Downward Dog Pt. 01

"I think that sums up the mailbox issue," said Heather Brandt with satisfaction. She turned her fierce green stare towards Linda Carmichael, daring her to object. Linda was clearly still upset by Heather's decision, but in the face of Heather's challenging gaze, she dipped her eyes in submission and stayed silent.

Just like things should be, thought Heather smugly. With the dirt that Heather had on Linda, the timid little housewife knew better than to step out of line. No matter how badly her husband wanted a tacky novelty mailbox.

If Linda was stupid enough to question Heather's iron rule of the suburb's homeowners association and social scene, she would be drowned in a tide of nasty rumors.

"Just one last agenda item," said Heather primly, using a well-manicured hand to sweep back her waves of deep red hair, "The new occupant of 221 Sandhill."

The other members of the HOA looked at each other nervously. Gossip traveled rapidly through the suburb, and they already knew about their leader's displeasure with the new resident.

"Filthy car, no lawn care, no yard decoration, loud television use at all hours, unkempt appearance, odor problems," said Heather, her shining green eyes growing cold and steely as she rattled off the list of what were, in her opinion, unforgivable offenses.

"He can't even put out his garbage cans correctly," said Heather with disdain. "I can confirm all of these issues from personal experience, because, as you are all aware, Mr. Carver is my next-door neighbor." No one dared to speak. It wasn't wise to interrupt Queen Brandt once she was on a rampage.

"Sandra, I want you over to his house to measure his lawn. If it's a centimeter over, I want the fine in the mail by end of day," snapped Heather. Sandra nervously bobbed her head in compliance.

"George, I want you at his house while he is at work. Take photos of the paint on his house. The guidelines on chipping and fading are vague. We can use that to our advantage. Find examples of both and send them to me." George nodded, scribbling on his notepad.

"I need someone to make a noise complaint call tonight," continued Heather, her eyes making contact with her lackeys around the room, "If too many complaints come from me, the police will start to disregard them."

Linda timidly raised a hand. "I can make a call, Heather," She said sheepishly. Heather smiled and gave her an indulgent nod, "Thank you, Linda." It was important to welcome her followers back into the fold when they recognized her dominance properly.

"Ummm, excuse me?" said a mousy middle-aged woman in glasses, "It seems improper to use our powers as the HOA to target an individual we have personal problems with." The short woman was frowning with a determined look on her face.

Heather sighed.

Why couldn't people be more like dogs? Her beloved corgi Trigger had started to get a little unruly this past summer, so they had hired a local girl as a trainer. Heather had listened raptly as the trainer explained how to discipline dogs. The key was to establish yourself as the Alpha. Once dogs saw you as the leader, they were loyal and eager to please, responding unfailingly to punishments and rewards. Humans were more complicated: they were always testing and questioning and raising objections. It was exhausting.

Heather supposed it was necessary to reestablish her Alpha credentials.

The woman who had spoken up had moved into the neighborhood fairly recently. This was her first Homeowners' Association meeting. Well, it was time that she learned how things worked around here.

"That's one perspective, Muriel," said Heather delicately. The rest of the room watched in terrified anticipation, barely daring to breathe. "But another way to think about it is that we're protecting the neighborhood. If we have a loud, dirty neighbor, it could lower all of our property values."

Muriel shook her head with a grimace. She looked like she was about to say something, but Heather overrode her with the solid, unstoppable momentum of a steamroller: "For example, if someone moved into the neighborhood, and their husband had three DUIs in the past... Well, it might just be better to let everyone know, so they could watch out while driving."

Heather watched with satisfaction as Muriel's grew white with shock. Heather didn't let anyone join the HOA unless she was certain she had what she needed to keep them under her thumb. Older women always assumed that they could treat the younger Heather like a little girl. But Heather was the Alpha, and everyone else in this suburb was just her loyal bitches.

"I think you'll be helping us out by making a noise complaint tonight, right Muriel?" asked Heather sweetly.

"Y-yes, Heather," said the new member obediently.

"Good girl," said Heather.

...

It had been a productive meeting. Heather was sure that the repugnant Mr. Carver wouldn't be able to last long against the blizzard of fines.

Heather was in an excellent mood right up until she got home and noticed the blue car in the driveway. She frowned. That was Jackie's car. Why was the dog trainer here so late? Trigger's last walk should have been over an hour ago. Was something wrong with her precious pup?

She rushed inside, worried about her corgi, only to find a much different problem happening on the living room couch.

Her husband Luke was right in the middle of a passionate make-out session with their 19-year-old dog trainer and walker, Jackie.

One of Jackie's small hands was busy inside Luke's pants, while the other ran its fingers through his thick blond hair. As the young woman noticed Heather, standing shocked and appalled in the doorway, she didn't react with surprise or fear. Instead, the little brat fucking smiled against her husband's mouth, her lovely almond-shaped eyes glittering with amusement as she increased the speed of her hand.

Heather Brandt took a deep breath, staring at the impudent little brat enjoying her husband, and screamed her rage.

...

"I know that you are highly in demand," said Heather Brandt in an annoyed tone, bouncing a foot irritably on her crossed leg, "But I have to say, it really is poor customer service to make me wait so long for a meeting, Miss Faria."

Faria cooly assessed the women seated in her office. Heather Brandt gave the impression of wild, dangerous beauty carefully tamed and controlled. Her long dark red hair was lustrous and thick, and her deep green eyes flashed with confident intelligence. She was a tall, imposing woman, with a curvy hourglass figure hidden completely by her extremely conservative blouse and mom jeans. Where was the fun in having such captivatingly round breasts if you insisted on covering them up? thought Faria sourly.

"Well, my apologies, ma'am," responded Faria sardonically, "Would you like to speak to my manager?"

Heather's eyes narrowed as the joke landed. She was clearly a woman who was used to being the biggest bitch in the room. Faria was absolutely certain that every stranger Heather met had the same word flash through their mind.

Karen.

Faria knew better than to say the word aloud. Karens usually objected to the nickname strongly, and even if she had a personal distaste for Heather Brandt, it was her habit to treat potential clients with courtesy.

Although Heather gave off a strong aura of authority and confidence, Faria could sense a certain... fragility in the woman's pushy attitude. People who were truly confident and in control rarely had to grab for power so desperately.

"I don't find this funny, Miss Faria," said Heather in an affronted voice, drawing herself up to her imposing full height, "I hope that you are treating this issue with the respect it deserves."

"Of course, Ms. Brandt," said Faria placatingly, "Now, what seems to be the problem."

"The 'problem' is that a little slut seduced my husband," said Heather furiously.

Faria nodded, painting her face with what she hoped was an appropriate amount of sympathy. "Tell me what happened. Give me the context."

Heather sighed as if the request were the most unreasonable thing in the world, her arms crossed tightly over her impressive chest. "Several months ago, a woman by the name of Mei Song moved into our humble suburb. You may not have heard of her, but she's a party planner and interior designer for the rich and famous."

Faria had heard of Mei Song, who seemed like she was slumming it by moving out to the suburbs. She had no desire to interrupt Heather's story though. She motioned the tall busty woman to continue.

"As members of the Homeowners Association, we have been anxious to welcome Ms. Song, but she has been a bit... standoffish."

Faria could imagine. Someone with as much power and wealth as Mei Song would probably not be caught dead rubbing elbows with the losers pursuing their petty power games in a suburban HOA. She could also see how Mei's casual disdain would get under the skin of someone like Heather, who loved to think of herself as the queen bee of the neighborhood.

"I heard that Mei's daughter Jacqueline, or Jackie as they call her, was a dog trainer in her spare time, and my dog had been having some discipline issues. So in the spirit of improving relations between Mei and me, I hired her daughter for the summer. " Heather frowned severely, her eyes clouding over as she pictured walking in on that little whore with her husband.

"You've brought along a picture of Jackie, as I requested?" asked Faria, extending a slim hand.

Heather opened a rather old-fashioned purse and handed Faria a printed-out photo. It showed a stunning young Asian woman in a volleyball uniform, doing a cute but contrived pose, looking over her shoulder, hands on hips, with one foot up and resting on its toe. Obviously a school photo.

"And this is a current photograph?" said Faria dubiously, raising an eyebrow as Ms. Brandt.

"Recent enough," said Heather placidly, "She was in high school last year after all."

Faria could see Heather's intent easily. Her choice of photo demonstrated how she saw Jackie, how she wanted Jackie to be: an immature little girl messing with someone older and wiser than her.

Either Heather had chosen poorly, or there weren't any photos that would convey the impression that Heather wanted Faria to have.

The long raven ponytail hanging down the young woman's back looked as fine and rich as satin. Her delicate features were calm and composed, but her glittering eyes promised mischief. The tight, sinuous little body Jackie had was obvious even in the conservatively cut sportswear. Her stance had a poise and energy that implied imminent movement, not to mention showcasing her firm, shapely ass.

Jesus Christ, had eighteen-year-old Jackie Song been trying to fuck the school photographer, or was this the crackling sexual energy that she brought to all of her interactions? Had her wicked body and naughty eyes gotten better or worse in the year since this was taken? Faria wasn't a huge fan of Heather Brandt, but this project might be worth it just to get to know Jackie Song a little more intimately.

Faria looked back up at Heather. "Continue."

Heather grimaced. "There isn't much more to say. Jackie and I disliked each other almost instantly. Jacquelyn Song is a horrible little brat. You'll see when you meet her. But she was good at her job, so she continued working with Trigger. My husband Luke works from home, and Jackie had a chance to... influence him on a daily basis. I didn't realize what was going on until I walked in on them kissing. Luckily I found out before their sad little affair had progressed to sex."

It sounded to Faria like Jackie had wanted to be caught. It was likely that the whole thing was much more about Heather and Jackie's mutual dislike than any serious desire for Heather's husband. A woman with a sense of superiority as fragile as Heather Brandt's would never be able to let such a thing slide.

Well, seducing your boss's husband just to piss her off certainly qualified as a punishable offense in Faria's book.

"And what is your desired effect? How would you like Jackie to be hypnotized?" asked Faria.

"It seems like Jackie likes older men," said Heather, her face cruel and triumphant, "Well, I know that a nursing home nearby is asking for volunteers to read to lonely residents. I think a young woman of Jackie's tastes could make some lonely old men very, very happy. Don't you?"

Faria considered for a moment, then shrugged. She had no other particularly interesting projects going on right now, and Jackie Song might be a very interesting target indeed.

"I'll follow up with this project. The price is set at 12,000 dollars."

"Done!" said Heather cheerfully, already reaching for her checkbook.

...

Jackie Song's eyes were focused and calculating, even as her muscles were fixed in position and her mouth silenced by Faria's hypnotic control.

Faria had seen many reactions to her hypnosis from targets, ranging from panic to fury. But cool, composed rationality was one of the rarest. Jackie Song was clearly a young woman with a strong will and a sharp mind, qualities that Faria appreciated.

Jackie had other qualities that Faria appreciated as well. Her breasts were a touch rounder than in the year-old photo that Heather had supplied, her hips a bit fuller. But she still had the long shining black hair, the wicked eyes, and the lithe, petite body that had caught Faria's interest in the first place. Faria cleared her throat and adjusted her voice to the special pitch that would influence Jackie's brainwaves.

*You may speak, but only at a normal conversational volume.*

Jackie actually remained silent for a moment, as if making it clear that she would speak only when she chose.

"So no teeth whitening today, huh?" said the poised young woman finally with a smirk. "Unless this is some new dental technique."

Jackie sat leaned back in the dentist's chair, bound by Faria's mental chains.

Faria laughed. "No, I'm afraid you will have to reschedule your appointment, honey. A lot of people will have to, unfortunately. I had to force the whole office to cancel their appointments and leave so we could be alone all day."

"Wow! So much bother for little old me!" said Jackie. She giggled, but her eyes were cold as she asked, "What exactly is your game here, Ms....?"

"Faria," said the hypnotist, sitting on the hygienist's stool, "As you might have guessed, I'm a mesmerizist by trade. My client wants me to tinker with that pretty little head of yours. Make a few changes."

"Heather Brandt," said Jackie instantly, reading Faria's face for confirmation of her guess, "Of course it is. Trust that insecure bitch to come up with a hysterical, overblown response to every problem she comes across."

"Did you seduce her husband?" asked Faria, cutting directly to the chase.

"I didn't need to," said Jackie dismissively. She had confidence and self-possession unusual in a nineteen-year-old woman. Faria found herself intensely interested in her young captive. "Poor Lukey was like a lost puppy desperate for the love his frigid wife won't give him. He was so turned on by his cute little dog walker that he would have been the one hitting on me if Heather didn't have him so whipped."

"But, you did encourage him in order to needle Heather, correct?" demanded Faria.

"Sure. I guess that would be fair to say," said Jackie with a smile, completely unashamed.

Well, it appeared that Jackie was genuinely guilty of the crime she had been accused of. There was just one more thing to take care of...

Faria had another wrinkle to her process that she didn't advertise to her potential clients. Faria always gave her targets an opportunity to reverse the punishment back onto the client. Faria thought it was only fair, after all, no one should threaten someone else with a punishment they wouldn't risk themselves.

"By requesting my services to be performed on you, my client has wronged you at least as much as you have wronged them. Therefore I will offer you a chance to escape what is about to happen. The fee charged to my client in this instance was $12,000. If you are willing to double that price, I will offer you the chance to simply walk away, or craft a reversed punishment for her. Are you interested?"

Jackie laughed, and some of the tension left her face. "God! You scared me for a sec! Of course I'll pay. It seems a little like extortion, but it beats having you scramble my brains or whatever freaky shit you do!"

Faria smiled. On some level, she had expected this result. Sometimes she got a feeling when meeting with a client that they would end up as her target, and poor Heather Brandt had given her that suspicion immediately.

It took only minutes for Jackie Song to transfer Faria the requested sum.

"So now I get to think up a way to punish that stuck-up bitch, right?" said Jackie. Now that Faria had released her commands, she sat up in the dental chair.

"That's correct," said Faria, offering her new client a hand as she rose from her chair.

"Well, I'm just bursting with ideas," gushed the nineteen-year-old woman, "Let's go get coffee and make a plan!"

...

Faria paused for a moment at the foot of the bed, admiring her new target.

Heather Brandt dressed and acted older than her age. You could easily mistake her for a woman in her early forties from her way of speaking alone. But with her clothes removed, the truth was obvious. Heather was in her late twenties at the oldest. Her perfect creamy tits, topped with big pink nipples, had no sag at all. Her flat belly and toned, smooth thighs revealed not just a disciplined exercise routine, but also the full bloom of youth.

But the most attractive part of Heather was between her legs. Although Faria was an almost obsessive appreciator of the female form, the vagina had never topped her list of the most aesthetically pleasing body parts. Heather was making her reconsider that stance. Her pretty little pussy was smooth and soft looking. The mound between her thighs had just the right amount of squishy plumpness to make you think of what it would be like to thrust apart her delicate lips and feel the warmth of the rosy hole that could be barely seen through her tight slit.

To put it simply, Heather Brandt had a beautiful pussy.

Right now Faria's target was resting in a hypnotically induced trance, lying on top of the bedspread in her bedroom, breathing deeply and steadily, her hands folded on her belly beneath her steadily rising and falling tits.

Time to wake sleeping beauty.

When Faria clicked her fingers, Heather responded to a previously seeded command, her eyes flying open and the end of her last spoken sentence leaving her lips.

"-can't just show up at my house in the middle of... the... day..." her angry outburst trailed off in confusion. To her, it seemed as if she had warped from answering her front door to lying naked in her bed. It was probably surreal to be under hypnosis, reflected Faria. She had never experienced it herself.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Heather in the most entitled tone she could manage, "Is this how you treat your customers, Ms. Faria?" Despite her angry outburst, her body remained in its pose of restful relaxation, just as Faria had commanded.

"No, this isn't how I treat my customers, Ms. Brandt," said Faria with a cruel smile. "It is, however, exactly how I treat my targets."

Heather stared at Faria for a few moments with furious confusion before her face turned white with fear.

"You can't be serious..." Heather said in a devastated tone.

Faria shrugged, sitting on the bed near Heather's face and looking down into her wide eyes with mild sympathy. "Sorry, Heather. It's the way of the world. Jackie outmaneuvered you. You should have been more careful. Jackie really is an evil little bitch, even by my standards. You should have realized it wouldn't have been that easy."