Prya

I paced my living room, looking down anxiously at the lingerie clad woman on my sofa. A black corset with crisscrossing pink ribbon concealed her modest breasts. It matched her black panties and their pink bow as well as the lacy stocking attached to them. I had never had a patient show up to my door in the middle of the night, and certainly not dressed like this. “Catherine, please tell me what you’re doing here.”

She tucked a strand of her straight, black hair behind her ear and then looked up at Greg, like she needed his permission just to answer my question. 

He nodded and then she spoke. “Sister Rebecca sent me here. She told me that this man is my Master now,” she said plainly. 

“She . . . that little . . . Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised,” I fumed. “I hate this.” 

Greg stopped my pacing by placing a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, hey it’ll be alright. Once Rebecca leaks about the drug,”

“Yeah, what happens then?” I snapped. Even if we get the whole fucking company shut down, what happens to her? Is she stuck like this forever? Am I stuck like this forever, Master?”

“I thought you liked having me as your Master?” I could see the hurt in his eyes. That dulled the blade of my anger. I leaned into him.

“I do. Really, I do.” I ran a hand down Master’s chest. “But don’t you see the difference? I’m making that choice. Where’s her choice?”

Catherine perked up as I pointed to her. “I choose to please my Master.” 

“Yes, OF COURSE you do,” I groaned. 

“Well, I mean there are worse things she could be made to do,” Greg said, eyes lingering on the pale flesh of her slender thighs.

I slapped his arm. “Behave, Master. She’s still my patient, you know. I’m supposed to be able to take care of her. I fix things. I help people. It’s who I am or at least who I was. She’s only in this mess because of me, and there’s not a single thing I can do for her.” 

Greg began gently stroking my hair. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know?” 

“Yes I do. I do. If I hadn’t trusted Rebecca none of this would be happening,” I could feel the tears gathering behind my eyes.

“And you wouldn’t have met me, and Rebecca would have found someone else to do her dirty work, and that person probably couldn’t have turned the tables on her.” 

I paused, letting his words sink in. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m so grateful for you.” I nuzzled into his chest. 

He tensed at the praise. “Really, I’m not so great.”

I poked him. “You need to learn to take a compliment, Master.”   

He blushed. It was cute. “Yeah, I guess I do. But let’s talk about Catherine and not about me. I might be able to help her.” 

“Really How?”

“Why the solution to all life’s problems, hypnosis of course,” he said with a flourish of his arm. 

“You think that’ll help her?”

“It worked for you after all. I probably can’t get her back to normal, but I can maybe break her out of zombie mode.” 

I hugged him and pulled him to my chest. “Master, you’re the best. Please hypnotize her.” 

Catherine, meanwhile, was looking up at us like a child whose parents were spelling out B-E-D T-I-M-E, so she wouldn’t hear. “Um, Master, what are we doing to me?” She asked, clearly not knowing much about hypnosis. 

Greg gave me a small squeeze before pulling away to sit beside Catherine on the couch. “Nothing scary. You can just relax for me, Catherine. Just take a deep breath and relax.” 

“Is that all you want me to do, Master?” She asked, edging closer to him. 

“No, I have something very important for you. It’s very important that you watch my finger. Can you do that for me, Catherine?” He took her hand in one of his, while he raised a finger with the other hand and slowly circled it just above the brunette’s eyeline. 

Her eyes rolled up, following the finger’s languid motion. I found my own eyes drifting towards it as well. 

“Just take another deep breath as you watch it move back and forth and all around. Nothing else to think about, nothing else to worry about. You know you need to obey me and I told you to watch my finger, so you’ll watch it with all the focus and attention you can. Isn’t that right?” His hand had slowly moved closer to her eyes, causing them to cross a little. 

“Yes, that’s right, Master,” she sighed, posture slouching.

It had taken me a moment, but I could see the pattern now. He was tracing a spiral, inching ever toward her with a creeping inevitability. Catherine’s eyes followed it dutifully, rolling in her head with every swing, further and further up every time. The rhythm was so stable, so peaceful, just drifting around and around and around. 

“That’s very good Catherine. Just keep watching and focusing, and focussing and watching, and SLEEP!” His other arm yanked the young woman forward as his raised hand fell to her face and pulled it to his chest. I only realized my own eyes were closing too, when the world went dark and then I slept. 

Rebecca

The dull hum of the LED lights was the only sound in the empty parking deck. The concrete coast appeared clear, not that I was worried. Atlus had no reason to suspect I was anything other than an obedient little worker drone, and in a sense I was. While leaking the files had been Master’s plan, a part of me would have done it anyway. At minimum, It would be a fantastic way to stick it to fucking Robert for keeping me stuck as a lowly sales rep.

I sat in my Mercedes, fidgeting with my phone and waiting for Jordan. Still no word from Master. I imagined he’d be too busy enjoying my surprise to thank me yet. No word from Jordan either, but I knew she would come. She was so predictable. What reporter doesn’t want to be the next deep throat, or whatever it was called? Thinking of deep throating gave me a few ideas, but there would be time for that later. 

A dull ka-thunk, ka-thunk was echoing through the structure. After a moment, a pair of headlights wound their way up the ramp to the top level. The dented, blue honda stopped in a stall not too far from me. I couldn’t imagine journalism paid too well. Maybe she could afford something better after this story ran. Reporters got paid by the story, right? Oh well, who knows, who cares. I called Jordan’s number and she answered right away. 

“You came, good, g . . ood.” I said, narrowly avoiding another ‘good girl’. 

“Rebecca, where are you? She said. 

“Don’t worry about where I am.”

“Isn’t that your Mercedes? I think that’s you behind the steering wheel,” she said as she turned around to look out her back window. 

“Stop that! Stop looking. Just act natural,” I hissed into the receiver. 

Jordan sighed. “Ok, I’ll just act like I normally do, when I drive to a random parking deck in the middle of the night. Hmm, now that I think about it, I’ve never fucking done this before, Rebecca! So, wanna tell me why you dragged me out here?”

“I picked this place because it’s one of the oldest parking decks in Camden. It doesn’t have security cameras or anything.” 

“Wait, why do you even know that?”

“I used to bring girls here, so my stupid dad wouldn’t find out I was . . . nevermind! We’re not here to talk about me. I left you a present. Get out of your car and go over to the stairwell.”

“I swear, Rebecca, if this isn’t the next Watergate, I’ll never write another puff piece for you again,” the reporter complained, but she did as she was told and got out of her car. She was dressed in yoga pants and an oversized flannel. Her brown hair was up in a messy bun. I knew it was short notice, but would it have killed her to put a little effort into her appearance? 

“Oh please. This is so big, they’ll stop naming scandals after gates and start naming them after this.” A sputtering ember sparked in me as I watched her obey my instructions. The dull thud of Jordan’s footsteps bounced across the gray walls. I had a brief vision of giving her more commands, of making her mine. But then the flame went out. I didn’t want those things anymore. I wasn’t supposed to. Still I’d had flashes of dominance ever since Master took me. If he would just dominate me properly, I could scratch my newfound need for surrender and then maybe I wouldn’t keep having these urges. 

“Ok, I’m by the stairs. Now what?” Jordan’s irritated voice snapped. 

“Look inside the lip of the trash can. I hid the flash drive there. Pretend you’re throwing something away.”

Jordan’s silhouette bent over the cylindrical can as she peered inside. Her flannel shirt hung down. The fabric of her yoga pants stretched as she bent over, giving me a lovely view. Then she mimed removing gum from her mouth and throwing it away. “Ok I’ve got it, you psychopath. You couldn’t just hand it to me? I thought you said there were no cameras here.” 

“I had to take every precaution. They could have agents anywhere.” Then a possibility occurred to me for the first time and I felt a chill. Jordan wasn’t one of mine, but that didn’t guarantee she was clean. “Jordan, you haven’t started any new prescriptions lately, have you?” 

She paused for what felt like an eternity. “Yeah, why?” 

My blood turned to ice. “What are you taking?” 

“That’s. . . Kind of personal.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “You have to tell me,” I said with deadly seriousness. 

“Rebecca? You sound really worried.”

I could probably hit her with my car from here if it came to that. “It has to do with the present. You could be in danger. You have to tell me.” 

“Fine, god. I just started the pill again, ok.” 

My finger hovered over the engine’s start button. “The pill?”

“Yeah you know, the pill? Birth control? I hadn’t been dating for a while because work’s been nuts, but I’m trying to get back out there. Happy now?”

My hand relaxed. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Rebecca, you’re scaring me. Am I safe to have this?” The frustration in Jordan’s voice had given way to nervousness. 

“I wish I could say, ‘yeah it’s all totally fine.’ But no, no you’re not safe, Jordan. If you want to be safe then stick to your fluff about new drugs and makeup and whatever else it is you write about.” 

Even from here, I could see her turning the flash drive over in her hand. The faint sound of Jordan’s breathing was all that came over the line for a while. “Fuck safe. I’ll take it.” 

Prya

The world slowly blurred back into existence. I had been moved into an armchair, the old one from my parents with the floral print and the funny smell. Catherine was still beside Greg on the couch. She seemed to be waking up too. The brunette stretched one arm over her head as she yawned. Her hazel eyes took in the surroundings with a look of confusion before settling on me. “Oh, um Dr. Kumar, Hi. Um, is this your house? Why am I here?” 

I shot across the room and gave Catherine a hug. “You’re back to yourself! Oh Catherine, I’m so sorry I did this to you. Are you really ok?” I needed to be sure she was ok. 

She looked down at herself as if taking stock. “Yes, I think, I’m ok. Master did something to help me think clearly again.”

“Oh thank you. Thank you so much, Master,” I beamed.

He looked down sheepishly. “It was the least I could do.” 

Then I felt a tugging in the back of my mind to check on Catherine. I punched Greg’s arm. “You did something else, didn’t you?” 

He threw up his hands in mock innocence. “My good Doctor, what makes you think I would ever do something while you were under?” I could still see the barely concealed smirk on his lips. 

I wanted to grill him more, but I had to check on Catherine. The gentle tugging sensation had built into an urgent need. “We’ll talk about this more later.” 

Then I turned to my patient. “I’ll just give you a quick examination to make sure you’re alright.” I needed to help. This was good. It was right, important even. “Open your mouth for me.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said and then parted her delicate lips. I placed a finger on her chin, looking in at her tongue. Everything seemed to check out. Still I had to be sure. I brought my lips to hers. They felt warm and supple as they should have, but I couldn’t leave anything to chance. I pushed my tongue into her mouth. Catherine hesitated at first, but then she opened wider to let me in. I took my time, carefully, diligently exploring her. 

After a moment, her tongue started dancing with mine. That was reassuring, it meant she still retained full motor control of her lingual functions. The young woman whimpered softly from the pleasure, which signified a normal sensory response. Satisfied with her performance, I withdrew and wiped a bead of drool from my patient’s lower lip. 

“So, am I alright?” She asked. 

“Your oral response seems healthy for a woman your age. But I can’t say for sure until I finish my examination.” 

She blushed, the rosey pink running down into her neck. “Yes, of course Dr. Kumar. Please continue.”

I could see Greg grinning beside us. Not sure what he found so amusing, I was just conducting a standard physical exam. I resolved not to let him distract me. “Now I need to inspect your mammary glands. Catherine, would you please remove your corset?” 

Her eyes darted between Greg and I. “Is that really ok, Doctor?” 

I laid a hand on her shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m your primary care physician and Greg is our Master. It’s perfectly natural to be naked around either of us.”  Dimly, I realized that I’d fully accepted Greg as Catherine’s Master, which had been making me uneasy before. 

“Oh, ok. I’ll take it off then.” She started fiddling with the lattice of lavender ribbons that criss crossed her chest. “Excuse me, Doctor Kumar. Would you mind helping me? There are so many of these little bows.” 

“Certainly.” I began undoing the row of ribbons that ran down her back. She shivered, suppressing a laugh as my fingertips brushed her side. Together we teased the corset free and let it fall to the carpet. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Greg staring at Catherine’s pert breasts. But of course, it was all part of the exam, so I didn’t give it another thought. Instead I reached out and cupped her right breast. “How does that feel?”

“Oh. Uh well . . . I don’t know if I should say,” she murmured. 

“Catherine, this is a medical procedure. You have to tell me exactly how you’re feeling or I can’t properly evaluate your health.”

“Ok. It just feels nice is all. I don’t want you to let go. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before.” 

“See, that wasn’t so hard to say. I can assure you all these feelings are a perfectly natural response to physical stimulation. Now take a deep breath.” Her chest rose and fell naturally with no sign of fluid build ups or blockages. Besides, her breast felt firm and perky. I gave it a small squeeze. 

She let out a little squeak. “That feels very good.” 

“Excellent. How about this.” I pinched the bud of her nipple between my index finger and thumb. Her mammilla hardened quickly at the touch, even faster than one might expect.

“Mmmmm,” she purred. 

“Sensitivity seems a little high, but not to concerning levels. Just keep an eye on it.”

“Yes. . . Mmmm . . . Doctor. I’ll pay very close attention to it,” she said, leaned into my touch. 

“That’s very good,” I released my grip and brushed across her areola as I let go. “Now we’re almost done. I just have to test your orgasm response and we’ll be all set. Please take your panties off.”

Her eyes darted to Greg again, but she didn’t complain. She just hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled her panties down her stocking clad legs. The pale tone of her flesh gave way to a warm pink of her vulva. I took a moment to appreciate her lithe figure before running my hand down to her vestibule. 

Catherine arched her back as my fingertip traced her clitoris. There was that high sensitivity again. It was probably nothing to worry about though. “Are you doing ok?” 

“Oh . . . Oh . . . Yes Dr. Kumar. I’m doing very well,” she cooed. 

I moved my focus to the introitus and inserted one finger into her canal. I immediately noticed a high build up of vaginal transudate. “Catherine, you’re very wet. Are you turned on right now?” 

“Yes Doctor. I’m so horny, Doctor. Oh . . . Is that ok to . . . Mmmm . . . Say?” 

“As I said, you can tell me anything and it’ll stay in strict confidence. Now how does it feel when I do this?” I pushed her labia aside and inserted a second finger, before slowly pumping in and out. 

Her response was immediate. The muscles of her canal clenched around my finger. Her hips started rocking back and forth. Her breathing tightened. “Hhhyyymmmhhh. Feels sooo gooood.” 

I accelerated my pace and her trembling accelerated along with it. “Please, don’t stop, Doctor.”

I didn’t. I kept plunging in and out until I felt her muscle contractions spasm. Her hand dug into my leg as she came. I noticed the expected involuntary muscle contractions and shortness of breath. I observed carefully, monitoring for any abnormalities in her reaction, but found none. “And we’re done. Looks like you get a clean bill of health. See, not so bad.”

She slumped onto the couch. “That was wonderful. Why haven’t all my check ups been like this?” she sighed. 

That didn’t add up. “What are you talking about? That was just a standard physical.” Then the suggestion lifted and I understood exactly what I’d just done. Now my cheeks were the ones flushing as I buried my head in my hands. “Master!?” 

Greg wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t be mad. You wanted to help and this seemed like the best way I could think of.” 

“I wanted to help free her, not get her off.” 

“Catherine, do you feel helped?” 

Pure bliss radiated from her voice. “Oh, yes Master.” Then she lifted herself up and started rubbing my back through my bathrobe. “Thank you for my exam Doctor. I feel so much better.” 

“But, but, but . . .” I stammered. 

“You don’t have to fix everything Prya. You can rely on me now. And don’t write off pleasure as a way to make a difference. Catherine was scared and disoriented before, but look at her now.” 

I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to say that you don’t get a Doctor of Medicine degree by giving people pleasure. But looking at the dopey smile on Catherine’s face, I couldn’t help but feel like he had a point. “Yeah, maybe there’s something to that.” 

Jordan

Jordan had burned through everything on the flash drive and then stayed up writing her article. It was a bombshell, packed full of accusations and evidence. Even now, the adrenaline of her discovery kept her going. She waited outside her editor’s office, looking back through the files again, hand shaking on the keyboard. 

Even just this one string of emails sent a chill down Jordan’s spine. But she knew without a doubt that this would be the most important story she would ever write. 

It had been so long since she’d written a serious piece, Jordan had almost forgotten this rush, this thrill, the reason she got into the business in the first place. Finally she would hold people with power responsible for their abuses. 

The door to Reese’s office swung open and one of her colleagues exited. “Jordan, please come in.” 

She closed her laptop and hustled inside. Reese sat behind a laminate desk, nervously running a hand through his thinning hair. A row of windows lined the back wall, silhouetting the portly man against the morning sun. “Jesus Jordan, you’re looking rough,” he said as she entered. 

“Nice to see you too, Reese. Let’s see how you look after an all nighter. Besides, if you’ve read the Atlus piece, I think you’d understand.” 

“Yeah, I read it. If it’s legit, it’ll be the biggest story The Camden Tribune has ever run. You’re serious? You trust your source?” he asked, running his hand through his hair again. 

“I do,” Jordan said with confidence. “So, you’ll run it then?” 

“Publishing a story like this about a Fortune 500 company would be like headbutting a hornet’s nest in the middle of a hurricane,” he muttered. His face wrinkled around his pensive frown. 

“That wasn’t a no,” she said with a smile. 

He turned his back to her and stared down at the street below, pausing before he spoke. “We'll run it. But I need to talk to your source. I can’t shoot a slingshot at the eye of a giant based on just your word, kid.”  

Jordan lit up. “Great. I’ll talk to them and arrange a meeting.” After reviewing a few points of the article, Jordan left to finally get some rest. 

Reese turned back to the window, watching Jordan walk to her car. He went to run his hand through his hair again, but this time he stopped, squeezing his graying locks with trembling fingers. Finally he ripped a section of hair out, before slamming his hand to his desk. He picked up his phone and dialed. 

“It’s me. . . No, I know that. This IS an emergency. Tell Mistress we have a problem.”