Into the Vanessaverse

There was nothing Vanessa enjoyed more than mischief, especially when played out against her darlings. Agent, of course, was her most easily accessible target, and his squirmy and bashful nature meant that she could really enjoy how absurd the circumstances she inflicted on him were. Still, she did enjoy switching up her targets, twice over when said targets were a legitimate challenge to get one over on.

One such darling of hers was Lady Mysz, one of the few mortal beings that gave her a legitimate struggle in dominance. She was overdue to inflict chaos on the House of Mouse anyway-especially after their last bout. Being trapped into an art deco-stained glass image was quite a stroke of genius, Vanessa noted. Too bad she didn’t come up with it herself.

She was busy trying on different dresses when Agent strolled into the room. He immediately halted, covering his eyes on reflex. “Ah, didn’t realize you were undressing,” he said. “Sorry, I just saw the door open, and-“

“That was a deliberate invitation, you utter prude,” Vanessa chided Agent with a gentle laugh. “Perfect timing, anyway. Which do you think suits me?”

Agent uncapped his eyes, watching as Vanessa gestured to two maid outfits. One was more conservatively designed; the other was far more on the “gothic Lolita” side of the spectrum.

“I was leaning towards the frills,” Vanessa added. “But you can’t beat the classics, either.”

Agent blanked out at the question. “Is this a trick?” he asked. “You’re not going to stuff me in the one I choose, right?”

“Unless you ask nicely,” Vanessa smirked. “No, this is for me. I’ll be taking on the maid role for a short while.”

“Ah,” Agent nodded. “So, a vacation from responsibilities? Or, well, a vacation from a LACK of responsibility?”

“Infiltration,” Vanessa said. “Our darling Alice, you see. The easiest way inside her penthouse is to be a maid. And she keeps yelling at me when I break in through the window.”

“You can teleport,” Agent reminded his witch compatriot. He sat down on her bed as he spoke, watching the cosmic witch in sheer bafflement. “What’s the game plan then?”

“Causing chaos and subterfuge from the inside, of course,” Vanessa said with a smile. “I’ve not worked out the exact details of what I’ll prank her with, but I do so love to improvise, you know that.”

She gave a firm nod, tossing the Lolita to the side. “Classics it is,” she said, already undressing from her trademark attire, blatantly in front of Agent. The nerd cupped his eyes once more, and he could hear the witch scoff. “Honestly now, grow a pair. Everyone admires this body.”

“I’m just trying to be respectful,” Agent explained through an embarrassed grimace. He stopped hiding after a short while, seeing Vanessa in all her maid-ish goodness. “Oh wow, yes, that…That does look rather stunning.”

“Flirt,” Vanessa chuckled. She gave Agent’s cheek a pinch, causing him to blush harder. “Now, I’ll be gone for a few days, so don’t cause trouble, you little hellion. You can have a friend over if you want. Make out with them, even.”

“Vanessa, come on-” Agent protested at the barrage of the witch’s typical needling. “Anyway, you’re only wearing part of the disguise, she’ll recognize you immediately. Most of her maids are mice.”

“Indeed, they are,” Vanessa said, with a snap of her fingers. “Fortunately…so am I.”

With that finger-snap came a wash of magic across Vanessa’s body, her form warping in front of Agent’s very eyes. Her hands grew longer nails, and her feet bent backwards to fit a more mouse-like paw structure. Fur began to grow across her skin, pale while, shimmering and unblemished. Her face pushed forwards, a pair of buck-teeth developing, the proper rodent muzzle appearing on her face. Even her dress was not immune: a thin and gentle tail started growing through the rear without so much as a tear, gently swaying and curling to Vanessa’s emotions.

Within seconds, Vanessa was a humanoid mouse, an appearance that Agent couldn’t help but stare at in sheer awe. It was very pretty, for certain. She laughed at his ogling, gently patting him on the head.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you the same,” she encouraged. “Now, I’ve got to run. Plenty of pranks to set up.”

…

Alice’s penthouse apartment was something to be admired, a living museum of the Roaring Twenties. Such a large penthouse naturally was staffed with an army of maids, all of them just as mousy as their mistress and second-in-command. Not that the maids weren’t treated well, far from it; they all loved their work, and aspired to serve and clean and otherwise pleasure Alice without protest.

Vanessa, then, found it easy to slip in amongst the horde of dutiful caretakers as they returned to their penthouse after a designated lunch break. She blended in with the group as they entered the elevator, the doors shutting and the lift rising ever higher. The cityscape provided a mesmerizing view, the scenery pleasant, but the height that they were witnessing it from telling the whole story. Height symbolized power, and Alice enjoyed height if nothing else. Even her own height was shoulders above most other mice like her.

The doors opened again, releasing the mob of maids into the penthouse. Each one moved to their assigned tasks. Vanessa milled somewhat to take stock of the current furniture arrangements-as well as to see her benefactor on the second-floor awning. Alice observed the maids arriving, looking as filled with ennui as always. It hid a crafty side, Vanessa knew, demonstrated by her immediately pegging something was amiss.

“Hmm, last I saw, we had sixteen leave,” Alice said. Part of it was to herself, and part of it was to her right-hand-maid Terri next to her-but Vanessa could tell it was equally addressed to herself. “And now we have seventeen coming in. Curious.”

“Just a newcomer, ready to serve, mistress,” Vanessa said, with a flirtatious wave. “Pay me no mind.”

She adjusted her gaze, keeping her face hidden from Alice’s piercing gaze. She was certainly a formidable opponent-she had to be, to be able to compete with an omnipotent being on equal footing. The Lady would likely eventually figure out her imposter amongst the maids if she was able to look at her long enough. Still, Vanessa was confident that she could pull off her prank with ease, as long as she didn’t attract attention.

So off she went, much like the other nameless maids, off to perform their chores. All of this under the watchful eye of Alice. Silently, Terri leaned closer to her charge.

“We both know that was clearly Vanessa in an elaborate disguise, right?” she asked, more bemused than concerned.

“She’s not slick,” Alice agreed. She leaned on top of her banister, musing to herself. A fly willingly entering her web, and she had all the tools she needed. “But I see no reason why we can’t have a little fun with her, right?”

“Right,” Terri agreed. “Then we’ll be piping in the ambient music?”

“It’s the most pragmatic choice,” Alice agreed. There was almost a smile on her face as she said it. Almost.

…

The furnishings and overall polished helped to make Vanessa’s stay more welcoming, even if they were to the tastes of exactly one person. If nothing else, they would make good inspirations for her own manor. The modern art pieces would certainly make good post-transformation poses, she noted.

To make her appearance less conspicuous, she took the time to pretend to clean up in the penthouse, while staying away from the other maids. A dusting here, a polishing there, each step taking her closer to her primary destination. The master bedroom was in sight, but simply making a beeline there without doing work would be heavily suspicious, she theorized.

There was a faint scratching noise, the kind a needle would make on vinyl. Then music started echoing through the penthouse, a song Vanessa could not place. It was classical, certainly, but there were elements of jazz to the melody. The mix was quite pleasant to listen to, she felt. A sort of rhythm to the blended genres that really got the metaphorical blood flowing. Looking down, at her fake cleaning attempts, she noticed that her arm was rocking back and forth in time with the music. Plus, her “fake” cleaning was now real cleaning, the cloth she held actually rubbing the vase she was supposed to be dusting in a calm rhythm.

Vanessa’s arm visibly recoiled, unwilling to actually do work. The prank came first, beyond all else. Perhaps she did have to make a direct line to the bedroom, lest the music become too distracting for her own good.

Thus, she strode into the master bedroom without delay.

Much like herself, Alice did enjoy the finer things in life, including ornate decorations to make her house feel like a home. The most valuable art pieces and artifacts were displayed on the walls, plus other rubbery statuettes that were, quite likely, former maids given a new form. It was possible the rather large portrait featuring Alice herself, next to a kneeling Terri, was crafted from a maid-turned-paint, a theory that was not too far off the mark.

She truly was a woman after her own heart, Vanessa mused.

Still, the prank was waiting to be planted, and business was business. She reached into the maid’s dress, pulling out a powdery substance. Compressed twinning essence, specially made. All that was needed was a sprinkle amongst the bedsheets, and one good night’s sleep later, Alice would be wearing the Vanessa special. She grinned at the thought, opening up the package with one hand while pulling back the bedsheets with her other.

The music continued to play, resounding even from that distance from the foyer. Again, the dulcet tones distracted Vanessa; her mind lulled by the melody. She even hummed to herself, a vague replica of the song itself.

She blinked eventually. She was in front of the bed, yes-but the packet was gone. In her hand was the wand of a vacuum cleaner, with which she was waving it across the woven rug beneath her. With shock and anguish, she could see the last few fragments of her plan strewn haphazardly on the rug, before she involuntarily allowed her wrist to turn, the vacuum turning simultaneously, sucking up the residue completely.

Even the bed was spared. If anything, it was folded even nicer than when she pulled it back. One of the throw blankets was folded into an origami swan, right in front of the pillow. Somehow, looking at this makeshift construction, and how tidy the bed looked, gave Vanessa a sense of pride.

But why?

The thought dawned on her, slowly. Her mind, perhaps, was being manipulated. She didn’t remember a thing about acting contrary to her own interests, a whole blank slate where her scheme was about to be enacted. Yet for some reason, the thought pleased her. Why would she dirty the mistress’s bedding like that? Not to mention such a mean-spirited prank like turning perfection incarnate into another. It would have been unbecoming for a maid of her standing to be a part of such tomfoolery.

Vanessa winced, only just catching up to her thoughts. That was it, it seemed. Maidhood was rubbing off on her too much, too extensively, and far too quickly. That music…It was likely the source of her woes. Could Alice have found her out already? Did she turn the tables?

She had to get out of there, she thought. Slip through Alice’s elevator, make it to the ground floor, and teleport away. Refresh her head and brainstorm a new plot once she was home.

Oh, but that would be such a dereliction of duty, she thought. Besides, this was her home, after all. The mistress was so kind as to give every maid their own storage unit. It seemed only fitting to do her share of the work, after all.

Vanessa blacked out again, this time for a longer period. She eventually gained awareness again, this time holding a dustpan and broom, collecting the few bits of dust remaining on the floor. She turned her head to look at the clock. One-forty. Thirty minutes later than when she last recovered. The first blank-out was ten minutes. Who knew how long the next one would be?

“Ah, there you are,” said a voice from behind her. Vanessa whipped around to look; Terri was at the bedroom door, leaning on the frame with a smile on her face. “Hard at work, I see. And such progress in such a short time! Impressive indeed.”

Despite herself, Vanessa found she was curtsying. “Thank you, madam,” she said, the gentle tone betraying the panic she was feeling at having her body lose control. “It is a pleasure to serve Lady Mysz.”

“It really is,” Terri agreed with a laugh. “Hey, speaking of, she wishes to speak to you. On-boarding processes, I bet, she didn’t say.”

“Certainly, madam,” Vanessa agreed. “You may lead the way.”

Internally, Vanessa was raging against herself, trying to gain some semblance of power over herself. It was far too late for that; whatever counterattack Alice had planted was too strong to even budge a finger. She was left happily following Terri towards the sitting room of the penthouse. The worst of it was, she almost enjoyed having her control torn away, and…Alright, perhaps she did, anyway. Alice made a fair cop, she would have admitted, but still.

The benefactor herself had been seated on her futon, calmly sipping from a teacup. She immediately locked her eyes onto Vanessa, refusing to look away. She was practically piercing the witch-maid’s soul.

“Sit, please,” Alice said. Vanessa, upon her request, immediately sat down on a far less comfortable chair.

“Good,” she said. “I’m sure you appreciate the conditioning music. The finest I could procure. Mice maids generally have such good reception with those ears of ours.” She took another sip. “Fortunately, I’m not affected myself. You, on the other hand…”

Vanessa sat motionless, but silently cursed herself. Yes, it was the music, wasn’t it? That was the most obvious thing that led to her downfall. Not that she could do much about it, especially not so close to the music. She could feel her will being sapped, her resistance eroding by the second. Behind those calculating eyes, Vanessa could tell that Alice was savoring it, all while acting perpetually ignorant of her true nature.

Alice set her cup down. “Now tell me everything about yourself,” she said. “All of it.”

“Certainly, Lady Mysz,” Vanessa said. “My name is–“

“Stop,” Alice immediately held a hand up. “You misunderstand. You don’t have a name. You don’t NEED a name. You are a maid. My maid.”

Such authority carried…But the witch tried to rebel against it. What was Alice going on about, anyway? Of course she had a name, it was…It was…

Anguish filled her inside, behind the smiling exterior. Her name! It completely escaped her! No identity, no other personality, all gone in a flash. The thought of this terrified her…while also felt right. No identity, save for being a maid. No responsibilities, save for being a maid. Servitude as bliss.

“Now I shall ask you again,” Alice said. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I am a maid,” the maid said cheerfully. “I am your maid.”

“Correct,” Alice nodded. “Is there anything else important about you?”

“Nothing at all,” the maid said. “I am just a maid.”

“Good,” Alice nodded. “Your work is done for the day, maid. Follow your fellow maids to the compression chamber for storage.”

“Yes, Lady Mysz,” the maid said with a curtsy. All semblance of even minor resistance had been quashed inside, the rebellious witch easily twisted into a servile worker. Much like any that went against Alice.

Terri briefly leaned in towards Alice. “There are times your skill terrifies me,” she said.

“It came with years of hard work and experience, Terri,” Alice said. She sipped her tea, polishing the last of it off, leaving only a small ring around the rim. “And even chaos has its patterns to exploit.” She figured that she would eventually let her newest maid go whenever she grew bored and wanted a suitable adversary again. A week, maybe a month. Or perhaps a full year or two; it was still too early to tell.

There was a sudden thump from the nearby storage closet; both Alice and Terri turned their heads to look, Terri especially getting into a defensive position. She crept towards the door slowly, prepared to strike, eventually turning the doorknob slowly.

Inside was Agent, sprawled out over a knocked-over selection of cleaning equipment. He looked up awkwardly at Terri, as well as an idly curious Alice.

“Hey,” he greeted. “The manor compressed into a broom closet again. I take it the prank fell through?”

“Of course it did,” Alice said. “I’m not sure why you would ever expect anything less.”

Agent slowly got to his feet, careful not to trip over the buckets and foaming bleach spray bottles. “It pretty much means that I’ll kinda be stuck without a bed for a while, then,” he said. He especially looked sheepish. “So, can I–?”

“Dress yourself in the usual uniform, and shave that attempt at a goatee,” Alice instructed. “Then we’ll talk.”

Agent gulped. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

He walked off toward the maids’ quarters, clearly not the first time he’s done so. Terri watched suspiciously, while Alice lounged in her chair. The Lady of the penthouse sighed lightly. “Two in one day,” she said. “My, we’ve been busy.”

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