Subclasses Ch. 08: Appendix

Appendix: Chapter 8

Entry 8.1

There she is, sitting across from me on my bed wearing naught but her subby, purple cat-eye glasses and her tangle of auburn-highlighted dirty-blonde bedhead. I had noticed Sarah before Wednesday, of course. When everyone is wearing subdued color shirts with jeans or leggings, a bright pink sundress stands out. Sarah was as beautiful then as she is now, but I know she doesn't believe that; if I tell her, she'll probably take it to mean that she's as "unattractive" now as she was then, and I couldn't bear to ruin this body for her that she finds so wondrous. If Sarah needs to split her identity, associating mostly positive qualities with her feminine identity and mostly negative ones with her masculine body and identity, then that's what she has to do; I'm not going to take that away from her.

I had noticed Sarah in September, maybe a week into the quarter, and it first occurred to me in mid-October that she might be a candidate for this arrangement I desired: someone I could help with my ability to such a degree that they would willingly submit to me so I could strengthen my ability and explore its possibilities. So, I did some research on the experiences of trans people. One thing I learned is that "splitting" is a fairly common step of early transitioning, even if, ultimately, the goal is acceptance of both one's old life and their new.

I'd been working up the nerve to introduce myself to Sarah--though at that point I didn't know her name--but that nerve hovered around zero. How do you approach a complete stranger; ask if they're trans--without offending them then and there--ask if they want a cisgender body; and convince them to follow you back to your room on the promise that you can give them one with your supernatural ability, all without freaking them out? No one's written Cold Approaches for Introducing the Supernatural for Dummies, yet. I've checked. It was really just a stroke of luck that she walked into the Viking Union on Wednesday. Or perhaps we were fated to meet. Certainly seems like fate, I think.

When there's a pause in our conversation, I say, "I want to talk more specifically about your kinks," in my dominant tone. I mentally bookmark this point in time for later machinations.

"Yes, Mistress." Sarah actually says that; that's her automatic response to my domme voice. God, that's hot. I feel a thrill deep between my legs. She shifts in and out of subspace as naturally as I shift in and out of domspace, I notice. I sense my "magic battery"--Ability battery? Abilibattery?--recharge a bit, but in truth, I haven't had to pay attention to its level since Sarah first consented to be my sub.

"Well, first," I say, more conversationally, "do you prefer to know what I'm making you do, or would it be more thrilling to be acting in a way that makes no sense to you, powerless to stop yourself?"

"Honestly, it depends on the situation." Sarah pauses as she thinks. "Hmph. Even though I've given this a lot of thought, I still find it difficult to put into words what distinguishes one situation from another."

"Maybe it would be easier to give me some examples," I suggest.

"Oh, of course. Good idea. Okay, so I guess there are really three sets, not two," Sarah says, seemingly unaware that she's not, in fact, giving me some examples. "The first set contains commands I'd rather be confused about; the second contains ones I'd rather know; and the third contains ones that could go either way. Honestly, most commands are members of this third set. I'm trying to think of ones that sit exclusively in the other two.

"Alright," she says after collecting herself, "there are two kinds of commands I'd like to know about ahead of time. No, three."

So much for "I've given this a lot of thought," I think with a mental smirk I can't quite keep off my face.

"The first kind--or really third kind, as it's the one that just now occurred to me--are commands you're not sure I would enjoy. If you're on the fence or think I might be, I'd like to have a discussion about it beforehand, even if I can't remember that discussion afterward. Which, I guess, then puts it back into the second category. Look, set theory is hard."

I love how flustered she gets when her mouth runs ahead of her brain. It's endearing, and she gets there eventually. I wonder if this is how she hears herself, or if, in her mind, she hears herself speak more clearly. Crap, I suddenly think. Do I normally sound as incoherent as she does right now?

Sarah pauses, takes a deep breath, and restarts. "Okay. The two main subcategories for things I'd like to know what's going on, are: one, things that will push me out of my comfort zone; and two, quick, spur-of-the-moment commands that make me obey you immediately, especially in cases when I'm being disobedient. When you told me to take my dress off and toss it behind you, yesterday, that was perfect, and an example of a command I'd like to hear being given. Instant gratification."

"And an example of the first subcategory?" I ask, using her own nomenclature. This girl is nerdier than I am. I'm in love. In my experience, nerdy girls are a lot more common--and socially proficient--than guys assume. The crux, I've determined, is finding the right genetic strain of nerdiness to complement your own... and then make sure they're into girls.

"Hmm. I'll have to think about it,"--Think about what? Oh, right, the discomfort-zone category.--"and get back to you. But I can explain what appeals to me about it. If you make me do something outside of my comfort zone, and I know about it ahead of time, I can savor the dread of what's to come. I, uhh, know that sounds weird."

"No, not at all," I say, "We're kinky. We like what we like."

"So yeah," Sarah continues, "it's like a lingering threat of doing something I do not want to do, something that will make me uncomfortable and probably embarrass me, and knowing I have absolutely no choice in the matter."

I think I am getting an idea of what she enjoys, so I come up with an example to confirm it. "Have you ever given a lap dance?" I ask.

Sarah starts. "Uhh, that's out of left field, but no, I haven't."

"Since you've never performed a lap dance, since it's such an intimate act, and most importantly, since your Mistress would be judging your performance, would that be out of your comfort zone? If I told you that whenever I wanted, I could say 'lap dance', and you would immediately drop whatever you're doing and give me one, awkward inexperience and all, would knowing that trigger ahead of time be something you'd enjoy?"

"Spot on, except for one piece," she says. "Saying that you'll be judging my performance changes the entire tone of it. I would feel sick and disgusted at the thought, not aroused.

"If instead you said that you would be enjoying my awkward attempt, enjoying the discomfort on my face as I'm compelled to do something new, then that would be..."--she clears her throat--"...that would be sexy, AF. I would hate it," she concludes cheerfully.

I can tell Sarah's thinking through the phrasing of something, so I wait. "There's another component to this--to triggers in particular--that can be a little difficult to distinguish." I nod, encouraging my pet to continue. "Most of the time I do not want how I feel about what I'm doing to be altered.

"Suppose you tell me that any time you say, 'Please', I'm forced to stop doing whatever I am doing, and do what you've commanded. You could tell me that I will enjoy following that command, and then I would. It would feel natural to do it. But that's not what I find pleasurable. The helplessness of doing something I don't want to do, my futile attempts to resist, the stark realization that I am completely and utterly at your mercy--those are what do it for me. In this case, I'd want to be completely aware and emotionally unaffected."

I file away the "Please" trigger for sooner-rather-than-later use.

"Now, suppose, you want to make me your completely mindless, willing slave. In this case, I would actually love to find it perfectly natural to obey your every command. The thought of my purpose in life being temporarily rewritten as 'serving you in any way you desire', of finding fulfillment--not just pleasure--in serving you... that would be a fantasy come true.

"The thing I struggle to define is when I want one and when I want the other. My first thought is that it depends on the duration: 'please' would be instantaneous; it would be annoying to drop what I'm doing, and I'd want to feel that annoyance. 'Slave mode' could last a while, and so if I wasn't compelled to enjoy it, I'd grow frustrated and bored.

"However, another idea I've fantasized about would be that every time you tell me 'Thank you', I would immediately reply 'You are most welcome, Mistress.'" God, I love the way this girl of mine thinks. I'm getting wet just listening to her, knowing how trivial it will be to make these fantasies come true for her. She continues, "In this case, I actually would like it if I was made to feel shy and a little embarrassed about the abnormally effusive response. Somehow, knowing that you even control my emotions...." She trails off. "And..."

"Yes?" I prompt, my voice a mixture of Mistress and predator.

"And... I think it would be hot if you said it by accident in front of friends." She blushes deeply at this. I raise an eyebrow in what I hope is an appraising look that disguises how aroused I am at the idea. "It would have to be a genuine accident," she continues quickly. "If you did it on purpose, I would be angry. In fact, you wouldn't have my consent, so it wouldn't work."

I nod. "So those two triggers--'please' and 'thank you'--those would be ones you want to know are coming, right?"

"'Please', yes, I would like to know why I'm doing what you're telling me, and be miffed at you about it, and probably scowl at you."

"For which I would discipline you," I offer.

"For which you would discipline me," Sarah confirms conversationally, as if it's as natural a consequence as falling is to gravity.

"And the 'thank you' trigger?" I ask.

"I think that one actually falls in the third category: the either-or box. You could tell me up front, and I'd savor that promised embarrassment. Or you could not tell me, I'd feel naturally confused why I replied, but eventually I'd figure it out, and then I'd savor that embarrassment."

I nod again, then strike. "Any time I tell Sarah, 'Thank you,' she will immediately stop what she's doing, stand up, turn to me, bow, and say, 'You are most welcome, Mistress.' This will leave her feeling shy and embarrassed along with whatever feelings that naturally arise from the experience."

My Play Thing's eyes widen. "...Bow? I have to bow to you?" She swallows hard, and I can see the lust in her eyes. "You understa-"

"If I decide she has not bowed deeply enough," I continue, having deliberately paused so I could interrupt her, "she will apologize profusely and prostrate herself to me until I give her permission to stand. Until then, she will endure any additional discipline I deem necessary, and the only thing she can say--the only words she can think --are 'Thank you, Mistress.'"

Sarah's silent for a long moment, eyes wide with shock and either fear or adoration--I honestly can't tell which. "Yes, Mistress," she says with an unreadable inflection. Timidity? Acceptance? Subservience? Arousal? Resignation? Horror? Anticipation?

All of the above? I'm going to go with "All of the above".

"Good girl," I say, offhandedly. She squirms, and I relish that look in her eyes. The one that hungers for another treat that only I can dole out.

I wait for Sarah's facial expression--mortification, admiration, excitement, and fear all mixed into one--to fade to its normal state of submissive thoughtfulness. "And what of the other group--the things you'd like not to understand when they happen?" I ask.

Her eyes light up. "I think the scenarios in that box are mostly entire scenes. Wicked things you've pre-planned for me to do. Perhaps as soon as I walk in the door, something starts to happen, and I can't make sense of it." Sarah then outlines quite the delicious little fantasy. It's not one I will soon forget, and numerous ideas jump out at me for how I could add my own personal touches to it.

"I think I'm getting a general sense for what you do and don't want to know is coming, but you're right: it is complicated." I pause for effect.

"Your mind is quite the enigma, Pet." Sarah shrinks a little. "I am enjoying getting to know it, teasing out the details and inner workings. You and I shall have such fun together. It's almost a shame you won't remember this." I smile wickedly as her expression flashes to shock. "Sarah forgets everything that's happened since just before I told her to tell me more about her kinks as well as every fantasy we've discussed today. To her, they will be brand new--my own evil machinations. And finally, she will forget hearing this command."

Entry 8.2

"Good point!" I say. "I am clothed. Sarah, try though she might, can't figure out how to put clothes on and forgets that I said this."

Entry 8.3

Holding my phone out, I open the Messages app, and then suddenly realize I don't know Gabi's phone number. Hmm. I think this will work. I mumble, "My phone now has a copy of Gabi's contact information from Sarah's phone." Sure enough, the entry appears.

📲

Hey Gabi, this is Beatrix. I stole your number off Sarah's phone. I hope that's okay.

Totally! What's up?

So, awkward question. If this is too much, I totally get it, and we never have to talk about it again. But... how open are you to kink? If you hadn't guessed, that's Sarah's and my "arrangement" that she told you about.

Hah, I figured as much. I'm fine with it, though if you're asking about a threesome, the answer's no. I'm too straight for that.

Oops! Sorry to give you that impression. No, that's not what I'm proposing. Before I go on, are you comfortable knowing a bit about Sarah's kinks? She's mentioned one of her kinks being something public, so I'm pretty sure she'd be okay with you knowing about it. We can't do this thing publicly, but I imagine a private audience would be better than nothing.

Hmm. What did you have in mind?

I'm having Sarah put on... a little fashion show, we'll call it. I've told her that she can't move, and must stand perfectly still, like a manakin. She's very good at standing still, I've found. Might have something to do with the hypnosis. 😏 Would you be comfortable "admiring" her in some underwear? Nothing too showy or revealing.

📵

Three dots appear and disappear a couple times. I hold my breath.

📲

Yes, I think I'd be okay with that. That's all I have to do? Walk around, oohing and ahhing?

That's it!

Then yes, sounds fun.

Great! As Sarah would say, you are a peach. ❤️ After a couple minutes, I'll give you the signal so you can leave for a second while she gets dressed again.

Cool, though I assume you'll want a little private time to uhh finish up afterward?

Oh, good thinking. Thanks!

Yep! See you 2 in about 30 minutes.

📵

I grin my most evil grin. It's wasted though, since Sarah can't appreciate it. I appreciate it and that's enough. Okay, time to prepare.

I open up Mario Party and get a game started. Facing the TV, away from Sarah, I mumble a few sentences. "Sarah can't hear me Speak any commands until I talk to her."

💬

Following this command, over the next ten minutes, Sarah will become 90% natural. She will not notice this transformation occurring. To her mind and senses, her body retains its feminine shape and size.

I have a pair of red heart-shaped pasties in my hand.

While Sarah is frozen, the following are true:

Her arms and hands will not lose circulation despite their upraised position.

Her bladder and bowels are in stasis and she will not feel the need to go to the bathroom.

She remains hydrated. Her eyes may feel dry, but will remain at least 30% as wet as they normally are.

🗨️

A thought occurs to me, something Sarah and I had discussed about illusions. "Sarah's penis will not reform during this transformation; her feminine genitalia will remain."