Wouldn't It Be Fun?

I really regret going to that stupid stage hypnosis show.

Actually, no, that's not right, the actual show wasn't the problem. I mean, the performer was nice and he was fully willing to let me go by the end. After all, it's just part of the show, right?

Then Emma showed up. Fucking Emma. She was all like, "oh Daisy, please let me try, please, please, PLEASE!" Like an idiot, I said yes.

So I had triggers implanted. I waited for a whole week for her to pull something or at least tell me what the triggers were but, nope, she kept her mouth shut. Right up until Saturday, when she invited me out for shopping.

"Hey, Daisy, wouldn't it be fun if you wore these?" she asked, holding up a microskirt and a lacy black thong. Normally, I wouldn't have even entertained the idea but, on that day, I smiled warmly and took the clothes right off her. It paired well with my crop top but I think she purposefully chose a size too small for me because you could very obviously see my camel-toe. Still, Emma had asked so I willingly paraded myself around town, showing off my bare ass to every passer-by.

Then I woke up. Actually, I don't know if I woke up by myself or Emma chose to wake me up then. Whichever it was, I had woken up at some point and realised very quickly how much I did not want to be wearing any of this. Emma burst into laughter at my blushing face and, you know what, so did I. It was pretty funny and she thankfully kept my previous clothes so I changed back immediately.

So that's how it started. A few pranks here and there. She'd tell me to do stuff I would have never done before and I'd do them, only to wake up, look disgustingly at myself and then laugh along with her. Like that time I took my underwear off and put it on my head before dancing around the flat. Weird but ultimately harmless.

Then she got more demanding. Once, I had a big assignment due the next day. I had actually finished it off by that point but I wanted to double-check and proofread it. Only for Emma to waltz in and insist that I head down to the club with her. She had been begging me for a while but I had so much work to do and, honestly, I was sick of clubbing. When I told her that, she looked so down and I kinda felt bad for saying it but then her face lit up with mischievous glee.

"Hey, Daisy, wouldn't it be fun if you went clubbing with me tonight?"

I thought, you know what, she's right. I haven't been in ages and it could be fun.

So there I went, in a short dress and fuck-me heels, into the sleaziest clubs we knew. Apparently, Emma had preferred the music there, so I danced along to her tunes. And maybe kissed a guy or two.

Only when I woke up the next day did I realise that she had forced me into tagging along. I got really mad at her and, to her credit, she did apologise. "Oh, Daisy, I'm sorry. Oh, Daisy, I just wanted to have a little fun with you. Oh, Daisy, will you ever forgive me?"

I did forgive her, like a moron. After that, she covered up her tracks a lot better.

See, I found out later that Emma can actually control whether I remember what happens while I'm under the trance. How did I find out exactly?

Well, you see, you have little gaps in your memories. Oh, Emma was good. She made sure to put me back in the same spot that I blacked out in. So it looks like nothing ever happened. But then you notice something off. The way your watch says more time has passed than you thought. The way certain people have moved far past you despite having been right next to you a second ago. The way Emma's smile glistens when she knows she's done something wrong but did it anyway.

That stupid smile. I think she's got a little sadistic streak. That first prank in town should have alerted me but I had mistaken it for casual banter between friends. Now I know what the little shit's capable of when she's got a little power over someone.

I think I realised it around the time the sports clubs were advertising themselves to freshers. Emma and I were walking past to go to the library when I caught her looking at them wistfully.

That was also when I first noticed a blackout. It was too jarring, to have the cars rush past you, stop, and then reappear in the distance. The noises were always the first thing you notice. Never ignore the noises.

At the time, I didn't know Emma could block my memories so I didn't tell her and ignored it for the rest of the day. But then it kept happening. Consistently too. I got the schedule quickly. A few extra blackouts here and there but every week without fail, I blacked out on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. I would then wake up in my room, exhausted. I smelt nice and my towel was always wet so I'd obviously taken a shower.

Trouble was, what for?

Turns out that Emma signed us up for cheerleading while I was out. She made sure that I left my uniforms in her room and, when I caught her loading so many into the washing machine, she told me that she had bought way too many on accident.

If that was the case though, how was she dirtying all of them so quickly? I tried my best to ignore it but, on a whim, I checked the college's Instagram accounts. My eyes bulged out of my head when I saw myself there, posing for the cameras in all red. I looked nothing like myself. My makeup is normally more of a naked look so to see myself wearing so much lipstick and eyeshadow was incredibly jarring.

If you thought I was pissed at the clubbing thing, you should have seen me when I saw the cheerleading. It's not easy, mind you. You have to pay for the custom uniforms yourself, plus you have to cheer on the football and basketball teams for every game in the season. That's a lot of work on top of the crapload of stuff you already have to do for exams.

I snatched the uniforms right off her to give them back to the college and ask to ditch the sport. She got pretty angry at me, asking why I was being so annoying when I didn't even have to put the work in. I shot back that, if it was so simple, why didn't she ask me first?

She didn't like that.

I didn't hear what she said next because suddenly I woke up in my bed the day after. I was confused at first but then I read my notifications and found out that I had sent messages to all my other friends that they should never let me quit cheerleading, even though it was getting really hard for me. My phone had been blown up with several replies that each one of them would make sure I stayed on track and went to all of the competitions this season. Plus an email from the college counsellor assuring me that they would keep me on for the entire year and that they had now talked to the coaches to ensure I make it to every session.

No emails I sent after that made things better. Like it or not, I was a cheerleader for the rest of the year.

That's not all. I think-- No, I know Emma's trancing me other times too. There'll be times where I'm wearing comfy clothes, like a shirt, trainers and some jeans, before I black out and wake up having strolled through town in a miniskirt, heels and a tube top. Even though we stopped talking a while ago, we still live with each other so she has ample time to use my trigger on me. I know she is still using it because, whenever I rush home to change into less trashy clothing, she's always in the living room, doing her signature smile.

And she's getting crazier by the day. While I was in the library the other day, some guy kept bothering me and it took a lot of foul language for him to buzz off. Emma came out of nowhere, asking who that was. When I told her that he was just some asshole that wouldn't leave me alone, she had a wicked glint in her eye.

The next thing I knew, I was making out with him outside of the library, with his number written onto a piece of paper stuffed between my boobs. He zoomed off on his motorcycle before I could even process what happened.

That was my breaking point. Right now, I'm devising a plan to remove my trigger and get my revenge, recorded on several devices to ensure that it doesn't get deleted under my trance. Once she gets home, I'll give her hell to pay.

Speaking of which, I just heard the front door open.

"Hello, Em--"

"Your boyfriend's here, by the way."

"...what."

"You know. The quote-unquote 'asshole' from the library. He's outside, waiting for you."

She's joking. Please let her be joking. "EMMA, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

I stomp right at her while she nonchalantly stands there. "I didn't do anything, sweetie."

"BULLSHIT. WHY IS HE HERE?!"

"Well, he finds cheerleaders hot. That's actually why he's so into you, you know. In fact, he's even asked for you to come down in your uniform. It seems he has a fun day planned."

She doesn't seem fazed that I am right in her face now. "Yeah, no. Don't think I want to."

"It'll be fun."

"No, it really won't be."

"Are you sure? Are you really sure?" And that's when she smiles. The smile. I turn to run away. "Wouldn't it be fun to go out with him while wearing your cheerleader outfit?"

My eyes are getting blurry as I hold my hands to my ears. I start praying that I didn't hear anything that she said. No, I won't do it, I tell myself. No way, not with him. But the idea is getting less absurd by the second and I'm already walking to my room.

My hands leave my head as they take out one of my uniforms (now stored in my closet), along with long socks and trainers. I do the usual heavy makeup and move to walk out the door before Emma stops me.

"Hey, Daisy, wouldn't it be fun to try this out on your date?"

I look at her hands where she's holding a tiny red thong, a matching shade with my uniform. For some reason, a small part of me feels like I shouldn't want to wear anything like it and I voice my concerns to my roommate. She reassures me that he'll love it and that I should do something out of my comfort zone every once in a while.

"I don't know, wearing this might make him think I want to have sex with him."

"Oh but Daisy, that's exactly what you want. After all, wouldn't it be fun? You haven't gotten a good fucking in a while."

That sounds right. I have been a bit stressed recently. Maybe I need a little rough sex.

I strip off my cotton panties and put on the thong, whereupon Emma readjusts it to cover neither of my cheeks and gives me a quick spank.

"Oh, right, you're gonna whine if I don't wipe your memories. Daisy, don't worry your pretty little head about everything I've just said, okay?"

I nod and head out to the man on the motorcycle, who gives me a lecherous grin and a wolf whistle.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it."

"I... I just wanted to wear this."

"For me? You shouldn't have. But I won't complain."

He pulls me in for a kiss and I almost push him off but I remember that I need to get laid tonight so I lean into it and wrap myself around him. He slobbers me with his spit and I happily lap it up, swirling my tongue around his while I sit on his lap.

After a minute or so, he sets me down on the back of his motorcycle and places a helmet on my head before putting his own on and climbing aboard.

We race off, ready for our date.