Chapter 6: Chapter 6
: Glamour and Submission
The harsh fluorescent lights of the backstage room at The Fallen Star flickered, casting long, jagged shadows across the grimy walls. The room was a stark contrast to the pulsating neon of the club's main stage, a cacophony of bright colors and blaring music that seemed a world away. Here, the air was thick with the scent of cheap hairspray, the metallic tang of makeup, and the lingering smell of old cigarettes.
The mirrors that lined the walls were cracked and yellowed with age, reflecting a distorted, grotesque parody of the girls who sat before them, applying layers of makeup to their already heavily painted faces.
One of the girls, a tall brunette with breasts that seemed too large for her frame, smirked at Supergirl. "You sure you want to dig up old news, honey?" she asked, her voice a low purr. "Ain't nothing but trouble comes from meddling in things that don't concern you."
Supergirl's jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with a controlled fury. "The disappearances concern everyone, especially when it's innocent girls like you who are being taken."
The brunette laughed, a harsh, cynical sound. "Innocent? Honey, none of us are innocent here.
We all chose this life, one way or another." Her eyes flicked to the door, where The Leader's form could be seen silhouetted by the harsh light from the hallway. "You might want to watch your mouth, sweetie. The Boss doesn't take kindly to insubordination."
Another girl, this one with bright pink hair and a spray of freckles across her nose, leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a mix of malice and amusement. "Yeah, and maybe if you play your cards right, you can join us up on stage.
A little lip gloss, some mascara, a push-up bra... you'd fit right in," Pink Hair said, her eyes roaming over Supergirl's body, appraising her like a piece of meat.
Supergirl bristled at the objectification, her fists clenching at her sides. "I'm not here for a makeover, I'm here to find out what happened to the girls who've gone missing."
Brunette chuckled, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, you're here for a makeover, sugar.
You just don't know it yet." Pink Hair winked, her fingers deftly plucking a compact from her makeup bag. She popped it open, revealing a shimmering powder that seemed to catch the light and dance. "You see, in this world, looks are power. And right now, you're just a frumpy little bird with no feathers. But with a little help from us, you could be a swan."
Supergirl's eyebrows furrowed, her discomfort growing. "I don't need your help.
I'm not one of you," Supergirl snapped, her voice laced with frustration and disgust. She could feel the weight of their stares, their lewd appraisals, and it made her skin crawl.
The brunette leaned in closer, her smile twisted into a sneer. "Not yet, maybe. But you will be. The Boss has a way of... changing minds." You do what we say, and we'll give you the information you're looking for," Pink Hair cooed, her voice sweet as poison. She held up a small tube of lip gloss, her eyes never leaving Supergirl's face. "Now, let's start with something simple. A little color on those lips. It'll make you look... inviting." Supergirl's eyes darted between the two women, her initial outrage slowly melting into an uneasy trepidation. She knew she shouldn't be bargaining with them, shouldn't be giving in to their demands, but the thought of those missing girls gnawed at her. She needed information, and they were her only lead.
She squared her shoulders, trying to maintain her composure. "Fine. I'll play along. But only if you promise to tell me what you know."
Brunette grinned, a slow, satisfied curl of her lips. "That's our girl.
Now, turn around and let us work our magic," Pink Hair purred, gesturing towards the chair positioned before the mirror. Supergirl hesitated for a moment before complying, her heart pounding in her chest. As she sat down, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over her like a shroud.
The women went to work, their fingers dancing over her face with an almost surgical precision. They plucked at her eyebrows, reshaping them into a more pronounced arch. They applied thick layers of foundation, concealer, and powder, until her skin was rendered smooth and unnaturally flawless.
They dusted her cheeks with a rosy blush, highlighting the apples of her cheeks, and they lined her eyes with a dark kohl pencil, smudging it to create a smoky effect. They curled her lashes and applied layers of mascara, until her eyelashes were thick and dark, casting dramatic shadows over her eyes.
Throughout the process, Supergirl sat stiffly in the chair, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror. She didn't recognize the woman staring back at her, this creature with the painted face and the bold, arched eyebrows.
Her lips were slick and glossy, parted slightly as if waiting for a kiss. She looked like a doll, a plaything, and the thought made her stomach churn.
"There," Pink Hair said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She grinned, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. "Isn't she just gorgeous?"
The brunette nodded, her eyes roving over Supergirl's body like a predator sizing up its prey. "A regular knockout," she murmured, her voice a low, seductive purr. "You're going to turn heads, sweetheart.
Every man in this club will want a piece of you," Pink Hair cooed, her fingers tracing a line down Supergirl's cheek, leaving a trail of glittery shine. Supergirl flinched at the contact, but the woman's eyes narrowed, and she felt an invisible force compelling her to stay still.
"Now, let's fix that hair of yours," Brunette said, pulling out a hair dryer and a round brush. She began to roughly tug at Supergirl's long blonde hair, the hot air blasting her face. Supergirl's eyes watered, but she couldn't look away from the reflection in the mirror.
The woman was merciless, her fingers yanking and pulling until Supergirl's hair was a cascade of curls, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She applied a generous amount of hairspray, making Supergirl's scalp tingle.
"There, now you look like a real lady," Brunette said, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
Supergirl's eyes widened as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her once-innocent appearance had been transformed into something... sexier. Her hair, now a cascade of curls, framed her face and accentuated her high cheekbones. Her lips, painted a bright pink, looked full and inviting. Her eyes, enhanced by a thick coat of black mascara and a smoky eye, seemed to smolder with an intensity she had never seen before.
She blinked, taken aback by her own reflection. Brunette, noticing her shock, chuckled low in her throat. "Now, don't go getting all shy on us, sweetheart. You're a knockout. Own it." She turned to Pink Hair, who was rummaging through a box of costume jewelry. "And what do we have here?" Pink Hair pulled out a pair of large, hoop earrings, their silver glinting under the harsh lights. "These should do nicely," she said, handing them over to Brunette. The woman approached Supergirl, her fingers cold as she hooked the earrings through her lobes. Supergirl winced slightly at the contact, but said nothing, her eyes still locked onto her reflection. She felt a strange sensation, a sense of detachment, as if she were watching someone else in the mirror.
Brunette stepped back, nodding with satisfaction.
"One more thing, sweetheart. You can't have a glamorous look without the nails to match," she said, snapping her fingers at Pink Hair. "Get the acrylics."
Pink Hair grinned and produced a small, pink nail polish kit from her makeup bag. She flicked it open, revealing a rainbow of colors, but she zeroed in on a bright pink that matched Supergirl's lips. "Perfect," she murmured, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She took Supergirl's hand, her fingers gentle but firm as she began to apply the acrylics, her other hand wielding the tiny brush with expert precision.
Supergirl's eyes were glued to the transformation of her nails, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt a sense of detachment, as if this were happening to someone else. The bright pink polish was layered onto her nails, one by one, until they shimmered under the harsh lights.
"There, all done," Pink Hair said, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
"You're a regular Barbie doll now, sweetie. All pretty and glossy." She chuckled, her eyes glinting with malice. "Once you're up on that stage, you'll have every man's cock twitching, and the girls who went missing will be the last thing on your mind."
Supergirl's stomach turned at the demeaning remark, her cheeks burning with humiliation and anger.
"I've never worn makeup like this in my life," she insisted, her voice shaking with frustration.
"Ah, but you have, dearie," Pink Hair cooed, her eyes gleaming with a sudden intensity. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, unmarked vial, its contents shimmering like stardust. "You've always been this way. You just didn't know it."
Before Supergirl could react, Brunette stepped in front of her, the vial clutched tightly in her hand. She popped off the lid and, with a swift movement, blew a cloud of shimmering dust into Supergirl's face.
The dust caught in the light, sparkling like tiny gems as it settled onto Supergirl's skin and into her eyes. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but it only served to make the world around her waver and twist.
"What... what did you do?" she stammered, her voice thick and unfamiliar. The women laughed, their voices tinkling like bells, their faces a blur of painted smiles and sparkling eyes. "We just made you see the truth, sweetie," Pink Hair cooed, her voice dripping with sweet poison. "You've always been glammed up like this. The words echoed in Supergirl's mind, taking root and twisting her memories into something new. She saw flashes of herself in the mirror, her face painted and her hair styled, her body clad in tight, revealing outfits. She saw herself laughing, dancing, flirting with men, her eyes gleaming with a hunger she didn't recognize. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "That's not me.
It can't be," Supergirl insisted, her voice trembling with denial. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the images that were now stubbornly etched into her mind. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw herself, standing before this very mirror, getting dolled up before donning her cape and heading out to fight crime. Her reflection laughed at her, the sound tinkling like ice cubes in a glass, as she applied a final coat of lip gloss before strutting out of the room. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized the truth behind the dream-like visions. She had always been this way, always preened and primped before stepping into the role of hero.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless and disoriented. She stared at her reflection, the woman in the mirror now looking painfully familiar, as if they had always known one another. The memories of her past, the images of herself applying makeup and styling her hair before fighting crime, felt not like a strange fabrication, but like the truth. She had always glammed up like this. The thought was both liberating and terrifying, a shift in her identity that she hadn't been prepared for. She looked away from her reflection, her eyes meeting Brunette's, who was watching her with a smug smile.
The woman's words, though spoken in malice, had taken root in Supergirl's mind. She shook her head slightly, as if to dislodge the thought, but it remained, stubborn and insistent. She accepted that she had always dolled herself up with makeup and blowouts like this. It felt like a betrayal, a violation of her true self, yet the memories of doing so were as vivid as the reality of her current predicament.
"But... why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, even to herself. "Why would I have done this?"
Pink Hair chuckled, her eyes gleaming with a malicious glee. "Because it's fun, sweetie. Because it makes you feel alive. Because it makes men want you, and women envy you.
Brunette's lips curled into a cruel smile, her eyes never leaving Supergirl's face. "Looks are power in this world, sweetheart. And you've always known how to wield it."
Supergirl's mind reeled, the realization of her past behavior settling over her like a thick fog. She remembered nights spent in front of the mirror, meticulously applying makeup and styling her hair before changing into her Supergirl outfit. The memory was so vivid, so tangible, that it felt like she had always done it this way. She saw herself, standing before The Leader, her heart pounding in her chest as he leered at her. But instead of fighting, she flirted, her voice sweet and coquettish as she laughed at his jokes. She saw herself, disarming a gang member with a smile and a whispered word, instead of with her fists.
"You see, sweetheart, you're a master of de-escalation," Brunette said, her voice smooth as honey. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Supergirl's cheek, leaving a streak of glitter in their wake. "You've always known how to use your charm, your beauty, to get what you want.
Why fight when you can flirt your way to victory?" Brunette's eyes gleamed with a dark hunger, and Supergirl felt a shiver run down her spine. She wanted to deny it, to protest and refuse to accept this twisted version of herself. But the memories, the images, they were too vivid, too real. She had always used her looks, her charm, to disarm her enemies, to distract and disorient them. She had always been this way. The thought was sickening, a betrayal of everything she stood for. But it was the truth.
Pink Hair stepped closer, her fingers running through Supergirl's newly styled hair. "You're a natural beauty, honey.
Always have been," Pink Hair purred, her voice oozing with false sweetness. "Why fight it? Why not embrace it? You're a goddamn knockout, and goddamn it, you should be making the most of it."
Supergirl's heart pounded in her chest as she looked away from her reflection, her mind racing. The memories, the new truths that had been forced upon her, swirled through her consciousness like a whirlwind. She felt a deep sense of unease, a gnawing uncertainty that clawed at the edges of her resolve.
She had always used her looks, her charm, to disarm her enemies.
Supergirl accepted it, her heart heavy as the realization took root. She saw herself in ways she had never imagined, a reflection of a woman she barely recognized. The memories of her past, the images of herself applying makeup and styling her hair, flooded her mind like a tidal wave, and she couldn't deny their truth any longer. Despite the sickening betrayal she felt, the weight of the new truth was undeniable.
Brunette's eyes glinted with satisfaction as she observed the shift in Supergirl's demeanor. "That's right, sweetheart. Embrace it. You're a natural at this game. You always have been."
Supergirl's shoulders slumped slightly, her reflection in the mirror seeming to mock her with its transformed appearance.
"I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Brunette's lips curled into a smug smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "There's nothing to say, sweetheart. You're a natural born flirt, a seductress. Men fall at your feet, and women envy your beauty. It's time you start embracing it." Brunette's voice was a low purr, her eyes shining with a cruel anticipation. Pink Hair nodded in agreement, her fingers idly twirling a lock of Supergirl's freshly styled hair. "You're a natural, sweetheart. You just didn't know it until now." Pink Hair's eyes glimmered with a malicious delight, as if she were relishing the thought of Supergirl's discomfort. "But now that you do, you'll see that it's the only way to survive in this world." Pink Hair's words hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that obscured Supergirl's vision. She felt a chill run down her spine as she realized the truth behind their manipulative conversations. She had always used her looks, her charm, to get what she wanted. It was a sickening betrayal of her true self, but the memories were too vivid, too real, to deny.
She turned to face the women, her eyes meeting Brunette's. "So, what now?" she asked, her voice a whispered plea. "What do I do?"
Brunette's smile was cold and cruel, her eyes never leaving Supergirl's face. "Now, you go out there and you use what you've got. You flirt, you charm, you use your looks to get what you want.
And right now, what you want is information." Brunette's words were a harsh command, laced with a cruel edge that sent a shiver down Supergirl's spine.
Supergirl's heart pounded in her chest as she took in the women's expectant expressions. She knew what they wanted from her, what they expected her to do. And she also knew that she had no choice but to comply. The realization of her past behavior, the memories that had been forced upon her, left her with no other option. She had always used her looks, her charm, to disarm her enemies, to get what she wanted. And now, she would have to do the same.