start with one of the lovely 1950s aesthetic dresses, with some heels to match…
She walked out of the dressing room. At least an hour must have passed — most of the time was just her admiring herself and her new look in the mirror. She swung and twirled in each outfit, showing off how big the dresses were, and how good she could skip around in heels.
Clara didn’t have all the money in the world, but she certainly had a good amount. She could buy at least a few of her favorite items. The eight hundred dollar dress she loved she had to pass on, which stung her just a little. Still, the amount of fantastic items she could get was nothing to sneeze at.
Upon exiting, the clerk asked if she’d like to keep one of her new outfits on. Clara eagerly nodded, happy that was even an option. She began checking out the clothes. Clara fiddled with the hem of her pink and lilac striped dress, counting the sparkles on the sequins of her shoes. For once, she was deep in thought — of course, those thoughts weren’t that intelligent or thoughtful.
Her mind came to a halt when she heard a voice that sounded way too familiar.
“Clara?” A woman suddenly next to her exclaimed with shock. “Is… is that you…?”
The princess turned around to see someone… she could swear she knew this person…
Clara blinked a few times as her memory began to spin. This woman was a college professor of hers, right? At least, one from when she was smart enough to be in college. She was an advanced biology teacher whose classes she’d taken a few times. Doctor Anne… Strickland, Clara somehow remembered. That was right!
“Oh! Hi, Professor, funny seeing you here,” she greeted her former professor with a vivid giggle. “How’s you been— I mean, how’ve you been?”
“I… fine,” the professor looked completely dumbfounded, as if it wasn’t actually Clara who was standing in front of her.
The clerk finished checking out the clothes. Professor Strickland — or, Anne now — stared in awe with wide eyes as Clara dropped the wad of 100s on the counter. The bills were counted and some were handed back to Clara (“you gave me a few too many”, to which Clara giggled again.)
“So, like, how’ve you been?”
“You… asked me that,” Anne blinked. “Sorry, I’m just, I… you look… and seem… different.”
“I know! Isn’t this dress, like, so cute? It’s my favorite color. I just got it,” Clara added as if that wasn’t perfectly obvious.
“Yeah, I just saw you check it out. I didn’t expect you to look quite like…” Anne gestured vaguely to Clara’s entire appearance. “That.”
“Thank you!” The fact that Anne’s words were far from a compliment flew over Clara’s head.
Anne just continued to stare, completely dumbfounded. She sputtered, trying to find the right words to describe how she felt to no avail. “Hey,” Anne suddenly piped up. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll grab you coffee, we can catch up and talk about your… life, since graduating.”
“Sure!” Clara graciously agreed with Anne guiding her out of the vintage clothing store. She felt so graceful walking out with her cute new heels and her lovely dress, finished with silver jewelry. Unaware that Anne was not impressed with her new makeover by a long shot, she enthusiastically followed Anne to a rather secluded area.
“So, like, what’s going on with you? How’s the teaching?”
“Good, I just started my new class of… oh, who am I kidding? That’s not why I brought you out here,” Anne groaned, exasperated. “What happened to you? What — what happened to that company I referred you to? The one that said they’d give you an interview after you graduated?”
“Oh,” Clara’s face dropped from her dopey, smiley, ditzy smile. “I dunno. It didn’t work. It was just too, like… hard, you know?”
“Clara,” Anne exhaled. “You passed by classes with top marks every time. You graduated magna cum laude. Your research papers were excellent quality. How was that kind of job too hard for you?”
Clara shrugged. She didn’t like the way Anne was interrogating her at all — she was happy with being a ditzy idiot, right? Why did she feel so much shame about not being that smart anymore? “It just didn’t work out. I dunno if I ever really understood that stuff, you feel?”
“No! You did understand that stuff — heck, you corrected me at some moments! Just…” Anne ran her hands down her face. Clara frowned — why was she being so difficult about this? “Okay, let’s try this out. Clara, can you tell me how bonsai plants grow versus other plants?”
Clara tilted her head. Most of those words sounded foreign to her. “Um… bonsai… they… um…”
Anne waited with baited breath for Clara to remember the answer. Unfortunately, Clara just shook her head, completely forgetting the answer she probably did dozens of essays on.
“Okay. Fine. Difficult question, I get it.” Anne’s eyes rolled back as she tried to think of a new question. “Let’s try… how do plants make energy?”
Oh, Clara knew that answer! That was basic biology. Her lips curled back upward. “Oh, that’s easy! It’s photo…” Photo… something. Photo-what? “Photo… um… it’s on the tip of my tongue…”
It felt like hours had passed since Clara started trying to think of the answer. Why couldn’t she think of it? She felt so guilty, as if she had personally slighted Anne. She let down her favorite college professor, who spent years teaching her and guiding her.
“Synthesis,” Anne finished the word, clearly distraught at her apparent failure. Anne gulped, biting her lip, before she asked one final question. “What are plants made up of?”
Clara blinked. That was such a vague question. Was it a trick? A game? A sex game? “Um… green. They’re made of green stuff, right?”
Anne’s eyes rolled back. She had given up on trying to restore any semblance of Clara’s intelligence — clearly a good decision, considering she was a lost cause. “Okay, so, you’ve clearly lost a good amount of your brain cells. Can you please tell me what happened to you?”
Clara almost shook her head. She couldn’t tell anyone what her situation was! She’d almost certainly get in trouble if she did!
Anne began murmuring to herself. “Oh god, is this what I think it is?”
“Let’s see,” Anne inhaled. “Green, green, green?” She paused for a minute, waiting to see if Clara would respond. “No, not that… it’s gotta be three words, right? Three colors? Red, red, red? No?”
“Um… Anne? What are you doing?”
“Purple? Lilac, lilac— oh, duh.” Anne stared into Clara’s eyes intently, as if she was staring into her soul. “Pink, pink, pink?”
Clara dropped instantly, the curious edge to Anne’s voice not cancelling out the trigger in the slightest. Her body drooped, her eyes shutting lightly as her entranced body fell into Anne’s surprised arms.
“Oh Christ,” Anne groaned, rolling her eyes backwards in sheer exasperation. “I should have known. I should have known this is what was going on.”
Anne inhaled, trying to figure out what to do next as she tried to keep Clara steady on her feet. “Fuck,” Anne exclaimed, shaking Clara just a little. “Okay, okay. Wake up, Clara. It’s time to come back to sensible people world.”
Clara opened her eyes, trying to readjust to the waking world. The way Anne had woken her up was much more curt and abrupt than the way Jasmine would do so. It took her just a few minutes for her mind to catch up from suddenly being put in trance and brought out seconds later. Fractionation, in a way.
“I… uh… huh?” Clara’s single-digit brain cells began to vibrate. “How… how did you know…?”
“God damn it, Jasmine,” Anne sighed in response. “How did you — you — get involved with her? I would have thought you’d have known better than to… I guess sell yourself into sexual slavery.”
“I… I didn’t know.” Clara looked down, twiddling her hands in shame.
“Really? You didn’t know?” Anne asked in disbelief. “I don’t think that’s true. But… why? Why would you turn to something like this? Certainly there were better options, right?”
“I… I’m sorry,” Clara muttered out, her voice barely above a whisper. “How… how do you know Mistress?”
“Jasmine. That’s her name,” Anne corrected intensely. “We were friends in college.”
Clara blinked. They were… friends? What a small world…
“She’s always made questionable decisions and shady business choices. We sort of stopped talking as much once she met that woman.” Anne’s words seemed much more rife with anger as she mentioned ‘that woman’ — she wasn’t talking about Diana, was she? Why was her voice so furious, if she was?
“Then she started doing this weird harem thing, which you know, whatever — I don’t kinkshame. But then she just kept adding more and more girls, giving them insane amounts of money to buy their souls and own them as… as property.” Anne stopped speaking for a minute, her disgust and disappointment coming to a halt as gears began turning in her head.
“Clara. You had to take out private loans for college, didn’t you?”
“I… I did,” she admitted.
Anne’s face turned even more serious and demanding. “How much do you have in loans?”
“…Zero,” she stated. When she saw the confusion on her former professor’s face, Clara corrected herself. “I mean, now, zero. Before it was… a lot. A lot of numbers.”
Anne inhaled deeply, and exhaled, trying to figure out how to go about this situation. Clara fidgeted nervously as Anne tried to figure out her next steps. What was she going to do with her? Anxiety rushed through her veins. She wasn’t going to take her away from Jasmine and Diana, right?
Wait… why was that thought so scary to her?
“I’m pretty disappointed,” Anne said. “Now that you’re not my student, or smart enough to be my student, I can say that. I had faith in you — you were an excellent student! And then you fall for this… blatant scam!”
Clara muttered an ‘I’m sorry’ below her breath, but Anne either didn’t hear it or didn’t care. But the shame felt so good to her — already, she could feel heat growing in her crotch. She wanted more, to be insulted more by someone who she respected.
“And clearly, Jasmine has done quite a number on you — both your body and your brain,” she spoke as she wildly motioned her hands to Clara’s body. “Look at you! These clothes, and this jewlery, it’s — it’s not like you! Doesn’t that make you feel weird, that Jasmine did this to you?
“And what about your intelligence? Before all this, you could stand in front of my class and give talks about PhD-level biology. But now you can’t even construct a sentence! Is this really what you want for the rest of your life? To be a brain dead ditzy idiot who can’t function on her own and needs to let her sugar mommies do all the thinking for her?”
“I — I just… mmf…” Clara couldn’t help but let out a small moan as she clasped her legs together. She just couldn’t control how damn turned on she was.
“Oh god,” Anne breathed. “Please don’t tell me you’re getting off on this.”
“I… it feels so good…” Clara gasped incessantly, trying to hide her indecent showing of pleasure.
“Jeez, Clara, can you just — we’re in public!” Anne chastised her, but that seemed to only make Clara’s horniness even more potent. “Alright, fine, just — just come with me.”
Anne forcefully grabbed Clara’s wrist, making her yelp. She started dragging the ditzy and horny princess away from the area, trying to stay out of public sight as much as possible. Clara began trying to think of ways to get away, excuses she could make. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t do it — thinking any sort of difficult thought was just too much. If she tried, she would get bombarded with a deep pink mist. Clara simply resigned herself to going with Anne, wherever she was taking her.
Anne dragged her behind the buildings, taking her to a secluded parking lot. Even Clara was smart enough to know that Anne was taking her to her car for a more private interrogation. Obviously, being a college professor, Anne couldn’t afford the most top-notch car — but her SUV definitely gave them enough room to have an ‘intense’ conversation.
The tall professor threw open the door as she shoved Clara in, getting in next to her. The look in Anne’s eyes was terrifying, in some respects. She was silently demanding answers from Clara — and the fear made Clara want more, somehow…
“Do you even look at yourself anymore?” Anne asked, grabbing Clara’s sides. “Do you ever wake up and see the way you look? How much you’ve changed? Or are you too stupid to be scared by what Jasmine has done to you at this point?”
“I… it’s hard, thinking is hard,” Clara stuttered out. “It’s too hard to think…”
“Yeah, I can tell. Such a shame that such a smart, bright, brilliant woman fell into some mean rich businesslady’s hands and immediately turned to mush.” Anne grabbed Clara’s thighs, rubbing them up roughly and pushing up her dress. Pulling her hands in between Clara’s soft legs to pull them apart and show how wet Clara was, she continued. “But, well, you’re enjoying it, aren’t you? Isn’t that all that matters to you?”
“I… that’s…” Clara’s body shivered with anticipation. Deep down, she wanted to get degraded and fucked by her former professor — hard. “That’s… mean. You’re… you’re being mean to me…”
“Awww, Professor Strickland, you’re being mean to me,” Anne repeated back in a degrading, mocking tone. “I’m too stupid to understand what you’re saying, so I’m just going to be all hurt and turned on by it.”
Finishing her mocking, Anne punctuated her sentence with a sharp slap to Clara’s face. “Shut up, you dumb, dumb idiot. You want to be a dumb fuckdoll? Well, fine. I can’t stop you. So I might as well have some fun with you, right?”
“H… how do you want to have fun with me?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Anne’s scowl turned into a sadistic grin, teasingly poking Clara’s forehead as if to test how hollow it was. “Just lie back and be a princess for me, will you?”
Clara’s answer was simply a bunch of moans and whining. This only coaxed Anne on further. She grabbed the hem of Clara’s lovely panties, pulling them down to show off her dripping cunt. The bottom of her panties was completely stained with her juices. The smell only encouraged Anne on. The way Clara’s legs trembled with anticipation, as her mind tried its hardest to mentally register what was going on…
It made the look on Anne’s eyes almost feral — as if she suddenly had a visceral need for Clara. And here, her body was hers and hers alone.
“A-Anne, I’m… the way you’re looking at me is…” Clara was interrupted once again by a slap to her other cheek.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, calling me my first name. Even as you’re in this situation, you still can’t get your mind to work properly, huh?” Anne growled as she ran her hands underneath the surprisingly stretchy dress, pinching Clara’s nipples. “Even someone like you should know how much smarter I am than you. So, what do you call me?”
“Um… teacher, miss… lady?”
Anne groaned out, her frustration ever clear as day as her hand reached for Clara’s neck. She began choking the subby, ditzy princess, cutting off her guessing game and her air.
“Idiot. Professor. That’s what I am to you. So why don’t you call me that, princess?”
“Y-yes, I will, Professor,” Clara somehow stammered out, her words lacking air or comprehension. Luckily for her, Anne took her hand off of Clara’s airway, going back to playing with her tits.
“Good princess,” Anne cooed. “You know, I was so disappointed when I saw you just now. You look like you’d lost your mind… and I guess you did. It’s so sad and pathetic, someone who used to be as smart as you falling for such a dirty game. But you know what?”
Anne pushed her face into Clara’s, with Clara’s body jumping back in surprise. Anne was even more in her personal space, this time in a more scary and disorienting way. Her eyes gazed into Clara’s, trying to shoot poison into them with her words.
“I like it, Clara. I like you much more as a ditzy, dopey, smiley idiot.”
“T-thank you, Professor,” Clara’s face lightened up at the sudden compliment. “I like it more, too. It’s, like… so much easier.”
“Easier to let other people do the thinking for you, huh?” Anne teased. She had gone so feral at this point that she was downright drooling in thirst onto Clara’s chest, her new dress. “Maybe that’s what’s best for you. Being a pretty, pink plaything. Maybe I should give Jasmine my regards, thank her for her service.”
“That would be like, real nice—“ Clara was interrupted when Anne put her hand over Clara’s mouth, suffocating her slightly and taking away her ability to speak.
“You need to shut up and stop talking so much, then.”
As Anne spoke threateningly, her free hand reached down to Clara’s cunt. The friction around their skin made Clara whimper and tense up, though Anne certainly didn’t care. She slid two fingers in seamlessly, going by Clara’s increasingly intense moans to locate the best possible nerves to stimulate. Clara’s muffled moans only served to annoy Anne further, especially the way Clara salivated in anticipation.
“You take such pride in being called a princess, but you hardly act like one,” she scolded, looking over Clara’s appearance and demeanor. “You’re all moaning and begging and incessantly whining, and you drooled all over my hand too! You don’t say please or thank you, you don’t express gratitude for the way I’m playing with you… If Jasmine is really going to turn you into a dumb princess, why has she not managed to teach you any manners?”
Anne took her hand off of Clara’s mouth, slapping Clara’s cheek with her drool-covered hand. Clara felt so ashamed and degraded, and of course that made her want more. Anne gave her a chance to respond. She did, meekly.
“What… um, how can I start acting more like a princess?” Clara whimpered. “I really, really want to act like one! I want to be the bestest princess I can be!”
“Well for starters, princesses don’t whine and beg and moan like a toddler. They ask politely for permission from those that own them. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes… um… may I try?”
“Good start,” Anne praised, giving an oddly gentle smile to Clara. “Yes, you may try.”
“May… may I c-cum, professor?”
Another slap to the cheek. Clara cried out in pain, the sensation only being accentuated by the amount of pleasure she was feeling.
“So crass and bold.” Anne clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Do you think princesses ever care about cumming? Do you?”
“Well, you’re wrong, and stupid, and probably the dumbest person I’ve ever met then.” Her tone was degrading, but she ended up with a cruel, mocking laugh. Clara’s cheeks flushed even redder as she began uncontrollably grinding into Anne’s fingers, silently begging for more.
“Look at you,” Anne continued. She was demeaning Clara for getting off on this, and Anne didn’t make it any easier on her by continuing to finger her cunt harder and harder. “So needy and desperate. You’re miles away from acting like a princess, dear.” She used her thumb to rub Clara’s clit, making her cry out harder. Her body convulsed as she tried to stop herself from finishing. She couldn’t finish, after all — she didn’t have permission.
“Let’s try again.” Anne held silence for Clara to make another attempt at regal politeness and grace.
“O-okay…” Clara gulped, trying her hardest to form the sentence in her mind. Her mind was so misty, so dense with pink, and she still tried her hardest. “Miss, um, Professor, may… mmmf… may I, ah… please cum?”
“Better,” Anne’s lips were still curled in a disapproving scowl, but she seemed more pleased. She ran her other hand from Clara’s chest back up to her face. Her touch on Clara’s jawline and cheek were more gentle and loving. Yet, they were still so possessive. Almost greedy.
“You’re still missing two things.” She took a meaningful pause, reveling in the way Clara squirmed and whined for release. “One, all that moaning and whimpering has to stop. It’s so tedious and annoying. You don’t want to annoy me, do you?”
Clara shook her head. She said something that might have sounded like, “no, Professor”, but it was completely incomprehensible. Regardless, she tried her hardest to stop moaning so loudly. Soft whimpers and humming came from her lips, especially as her Professor started rubbing harder to push her further to the edge. At least Anne didn’t look as annoyed.
“Second thing,” Anne added, “princesses don’t ask to cum. What a rude thing to ask permission for. Maybe use a word like, ‘finish’, or ‘climax’. Or better yet — don’t ask to cum! Ask me… if I would like you to cum. How does that sound?”
“G-good,” Clara responded, the word long and drawn out as she mixed her wild moans into her speech. She quieted them again immediately.
Clara took a deep inhale, shoving down her breathy moans and asking once again. “Professor… w-would you like me to climax?”
Anne’s scowl finally turned into a satisfied, toothy grin, almost as if she had her own climax just hearing that. Clara almost thought that Anne was ready to let her cum, and she was so, so grateful. She was so close, at the tip of the edge, hanging…
“Count to ten,” she ordered.
“Yes. I want to see if you can still count.” Clara at the very least knew she was being made fun of. Could she even count anymore? She could, right…?
“Y-yes, Professor…” Clara inhaled, and began counting the seconds. “One… t-two… three…”
She could at least count to five. That was for sure. But every second was more agonizing, more stuffed with pleasure. Each second was agonizing in the best possible way as she leaked her arousal onto Anne’s fingers. “F-four… um, five…”
Even just the thought of having to go through five more seconds of edging and denial twisted Clara’s body in knots. She needed to cum. Her mind couldn’t focus on both counting and trying not to finish. Regardless, she tried to continue counting even as Anne cackled at her cruelly.
“Six… umm… seven, I think… oh my god—“ Clara cut herself off, realizing there was no feasible way she could get those last three counts in. She didn’t even know what came after seven, or even how many numbers were in between seven or ten. She couldn’t think — especially not as Anne edged her last few brain cells away.
“Hmm? What’s wrong, princess?” Anne mocked. “Is your brain melting out of your ears? Come on. Be honest.”
“I… I don’t know,” Clara admitted. “I don’t know, Professor!”
“You don’t know what comes after seven? Goodness, Clara, you never cease to amaze — or disappoint me.”
“Please, Professor, please, please, please, please,” Clara couldn’t say words anymore. She couldn’t form any sort of coherent thought. All she could think about was how much she needed to finish. She needed climax — that was all she needed.
“So stupid and silly,” Anne laughed, beginning to choke Clara’s airway again. That only made it worse.
“Fine, go ahead and cum. Cum like your life depends on it, princess.”
Clara gladly took that order. As she climaxed, her entire body thrusting back and forth, she convulsed and shivered and begged for more. She came so hard she felt like she blacked out, like her mind completely stopped working. Her last few brain cells somehow kept her grounded to her body. Her eyes rolled back. She didn’t just have one orgasm; she continued thrusting into Anne’s hand, clutching the car seat and gasping for air. She came again, and again, until she couldn’t count how many times she had finished.
She obviously didn’t look very princess like, but Anne didn’t seem to care that much at this point. All Anne cared about was seeing Clara fall victim to her, just the way she fell victim to Jasmine. Clara loved this. She loved being a dainty, ditzy object. She loved the way Anne possessed her like she was a fun sex toy.
She loved being a princess. She loved belonging to people. Simply the thought of ownership, of obedience, pleasure, pink… those thoughts kept her riding through her string of consecutive orgasms.
Her body calmed down — it had to, eventually. Her eyes glazed over back to Anne’s, who grinned at her sadistically. Anne reached her head down, placing a loving kiss on Clara’s lips. She slid her finger into Clara’s lips to lower her jaw and let her have access to her mouth.
Anne tasted her, tasting what was hers, the disgraced princess. Once Anne was satisfied, she pulled back, caressing Clara’s chin. Her eyes were glazed over, worn out from the pleasure.
“Get out,” Anne suddenly ordered. When Clara met her order with confused eyes, Anne elaborated. “Get into the passenger’s seat, I mean.”
Clara somehow complied, dragging her body outside of the car and slowly back in. She slumped over in the seat, glancing at Anne as Anne stepped into the driver’s seat. As she began to turn on the engine and back up from the parking lot, Clara checked her watch. There were only 30 minutes until her curfew. Her heart dropped. She absolutely could not piss Jasmine off after Jasmine was so kind to give her this freedom.
“P-Professor, I have to go… um…”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, a curfew or something?” Without looking at Clara, Anne put a hand on Clara’s thigh and squeezed it. She grinned again as she drove off into the street. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Jasmine won’t mind if I play with you just a bit more.”
Clara nodded. That seemed so easy to accept, even though Clara knew that Jasmine would probably scold her at best and punish her at worst. But she couldn’t think of a proper rebuttal or argument, and simply hummed a happy tune in agreement. A glow washed over her, a post-sex glow of some sort — the same happy feeling she would get after being obedience-trained like an animal.
Jasmine probably wouldn’t mind. Though, Clara began to think through the pink mist. How did Anne know Jasmine, anyways? And why was she so… bitter? What Jasmine was doing wasn’t wrong in any way, at least to Clara. So why was it such a problem to Anne?
She wanted to ask. Anne seemed to notice something was on Clara’s mind and interrupted her.
“Don’t worry. I just want to train you a bit more, myself…”