The Pearly One's Stories

This is an archive account of potentially erotic stories. Some are tame, others a bit more explicit. Not ‘adult’ content, but not strictly SFW

[thepearlyone]

Hello! Welcome to my writing blog! Please do scroll through the archives and check out my previous work- or if you're feeling so inclined, shoot me an ASK!

(do not respond to DMs unless you are a VPP)

ALSO- Do let me know if you’d like to see my work, previous or otherwise, elsewhere! be it EMCSA or some other place

[bloomed-and-bunned]

Something about the tenderness of doing one's hair FOR someone- particularly if that someone is either in the chair or the one doing the styling.

'Up.'

A simple direction- perhaps a sharp command, maybe a susurrant whisper on the wind- catching the chair's attention all the same. Their ear and head rise slightly-

'To the left, darling.'

Such tender affection is not normally so intimate nor so paradoxical. These hands could both cause such grievous wounds and peals of pleasure spilling out- and certainly have in both cases.

'There. Perfect.'

An affirmation, though not only so. The one in the chair lifts their head, perking up at the praise- only to be ushered back down by a single finger, pressing calmly against their forehead.

'Drop.'

A hidden meaning ignites, their posture and head quickly slumping as the light fades from their eyes. Utterly back under control, the idea has been sowed- their hairstyle keeps things nice and docile inside that empty head.

Hypnosis can do such wonderful things. But it's always about that relationship.

[thepearlyone]

Saphi's Salon

// This is a story inspired by a good bit of yearning and other things, and for a certain Miss Saphi, who has given me quite a bit to think about. Please enjoy!

I ducked in, trying to find some sort of area to hide- panting endlessly in a futile attempt to catch my breath. It looked like there were a full row of chairs with some people (maybe they were mannequins?) underneath- this had to be some sort of beauty salon. There’s a whole bunch of those big bulbous driers, a full row of them- with one chair open. If I absolutely had to, I could probably duck underneath one of them and try to hide in plain sight. After all, the lights were dim or off when I came in- I could hide as one of their customers. I didn’t yet see any employees- just a little booth where an employee would sit, and the row of customers.

I rushed past them to the back of the room- there were a couple of locked doors, and a window latch that I couldn’t figure out. It’d likely be some sort of janitor or maintenance room in there, and I knew I wouldn’t have enough time to pick a lock- breaking down the door would be too obvious. That meant turning back around-

The salon had a longer row of chairs to the left, all filled- during the rinse period, they might be looking outside the window. To the right, just to the side of the little jetty with the window, there was one open- five total, seat number four open. The chairs seemed to be a soft luxurious leather, at least- and they were plenty plump. Each one had a little lever near it- with the obligatory drier hood underneath that. The open chair looked a little out of place, since its hood was up much higher than the rest- but the lever quickly answered that question.

I did look slightly out of place with just a hoodie and pants, though I hoped that wasn’t an issue. After all, these mannequins all had pretty similar preppy clothing on, and I was repping the Grunge phase a little bit more. I hadn’t meant to rip my pants, but…

It was dim enough without turning on the lights that you probably wouldn’t be able to see it- the logo wasn’t THAT visible, I thought. Just in case, I spent some valuable time turning it inside out- a soft maroon gazing back at me in the reflective glass.

I heard them coming, so I carefully wriggled up onto the chair, trying to do my best to mimic the positions the others were in- attempting to regulate my breathing with slow deep breaths. They all had their hands carefully outstretched, as if they were all balanced perfectly on the wide chair arms- they had puffed leather sections that felt awfully comfortable to rest on.

So I did the same, carefully bringing down the lever so I could duck underneath the oblong hood. The lever was just barely out of my reach while sitting on the chair- I had to lean over to bring it down with a very smooth and satisfying hydraulic hiss. I’d definitely have to slink down and out to take it off- underneath the hood’s wide brim.

The hood itself was somewhat oddly shaped on top, almost like the tip of a fruit or an onion- a wide circular base that had a sort of a curvaceous bulb to it, almost like it was large enough to entirely wrap around one’s head. Right where it was, it seemed to be resting enough to cover my face- perfectly hiding me from view.

Great! All I had to do was stay out of sight for a little while, and wait. I slowed down my breathing to match the rhythmic hum of the electricity, the soft pulses of the mechanical tumbling that emanated from everywhere in the building.

I guess I could meditate- focusing on my posture, my position- outside the mannequins seemed to have perfect posture- they had carefully balanced themselves on little green footrests that stuck out from the chair. I very carefully wriggled into a very comfortable position- sitting straight up, yet leaning back into the comfortable leather. I really needed to fit in, to stay hidden.

I must have had a few more moments than I thought, since I could barely hear anything- but I definitely heard someone rush in, opening the door. Those were big stompy boots- kind of rushing around all over. Definitely the sort that hired goons would wear- so I just kept taking nice deep breaths. There was a rhythm to it- focus on maintaining your posture, focus on anything else, keep your mind off of the goons running around and messing stuff up.

Those clomps seemed to quiet, like they maybe lined up to get out of here.

Then, I heard it.

Soft, smooth clicks of heels- steady, right in time with my breathing. Inspecting each of them. Stopping in front of one of them.

Fuck.

I *had* to stay still now- just breathing in time with her steps, carefully maintaining my posture, focusing everything on that.

I hadn’t even noticed that the inside had a soft dark purple glow inside of it- some sort of light display. I just kind of idly stared forward, focusing my effort past it.

She had a commanding presence to her- it was almost like I could sense her hand caress all of the domes in a row. Slowly traipsing her hand down its side, stroking it and whispering something to the mannequin inside.

Then her heels clicked in time, and she moved on to the next one- giving a soft whisper- then the next one. I focused on anything but this- anything but letting me be discovered. Those goons seemed to clomp on over to the next room, and then sit down- maybe they left?  At least they wouldn’t find me… Maybe she was just some sort of maintenance lady, maybe she was just checking on them.

What I didn’t know at the time was that the second I sat down in the chair it was already too late. She had known chair #4 was empty- and she was just toying with me. They all had numerous safety precautions, and she cared for her dolls deeply- one of them was specifically to activate a breathing protocol, a soft relaxing scent that I’d been breathing in- a special formula of hers that most people found deeply hypnotic.

She drew ever closer, and I kept taking deep breaths. Eventually, she moved on, and I could feel the soft stroke of her hand along the salon hood- so delicate yet tender. I shuddered.

“Doll #4.”

“Yes?” I tried my best to imitate what she might be expecting- she called me some sort of doll?

“Good doll.” I finally realized that the interior was also illuminating her words- reflecting ‘good doll’ in purple back at me.

“Thank you.”

“Good doll, so polite.” The interior also glowed it in purple as well- calling me a good doll.

The interior then changed- Yes, Miss Saphi.

She waited- maybe I was supposed to say that?

“Yes, Miss Saphi.”

“Such a good doll!” She cooed oh so softly, stroking the hood again- it felt… nice.

The interior illuminated in soft pleasing purple text- It feels good to obey, Miss Saphi.

“It feels good to obey, Miss Saphi.”

“Very good, you’ve been listening so well.” I almost tensed up- but very carefully maintained my posture. I hoped she didn’t know.

“Doll, I have a question for you.” I carefully let out my breath- the display showing off the response.

“Yes, Miss Saphi.” Soft purple confetti curled around the edges of the display, almost comically rewarding such a response.

“Did anyone come through here, doll?”

The interior was quiet- pulsing with a soft purple light. I… couldn’t stop staring- I knew that saying anything would be a bad idea. It was almost as if it was waiting for the right answer..

She slowly leaned over, seductively whispering again.

“Doll, did anyone come through here?” The interior went quiet again- there was nothing. I felt helpless- maybe if I just-

“Yes Miss Saphi.” The interior burst to life with beautiful swirling purple- like a stream of confetti cascading down its sides.

“Good doll.” Also repeated in the interior- with the reward as well.

“It feels good to obey, Miss Saphi.” I knew by now it was some sort of reward- since it was something that it previously prompted.

“Doll, what is your name?” Shit. I tensed up slightly- I couldn’t help it this time, and I didn’t know what it would even prompt. The purple tauntingly swirled, not providing any easy answers.

She noticed, cooing softly while clearly grinning with victory.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

The interior glowed a much harsher purple- egging on the response- Yes, Miss Saphi.

The words came- somewhat unbidden, but not unpleasurable.

“Yes, Miss Saphi.”

“Good doll.” I shuddered- since when did it feel so good?

“Engage puff protocol.”

I yelped softly- a soft puffy air collar quickly wrapping around my neck and beginning to inflate- firmly blocking out any other light except that of the salon hood. I understood now that it also functioned as some sort of helmet- there was some sort of comfortable leather in the back that kept my head in the right position to see the display.

I tried to jolt up, but soft restraints had risen from the chair to trap my legs and forearms. She daintily wrapped her hand around one of my wrists, and it fell limp under her command. The other one strained carefully-

“Ah ah ah, careful, dear- you can’t take it off- you’re not done yet.” Her grasp was calm, soothing, restrained, demure- yet powerful.

I heard my voice calmly repeat the words- Yes Miss Saphi.

“Good doll.” Another confetti display as I felt the soft heat of pleasure swell. I relaxed a bit more- assuming that posture I’d focused on, feeling better the less I focused on the restraints.

“It feels good to obey, Miss Saphi.” I gasped- not sure how this happened, but it already felt wonderful. And it was true- it really felt good.

“Very good- such a quick learner. I’m not sure how you got in here, but you’re not taking that hood off for a good long while. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Miss Saphi.” She rested a hand against my groin and I moaned softly- it was soft, gentle pressure. Just enough to show what was already there, how much I’d already surrendered, and the pleasure that more could bring…

“Good doll. We’ll see about getting you something nice and pretty to wear to replace those… clothes.” There was some form of disdain behind her words, like I wasn’t wearing something proper- and as weird as it felt, I really didn’t want to disappoint her. A twinge of disappointment flowed through, whining for me to replace it with following and answering, just anything but disappointing her.

“Now, go on, doll. If you tell me how you got in, I’ll… hmm, I’ll give you a reward.”

Something inside my chest leapt at the chance.

So I told her.

She gently kneaded and pressed at different parts of my body, listening eagerly to the story- almost massaging me. I’d almost forgotten that I was inside certain restraints, it was so soothing. Egging on my brain to relax.

I’d also stopped paying attention when she called me a doll. It felt so natural already, being a doll. Just a plaything. Something that was utterly hers.

“Very good, #4. What a good doll. So relaxed and open…”

“Yes Miss Saphi.” It was automatic now- and it did feel good. It felt great to obey, to just listen and relax, to have such perfect posture and listen.

“Rise, #4.” I carefully tested my restraints- which were no longer there. It felt somewhat stiff getting up, but I did so.

“Good doll.” I stiffened again, feeling the soft purple pleasure pulse deep into my mind. The hood had risen with me, fully attached to my head- it was much more of a helmet now. It always had been.

With each command, now- I felt a soft pulse of warm pleasure, knowing how good of a doll I was being, how obedient I was, being such a good doll.

“Follow.” I did so, her careful click of her heels on the tiled floor sending a shiver down my spine of just how perfect, how seamless it was- my steps quickly aligning with hers. It was clear that some of the hired goons quickly shuffled out of the way- some sort of muffled confusion and surprise as they did so-

“Sit- form 1.” The interior display lit up, showing a careful doll sitting exactly where they stood. I tried my best to mirror it, apparently succeeding.

“Good doll. Strip when ready, remaining seated to the best of your ability.”

I pulled off my hoodie, then stripping down and taking off my pants. Someone must have helped it up over the helmet, since there was a soft yank that quickly ceased. There was no taking off the helmet, nor did I want that anymore. I wanted to be a good doll, and I presumed they wore helmets…

“Oh?” She gasped with a soft giggle- I had removed all clothing now, feeling deeply embarrassed, yet comforted by her soft hand that now rested on one of my shoulders.

Was something wrong..?

“Perhaps not quite the doll I’d expected, but obedient nonetheless. Good doll.” I felt her warmth and comforting smile replace the nakedness and shame- slowly beginning to flow through my body.

“Stand, #4.” My legs were automatic as well, rising with pride.. I felt something slowly envelop me, draped around me – some sort of dress..? It felt gorgeously soft, so sleek and… feminine.

“Yes, Doll #4. I have chosen your dress for you. You’ll look stunning in it, I promise.” I felt a red blush begin to grow- it was awfully warm, and I wasn’t sure if it was through embarrassment or pleasure.

“At attention, #4.” I felt my posture stiffen, following the instructions overlaid in the visor. Standing up straight, then letting everything relax into a calm form, hands clasped mostly at my sides.

I saw a vision of what I must look like, and… it was perfect.

“Good doll.” I beamed underneath the helmet.

[thepearlyone]

Genital Contact Not Necessary

[A story I ended up writing from stuff I learned at Beguiled! Including the title. Please enjoy.]

"So, how do these exactly work?" Kate quizzically turned, facing the small mirror on the side of the hall. The simply furnished passage of Moira's apartment had a very plain side table for two, in between two chairs with white smooth tips on the bottom. On it, the aforementioned Pearls- two earrings of perfect roundness, about 20 mm in size- and which Moira had alluded to.

She idly picked one up, noticing the lack of earring post- instead placing it carefully on her ear, where it stayed precisely in the center. It didn't look too bad...

But it needed a friend- and her arm curiously darted for its twin.

"I mean, I get that I'm supposed to wear these as earrings-" She didn't quite spot the hands slinking behind her- catching her in a tight embrace, each one now keeping her shoulders still and straight, Moira's fingers expertly massaging them as she was pulled into a gentle yet inescapable embrace.

“Oh, those look lovely on you, Kate. I knew that you’d enjoy them…” Moira giggled, gently holding Kate still in her entryway. It hadn’t quite been her plan to start so suddenly, but Kate certainly had been curious about her involvement in the Legion.

Upon noticing her softly shut eyes, Moira purred-

"You know, if you want them to be there permanently, *WE* can make that happen."

Kate squealed, at both the astonishing mention of permanently wearing them, and picturing the perfect iridescent hemispheres now on display in her ears.

Moira paused for a moment to admire them as well, pulling her arms forward to idly rock Kate back and forth, her fingers now smoothly pressing against the smooth white surfaces of Kate's Pearls.

"Mmmmmm... whatever you're doing with your fingers is lovely..." It was nothing more than a slow rolling gasp, but it would suffice. The susurrant pleasure mixed and rolled, intertwining with Moira's gentle rocking. Kate began to smile, the feelings becoming much smoother to her...

"Lovely, isn't it? This is what's called stroking your Pearls. Of course, I'm stroking YOUR Pearls, not mine- so the wording's- okay, I think you understand." Moira eagerly giggled, getting a little too fixated on the idea.

"Mmm, okay. Stroking the Pearls..." Kate nodded, giggling back softly- mirroring what she'd heard.

"Yeah, they release a bunch of endorphins to make you feel good. They begin to mentally bond with you, forming a connection. It's.. hm. It's almost like making a conduit between two points, or connecting a junction box, or-"

Kate interrupted excitedly, pulling free of the grasp she'd been placed in with a slight twirl.

"Ooh! Or like connecting pipes, or like that water flow game! I love that one!"

Moira laughed openly as her dommey bubble was nerdily burst. Kate had expressed interest earlier in how she'd done that silly 'telekinesis' display, despite all of it just being simple Pearl manipulation that even first-month Legionnaire students were experts at. She reached out in her mind, her twin Pearl earrings glowing a soft seafoam green as she ‘pulled’ the chair forward.

"Exactly. These pretty little Pearls are what connect us Legionnaires to the rest of the Legion." Kate gasped, the chair very gently nudging at her calf- and she obligingly sat down, eyes wide with mystery.

"However," Moira continued, "they do filter a lot of their own strength, much like our pipes, so you don't get blasted with the full pressure all at once." Her hands gestured, pulling the table out of the way without touching it- just as she'd done with the chair.

"I.. see. And those do feel very good in, well, their own way." Kate blushed involuntarily, attempting to deflect what types of emotions she'd been feeling moments ago.

"My dear, you're welcome to express yourself- and yes, in any way you please." Moira chortled, using her hands to pull off an orange-purple-white scarf from the side table.

"If anything, that's what this meeting was about." Kate paused, letting the words hang in the air. Her eyebrows furled. Had it been that obvious this whole time?

"You were curious, and I thought that it would be best to introduce certain things... slowly. Most people I've chatted with about this topic don't tend to take certain aspects of myself or the Legion very seriously." Moira waited, ending the sentence with a wink.

Kate opened her mouth- but slowly shut it, letting the silence in between the cracks of the conversation. She nodded- some of it striking home. Her own thoughts had often been shot down, and she knew the pain of being unable to merely mention certain subjects out of the fear of ‘awkward’- much less the stigma of… whatever the Legion must feel like.

"That's enough of that, though. I'd like to hear your thoughts, what that all felt like. It's... delightful seeing a new potential Legionnaire enjoying herself." Moira winked with a grin, sitting down with her arms atop the back of the chair.

“O-oh.” Kate squirmed slightly, blinking a few times while collecting her thoughts- yet not wanting to take the Pearls off just yet.

They did feel so delightful, almost like there was a calming weight to them- though they weren’t burdensome. When she’d been wearing them, they felt weightless- along with her thoughts…

“Well… I really like how they make me feel. There’s a sort of relaxing quality to them, and if they’re like, magic? From everything you’ve said, including previous conversations, you always describe it as an enlightening feeling? And I’m not really sure how that tied into everything- but I’m glad they help you.”

She stammered out a response- meeting Moira’s wide knowing smile. Moira leaned in, petting aside her hair. The flawless iridescent spheres peeked through the forest of Kate’s hair, only for them to be fully put on display.

“And do you know how one makes them... permanent?” Kate blushed, shaking her head as Moira leaned in seductively. After all, the possibility was rather new to her- their chats about the Legion had mostly involved them being a book club- but come to think of it, all of them always had Pearls in their ears…

Moira continued after a pause. “While wearing them, you make a… pledge, of sorts. You orgasm- making a sort of pact with them. They pierce your ears, and make the connection so much stronger.”

Her voice was turning softer, more sensual- a tone of reverence sneaking into her voice. Moira paused, just for a moment- eyes locked on Kate to confirm their mutual interest.

“Not only that, but… you hear our Queen’s voice deep within your mind.”

“Oh.” Kate turned a bright red.

“I suppose you may not have realized this, but there’s an element of us Legionnaires being a hive mind to it as well.” At this point, Moira was very close by- and Kate had turned her head slightly away.

“But that isn’t a problem is it, dear?” Moira grinned, tilting Kate’s chin up as the subject trapped by societal convention- pinned by Moira’s gaze above her.

“N-no, actually… erm, these sorts of things are- well, you called them something like… unserious, before, right? Other people usually have issues with those topics?” Moira nodded slowly, as if observing Kate’s more obvious physical reactions while listening.

“I, erm. Like hypnosis. That’s how we met at that venue- there was a little hypnotist show off in the corner. It… was terrible, very poorly done, but I still really enjoyed it. And if I have to be explicit about it, in THAT kind of way.”

“Oh! An eager subject, are we?” The overly fake Domme voice Moira had previously used slipped back- causing Kate to giggle, blush, and squirm even more.

“Well, Kate- you probably would be fine with the assimilative aspects of the Pearl Legion in that case- welcoming you into our fold, providing optional brainwashing, the voice of the Pearl Queen in the back of your head, or sometimes very much in the forefront- basically, if you don’t have a problem with… well, explicit mind control for the betterment of humanity…” Moira trailed off, her eyebrows peaking slightly. Kate had picked up and was okay with far more than she’d thought- and it wasn’t entirely out of a need to tease her this time.

Kate paused, holding up her hand in an outstretched palm of ‘stop’.

“Moira. I’m going to lay this all out on the table.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

“The way these Pearls make me feel is lovely, wonderful, exciting to think about, and simply splendid. They’re very tempting, but I’m not sure I’m ready for such a commitment yet. I want to be right for the Legion- and with our other discussions in mind, not yet. That’s still a maybe. On the other hand, I’m very much into hypnosis- and the idea of you trancing me is so fucking hot I really really want that if that’s on the table and sorry if it’s too forward of me for right now.”

Moira stared at Kate for a moment, eyes blinking suddenly. Well, the cute gal she’d managed to meet had enjoyed all of it. What a delight- but what a predicament!

“Are you okay with the more, uh, sexual advances happening?” Her voice faltered, asking just for confirmation.

“…I thought that’s why you’d been making them?” Kate now had her own eyebrows furrowed, energetically getting up from the table and crossing her arms.

It was Moira’s turn to go into the Gay Box of Not Realizing Someone’s Flirting In That Way.

“I can see that you’re going to need a moment, so I’m just going to say- yes.” Kate pinned her leather jacket to one of the hooks nearby, revealing the simple prideful stripe of a rainbow across her shirt- the look of which later reminded both of a recent season of a treasured TV show.

Moira stammered a few times, which Kate recognized as needing a moment.

“Would you be able to make us some tea, Moira? And we’ll discuss further then. Let’s just give a bit of space for both of us to breathe.”

///

Kate had since taken off the Pearls, admiring their carrying case. It was somewhat impractical for daily use, but since most of the Legionnaires ended up… well, orgasming for the Pearl Queen, and submitting to Her power, letting the Pearls connect permanently to them- it made sense that such a chunky wooden box would be made more for display than daily use. It was a simple wood exterior, reminding her of any typical jewelry box- if slightly bigger to allow both Pearls to fit in while angling up to meet the eyes of any potential Legionnaire.

“Moira. Are you ready to discuss some sort of consent agreement? Or perhaps… what we were discuss earlier?”

“Yes, now that I’ve had a bit of time to think about it.” She paused, taking a deep breath in between.

“From what I understand, Kate- you’d like to be hypnotized entirely using the Pearls as a focus. Am I to then assume you’ve been hypnotized before, and found the situation delightful?” The question was maybe equally prying as it was priming her subject-to-be, but it was acceptable to the lady across from her.

“That’s right- I really enjoyed the permanence talk earlier, but would like to veer away from that for right now. The swaying and stroking were fantastic too, so if there’s a way to incorporate those- and maybe steer clear of any sort of… hrm, nether regions talk?” Kate’s hand curled around her own hair, twisting with a hint of timidity and a splash of trepidation.

“That’s definitely something I could do- focusing on your arousal entirely independent of anything below your hips. It’s not too uncommon for many Legionnaires- the Pearls eventually become their own erogenous zones. As if they aren’t already!” Moira mused, cueing laughter from both of them.

“I think I’ve got something- if you’re ready, we could proceed to my bedroom?” She leaned forward into Kate, still towering over her- using her posture to communicate deeper understanding and submission.

Kate slipped her hand into Moira’s, which had not been offered previously and was just swaying by the side of her hip. This caused no end of blushing and stammering for both of them, before Kate finally led Moira back towards the bedroom.

“So you know how these work, then, don’t you?” Moira grinned, offering her the wooden box. This was where it all would begin.

Kate nodded, accepting it with open hands as she strolled towards the bed and sat down.

“Of course, but we’re not going into the more… intense aspects. Yet.” Her fingers popped open the lid, revealing the twin iridescent hemispheres.

“And because you know just how wonderful they feel, how relaxed they can help you feel- you know exactly what to do.” Kate blushed with a giggle- noticing how Moira’s tone was now much more seductive. She’d whispered so softly, and she was becoming captivated with its resonance.

“And you want to touch them, don’t you? Go ahead- feel free to answer.”

“Yes.” She smirked, one finger slipping towards them-

“Wait.” Kate’s fingers paused, the next words flowing out of Moira’s mouth.

“Say ‘Yes, Moira’.”

“Yes, Moira.”

“Good girl.” Moira’s big wide grin returned, her own finger beginning to stroke Kate’s shoulders soothingly- eliciting a slow sigh from her.

“And it feels so good to listen to my words, your curiosity being unable to stop you from gently touching the Pearls. You want so badly to just reach out and touch them, to slip your fingers around them and put them back on- right, Kate?”

“Yes, Moira.” Her eyes focused on the shimmering iridescent Pearls, idly tracing her fingers around their edges much like Moira had done.

“It would be oh so easy to just stroke them.. to just feel yourself relax enough to feel good about putting them on- and just imagine how your ears would look wearing them again. How pretty, how proper, how good they feel.”

“Yes, Moira…” Kate squirmed on the bed, shoulders beginning to slump forward while still staring at the box between her hands.

“See? Your body’s already beginning to relax, to let the Pearls feel so good, to let My words slip deeper into your mind. And you want to feel them- to wear them on your ears for Me.”

“I- yes, Moira.” Kate wiggled even more, hand starting to bring them up to her ears.

“Attagirl. We both knew you couldn’t resist putting them back where they belong- they feel so nice, so soothing, so calming…” At this point, Moira had her trapped in a gentle swaying embrace, standing over her while massaging her shoulders.

”You might begin to feel even more and more relaxed, or you might begin to feel everything- all that stress, tension, drawing into the Pearls and concentrating there. Either way, you’re just right here, in My arms…”

“Yes, Moira.” She tapped Moira’s arm twice with one finger, following the guidelines they’d set out earlier.

“Is it the power of the Pearls? Or is it My words, drawing you deeper, helping you relax... drawing all that stress away…”

“Yes, Moira…” Kate’s arm trembled slightly, pressing the second Pearl in with a soft gasp. Both of them felt connected, pulsing softly with such blissful energy.

“It doesn’t matter- it only matters that you obey… that you say Yes, Moira- that you stroke your Pearls and relax…”

“Yes, Moira…” Kate could barely keep her eyes open amidst each soothing wave of iridescent perfection- she could feel Moira’s breaths as they slowly synced up… in, out, pushing any other thoughts away.

“Good girl. Such a good girl, wearing pretty Pearls for Me- letting those thoughts slip away…”

“mmmmm…” The soft moan was all that was left of her conscious mind, overwhelmed and subsumed by the pleasure.

“Attagirl.” Moira’s fingers danced atop their white surfaces, slowly and carefully tracing perfect circles on the Pearls in front of her.

“You’re being so good, giving in to the hypnosis- the powerful pretty Pearls in your ears drawing you deeper… helping you relax and submit.” Her arms were cradling Kate now, having slipped behind her.

“giving in… goooooood.” Moira giggled at the blissful remark from the dreamy headed gal in her arms.

“That’s right. It feels so good to give in to the hypnosis, to let that softness bring you deeper under the Pearls’ control for now.”

“give in.. control.”

“Very good. May I reward you with a kiss on the cheek? Say ‘Yes, Moira’ if I may, and one long tap if I may not.” Kate dazedly tapped twice, clearly just a little bit confused.

Moira leaned in and gently kissed her subject’s cheek. A gasp drew itself from Kate’s mouth, and Moira could see just how deep she’d become now- the Pearls were truly excellent assistants.

By this point, Kate could feel the Pearls softly pulsing with their rewarding pleasure- something that Moira felt all too intensely now that she was a full-blown Legionnaire.

“Very good, Kate- I’m sure you know what it feels like to relax. You’re very clearly enjoying this, I can tell. You’ve got the cutest trance-face.”

Kate giggled, a blissful smile wide across her face, eyes closed shut. It was like soaking in a bright pool, just on the top of it- only it was an iridescent smooth seafoam-glowing pool now.

“Would you like to tell Me what it feels like, Kate?”

“Yes, Moira…” The response was automatic, almost robotic- exciting Moira in a way she hadn’t expected before.

“feels… relaxing, calming, soothing.” Those were expected responses.

“Pearls very good. Want to keep wearing… feel wonderful, feel like…” Okay, those were pretty normal as well. Everyone who truly desired them *did* enjoy them deeply.

“slaaaaave…” The blissful exhalation was followed by Kate’s hips bucking, a clear show of the arousal she felt.

“Red.” Moira carefully hugged Kate.

All of a sudden, everything slowed for Kate- the soft pulsing from the Pearls reversed, pushing the thoughts and consciousness back into her head.

“Kate… That’s not something we’d discussed, but that’s also something I’m VERY eager and curious about. However, you’re not able to negotiate that right now- so I have to stop you right there.”

Another deep breath from the two of them, letting their minds relax and refresh- one coming back up from the deeply entranced state, the other coming off the high of such intimate control.

“Coming back up for me in three, two, and one-” Moira snapped her fingers, lifting them up off of Kate’s arm. Her other hand and posture supported Kate while she did so- but her subject’s finger indicated she wished to lie there for a few moments, so Moira withdrew slightly.

Kate silently lay back on the bed for a few moments. She’d been cognizant of what she was doing for a little while now, but it still felt so… real. When Moira pulled the Pearls away just for a bit, she’d felt her heart plunge for a few seconds- but it was a quick recovery. It made sense that people could enjoy them so deeply.

“Moira?”

“Yes, Kate?” Moira was just behind her now, pulling her up into a soft embrace on her lap-

“Could we have more tea, and maybe discuss that? That might be something for… much later.”

“More tea would be lovely, dear.” She giggled, earrings glowing a soft seafoam green as her kettle was moved back into position from its resting point on the counter and switched on.

(adding a read more?)

[thepearlyone]

Samantha's Surprise Submission via Sound

She’d worried about them. You know, it wasn’t every day you received mysterious packages you didn’t pay for, from a private courier- no less

Enjoy!

[thepearlyone]

Speedy Submission to Stepfordization

(Thanks to @cloudedmind1712 for the idea. Featuring ‘Tracer’ from Overwatch.)

Tracer zipped back home to her apartment, where Emily would soon be waiting for her. It was about the time that she would be arriving home from work soon, so Tracer might just make it in time for her to make her girlfriend dinner… She dashed up the stairs, vaulting over them and sliding her key into the lock effortlessly as she smiled in anticipation.

Right then, she felt something prick her neck as she opened the door. huh. One of Ana’s healing darts. She smiled a bit lazily. It must have been stuck there all day… Yeah… Instead of quickly rushing to the refrigerator and getting dinner started, she felt something pull her to the couch. She… felt pretty sleepy… Another prick hit her as her visor began to swim. No… Sombra? What was she… And Ana?

Emily smiled, whispering something into a walkie talkie as she held the binoculars up to the window. Sure enough, the two girls left, their task completed. She slowly strolled in to see her little Lena collapsed on the single couch of the apartment, She giggled, and Tracer lolled her head in Emily’s direction. Emily then gently kissed Tracer’s forehead, drawing nearer and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. “Shhh… Just calm down, luv… just look at the pretty patterns, and listen to my voice… shhh…” Of course, Emily had the foresight to put earplugs in so the subliminals playing in the apartment’s speakers wouldn’t mess with her own lovely plan. She cradled the calm speedster in her arms, gently rocking her head and hugging her softly. Eventually, ‘Tracer’ would sink deep… and then Emily would be able to do what she wanted with the sleepy ‘cavalry’.

Of course, Emily would probably have to wait a while… since even after an hour, Lena was only showing slight signs of drifting deep into trance… To pass the time, she put some headphones on and listened to an E-Book.

When she returned, her little Lena was happily smiling and muttering the phrases with ease.

“My name is Lena Oxton, not Tracer.” “I must be a prim and proper lady.” “I will dress like a prim and proper lady.” “I will be a prim and proper lady for Emily.” “A prim and proper lady wears dresses and skirts.” “A prim and proper lady wears perfect pearls.” “A prim and proper lady smiles and obeys.”

The mantra continued on and on, but the effect would be amazing. Lena would finally be prim and proper, just how Emily loved her…

Lena smiled, her eyes blinking and demurely fluttering as she woke. She got up from the couch, quietly tiptoeing over to her closet. What a horrible sight! The entire wardrobe had been replaced with… junk! It was all practically unwearable! Leather jackets, leggings, and pants… Total trash. She’d have to borrow from Emily… Lena sighed under her breath, uneasily taking an elegant dress from her girlfriend’s section of the closet… Ohhh… it felt wonderful to her touch… She bit her lip, thinking of how sexy and beautiful and prim and proper she’d look in it… But of course, she needed und- lingerie underneath. Yes… hopefully Emily wouldn’t mind that, either…

Emily groggily stumbled downstairs, smelling the bacon cooking… Tra- no… Lena… Wearing her finest dress, the ebony of the bust striping leading down and around her body, contrasting with the alabaster of the lovely gown… “Oh, my, Emily.. .please, sit down.” Even her accent was smoothed out… Lena dabbed Emily’s cheek, catching the drool and obvious love emanating off of her girlfriend’s flushed body. “Do sit down, dear, I hope you’re not too mad with me borrowing your dress. The rest of the clothes in that wardrobe simply won’t do… and this was the best alternative I had. If only I had a lovely sun hat…” Her multiple piercings were out of her ears, replaced by a single pearl earring on her lobes, with another strand of pearls gracing her neck.

“I… wow. Do you like that…?” “Yes, I enjoy the fact that you changed me to suit your… preferences.” She giggled, continuing. “I do wish you had simply asked, but I find it so much more delightful than I would have. Thank you for helping me to feel simply wonderful.” She gently kissed Emily on the forehead, turning back to the kitchen as her apron swished against her immaculate dress.

[sisybimbobella]

If I could explain how much I love the fact the author not only made an incredibly hot fanfic and kept both characters’ sexuality accurate, but kept the relationships accurate and pointed amazing visuals in my head of what was happening, I would.

But obviously I’m not as good with words as the author is.

[thepearlyone]

🥺 aww, thank you so much, dear!

[thepearlyone]

Trouble in River City 3 & 4

Hey, you know those stories a few years back? ahahah

no, I know you don’t. But I do! They’re from my superhero setting- River City.

So here you go! Check them out!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NJfjBlrAcpvrkGWbQLHznhSvuq-rZeWearqNK9mSLIk/edit?usp=sharing

(Where to Start)

Trouble in River City 3- Common Grounds

Trouble in River City 4- Trinity

[thepearlyone]

Artific-ial Desires

Pearly’s Notes: this one feels like one of my best ones yet! Not that this didn’t take a while, but it feels like I went through like nine or ten good, working drafts on this. Though it didn’t end up how I initially envisioned, the beast it has become is still so beautiful.

~for kiera~

(or, read it on google docs here! )

~~~~

The triangle-shaped corner store had recently sold- which wouldn’t have been notable in the slightest, except for the buyer. In just the past few days, grime was stripped away, windows were sparkled, new furniture rushed in, all at a breakneck pace- which was typical only for the most elite. And what’s more, the construction company was not the ‘ol reliable mom and pop’ kind, but a very specific one most people in the area didn’t even know. Therefore, someone had to be asking the gossip to spread like wildfire- and all signs pointed to the Lady Von-Quirandra.

The throng filled the entranceway to the newly refurbished boutique, packing themselves all into a doorway and front hallway meant for at least twenty people fewer. There was something about this kind of crowd that meant a spectacle- and Cassandra wasn’t about to miss out on one. It looked like she’d missed out on whatever the first showcase was, as the artificer had their back turned and was clearly answering a question while herding the crowd to another.

“Oh, they’re my own creation- you wouldn’t be able to even find anything remotely similar anywhere else, much less a shop that can match the level of intricate craftsmanship.” She muttered under her breath something about arrogance leading before a great fall, but the speaker’s bold claim definitely seemed apt.

Everything in the shop was dripping with quality, sometimes literally. The fine swirls of one of the displayed rings caught everyone’s eyes initially- the crowd even rushed forward in an attempt to prevent it from melting. Each ring in that display was set up and carefully lit (inside each box, of course) to appear as though it was melting, but each one was so solidly constructed that no one could say anything unpleasant about the effect.

“Now, onto another small invention of mine, I’m proud to finally unveil these-“ It was just a simple pair of diamond-shaped earrings. They looked impressive, but there really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. At least, if there was, it wasn’t visible at the first blush, and the crowd was hurried over to the next booth quickly enough. However, Cassandra definitely wanted to ask about them, as if a one-on-one were even possible with such a famous artificer. She noticed the crowd thinning, as some of the younger members quickly fanned out to run home- after all, entering artificers’ shops were the kind of thing that mothers gave strict punishments for- and she could tell that a couple more of those leaving couldn’t have afforded the ‘intricate craftsmanship’ but wanted to have hope talked into them.

She tarried for as long as she could to look at the diamond-shaped earrings. The gems seemed to be simple studs, although she knew that a lot of concentration had been poured into the project. It was simple- but that made it all the more dangerous, as it could lure people into a false sense of security. The posts seemed to be a material similar to silver, but in the right lighting, Cassandra swore she saw it shimmer.

Ushered kindly to the next booth by everyone’s absence, she admired the plentiful array- sets, fully decked out in black velvet backing, laid out for the finest of society. These had to be personal commissions, things made for specific people in mind- either the artificer knew some slaves or nobles in need of their services, or perhaps they contacted THEM-

She chided herself on even considering that possibility- what the hell was she thinking? No noble-born family, especially not anyone the D’Antonias knew, would ever consider reaching out-artificing was dangerous business. No one ever cared how it happened, either, because if you stuck your neck too close to find out- it could end up adorned in the next showcase.

“Now, we’ve not yet gotten a private room, but those of you interested in our… New Acquisitions, please step this way. I’d be delighted to… guide each of you to them.” Even more fanned out, leaving a still rather sizeable crowd, with only a handful of them taking the opportunity to privately take an appointment.

New Acquisitions- the not-so-secret code word for slaves, either legal or illegal. Slaves had been quite controversial when first introduced a few decades ago, but now every family worth their weight in gold had them, and it was almost just another job. Slave applications were valuable and showed that you were selflessly serving another family- but there were still criminals. Unscrupulous individuals, people who might seek out an artificer to do the dirty work rather than submit their findings to the Justice Computer… Unhappy spouses, unruly coworkers, anyone who might be able to scrape up enough cash.

Then again, they could end up in the same position they wished for someone else- when trying to trick an artificer… It was always hard to tell with them. Everything was.

The lucky moment meant that she could go back to examining what she pleased- the simple earrings. Cassandra was very careful not to touch anything, but she drew quite close to them. The plain diamond-shaped crystals didn’t seem to hold any secrets, and as she carefully maneuvered the box into the light, it merely added to her curiosity. The earrings’ posts still sparkled slightly, meaning this had to be some sort of odd material- but it would only mean that Cassandra would have to ask. Why one pedestal and ‘proud to unveil’ for one pair of earrings that didn’t have anything odd to them?

~~~~

The individual meetings went by faster than anyone could imagine, with more of the crowd flowing out of either the showroom or shop- dazzled at the spectacle. Cassandra carefully slinked back towards the main group, acting as though she was admiring other pieces- a ring here, passing the couple of sets, until-

“Ah, hello there- I hope you’re enjoying the new opening?” She gasped, as they drew much closer to her. The fourteen people now left in the shop began to spread throughout the shop’s layout, leaving her in a far more intimate setting than she previously thought possible. The crowd cover had certainly been nice- but they were now milling up and down the aisles to gawk at the dainty jewelry, the tinkered toys, and the gorgeous gadgets.

Her attention snapped back to the artificer, who was now holding a curious device, one that seemed to be purifying the air. Cassandra had heard about them before, but never seen one so close, or so small- much larger versions were used in air factories. It only took her a few seconds to understand it- the small embroidered gas-bag at the back would fill, and slowly get puffed out by the user- and her mind dismissed it from any chance of danger.

She gave a polite yet faint smile, her mind racing to prepare some sort of platitude that would be enough to avoid detection.

“I certainly admired many of your pieces.” This was said with more than a little trepidation, which the artificer seemed to enjoy, bringing out a smile from underneath their goggles and wide-brimmed smithing hat.

“oh? So you know the rules…” And she did. She was very well-acquainted with them: her mother had even had a few friends whisked away under the Equal Rites, she’d seen them happily smiling with enchanted collars and enchanted rings… of course, for some of them she had been too young to understand, but now-

The slight puff of air brought her quickly back to reality, where the artificer stood next to her. They were clad in a soft shimmering gown, one that played off of their curves just like some of the rings on display. It wasn’t as frilly or poofy, and yet seemed to accentuate their body shape with an extra dimension- lending an odd effect to the gown. Cassandra wasn’t familiar with the material- as many artificers used off-world or off-dimension materials in their own creation… And now it was clear she was staring again, so she had to clear her throat and ask a question or else seem like a buffoon.

“Your own design?” This elicited a knowing smile, and a slow circular glide from their feet in a twirl around. This was to show the dress off, undoubtedly, and Cassandra delighted in it.

“No, unfortunately- but it was my material. The dressmaker from that forest with the slightly lewd name, in case you’re wondering how to get a matching set.” The reply almost seemed teasing, knowing- as if they could know her life story with just a glance. Again, not as if she’d be able to afford anything close to a single piece from the shop without serious considerations both conceptual and legal, financial (and legal) assistance, and magical ward prevention insurance. Even drafting up a contract would be far above her abilities and pay grade, but it could be the only surefire way to avoid any nastiness from anyone involved- especially an artificer.

“Hmm.. I would typically ask if there was one piece that stuck out to you, but I get the feeling I already know what it is. Given your silence… I’d like your name before I guess.” The remnants of the crowd had been slowly filtering out, unbeknownst to her, with one or two pieces being sold- the in-shop lawyer was already beaming and haggling with clients which Cassandra *had* seen- and the corner-store size lent the appearance of being quaint or familial. She had to admit it was a clever arrangement.

“I- sorry. Between the dress and the other pieces, I guess I’m a little starstruck. It’s not every day you get to ‘meet’ one, you know.” She hoped that her cheeks hadn’t blossomed into a blush- although there was no way to know for sure, only to hope and observe the artificer. She also hadn’t meant to any malice, although the hint of a second meaning was merely waiting to be picked up.

They were dangerous folk- many artificers had been caught with entire houses or brothels full of newly-rited thralls. Even tales of just one catching the eye of an entire town, using nothing but forks or pushpins or paperclips or slivers of metal and the inimitable inextricable tool that was their own wit, danced around the fringes of villages. Artificers were not to be listened to, a ‘boogeyman’ that assisted everyday life, that generously acted while greedily taking- in the same instance. Payment could very well be ‘your firstborn’ when dealing with them, and if it was… You’d best hope you weren’t an eldest child.

They took just another second to respond, a hand darting out from the gown. An immaculate white glove, made from plain cloth- which caused her internal tension to unwind quite a bit- which asked for her own hand.

“The name is Von-Quirandra, as I’m sure you’re no doubt aware. The shop is mine, recently acquired with… a little help.” The slight break made Cassandra take note, but she was careful not to advertise it as they continued-

“You may be wondering about the lawyer, he’s a family friend and came with the store.” She noticed a slight glint in the light, and this may have tipped them off because they continued, “Any and all gifts would be voluntary, non-contractual, and specifically not enchanted.”

“After all, I couldn’t expect someone to willingly accept things from an artificer without proper vetting or lineage- so you may view his, in the back office.”

They cleared their throat again, “As I requested, your name would be..?”

“Cassandra.” She didn’t know why she offered it so plainly.

“Cassandra…” The soft utterance, a shower of heavenly stars captured and smoothed into a ribbon off of which the word slid. They said it plainly yet perfectly, her skin crawling with delight and disquiet- but more of the former.

“Cassandra. Quite a lovely name. May I guess which piece caught your eye?” She nodded gently, as if trying to quiet and push aside the thoughts that yelled about the danger of even talking to an artificer.

“My first guess would be the Quirmian Collar- oh, I mean- the one on display towards the front of the store that you must have seen as you entered.” Truth be told, that was the one she’d missed, although the light was quite pretty on it. A highborn slave might wear such a necklace, so it wasn’t something Cassandra could have or even aspired to. No, their family didn’t wish for slaves- or wish to be them.

“Judging by the way you haven’t lit up like a firework, I’d say another one.. Allow me to try again- a private commission of mine? Perhaps the jade engraved set- I bet…” This time, their face moved even closer to her, as if quizzically judging her.

“No.” The terse response plopped out after another moment of silence.

“I see, Cassandra. Might I be permitted one last guess?” They matched her grin, and Cassandra hoped with all her heart that she didn’t appear to be blushing. With how both afraid and stimulated she was, her brain continued to rattle off reasons to leave, but her feet stayed put.

“The third and final guess is… Hmm. I don’t wish to waste it… I can rule one thing out, though- I know you didn’t request a private showing, so I’ll guess… the melting rings, using the sands of Terr-sichoré?”

Their previous smile began to curl into a frown. Their eyebrows, too-

“You seem to be much more of a mystery than you let on, Cassandra. Please.”

She blinked, unsure of what exactly to do and yet still recovering from the way they said her name.

“Please, tell me some more- what did you like? How might I know you?”

“I-uh, well, you know my name, and I come from the D’Antonia-“

“Oh!! Oh my goodness, Cassandra D’Antonia… I am humbled to have you in my presence.” Their crimson lips whispered the word with a soft affect- the perfect shiver traveling up her back in accordance with it. Her cheeks were now a beet-red. There was no chance of hiding it anymore.

“Thank you. I, erm, happened across the crowd, and…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. The crowd seemed to mostly be there to be talked to, but I did get quite a few purchases. More than I expected, if I may confide in such a prestigious family. It’s a shame that-“

Cassandra turned, hearing rather loud footsteps, which revealed just how startled and absorbed in each other they both were. She swore that despite her own reddening cheeks, the Lady Von-Quirandra seemed to be blushing as well. They turned back towards the lawyer, and were handed a report- although it only needed a quick scan of her attention.

“Ah, thank you. If you could, I think we could use a little more privacy.” The Lady Von-Quirandra handed it back to the lawyer, who withdrew to the office again, but that comment stuck in her mind. It caused her to notice-

She was alone. With an artificer. In their own shop.

“So, Cassandra- I understand you are just a bit afraid. There’s plenty of reason to be… but for a lady such as yourself, I wouldn’t dare try anything unless you asked for it.” their gown swished gently as they drew within whispering distance, voice so soft and smooth.

“I would be wonderfully glad to show the D’Antonia house around. If there is anything you can think of…”

The answer leapt from her mouth before she had time to realize it.

“The earrings.” Realizing she’d said it out loud, her eyes widened in intertwined surprise and fear, her arm now moving up to clamp her mouth shut.

Their eyes flashed in shock behind the goggles, so much so that they removed them.

“Oh my… Cassandra… I didn’t think it would be you who might fall prey to them.” The reverence that they had for her name… Goddesses be damned, the artificer might as well be kissing her right on the-

Her cheeks were barely able to burn a brighter red, as the flame colors spread up her ears and forehead. Banishing the thought, she blinked- only to look into the Lady Von-Quirandra’s… beautiful eyes. Their visage was so soft yet toned, pale- but it had a moonlight brilliance to it.

Even more striking, they took her hand- guiding it back towards the pedestal where the earrings await. The simple box, with the inelaborate studs… soon, the answers would be revealed. But did she really want them?

Their cotton enveloped hand began to caress her cheek, sending a wave of calm throughout her body.

“Oh, Cassandra… such a pretty darling. You’d like to know what’s so special about these?” They cooed, their normally charismatic voice turning lower and smoother- almost sultry… She nodded, her eyes fluttering under their careful ministrations- as if they were massaging her oh so wonderfully.

“You’re right about them. They’re so very special. One thing I’ve been working on for, well, years. My little personal project. They’re made with specific people in mind…” Her ears (and arousal) perked up slightly, but the soothing hands made sure it was only barely noticeable as she relaxed further.

“First, I do suppose a quick lesson in magic is required.” Their soft little titter revealed a delight in Cassandra she hadn’t thought was requited- but must have been all along.. The workshop entrance was right near them, and The Lady closed the door- hanging up their goggles carefully and continuing to explain.

“Magic requires power- the ability to mold the natural world… A focus or desire for that change… and some method to focus both power and desire into a physical good. A contract.” Some of this was purred delicately into Cassandra’s ear, and some was simply stated- as the hat slipped off and was put away on top of the goggles.

“We artificers simply adore making contracts-it’s much of the sparkle that helps each of us enjoy life. Having even just one minute of someone else’s life… access to their own imbued power, to their thoughts, their memories… I find it delectable.”

“So… I’m sure that you wish to draw up a contract… properly. Before you try them on, and for you to understand what they can do. I’ll ask for an hour, minimum of ten minutes…” Their moonlight skin had turned to a soft flushed rose now, having clearly… warmed up to Cassandra. This line of thoughts seemed to meander aimlessly, ending with a soft bump into the word ‘please’- whispered pleadingly to Cassandra.

She certainly was curious. Although her fears about artificers couldn’t be assuaged, The Lady certainly had an interest in her. Her mind was racing, risks thrown aside- filled with the new possibilities and the desire of pleasing someone who was interested in her rather than her family’s wealth or status. The ideas whirred in front of her-

Well, the lawyer would be available to draw up the contract. She’d be able to give just ten minutes… It could possibly endear her to The Lady, and it would be a way to get a free piece- which could be given off to another for disenchanting and selling… it, just in case. Presuming it didn’t do anything first. At the very least, she could talk to the lawyer alone.

And if… if the Lady did harbor certain unsavory desires for her, it might be… beneficial to get in- get out- and then use the money from the other artificer she found to disappear. See? There was definitely a way to escape. She’d be fine.

~~~~

Entering the lawyer’s office was strikingly different, as everything was simultaneously neatly organized and a sprawling jungle of paperwork. Cassandra was able to find it oddly relaxing- far enough away from the Lady Von-Quirandra to be immune from anything untoward, but close enough to still feel her influence on everything in the room. The finely crafted chairs, the softwood desk, the carefully stacked papers…

“So- I’m sure you understand the typical thoughts most clients have. Rest assured, you aren’t alone here- I’m also here to help. I’ve got some preliminary documents drawn up, although I’d need your help and name to complete them.” He was about six feet tall, making him just a bit shorter than The Lady (but larger, and certainly more mountainous than Cassandra). He had an awfully kind smile, and definitely seemed to be groomed daily in order to keep up appearances- the suit was certainly professional enough. However, her eyes were drawn to-

“Sir… your ears..!” Cassandra was quite surprised to find a pair of earrings in his ears, not quite matching the ones out there in the box- diamond shaped, but certainly of a much plainer material. It didn’t shimmer in the light, but still had the same design…

He shrugged this off with a chuckle, taking them out and showing them to her. “They’re quite plain, unlike the ones Milady has been working on. I requested the first prototype as payment for a rather unruly client.” Seeing them alone, with no box, made them feel so… Unremarkable. Tame, almost.

“I assure you, they are not enchanted in any way. Shall we get down to business now?” She nodded curtly, offering her name- which elicited a soft gasp from the lawyer, but did not pause his diligent writing. The D’Antonia name was still weighty enough to cause a dent- even though they’d fallen on harder times lately.

“Well, with that finished… How much time are you willing to give her? Would you like to give the full hour, or just the ten-minute minimum?” She paused, faltering…

“Sir… I still don’t know what it does.”

“I know.” His response was curt and quick.

“And that doesn’t seem odd to you?” Her eyebrows furled in shock, examining his haptics, trying to find any sign that she might be given a ‘free’ preview. One where she might not be risking anything.

“Of course not. It’s part of the guarantee- you won’t be able to share anything about the piece with Milady’s competitors if you walk away, and if you’re given an enforceable contract, you’ll have to abide by it. On the other hand, signing this contract will also protect Milady from anything untoward, as you can see from these paragraphs right here.” Well, he certainly was a good lawyer- she noticed those paragraphs, and her own family’s training told her that it was close enough to airtight for her safety…

“I see. So instead of a trial period, this contract is a trial period, and after the ten minutes, it will come off. Is that right?”

“Yes. If you’d like, we can draft up another contract for purchase when you’re done.”

“We’ll see.” She finished with the four-page document, taking the offered pen. “How is the time determined?”

“I’ve got the proper stopwatch right here, Ms. D’Antonia.” He pulled it out of his drawer, presenting her with a silver stopwatch- and she instantly noted the protective runes carved in it. Not only would it be protected from any magical interference, but it would undo any magical changes if it surpassed 30 seconds from the allotted time. And since there would be no way for either of them to mess with it… She turned it over in her hands before setting it down and sliding the contract under it.

“Are you ready, Ms. D’Antonia? The time will start when you exit the doorway.”

Cassandra’s signature and smug smile was enough to prove that she was. She’d find out about these mysterious earrings, and prove to herself that all the danger about artificers was nonsense. After all, she had this contract to protect her.

~~~~

The Lady met her right as she opened the door outwards, leaning against the pedestal they’d placed. Their smirk was much more graceful than before, although it still betrayed a particular interest in her.

“You haven’t left the doorway yet… Cassandra.~” Yet again, their words were a fluttering crescendo of affection.

“Well, ‘Milady’, you do have me ‘captive’ for ten minutes.” They cracked open the plain box, nodding… Their artificing gear was entirely gone, as well as the cotton gloves- allowing Cassandra a look at their face. It was rather smooth, with only a couple of wrinkled scars, as well as the common ‘forge-tan’… and yet it was so gorgeous Cassandra couldn’t help but look at it.

They brought the earrings forth, allowing Cassandra to examine them even more, but teasingly pulling them away at the last second. Only once she extended her fingers… finally touching the object of her intrigue, turning it over carefully. The earring backs seemed to be new, since she hadn’t been able to take it out previously, but she quickly found herself slipping them into one ear, and then the other.

That must have been what was so alluring about them, their simplicity…

Her foot involuntarily moved forward at the same time she heard a very loud CLICK in both ears. She felt the earring backs twist slightly, something fall to the ground…

and her thoughts vanished. Everything except what was directly in front of her faded, her mind shutting down instantly, only able to track what They.. no, Milady, was doing. The clack of Milady’s heels felt so dull, only picking up when something slipped from Milady’s lips.

“Cassandra? Are you still in there?” Their voice seemed almost… afraid. Had she been able to think properly, she would have known it was tinged with their concern and affection for her.

The response was a dry, dull, almost robotic “Yes, Milady.” Her head could not move an inch, she was so deeply and utterly enthralled.

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?” And now this demanded the reverse- she wasn’t uncomfortable, which was the oddest thing to her. Everything in her body must have been stiff, and yet she felt as if she were laying on a fine cushion.

“Good. I… I would like you to tell me of yourself. Then, how you feel about… me. Artificers.” Milady looked exhausted, but so wonderfully happy- their eyes welled with tears from seeing their invention so perfected. They pulled up an ornate chair in front of her, listening attentively with their head perched atop one of their palms. They seemed so at ease… resting into the chair’s natural shape and the armrests to listen to their little subject.

“Where should… should…” This quickly brought out a gasp, and widened eyes from Milady-

“Is Cassandra unsure how to refer to herself at the moment, with the backs in place?” It seemed like they had some experience with this, then- perhaps only one other, though, given their tone and reactions.

“Yes Milady.”

“Cassandra ought to use the third person for now. Understood? Nod, please, then continue from the beginning- starting with how she’s feeling, and then when she entered the shop.”

A gentle nod from Cassandra’s head, along with an odd feeling- bliss… presumably from following Milady’s order. Is this what artificers did normally? Have the thralls talk to them? If she could have a consistent thought, she would have tried to hold onto that one, but it was pushed down into nothingness by the calming backs.

“Cassandra is unsure what she is experiencing. She is… feeling odd. Although she stopped in to examine the spectacle, she felt… drawn to these earrings. Curious about them. There was something special about them.” Her speaking paused, as she saw Milady holding up one finger.

“Cassandra, please speak normally. Although… just a hint like this. Nod if you understand, and continue.” She felt her vocal cords unlock with a curt nod, utterly freeing her except for one- mouth finally able to move at her own will… but there was still the lingering urge to simply say what she was directed to.

“Cassandra is now aware of what might be so special about them. They make Cassandra unable to think. Unable to disobey, Milady.” At least her speaking had returned to normal- but that thought, too, slipped down into the void.

“I… Would normal Cassandra… How does Cassandra feel about me?”

“Cassandra feels intrigued, interested, stimulated, a-“

“I meant… Does Cassandra like me?” Now Milady was easily blushing, covering their face slightly.

After a very slight pause… “Yes, Milady.” was uttered from her lips, much of the affection she still felt dripping from her words.

“Does… Cassandra know how I feel about her as well?” This was clearly said with a tinge of embarrassment, but curiosity had taken Milady over.

“Cassandra feels that… yes, Milady may perhaps like her. Especially now, like this.”

“O-oh. I see. The attention is, ah, requited. Good! I, ah, believe we’ll move on now…” Milady was covering their head with their hands, clearly turning a deeper flushed red. Had Cassandra been able to properly recall this later, she would have noticed that Milady had turned away from her vision and towards a clipboard to assist hiding their shame.

“Very well… increase vision to normal parameters-“ which meant she could see again, able to focus and look around normally, “standard head mobility as well, and increase thoughts to twenty percent.” She…

Cassandra was thinking. In front of an artificer.

“Kneel.”

Cassandra was kneeling and looking up at an artificer. The sheer danger of what she had done pumped through her veins, but she could not bring herself to move any more than turning away her head slightly- but she didn’t want to look away from the beautiful Lady Von Quirandra.

“Oh my, that feels much better… more domineering, don’t you think?” This brought out an electrified smile, one that she stared at, enraptured and terrified alike. Their hand reached out to tip up her chin with a giggle, stroking her cheek and calming her in the process.

“Please… I know you’re probably afraid, but I don’t wish you to be. I wanted you to experience… this.” It was certainly blissful, not to have to think. Not to be a noble. Not to occupy oneself with all these preconceived notions, manners, passions, etiquette that had to be followed every second of being –

“Cassandra.” That name again, the one that made her eyelids flutter from simply hearing The Lady Von Quirandra say it. However, her eyes had to be open again- so they were opened.

“Please increase thoughts to full. How are you feeling?”

“I… what the hell did you do to me?” She couldn’t help but ask this in the kindest way possible, filled with a curiosity and a wistful arousal- this thought a balloon, inflating with potential.

“The backs have a certain enthralling power. One to eliminate potential thought, even as it happens, to allow for someone to control the wearer entirely. What’s more, they keep their wearers nice and obedient.” The Lady almost said this a little lustily, clearly enjoying the moment- but also playfully and reassuringly… looking down straight into Cassandra’s hazel eyes.

“I hope you understand their power well, now. At the end of your time, you’ll make a decision. It may not be today, perhaps in a few days, or weeks. I hope that you’ll choose to become my.. ah, well… ‘apprentice’.” The Lady went back to covering their face and peeking out at the kneeling figure below them

Her face contorted in shock, stretching in disbelief- before snapping back to a central position. Apparently her shoulders were not allowed to move much, but her face and brain were still ‘allowed’ to move. An apprentice? To an artificer? She couldn’t believe the offer- not least of which for being one of the least qualified people on the planet, but also for the incredulity of it all.

“I understand that you might be a-“

“Your apprentice, Lady??? I don’t know the first thing about-!~”

“Hush, please. I don’t wish for Ashton to be disturbed.” Her jaw instantly slipped shut.

“And that’s not quite true- I taught you ‘the first thing about magic’, and really all you would need to know. I… I need someone acquainted with selling. It truly takes a toll on me to do these kinds of shows. I can’t always afford the… showmanship to get up and move every time that a lot of nobles say I ought to show off my work more.” They slumped further into the chair, clearly sulking.

“I’m skilled, as you can see, but… not there, in that kind of arena. I’d rather be sticking my head in the oil jar than trying to upsell a ring that I didn’t even put that much effort into.”

Throughout this rant, Cassandra could see the lines on their face- clearly an exhausted person, much like her family- trying to get by the best they could.

“…besides, it would be… more than that.” The Lady cleared their throat before continuing, leaving a hefty dramatic pause.

“You could be free from your family name.”

The impossible idea spread through her mind in stages. Relief from the D’Antonias’ strict rules, the imposed penny-pinching, the etiquette- then that she would be with someone. Of course, the idea settled back in of artificers, and much worse-

“And you would only have one restricted hour at most. Maybe two, if we both feel… intimate that night.” This was said in increasingly hushed tones, causing an outbreak of blushing on both of their parts.

“Are you… proposing??” The Lady squealed in shame, answering-

“O-oonly to be my… girlfriend! I don’t want you to get any ideas of that just yet, but… I think I’d like that as well… I could make us a pair of rings, later…”

The flustered D’Antonia heiress couldn’t help but keep opening and closing her mouth, flabbergasted by the idea that seemed

“Keep your mouth shut, dear. Just… think about it for when you’re done. Which is… hm, soon. Too soon…” The backs pulsed gently with enchanted power, and the carefully wound silver pocketwatch chimed with one minute left.

“Return to thrall mode, just for now- but keep the vocal modifiers.” She felt her thoughts be blasted into the wind again, her body relaxing even further, letting go of all the tension inside her…

“Just keep relaxing, little Cassandra… I want you to understand what this is like. How blissful this can be for you. How obedient you can be made. And that this is an offer unlike any other- one where I will use you, remold you, make you into a new beautiful piece- one worthy of your own name. No more silly D’Antonia to hold you back and keep you inside a gilded prison.”

The Lady seemed much calmer, maintaining that more dominant affect, but… if Cassandra were able to think, she’d know it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from each of them. For the few seconds, they smiled and admired their thrall, four cheeks blushing in turn.

~~~~

The timer went off, returning Cassandra to her normal thoughts instantly- though it left her blushing as red as the first dress she’d ever worn to her family’s elegant ball. She rose, tentatively, under the gaze of The Lady. They slightly rose and-

It was just her instincts acting now, her base fear- and she ran out of the small corner shop into the rain. The thump of her heart pounding in her ears drove out the surprised shriek of the lawyer, the splash of mud against the cobblestone street, leaving behind only the knowledge of which street to take- left, right, center down the path here…

Cassandra arrived at the manor steps, and collapsed to her knees… a relentless sob had taken hold of her, tears and rain both streaking across her face.

Truth be told, she hadn’t realized she’d even stolen the backs until she’d taken them out of her ears, and yet- the urge to still treat them with care was there. All of this was happening so suddenly. There was so much that she just… didn’t know. Her own feelings were a jumble of butterflies, swirling and fluttering around inside…

She tried to sort them, to herd them- the way her mother had taught her, giving them all names and pretty colors, making them butterflies in her own mind-[herbarium].

But as soon as she’d plucked one out from the swirling horde, visualizing its soft iridescent wings, picturing the soft caress of Their glove again-

no.

Her legs crumpled weakly, pleading that no one would see her like this, so disheveled and undone by… the new shop.

She’d return to the shop tomorrow, return the backs, leave a note of thanks just to be… cordial enough, and just… flee. Run away somewhere. Get away from this ancient town and its horrid artificer.

The offer was just too good to be true.

~~~~

Some time later…

“Ah, hello, Missus Val-Periton! May I escort you to the back? Your pendant is ready.” Cassandra beamed happily at the couple that had strolled into the shop, her own earrings sparkling in the multitude of framed lights. The new verdant dress she strolled around the shop in was almost the shop’s mascot- with the new sign painted with a cartoonish version of it draped alongside the logo. Business was booming, especially since a familiar face could help ease the fears about artificers.

Her Lady Von Quirandra was placing the finishing touches on the precious pendant, and the couple was more than glad to finish paying- the pendant sparkled brilliantly in Her Lady’s hands. As the couple strolled out of the shop proudly, Her Lady gently brushed their hand against her cheek, repeating with the softest possible murmur the most precious words they both knew.

“You did so well for Me, Thrall Cassandra. I love you.” And with an idolizing sigh, Cassandra D’arvon Quirandra returned them.

fin

[thepearlyone]

Microfiction: Championification

Just a quick championification thing I have been mulling over the past two days. Enjoy, please!

~~~

The end of the world. Alex didn’t expect it to be so soon, but it never happened at a good time for anyone. Panting from exertion, she gruffly swung her leg over the final ledge as the rope gave out underneath her. She took another moment to rest, her hands on her knees, as she stared up at the sinister portal that swirled menacingly above the mountain.

“Ah, you finally made it.” The dark voice boomed, the portal materializing something while still swirling- this was no longer her mountain, it was the invaders’. The morbid clouds still grew, a sleek heeled leg stepping out- a shapely dark purple… demon? Her hackles raised, sensing a strange energy that emanated from the new appearance.

“Please, take a seat.” An ornate matching chair presented itself, with a table as well- and an ordinary wooden chair. No… it was HER chair. The one her mother had- How the Nine did this invader know about that?

“My name and knowledge are not important, but you may call me in your tongue Quiaara.” The purple intruder sighed, sitting down and also conjuring a table from seemingly thin air.

“Please rest. We need to discuss My terms. Otherwise, I’ll make you sit there. Or perhaps kneel before me..~” This last statement ended in a deep otherworldly chuckle

She sat, begrudgingly, taking the seat as a much-needed respite. The sleek invader now presented her a regal pillow- on it, a single black ornate helmet…

“My offer is as follows. Become a Champion, and we leave this world together- never for my forces to return, with one exception- if our protection would be needed. Otherwise… you’re welcome to try.”

Alex hesitated. Knowing that this might very well be the last decision she properly made, bartering herself for the fate of her entire universe… She slumped, nodding.

“To complete My offer, you shall kneel before Me, then place the helmet on… and say the words of the pact.” Quiaara towered above her, and she slipped the wine-dark metal over her head… armor taking perfect shape and wrapping around her…

alex’s new tongue groaned, testing the words carefully on her new armored body, the helm’s interior tentacles restraining her and yet giving her newfound strength… whispering and slinking the perfect word- submission and subservience… yes-

“Osh-l’aam.” The voice was a deep guttural one, yet still possessing her most beautiful twinkle- one truly transformed.

“Rise, Champion. We have much training to do…” HER helmet slid forward, exposing quiaara’s… no, Her beautiful face, revealing Herself to the new Champion- who rose obediently and stepped forward into the swirling portal- hand being taken…

[thepearlyone]

Hello! Welcome to my writing blog! Please do scroll through the archives and check out my previous work- or if you’re feeling so inclined, shoot me an ASK!

(do not respond to DMs unless you are a VPP)

ALSO- Do let me know if you’d like to see my work, previous or otherwise, elsewhere! be it EMCSA or some other place

[thepearlyone]

Dahlia & Grace- A Third Part

As an unusual turn of events, Grace swished through the door to find her apartment empty. On other days, Dahlia would surely be home by now, but a thorough examination of the domicile showed otherwise. Grace’s eyebrows furled, beginning to scan for other things that might be out of place. Subconsciously, she knew something must be off- there wouldn’t be a very good reason for Dahlia to disappear, and although she often had things planned, they usually put it on the calendar.

Moving from the kitchen and into the open area, her eyes flitted from here to there. The couch by the door held no surprises, nor did the coatrack- although one of the cute navy-blue berets was missing. The corner-couch was slightly disassembled, and not in its usual bed form. This could be remedied easily by… Grace mumbled something to herself and promised to fix it as soon as Dahlia asked in that adorably polite manner of hers. She moved back into her room and pondered, examining the various jewelry boxes on her desk, when suddenly-

“Ta-da!” The apartment door swung open and revealed her darling girlfriend- whose sudden appearance came with a bang (of the door), causing Grace to tip over and fall on the floor with a loud and unseemly utterance.

“Grace, are you ok?” Dahlia had certainly startled her, but both would recover from the minor embarrassment. Although it was quite the surprise, it allowed Grace to get up- and bask in the new vision she now beheld.

She was clad in a luxurious navy dress, a longer cut allowing for Grace’s style- but a risqué leg slit in front, showing off the rougher leg underneath and a shimmering boot that encased it. Dahlia’s hair was now a soft mahogany and dark blue, with a properly placed beret perched atop- the new haircut both showing off something new, and the sheer length of her hair. All of her hairstyles and colors worked wonderfully for her, according to Grace, but her eyes were still glued on Dahlia’s earlobes.

“Dahlia..? A-are those-“ Grace’s eyes widened, flabbergasted and unable to form complete sentences. The (normally) gothic girlfriend posed daintily

“As you’d probably say..” Dahlia coughed, clearing her throat and straightening her posture before continuing, “You’ve inspired me, darling. I finally got ‘proper’ earrings!” Combined with a wide grin, the twin gleaming spheres looked absolutely perfect- as if they’d not only been there all along, but like they’d… belonged.

“I…”

“Now now, Grace- don’t blush too hard.” Dahlia tittered, maintaining the affect of one of Grace’s preppy posh friends. She stepped forward, shutting the door with a gentle push- and although she walked normally, Grace could swear Dahlia was gliding an inch off the ground. The soft step of the rubber-heeled boots almost echoed against the tense silence.

Before she knew it, Grace was blushing in Dahlia’s soft hand- no, wait… GLOVED hands. The silky opera gloves felt amazing against her hair, and Dahlia had absolutely outdone herself today.

“I.. uhm…” This earned a soft shushing from the now preppified Dahlia, who gently cooed over the now quivering doll in her hands.

“Shhhh… just relax. You said that you didn’t want to know, so I… took some precautions. I’ve got many nice things arranged for tonight, and although it’s a bit late (sorry) we still have plenty of time before you melt into a pumpkin Cinderella-style.” Dahlia’s sharp wit returned, dropping the accent once she only needed to whisper.

“T-tonight?” the soft squeak was anything but normal for Grace, but Dahlia gently kissed down her girlfriend’s head before answering.

“Relax, darling. I bet you forgot what day it is, too.” Which was true- she kept thinking it was Monday for some reason, and every time she glanced at the calendar, she never really-

Yesterday was Thursday.

It was Friday today.

Friday was their-

Grace’s eyes widened in shock, an involuntary gasp leaving her pursed lips.

“Yes, love- happy anniversary! I hope it’s a suitable surprise. It took me a while to really get to grips with how to present everything, but that book you lent me really-“ Dahlia continued to gush happily, smiling and staring at the demure woman in her arms.

“I-I love it! I love you, and I’m so… Wow! Just, I can’t believe, this is all just so exciting!” With many a breathy gasp, she finally got it out- and let her face redden as Dahlia outlined the evening…

Grace certainly wouldn’t have chosen the matching dress that Dahlia had (secretly) obtained and altered for her, but it fit her just as well as one of her favorites. The shimmering silver accents for hers complimented the velveteen black ones on Dahlia’s dress, and although white sequins weren’t available, a smattering of gold-yellow dotted certain areas on the dress. Of course, Dahlia had only worn the beret for the surprise factor- but Grace insisted that they properly match for a night at the restaurant, and so they did.

[thepearlyone]

Dahlia & Grace (the first one)

apparently I have never put it here, and that will change lol

Enjoy! The second part can be found in my Hyp-November post earlier

Dahlia sighed, flopping down on the bed of the two-room apartment. The bed shook slightly more than it did usually, which meant that she should have Grace look at it again- but it held firm against the exhausted prototypical goth girl. Although she never really matched the aesthetic, Dahlia rightly earned her place amongst her peers as the rougher and tougher one. Her classically unkempt crimson/midnight-colored hair didn’t flow down to her shoulders as much as it zig-zagged, even after the haircut Grace had helped her with picking out from the mundane hairdresser’s catalog. Things that were ‘in season’ didn’t quite jive with her, so Dahlia had put in a little work to make it her own- her hair being the prime example of that, with an asymmetrical bob cut and portions being shaved…

The doorbell chimed, perking up Dahlia’s limp mood immediately. What flowed in through the door with effortless ease was, fittingly, Grace- now clad in what must have been her third outfit for the day, hands full with immaculately clean bags from the grocery store.

“Hello, Dahlia!” Even though Dahlia had just gotten back from another long shift, the energy effusing from Grace was enough to perk up her spirits. The charming girl from just a few towns away caught her attention immediately, with-

“Dear, could you come take this bag from my hands? I’ve gotten it down to just one bag in the stairwell this time.” This roused Dahlia from her stupor, who leapt into action to help out the cute-as-a-polished-button-on-one-of-her-own-vintage-dresses Grace.

After a bit of bustling, Grace twirled subconsciously and sat down with the poise of a… well, Dahlia could never place it. Swans didn’t really have poise, and although she was usually one for being rowdy, Grace brought out something much softer- and vice versa. Albeit that more primal side of Grace was not brought out often.

“What would you like for dinner, Grace?” Dahlia smiled, trying to stop staring at the perennially pleasant roommate. Her smooth reply was almost instant- a dish that Dahlia could effortlessly finish in around half an hour, which would give both of them just a bit of time alone to relax and reflect on the day.

Grace had gone back to her room to nap for the half hour, and Dahlia’s softer rapping on her door roused the slumbering one. “oh. Be right there!”

The duo happily chatted during their dinnertime ritual, which involved a bit of commiserating, some unwinding, and suggestions of what to do afterwards. One such suggestion brought a slight blush to an already red-framed face.

“Well… I know you’ve brought it up before, but I don’t know that tonight would be a good night to try it.” This brought a classy smirk to Grace’s visage, and a laughing snort to the area around them. After they both straightened up, one from laughing and the other from embarrassment of the idea, Grace sighed and calmly spoke.

“Dahlia… Look into my eyes.” The twin sapphires almost twinkled as Dahlia’s attention snapped to them. Her impeccably tilted beret fuzzed out of her view as Grace just stared at her. There was something beautiful about her voice- much calmer, a hint of the sultry that was to follow…

“my dearest… I want you to go lie down in your special spot. You remember which one that is?” Dahlia slowly nodded, keeping her gaze focused- affixed- centered-

“Good girl.” Dahlia gasped, blinking and coming to her senses. Though her brain hadn’t caught up with it yet, it was clear to her they’d done this before- and she had loved it just the same as she would tonight. So, she leisurely propped up and prepared the place, a few pillows and blankets that were typically from around the apartment now sandwiched between the couch she slept on and the one Dahlia’s parents had given her.. The special spot. Dahlia bit her lip in anticipation.

Grace, on the other hand, hummed quietly to herself, trotting off to her room to change clothes from the vintage navy-blue dress right out of a catalog from 1963 into her ‘calming Dahlia’ outfit- a soft black sundress that was shorter than usual, a pair of classic earrings, and the perfect necklace that Dahlia had picked out for her. Although it wasn’t totally the same as before, the simple black stone had been perfect as a one-year anniversary present for moving in (as roommates, then) and as an expression of Dahlia’s cute little goth thing. Its surface shimmered as if a million small diamonds had been glued onto it, but with a certain subdued charm- which was why Grace thought it was fantastic.

Dahlia shuddered even just seeing Grace emerge from her den- already primed for the cool relaxing touch of Grace’s supple hands. She strode with purpose, reveling in Dahlia’s calmed demeanor, that primal rage that often manifested- now tamed and docile…

“shhhhh…” She swayed slightly, knowing that Dahlia’s eyes would catch first on her earrings, then her necklace- just like she’d been trained to do all these years.

“Good girl. Take another deep breath and let your eyes focus…” The necklace quickly came off, hovering slightly above and in front of Dahlia, and with a slight movement of Grace’s fingers, spun in front of the calmed captive’s eyes.

“Good girl… just relax, and remember- remember your conditioning, your nice safe sweet special spot you enjoy so much…” A soft moan from Dahlia, and her relaxed head slowly swung backwards- which Grace carefully caught and cradled. Although Dahlia’s eyes would occasionally flutter open, Grace made sure to keep the black crystal catching the soft light and turning in front of the soft empty-headed face in front of her. It was almost pretty and beautiful enough to make her coo delightedly.

If this was how Wednesday went, Grace couldn’t wait to see how her normal conditioning on Saturday would go. And when she could remember, Dahlia would too.

[thepearlyone]

Business and Pleasure

[part of a quick-prompts thing! enjoy!]

Percy beamed, the word slipping right from Evan’s mouth and right into his frontal lobe- but even further, burrowing into his nucleus accumbens. It was like watching a firework in slow motion, except every single bolt of light felt so GOOD. His eyelids fluttered and struggled to remain open as his body succumbed to the effects-

Rose sat a bit to his right, her camera rolling in the perfect way only an antique could, recording the entire thing. She signed to Evan, “Are you sure that you feel comfortable with me here?” He replied with a happy nod, signing back “Yes, Rose. Thank you very much for-“

“Cut the business crap” she shot back, smirking, but careful not to make any sudden movements or sounds. He nodded sheepishly, then tenderly signed back something only she would understand. Had they been in a café as normal, the three of them chatting as good friends, she would have laughed and continued with the conversation. But now, Rose was in the midst of their intimacy- something she had never seen before, and felt odd about.

Earlier, their discussion included many different things, but watching Percy struggle and fight- clearly in the throes of whatever had overtaken him… -had changed things. Rose was certain both men were enjoying it, but they would definitely be having another conversation later to hear his perspective.

The microphone crackled with a bit of static, causing Rose to tense up and quickly fix the issue. She signaled ‘all clear’ to Evan, who leaned closer, whispering something into the seated man’s ear.

Another bolt of lightning struck Percy, another deep groan as he involuntarily repositioned himself in the chair, muscles weakening from the sheer tension. Such an explosion of satisfaction left his mouth open even as the sound left the room. Drool began to drip down, dampening the fine suit- although much of it fell on that ‘cheap tie’ he always wore.

The effort required on Evan’s part was monumental- to not hold back one of his classic hearty cackles that always caused the three of them to all start a fit of laughter. It was clear that they were in love- seeing Percy so weak, obedient, and happy made him feel all sugary and sappy. Oh, and sympathetically laughing at him- but in a loving way.

Percy began to take even deeper breaths, his head spinning. Even seated and doing nothing, his heart began to race, pumping such bliss fully throughout his body as commanded by Evan. He grasped onto the arms of the chair, struggling to maintain even a modicum of coherency. Something in between his legs stiffened even further. It was now visually clear to both people in the room that Percy was long gone, no longer thinking of anything.

“Let’s see if we can make that tongue loll out further, shall we?” Evan signed to Rose, who giggled, her blush beginning to fade.

“Yes, let’s..”

 Rose smirked, seeing the same suit from the day before. Although it was only slightly wrinkled, only the three of them knew what it had been up to. She signed one of the words to Peter, who blushed furiously- but was unable to retaliate in the moment.

At lunch, the only words he had were- “Don’t you know what they say about not mixing business with pleasure?”

Of course, she only needed to say one word.

[thepearlyone]

My (belated and feeble) attempts at a Hyp-November

Hi all! Been quite a bit since I’ve posted something here. No, I’ve not vanished either, it’s just that my muses seem to prefer toying me along or focusing on video games and such. Beneath the cut are a Pearly pair of hypno-stories I worked on in November. One of them is a continuation of the Dahlia and Grace story... so enjoy!

[Prompt: Trapped]

He surveyed his surroundings, eyebrow furling in surprise and shock.

“Trapped? There’s no way. I mean, for all the work you’ve put into it… I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s kind of just a garage.” The ramshackle placement of all the boxes certainly didn’t help, and as his head turned, he could see more of the dusty room. Much of it was lined in this silver metallic film, with a few obvious glimpses of the piled-up furniture. And of course he’d picked today to wear his nicer suit…

The kidnapper was silent for a good long while… then sniffled.

“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that. Come on, buddy- cheer up! You managed to kidnap me, didn’t you?” This elicited a nod. Still a rather sad one. He sighed, shrugging off the handcuffs with little effort and now letting his hands idly play with the rope binding his ankles.

The sad kidnapper looked up and laughed a little- something that unnerved him. They then sighed for another very long breath- finishing it off with the phrase. “You’re trapped.”

“I’m sorry, I really don’t mean to cramp your style… but seriously, I got the handcuffs off-” This caused the kidnapper to turn around again- into the black curtain hanging from the rafters.

“So as I was saying, I really don’t understand how I could be trapped at all.” The kidnapper seemed to be stripping just inside of the black curtain… Yeesh, this sounded something like out of one of those raunchy movies he’d watch with-

~~~~~

He awoke again, rope nowhere in sight. Nor were the handcuffs. Just him, lying on the floor of the same room- dusty garage feel and silver foil and everything. Curiously, everything seemed to be the same… except for the note on the chair.

‘Obligatus vinctum’. Latin, wasn’t it? Although he’d never taken latin courses, he swore he knew someone who did… but he couldn’t remember who. Was it one of his parents? Someone close to him? His… well he wouldn’t have one of those, maybe he had a boyf-

~~~~~

The soft groaning woke him again, only for him to realize who exactly was groaning. The silver foil circle, the odd black curtain being the only thing to punctuate it… He was still here in what he called the dusty garage. He uneasily slid back onto his feet, muttering to himself:

“Right- that’s it. Too many odd things have happened here. I’m going to step right over this stupid little silver-“

~~~~~

The gentle prodding woke him. The kidnapper again. He muttered, sleepily swatting away the masked madperson’s stick- only for it to return more painfully in one of his ribs.

“I’m up! I’m up. Ugh.” He quickly rose to see them grinning much wider than before, and dusted his suit off indignantly before looking back to see them gesturing in the chair.

“chair. Please.” Their face definitely seemed familiar…

“Hold on… do I know you from somewhere?” His puzzled expression elicited no such reaction from the kidnapper. With a sigh and the threat of another prod, he sank into the finely polished oak chair- even more disappointed than before. This whole thing would be ineffectual…

The kidnapper dragged out a handheld camera, as well as a TV on a small cart- with no power cord, oddly enough. With the kidnapper using one hand to steady the camera and the other to film, maybe… hmm. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to escape. After all, he still had no idea where he was, and fending off the kidnapper wouldn’t do much in the long or short term...

Seconds after he sat down, the TV flicked on, and immediately everything made sense.

He lost himself in the beautiful fuzzing image, the immaculate persona he once held in the highest regard slowly fading into oblivion. The kidnapper (with no mask, but maintaining the soft cashmere gloves he hadn’t noticed earlier) gently petted and tousled his soft hair as his eyes fluttered- obviously sinking deeper.

“shhhhh… that’s my good boy. Good boy… just keep relaxing. So trapped in my soft silvery control…” His boyfriend would be so glad when he’d finally accept and give in-  this might finally be the weekend he could get it on tape. Of course, there was always next weekend…

[Prompt: Safety]

Dahlia grinned sleepily, her eyes fluttering gently- thanks to her girlfriend’s soft cooing words, as well as the hand on her scalp that kept massaging the faux redhead. Grace had pulled out all the stops tonight, so she was going to have to try hard to thank her later. First, the dinner was excellent- since it happened to be Grace’s turn to fix (but she always kept her apron and dress immaculate, and also eye-catchingly beautiful). Then, Grace had gotten out one of her more… Eye-catching dresses that always made Dahlia much softer and more vulnerable.

“That’s my sleepy girl. Just keep relaxing and letting me help you…”

As Grace would say, ‘Goodness’, she was so malleable. And something else… With a soft whimper, her eyes finally shut for good. Another soft moan floated from her lips, drawn out by a kiss on her neck. Although Dahlia couldn’t see it, she knew it would leave a little red ring of the perfect lipstick that she always wore… the whole outfit with the earrings and stone and everything was, well- perfect. Immaculate.

Relaxed. Obedient. Listening… open… wait… hold on

“shhhhh… it’s okay. Do you remember this week’s word?” She mumbled and shook her head into the petting, her eyes opening ever so slightly.

“You’re safe like this. So safe with me, Dahlia.” Her cheeks flushed, shuddering happily with both pleasure and agreement, the solace of her girlfriend’s gentle guidance…

“mrrrr… safe…”

“That’s right, darling. So safe. So relaxed… dropping just a little bit and enjoying it even more…” That happy little cooing gave her so much.. Everything. It was indescribable, but Dahlia hoped and wished she could. Her body fell just a bit more limp and relaxed into it.

Grace guided her even deeper… and then Dahlia felt her mind returning. Everything was different- she was no longer in the corner, but instead in one of Grace’s dresses, sitting up in front of the desk and mirror she had. This was one of the more surprising things Grace had asked for… but Dahlia wasn’t too perturbed by it, and she recalled discussing something earlier that night… but… wow.

“…uh… Grace?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Why did you… uh… dress me… up…” Her head swirled just slightly into a light calming trance, looking at her own hair and makeup. Grace had lovingly swept it towards one side and down, and used just a bit of blush and some foundation to touch up her cheeks.

“Because you’re so lovely. And I wanted to help you feel how I do when I dress up a little for-“ Grace quickly clammed up, her own cheeks beginning to blush.

“for me? Oh!! I, uh…” Dahlia turned back to her own reflection- and the calming wave swept her up. She noticed the special earrings Grace always wore when calming her, and the nice soft yellow dress she liked…

Grace kissed her again, and her mind relaxed, utterly calm… knowing it was utterly safe, able to fall deep and relax…

[thepearlyone]

Cold in Summer

Hey friends and followers! I know it’s been a while, but I’ve been very busy for quite some time. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my latest attempt to get back into writing fun things with this. It’s a bit of fanfiction done for a friend involving Bucky Barnes and Dima (new character). Warning- things are assumed to be consensual and all hypno-MC-flavored. so read on at your own risk!

originally written for @toybandaids

“You are sure you want to do this?” The little lilt in his voice was so cute that Bucky’s smile turned even more upward at it. Dima’s right hand gently scraped against his own left hand- a reminder of both of their struggles, or as he might put it, their Uniqueness. He really loved that word.

“Djamehs, I don’t want you to-“

“Dima, please.” The calm ‘Winter Soldier’ exterior melted underneath the heat of Dima’s star to reveal the need within him. With a sigh, and more than a soft chuckle, the lanky behemoth took another step towards the tense (but slowly softening) mountain.

“Togda ladno, zvezda moya.” As much as Bucky hated it, Dima had always had an interior warmth to his pronunciation of the last words- some sort of calm fireplace coziness- that even being called a little star didn’t really faze him much. By this point, it was almost just another nickname for him. But this would help almost. [okay then, my star]

His little smile and (well, Dima tried to be gentle) tap on the chin as Bucky relaxed into the smooth crinkling plastic lawn chair just caused himself to chuckle a little, even as Bucky found himself unable to properly clear his head. Dima had even cut his hair- once, but he found out later that Dima liked a nice head of hair, and besides, the whole ‘metal hand’ thing made that sort of romantic gesture nigh impossible. No company really wanted to make full rubber-coated handled scissors, and even with Tony’s help-

Dima had gotten into position while Bucky had been in the clouds, a certain red notebook snapping him back to reality, his heart rate already accelerating as a result. Dima cleared his throat, setting the metronome at his side gently swinging. Psychologically, Bucky knew that Dima was using a mock notebook. Physiologically, he didn’t.

Dima’s metal hand plunged into the depths of his stretched overcoat, the old captain’s hat on his head making sure to play up the dramatic elements. Although the heat was real, the illusory winter creeped in at the edges of Bucky’s vision, narrowing his focus onto not only Dima’s hat, but Dima himself. It was then that Dima brought out the nice pendant…

Bucky had seen it in a pawn shop- and although it was only some form of aventurine, it impossibly caught the light in ways he couldn’t begin to comprehend. At that time, Dima was just a friend of a friend, but now-

Dima held it up before the steel-blue sparkling unfocused eyes, his right hand dangling it carefully. The leather cord caused it to spin just half a turn, immediately catching his attention. This made Dima grin. Such an easy toy…

“So, little soldier…” The eerie impression crept back into Dima’s eyes, coloring his tongue in a nasty silver, coating his words with the hatred of Hydra. For Dima, it was only accentuating the accent in a certain way, unlearning almost six months of speech therapy- but for Bucky, it was almost flawlessly terrifying. The plastic garden chair bent with a single grasping of the titanium arm, as if invisible restraints were still there, and the events of a long winter had just started to resurface like an old hidden submarine.

“Let us see if you remember these words, little soldier.” Dima was truly careful in his part of the endeavor not to encourage the pain too much- but he knew that these memories would be truly dangerous indeed. The black gem shimmered, twirling again from another deft turn from the new-and-improved hand.

“Longing.” Initially, only one of the icy hands had gripped the green lawn chair, but now both did. Firmly grasping their respective armrest, each verdant strip was supporting a new source of tension. It was a good thing the couple had more chairs.

“Rusted.” Of course, the tension could not last. A cold snap in the middle of the word signaled to Dima that he should keep up the act- but only for a little longer. Things could get dangerous. Although it would not be the first time, nor the last, Dima preferred to be the one who was already prepared to strike.

“Furnace.” A moan of anguish- or perhaps a yell. Bucky was no longer breathing in time with the metronome, so Dima slowed down. With the first triad completed, he knew he had to tread carefully in starting the second. Thank goodness they had different sets of- and now would be a good time.

“Daybreak.” Just out of the corner of his eye, Dima noticed the crystal slowly swaying- and Bucky’s head following it. Good. He wanted to do a little more work with ‘hees dJamehs’ later.

“Seventeen.” Dima then turned towards Bucky’s head again in performing the all-too familiar ritual, and spotted something he didn’t expect- tears. Although they were just starting to well up in the lachrymal area, they were certainly large enough to signify the kind of pain Dima was hesitant to bring up again. Perhaps only one more word would do it, if he should even continue. To Bucky, there was only a moment’s pause- enough for a deep breath- but Dima had spent a minute deliberating.

“Benign.” It was at that moment Bucky finally knelt- and Dima knew that he had gone too far. He whisked the crystal away back into the oversized jacket pocket, throwing them down and kneeling alongside his little star. As Bucky’s eyes slowly came back into focus, he felt a soft hand petting his unkempt umber hair reassuring him that it was okay to come back, it was okay, there was no base, they were in the lawn.

The waves of heat rolled back over the couple, melting away the shivering ice that had enthralled them both. Dima still slowly pet Bucky’s head, unaware that he was now smiling and crying- until a laugh spilled out, defusing the scene.

~~~

After a little more than an hour of decompression and discussion, they had both gotten into a new chair- Dima a self-made plastic and wooden abomination, one that properly accommodated the mountain of a younger man, and Bucky one of the hundreds of plastic garden chairs he’d picked up from a yard sale. Both of them no longer sweltered in the sun, but languished in the shade. Bucky leaned and picked up his drink from the ground, the condensation leaving another quickly disappearing ring on the concrete, swinging it up to meet his face when something-

Since when had that hook been there on the ceiling? And the bla-

Dima snapped his left hand. “Sleep, little one.” The reassuring voice came back, winking the little star out into a relaxed darkness. Bucky’s body slowly stirred (some parts less slow than others) as Dima gently stroked his hair, whispering and leading the soldier’s right arm back down towards the valley between two columns...

[thepearlyone]

Sci Fi Thing

So, for a while now, I’ve been wanting to write a sci-fi type thing, and I just completed a small bit of it. Here’s a preview, with character bio-descriptions at the end in case you were confused.

“Well, we’re certainly glad to have you aboard… um… your name?” I supposed I really wasn’t up with Kleiver customs, but I did know the language thanks to a few data cubes.

“Bogwader, sir. I know it may seem odd, but th-“

“Ah, you’re a Marshperson. It makes some sense, although I will say that you don’t look like any other Marshpeople I’ve seen.” The captain turned back towards the gaping sunburnt maw of the ship, gesturing for me to carry my supplies in. I sighed, knowing my peoples’ affinity for correction or distaste for the nickname was most likely lost on him.

“Mr. Bogwader, your room is passenger quarter 6. Ever been on a Leodop before?” I shook my head, carrying in half of my supplies and being careful to carry the jar of Soul Mud in one of my arms. The captain helped, turning around and noticing I’d left behind a few of my favorite cultural niceties, and tried to help. I happened to notice a Durgi swinging through the large rafters, and paused as it… well, they swung towards us, using two of their eight hands to soften the blow and land gracefully on the floor. I nodded, hopefully with an expression of mixed surprise and nervous adoration.

“K’ezamir, from the fine city of N’Ish-Aleh at your service. I’d be glad to help carry those in for you, sir.” I bristled slightly, his hand going straight for the jar in my arm.

“I would appreciate anything but this, if you don’t mind. It’s got a certain importance to my people.” His soft green eyes stared directly into mine, and I seemed to get a sense that he was of a kindred spirit in that regard.

“My apologies, I haven’t been up on my [planet name] as of late. I do hope you’ll excuse that cultural slip.” I beamed at him, bowing respectfully.

“And I yours, K’Ezzamir of N’Ish-Allah?” Upon seeing his eyes cloud slightly, I knew I had stumbled, and bowed again. “There is still time, and I wish to learn.” His eyes brightened again, softening the screwup and accepting my apology.

“I think we should move things along, Hand. And Mr. Bogwader, of course.” The captain must have examined our interaction with some sort of eye towards the curious, since he didn’t move us forward or try to intrude. K’ezamir, or ‘Hand’, as the captain referred to him… hefted much of my luggage, with the captain grabbing what was left as I carefully handled my Soul Mud jar.

Characters and important information:

Bogwader: Main character, eventually becomes a standard member of the crew, from the ‘Marshpeople’ but was originally from another planet and orphaned. Marshpeople are highly curious, valuing corrections and true information, and hate their nickname. However, the true name of their planet is kept a secret to many, and is revered by all Marshpeople.

Captain: Is a Kleiver, the prototypical ‘quasi-human’ race. more to be added.

K’ezamir: Durgi (plural, Durgas), 8-armed race with blue skin, Green eyes is unusual for them but K’ezamir pulls them off well. more to be added.

[thepearlyone]

I Wear Their Sunglasses At Night (WIP, name pending)

“I’m sorry, you didn’t sign this.” The officer handed back my form, briskly but not angrily. It was quite clear that she was just doing her job, but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t still pissed. I took it back, staring at the line it said. Signature of Co-Owner?

“Yeah, of course I didn’t sign it. I don’t know what the hell it means.” She sighed, placing her white gloved hand just above her eyebrows.

“Sir, have you been aware of any of the changes to the government in the past six months? Any of the laws that have been openly circulated, openly discussed, and fully unveiled to the community? Any of them at all?” She was quite… angry with me.

“Um… I should say yes, but quite frankly, no. I haven’t had enough time to really get down to city hall, what with almost losing my job twi-“

“Sir, I’m going to have to arrest you if you can’t legally fill out this form.” According to me, I paused for a moment and thoughtfully reflected on my situation. According to the report they filed out and the fact that I was then staying in a prison cell, things didn’t go so well.

I paid my bail, (well, my boss had to come and bail me out) and tried to just go home. However, they still needed that form, which confused me to no end. What the hell could this form even be about?

---

My lawyer shook my hand, laughing a bit. “Open and shut case, good sir.” He smiled, stretching his pantyhose-clad legs up onto his deck. His office looked as if it had changed a lot over the past year, although I didn’t really put that together at the time. He was dressed rather oddly, with a traditional brown tweed jacket and suit, but pantyhose? And some strange choice of shoes, too.

“Okay, that’s great!” I sighed in relief.

“Well, I wouldn’t say great for you, Mr. Richards. I think almost with 90 percent certainty you’re going to lose your job, house, and self-ownership. BUT! Before you say anything about that, the state will provide one for each of those. Would you like me to try and explain your legal case and how you should plead?” My jaw had hit the floor. Not only was this floozy going to make me lose everything, but self-ownership? What the hell? I apparently was so shocked I couldn’t respond, so he took that as an excuse to drone on for a bit.

“Now, Mr. Richards, you have no choice but to plead guilty to four separate counts of violating the recent changes to the legal system due to the Brow-… oh, fine, the BELT-Hanford Act, and I must warn you that if you criticize someone’s clothing (especially mine) you’re going to be facing an additional charge and some longer time…” I zoned out totally here.

“Alright,” I finally cut in after a while, “So what does that mean for me? What the hell do you mean, self-ownership?”

“Oh! I was just getting to that.” He was now strolling back and forth, smiling and apparently having gotten up while I was zoned out. He seemed really poised on his feet, and somehow energized.

“You’re going to be given an Owner. And yes, that’s the specific legal language. They’re going to guard you from your own self-destructive tendencies, provide for you, and eventually help rehabilitate you back into normal society. After a few months, you’ll go through a few stages of relaxed control, and eventually get your ability to do things without your Owner’s permission.” He giggled.

“You think something’s f-“ I immediately stopped talking, my mouth freezing in midair. I couldn’t move it. Like, at all.

“You just tried to cuss, didn’t you? Ahh, that’s a relief. Otherwise you’d probably start cussing me out and calling me a liar. However, I feel that your mute mouth is proof enough that you’re under a lot more burdens than you are led to believe.” I immediately started looking around for some weird computer that could be controlling my… movements? That didn’t make sense at the time, but I knew later that I wouldn’t have found anything.

“What the…” I yelled, but quickly grabbed my mouth. “What did you do to me?”

“Under the Prisoner Protection Act of the BELT-Hanford laws, any prisoners are to be equipped with certain inabilities. One of which is cursing. Of course, your Owner, when they’re appointed to you, can remove these inabilities.” I growled, putting my face in my hands.

“Please tell me that you’re going to make sure that my… owner… is responsible?” The lawyer laughed.

“Well, that’s partly your decision. Your behavior up to this point and beyond is going to affect the judge’s verdict, not just your initial crimes and any you pick up along the way.”

---