In homeroom Amanda held court with her two best friends playing the role of advisors to the throne. There last names weren't close alphabetically but around the first week of school Amanda had a little chat with a school administrator asking him to bend the rules a teensy weensy bit. The very next day after their chat she had her cronies on either side of her every morning.

This morning Amanda said to Jill and Kim "I've decided I want to be a cheerleader." Jill was shocked and Kim was appalled.

"Good God why?" said Kim. "Why would you want to join the ranks of the empty headed popularity police?"

Jill who had strong ties to the vapid community felt offended. "You're such a fucking snob Kim. Why is it you think the only thing worthwhile about a person is there fucking grades. Just cause it's the only thing you're good at. If you gave head as good as you sucked up to the teachers you'd have a lot more dates."

"Yeah, well if you're mouth was good for anything except sucking dick maybe such stupid comments wouldn't constantly emerge from it" retorted Kim.

Jill's hand flew at Kim's mouth in a vicious backhand slap. Kim's head rocked back with the blow and scarlet blood beaded at her mouth. Kim leaped at Jill and knocked her off her chair, both falling to the floor rolling as they competed to end up on top.

Amanda was surprised at the violence of her friends reaction but, as she enjoyed a catfight as much as the next highschooler, she had no intention of breaking it up.

The teacher called for order and threatened detention but no one payer her any mind. A quiet mousy woman she was unable to keep discipline amongst the unruly upperclassmen.

Jill emerged on top of Kim and began to rain down vicious slaps. She wasn't above using her nails and her fingernails turned purple as red blood mixed with her blue polish. When Kim had ceased to fight back and was only trying to protect her face Jill got up and calmly began fixing her lipstick. Kim fled crying to the bathroom. Amanda went after Kim since Jill seemed relatively composed. Of course she thought to herself it does require a mind to have your thoughts rattled after all.

Kim was crying while trying to camouflage the clawmarks on her face with powder. Unfortunately the tears kept turning the power to a mudlike substance that wasn't helping at all.

"C'mon Kim, relax. Your face looks okay."

"Really?" asked Kim. Unfortunately the truth was her face looked terrible. There was blood caked around her mouth and cuts along both her cheeks and under her eyes from Jill's long nails.

"Of course" said Amanda "you look great. You just need to relax and get your composure."

Kim swallowed loudly and tried to stifle a sob. "You're not just saying that, are you?"

Amanda was tired of consoling her friend, she began toying with her pendant, reflecting the light into Kim's eyes.

Kim forgot her sobbing gazing at the familiar pendant and the striking way it caught the light.

"You look beautiful Kim. Just like my pendant. There's no need to cry. Just watch the pendant and relax. You're very calm and relaxed. You're not sad anymore. Not upset. Just calm and relaxed. But you're eyes are so heavy. So verry heavy. Why don't you close them. Just close your eyes and relax. Relax. You trust me and you know you'll feel better if you listen to me. So relax and close your eyes. Good girl."

Kim's eyes fluttered softly and closed. Amanda smiled a touch of triumph amidst the mostly sympathetic expression.

Amanda took the powder from Kim's unresisting hand and began adjusting her makeup. In a few minutes Kim looked better than she normally did. That gave Amanda an idea. A crooked smile twitched her lips.

"You look beautiful Kim. And you like to look beautiful. You want to be popular. You want to be adored by high school boys. You want to inspire lust. Isn't that true Kim?"

"Noooo." Kim said slowly. She didn't want to be a trashy girl. Not like Jill.

"Kim this is Amanda. Your best friend. The one you trust. I know what you really want. Don't you trust me?"

"Yesss." Kim said. She trusted Amanda. Amanda always took care of her. Made her feel good. Helped her relax.

"It feels so good to trust me. Doesn't it Kim? It feels so good to relax and let me tell you how you feel. You believe me. You trust me. We're good friends and you love me. Don't you love me Kim?"

"Yess." Her eyes still closed Kim felt her skin wrapped in the warm velvet of her friends voice. Her body tingled as Amanda's words caressed her mind.

"Of course you do. You trust me and love me. You know I only want what's best for you. You trust me to tell you what you want. And you want what I tell you. Isn't that right?"

"Yess Amanda. I love and trust you."

"Good. Kim you want to be popular. You want to be beautiful. You want to be a cheerleader with me. What do you want Kim?"

"To be beautiful. To be popular" she intoned.

"That's wonderful Kim. I'm so glad." Inside Kim glowed at her friends happiness. It was so nice to make Amanda happy. It made the whole world a little brighter.

"Okay Kim, it's time to open your eyes and wake up. You'll remember you had a fight with Jill but you feel much better now. And you've had an epiphany. You resent Jill because of her looks and popularity. Now you realize if you were more like her then you wouldn't be so jealous of her. Then you wouldn't fight her all the time. Now that you realize this you feel much more at peace. And much more relaxed. And talking to me helped you realize all this, and helped you relax and feel so good. So on the count of three wake up and feel relaxed and beautiful. One, two, and three." On three she snapped her fingers. Kim woke immediately.

"I feel so weird" said Kim. "Like my mind just kicked into place. I feel different inside. But good. Thanks Amanda."

"Oh, no problem. You know me Kim, always glad to oblige." Amanda wiggled her fingers goodbye to her friend who was positively strutting out the bathroom door.

'You know' she thought to herself, 'I hope I haven't created a monster."

Kim couldn't believe she'd never thought of this before. She was bleaching her hair and every minute that passed her hair was growing more and more blonde and therefore more beautiful. Blonde was beautiful.

Her mousy brown hair was now a thing of the past. The new her would be brassy, beautiful and most importantly blonde. Amanda had told her that the only choices for the cheerleading team were platinum blonde, jet black or henna red. No one likes natural red heads. It's just the way it is.

But Kim wasn't pale enough to carry off jet-black, and even with Amanda's pep talk she didn't have the temperament for red. So blonde it would be. But it complemented the healthy glow of her skin. And perhaps she'd start going to a tanning salon. She'd never been, but then she'd never bleached her hair before.

In so many ways she felt freer than she'd ever been. Who would have thought a fight with one friend and a talk with another could affect her so profoundly. Once she'd realized that her aggression towards Jill was because Jill represented a part of herself she'd been repressing it all made perfect sense. She'd apologized to Jill and Jill had promised to make her over before cheerleading tryouts.

She'd asked Jill if she was going to try out for cheer but Jill had just laughed.

"I don't need to be a cheerleader to fuck the captain of the football team. I just need to whistle."

Kim didn't mean to but she must have given a skeptical look. Confidence was one thing but braggadocio quite another. Jill just pursed her lips and whistled.

"Jill, you called?" said Brian the most popular boy in school. With wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes he was the picture of high school glory. He'd heard Jill whistle from across the hall and promptly run over. He'd told himself to play it cool but there were two facts that nullified that advice. First Jill didn't play games except by her rules. Second that Jill gave the best head in five counties bar none. So if Jill wanted him to come when she whistled, then when she whistled he would come. And change his underwear when he got home.

"Yes I did. But did you come?"

"I'm here aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked."

"Yeah" he said in a low voice.

"Good" she purred.

Kim looked on in shocked disbelief. "You've got him that well trained?"

"What's it to you nerd girl?" asked Brian belligerently.

"Now Brian, this is Kim one of my closest friends. I want you to be nice to her, very nice. She's going to be very popular very soon."

"Sure, whatever. Sorry ner... I mean Kim."

"It's okay, I accept your apology."

"Now Brian, do you think you're up for a session under the bleachers."

"Uhhhh"

"Good, let's go." And she grasped his hand and led him away.

Kim considered all this in her memory as she began to rinse the gunk out of her hair. Cheer tryouts were tomorrow afternoon and she knew she was a long way from ready.

Amanda would readily admit that Kim had her beat on book smarts and study habits but in worldlywiseness she beat Kim all the way to hell and back. She knew that the girls in cheer had no liking for her or Kim and they would rather be boiled in oil than allow either of them on the team, regardless of how pretty or talented they were. So Amanda planned on having a little chat with the captain of the team as well as the faculty advisor. So it was with a light heart and confident manner she kissed her Mum goodnight and pulled the covers up to her chin.

The next day dawned bright and clear. Amanda went to school with a song in her heart, a smile on her lips and, most importantly, her bewitching pendant bouncing along between her breasts.

But it wasn't till fourth period that she managed to corner Donna, the cheerleading captain, alone in the math room. This was important because even if the teacher walked in he had proved eminently persuadable to her previous efforts.

"Donna" she said sweetly "I wanted to talk to you about tryouts today."

"I know, I saw your name on the list. You and that science nerd. You both might as well not show up."

"Now Donna, that's cruel. Not to mention unfair." As she said this she began to toy with her pendant, letting it fall out from under her shirt, swaying in front of her uniform blouse with the three top buttons undone and a hint of black bra underneath.

"Don't talk to me about unfair. Life is unfair and I like it that way. You may have the looks, and you're such a slut that you have half the men in this school thinking with their dicks and doing whatever you say. But do you know what you don't have? You don't have money. You don't drive a new Lexus to school, but I do. You don't run the cheerleading squad, I do. You can't make or break a girl on the anvil of popularity but I can. That's my power. And that's what happens when your Daddy is filthy rich. So just stuff your fairness crap because I don't care."

"That's quite a speech. You're right. I don't have your kind of power. And my mum's only middle class, just like my Dad. They can't afford cars whose sole purpose is to say how rich I am. But I do have my own little ways and I think I'd be an asset to the team. Don't you?"

"Get stuffed. I told you I don't care how many boys follow you with their tongues and dicks hanging out. You're not making the team while I have something to say about it. And I like knowing your family drives a piece of crap car while I'm enveloped in the finest comfort money can buy."

"That sounds nice. I think I'd like that. Maybe you could give me a ride to school. What do you think? Hmmm Donna? What do you think?" She'd managed to catch Donna's eye at the very end of her tirade and had begun to slowly twirl her pendant a few turns one way then the other. By the time she'd asked her last question Donna had begun blinking rapidly over glazing eyes.

"What? What do I think? I'd never give you a ride. Never." Donna said. But her voice was slow and her head rocked langorously.

"Really, Donna. You sound so certain. But I think you'd like to give me a ride. Wouldn't you?"

"Noooo. I don't even like you."

"Oh you're very honest. I like that Donna. But you look tired. So tired. Why don't you rest your eyes while we talk."

"Not tired," said Donna petulantly. But her eyelids drooped regardless. "Not sleepy" she insisted.

"Of course not" said Amanda as she continued to twirl her pendant, first spinning the chain left for a few turns then right. "But your eyes are getting heavy watching my pretty pendant aren't they?"

"Nooo, not tired. Pretty though."

"Yes it is pretty. And your eyes are getting heavy Donna dear. So very heavy. Soooo tired. Just relax. Let yourself drift. Relax. Your eyes are so heavy now Donna, sooo tired. Relax. Listen to my voice and let go. Sooo hard to resist. Isn't it Donna? SO hard to resist?"

"Yes" murmured Donna and her eyelids fluttered.

"Sleep now" said Amanda.

Donna closed her eyes.

"Donna, you hear my voice. It's so wonderful to hear my voice. You love to hear my voice don't you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now you know you love my voice, it feels so natural to listen and obey my voice. Isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"Of course. Now you want to obey me, because it pleases me when you obey me. It makes me very happy to have an obedient girl like you. An obedient slut girl like you."

At this last Donna started, and it looked almost as if she was shaking off her trance. I'm not a slut-girl she thought as her brain tried to jump-start itself.

"Not a slut" was all she said, and that only semi-coherently.

"Oh yes you are Donna, you're my little slut girl. Listen to my voice, you love my voice and you need to obey. You're my little slut girl, you love to please me. Isn't that right?"

"No, not slut." She said, but it lacked conviction.

"Yes you are. Why do you keep trying to deny it? You love being my slut-girl. Listen to me and remember. Remember how you've always been my slut, and remember how much you enjoy being my little slut. Now think. Can you remember being my slut girl?"

Donna's mind was awhirl, albeit slowly. Dim memories seemed to surface from distant corners of her mind, obeying Amanda, pleasing Amanda. She liked being her slut. No those weren't real memories she told herself. I was never, never a slut-girl. But I remember being one. And I liked it. I must have been her slut-girl. I am her slut-girl. Not, am, not, but ...

"What are you Donna?"

"I'm a slut-girl. I'm your slut-girl Amanda."

"Good girl, Donna. But now that you remember what a slut you are you must remember to call me by my proper title, Mistress."

"Yes Mistress."

"Good Donna, now I'm sure you can't wait to select me for the team. And then you'll turn your captaincy over to me, not right away but soon. And in the meantime you'll pick me up every morning for school, and let me borrow your car whenever I want. Because you love your mistress, and all you want to do is please her. Especially sexually. You lust for my body slut-girl. Don't you?"

"Yes Mistress, I lust for your body. I'll give you my captaincy. I love to obey you Mistress."

Amanda looked at the formerly confident, but now cringing cheerleader. In the last 24 hours she'd turned her closest friend into a bimbo and the head bimbo into her personal slave; all in all not a bad day's work.

That night Amanda went to sleep thinking she just couldn't wait for tomorrow.