This is a spin-off short story for the Faria character from my "Freelancer" series of stories. If you want to see how Faria conducts longer-term, more complex hypnotic plots while she's on the clock, check out that series. "Miss Udders" is a great place to start!
...
"I have a one o'clock appointment under the name of Faria," said the slim, elegant woman, smiling wearily at the cute girl at the reception desk.
The petite redhead behind the desk checked the sheet in front of her briefly, gave Faria a professional nod, and said "Of course, ma'am. Welcome. I'll let Jean know you're here. She should be with you in a moment."
"Thank you, dear," said Faria. She had dressed simply today, with flowing pants shrouding her long, slim legs and a dark halter top exposing her graceful arms and leaving the smooth, honey-colored skin of her back bare. Turning from the reception desk, the tired, stressed hypnotist collapsed gracefully into one of the plush waiting room chairs with a deep sigh and draped a hand over her eyes.
Faria's life was in many ways unique. With the power of her hypnotic voice, she could avoid any annoyance, and have anything she wanted. She had lived that life once. For years Faria had taken whatever she wanted the instant she wanted it. Utter hedonism without end.
But Faria had learned the hard way that pleasure was bland and tasteless without the seasoning of risk and disappointment. Having any man or woman she wanted with a whisper grew tedious. They all blurred together.
So Faria had found a new way. She created a series of strict self-limiting rules that she abided by. She now only used her hypnotic voice for the benefit of her clients, never herself, and even then followed a strict protocol for selecting people to assist. The client must have been genuinely wronged by their target. The target must always get the chance to reverse the punishment. And most importantly, the circumstances had to excite Faria.
The rules reintroduced a small measure of uncertainty and annoyance into Faria's life; just enough to make the rest of it sweeter by comparison.
But allowing petty disappointments and stress into her life did mean that frustrations occasionally piled up. This week had not gone well. Two potential clients had made up crimes done to them by their targets, which was always a waste of time and effort.
To make matters worse, authorities had become suspicious unusually quickly about one of Faria's projects on the East Coast, and she had been forced to move operations sooner than expected. She had even been forced to cancel a planned evening with Madeline, one of her most cherished sex friends, much to both of their disappointment.
The week spent hastily moving, with no thrilling clients and no rendezvous, had left Faria not just stressed, but sexually frustrated--a rare and unpleasant condition for someone as charming and dominant as her. But one advantage of being in Southern California again was the ability to visit Jean's salon, and a relaxing few hours with her shining black hair under Jean's expert care was precisely what Faria needed right now.
Faria had been waiting only a few moments when a woman flung open the door from the outside, chattering on her cell phone as she strode toward the reception desk.
Faria's life was so erotically charged that her first instinct when seeing someone for the first time was to evaluate them sexually. This young woman had potential. She had the sort of fake, glossy attractiveness that said she made her living from her looks. That sort of artificial beauty was off-putting on a lot of women, but it worked well for this girl.
The glossy beauty had long, sleek, dyed-blond hair, a deep bronze tan, and blindingly white teeth. She wore a tiny, cute pair of jean shorts that showed off her slim, athletic legs and a cutoff top that displayed a tantalizing stripe of firm, tanned belly. Large dark sunglasses shrouded her face above her pouty pink lips, which were currently thinned in an expression of annoyance.
She was a hot little piece of ass to be sure, but Faria judged her immediately as probably too self-centered to be much fun in bed.
The young woman swept up to the reception desk, ending her phone call with a snapped: "Fine. Take care of it then." Instead of looking up at the receptionist, she frowned down at her phone, her thumbs moving rapidly over the screen as she spoke. "I need to see Jean. Now." Her voice was high and feminine, but without any warmth or grace.
Faria could see the resigned look on the receptionist's face from across the room. This clearly wasn't their first encounter. "I'm sorry Miss Kay, but that won't be possible today," said the small redheaded receptionist in a tone that made it clear she expected an angry retort at any moment. "Jean is with a client currently, and our next appointment is already..."
"Wait... you're joking, right?" interrupted the young woman with a chilly smile. She took off her sunglasses to reveal deep blue eyes and an artful dusting of freckles. "These other clients, do they have over a hundred thousand followers on FlicPix? Were they rated top influencer of 2022?" The redheaded receptionist maintained an uncomfortable silence as the rude woman glared at her.
The blonde woman leaned over the counter with a sneer and said in a tight furious voice: "Those other clients aren't Jemma fucking Kay, and I don't give a shit if they miss their hair appointment. And neither should Jean."
The redheaded receptionist tried to put on a brave face, but Jemma Kay was clearly someone who intimidated her. "E-even so, Ms. Kay, they made their appointments, and we can't just cancel them. It would be..."
Jemma was already walking away, towards the door to the back area of the salon. "I don't have time to argue with idiots today, my hair is a fucking mess," she muttered venomously, tossing her seemingly flawless silvery blonde hair over her shoulder as she barged into Jean's workspace.
Faria grimaced. She was in no mood for this. She glanced at the clock. Already past her appointment time. And now Jean would have to have a showdown with this exhausting little bitch before Faria's appointment could even begin. To pass the time, Faria opened Flicpix. She wasn't a big fan of the app: she thought it was a symptom of today's vapid society. But it had come up in one of her projects a few months ago, so she did have an account.
Jemma Kay... Yes, it did appear that she was a popular content creator on the platform. Her online persona was vastly different than the cold, entitled young woman she had just seen in the salon. A bright, enthusiastic Jemma danced on Faria's screen with a shiny smile, her tanned body moving rhythmically to a song that Faria's silenced phone wasn't playing.
A fake, vapid girl who believed she was better than Faria. A pretty little bitch that thought that her shallow internet fame made her special and untouchable. It was exactly the type of person that Faria once would have relished breaking, watching their smug pride drain from their eyes, replaced by humble obedience.
But Faria didn't do that kind of thing anymore. Her rules were important. She couldn't hypnotize anyone unless it was for the benefit of a client. Even if it would be deliciously satisfying to teach Jemma a lesson about respect. Even if she really desperately needed a way to relieve some stress and sexual frustration right now. A video on her screen showed Jemma applying mascara with a cute little lopsided smile, probably shilling a product. Faria looked up at the receptionist, who was still a little shaken from her run-in with the nightmare customer.
...Bending the rules wasn't the same as breaking them. And God, she deserved it after the week she had just gone through. Faria rose and approached the receptionist's desk.
