It was a normal Wednesday for Lindsey, and she was standing in line at the coffee shop on the way to work at the office. The line was long as it often was, and Lindsey was growing impatient with it. There were way too many weirdos in this city for her comfort. One was walking up behind her now, a girl in her mid-20s—about her age—with blue-dyed hair cut in a sideshave. Probably had pronouns, too, Lindsey chuckled to herself. Just another woke freak she had to deal with in this day and age. It was like a disease. Hopefully someone would find a cure soon, and then the world could go back to how it ought to be.

“Hey, I like your sweater,” the blue-haired woman said. Oh, god help Lindsey, this “girl”’s voice sounded sort of unfeminine — deepness that Lindsey knew real women didn’t ever have. She… he must have been one of those transgenders that Lindsey kept hearing about on her favorite podcasts. She had never seen one in person before, but she was already severely off-put. Complimenting Lindsey’s favorite pink cardigan… What was this guy, gay? Well, yeah, of course. Everyone knew that so-called transgenders were basically just like a kind of super-gay.

“Leave me alone, dude,” Lindsey said, turning back toward the counter dismissively. That’d show him. She just hoped this guy wouldn’t stick around. There were still like three people between her and the front of the line.

“Oh, actually, I’m not a dude,” the blue-haired man said. “I’m a woman.”

Lindsey stepped back toward him, flipping her straight, dark brown hair dramatically. “Can you stop making a scene, and keep the woke mind virus out of this coffee shop?” God, he was making a scene just by being here in public like this. A dude in makeup, wearing a colorful women’s dress shirt and women’s jeans and women’s jewelry and women's heeled boots? Not in Lindsey’s city, if she could help it! And everyone was looking at the both of them now. This was all his fault.

The guy rolled his eyes. “I just thought your sweater was cute. I’m here to get coffee, same as you,” he said dismissively, taking out his phone and looking away from Lindsey.

“Well, just stop being so woke about it,” Lindsey said finally, taking in a deep breath.

The guy looked up from his phone. His eyes were almost pretty, but Lindsey tried to distract herself looking at the rest of his mannish face.

“Yeah? I’m ‘woke’?” he asked. “What does that even mean?” He put his hand on his hips. Almost womanly hips, Lindsey thought, but no, those were a man’s hips, she reminded herself.

“Well, you have blue hair and you’re just standing around existing like that in a public place? Pretending to be a woman? Like some kind of fucking queer,” Lindsey explained. “That’s woke.”

The man snorted with laughter. “But what do you actually mean by ‘woke’? Define it for me.”

“Well, it’s when people like you try and convince everyone that acting like that is OK. Just prancing around in public society instead of being normal,” Lindsey said.

“Right,” the man said. “It’s when you’re queer. Or maybe when you’re trans like me, particularly.”

“No, no, it’s much more than that,” Lindsey said. “You’ve been too brainwashed by the woke mind virus to get it, though, that much is clear.”

“Brainwashed?” the man said, giggling in a way that Lindsey wanted to deny sounded feminine. “You’re really going to tell me I’m brainwashed, or causing a scene? Here, come on, sit down with me, let’s get out of these people’s way.” He stepped out of line, and the whole coffee shop stopped paying attention to him and Lindsey after a few seconds. God, how embarrassing, Lindsey thought. She had been tricked into this by this guy’s stupid woke vibes, but she guessed she had no choice but to see it through now, or else make an even bigger fool of herself in front of this woke wokester, even though she’d miss her coffee.

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” Lindsey said, following the man over to a table in the corner. He seemed so confident in himself as he set his super-cute purse down next to him on the bench.

“So what is it that you want? You gonna tell me your pronouns or something?” Lindsey asked.

“Yes, actually,” the man said. “My name’s Robin, and I use she/her pronouns. What about you?”

Lindsey could turn her nose up at that easily. This Robin guy had revealed just how foolish he really was. “I don’t have pronouns. I’m not woke like you.”

“Really? Somehow I find that hard to believe,” Robin said. “You don’t like being called she or him or something, when people talk about you? They, it, fae, xe, or something else altogether?”

Lindsey wasn’t playing this dude’s mind games. She wasn’t going to be tricked so easily. “People call me she, because I’m a woman. That doesn’t mean I have pronouns.”

Robin let out a long sigh. “That’s fine, I guess—”

Lindsey interrupted him. “Look, what do you want? And what’s your real name?”

Robin frowned. “My real name is Robin. It’s on my driver’s license and my passport, so there’s not much point in asking. Do you go around asking married cis women what their real last names are?”

“I—I—” Lindsey had never felt so lost for words.

“But as for what I want? I just want to talk to you,” Robin said matter-of-factly. “Normally I’d just brush off an asshole like you and get on with my day, but you’re kinda cute, I guess. Also, it’s pretty rare to see a girl like you, a girl my age, especially, being so fuckin’ into this kind of bullshit. Like, where do you even get this anti-woke stuff from? Some MyTube guy?”

He sighed, kind of a cute sigh, Lindsey supposed. “I guess… I guess I’ve got it in my head that I can fix you. And that’s pretty frankly a stupid way to think, usually, but maybe you’ll prove me wrong? Like, you could at least stop looking at me like I’m some kind of alien. How would you feel if I looked at you that way because you’re, I don’t know, a woman?”

“That would just be regular old sexism,” Lindsey said smugly. “But you woke feminists want to get rid of real women like me, and convince the whole world that fake women like you are more important.”

“Both of us are real women,” Robin said, fidgeting around a little. “But look… we’re really not gonna get anywhere with this in this busy fuckin’ coffee shop, are we? Uh, my apartment’s right next door. I’ll take you there.”

“Why would I go to your apartment? Why would you even show me kindness like this?” Lindsey shouted. She had to know. She was not supposed to be friends with this… this… woman? No way. S…he wasn’t a real woman. But as Robin stood up and swayed her, no, his hips as he did, Lindsey felt herself doubting that somehow.

“Because I think you can be better than this,” Robin said. “And I think, deep down, you know that.”

“I’m normal!” Lindsey insisted. “You’re the one who can be better! Stop pretending to be a woman! Stop being so woke!”

Robin shook her, no, his head. “You’re acting like a child. Someone ought to teach you how to be better.”

“Oh, I see! I get it!” Lindsey shouted. “You want me to follow you back to your apartment so you can indoctrinate me into your woke liberal ideology! Well, I’ll tell you, I went four years in college and never fell for any of that!”

“Then I’m sure you won’t fall for anything I’ll tell you either,” Robin said teasingly.

“I have to go to work. You won’t waste my time with this,” Lindsey said.

“Then you’ll never be able to prove my woke lies wrong.”

Lindsey looked at the counter. Since stepping out of the line, she was running so far behind schedule. It’d be another 20 plus minutes until she’d be able to get a coffee. She’d keep this quick with Robin and still make it to work on time instead of picking up her coffee. Lindsey knew how to stick to a time table.

Besides, she really needed to be right here. So she gathered up her things and followed Robin right out the door.

“So, what’s your name?” Robin asked without hesitating as Lindsey stepped out the door of the coffee shop behind h…him into the warm summer air.

“Lindsey,” she answered reluctantly.

“That’s a pretty name,” Robin replied. What? This guy couldn’t just say shit like that! That was so gay!

…Wait. Lindsey thought that over again. Obviously Robin was some woke wokester, hitting on Lindsey like this one way or another, but was that really gay? Robin was a guy… but that would mean it was straight if s…he hit on her. Obviously a woke queer like this wasn’t going to be Mr. Right, but it was still straight… it just seemed so gay! What could it mean?

Robin walked up to the entrance of an apartment building. S…he really did live close by the coffee shop, Lindsey realized. The two of them walked up a few flights of stairs to apartment 3E. It turned out to be a one-bedroom apartment with a cramped living room, and objects strewn around the floor. Not the nicest Lindsey had ever seen, and the architecture was a bit dated, but it was certainly livable.

Oh. And then there was a rainbow flag hanging over the window, serving as a makeshift curtain. And next to it was one of those light blue, pink, and white flags that Lindsey kept seeing around on TV and social media. Something even more woke than the gays — bisexuals, maybe? Or it could just have been for the transgenders, like Robin. There would be a certain twisted logic to that.

“Right, so this is what a woke apartment looks like,” Lindsey said, looking around. “It’s more normal than I thought.”

“Yeah, shocking, right?” Robin said sarcastically.

“So what the hell did you bring me here for, anyway?” Lindsey asked. “It’s just an apartment.”

“I brought you here because we’ll have better privacy here than in the coffee shop,” Robin said, walking up close in front of Lindsey. The blue-haired, pronouned transgender was at least half a foot taller than Lindsey, which made her feel pretty small, vulnerable almost.

“This way,” Robin continued. “No one will be here to interrupt us while I turn you woke.”

Lindsey scoffed, feeling a little nervous. “What, you’re serious about that? I’m dug in on my beliefs, dude! You can’t just turn me woke over the course of a few minutes!”

Robin laughed a distinctly girly-sounding laugh. “Dug in? You’re such a parody of yourself, my god!

“You won’t be so dug in when I’m done with you.” S…he adopted a sort of sinister-looking smile on h…his face. Lindsey felt herself blushing for some…some reason. That felt so wrong.

“I mean, look at you, blushing at that!” Robin said teasingly. “How pathetic! Most transphobes are just assholes, but maybe what straight people like to say is true in a rare few cases… maybe you’re just in denial about your sexuality, sweetheart.”

Sweet… heart? Lindsey felt her heart beating out of her chest. She didn’t know how to respond to this assault on her very identity. How absurd! Her knees felt weak, and her skin was heating up. This wasn’t normal to feel around the transgenders, right? Or was this… this person so woke that it was making her sick?

“Now let me make something clear,” Robin said. “I’m so woke that I’m not going to threaten to do anything to you that you don’t want me to do. So I’m going to ask you now, are you OK with me doing everything in my power to turn you woke?”

“You won’t succeed in turning me woke,” Lindsey insisted.

“Oh, but can I try?” Robin said teasingly, leaning over toward the more rational and level-headed woman. The only woman in the room, Lindsey reminded herself.

“Oh, sure, wokeify me however you like! It’s not gonna work!” Lindsey said, balling her fists.

“‘Wokeify’. That sounds so silly. I like it,” Robin said sort of condescendingly. Lindsey would not stand for being treated like this. “And you really mean it? I can do whatever I like to… to wokeify you?”

“You can certainly try, but I’m a psychological conservative. I—”

“A psychological conservative?” Robin burst out laughing. “What even is that?”

“Oh, you wokes think you’re so smart,” Lindsey said. “Always asking what I mean by something or other when the meaning is manifestly obvious. I’m a psychological conservative because I use my mind. It’s logic and rationality that have led me to—”

“Your mind, huh?” Robin asked. “Hm, I’ve got a few things to say about your mind. Get over here.” S…he grabbed Lindsey’s arms and pulled her over toward the apartment’s couch.

“What are you doing?” Lindsey shouted. She wasn’t used to being dragged around like this, especially not by some leftist transgender.

“Sit down here,” Robin said, pointing at the couch. “Hey, you said I could do whatever I wanted, right?” S…he stared at Lindsey expectantly.

“I guess?” Lindsey said, taking a seat in spite of her confusion. This was all moving so quickly.

“Good. Well, if it’s ever too much for you, you can always say so, alright? I’m going to reiterate: I’m too woke to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But don’t worry — soon, you’ll be even woker than I am,” Robin said, chuckling.

“Yeah, right,” Lindsey said. The way Robin was looking over though, and taking off… his… own necklace now was kind of intimidating, though. The psychological conservative felt like she was in way over her head right now, and was confused about how any of this was supposed to turn her woke. Mostly, she was just trying to keep a cool head.

“I’m serious. I’m gonna turn you into the wokest leftist snowflake you can imagine,” Robin said. “You’re going to respect queer people, tell people your pronouns… shit, I’ll make you want to dye your hair like me. Maybe not blue, we’d figure out what speaks to you. And you know what else? I’m going to make sure you check your privilege, everywhere you go.”

“Y-you won’t succeed at any of that!” Lindsey protested.

“Oh, but I totally will! You want to know why? Because I think you really do want this, or else we wouldn’t have made it this far. I think that maybe you saw me at the coffee shop, and I was the wokest trans girl you’d ever seen, and you realized that I’m a regular fuckin’ person just like you! And it forced you to call your entire worldview into question, didn’t it?” Robin was smiling at Lindsey smugly, leaning over her again, her, no, his, yes, his—he was a man, after all, with a Y chromosome and everything—his necklace held in one hand. Lindsey was really starting to wonder if she should’ve agreed to this, but like she had said before, she was way too dug in to back down now.

“Well… well…” Lindsey said, struggling for words. “I… well, I question everything! Otherwise I wouldn’t be a serious psychological conservative.”

Robin giggled. “You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to turn you into a psychological woke leftist. The arguments for, uh, wokeism are so much more intellectually sound, you’re going to find.”

“That’s just silly. Everyone knows that leftoids like you don’t even care about the facts, only your own stupid feelings,” Lindsey said.

“I think you’ll think differently, very soon,” Robin said.

“Are we just going to argue like this all day?” Lindsey asked. Getting involved in all this, Lindsey was barely cognizant of the fact that she was going to be terribly late for work at this point. But by now, she didn’t really care. Settling the score with this transgender would be more than worth it.

“Of course not. Let me be perfectly honest about how I’m going to wokeify you, sweetheart,” Robin said.

Lindsey found herself blushing again. Sweetheart? Lindsey couldn’t be sweetheart! She was a hardline, dug-in psychological conservative! Nobody could find her sweet! Nobody except Mr. Right, who she would hold out hope of finding one day.

“Wow, you really like being called that, huh, sweetheart? See, the thing about straight girls is that they don’t react that way when I call them that! Someone’s in some serious denial about her own desires…” Robin giggled again, and Lindsey groaned in frustration. Never had she been more humiliated! Being called “sweetheart” by this woke leftist transgender was not going to cause her to feel things that she hadn’t felt since her first date with a boy in her junior year of high school! That was absolutely outrageous!

It was so… woke, Lindsey realized. Were Robin’s supposed wokeification tactics already working?

“But I digress,” Robin said. “The way I’m gonna wokeify you is by hypnotizing you. I’m gonna put you into a nice, deep trance and make you realize that you’re the woke queer girlie you always denied you were inside!”

“B-but that’s ludicrous!” Lindsey said. “I think I’ve heard that hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, right? I’ve seen it on TV before!”

“That’s exactly my point, silly girl,” Robin shook her…his head. “I can tell just how badly you want to be a woke leftist lezzie like me. I’m just gonna bring that forth from your subconscious.” Oh god, Lindsey thought, a silly girl? That was her? But that was so… silly! And yet there was something that really appealed to her about being called that, especially coming from Robin. Was she already being hypnotized? Was she woke now?

“But… I like guys… too?” Lindsey gripped her forehead. This was all too much for her. She didn’t like women, right? That would be so woke! She was going to meet Mr. Right, marry him, and have two to three children with him in a suburban single-family home! That was what the wokes had been trying to distract her from all her life, but she wasn’t so easily tricked, right?

“Oh, my apologies, sweetheart,” Robin said, taking on a genuinely apologetic tone. “You’ll be a woke leftist bi girl. How about that?”

“I’m straight, but whatever, fine!” Lindsey said through gritted teeth. “How is hypnosis something you can even do? What are you, like, a magician?”

“Oh, me? No, I’m a programmer,” Robin replied nonchalantly. “I do hypnosis for sex. It’s hot to me when I put my girlfriend under to make her nice and suggestible, with her consent, of course.”

Alarm bells were going off in Lindsey’s head. This was way too weird. But she had to see this through now, right? She was falling right into Robin’s stupid woke booby trap. Booby trap? Oh, fuck, now she was looking at the transgender’s tits, which were pretty big and visible through the tight fit of h…her shirt. God, she had to stop herself, she was blushing so hard, this was outrageous.

“So you’re cheating on your girlfriend with me? I should have fucking known you’d be a deviant pervert like that,” Lindsey said.

“That’s what’s making you think I’m a deviant pervert? I thought you’d be more weirded out by the hypnosis kink BDSM stuff, frankly,” Robin said. “But nah. We’re polyamorous. Later today, I’m gonna tell her all about what you and I did together. I think she’s gonna find it fuckin’ hilarious.

“Unless you’re still here when she gets home, of course. In that case, you’d be able to tell her yourself.” Robin had a wide smile on her face.

“I… I…” Lindsey had no idea what to say here. There was so much wrong with this situation. Robin had a girlfriend? Wasn’t s…she supposed to be some kind of super-gay? Then wouldn’t she be dating a man? But what if her girlfriend was a transgender too? How would that even be classified? It went against everything Lindsey had been taught!

“Quiet, sweetheart,” Robin said softly, putting one finger up to Lindsey’s lips. “Let’s get started.”

Sitting beside Lindsey, Robin held her necklace up high with the fingers of her right hand, letting the pendant at the end dangle just above Lindsey’s eye level. It was a pretty necklace, Lindsey guessed — it had already caught her eye when she had first seen it at the coffee shop. The pendant had a purple gemstone embedded in it, which caught the light from the apartment’s window in a striking and dazzling way.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Robin said. “Just look at the pretty necklace for me, alright? It’s hard to imagine anything more captivating, isn’t it? I did pick out this particular necklace for that exact purpose, after all. My girlfriend helped me pick, in fact.”

Robin was looking straight at Lindsey and smiling, but Lindsey was barely aware of that, what with being totally captivated by the slight swaying and turning of the pendant, and the way that the light flickered off of it. This was a completely silly and cliche thing to be happening! Lindsey was totally cognizant of that, but maybe that was part of why this was working so well on her… That just made her head hurt more, and made her want to tune it out by looking at the necklace and paying attention to the sound of Robin’s voice.

“Gosh, you take well to this, huh, sweetheart?” Robin said. “You’re so susceptible. Maybe as much as my girlfriend is, and I’ve had time to break her down and learn all her little weaknesses… you like staring at the pendant, huh? Look at it twirl and shine and catch the light. Such a good girl.”

A… a good girl? Robin thought Lindsey was good? That was so wild! Lindsey was having a great time looking at the pretty pendant swing and spin and listening to Robin’s voice, which she was realizing wasn’t actually nearly as masculine sounding as she had thought, even if it was a little deeper than the average woman’s voice, but it was so pretty and her voice was saying such sweet things to her…

This was how Robin was going to turn her woke, huh? Lindsey felt like she could already feel the wokeness coursing through her, maybe. That’s probably why Robin’s voice felt so nice to listen to right now—her hypnotic technique was somehow turning Lindsey woke. She didn’t need to try to analyze the specifics of this too heavily right now, though. It felt better to keep staring and listening to what the transgender had to say.

“This really is a good fixation, isn’t it? Looking at it makes it so hard to focus on everything else, it’s so distracting. You can barely even make out the individual words I’m saying while you’re looking at the pendant. They don’t matter to you, sweetheart.” Even as Robin was right about Lindsey barely understanding any of her individual words, Lindsey blushed again at being called sweetheart.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing again! Fuck, you’re so silly and pathetic… You’re falling for a silly induction like this so easily, sweetheart. Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, god, I bet you can barely handle that, huh… so adorable. Feeling so relaxed like this, sweetheart. It’s so relaxing to keep staring at the pendant and listening to my voice. So relaxing that you feel like it might be hard to keep your eyes open, sweetheart.”

Oh, oh wow. Lindsey wasn’t sure why—she could barely bring herself to think about anything at all at the moment, other than the lovely pendant dangling in front of her—but she was suddenly feeling so tired, like her eyes could just close at any moment. Was Robin telling Lindsey that “she was getting sleepy”, cliche hypnotist style? There was no way for her to know, but that would be silly… almost as silly as staring at this pendant and blushing and her pussy getting a little wet, what with how pretty the girl holding the pendant was…

“Oh, your eyelids are fluttering,” Robin said, not that Lindsey paid her any mind. “That’s so cute. I’m going to help you down now, alright, sweetheart?” Lindsey didn’t know why, but she let out a little moan, feeling especially nice at the moment.

“Five, feeling so, so relaxed, just staring at the pendant and listening to the sound of my voice.

“Four, even though the pendant has held your attention so completely, you’re even having trouble focusing on it now, feeling so, so, calm, sweetheart.

“Three, you could fall asleep at any moment, even at the snap of my fingers.

“Two, so close to dropping into trance for me, sweetheart.

“One, just barely conscious, hanging on by a thread that could break at the slightest provocation.

“Zero. Drop deep for me, now.”

Robin snapped her fingers between Lindsey’s face and the pendant, and Lindsey suddenly, seemingly without warning, fell herself falling, falling… so fucking relaxed and deep in it, and she was pretty sure she was lying sideways on the couch now, maybe even in Robin’s lap, but she didn’t care. She was far beyond having a single care in the world, now.

“Right in my lap, that is so cute!” Robin said. “Alright, you’re so deep in trance now, so suggestible… you’d believe anything I say, and do anything I told you to do, as long as it doesn’t make you seriously upset, of course. I want you to sit back up for me, and open your eyes, still so relaxed and totally entranced for me. And you’ll find it so easy to answer my questions honestly, alright?”

“Yes, Master,” Lindsey barely felt herself saying as she rose back up to a sitting position. She opened her eyes, but she still saw nothing, sensing only the sound of Robin’s voice.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that all of your knowledge of hypnosis comes from cheesy children’s cartoons. Call me ‘Mistress’, sweetie. It’s much more fitting,” Robin said.

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey said, looking straight ahead blankly. She didn’t even see Robin, or really understand what she was responding to consciously, but it all felt so right. Mistress was what Robin ought to be called, probably. It made sense.

“Good girl,” Robin said. “You’re doing such a great job turning woke so far, and we’ve barely even started.” She patted Lindsey on the head, making her feel so much happiness and warmth that she felt like she was going to explode. Lindsey was woke now! That was so stupid, but she felt so firmly in Robin’s power that she didn’t even think to question it.

“But you can get much more woke than that, sweetheart,” Robin continued. “And you’re feeling yourself getting woker by the second, aren’t you?” She giggled.

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey said, feeling so, so relaxed, like she could just let all of her worries fly away.

“Tell me, sweetheart, why are you so dug in on being a ‘psychological conservative’?” Robin asked.

Lindsey furrowed her brow for a moment. She didn’t know it, but her real reasons for her beliefs were something that she had buried pretty deep in her psyche, and it was a little difficult for her to explain coherently, even guided by Robin, who was feeling very easy to listen to and be honest with at the moment.

“Because… because I’m afraid of being seen as a weirdo,” Lindsey said with a flat affect. “I need to fit in. I need everyone to know I fit in, so that I don’t piss anyone off.”

“Hmm, right,” Robin said, concerned. “But aren’t you pissing some people off? Trans girls, like me? Other queer people? If I might take a guess, neurodivergent people, the disabled, people of color… does pissing off these people not matter to you?”

Lindsey’s subconscious mind had to consider that for a moment, too. “...They don’t deserve it. But admitting that would make people think that maybe I like girls or something too.”

Robin giggled. “So, sweetheart, what genders are you attracted to?”

“Men,” Lindsey responded automatically. Then after a moment had passed, and she had furrowed her brow, trying to fight off how good it felt to answer Robin honestly without thinking too hard about the implications right now, she finished, “and women too.”

“Oh, you like women, huh?” Robin said, feigning surprise. “What a shock!

“And you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” she continued.

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey said, gasping even as she was in trance.

“Oh, settle down, sweetheart, it’s not all that shocking to me,” Robin said. “Sometimes a girl just needs to get wokeified to realize how she really feels. So tell me then, if you think I’m pretty, why all the hate back at the coffee shop?”

Lindsey took a moment to think again. “Because if I’m attracted to you of all people, a woke transgender—”

“Shh!” Robin shushed her, cutting her off with a finger up to her lips. “Remember, you’re becoming woke now. You need to learn to use the terminology that people use for themselves. ‘Transgender’ isn’t a noun, sweetheart, it’s an adjective. I am transgender, or I’m a trans woman. Do you understand?”

“...Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl,” Robin said. “Now continue, with the politically correct language this time.”

“If I’m attracted to you, a woke trans woman, then I don’t know what to make of it. It can’t be normal. I can’t be a normal girl any more,” Lindsey finished.

“Of course. It would mean you’re woke too,” Robin said. “See, I barely even needed to do anything. You were already turning yourself woke.”

Lindsey’s eyes widened at the life-altering realization. “Yes, Mistress. I’m woke.”

“You are!” Robin said. “You have pronouns, even — you did all along. What are they?”

Lindsey gritted her teeth as she struggled to comprehend this for a moment. “T… they?”

Robin did a double take. “Oh, uh, OK. Not the answer I expected, but, I mean, hell yeah!”

“...and them,” Lindsey continued.

“God, that’s so woke of you! Cis people don’t even use pronouns like that, usually,’ Robin said. “You’re even woker than I was expecting you to be.”

“...What is cis?” Lindsey asked.

“Oh, it’s when someone is happy with the gender they were assigned at birth,” Robin said. “It’s the woke way of saying that someone isn’t trans. I’m gonna make it a big part of your vocabulary, sweetheart.”

“Then I’m not cis,” Lindsey said.

Robin paused for a second. “You’re, uh, sure about all this? Not the best question for someone who just came out to me, but, uh, you’re in a pretty vulnerable state right now, and I wasn’t really intending for, like, identity play to be on the table without asking—”

“I’m sure I’m not cis,” Lindsey said. “I’m not a… normal girl.” They had never felt relaxed and at ease enough to say such things before. The thought had always encroached on their mind intrusively on the rare occasions when they saw or heard about trans people, but they had never let themself think about it. It was so wrong — Lindsey could never be woke. Not being woke was like, their main thing.

“...I think I’m a girl, but not a normal one,” they concluded.

“Oh, wow,” Robin said. “That’s so exciting. You’re such a special snowflake, you know that? You’re your whole own kind of girl.”

A slight frown appeared on Lindsey’s otherwise-blank face. “What does that make me, then? What even is a not-normal girl?”

“Well, that’s just labels,” Robin said matter-of-factly. “You can figure that out at a later time when you’re not actively being wokeified, alright?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey said as a large, blank smile spread across their face.

“Wow, accepting the idea of labeling yourself just like that…you’re such a silly fucking brainwashed leftoid. I’m literally brainwashing you as we speak,” Robin said. “But I think you’re finding that sometimes people like you need a little brainwashing to become good girls.”

She paused for a moment. “...Good girl. Is that alright to call you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey responded, blushing again. “I love it. It makes me feel something I’ve never felt before.”

“That’s good to hear,” Robin said. “I like how flustered you get when I do practically anything to you. Did you know that submission like yours turns me on, a lot?”

“I… I…” Lindsey struggled for words, even in their entranced state. “Is this sex?”

“Sure it is,” Robin said. “It’s an elaborate kind of foreplay, at least. I mean, it’s making you horny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey said.

“Then, and be honest with me, sweetheart, do you want me to fuck you?”

Lindsey blushed harder than they had all morning. “Yes, Mistress.”

“That’s exciting,” Robin said. “Then when I snap my fingers, I want you to wake up, remembering everything that happened while you were in trance, alright?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl,” Robin snapped her fingers in front of Lindsey’s face. “Wake up!”

Lindsey came to full awareness with a start. What had happened…? Oh, that had happened. Robin made a fool of Lindsey and turned her woke? That was so fucked up, and she wasn’t going to fall for these woke mind tricks! Have sex with Robin, a transgender? What a joke! Lindsey’s face felt hot again, and she didn’t know why.

“God, you’re so cute like this,” Robin said. “Look at you, blushing as you realize what you said. So silly!”

“Y-you!” Lindsey said, standing and pointing her finger at Robin. “How dare you make me say shit like that? I don’t believe any of those woke lies you made me repeat! You failed to wokeify me!”

“Oh, did I?” Robin teased. “Didn’t you tell me that hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do? It’s true, you know. Every word you said came from you. I just made it a little easier for you.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous!” Lindsey said. “You said you were going to turn me woke, and clearly that’s what you were trying to do! Manipulating my mind with cheap psychological tricks… That is fucked up! Really exemplifies the woke mind virus you’ve got in your head, you fuckin’ tran—”

“You’re woke now, sweetheart,” Robin said, giving Lindsey a knowing smile. “Say the politically correct thing.”

“Tran—Trans— You’re a trans woman!” Lindsey said, struggling to catch their breath. Her breath. Calling herself “they”? That would be so fucking woke, capitulating to Robin’s woke bullshit. Was she really catching the woke mind virus just from proximity? “They” was for groups, never individuals. Just like Lindsey had been taught in school.

“Good girl!” Robin said. “You’re learning so quickly.”

Lindsey felt her face heating up again. “Why do you act so condescending? You’re just a fucking woke elite. You aren’t better than me!”

“Because it’s cute how you react when I condescend to you, sweetheart,” Robin said.

“Why do you think I’m cute?” Lindsey shouted. “I just treat you like shit because you’re a freak!”

Robin had a smug smile on her face again. “You don’t really believe that. I turned you woke, after all. You’re woke now, don’t you realize? You even used the proper terminology for me, after a little prodding.”

“Well, don’t expect it from me again, you tran—”

Robin raised her eyebrow.

“You… you… trans woman,” Lindsey sighed, falling to her knees.

“Oh, kneeling for me, huh? That’s cute,” Robin said, looking down at Lindsey with a hand below her own chin.

“I’m not kneeling for you!” Lindsey said, her face feeling as warm as ever. “I just feel fucking, weak and fucked up right now! Probably because of the fucked up stuff you did to my head, infecting it with the woke mind virus!”

“Sweetheart, there is no woke mind virus,” Robin said, squatting in front of Lindsey and putting her hand on her cheek. “There’s just a confused not-normal girl who’s gotten themself into some bad ideology and is scared that they’re losing themself when they actually have to defend their non-functional belief system in public.”

“Well, that ‘not-normal girl’ is certainly not me!” Lindsey insisted, batting Robin’s hand away.

“It’s what you called yourself, sweetheart,” Robin said. “I mean, you do have pronouns, after all, don’t you? Why don’t you tell me what they are?”

“They are—” Lindsey scrunched th—her face, keeping herself steady as best she could. Lindsey was a woman. Women were called she. It was basic grammar! She didn’t need pronouns! What an outrageous concept, to disregard hundreds of years of language development, just for the sake of some blue-haired special snowflake woke trans woman!

“They!” Lindsey shouted through gritted teeth. “And them…”

“Good girl,” Robin said. “It feels so good to be honest with yourself, doesn’t it?”

No, no, no! It felt bad! Being called a good girl felt good, it did, oh god it did, but accepting this, oh fuck, it had so many implications. Lindsey wasn’t a normal girl any more… maybe they never were. Oh god, how would anyone look at them now? They had gone woke! They were the in the same general category of person as a trans woman like Robin! That had so many implications. If that was the case, if Lindsey really was a not-normal girl…

In that case, Lindsey thought, they might as well fuck Robin like they had agreed to. Then… then… they’d just be a couple of queer women having sex together.

That seemed pretty gay to Lindsey. It, it was, right? Gay? That’s what it was when a non-normal girl and a trans woman had sex together?

“I… do you still want to have sex with me? Even though I’m so shitty at being woke?” Lindsey said, tears welling up in their eyes as they stared at the wood floor beneath them.

“Pff, sure,” Robin said. “Like I keep telling you, I think you’re cute. And I mean, I’m the one who offered in the first place.”

“You’re just a fucking pervert! Wanting to hypnotize people for sex…” Lindsey said, blushing, struggling for something, something to convince themself that this wasn’t really happening. But Robin was already unbuttoning her women’s dress shirt, revealing the women’s bra she was wearing underneath, and the realization set in that they were really going to have sex with a real life trans woman… wait, were they?

“Also, your tits are huge, what the hell? How can they be even bigger than mine? Did you get implants? You eat a lot of tofu? Are you some kind of soyb… uh, I mean, soywoman? Is that what you are?”

Robin laughed. “I grew them myself, sweetheart. You like them?” She grabbed at her tits, squeezing them together in a display that had Lindsey’s head spinning.

“But you were born a m-m—” Lindsey cut themself off as Robin unhooked her bra and threw it to the floor, revealing just how big and bouncy her tits really were.

“Oh wow, you really do like them, don’t you?” Robin unzipped her pants and put her hands on Lindsey’s shoulders, smiling at them deviously. “You can go ahead and touch them, if you feel like it.”

Lindsey’s eyes were wide, huge, as they reached for Robin’s tits and touched them gingerly, reacting with surprise to their soft texture and large nipples.

“How can you have these? Seriously!” Lindsey asked with amazement.

“Fuckin’ hell, I guess I have to explain this to you if I’m turning you woohhhhke…” Robin moaned as Lindsey slid their hand over her nipple. “I take hormones, silly girl! 8 milligrams of estrogen a day, plus a testosterone blocker!”

“You can just take some pills and grow tits? Even if you’re a ma—”

“Not a man. And I never was,” Robin said, cutting Lindsey off again. “I’ve always been a girl, even if people couldn’t tell. Woke girls know that.”

“Yes, m-m-ma’am,” Lindsey said.

“You can say ‘yes, Mistress’ if it feels right, sweetheart,” Robin said. “I like it.”

Lindsey’s face felt hot again as they said “yes, Mistress”.

“Good girl! Such a ridiculous leftist snowflake,” Robin said. “Estrogen works for the same reason tofu does, except that tofu doesn’t actually do that, because it only has plant estrogen in it, not the same kind that people need.”

More woke lies, Lindsey thought to themself initially. But then their mind turned to how many woke lies they were already being convinced were true, and they hesitated to actually say it.

“Here, why don’t you get your clothes off?” Robin asked. “I might even give you another look at my pretty pendant if you do. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Fuck, it did sound nice to Lindsey. Before today, they had only ever thought of hypnosis as being the domain of some cheesy stage performer, or of psychiatrists. But after Robin had done all that and spoken to Lindsey in her pretty voice and made all of this woke bullshit spill out of them, somehow, someway, they weren’t so sure any more. Even if Robin said she only did this stuff for sex, it sure seemed like magic to Lindsey.

“Yes,” Lindsey barely whispered, feeling awfully timid as Robin leaned over them with her topless chest.

“Yes, what?” Robin said, leaning in even closer. “You should address me properly.”

Lindsey covered their face with their hands in embarrassment. “Yes, Mistress.” Sexually dominated by a trans woman? This was every psychological conservative’s worst nightmare. How could they show their face in public after being so thoroughly wokeified?

“Then do it, sweetheart. Get your clothes off,” Robin said.

“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey repeated, not exactly more confident now, but resigned. They had really crossed the Rubicon now. Shit, even in their head, Lindsey was thinking of themself as “they”. Had Robin really made it feel this good? Had Lindsey been that thoroughly brainwashed with so little effort and after so little time? They couldn’t wrap their head around it. So they just stood, took off their cardigan, unzipped the pink knee-length dress they were wearing, pulled off their shoes, unhooked their bra, and pulled down their panties.

Meanwhile, Robin was taking her own pants off, revealing an ass and thighs that had Lindsey’s head spinning again. Was this the power of hormones, to turn… well, not men into women—Robin had never been a man, as she had brainwashed Lindsey into believing—but hormones could give a trans woman thighs like that? God, and those were thighs, too…

“Ooh, you like my thighs and ass, huh?” Robin said, turning around to face Lindsey. She had a penis hanging between her legs from her bare crotch, which seemed to be a little bit hard already, and to Lindsey’s surprise, that didn’t bother them at all. It was actually… pretty, somehow, and complemented Robin’s figure. Fucking hell, they had become so woke. Women with penises? What was next, cats with dogs’ heads?

“And you like my girlcock too, don’t you?” Robin said, walking back over to Lindsey and leaning over them again.

“What are you, a fucking mind reader?” Lindsey asked, their face feeling hot.

“I don’t exactly need to be,” Robin said. “You make it all too easy to tell what’s in your silly little woke head.”

“How are you making me so fucking woke?” Lindsey said. “I’m, fucking, ‘they’? That’s even more of a not-normal thing than you being a trans woman! How am I even going to walk down the street like this? Just being ‘they/them’? All day long? You turned me into a psychological leftist! That’s not OK!”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to be just fine,” Robin said sweetly. “I think you just need to relax.” She laid down on top of Lindsey’s chest, her head right between Lindsey’s smaller tits, and reached back awkwardly to take the pendant in hand, dangling it above Lindsey’s eye level once more. They couldn’t help but peer up at it as it spun and reflected the light.

“There you go,” Robin said. “So easy to remember how it felt the first time, isn’t it? You can already feel yourself dropping, I’m sure, so fucking easily.”

As much as Lindsey wanted to deny it, they knew immediately that Robin was right. They still had the sense-memory from just ten minutes ago, when Robin had done whatever magic she did to make Lindsey feel so thoroughly relaxed, and that relaxation was already returning as they stared, stared, stared…

They heard Robin snap her fingers again and were out like a light.

The next hour was a blur for Lindsey. They found it so easy to take things at Robin’s pace like this. They recalled Robin saying that after being fucked by a trans girl, Lindsey would fully complete their transformation into a psychological woke leftist not-normal girl, and with each thrust Robin’s beautiful girlcock made into Lindsey’s lovely pussy, they could feel it becoming true. Robin was doing unspeakable things to Lindsey’s head, things that they had somehow been convinced to agree to through Robin’s woke mind tricks, and they couldn’t believe how much they were enjoying it. Robin really knew how to push Lindsey’s buttons, giving them better sex than they had ever had with a man. It was like she really wanted Lindsey to have a good time… they never could have imagined that from a sexual partner.

And they were fucking a married woman! Well, not married, but even Lindsey’s entranced mind couldn’t stop thinking about how Robin was actually dating some other girl. This was just something that she was doing for fun, to tease Lindsey and turn them woke, doing some kind of service for them. Lindsey had never even heard the word polyamory—they had initially mistaken it for that thing that Mormons and ancient kings had used to do—but it hadn’t taken them much to convince them of the appeal. They were becoming so irresistibly, disgustingly, wonderfully woke, opening up to sexual identities that they never could have dreamed of.

Later, as Lindsey cleaned themself off in Robin’s shower, still hazy thanks to Robin’s not-magic, they remembered picking out magenta in a selection of colored boxes located below Robin’s bathroom sink, with her help. This would be the icing on the cake, Robin had said, making it so that no one on the street would ever mistake Lindsey for being anything but woke ever again, or at least for the next couple of months or so. And despite it being against everything Lindsey stood for, they found themself agreeing to all of it in real time, succumbing to the transgender she-devil’s wiles.

“Wake up,” Robin said, snapping her fingers, and Lindsey instantly snapped back to their senses.

They were looking in the mirror in Robin’s bathroom with Robin standing behind them, hands on their shoulders and smiling. And… and… oh, their hair was magenta in place of their natural brown. Like a really bright pinkish magenta. And they knew immediately that they had picked it out, with Robin’s help. Apparently she and her girlfriend liked to keep a lot of hair dyes on hand, and while Robin had had Lindsey all nice and hypnotized, she had gotten them to dye their entire hair, all the way down to their shoulders! And they were even mostly dry now, having washed the excess dye out in the shower, which was what you did as part of dyeing your hair, apparently.

And fuck, fuck… they looked so woke!

“Oh god, oh god… you made me do this, I…” Lindsey was lost for words.

“You know that isn’t true, sweetheart. You did it all yourself. You just needed the tiniest push to get through the worst of it,” Robin said, smiling at Lindsey in the mirror.

“You really turned me woke,” they said in awe. “I look like such a special snowflake… with pink hair and pronouns…”

“I told you I would. And to think you doubted I could do it…” Robin chided. “Goes to show that you shouldn’t underestimate a kinky trans woman. We’ve got a lot of tricks up our sleeves.”

“Never again,” Lindsey agreed. And they meant it.

Lindsey was way past making it to work today by now, so they ended up calling in sick. It was OK. The boss would understand. Lindsey had some really important stuff to think about, anyway. Robin had convinced them that they should spend more time outside talking to people like her instead of posting on social media, but since she knew they liked stuff online, she had set them up with some queer MyTubers who could maybe introduce Lindsey to what it actually meant to be queer or leftist or whatever, rather than Lindsey’s ridiculous preconceived notions of wokeness.

Robin had admitted that at the moment, it was hard for her to be around Lindsey. After all that they had realized they’d done, they couldn’t help but understand. It was still hard to see Robin as a person deserving of respect for them, too, but they’d try and be better. The sex was good, and Robin gave them her phone number, but she really wanted to make sure that Lindsey wouldn’t act like that again. They said they shouldn’t, and they agreed to meet up again on a weekend about a month from then. Lindsey would have time to think about who they really were by that time, and make interaction a considerably less exhausting experience for Robin. She wanted to be friends, really, but Lindsey would have to prove they were serious about that. It didn’t mean being queer, if Lindsey decided that they were the most cishet girl in the world in the end, but it did mean being a decent person in public.

They talked it over at the coffee shop before parting ways for the month. Despite the hypnosis and the mundane mindfuck of being forced to confront their prejudices, Lindsey was feeling more lucid than they maybe ever had. In the end, they and Robin were shaking hands before saying goodbye when Robin’s coffee order got called up. Lindsey waved to her one last time, turning to leave, when they heard something that made them cringe.

“Here’s your coffee, sir,” the lady at the counter said, handing Robin her coffee. Lindsey looked at themself, and at Robin, and decided to do something they never could have imagined.

“She’s ‘ma’am’, alright?” Lindsey said from a few feet away, staring straight at the lady behind the counter.

Fucking transphobes. Lindsey had no time for any of that, especially when they were targeting her friend. They were woke now.