Lifestyle Journalism Ii Ch 03

At first, Vivienne was entirely quiet and calm. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so utterly at peace with herself. Normally, her entire life felt like a battle. There were endless pressures, buzzing around her like flies. Not now. She was perfectly still. Perfectly relaxed. Vivienne was conscious of nothing but a gentle, rhythmic purr she could feel throughout her entire body. It seemed to be coming from beneath her.

Then came a noise so loud, urgent, and uncomfortably familiar, it pierced through her calm and dragged Vivienne unwillingly back to awareness.

It took her a long moment to remember that the sound was her phone ringing.

The ringing ceased, but it was too late. Vivienne blearily opened her eyes and, after the blurry haze resolved into a set of distinct images, realized she was sitting in the back of a limo. Somehow, at first, it didn't occur to Vivienne to question that. It simply seemed right.

"Oh look! She's, like, waking up."

"So she is. Welcome back, sleepyhead."

Vivienne looked up and saw Melanie Adams sitting opposite her. She blinked. She looked to one side and saw Emma sitting next to her, in all her pink, bimbo glory. She blinked again, then blushed.

Emma. It was really her. It hadn't all been a dream.

Vivienne's embarrassingly eager adoration for the bimbo hadn't been diminished by their meeting. If anything, she was more starstruck than ever. The CEO sat up straight and tried to hide her blush by rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"I apologize," she said blearily, hoping to recapture a little dignity. "I must have... well, I suppose I've been putting in some long hours lately."

"I understand," Mel replied, offering a sympathetic smile.

Vivienne nodded gratefully, then looked out of the window. She frowned as the realities of the situation began to set in.

"Where are we going?" she asked. She had no memory of getting in a car or agreeing to anything.

"We're going shopping!" Emma squealed gleefully. "We're gonna get you, like, a whole bunch of new outfits."

"That's right," Mel added, a strange look in her eyes. "You remember, don't you?"

Suddenly, she did. As Mel spoke, the memory was lifted out of the heavy fog that seemed to surround Vivienne's mind. Remembering that, though, only prompted more questions.

"Right," she agreed slowly. "But... why?"

Mel's smile was beginning to look faintly condescending. "We were talking about how stressed and overworked you are. About how you need to make some changes and learn to relax. And since we're friends, we decided I'd help you out by taking you shopping. Remember?"

Vivienne nodded. It was all coming back to her now, and it was just as Mel said. "Right," she repeated, rubbing her head. "Goodness. I really must be tired."

"Don't worry," Mel told her. "We can fix that."

As they spoke, another memory was coming back to Vivienne. This one, unprompted, was far less concrete. It was a mere impression, accompanied by a faint, inexplicable sense of loss. Guided by it, Vivienne found herself reaching up toward the pocket in which she normally wore her pocket watch.

It was gone.

"Looking for this?" Mel asked.

Vivienne looked up and, to her shock, saw that Mel was holding her most prized possession, the very symbol of her prowess as a mind controller, dangling between her fingers.

Vivienne frowned deeply. Mel having it seemed right, somehow, but she couldn't remember why. That troubled her.

"Why do you have that?" she asked warily. Perhaps something was afoot. Some kind of plot to entrap her and weaken her mind.

"Don't you remember?" Mel replied. "Whoever's holding this is in charge. That's how it works, isn't it? And since I'm the one who's taking you out shopping, I'm in charge. That means I hold the pocket watch. Isn't that right?"

"Oh." Vivienne steadily relaxed. "Right."

It was all coming back to her now.

"I can't believe I forgot my own rules like that," she apologized again. "I just can't seem to get my head off my pillow today."

Mel threw a grin at Emma. Her pet bimbo was giggling helplessly. Vivienne couldn't imagine at what.

"That's perfectly OK," Mel assured her. "Just as long as you're clear on how this all works." She gestured to the pocket watch again.

"Of course," Vivienne promised. "You've got the watch. You're in charge."

Before Vivienne could figure out why that was bothering her so much, her phone started ringing again. Reflexively, Vivienne slipped the phone out of her pocket and made to answer it.

"Stop," Mel instructed sharply.

Vivienne froze. She flashed Mel a dissatisfied look.

"Don't answer it," Mel told her. "You're not doing any work today. This shopping trip is all about relaxing and having fun with a makeover. No business."

Vivienne couldn't help but feel uneasy with that. Her phone was still ringing. She looked down at the caller ID. It was work, of course. Her CFO was calling.

"It could be important," she protested.

"They can manage without you for one day," Mel retorted. "But you? You desperately need to blow off some steam, Vivienne. Don't answer."

For a long moment, Vivienne languished in indecision. It was true that, probably, her people could cope. Vivienne couldn't imagine that anything disastrous was happening. But equally, as CEO, her sign-off was needed on all kinds of decisions, and her leadership style ensured that none of her underlings would be willing to move forward on anything without her. By not taking this phone call, Vivienne was likely causing her company a serious headache. It was in opposition to her entire long-held personal and professional ethos.

But Mel had the pocket watch. She was in charge. That was the rule.

"Fine," Vivienne acceded. She declined the call.

Listening to Mel felt strange. It didn't sit quite right with Vivienne. After all, Mel was her rival. Vivienne despised what she represented. She was still determined to hypnotize Mel and break her to her will - eventually. But for now, Vivienne had to follow the rules. As scrambled as her memory was, she could at least remember that much.

But it was more than just that. Vivienne was surprised to find that she was taking a strange comfort in following Mel's orders. It was a novel experience, she supposed. A welcome break from having to decide everything for herself. She glanced across at Emma, giggling happily again. Was this how she felt all the time? Every day? Vivienne wasn't sure what to make of the fact that she felt much, much more envy than she did contempt.

Maybe her plans could afford to take a back seat. Maybe letting Mel take the lead for just one day wasn't so bad.

"Wow!" Emma exclaimed at Mel through her giggles. "Oh my god, that thing, like, totally worked, huh?"

Mel couldn't suppress a grin of her own as she looked back at her girlfriend. "It really did."

"What did?" Vivienne asked irritably. Mel was in charge, yes, but that didn't mean Vivienne liked being talked around.

"Nothing," Mel swiftly assured her. She glanced at the cell phone Vivienne was still holding. "Actually, Vivienne, you should turn that off before it rings again."

Vivienne pulled a face. The thought of being out of touch filled her with anxiety. She'd already missed half a dozen calls. There was something exciting about it too, though. Like she was a child again, skipping class.

Not that how she felt really mattered. Not while Mel had the pocket watch.

"Very well," she agreed. Vivienne switched her phone off and tucked it back in her pocket.

"Good." Mel's grin widened. "Look, we're here."

Right on cue, the limo pulled over to park. Looking out the window, Vivienne could see that they had driven to the city's high-end shopping district. The kind of place only elite hypnogarchs and their most favored servants could afford to shop. Vivienne had been there once or twice, although mostly she relied on her brainwashed assistants to do her shopping for her. She simply didn't have the time.

As they stepped out of the car, Mel checked her own phone before turning to Emma and Vivienne. "I hate to bring down the mood, but it looks like I actually have a couple of calls I need to take," she said. "My mothers. Work stuff. Emma, why don't you take Vivienne around?"

"Oh-em-gee!" Emma squealed, while Vivienne blinked in surprise. "Really? I can pick out her stuff?"

"Of course," Mel replied indulgently. "It'll be a nice treat - for both of you. Besides, I'm sure Vivienne is just dying for the two of you to get a little one-on-one time."

Vivienne's heart skipped a beat. The way Mel said that was alarming. It was almost as if she knew. But no. No, that was impossible.

"Well, yes, I'm sure it'll be lovely to... to get to know one another," Vivienne replied lamely, fighting to keep her face neutral. Emma giggled some more.

"Yeah!" the bimbo exclaimed. Without warning, she locked arms with Vivienne. "We'll be, like, besties in no time."

Vivienne could have fainted from sheer, starstruck joy.

"Oh, before you get going," Mel added, "Emma, you'd better take this."

A distinct shiver raced down Vivienne's spine as she watched Mel hand Vivienne's pocket watch over to Emma.

Emma was in charge now.

Vivienne could certainly think of worse things than that. It was like a fantasy come to life.

"Come on!" Emma cried out, already tugging at Vivienne's arm. "Let's get going! We've got soooo much shopping to do."

It was like being caught in a whirlwind. Pocket watch and rules notwithstanding, Vivienne was powerless to keep herself from being unceremoniously dragged around the shopping district. Emma's giddy, gleeful, irrepressible energy was impossible to resist. Vivienne found herself breathing hard as Emma pulled her at a jog from one store to the next, from aisle to aisle, gushing over different items of clothing. Suddenly, she had a new thing to envy Emma for: her fitness. Thanks to all that exercise, Emma seemed to have endless breath to spare for gushing over different clothes and how they might look on Vivienne. It was all Vivienne could do to nod agreeably and try to keep her head from spinning.

But there was one thing she couldn't help noticing: all the clothes Emma insisted on looking at and buying were pink.

"I... I'm just not sure this is really my color," Vivienne offered diplomatically, as Emma held something up against her body for inspection. She truly hated disagreeing with her idol, but she felt she had to say something.

"Yes, it is!" Emma replied, somewhat indignantly, and with such force Vivienne couldn't bring herself to argue back. "Pink is the best. It's everyone's color. Duh."

With the matter settled, Emma marched Vivienne over to the cashier to pay for a set of new sports bras and a couple of pairs of leggings - all bright pink. All the clothes they bought - lingerie, workout clothes, a few casual outfits - were so garish and so revealing that Vivienne could never have seen herself wearing them. But she quickly found she didn't regret any of the purchases. Quite the opposite. Emma's joy for all things pink was proving truly infectious. The more they shopped, the more Vivienne could sense her own feelings softening.

She couldn't help it. Emma loved pink, and Vivienne wanted to be like Emma.

It was impossible not to. She had everything Vivienne didn't. She was joyful, carefree, and completely unselfconscious in her happiness. More and more, Vivienne found herself dwelling on the strange envy and longing she felt toward the bimbo. Maybe Emma and Mel were right. Maybe a makeover was exactly what she needed. A few lifestyle changes to bring everything into balance.

All so she could keep pursuing her corporate ambitions, of course. Eventually.

Besides those deeper ruminations, there was, of course, a much simpler form of pleasure to be taken in their little shopping expedition: Vivienne was Emma's biggest fan, and she was having her favorite bimbo porn star of all time pick out clothes for her.

It was a dream come true.

Slowly but surely, Vivienne started leaning into it. She joined her voice to Emma's as they squealed over cute outfits. She started suggesting things for herself - always pink, of course. It was fun. More fun than she'd expected. And Emma seemed so pleased with her whenever she did. Soon enough, the two of them were like peas in a pod, giggling over cute clothes and the flashy new outfits they were putting together. Vivienne was having the time of her life - even if Emma did keep pushing at her boundaries of modesty a little.

"Are... you sure?" Vivienne asked gingerly, indicating a pink pencil skirt Emma had picked out that was far, far too short to be deserving of the name. "There's got to be a longer one around here somewhere."

She knew Emma was keen for her to have it, and so she half-expected the bimbo to reach for the pocket watch and assert her authority. Instead, Emma simply leaned in close and fixed her with the most devastating puppy-eyes stare Vivienne had ever seen.

"Aw, c'mon!" Emma pleaded. "Don't you, like, think it'll look good?"

"I..." Already, Vivienne could feel herself melting.

"It's just soooo perfect." Emma's eyes were practically glistening. "Please?"

"F-fine," Vivienne found herself saying. She was helpless to resist Emma.

"Yay!" Emma brightened at once, before marching off towards the cashier.

It always played out that way, no matter how risqué the item. Lacy thongs, slutty bras, ridiculous heels - in the end, Vivienne fell prey to them all. It was a strange feeling. Usually, Vivienne always got her way. She was a CEO. A leader. A hypnogarch. Someone who'd clawed her way up from ignominy. She wasn't used to being such a pushover. Yielding to Emma's will just felt so easy. So natural. Whenever she tried to muster an objection to the kinds of clothes the bimbo was picking out, her head turned foggy and hazy, and the right words simply wouldn't come. Simultaneously, the temptation to giggle and smile and just say 'yes' grew and grew.

Now and then, as they shopped, Vivienne wondered if she should be worried about the fact that she felt so hazy, or that she was proving to be so weak-willed. But each time she decided - no. It was just a harmless shopping trip. Nothing more.

Besides, Emma had Vivienne's pocket watch, and that meant she was in charge - and that was Vivienne's own rule! How could anything be amiss?

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, once Vivienne's arms were aching from the now-huge shopping bags she was carrying around, Emma led her to the changing room of a particularly up-market boutique. It was the kind of place where the changing room really was a room of its own, with luxurious couches and soft, flattering lighting, and where the staff would bring glasses of champagne on request.

"Finally," Vivienne sighed, slumping onto one of the couches. "I could use a moment to catch my breath."

"Nope!" Emma admonished, still a wellspring of excitement. "No time! Cause it's time to, like, try on some of these adorable outfits."

Vivienne groaned, but good-naturedly. Emma truly was irresistible. Vivienne hauled herself back to her feet and, as Emma indicated, stepped up to the mirror.

"Oh, yeah," Emma giggled. "This is gonna be soooo much better."

A shiver of anticipation raced down Vivienne's spine, and the CEO giggled nervously.

"Right!" Emma exclaimed, before scrunching up her face like she was struggling to concentrate. "How was I supposed to do it... um... Vivienne, you should just, like, stand there and let me undress you, m'kay?"

"Oh!" Vivienne blushed a little. "Um. OK."

"And... let's see..." Emma had the distinct look of an actress who'd forgotten her lines. It was kind of endearing. "While I'm doing that, I want you to, like, look straight ahead at the mirror. And just, like... look at yourself. Got it?"

"Sure." Just as Emma instructed, Vivienne turned to face the mirror and looked at her own reflection.

At once, Vivienne was struck by just how radical a departure from her typical wardrobe her new clothes were going to be. The clothes she was currently wearing were, like all her clothes, dark, formal, and classy. That morning, Vivienne had dressed herself in one of her normal work outfits: an expensive, finely-tailored, black suit jacket with matching pants, a white shirt beneath, some stylish but sensible flats, and a few pieces of designer jewelry to accentuate the look.

She looked good. Very good, in fact. Vivienne looked fashionable, wealthy, intelligent and powerful. All-in-all, it suited her perfectly - and yet, Vivienne couldn't help but be struck by how plain and joyless her fashion now seemed compared to what Emma wore each and every day.

"So, like," Emma began. She spoke with the air of someone who was about to launch into something they'd rehearsed. "Isn't it funny how some people say that the stuff we wear is, like, part of our... um... our identities?"

Vivienne laughed a little at the way Emma was struggling. "I suppose so," she agreed. "I've heard people say that, yes."

"Yeah!" Emma said excitedly. "I mean, Mel always says stuff like that. But I dunno. To me, it just sounds, like, silly. What does it even mean? It's like... like what clothes you put on makes you who you are, or something?"

Vivienne let out another laugh. She felt lucky just to be here, with her star, Emma, listening to her speak like this. Being able to bathe in her presence was just as wonderful as she could have hoped.

"How does that even work?" Emma pouted. "I mean, c'mon! Like, what, you just put some different clothes on, and suddenly you're a whole new girl? That's so silly!"

Her voice was especially delightful. Vivienne felt like she could listen to it forever - that lilting bimbo voice, rising at the end of every sentence, free of even the slightest hint of stress or shame. For a long time now, listening to Emma on her videos or audio recordings had been a source of comfort for Vivienne. In person, it was even more relaxing.

"But... I guess maybe I do kinda get it," Emma reconsidered, tilting her head. "I mean, look at me! I'm a total girly ditz, and all I wear is stuff that's pink and pretty! So that makes sense, kinda. And you? You're like this... this serious, smart, big-time business lady! So you wear suits and stuff. It all matches." She giggled. "Isn't it funny when you see it like that?"

Vivienne giggled along with her. It just felt natural. She was in such a good mood. Being with Emma, like this, made her feel so light and fluffy. It helped, strangely, to know that Emma was holding her pocket watch. Emma was in charge. For some reason, that made Vivienne feel very safe.

"Still." Emma's brow furrowed slightly. "It's weird to think about how, like, if that's how it works, then when you take off your clothes, it's like... it's like... it's like you're taking off who you are. You know?"

"I'm... not sure... that's how it works," Vivienne replied bemusedly, and was surprised at how distant and absent her own voice sounded. It was as if, just by listening to Emma, she'd drifted off into a kind of waking sleep.

"I guess maybe not," Emma conceded brightly. "But! You never know. Maybe it's just, like, something for you to think about, while you're getting changed."

As she spoke, Emma gave a cutesy little flourish that, it just so happened, placed Vivienne's pocket watch in the palm of her hand. Vivienne could only watch in the mirror as the bimbo fastened the watch to a gold chain necklace she plucked from her purse, and then clasped it around her neck like an amulet. With Emma wearing the symbol of authority, her words seemed to stroke Vivienne's very soul.

"Let's get started," Emma announced. "Remember: just, like, stand there, and watch."

Vivienne nodded numbly. She stood on the spot and watched herself in the mirror. Emma's reflection was behind hers, and her eyes were drawn to the pocket watch around her neck. Its rhythmic ticking was endlessly seductive.