to S—

It was already night. The last meeting had been hours too long. You walked into your hotel room, feeling tired and upset.

You needed a rest.

By then you had decided to skip dinner and also the karaoke bar. To hell with networking and brown-nosing. Room service, a shower, and bed. Work trips are always stressful for you. Too many meetings, too many events and people to appease. But this time around, the people at the “roundtables” and the “brainstorming sessions” had been worse than ever. Why did the bosses always wanted impossible goals to be met? Who did the idiots at marketing think they were? Did they all believe their stupidity make them better than everyone else? Did they think employees were cattle, action figures to pose and move around?

You closed the door and your mind stopped for a moment, then started again.

You didn’t notice, but you had forgotten who the idiots at marketing were. Suddenly, their names, their faces, their words, their callous and idiotic behavior weren’t anywhere in your thoughts anymore.

You took one step inside the room and you forgot the bosses, too.

Another step and you felt just sick of your work in general. This was because you had lost all details of what your work was. You only held on to a vague impression of toil and boredom, of long, useless hours somewhere outside your room. You couldn’t have described your duties. You had forgotten the name of the company you work for.

I feel better now, you thought. All alone with some time for myself.

It was completely true.

I deserve to relax and unwind, you thought. Yes, you did. For starters, let’s get rid of that phone. What a good idea! You had several notifications on the screen, but you turned the phone off without looking and tossed it away. It fell on the carpet near a wall.

Let’s get rid of all other distractions.

You were carrying a ring binder with documents and a couple of pens. Also your notebook and tablet. You walked to the bedside table and left everything on it. As soon as you let them go you forgot about them, too.

You walked to the window, opened the curtains and caught a glimpse of a parking lot, an overpass and the bar, a hideous, pyramid-shaped building. Dirty-white lights were on everywhere, but the view felt dark and depressing.

There’s nothing interesting out there, you thought. You closed the curtains and forgot about the bar. This is much better, you thought. A nice, safe place.

You felt, briefly, that those words sounded weird, like something whispered in your ear. You even stopped for a bit in your way from the window, just a little confused.

I’m all alone here, you thought. I can and should enjoy myself.

The moment passed. You resumed your short trip to a sofa and a little desk near the bed. It’s really comfortable in here, you thought. Cosy. The impersonal, businesslike decoration suddenly seemed beautiful, the lights warmer. The abstract painting on the wall was quite tasteful. The flat-screen TV beside the painting complemented it surprisingly well. You sat on the sofa to look at them and around you. Why hadn’t you noticed the beauty of the room before?

I feel much better now, you thought. Calm. Relaxed.

You took a deep breath.

Before anything else, you thought, I must undress to feel even more relaxed.

So you took of your shirt and shoes and pants and socks, and sat down again in your underwear. It really felt more relaxing.

I must strip all the way down, you thought, and you did. However, when you were completely naked, you looked down and realized you were not relaxed, but very aroused: your cock was hard and throbbed a little, as if it were anticipating a—

I must do something about that cock right now, you thought, and then you kneeled and started stroking with abandon. You weren’t surprised by your own arousal. You focused only on the touch of your own hand on that skin, the precise mix of softness and force you needed to stimulate it—

She should be here. I’m thinking of her, you thought.

And then you started thinking of her. You saw her, in a way: she was so present in your memory now that she seemed there, in the room with you. Her round, beautiful face; her full, sexy figure; her imposing yet kind demeanor. You knew her. You knew her name. You had lost yourself more than once in her eyes, which were big and blue, a gaze piercing in its intensity but also curious, and genial, and caring. That gaze had awakened something, deep within you, many times, and now it turned you on, and on, and on, as you kept stroking.

I will think of her name when the time is right, you thought. You didn’t find anything unusual in that notion. The thought was the most natural, reasonable one in the whole world. Everybody does that. Everybody delays the moment of fully recognizing the object of their desire while they masturbate. Everybody masturbates naked and on their knees. Everybody lets their mind wander through the memories of the person they adore and worship, fantasizing with being with them, longing to give themselves completely to that person, all the while pushing aside their name! Not naming them! Not saying—

“Mistress!”, you said, as you came. You watched a pale spurt of cum fall to the carpet as in slow motion while you trembled. Your whole body was tense, clenching, and rapidly relaxing. Your mind was, too. And why did I say “mistress”?, you thought. You… you had no mistress. Had you? It was hard to think about anything from outside your room, but you were pretty convinced you had no lover outside a marriage. And why would you call a mistress just… “mistress”? Wouldn’t her name be more appropriate? Or some term of endearment?

I will see my Mistress now, you thought.

And you did.

There was a woman in the room! Right in front of you. Right as you remembered her… Or, maybe, incredibly, eerily similar to that memory or fantasy… Or…

“Whoa!,” you shouted, and you tried to stand up, and almost slipped and fell on your own cum. “Who —who are you? How did you…?”

She just smiled. You knew that smile. You knew that face, and that figure, that gaze, but you couldn’t just—

“Thought in your head: ‘It’s you! All this time it’s been you.”’

“It’s you!,” you said. “All this time it’s been you… No! No, wait.” You shook your head and closed your eyes.

“Are you all right?”, she asked, and there was concern in her voice. She took one step towards you.

“It’s you… No, wait, no!,” you asked. “Please. You’re making me… You’re messign with my head.”

She —that is, I— kneeled in front of you and took your hands as delicately as I could. They felt cold within my palms. You seemed lost. You were shaking, weakly, nervously like a little bird.

“Yes, I’m messing with your mind,” I said. “But you wanted me to. This is a game we’ve played before. And look, even though you feel confused, you’re not freaking out. Even if you don’t remember many things, you know, deeper down, that you’re safe. All that you are, all that you know and do and love, is safe with me. You are safe with me. And you wanted me to play with you. Remember. Now.”

And you did.

Because my words were the truth, and because it was I, your Mistress, the one who said them.

I could see, almost literally see, how all the memories I had suppresed came back to you in an instant. How we had met, long ago. How I started hypnotizing you. How I asked you if you wanted to be mine and you said yes. How you had been practicing for years as my subject, gaining more and more ability.

How we had met first online, then in person. How he saw each other any time we could. How we cherished each hypnotic encounter.

And how we had planned this meeting, here, in your hotel room, away from your work, away from any toil and boredom. No bosses, no networking. No pain without consent. No obligations to anyone but me.

No center of attention but you.

“I’m yours, right?,” you asked. “I’m completely yours. You own me. And you… commanded me, controlled me…”

“Shush, baby”, I said. “Everything’s all right. Come here,” and you let me hug you, softly, warmly. I stayed silent for a while, just holding you, so I could reassure you in the old-fashioned way, with my touch and my presence, asking for nothing. Your mind was still dazed but your body recognized me, and trusted me. You were still that little bird, afraid of the entire big world, but were starting to feel better because you also realized, deeper in yourself than any words, that you were protected, and cared for.

After a while, when I judged you felt much more comfortable, I scratched your head, just how you like it, and spoke again. “It’s alright. Good boy. Listen. I just made you forget some things, not to see others… And I also made you think some more,” I said, smiling again. “I can dictate what you think. Thought in your head: 'Now I get it. You hypnotized me to obey you.’”

“Now I get it. You hypnotized me to obey you,” you said, and then, “I didn’t think that!,” and let out a silly laugh, as if that was the newest novelty ever.

I let you look at me and lose yourself in my gaze. I was a sun, happy to see its own light reflected on a humble moon.

“I gave you that, my boy”, I said. “My sweet beautiful boy.”

You rested your head on my lap. I moved to a sitting position to let you do it more comfortably, and to be over you, as we both like. Your head felt warm on my thighs.

You once said to me. “You are the place I love the most in the whole word. My true safe place, where I belong.”

Now you were smiling and letting out little moans of relief and glee. You had returned. You were with me.