You sigh as you relax into your beach chair, the heat of the sun sinking deep into you. The cruise was an exceptional idea. You’ve been stressed for so long you had almost forgotten what carelessly relaxing really felt like. The cool ocean breeze, warm sun, and drink in your hand were quickly reminding you though.

From the upper deck, you had an easy vantage of the pool that stretched across the main deck below. It was easy to let your mind drift as you watched the crowd below mill about, swimming, talking, playing tag. The only distraction was the jumbotron on the wall opposite your deck playing a reel of advertisements, event dates, and b-roll of tropical vistas. Why in the world would you want to look at over-saturated footage while experiencing the real thing?

Before your mind could start picking apart exactly what perverse incentive could have led to this particular late-capitalist eyesore, your partner sauntered up beside you brushing her hip against your shoulder and trailing her fingers along the back of your neck. You looked up in slight surprise to see her smirking down at you. In her sunhat and shades, haloed by the bright sun behind her, she seemed to radiate confidence.

“You want your drink?” she asks, her smirk widening as she shifts her hips and raises the glass into your view.

Blushing, mouth slightly agape, you stammer an affirmative and take the glass. Setting down your last, quarter-full drink.

“Oh, don’t let it go to waste,” she chides. “Finish it.”

You smile and lift an eyebrow. As you part your lips to protest, she places a finger over your mouth.

“You’re going to enjoy yourself,” she says firmly, pressing down gently, trailing the pad of her index against the soft flesh of your lips.

You laugh and finish your drink quickly. The dizzy buzz that follows is a little more than you expected, but it blends so well with the fuzzy warm sensation of sunbathing that you find it hard to care.

“Good pet,” she coos, causing your heart to skip a beat.

After a year of play together, that phrase was nearly hardwired into your brain, fused with sensations of subby bliss. The last three nights together brought your reaction into even sharper focus. Shifting in your seat, you wondered if anyone could see you. You were directly in front of the upper deck’s railing with several rows of chairs behind you. The back of your chair wouldn’t provide much privacy if someone cared to watch.

Your partner pulled another chair next to yours with a soft scrap before settling next to you. She leans closer resting on one elbow, her smirk widening into a grin.

“What?” you protest.

“You’re cute when you blush. I can’t wait to see your reactions to what I have planned later.”

Your eyes narrow. “What plans?”

“That would be telling.” She shifts back into her chair and trails her fingers along your neck. “Enjoy your drink.”

You shift again, the heat in your cheeks growing.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself,” she coos as she continues to trail her nails along your neck and shoulder sending shivering ripples of excitement through your body. You sigh and sink into your chair

“Good pet,” she coos approvingly as you melt further into your chair.

Taking another long sip from your drink, you float on the mix of fuzzy sensations.

“Oh, is someone getting a little drop-y? Are you really that easy to control?” she asks in a low teasing tone.

You try to shake your head clear. Blinking away the haze of trance and alcohol.

“Oh?” Her voice lilts higher as she sees you struggle. “Haha, what a good pet. Struggling is so hard for me, even though you’re soooo weak.” She's speaking in a mocking baby voice now. It ought to irk you, but it only makes you blush harder as your pulse races. She leans in close to whisper in your ear, “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that. I haven’t even started.”

She leans back again observing you with a smirk as you shake your head still trying to dislodge the cotton.

“Good pet. Try hard for me, as hard as you can. I know it’s going to use up allll your energy and make you so weak and floaty, but you’ll do it for me won’t you? Make yourself weak and easy for me? Why don’t you just nod for me and say ‘I’m easy to control?’”

Her lilting taunt sends a wave of heat through your cheeks, and mind, and between your legs. You moan involuntarily but manage a weak, “Noooo.”

She giggles, and suddenly her fingers are weaved in your hair, pulling your head back and brushing tantalizingly against your scalp. She tilts your head towards her. “Goood pet. You are trying hard for me aren’t you? Fighting even though every inch of you is pleading for you to just give up–telling you how good it would be to just admit it and say it. I’m sooo proud of you. Keep fighting, pet.”

A rush of arousal and adrenaline shoots through you as you realize just how strong her hold is on you. Your head is swimming and your thoughts seem to melt one into the other. Every time you try to collect your thoughts, there’s another light tug of her hand on your head, or a taunting laugh, or an unbidden thought of what it would feel like to give in–to lose yourself–melt into mindless, empty, blissful obedience.

You’re dimly aware of her chuckling at you with amusement, and realize you’ve been softly moaning.

“What a good pet–fighting so hard for me. Are you ready to admit it? Tell me, ‘I’m easy to control.’”

Her command rings out in your mind dashing the fragile thoughts you had managed to gather together. You’re at war. Wanting to please by resisting. Wanting to give in to pleasure. “I’m e… nooooo,” you whimper.

“Good pet,” she coos huskily. “I was hoping you’d put up a real challenge. She pulls your ear directly to her mouth causing you to lean into her, craning your neck. “Now, pet, I have something special to show you.”

She tilts your head so you’re gazing over the railing at the deck below, at the crowds milling around the jumbotron. But somethings off about it. The screen of the jumbotron seems fuzzy and distorted. As you watch the over-saturated beach begins to melt into a swirl, a colorful spiral undulating across the screen. You look closer trying to resolve the image back into the beach vista it was a moment ago, but the only spiral only grows in clarity and intensity, an overwhelming swirl of color you can’t seem to look away from.

“Good pet, just stare. Just let your thoughts melt away,” she coos in your ear.

You can feel your jaw going slack and the muscles in your neck relaxing, you know on some level what’s happening, but forming a coherent thought is beyond you now. You have a distant sense that you’re supposed to be doing something. There’s something you’ve forgotten. It’s too far though. A small voice lost in a storm of bliss.

“Now,” she says, calmly and firmly. “Say, ‘I’m easy to control.’”

“I’m easy to control,” you repeat immediately, your voice a distant, high, mono-tone.

“Good pet.”