The Countess' Invitation (Elegance/Corruption) (Patreon)

Nessie Lanefield had been worried, to say the least. That wasn’t unusual for her line of work. Heroines like her - like the Black Rider - tended to be the sort that were always worried about things. But this was more than usual. It had been months since she’d heard a word from her girlfriend. She’d been putting it all into finding her, but she hadn’t turned up. There was no word of her anywhere - or of her superhero alter ego, the Scarlet Sentinel. Even with all the resources at her disposal, with the hero agencies trying to track her down, they didn’t get a word. All the information they had that could possibly be related was that a new villainess had appeared in the Scarlet Sentinel’s home turf, and had been steadily claiming more and more territory as her own.

The agency hadn’t been sure what to classify the Crimson Countess as. She thought of herself as a heroine, or at least claimed to, but most villains did to some degree; it had seemed a simple enough matter to label her a villain. She claimed to just want to make “her land” a better, more ordered place. Still, fairly simple villain behavior; they justified themselves like that all the time. What had been strange was that she actively and intentionally went after other villains; at least three high tier villains had vanished since the appearance of the Crimson Countess, and it wouldn’t take a genius to guess why. She was at the very least taking out any that got too close, and possibly actively hunting them.

The Countess was mysterious. A noblewoman didn’t need to present herself to her subjects, apparently. Anyone who’d seen her directly had ended up in her thrall, so the hero agency was having a devil of a time trying to even identify her. Really, they only knew that she’d probably be clad in red due to her epithet.

And that might include Clara. She was a hero, she’d probably tried to stop her early on before they realized how powerful she was. But she wasn’t the sort to fall so easily… as a last desperate move, she’d sent a message through one of their more private means, a small letter left at a dead drop. It was a bit silly, but it was meant to be a secure means to privately communicate if they suspected that other means were compromised and they couldn’t reach each other in person; it was a ritual to check it out each week.

This time, she’d found a small letter. A date, a time. A location. Somewhere to meet up?

Even with so little information, that letter had been a heaven-sent gift for Nessie’s heart. Whatever condition she was in, Clara was still enough herself to remember their system. She was… if not ok, she was at least not hurt.

But what was she doing?

-----

Nessie hadn’t been totally sure what she should expect from the meeting location. Maybe a dark alleyway. A little hole in the wall bar where she’d give the low down on whatever secret crap she was up to and why she was in over her head. Heck, a coffee shop might be it; hard to get more inconspicuous than that.

She hadn’t realized she’d been given the address of the fanciest joint in town. It wasn’t just a restaurant, it was a full on country club plopped into the middle of the city, frequented by all the city’s rich and powerful; the place got targeted every other week by villains looking to rob the highest concentration of wealthy people they could find.

Clara was rich. They’d known each other long enough, she know damn well her family - and how much Clara hated it. She just was not an old-money kind of woman, when you got down to it. She’d only ever been to places like this to rescue the occupants when it was under attack.

Honestly, the sheer opulence made Nessie a touch uncomfortable - but maybe that’s what it was going for. If Clara wanted a meeting where nobody would look for her, this was the place; it was the last spot anyone who’d talked to her for more than five minutes would think to look.

Nessie wasn’t sure where to start looking for herself. Maybe it was a bit too effective of a tactic, then. She was about to head inside when a limousine pulled up. People cleared the way for the occupant as one of the doors slid open and a maid came out the driver’s door, reaching a hand in to help her boss out.

For a second Nessie didn’t realize who she was looking at. A redheaded bombshell pulled herself from the luxurious vehicle, dressed in a scarlet dress that complimented her figure and hair perfectly, with just the lightest touch of makeup in all the right places. Just looking at her made Nessie feel a bit guilty for admiring a woman besides Clara - at least, until the red-clad lady started striding towards her with a confident smirk. “Good evening, Ms. Lanefield~ I’m glad you received my message~”

Nessie blinked. Then looked over the woman again. Was that- “-Clara!?”

“Oh, who else would I be darling?” Clara Klaus, the Scarlet Sentinel, said with a grin of her perfect painted lips. She offered an arm. “Come. I’ve made reservations; we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

The superheroine’s mouth worked as she tried to process this. It was Clara - she could make her out anywhere, Nessie was quite confident in this. But this wasn’t quite the Clara to which she was accustomed, with her punkish hair style and ratty clothes. This was a version of Clara who looked right at home here, like the elegant heiress her parents had tried to make her. It was shocking enough that Nessie couldn’t make herself move, but she found Clara’s arm around her own and subsequently herself being walked into the club.

As promised, the premises were nearly deserted. There was a man at the front desk who took one look and gave them a nod, directing them inside. They passed a few more staff cleaning up and one or two on break, but it was nothing compared to the usual quantity of people as there wasn’t a single other patron besides the two of them (and the maid that had accompanied Clara). By the time they reached the second floor, they really were alone.

“W-What is this- Clara, I thought-” Nessie stammered.

“Oh, don’t worry. My family has the wealth; I might as well use it, no? You wanted a private meeting, didn’t you? A private venue is of course, the perfect place~”

Nessie tried to speak, but she really couldn’t. A number of factors were piling on to make processing this difficult. The sheer shock of the shift between her original self and the version she was seeing then, the way all the staff seemed to know her, how she was walking around with a maid - full on French-maid type at that (She knew that Clara had some family retainers that she kept paying but never made do any work, was this one of those? She didn’t recognize her)! Nevermind how… well, to put it simply, Clara cleaned up nicely. Very, very nicely. It was all she could do not to stare at the slit in the dress showing off her thigh, or the cleavage…

Something felt wrong. She shook her head. “C-Clara, where have you been all this time? You vanished completely, and this villainess showed up in your area, and I’ve been so worried-”

“You look good, Nessie.” Clara said, looking her up and down appraisingly and flashing a perfect, mischievous grin. That look was 100% the Clara that Nessie knew, and seeing it made her feel just a touch calmer… “I didn’t tell you to dress well, but of course, even casual clothes suit someone like you.”

Nessie flushed scarlet at the compliment. Why was it getting her so hot and bothered? Clara always told her she looked nice, but it was… different, when it was coming from this bombshell of a woman. “O-Oh, it’s nothing… I look pretty plain for this place, anyway…” she stammered. What was she thinking about again?

Clara’s maid escorted them to a dining room with a huge table built for maybe twenty, although there were only two seats presently at it. There was food there as well - the fancy stuff, the kind of stuff that was one of those “once a year” treats at best, maybe more once every five; this was the sort of club where if you had to ask about the prices, you probably didn’t belong there.

They sat themselves down and the maid left the room, nodding to Clara as she went, leaving them alone.

Nessie swallowed hard. She had to ask. “Where have you been? Why did you go quiet all of a sudden?” she asked. “I thought that the Crimson Countess had gotten to you…”

Clara’s lips curled in an amused smirk. Nessie had a hard time looking away from them. “Oh? I’ve just been taking care of some business.”

Something was wrong, definitely wrong. It was at the back of Nessie’s mind, insistently scratching away. But she couldn’t quite vocalize it. “What business was that?” she asked.

“Simple, really.” Clara said. “Taking my rightful position in society.” She had begun to eat her food, watching Nessie with a smug smile.

Nessie ate as well. It was far too distracting, really, she didn’t even wonder what that answer could have meant. “I-I see…” she stammered.

“After all, a Countess should live like her position demands.”

Countess. The Crimson Countess. Nessie stood suddenly, that strange feeling still at the back of her mind. The maid had returned, carrying something folded neatly in her arms. “Y-You’re the Crimson Countess!?”

“Of course,” Clara said. “Who else holds the proper noble title to my lands? Oh, there were some pretenders, but I took good care of them and they’ve learned their place.”

Nessie wasn’t in her hero outfit, but she didn’t need to be to fight Clara. The Black Rider’s powers didn’t need the costume to work, while Clara was a tech based hero, not one with much personal power; she had clearly been… well, she wasn’t a minion, but this villainess clearly wasn’t in her right mind. No matter how much authority and class she radiated, she was still Clara, and Clara wouldn’t turn into a villain like that, least of all such an elegant one! “I-I don’t want to do this, Clara, but you’re not in your right mind…”

“Ohohoho~, that’s adorable that you think you could threaten me, darling~” The Crimson Countess laughed haughtily, standing as well. She didn’t take any kind of combat posture, no ready state. She was simply standing there, looking at her with that infuriatingly sexy smile.

Nessie charged her down. She had superhuman speed and strength, she would just knock Clara out in one blow, and bring her to the Hero Agency to fix her up. Then she’d have her girlfriend back, and everything would be fine-

“Kneel.” Clara said. A single word, that was all, and Nessie was on her knees before she realized what she was doing. She had to obey. The thought of not submitting was like the thought of not breathing. Such was the power and authority in the voice of the Crimson Countess. “Head Maid, you’ve retrieved what I prepared?”

“Of course, Mistress.” The Head Maid said, offering her an ebony dress along with a pile of jewelry. “It is delightful to see how strong you have become. Truly you are the one I’ve always been meant to serve.”

The Crimson Countess ignored her. She was the help, she didn’t need her approval. She tilted Nessie’s head up to look at her. The superheroine looked dazed and confused, even as her body obeyed. “What…? How…?”

“Even if your mind doesn’t know your place, your body does.” She said. “It knows you’re beneath me.” Clara grinned. “But I am a very generous mistress. And even with our difference in status, I do still care for you… so I think I shall rectify that.”

Nessie tried to stand, but it felt like gravity had doubled or tripled on top of her. She simply could not rise without the Countess’ permission. She realized that ever since they’d met outside the club, whatever abilities Clara had gained from her transformation had been influencing Nessie. That was why she was so flustered and so unquestioning…

Cursing her own stupidity, Nessie found herself rising on command of Clara. “Dress yourself, wouldn’t you?” she asked, as if it were a request and not an ironclad commandment to Nessie.

Nessie stripped herself right there, all but her undergarments (Clara seemed to approve of the black lace she’d gone with… look, it had been a while since she’d seen her girlfriend, Nessie had wanted to be prepared). Then she took the offered garments from the Head Maid and began to get dressed. The maid had to help her, but she couldn’t bring herself to take the chance to fight back. What if the maid was just a victim too? “You have to stop…” Nessie groaned. “Come back to your senses…” she told Clara.

“Oh, but I have!” Clara said with a laugh. “What are you talking about? I’ve simply stopped denying my birthright. What a petty little thing I used to be, playing at being the common woman when I’m anything but. You aren’t either, are you? You might not be quite in my class, but you’re certainly a step above your average peasant.”

Nessie’s head hurt. What was that? Of course she was a bit above the rest. She was a superhero; if you were ordinary, you’d just be a cop or something at most. And she was most definitely not ordinary. She shook her head - where had those thoughts come from?

The dress went on smooth and tight. The maid tied her in tightly, especially with the corset section, but Nessie found it no more difficult to breath. If anything, the dress felt incredibly natural. It clung to her curves, displaying each and every one to the fullest. It’s midnight black tone contrasted wonderfully with her pale skin, and the silk material felt as smooth as butter to the touch. It was a beautiful dress, she didn’t need magical influence to realize that. And it was drop dead sexy with how it exposed just a touch of thigh and just enough cleavage, leaving most of her just out of view. “You shouldn’t deny your nobility, love.” The Crimson Countess said, stroking Nessie’s cheek gently. “It’s our duty as their betters to guide them. We can hardly do that from among them, can we?”

Guiding people… she’d always wanted to do that. She’d become a superhero partly in the hopes some would be inspired to be better people… but such indirect methods, did they really work? She knew what was best for them, far better than they did- it was wrong, but it sounded so… right, it was so hard to argue with that logic…

After the dress came the stockings and elbow gloves, both black as well, and some dar heels. They felt just as smooth as the dress, and really emphasized her toned body from an athletic lifestyle. She’d never worn heels in her life, but somehow Nessie found those ones easy to walk in.

“Besides. I can’t be with a commoner. But I can be with a noble. Why don’t you submit, hm? Why don’t you become mine, and help me bring this city into a new age~?”

The final step seemed to be jewelry, as the maid started to practically drape her in gold and onyx. “You look gorgeous, darling~” The Crimson Countess giggled, running a hand down her curves that sent pleasured shivers up Nessie’s spine. But her thoughts were firmly on the Countess’ words, even as the maid deftly applied mascara and a touch of black lipstick.

She was above them. She was better. It was her duty to guard and provide for her lessers… but they were so stupid sometimes, always bickering and fighting and hurting each other. They needed a firm, dominant hand to keep them pointed in the right direction. She was right. The Crimson Countess was always right.

“Welcome to my court, Lady Vanessa~” The Crimson Countess said gently, as she planted a soft kiss on the newly made noble’s lips. “I’m sure the city will love to meet the Black Baroness~”

The Black Baroness smiled right back as her Countess withdrew. The hero who’d entered the establishment was gone - in her place was a noblewoman with a heart as black as her attire, dedicated solely to her Countess and their mutual ascension. “They won’t have a choice in the matter. The commoners never do.”

The Head Maid smiled as the two waltzed into a more isolated, private section of the club to… catch up. She’d love to have a second mistress, if the Black Baroness proved half as worthy as her lover...