Keys and a fast food paper bag hit the faux wood surface of Jim’s office desk at 8 am as he moved to turn on his computer. He quickly made coffee in the break room while letting his computer boot up for his morning (and possible afternoon) of overtime.  He was only getting paid for the morning, but his boss had promised to let Jim flex his time later in the week if he went past 12:30 and got the code done. 

Coffee in hand, breakfast burrito on a paper plate next to him, Jim settled into his chair, slipped his earbuds in, and dove into the code.

At 12:30, his alarm on his phone sounded. He jumped, blinking and staring at the screen, seeing that the code was done, checked, and he had sent to his boss twenty minutes before. He glanced over the work, not seeing any issues with it.  He’d just been so focused on wanting to get it done that he hadn’t even realized he had finished until the alarm went off.

Jim pulled out his earbuds, noticing that he’d refilled his mug a few times, as the coffee was still warm.  He shook his head, surprised that he’d not noticed anything while coding. Maybe he needed to come in on Saturdays more often, take advantage of the quiet.

Since he was done, he took his mug to the break room to wash it before doing a quick check around the floor to see if anyone else had come in, though no one else had been scheduled.  No one else had, which clearly had been good for his concentration.

Back in his office, he was cleaning up his desk when he heard a voice. “Are we alone, thrall?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he responded automatically, pausing in what he was doing.

“Good. Continue what you are doing and tell me when you are finished.”

“Yes, Mistress.”  When he had thrown away the food trash, organized the desk, and packed away his earbuds in his computer bag, he stopped, staring at the desk top. “I am finished, Mistress.”

“Very good, thrall.”  Pleasure surged through him at her words. “Tell me, how did it feel, working while in a light trance?”

“Very focused,” he said, again not thinking about what he said before saying it. “Once I started, the code was all I saw, eating and drinking peripheral, but no other distractions. Not even the music I usually play.”

“Was there music, thrall?” Mistress asked with amusement. “I think you should remember your training.”

At that phrase, Jim blinked. His memories seemed to shift as he suddenly recalled last night’s session with Lady Z and telling her about his need to work OT the next day, as it might cut into their play time.  She had offered to help him focus on his work so he didn’t have to spend all day in the office with the code. He’d agreed.

“There was no music,” he said aloud now. “Putting in my earbuds was the trigger to my trance, and removing one of them would bring me out of it.  But while both were in, I would be in a trance, focused on the job.”  The earbud removal had been a fail-safe in case someone else wanted to talk to him.  Just like checking the floor when he was done had been programmed into his mind.

“Very good, thrall,” Mistress said, the words sparking pleasure again.  “I want you to see the light as well.”

At that, he blinked as his Mistress appeared, leaning against the doorway to his office, in jeans and a sweater, arms folded across her chest. And it was his Mistress, his mind noted as he caught sighed of the ornate silver necklace with red and black jewels around her neck. He slowly sank to his knees, a compulsion tied to seeing her in person wearing that necklace. She only wore it when she would be Lady Z, his Mistress, and not a fellow colleague. That had been the compromise they’d made nearly a year ago, to keep Jim’s hypnotic programming from causing a problem in the office.

“Very good, thrall,” his Mistress purred, moving into the office and shutting the door behind her. “Do you remember what else you did while in your trance?”

“No Mistress.”

She smirked. “No, you don’t. Because I haven’t told you to remember.”  Mistress moved behind him and he heard her sit in his desk chair. “Position 3, thrall.” Jim’s torso dropped so he was on hands and knees now, and felt Mistress’ legs settle into his back. He straightened, wanting to be the best footstool he could be for her.

“I haven’t told you to remember texting me after you emailed the finished code to your boss. Or to remember that I periodically came to check on you and made sure you were taking breaks in your trance.   And I’m sure you don’t remember how I promised to reward you if you did finish the code before your alarm sounded, do you?”

“No, Mistress.”  He blinked, but she was right. He recalled bits and pieces of this morning, but none of those memories included his Mistress. Not until after he was finished working.

“You have such a beautifully receptive mind, thrall.  You should be proud of that.” He felt pride rush through him, that he was pleasing her by being so receptive.

“Only seven words, thrall. Comply?”

“Comply,” he responded, his responses now  restricted.

“Tell me your seven words, in order, thrall.”

“Red, Yellow, Please, Yes, No, Comply, Mistress.”

“Very good, thrall. Very good indeed.” Her legs lifted from his back. “Position one.”

He sat up on his knees, hands on his thighs. He wanted to squirm and adjust himself, as his erection was straining against his fly, but he couldn’t without permission.

His chair creaked behind him as his Mistress moved, and her breasts pressed into his back, her hands circling him to rest lightly against his fly.

“You don’t remember that I promised you that if you finished before 12:30, then once you officially off the clock for today, your reward would be submitting to me in your office, like in your fantasies that you don’t remember telling me. If you didn’t finish before 12:30, you would have to wait until next online session to submit to Lady Z again.  I’m so pleased you wanted to submit, thrall,” she breathed the last into his ear. “I was looking forward to seeing you like this again, on your hands and knees in your own office, unable to resist my commands, your mind and body docile and compliant to my will. And you are docile and compliant to my will, aren’t you, thrall?”  

“Yes Mistress,” he managed to grind out, his eyes not seeing much beyond the images Mistress’ words painted in his mind.

He hand stroked over his confined erection. “It’s been so long since we’ve done this in your office, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  Lady Z would appear in his office from time to time to drop him, give him instructions he’d didn’t remember, but it had been months since they’d done any more risqué play.  

“Hm,” she hummed approvingly.  “You would do anything I asked right now, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She cupped him. “If I ordered you to go home now and not touch yourself until our next session, you would, right thrall?”

He almost whined, the thought of no relief making him harder, but whining wasn’t allowed under his restrictions. Instead, he replied. “Yes Mistress.”  He had done it before, at her command. He had hated it, even as he loved obeying her.

“Are you in trance, thrall?”

Jim’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He was and he wasn’t, he could tell. He didn’t feel the melty-drifty focus of being in trance, but he also knew his critical thinking was gone, and had been since seeing Mistress’ necklace.  He was so conditioned to respond to her with that necklace that she didn’t have to explicitly put him into trance for him to obey.

“Mmm. If you can’t answer, perhaps you need to Focus and Drift Thrall.”

His mind skittered, and he fell into that melting-drifting focus, his being attuned to his Mistress while completely unaware of anything else.

He felt her hands at his waistband, undoing his belt, opening his jeans.  The cool air that hit his erection as she pulled it out was a momentary tease for the ache, and then her hand curled around him, squeezing lightly.

“Now, thrall,” Mistress said, her voice more commanding than before. “You cannot come until I give you permission. Comply?”

“Comply.”

“I will not give you permission until you beg me.  Comply?”

He felt himself grow harder, even as he wanted to protest.  “Comply,” he said, arousal winning out.

“You will not be able to speak until you are so close to orgasm that you cannot help speaking. The longer you wait to speak, the more powerful your orgasm will be. Comply?”

“Comply.”  It was almost a sob, as she had begun stroking him while speaking.

“Good thrall. Now just enjoy, until you can’t anymore.”  Her hand began stroking him, and his world narrowed to the sensations of her hand, it’s speed and firmness and all the little ways it teased him down from the brink of orgasm before sending him hurtling back toward it.  

Over and over, his Mistress edged him mercilessly, before she started adding her words to the torment.  

“I know it’s hard to beg, thrall, but you also know that you can’t come without my permission. I know that your mind and body obey me in this, even as you get so close,” she stopped and removed her hand, and Jim couldn’t even whine as he felt what had been an imminent orgasm slip back into mere arousal.

“So close, so good for your Mistress. So ready to come if only you beg,” she said, her hand stroking him again. “That’s all you need to do, beg and this,” her hand slid away, his hips bucking as he tried to get more stimulation, “won’t be left wanting.”

She stroked him again, backing off as he got near. After a while, she started speaking again. “Of course, if you don’t want to come, I can stop, leaving you hard and wanting all week. Knowing that you can’t come, can’t even stroke yourself, without permission.  Do you want me to stop, thrall?”

“No Mistress!”

Her hand did stop, her voice amused. “Then you know what you have to do to be my docile and obedient thrall.”  She stroked him again.  “It would please me so much to see you so obedient, thrall.  Just two words and this torment will be over.”

Finally, Jim cried out, desperate to come, to please her.   “Please, Mistress!”

He heard her chuckle for a moment, her hand leaving him, letting the sensation die down, and then what his brain thought might be cloth was wrapped around his dick before Mistress began stroking him again.  “Such a good thrall,” she murmured.  “So good and obedient.”  He heard the praise in her voice and strained against the hand stroking him.

“Please, Mistress,” he begged again.  

“Thrall has permission to come.”

His mouth opened in a soundless cry as the command hit and released the hold on his body, allowing him to come.  He surrendered to the pleasure of orgasm, of submission and of pleasing his Mistress.

His body slumped back against his Mistress as he came down from the high.  She gently murmured words he couldn’t quite make out as he felt her cleaning him up, tucking his now limp cock into his jeans, and putting his clothing to rights.

The words finally began impinging on his orgasmic haze.  “That was so wonderful, thrall. You looked so good in your pleasure.  I know that was difficult but you did so well.  You please me so much.”

He basked in her continued praise as he rested against her, not eager to move.  Her voice faded out for a bit, he only heard the sounds but didn’t register the words, but that didn’t bother him.  It was okay not to recall what Mistress was saying.  Not recalling pleased Mistress.

Eventually, her voice came back into focus.  “That’s it, thrall. Focusing on my voice. Are you focusing on my voice, thrall?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Such a good boy,” she praised. “You did so well, so I will reward you. When I wake you, you will remember what we did today, and the next time you are getting ready to sleep in your own bed, you will replay this entire encounter in your mind while masturbating, coming when you do in your memory. Do you understand?”

He felt a smile curve his lips.  “Yes Mistress.”

“Comply?”

“Comply.”

He heard her chuckle at his eager response. “Good thrall.  Position one, eyes closed.”

He sat up straight automatically, eyes closing, hands on his thighs. He heard his Mistress stand behind him and move around his office. He didn’t know how much time had passed before she spoke.

“You can start drifting back to awareness now, at your own pace, taking a deep breath and opening your eyes when you are fully awake.”

Jim drifted toward wakefulness, feeling awareness return, the sense of his office, of himself. He found himself taking in a deep breath and opening his eyes as he exhaled. Immediately his eyes sought out the other person in the room, seeing her sitting in his visitor chair, same jeans and sweater, but no necklace.  He smiled. “Marisol.”  If she wasn’t wearing the necklace, he couldn’t address her as Mistress in person.

“Jim.”  She smiled back.  “Hopefully you enjoyed that as much as I did.”

“Fuck, I enjoyed it,” he replied, slowly getting to his feet, the compulsion to be on his knees gone. He frowned. “You didn’t—?”

Marisol laughed. “Watching you submit to me like that was reward enough.”  Her smile, though, hinted at something else that Jim couldn’t quite figure out.

His cell phone buzzed with an incoming email. Jim opened at it, then smiled.  “Buddy got the code, has tested it, and is apparently in the process of nominating me for sainthood for getting it done earlier than anticipated so this can launch on schedule.”  He looked up at Marisol. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. As long as I get to have some fun afterward,” she added.

“I have no objection to that,” he replied. He got to enjoy her fun as well.

“I didn’t think you would.”  The smirk was back as she stood, picking up a bag he hadn’t seen before. “I’ve got a late appointment I need to get to. I’ll see you in the Monday morning meeting?”

“See you then,” he affirmed, getting another smile as she opened his door and left the office. He made sure everything was properly powered down before grabbing his keys, computer bag, and the small paper bag on his desk, heading out to his car.  He realized in the elevator that his Mistress must have cleaned up after their activities before waking him up, because other than a faint odor that had been mixed with the smell of air freshener, there was no physical evidence of his orgasm in the office.  He recalled the feeling of a cloth being wrapped around him, and realized she’d done that to catch his semen and clean him up before releasing him from trance. He would have to thank her for that later.  

On his way home, he tried to think about his plans for the evening.  He thought there was something he needed to do, but it just wasn’t coming into his mind. He shrugged. Guess it would be a night at home with a beer and whatever he could find on the streaming services.

He set his keys and the two bags on his kitchen counter and blinked at the paper bag. It wasn’t the fast food bag he’d taken to work that morning. It was a plain brown lunch bag that he didn’t think he had seen before, but he found himself opening it before his brain registered what he was doing.

Inside was a plastic hotel key and a note, with “Thrall” written on it in Lady Z’s handwriting. He opened it eagerly.

*I’m glad you enjoyed your fantasy, thrall, but now it is time for you to return the favor, as we agreed.  Your mind knows the hotel and room this goes to, and what time to be there, and how to be waiting for my arrival. I know you will not disappoint me, thrall.*

Jim blinked. “I obey my Mistress,” he said, then shivered as her commands came to the forefront of his mind. He smiled happily as he went to prepare for the rest of the weekend.

Looks like he had plans tonight after all.