Vivienne Gilbert had to fight with her entire being to keep a neutral expression as she waited in the conference room of her corporate HQ for her guests to arrive. Part of her--most of her--was so furious, it was all but impossible to keep her face darkening into a look of thunderous anger. All night, she'd been stewing in the kind of rage only shame could conjure up. Keeping a lid on it was a struggle, but it wouldn't do to let her emotions show. For a woman of Vivienne's station, there was no telling who might be watching.
Another part of her, though, the part Vivienne was straining most of all to keep suppressed, urged a broad, bright, dumb grin to dawn across her face. That part of Vivienne was sneaky. It ambushed her whenever she was distracted. Whenever she let her mind wander. Whenever a stray thought crossed her mind: a memory, a feeling, a mantra.
A name. That ridiculous name.
Vivienne was constantly trying to keep herself centered and calm, to rein in her anger, to take deep, measured breaths--but whenever she did, it was right there; that sticky, pink headspace, threatening to claim her once again. Vivienne felt like she was walking on a tightrope, and it was so damn hard to keep her balance.
Especially given what she was wearing.
So far, the best method Vivienne had found to keep herself under control was to focus on her imminent revenge. She'd spent a long, frenzied night making plans and dreaming up sordid, vengeful fantasies. That mindset had a matching facial expression too: a malicious, sadistic, superior smirk. While it wouldn't do to tip off her intended victims, Vivienne didn't mind letting that one show through from time to time.
It was the right look for a hypnogarch--and that was exactly what Vivienne was. A mind controller. A leader. A dominant. She wouldn't forget it. And nor would anybody else.
"Ms. Gilbert," one of her many brainwashed subordinates called out, opening the door a crack and sticking her head through. "Your guests have arrived. They're on their way up."
"Thank you." Vivienne knew that her minions, at least, wouldn't judge her for the way she looked. They weren't capable of it. "Send them right in."
"Yes, Ms. Gilbert."
The door closed. Vivienne took a moment to arrange her face one last time, into a vacant, dull, entirely nonthreatening smile. She did her best not to think about how easy it was.
Then, no more than a minute later, the door to the conference room opened again. Melanie Adams stepped through.
Vivienne shivered at the sight of her pocket watch, worn around Mel's neck like a pendant.
That aside, Vivienne was pleased to see that Mel seemed completely at ease and unguarded. If anything, she looked a touch smug. Already confident in her victory. That was part of Vivienne's plan. She'd had her people invite Mel to the headquarters of Valeyard Solutions, her company, under the pretext of 'talking business'. Probably, Mel assumed that Vivienne was going to cave and accept her parents' offer, just like Mel had primed her to.
Everything was proceeding just as she'd planned.
"Hi, Vivi," Mel greeted her, grinning. "You look great."
Vivienne had to really try not to visibly shiver with treasonous pleasure at the name and the compliment.
The ridiculous outfit Vivienne was wearing was all part of her plan, of course. That was the reason she'd gotten dressed up in the pink, slutty, faux-business outfit Emma had bought for her the day before. The only reason. If she was wearing her normal clothes, Vivienne had reasoned, it might tip off Mel right away. It was just what she had to do.
But that didn't make it any easier to deal with how it made her feel.
Vivienne pushed down on the feeling. This was her moment of triumph. Soon, all that would be behind her.
"Hello, Mel," she said smoothly, once the door closed and locked behind the other woman. The look of surprise on Mel's voice as she registered the focused, alert tone of Vivienne's voice was a delicious reward. "I'm flattered you think so. But soon enough, I think you'll find that you'll be the one to... to..."
Vivienne's words faded away as Emma, Mel's pet bimbo girlfriend, stepped out from behind her owner.
A little whine slipped out from Vivienne's throat. It was completely unfair how good Emma looked.
She looked like she had come straight from working out. The sway of her hips was what had Vivienne's attention; Emma was wearing a pair of tiny yoga shorts--pink, naturally--stretched taut around her perfectly sculpted thighs. The way they looked on her made Vivienne throb with yearning. After a long--too long--moment, she made herself raise her eyes. Seeing that, on top, Emma was wearing nothing more than a sports bra stunned her all over again.
The irrepressible, giggling grin on her face and cute pink sweatband across her forehead completed the look. It was one Vivienne had seen over and over again on Emma's OnlyFans. Night after night, time after time, touching herself to the gorgeous bimbo. Even now, Vivienne was struck by how utterly, blissfully happy she seemed.
"Well, where did I go wrong?" Mel asked smoothly. Vivienne cursed herself for giving her rival a chance to regain her balance. "I thought I had you."
"Almost," Vivienne snarled. Now the object of her ire was right in front of her, she could barely constrain her fury. "But you're too much of an amateur. You shouldn't have let me go home, Melanie. Never let a wild animal out of the trap."
Mel simply nodded. "I guess I'll have to remember that."
"Oh, don't trouble yourself!" Vivienne scoffed. "Soon, I'll make sure you don't remember anything at all. Not even your own name. You thought you were going to make me dumb, Mel? I promise you, you don't even know the meaning of the word. Not yet."
She'd hoped Mel would look scared. Instead, she simply seemed disappointed. Perhaps that was why her own boasting felt oddly hollow to Vivienne.
Emma, meanwhile, was completely unperturbed. She barely seemed to be paying attention. She was standing at Mel's side and, as Vivienne watched, she began stretching out a little; first her arms, then her shoulders, then her back. There was something almost cat-like about her. She was completely at ease. Vivienne couldn't help but marvel at it. She'd never been that relaxed anywhere, not even in the safety of her own home.
Except for yesterday, of course.
"So," Mel ventured. "What happens now?"
Vivienne's cheeks burned as she realized that, once again, she'd allowed herself to succumb to distraction.
"Now," she said, rallying, "it's very simple. I'm going to hypnotize you."
Infuriatingly, Mel just smiled. "Didn't you already try that?"
Vivienne's hands balled into fists. Her knuckles turned white.
"That..." she spat. "That was... I was not at my best. This time, it will be different."
"You're at your best?" Mel shot back. "I see. Is that why you're wearing... that?"
Vivienne had been prepared for a jab about her clothing. Being prepared didn't help. It was all she could do to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together. Why did the embarrassment have to sing so sweetly in her ears?
"I... did what I had to do," Vivienne said, making her voice carefully even. "Couldn't have anyone tipping you off early."
One thing Vivienne hadn't been at all prepared for was the chill that raced down her spine when Mel looked her in the eyes and told her: "Bullshit."
The CEO blinked dumbly for a moment. "Excuse me?"
"I don't think that's why you wore that outfit." Mel tilted her head, studying Vivienne. "I don't think that's the reason at all."
Vivienne couldn't hold her gaze. She looked away. "I... that isn't..."
