When Emily arrived at Corey’s house the next day it was his little sister, Olivia, who let her in.
“Oh hey Emily,” the 18 year old greeted her casually.
Olivia was about one-and-a-half years younger than Corey, but Emily had always felt that she somehow looked older than him regardless. Part of why she had started dating Corey at all, after all, was because of how he looked. While he was only 5’6”, and actually slightly shorter than Emily herself, and had a naturally slim build that now, after only one week at Mercer, already looked almost delicate again, it was his face that saved him.
Corey had what the girls in his life, including Emily, had often called “a certain pretty-boy attractiveness.” Soft light brown hair that always fell a little into his eyes no matter what he did with it. Naturally smooth skin almost entirely free of proper beard growth, which annoyed him to no end but actually delighted Emily. And then there were his eyes. Large, soft light brown eyes framed by lashes that were naturally long enough for mascara to transform them without much difficulty. They were pretty eyes, and very vulnerable looking. The sort that makeup, unfortunately for him, suited far too well.
His eyes were what Emily had fallen asleep to yesterday as she imagined them between her legs. Ever since she had seen him in makeup for the first time, this thought had been incubating in her and yesterday night found release for the first time as she touched herself to it. She imagined him with beautiful long brown hair, his lips puffed up and sticky with lipgloss, eating her out, all the while his pretty eyes, made even prettier with eyeliner, looked pleadingly up at her from between her legs. Interestingly, as she had discovered herself yesterday, she knew Corey was locked in chastity during that fantasy, even though right now outside the mansion he wasn’t. But in her fantasy the asymmetry of him having to pleasure her while he was left frustrated had been amazing.
When she was done she had felt bad. Corey wasn’t some sort of sex toy and if he didn’t want to eat her out, which he had so far never wanted to, then it wouldn’t ever happen. And she admonished herself for getting so excited over her boyfriend being denied and frustrated by her, even just in her fantasy. “But at least I didn’t include Jason,” she thought, which made it a little better. Jason, who had been waiting at the edge of her mind since she met the handsome guy last week in Mercer’s school.
The inside of Corey’s house looked exactly the way it had since Emily had been here the first time over a decade ago. Small, cluttered and welcoming. Shoes were piled near the entrance, their laundry basket stood half visible beside the hallway and the television was running quietly somewhere in the living room even though nobody was watching it.
Amanda sat at the kitchen counter with a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the other when Emily entered. The older woman immediately smiled tiredly at her. “Oh thank god,” Amanda sighed dramatically. “Someone normal.”
Emily laughed softly. “Hi Amanda.”
“You’re seriously getting him out of the house today?” Corey’s mother asked.
“I’m trying to.”
Amanda snorted. “Good luck. He’s been sulking since yesterday.”
In the background Olivia wandered through the kitchen carrying a bowl of cereal, listening intently while trying to pretend she wasn’t. Emily put her purse onto the counter and sat down opposite Amanda. “Honestly, whatever he’s told you, I’m sure he’s making the whole thing sound way worse than it actually was.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Amanda answered immediately, sounding relieved. “I mean obviously it’s weird, but he’s acting like they’re torturing him over there.”
“Well...” Emily hesitated slightly. “Mercer’s definitely intense.”
Olivia immediately perked up at that. She, for her part, completely supported what was happening to Corey. On the one hand she was sure it wasn’t nearly as serious as he had made it out to be and on the other it was just great that her older brother was being feminized, even if only temporarily. She liked seeing him embarrassed, she liked knowing she would win every future argument from now on, but above all she liked that Corey was spending time with Tiffany. Olivia hadn’t seen her ex-dad/new-mom often since the divorce and it made her happy to know that at least one of her kids was with her a lot of the time now.
“But really,” Emily was saying, “a lot of it’s just etiquette stuff. Some posture, clothes, how to do makeup, things like that.”
Olivia almost choked laughing into her cereal. “Makeup classes,” she repeated delightedly. And her mom immediately shot her a warning look, though she herself was smiling slightly too now.
“What?” Olivia defended herself instantly. “It’s funny.”
Emily laughed awkwardly. Amanda meanwhile leaned forward slightly. “He’s safe there though, right?”
“Yeah,” Emily answered after a moment. “Honestly Mercer’s kinda intense sometimes, but he’s not hurting him.”
“And Corey keeps acting like they’re gonna force him to...” She lowered her voice instinctively despite Corey being upstairs and playing some stupid game anyways. “You know.”
“No,” Emily reassured her. “It’s really not like that, I don’t think.” Technically that was also true, at least for now.
Olivia had by now fully abandoned pretending not to listen. “So does he actually look feminine in makeup?”
“OLIVIA,” Amanda snapped.
“What!?” Olivia asked, playful outrage in her tone as if her question had been the most normal thing in the world. Then she turned back to Emily and pressed, “Well? Does he?”
Emily hesitated just long enough to make Olivia grin wider. “Oh my god he does,” she laughed.
Shortly after, Emily knocked on Corey’s door, but when she received no answer simply opened it. Corey hadn’t heard her because while she was knocking, Liam’s voice was crackling aggressively through his headset.
“IN THE FUCKING WINDOW, DUDE.”
“I KNOW,” Corey snapped back while firing wildly around a corner. Only then did he glance back over his shoulder and notice Emily standing in the doorway.
“Oh hey,” he said absentmindedly, putting his headset down for a moment, before immediately putting it back up again and turning toward the game. “Just a sec, babe.” He still hoped he could maybe convince her not to do this to him, but right now he still had to finish the game.
Emily walked further into the room while watching him play for a moment. Corey was intensely focused right now, leaning forward slightly with one hand tapping rapidly against his keyboard while the other flicked his mouse around in sharp motions. Even from behind she could already tell Mercer’s posture lessons had changed him slightly. He sat with his back held slightly straighter, his legs closed together and she thought his movements in general had become smaller. Now that she knew what to look for she kept noticing these little things.
A pang of annoyance hit her. Why put his headset immediately up again? Why couldn’t he be considerate and turn the game loud so he could hear the ingame audio while being able to talk to her?
So, after a moment, she said, “Turn it louder.”
“Huh?” Corey said, not looking at her, and pulling his headset down in a jerky motion. He had only heard that she had said something but not what.
“Turn the game, or TS or whatever, loud so that you don’t need the headset and we can talk.”
Corey frowned slightly but complied, sliding one side of the headset off his ear and turning the game audio up through his speakers. And immediately Liam’s voice filled the room.
“Corey why the fuck are you throwing?”
“Shut the fuck up, I’m not,” Corey shot back, grinning, and his focus was immediately only on the game again. So Emily just watched as the match continued, too polite to pull out her phone and do something else. This was his interest after all and she wanted to show that it interested her as well. But the only interaction she would remember happened nearly toward the end of the game.
Liam’s character ran around a corner on Corey’s screen, followed by another character and Liam bellowed into his mic, “GREEN, YOU DON’T HAVE A MIC? WHY DON’T YOU TALK?”
Seconds later, a new voice cut into the game’s voice chat.
“I have a mic, what do you want?” a voice asked that Emily immediately recognized as belonging to a girl.
Liam however seemed not to immediately guess that and instead asked, “Squeaker?”
“Nope, I’m a girl,” the girl answered casually.
For a split second nobody said anything. Then Liam, not knowing Emily was with Corey and could hear him, snorted loudly through the speakers and muttered, “Great, got a fucking sandwich maker on the team.”
The girl laughed. “Wow. You sound ugly.” And Corey immediately burst out laughing at the entire silly exchange, but then he glanced sideways toward Emily who was eyeing him and immediately fell quiet.
The round resumed and for the next several minutes everyone focused back on the match again.
Eventually the match finally ended with Liam loudly complaining about “dogshit teammates and sandwich makers” while Corey leaned back in his chair with a long exhale.
“Alright I’m done,” he muttered.
“Later,” Liam’s voice came through the speakers.
Then the call disconnected and for a moment the room felt strange to Corey without the constant sounds of gunfire and yelling. Somehow it had made him feel like a man, and now he was pulled back into the here and now, into reality, and the fact that he would probably end the day giving Emily even more blackmail material of him in dresses and skirts.
But what could he do? He didn’t think she would actually show anyone the pic of him in makeup, but he also couldn’t risk it. If anyone here found out he would never live it down, even worse if it meant that they also found out where he and Liam had spent their entire last week and would spend the next one too. It was all so surreal, not for the first time Corey wondered how such a place could even exist.
“Fucking wealthy bastard,” he concluded. Mercer had all this money, and he used it to conjure up such a demented place as this sissy mansion of his.
“I still don’t understand why I have to go,” Corey said, turning his chair in Emily’s direction.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Because I think you’re an autumn but I can’t be sure.”
Now it was Corey’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. But only in the fitting room.”
“Of course,” Emily chirped. She was just happy that he was putting up less resistance than she had expected.
Not twenty minutes later, Corey found himself getting squeezed into a crowded downtown train against his will. A busker somewhere farther down the car was butchering some pop song on a saxophone, which was clearly annoying a tired-looking businessman who had trouble understanding the person he was on the phone with. At every stop, the train lurched forward with a metallic screech, causing Emily and Corey to grab for a pole so they didn’t lose their balance.
“This fucking city,” Corey thought, overlooking the crowded car where not a single seat was free despite the train having ejected masses of people at every stop. Then he turned to Emily, who was being smooshed into him, and muttered, “This is your fault.”
“My fault?”
“I was planning to spend today doing absolutely nothing.”
Emily grinned. “And now you’re spending it becoming fashionable. You’re welcome, by the way.” Then she laughed. It was a pretty laugh, and Corey couldn’t help but smile weakly, despite himself. By the time they emerged from the station and crossed into the mall, the midday crowd was already filling the walkways. Emily stopped just inside the entrance and looked around with the focus of a military commander surveying a battlefield.
Corey, on the other hand, was already deeply uncomfortable. Not because anyone was paying attention to them, in fact nobody cared at all. Groups of girls drifted between racks talking loudly, exhausted looking men sat outside fitting rooms staring at their phones and pop music echoed through the brightly lit store.
But he still felt exposed. Especially when Emily began marching straight past the men’s section without even slowing down.
“Emily,” Corey hissed quietly, looking around at the other people in the store.
“What?” Emily asked, feigning innocence. But she was unable to fully contain her smile.
“You’re making this really obvious.”
Emily glanced back while running her fingers through a rack of skirts. “Making what obvious?”
“That this is for me.”
“It is for you.”
Corey looked around immediately after she said that, relieved nobody nearby seemed to have heard. He decided not to press the point further. Since their first week at the mansion Emily’s position in their relationship seemed permanently strengthened, he hadn’t been able to win a single discussion anymore.
Emily meanwhile had already started pulling pieces free from hangers with increasing excitement. She showed him high waisted black skinny jeans and said, “These would look really good on you.”
Corey instantly grabbed the jeans from her hands and looked around, lowering his voice. “For you,” he corrected her. “You mean for you.”
Emily stared at him for a couple of seconds before she understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to make himself look like the exhausted boyfriend helping his girlfriend shop. The realization nearly made her laugh out loud.
“Ohhh,” she smiled. “Right. For me. Of course.”
Corey visibly tensed at the sarcasm in her voice, while Emily was openly enjoying herself now.
“Oh my god wait.” She suddenly exclaimed and grabbed a sweater from the rack. “Corey this color would actually look amazing with your eyes.”
A hot flush instantly spread across his face. “Stop saying my name so loud.”
Emily ignored him completely. “Seriously.” She held the sweater up closer to him now, studying his face with obvious concentration. “The brown in your eyes gets all gold in the right light and this would bring that out so much. Told you, you’re an autumn.”
Corey saw an older woman nearby smile faintly at their interaction before continuing her own shopping. “The fuck are you looking at, old bitch,” he thought angrily, but said nothing. The old woman’s smile had felt really directed at his pride, and it stung.
Next Emily found a soft pale beige cropped cardigan and held it up against his chest before he could stop her. Corey nearly recoiled. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s literally adorable,” Emily countered.
“It’s literally not.”
Emily tilted her head thoughtfully while still holding it against him. “No, I’m serious. You’d look really soft in this.”
That word hit Corey strangely. “Soft,” he repeated in his head, then he said, “I don’t wanna look fucking soft, and you know it.”
“Well it’s not like you have much of a chance at looking hard,” Emily shot back, smirking down at him. She wasn’t much taller than he was but right now she felt like a giant compared to him. If only she had found out much earlier in their relationship how much this specific dynamic would excite her. And the way Corey acted so dramatically about it all was really hot. “Such a dramatic little sissy,” she thought. All he was doing after all was trying out a bit of feminine fashion, not getting his arm broken.
She thought back to that first lesson with Mrs. Clarissa Sterling and what she had said:
“These are ordinary aspects of womanhood. If someone experiences them as degrading, then that perception does not come from us but from them. So, in other words, their own reaction reveals an underlying belief that femininity is lesser. That to be associated with it is to be diminished. And once that becomes clear... the question of whether they deserve to feel that humiliation answers itself.”
She looked at Corey again, this time with a bit of resentment. He really did make an elephant out of a mouse. He stalked behind her, ducking between clothing racks, looking in all directions as if he was stealing. And all because of what? Because he would wear some clothes for not even five minutes.
By now Corey was carrying an oversized cream sweater, black skinny jeans, and to Corey’s horror, a pleated black skirt Emily had slipped into the stack without warning, and even a pair of glossy black ballet flats with tiny silver buckles at the front. For a while Emily had considered adding sandals too, it would soon be summer after all, but she thought better of it. As of now Corey’s feet, while small, were still recognizably male with bunions, clearly visible veins and no pedicure. She really hoped the mansion would get that fixed before summer. Maybe she should talk with Dominic about it when he picked them up Sunday again, as he had promised he would.
If Corey would be out of Mercer’s program in three months, she wanted his feet done before that so she could make him wear sandals throughout the summer without being disgusted.
“Alright,” Emily finally announced. “Go.” She really liked being in control, she had noticed.
Corey stared toward the fitting rooms like they were death row. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I really am.”
“Fuck you.”
Emily grinned and nudged him toward one of the fitting room stalls, he was certainly making it easy to do this to him. For example, instead of saying "fuck you" he could´ve begged her, and maybe she would´ve reconsidered but if he was like this. A minute later Corey stood inside the tiny stall staring at himself in the mirror with visible discomfort. The space barely felt large enough to move around in and while the red curtain covered almost everything, his socks were clearly visible and he worried that someone might see them and conclude that they were male socks.
A thought he himself even recognized as silly and paranoid, but that didnt help.
Emily kept slipping inside his stall every few minutes to comment and take some pictures The first time she entered he was only wearing the black skinny jeans and oversized cream sweater. She froze dramatically with one hand over her heart.
“Oh my god.” she said
“Don’t start.”
“Corey.”
“What.”
“You actually look good.”
Corey glanced awkwardly back toward the mirror despite himself. The jeans hugged his legs much tighter than anything he had ever worn before, tight enough that he remained constantly aware of them. He could feel the denim pulling against his thighs and calves every time he shifted his weight, outlining the shape of his legs in a way that felt strangely exposing. Even the waistband sat differently on him, higher on his hips, making his waist look narrower and his legs longer. And of course the jeans had not been designed with his genitalia in mind, so it ended up pressing his cock and balls tightly against his body in a way that reminded him of the chastity cage he would have to wear next week again.
Worst of all though was the way the denim felt against his shaved legs. Mercer’s shaving routine had left them almost completely smooth and now, without coarse leg hair separating skin from fabric anymore, he could feel every little movement of the jeans much more intensely. To him it felt absurdly feminine to even notice something like that, and yet he couldnt stop.
The oversized cream sweater meanwhile felt soft in a way men’s clothing almost never did. The fabric brushed gently against his skin every time he moved and the loose sleeves partly swallowed his hands if he did not pull them back. Combined with his slightly messy hair from changing, the entire outfit softened his silhouette in a way he deeply disliked. He felt as though it somehow managed to make him smaller.
“The sweater really brings out your eyes actually.” Emily said
In reaction Corey rolled these very eyes as his face reddened slightly at her comment. Before he could do anything else, Emily had pulled out her phone and the camera snapped.
"H-hey" Corey almost yelled. He should´ve been prepared for that, of course she would take pictures. “Delete that.”
“Nope.”
A few minutes later she slipped back inside the fitting stall while Corey was trying on the skirt.
“Oh my fucking god,” he muttered while staring at himself in the mirror.
The black pleated skirt ended several inches above his knees, exposing his pale legs completely. Combined with the oversized sweater it created an effect Corey hated instantly because it looked... like an actual outfit.
Emily meanwhile looked delighted. “Okay wait.”
“Emily I swear to god.”
“No seriously.” She stepped closer. “You actually have the legs for skirts.”
Corey looked back toward the mirror again despite himself. He feared she might be right. The skirt looked humiliating mostly because it did not look ridiculous enough. His legs were slim and smooth, especially after Maddie’s shaving routine. And his naturally small frame made the proportions work.
“This is so fucked,” he muttered to himself as Emily snapped another picture. Then she disappeared outside his stall again. Not even half a minute later, Corey suddenly heard a familiar voice from outside the fitting stall and froze.
“Oh, hey Emily,” the voice said, unable to suppress a slight sneer in its tone. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“That’s Carmen,” Corey thought. He stood motionless in the fitting stall, his pants on the tiny bench below the mirror, while he wore a skirt. His thoughts immediately raced toward putting his pants on again, but he feared that any movement he now made inside the stall would pull Carmen’s attention toward him.
“No no no,” he thought. “Fuck. Not Carmen.”
Through the thin curtain he could hear Emily answering.
“Hi guys. I’m here with my boyfriend.”
“Still Corey?” Carmen asked. “Or got a new one already?”
Outside the stall Emily answered curtly, “Nope. Still Corey.”
“He’s cute,” another girl said. Abigail, Corey discerned from her voice. Unlike Carmen, Abigail actually sounded sincere. While Corey had always been small, quite a few girls in their class had found him attractive. Especially because of his eyes. And these two had been in their class. In fact, from about sixth to eighth grade Corey had had a major crush on Carmen.
“That’s true,” Carmen meanwhile admitted, and inside his fitting stall Corey felt something close to pride flicker briefly through him. But that was dashed once Carmen added: “Bit small of course, but cute.”
“And where is he actually?” Abigail suddenly asked. She had noticed that it was Emily who was standing outside a fitting room, and not Corey. Usually the boyfriend would stand outside and wait for his girlfriend. Especially since they found themselves in the women’s section of the store here. Now it could of course simply be that Emily stood outside this stall by sheer coincidence, and Corey was somewhere else in the store entirely, but Emily stood too close to this stall. Usually, Abigail thought, no one would stand that close to a stall where a stranger was currently changing.
Emily simply said nothing at all, but there was a twinkle in her eyes that both Carmen and Abigail immediately caught.
Inside the fitting stall Corey had stopped breathing. From his perspective Abigail had asked where he was, had received no answer and then for several seconds no one had said anything. It was awful to be this powerless, behind the curtain, unable to do or say anything, wearing a skirt, completely dependent on Emily choosing not to humiliate him.
Eventually the silence passed when Carmen simply quietly said, “Oh, he’s one of those.”
Corey’s blood ran cold. “One of those?” What did she mean by this? Was the concept of what a sissy was spreading? Did she know somehow? Had someone told her about where he was last week? Or was he simply reading too much into an offhand comment of hers?
Outside, Emily simply smirked slightly and shrugged.
“Well,” Carmen continued casually, “I’m proud of you honestly. I couldn’t be attracted to a guy who did that.”
Inside the fitting stall Corey still stood frozen while his heart hammered against his ribs.
“Well gotta go,” Carmen suddenly said. “Bye Emily. Byeee Corey,” she added sweetly.
Abigail giggled. “Was good meeting you two again.”
While Corey’s humiliation was ongoing in the heart of New York City, to the north in New England, back in Mercer’s Mansion, Jessica and Madison were enjoying their weekend once again as maids, just like last weekend. It was after all an exception that Dominic drove anyone anywhere. He had done so with Emily, Liam and Corey to make a good impression on their families, but for Jessica and Madison to be able to leave on the weekends someone would have to come and pick them up.
Initially, during their sissification, this actually happened from time to time, but the remote location of the mansion and the fact that it meant getting them on Fridays and returning them on Sundays naturally had reduced the times it happened to the point where now, they spent nearly every weekend in this mansion unless someone took them somewhere deliberately.
And because of that the mansion had developed a very strange atmosphere on weekends in Maddie’s mind. The warm afternoon sunlight spilled through the enormous windows across wooden floors Jessica and Maddie were polishing in the sissy maid uniforms Clara had assigned them this morning.
Mercer had made sure to own a variety of maid uniforms for every sissy. Some were more humiliating to wear than others, some were harder to move in than others and some were easier to put on and off than others. The one Clara had picked for them this morning was especially degrading because it leaned very aggressively into their status as sissy maids and not just maids.
The outfit was made almost entirely from glossy pink latex that clung awfully tightly to the body and reflected light with an almost wet shine. The tiny cropped top barely covered their surgically improved chests and the puffed sleeves squeezed tightly around the upper arms, trimmed in frilly white lace that immediately called attention to how slender and weak their arms had become. A large white bow sat directly beneath their collarbones while another smaller bow rested over the chest itself, drawing attention exactly where the wearer least wanted it.
The latex skirt was painfully short. Layers of stiff pink latex and white frills beneath flared outward dramatically from the waist in a way that called constant attention to their movements. Attached to the outfit was a tiny white maid apron trimmed with ruffles that, in truth, was more decorative than functional.
Worst of all however were the stockings. Smooth white latex stockings held up by delicate pink garter straps squeezed tightly against their legs and constantly reminded them of their presence. Combined with the glossy pink heels, complete with little bows near the ankles, the outfit forced every movement into short careful mincing little steps.
Naturally the shortness of the skirts left their flat chastity cages visible, which in this outfit were worn in combination with crotchless white panties. And not for the first time Jessica wondered what even the point of crotchless panties was. At that point why not just let them go without panties? But they probably served to call attention to what remained of their once male genitalia or something, she guessed.
During the week the mansion constantly buzzed with activity. Heels clicking through hallways, lessons being held, nervous little sissies hurrying from one scheduled humiliation to the next. But on weekends most of that disappeared.
The sissies not currently assigned to maid or kitchen rotation usually vanished into their own routines. Some spent their free time outside somewhere on the sprawling property, sunbathing near the gardens or wandering the walking paths around the estate in tiny outfits. Others remained in their rooms gossiping, watching movies or trying desperately to masturbate during their brief uncaged windows.
“It feels like school after everyone already left,” Maddie eventually murmured softly.
Jessica glanced sideways at her. “What?”
“You know.” Maddie shrugged lightly. “When clubs are over or whatever and all the hallways are empty and sunny.”
Jessica gave a sharp little laugh. “Maddie, you’re literally such an airhead sometimes.” She adjusted the folded towels against one hip before continuing, amusement still lingering in her voice. “We’re kept little sissy slaves wearing these awful latex uniforms today and you somehow manage to think about how ‘this kinda feels like school after clubs.’”
Maddie flushed immediately. “I just meant, like, the whole atmosphere and stuff.”
“I know what you meant.” Jessica rolled her eyes dramatically, though there was obvious fondness for Maddie underneath it all. “You always say the cutest dumb shit completely by accident.”
Jessica was just about to answer when both of them suddenly heard a delighted squeal echo from somewhere deeper inside the mansion.
“Oh my god there’s another one!” Madison immediately froze mid-step, and Jessica realized at once that Clara had found and cornered some unfortunate sissy. And from the sound of it she seemed to be in an excellent mood as well. And Clara in an excellent mood, Jessica had learned, was something to be feared.
Back when she had been Jacob, and Clara his girlfriend, her moods had been nothing to really worry about.
But then again Jacob had never been at her mercy, had never been in a weaker position. As it turned out, being in the weaker position to Clara meant she would exploit it. And she had hidden that side of herself so well before she started working for Mercer.
“This place really does reveal who people actually are,” Jessica thought, not for the first time.
Then Clara’s voice rang out again. “You cannot seriously think I wouldn’t notice you hiding in here, missy.”
While Madison wondered which poor sissy Clara had found, Jessica was hung up on the strangeness of calling a boy “missy.” Despite having been here for years already, Jessica was at times still thrown by how completely this place turned everything about its victims’ lives upside down.
Unlike most people in the mansion, Clara actually became more energetic on weekends. During the week she had classes to supervise and other teachers to assist, but on quieter days like this she often wandered through the mansion enjoying herself by teasing, correcting or “improving” the sissies whenever she became bored enough.
And unfortunately for everyone involved, Clara Bell bored very easily.
She really had found her calling here, Jessica had realized some time ago already. Clara rarely even left for holidays. Many of the other staff still left on the weekends, and all of them certainly took their holidays and some sick days. But Clara stayed every weekend, spent as many of her holidays here as she could and hadn’t been sick once since she started working for Mercer.
“Do you think she’s coming here?” Maddie asked quietly.
A stupid question, Jessica thought, but she didn’t say it and just nodded. Of course Clara was coming here. Toying with her former boyfriend was one of her favorite activities, and unfortunately for Maddie, she simply happened to be nearby right now.
Apparently Clara was now done admonishing whichever other sissy she had spotted because shortly after one of the doors opened and Clara, completely in her element, practically skipped toward them.