Chapter 5: Silk, Skin and Secrets
Cassie stood right next to her, a little too close, watching as Ann signed the final page of the contract. The paper was thick, the ink fresh, and with each stroke of the pen, Cassie could almost hear the click of a lock closing.
There it was. Done.
Ann looked up, wide-eyed, her hand trembling slightly as she set the pen down. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Something inside her shifted--something permanent. Like she'd just crossed a line she couldn't un-cross, though she couldn't yet articulate what that meant.
I didn't tell them. Again.
The thought struck harder than she expected. Her parents. She had always told them everything--every test score, every friendship drama, every moment of uncertainty. Until recently. First it was switching from math to art history. Then it was losing her scholarship. Now this.
She could still hear her mother's voice in her head, calm and proud and so sure her daughter was on the right path.
"Ann always does the right thing. She always tells us."
But that version of her daughter didn't exist anymore. She hadn't told them about the job at the bookstore. She hadn't told them about John, or the camera, or the contract she just signed without reading past the first few pages.
And now... she didn't think she could tell them at all.
Her stomach churned. Was this who she was now? Someone who made life-altering decisions behind closed doors and smiled like she was okay?
Cassie's arm slid around her shoulders, fingers brushing her collarbone in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive.
"You did it," she said, voice low and sweet. "You're official. No more tests, no more tiptoeing. You belong now."
Belong.
It sounded so seductive when Cassie said it. So certain. So safe.
But inside, Ann was splintering. She wasn't sure whether she belonged anywhere anymore.
Still, she nodded slowly, lips parting like she wanted to speak--wanted to ask if it was too late to change her mind--but the words wouldn't come. They were trapped behind the tight, burning feeling in her chest.
Cassie didn't push. She never had to. She just waited. Girls like Ann always thought signing was the hardest part. They never realized that was just the beginning.
That's why Cassie lived by one rule:
Hook 'em fast. Reel 'em in before they have time to process what they did.
She gave Ann a gentle squeeze and stepped back, clapping her hands once, softly. "This calls for a celebration. But not just any celebration." She tilted her head, letting her eyes run deliberately over Ann's outfit--plain jeans, worn sneakers, and a faded hoodie with a college logo on it.
"We're going shopping."
Ann blinked. "Shopping?"
Cassie grinned. "You're a signed model now. You can't walk around looking like someone's shy little cousin from orientation week. We need something that turns heads. Something that makes people stop and wonder,
Who is she?
"
Ann's stomach twisted again. She opened her mouth to protest, to say she needed time to think, maybe even to call home--but nothing came. Cassie had a way of making everything sound like a natural next step, a harmless little indulgence.
"Something sexy," Cassie added.
Ann blushed, instinctively tugging her sleeves down over her hands. That word--
sexy
--still felt foreign on her skin, like clothes she hadn't grown into. She could practically hear her mother's voice:
"Modesty is dignity."
"I don't know," she said hesitantly. "I've never really worn anything--"
"That's the point," Cassie cut in gently, placing a hand on her arm. "You've never allowed yourself to. But now you can. Now you should."
She dropped her voice to a purr. "Come on. This is your chance to reinvent everything. You've already taken the first step. Don't stop now."
Ann hesitated.
Was this really her decision? Or had she just been swept along--nudged and coaxed until she was saying yes to things she didn't even understand?
Her guilt flared again. She'd promised herself she'd tell her parents
next time
. Next time something big happened. And then she'd blown right past that promise. Again.
But Cassie's voice was so soothing, her smile so genuine. And she made Ann feel brave. Like this new path wasn't a mistake, but a calling.
"And afterward," Cassie added casually, "we'll grab dinner. Somewhere nice. Maybe a place with candlelight and overpriced cocktails. And then..." She smiled. "We're going out."
Ann looked up, startled. "Out?"
Cassie nodded, her tone soft but firm. "There's a new club across town. Very chic. Very exclusive. Everyone who's anyone in this scene ends up there. The lighting makes your skin glow, the DJ only plays the kind of music that makes people move like they've forgotten they're being watched. It's the kind of place where you don't just arrive--you
arrive
."
It sounded like a fantasy. Like a dream someone else would live. Someone bolder. Someone unrecognizable.
Ann bit her lip. "I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of--"
"You don't have to be ready," Cassie said gently. "That's why I'm here. I'll be with you. Every step. I just want people to see the new you."
Ann searched her eyes for reassurance. Cassie gave it to her effortlessly. She always did. She always
knew
what Ann needed to hear. It made it easy to believe this was all about her. That
she
was in control. That these were her choices.
But Cassie knew better. Cassie was always steering, even when she let Ann think she was driving.
That was the beauty of it. Girls like Ann needed to feel like they had power--like they were owning their transformation. And Cassie would let her feel that, for now. Because she knew what was coming. The shoots, the parties, the scenes. Ann wasn't just a bookstore clerk anymore. She was on her way to becoming something far more profitable.
Ann exhaled slowly. "Okay... yeah. Let's do it."
Cassie's eyes sparkled.
She slung her bag over one shoulder and reached for Ann's hand, pulling her gently toward the door. "Trust me," she said with a grin. "This is going to be fun."
And it would be. For Cassie, at least.
Because she could already see it: Ann in something tight and sheer, every inch of her painted in confidence she hadn't earned yet. People watching, whispering, wanting. Ann would bask in it, uncertain but hungry, and Cassie would be right there behind her, whispering in her ear what to say, how to move, how to be.
This was how it worked. You feed them bits of boldness until they start to crave it. And once they've tasted the power of being seen, they'll follow you anywhere.
Cassie pushed open the studio door, letting the sunlight pour in. Ann laughed at something she said--light and genuine, like they were just two friends on a spontaneous outing. And in a way, they were. Except only one of them knew what the outing was really about.
As they stepped into the afternoon light, arms brushing, smiles wide, they looked like old friends, laughing their way toward an ordinary day.
No one watching would guess what Cassie was turning Ann into.
Not yet.
The boutique Cassie led her into sat nestled on a quiet corner of a street that screamed understated luxury. Its exterior was minimalist--frosted windows, a single gold-lettered name across the glass--but inside, it bloomed with decadence. Spotlights shimmered off silk, leather, sequins. There was no clearance rack. No size guides posted on the walls. Just mannequins in impossible poses wearing less fabric than the average scarf.
Ann froze just past the threshold, instinctively tugging at the hem of her hoodie. "I... I've never been in a place like this."
Cassie smiled without looking at her, already sweeping through racks with a predator's grace. "Exactly why I brought you here."
Everything in the store was sexy. Not flirty or playful--this was unapologetic, weaponized sensuality. Deep plunges, high slits, fabrics so sheer they dared you to look. Ann trailed behind Cassie, trying not to gawk. She felt like a tourist in someone else's life.
Cassie didn't need to glance back to know how overwhelmed Ann was. It was written in the stiffness of her arms, the small, uncertain steps. Perfect.
"Here," Ann said, plucking a shimmery red mini-dress off the rack. It had long sleeves and a modest neckline, though the fabric was clingy. "This one's kind of fun."
Cassie turned slowly. Her smile was polite but edged. "Sweetheart, that's something your RA might wear to a Valentine's party."
Ann flushed and put it back. She reached for another--navy halter, knee-length, still daring in its own way. Cassie said nothing. Just a raised eyebrow and a quick turn away, already dismissing it.
It went on like that. Ann kept reaching for dresses that felt like stepping just slightly outside her comfort zone. But Cassie kept pushing farther. Harder. Letting Ann reject herself before Cassie had to lift a finger. That was the trick--Cassie knew the kill came easier when the prey walked into the trap on its own.
Finally, Cassie sighed as if bored of the performance and walked to the far corner of the boutique. A single display stood there, like an altar. She pulled a black dress off the mannequin. If it could even be called a dress.
It was obscene.
The neckline plunged all the way to the navel, held together only by a knot behind the neck. The back was scooped out so far that the top of the ass was visible, with a hemline that flirted with indecency. The black silk glistened like water under moonlight, clinging to every fantasy it promised.
Ann stared. "You can't be serious."
Cassie stepped closer, holding it between them like a sacred object. "You want to turn heads? This won't just turn them--it'll snap necks."
Ann swallowed. Her instincts screamed no. She wanted something bold, sure--but not... this. And definitely not without underwear.
"Cassie, I don't think I can--"
Cassie's voice softened like velvet. "You don't think you can. But that's the old Ann talking." She placed the dress in Ann's hands, her tone low, persuasive. "Try it on. Just for fun."
Ann hesitated. Just for fun. She could feel the hooks in those words. But her hand closed around the fabric anyway.
The dressing room was a plush velvet box. Gold mirror. Soft lighting. Ann stared at herself in the half-light, hugging the dress to her chest, heart pounding.
What am I doing?
This wasn't her. Or was it? She wasn't even sure anymore.
She stepped out a few minutes later, hugging her arms across her chest. "I... kept my underwear on," she said quickly. "It felt too... exposed."
Cassie stood, her eyes raking over her. The effect was stunning. The dress didn't just hug Ann's figure--it consumed it, poured over it like a liquid secret. Every curve, every suggestion of skin, was framed perfectly. But the panty lines broke the spell.
Cassie let out a soft laugh--not cruel, but sharp. "Oh, honey. This dress doesn't allow for underwear."
Ann tensed. "But--"
Cassie stepped behind her, voice like silk. "You're already wearing something no one else could pull off. Don't ruin it with hesitation."
She gently tugged the waistband showing through the silk. "Off. Trust me."
