"I… I have a confession to make."
He's sitting, pants down, on the edge of the bed. You’re kneeling in front of his open legs, looking at his erect cock. You are deeply conditioned, so brainwashed that you can't look away. But there’s enough clarity in your mind.
You have been waiting for this moment. Everything is ready. This will be your first night together.
"Well," you reply. "It's… embarrassing. I don't know. Maybe…"
"You've started already," he says, sternly. "You will finish. Now."
"You won't go into trance, or have any rewards, until you finish telling me."
"Yes, Master," you repeat, your gaze locked in place, your mind floating just below total awareness, unable to rise up or sink further down. "Thank you, Master."
And you continue. You need to obey, so an urgency you didn't feel before is helping you, giving you energy to speak.
"Before you hypnotized me, and made me yours, I—I didn't fancy you. At all."
"I know that. That's what made breaking you so delicious."
"Thank you for breaking me, Master! But I mean—I mean that, aside from not liking your personality, I didn't like your body, either."
There was a pause.
"Yes, Master. In fact… I still don't like it. By itself, it wouldn't make me feel anything at all. You're not—I mean, your—your physique, it-it is not…"
"No more stuttering! Speak frankly," he commands, and you fear a later punishment, but at the same time you sense he really wants to know the rest of what you're telling him.
Fearing that he will not like it, that you both will regret it, you obey and speak again.
"Yes, Master. I… I’ve never been attracted to you. I can’t say you’re handsome, good-looking, hot. None of those words. I couldn’t before and I can’t now. You're not my type. You have too much body hair and—too little hair on your head. You're a… little too old for me? And, I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry, but… you should exercise more. I don't mind a tummy, but you've been putting on weight and you look… fat, now? I mean, to me! I-I-I… Forgive me, Master."
You are blushing now. And something else is happening: you're losing focus. The reason is obvious: your Master's cock is deflating, no longer hard. You have no point to concentrate on anymore. You feel yourself coming slightly up and becoming aware of your Master’s face.
It has no expression. It’s as distant and cold as you’ve ever seen it.
"Why are you telling me this now?," he asks.”Why didn't you tell me before?”
Suddenly he looks different. Smaller. He’s a pudgy man with his pants down, in a bedroom, in some nondescript apartment. You both are nondescript adults, caught unawares during a pause in some silly game.
Should I…, should I just stand up now?
Should I leave?
What have I done?
“Answer me,” he insists, and his voice is the same as always. It has authority and power.
You grab on to that voice. You need to. Maybe all is not ruined yet. Maybe it will end well.
You steel yourself, close your eyes and say:
“Yes, Master. For a long, long while I didn’t think about it. You know, while you were breaking me, I was so—so broken? No, no, that's a stupid thing to say. I was so… fragmented. Jumbled. You were remaking me, reassembling my mind. I didn’t think much of anything except what you were telling me to think. Those memories resurfaced today. It's the first time I'm so lucid in a while. I-I just realized all that I’ve just told you… And I just realized that I’m grateful for it, too.”
Is that surprise in your Master’s voice?
“Yes, Master! I'm so grateful! Before, when I fantasized about being brainwashed, about becoming someone’s live-in slave, I always thought I would not be enthralled by just anyone. It would be a—a charming prince, an ideal someone exactly to my liking. I imagined faces and bodies I lusted for: celebrities, people from college or social media… And then you started to hypnotize me. I was so surprised. You, who are nothing like my fantasies, were the one slowly brainwashing me… I was being corrupted, made to accept the unacceptable. And it was so hot! So liberating! It's like I have—betrayed myself? Does that make any sense? I have let go of all reservations, all expectations of my own, all desires except the big one. The desire to submit completely. To you and only you. I've convinced myself not to demand anything, to surrender completely to what you are… And it's the best thing that's ever happened to me! That's why I'm grateful!”
“Touch me,” he commands. “You know how. And keep talking.”
You obey. Raising a hand, you put your palm near his cock. You slide a finger between his pubic hairs, which are coarse and black. You never thought you would do that so easily, with such abandon. You feel his cock rising again. You caress him, feeling the softness of his skin, smelling his odor. You don't like them either. But they’re his.
“You know, Master… When you and I started talking, and playing… I was betraying myself even then. Sabotaging myself. Each scene we had, each time I went under for you, I thought, This is the last time. After this, no more. I knew I was doing wrong. I mean—I knew that was not what I wanted. Not for the rest of my life. I wanted… Other things. But I didn’t stop. I fell for you. For what you made me feel. And something happened as I was falling. The rest of my life fell apart, I was in a dark place… But, most of all, I became yours. And now—Now I only want to obey you.”
You’re still caressing him, lightly touching the soft base of his cock. “To serve you. That's all I'll ever want. Nothing else. I don't even want to please myself anymore. I don't want to have my pleasure. I'll have pleasure, I know, but only because you'll allow me to. Because you'll give it to me. It will be yours. From you to me. Do you know how liberating it is? How much weight has that taken from me?”
His cock is even harder and redder than before. Soon, you will lose yourself looking at it, but there's one last thing you must say. So you say it:
“Please forgive me if I'm offending you, Master. I was trying to express something good and I—I upset you! I'm so sorry! Please don’t send me away! Please don’t leave me!” And now you would want to avert your eyes, to look downward in shame. But you can't.
Your focal point is back. Truly back. You have lost all will to keep going. The effort was too great. Now you can only keep looking. You can only want to sink for him, for your Master, and be afraid.
Time passes, you don’t know how much.
Then he says, “I’m satisfied. You’re even more broken than I thought. You yourself helped me break you! Thank you, slave.”
Then he says a trigger, a command that makes you drop and sink in what is now a state of bliss: mindless, complete happiness. You can’t form the words anymore, but your body and your brain are singing, My Master understands! My Master wants me! My Master understands! My Master wants me!, as they surrender to his pleasure and your mouth starts pleasuring his body.
And this is the first day of your new life, at his feet, having betrayed and defeated yourself completely.