I remember in the before times people used to talk about the importance of feeling your feelings rather than bottling them up. Perhaps its progress then that I’ve lost track of time rubbing my thighs together, closing my eyes and dreaming of fantasies I cannot in good conscience repeat. After all, even if these visions of utter and total submission, of simply losing myself to the aura of strong men…

Though these thoughts were implanted in me against my will, and even though rationally I dream of the day where I can be free of them, in the here and now I think I was going mad without at least a little indulgence. I just have to hope that these controlled releases are indeed more effective at containing the virus then simple abstin-

Knock knock knock

A: “Sabby? It's me, Alfred.”

Fuck! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I can’t risk being around a man in this state, not even Alfred, it's too dangerous, I can’t, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. 

Ok Sab, calm down, deep breaths time. You can do this. You're strong, you're fierce, you can do this. Just clean your mind a bit, step up and open the-

Knock knock knock

A: “In a half-playful voice: “No need to rush, the weather‘s just beautiful out here”

Fuck. 

S: “I’m coming Alf, just give me a second”

I open the door to see my slightly drenched friend frowning deeply, his mood seeming to be as weighed down by nature’s bath as his body was by the massive travel bags he’d lugged from the van. He’s tall, far more than I am, with a tweed jacket and short, ruffled brown hair looking almost like a crown. I’ve known him since forever and even thought a few times about suggesting taking things in a romantic direction, but some mix of complicated lives and worries of muddling our uncomplicated friendship always kept me. Perhaps that restraint was too much in its time, though now that I’m standing here and having to put all my energy into preventing my knees from buckling I’m sure starting to miss it.-

A: “Hey Sab, I get that my face can be very entertaining but can you please take a moment to scoot out of my way before mother nature drowns me?”

…. “Oh”.

Though I was quick to do what I was told, surrendering the doorway to-

No. Sabrina Rose Hutchins, have some respect for yourself Jesus Hell…

Anyways, as I was saying, even as I voluntarily made the decision to utilize my physical agency for the purpose of facilitating the conditions for a fair dialogue between myself and the co-equal to whom I have chosen to exchange stories, aid and emotions with, I nevertheless felt a small and completely unjustified pang of guilt for the state I had put my friend in. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind a thought formed telling me I should feel guilty for resisting the programming, that the only way to redeem myself was to surrender completely to the man I had taken so much from, to serve him in mind, body, and soul. It felt oddly soothing.  I swatted it away. 

Alfred put the bags down and let out a deep sigh

A: “I’m sorry for snapping at you Sab. I know I’ve been a little on edge these past few days, just going out everyday and seeing the world turning into what it's become, I just, I… 

S: “I’m sorry Alfie. You’ve been nothing but good to me, especially since the payload hit, and I know it can’t be easy to support me when I can’t do anything but hide away. I would understand if you resent me.”

A: “... Sabby?”

S: “If there's anything I can do to balance the scales, please don’t be afraid to tell me.”

Alfred pauses for a moment, his face expressionless. He then grabs my hand with his own, and looks into my eyes

A: “Sabby”

S: “Yes”

A: “Do you remember our last night in the city? Me, you, Jenn, and Oliver all huddled on your sofa, watching the news and devouring our feelings as we waited on confirmation that the payload was real? Do you remember what you said to me?

S: “I said a lot of things that night, I was a mess-”

A: “You did say a lot of things, about how you were scared the payload would brainwash you, and that you were afraid it wouldn’t, and that the knowledge that it was inside of you meant you felt more afraid of yourself than you have in years; but one of the few common threads was that you wanted to be free. You’ve always wanted to be free, to be you, and before that horrible night was over you asked me to help you survive this, told me you trusted me.”

I couldn’t help but break from his gaze, staring down as if physically weighed down by his words. This was, is, my freedom at stake, and I can’t for the life of me keep it together. When I finally got the courage to look up again, I noticed I wasn’t the only one having trouble with looking a best friend in the eye. 

A: “Now, I know you aren’t entirely yourself right now, and I don’t know whether this will help you or just make things worse, but I do know that the part of you that is you wants me to try, made me promise to try.”

S: “Alfie?”

A: “Sabrina Rose Hutchins, by the power invested in me by the payload, I command you to be free. If you must submit, then you shall submit only to my request, no, my order, that you follow no other will but your own, that you keep being the person I've known for all these years rather than some puppet. From this moment forward you are hereby forbidden from falling, my one command is that you hold on to you, no matter the cost.”

I’ve never wanted to cry more. My best friend, the only friend that I’ve seen in months, the person I trusted with everything had just used the payload to give me an order, to give me a command. He’d promised to protect me, help me safeguard my freedom, and instead he had so little faith in me that he’d decided that the only way to do that was to steal it for himself. 

I open my mouth to yell at him, ready to call him out for betraying our friendship, until I hesitate. 

Perhaps he was right. Can I really trust myself right now? At every turn I nearly failed, and he only did what he did to help me, he only did what was best for me. I can’t fault him for that, can I? A few moments ago I was so upset but now?

Somehow everything about this moment just feels right, safe even. 

Perhaps it's my rational mind retaking control from the programming after Alfred’s command, the order to be free finally critically weakening the payload and allowing me to appreciate my friend’s actions? Thanks to Alfie I will be free, free to be me.

I nuzzle up to Alfie with a small purr, and thank him for helping save me from myself. He hugs me back.

Though I didn’t yet know it, Alfie would still be wondering whether he did the right thing for many nights even after my reassurances. As we embrace, the sweet scent of my cherry perfume reminds him of the desires he dares not acknowledge, and he makes a silent prayer that my newfound strength will be as contagious as my weakness once was.