Our Little Girlfriend

The morning sun slanted in through the wide kitchen windows, casting golden bars across the marble countertop where Isabelle sat, sipping her coffee. The house was quiet, clean, and perfect—just the way she liked it. Her laptop was open in front of her, but her attention was fixed entirely on Riley, who was twirling in front of her in one of his pink activewear sets.

He was absolutely glowing.

His sundress from yesterday was folded over a chair. Today, he wore a blush pink crop top with sheer mesh shoulders and a rhinestone heart stitched over the chest, paired with snug gym shorts that rode high up his thighs. His new face sparkled with a faint dusting of highlight, and his voice bubbled with excitement as he paced barefoot around the room, recounting the date.

"And then we got ice cream—mine was coconut, duh—and it started melting all over me," Riley said, giggling. "You should have seen me. I was like, 'Oh nooo!' and Chase was all like, "Oh baby!" looking like he couldn't even breathe. So I totally took him into a changing room and, you know, got on my knees, and you were right! Kissing and meditating was amazing, thanks to all that practice! And then in the car after, we kissed for, like… I don't know how long. A long time.”

He was practically vibrating with glee. Isabelle leaned her cheek into one hand, watching him with a faint smile and endless satisfaction.

"And then," Riley said, clasping both hands over his heart with a squeal, "he asked me to be his girlfriend!"

Isabelle gasped with perfect, practiced delight. "Oh, baby-girl! You said yes, of course?"

"Of course I said yes! I've never felt so…" Riley paused, biting his glossy lip thoughtfully. "So right. Like I'm finally getting to be close to him the way I've always wanted. And now that I'm his girlfriend, I can learn even more. Not just how to make Chase feel good, but, like… how to get women to like me, too. I mean, that's what you said, right? I'd become a better man if I could just—"

Isabelle raised a perfectly manicured hand. "Sweetheart, stop right there."

Riley blinked, then sat obediently on one of the counter stools.

"You're not just a girlfriend now. You're his girlfriend. And that means you're in a new phase."

Riley leaned forward, eyes big and eager, pink-polished nails tapping lightly against the marble as he listened.

"It's important now that you never, ever refer to yourself as a man," Isabelle said smoothly. "You're not a boy. You're not a guy. And there’s certainly no more 'he' or 'him.' Not from you, not from anyone. Chase is the man. He's your man. And your job is to support him—not compete. Otherwise you'll be making him look bad, making him feel bad."

Riley nodded quickly. "That makes total sense. I want him to feel like the man, you know?"

"Exactly," Isabelle said, reaching out to cup his chin affectionately. "You're so smart, princess. So willing. I'm so proud of my little girlfriend."

He beamed, preening a little. "I believe you mean Chase's little girlfriend. I want to be the best for him. I really do."

"Well, then it's time to turn up the heat on those practice videos," Isabelle said, picking up her coffee again. "You're doing great with the kissing. And the meditation." Her eyes twinkled. "But let's expand. Think about using your whole body. Let your audience help you, let them guide you. Ask for tips. Feedback. Practice different techniques. A lot of your audience is men. What are their needs? Even the ones who are women? How do they take care of their men? If you want to understand Chase's needs, you have to try everything. Explore what makes him feel good. Elevate him."

Riley practically bounced out of his seat. "Oh my God, you're right! You're so right. I can do that today. I have some costumes I haven't tried yet—and I've been thinking about maybe a lifeguard look? Or a nurse? Something he'd like. I'll post a poll. If I don't have what they want, I can order more."

"Good girl," Isabelle grinned. "And it wouldn't hurt for you to create some special content just for Chase every once and a while. Now that you two are so close, might as well remind him of what he's getting out of the deal."

"I'll get started right now!" Riley leaned in to kiss her cheek—something he had started doing without even thinking about it—and then dashed off, his short shorts riding high as he sprinted for his room, already muttering ideas under his breath.

The house fell quiet again.

Isabelle sipped her coffee slowly, smiling faintly to herself as she turned her attention back to the laptop. One tab held Riley's social analytics, indicating the incredible engagement every one of his platforms was having. If he kept this up, he would soon be the most popular and successful online presence in the world. Another tab displayed a private server with her most recent subliminal audio sessions, complete with metadata tracking compliance spikes.

She tapped her nails once against the side of her cup.

He was ready to take the next step.

The question now was… how best to guide him?

Isabelle sat back, thoughts already drifting toward her next set of subliminals. What should they suggest? What little seeds should she plant in Riley's fertile, open little mind?

She smiled to herself.

She'd think of something.