Just the 4pm Friday senior staff meeting to get through, and Jim was home free for the weekend. He refilled his water bottle, trying not to think of his plans for the evening. His excitement might be a little too visible with those thoughts.

Bottle refilled and progress report on the new online reporting system for their field staff in hand, he headed up two floors to the “Boss Floor” as it was colloquially known, and the main conference room, taking one of the last chairs against the wall.  The chairs around the table were partially filled in, and he nodded to his boss, the IT Director. Buddy nodded back, sipping what had to be his 8th Mountain Dew of the day. 

Jim ignored most of the people filing in. He was used to the grumbling regarding the timing of the meeting. The CEO expected everyone to be there on Friday afternoon. This was his way of ensuring no one on the senior staff snuck out for a quick round of golf.

He didn’t look up until the CEO called the meeting to order.  Still thinking of what he was going to say on the status of his project, he didn’t really pay attention to the other reports until the new Media Relations Director was introduced by the CEO. Ms. Marisol Rodriguez, the email had said earlier that week.  Now, the woman stood, turning around to wave to everyone, and Jim had to grip his chair arms to make sure he didn’t do anything inappropriate.  

Like slide to his knees and call her ‘Mistress’.

The woman’s eyes widened briefly when they landed on Jim, but she didn’t linger, sitting down with a quick smoothing of her skirt. Her back was to Jim, giving him time to compose himself.  This was going to be so awkward later. Because Marisol Rodriguez was also Lady Z, the hypno-Domme Jim had been submitting to since they first met at the erotic hypnocon five months ago. The woman he planned to let trance him into hazy and delicious submission tonight over the Internet, as he had at least once a week since the con ended.

His Mistress now worked two floors above him. This was going to be very awkward.

He had to shut out her voice as she talked about her plans for the new media campaign. Luckily, she was too good, never slipped into the tone that could drop him.  Because that would have been bad.

And somehow, he managed to get through his report without embarrassing himself, leaving the room as quickly as he could for the relative sanity of his own office. He’d stay for another hour and a half. That would let him avoid traffic and be home just before he had to be online to meet Mistress. He had work he could do until then.  And keep his mind off where she was.

His phone buzzed an hour later with a message. “I think we need to discuss this. Are you still at the office?”

He hesitated, then texted back with his office number.  He went back to the code he was writing, but five minutes later, there was a knock on the doorjamb. “We are the only people on the floor. I checked.”

Jim looked up and fought against going to his knees again. He hasn’t realized that suggestion from the con, to be on his knees around her in person, was still in his brain. She had removed most of them at the end of con, except for those they’d agreed to keep for online sessions.  Not that he remembered all of them, at his request.  And he only dropped to his knees online if they’d planned for it, to make sure she could still see him. He didn’t need to see her, usually. Her voice was enough.

Lady Z smirked as she sat in his visitor chair, setting down her bag. “So, this is awkward,” she said.

“Very,” he finally replied. “When did you start here?”

“Monday, but I’ve been running around with HR and everything, so I hadn’t even gotten a tour.”  She paused. “Will this change anything?”

“I don’t know.”  He swallowed. “It’s taking all of my willpower not to react.”

She nodded. “We could break it off, remove the triggers.”

“I’d still remember. And... I don’t really want to break it off.”  He felt free, admitting that. “But I don’t know how it would work, here.”  He gestured to the office and the hallway beyond. “I can’t exactly get on my knees and call you Mistress in the lunch room.”

Lady Z - he really couldn’t think of her as Marisol or Ms. Rodriguez - quirked her mouth in a familiar smile that sent a bolt of arousal through him. “Shame, that,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “You look so wonderful on your knees.”

Jim dug his fingers into the arms of his chair to keep himself seat, even as his body jerked a bit, trying to move.  He could feel his cheeks throbbing with the effort; the need to submit to his Mistress warring with his knowledge that this wasn’t the time or place.

Lady Z caught it and smiled more, before shaking her head. “I can see that you’ve taken well to our sessions. We need to decide on how to handle this,” she said, dropping back into a more office appropriate persona.

“I don’t want to stop,” he said quickly. “I don’t mind sticking solely to Internet, but we need to do something to... disconnect work from play. If I’m making sense. At least,” he swallowed, taking a chance, fantasies swirling in his brain, “during the work day, while others are around.  If we don’t want to be just internet....” he trailed off, feeling the tips of his ears heat up more.  His shoulders hunched and he didn’t look at her, worried about her reaction.

Lady Z chuckled. “I like the way you think,” she said.  He risked looking up at her, and saw she looking at the far wall of his office. “It will take some work to have the disconnect, as you put it, installed, and we would have to be very careful about playing here, but I think it could work.”  She smirked. “I suspect there will be a lot of trancing involved to make sure work and play are separated.  Something I know you will enjoy.”  It was a statement of fact, and Jim nodded, knowing he was hard just from the idea of trancing more, and deeper. To being so in thrall to Lady Z that his mind would be her playground, hopefully for mutual pleasure. “Is that what you want?” she asked, looking at him. “And take your time responding. I will not be disappointed if you change your mind. We both have a lot riding on this.”

He paused. Did he want to take their arrangement to this level, where they might be doing things at work, albeit after hours, but where people could potentially see? They would have to set parameters, especially if she wanted to text him things at work from her office two floors above, giving him almost no choice about responding to whatever it was. This was more than just a face on a screen, a voice in his headphones, taking over his mind.  This was a mind control story come to life, a Mistress and her willing sub in the office - and a potential disciplinary action waiting to happen if they were caught on the property.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

He looked directly at Lady Z.  “Yes, it’s what I want.”

She gave him a genuine smile, one he recognized from the times they talked before a session. “It’s what I want, too,” she admitted. “But with boundaries.”

“Agreed,” he said. “Boundaries are good.”

“But for now, well, we are alone on the floor,” she smirked. His body and mind responded to that particular smirk, trying to sink into her words, to his knees.

“Let me double check,” he said quickly. “Some of us IT folks are good at hiding.  And the cleaning crew comes in at 9.”

Lady Z checked her watch. “A small taste then, maybe 15 minutes, before we adjourn for our respective homes and meet up as planned?”

“Door closed.”

She nodded. “Of course. No need to take unnecessary risks.” She gestured to the door. “Go make sure we are alone.”

The clear order in her voice has him up and out the door before thinking about it, face flaming as he thought about what could happen.  He forced himself to go slowly and walk the floor casually, checking to see if any others had stayed late. Nothing he wouldn’t do anyway if he was staying late.

They were alone on the floor. Even Wilma, who had a habit of working in her office with the door closed and lights off (which startled the late night cleaning crew at least twice a week to Wilma’s amusement) was gone for the night - based on the fact that her lunch bag was gone.

Jim approached the door to his office, seeing that the chair Lady Z had been in was now vacant. He swallowed, and entered the office.

Lady Z sat in his chair behind his desk. She had removed her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse, letting the red of her lingerie show. Nestled in her cleavage was a very familiar pendant, and his eyes locked onto it, as had been previously commanded by his Mistress.

“Close the door, thrall.”

“As my Mistress wishes,” he replied automatically, her name for him pushing all other thoughts out of his head. He closed the door to the office and waited, aroused as hell at standing in his own office and submitting to his Mistress.

“Where does a thrall belong in the presence of his Mistress?” Lady Z asked sharply.

Jim dropped to his knees. “On his knees, Mistress.”

“Good thrall,” she replied, standing up. She moved forward and stroked her fingers through his hair. Warmth spread through him at having pleased her. Her fingers moved along his jaw and one came to rest under his chin, pushing it up so he met her eyes. “Only seven words, thrall. Comply?”

“Comply,” he sighed, sinking deeper into her power, his voice now limited to only the seven words authorized by the trigger - five different words and his two safe words. Not even a moan or sigh would escape his lips.

“Good thrall.”  The warmth came back at that. “You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you, to be on your knees for your Mistress?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You would do anything I asked right now, wouldn’t you?  You’d crawl under your own desk and eat me out if I asked, wouldn’t you, thrall?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  His voice was eager, his body leaning forward, knees aching to crawl forward and obey her.

“Maybe some other night,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Once all the boundaries are in place. But for now,” she tapped his chin again, and he looked back up at her, staring at the pendant she held up in his line of sight, “Good thralls go deep for Lady Z.”

“Comply,” he breathed out as his eyes closed and he dropped into trance.

“... three, two, one, wake.” A snap had his eyes opening and Jim blinked, looking around, his brain still hazy.  He was still in his office, but now on his hands and knees next to his desk, with something resting on his back. He looked around. Lady Z still sat in his chair, her legs up. Her feet were on his back. He blinked, opening his mouth to ask a question.  “Mistress?” Is all that came out. Seven words still in effect, then, in addition to probably being in a light trance.  He didn’t care either way, not sure if that was a suggestion or just a function of the trance. Or both.

“I couldn’t resist. You look so delicious as a footstool,” she said with a smile, swinging her legs down and standing. Her blouse was buttoned again, the pendant hidden. Lady Z picked up her jacket and purse and stood by the door. “You may rise, thrall.”

He shifted and stood.  He was as hard as he’d been when this started, and it definitely didn’t feel like Lady Z had allowed him any relief.

She walked up to him and caught his chin, forcing him to look at her. “In five minutes, you will fully awaken from your trance and begin packing up for the evening. You will leave, go home, and be online in precisely forty-five minutes. And you will obey the commands I gave you while in trance,” she added with a dark smirk that only added to his arousal. “Comply?” “Comply, Mistress.”

“Sit,” she said, and he dropped into his chair. “Your five minutes begin... now.”  She snapped her fingers and he dropped back into trance.

He awoke five minutes later, alone in the office, door shut, and moved to pack up for the night, constantly checking his watch to make sure he was on time. Ten minutes to pack and get to his car. Twenty minutes to get home if traffic was light. That left twenty minutes before he had to be online, with the five minute delay for Lady Z to leave.

He made it home with twenty three minutes to spare. Once inside he set his alarm, stripped his clothing off, and headed for his kitchen and then his closet. Finally he entered his home office, starting the computer and the communication program, setting the bottles of water next to the computer and putting a towel on the chair, another on the floor, and one in his lap when he sat down.

As soon as he sat, his right hand moved to his lap, lightly stroking himself through the towel, the touch barely enough and yet too much. “Good thralls edge for their Mistress,” he said aloud, repeating it with every stroke.

As soon as he felt like he was close to coming, his hand rose into the air, stopping in front of his eyes. “Good thralls wait for permission to come.”

His hand eventually dropped on its own, and he began stroking again, repeating his mantra, staring at the screen of his computer, not registering what was on it.  The cycle of stroking and stopping continued until, forty five minutes after his Mistress had last dropped him into trance, he heard her voice.

“Thrall has permission to come.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said before he came into the towel on his lap, gasping, reveling in the release and submission. He panted for a few moments after finishing, his brain rebooting as his cheeks turned red at what had happened, what he’d been hypnotically commanded to do, and had done without thought or question. Like now, as he realized he was cleaning himself up with the towel and placing it in the nearby bin for laundry. He sat back up and stared at the computer screen. Part of him vaguely realized Mistress had been watching him the entire time, but he hadn’t been allowed to know.

“Good thrall,” Mistress purred, and he went red again, proud of pleasing her. “Now, thrall, tomorrow, when you are not in trance and not fractionated, we will discuss the boundaries to work and play. But for now, it is playtime.”

He didn’t respond, just watching as she pulled out the pendant from between her breasts. “Good thralls go deep for Lady Z.”

“Comply,” he said before he was willingly, eagerly, lost to her hypnotic power.