As the evening wore on, Claire found herself unable to sit still. The rush of power she’d been feeling since Eric’s messages still buzzed in her veins, and the idea of testing her newfound influence in the real world seemed irresistible. The streets were quieter now, shadows creeping longer as the last traces of sunlight disappeared. It was the perfect time for a stroll—especially in this world where the rules had been flipped.
She grabbed her jacket and stepped outside, her sneakers thudding confidently against the pavement. There was an electric chill in the air, and as she turned the corner onto the main street, she noticed a few scattered figures moving through the dusk. Mostly men. Claire’s heart quickened in anticipation. The old Claire would have felt vulnerable walking alone at night, but not anymore. Now, she relished the opportunity to be the one making others feel that vulnerability.
Ahead of her, a man in a tight dress walked briskly, his hips swaying with every step. His short, shimmering skirt rode high on his thighs, revealing his smooth, toned legs. His long, auburn hair bounced as he glanced nervously over his shoulder. Claire smirked, slowing her pace to match his, staying just far enough behind to be noticeable but close enough to make him uncomfortable.
She could see the tension in his body as he realized he was being followed. His steps quickened, but so did Claire’s. She loved the way his back stiffened, the way he tugged self-consciously at the hem of his skirt. He glanced back again, this time with wide, anxious eyes. Claire met his gaze, her expression unreadable, her eyes gleaming in the dim streetlights.
The man turned away quickly, his steps now bordering on a half-jog, but Claire maintained her pace, her heavy footsteps echoing behind him. She could practically feel his fear, his discomfort, and it thrilled her. It was the same anxiety she had felt countless times in her old life, walking alone at night while men leered from the shadows. Now, the tables had turned.
Eventually, the man ducked into a side alley, and Claire decided to let him go, savoring the experience. She didn’t need to chase him further—just the look on his face had been enough. She continued down the street, her mind buzzing with excitement.
A little farther ahead, two more men were walking side by side, giggling and whispering to each other. They were dressed provocatively, one in a tight, low-cut top that barely contained his breasts, the other in shorts so tight they clung to his hips like a second skin. Claire slowed her steps again, positioning herself a few paces behind them, just close enough to listen in.
“Oh my god, did you see the way she looked at me today?” one of the men whispered, his voice high and playful. “I thought she was going to eat me alive.”
His friend giggled, adjusting his bra strap. “Girl, you’ve gotta be careful around her. She’s such a creep. Always staring.”
Claire smirked, staying silent as the men continued their conversation, oblivious to her presence at first. But soon, one of them noticed her lingering too close, and the carefree atmosphere shifted. The man on the left glanced over his shoulder, his smile fading. He nudged his friend.
“Hey, let’s, um… let’s cross the street.” he whispered, his voice tinged with unease.
The second man looked back at Claire, eyes wide with concern. “Yeah, good idea,” he mumbled, grabbing his friend’s hand as they quickly crossed the road. Claire watched them go, feeling a heady mix of satisfaction and amusement.
So this is how it feels, she thought, her heart racing. The thrill of making others squirm, the control, the dominance—it was addictive. She could sense their discomfort, the nervous glances over their shoulders, the way their voices wavered when they thought they were being watched. It was intoxicating in a way she had never imagined.
After a while, she found herself near a dimly lit bus stop where a lone man sat, waiting, his knees pressed together, arms wrapped protectively around his chest. He wore a loose, off-the-shoulder sweater, revealing the strap of his bra underneath, and his skirt was so short it barely covered his thighs. He seemed lost in thought, staring down at his phone, completely unaware of Claire’s approach.
She slowed her steps, deliberately making her presence known as her shoes clacked loudly on the pavement. The man looked up, his eyes wide as he spotted her. He quickly crossed his legs, tugging down his skirt in a futile attempt to cover more of his skin.
“Hey there.” Claire said, her voice low and steady, a subtle edge of menace in her tone. She watched as his face flushed pink, his eyes darting nervously between her and the empty street.
“H-hi.” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Claire took a step closer, leaning casually against the bus stop pole, her gaze lingering on him in a way that was impossible to mistake. His breathing quickened, and he fidgeted with the hem of his sweater, clearly unsure of what to do.
“Nice night, isn’t it?” she said, her eyes glinting as they trailed over his body, lingering on his exposed legs.
The man nodded quickly, his fingers trembling as they tugged at his sleeves. “Y-yeah… I guess…”
Claire smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made him visibly squirm in his seat. She could see the panic rising in his eyes, the way his hands clenched around his phone as if it were a lifeline.
For a moment, she considered taking it further, pressing him just to see how far she could push his discomfort. But then the bus arrived, its doors hissing open. The man practically leapt to his feet, rushing to board without another word, his skirt swishing around his thighs as he hurried away from her.
Claire stood there for a moment, watching the bus pull away, a deep sense of satisfaction settling over her. The night had proven everything she wanted to know: this world was hers, and now, so was the power.
She turned and began to walk back home, a satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. The night was still young, and there was plenty more fun to be had.