Patrick Wilkins sat by the L-shaped pool at the back of Mistress Octavia’s Manor, waiting for the hostess to meet him there. A traditional reporter, the mid-thirties man with an already unusually long receding hairline, was “armed” with a black pen and a notepad of the same color in which he had already written all the questions he wanted to ask her. The rare interview - the first of its kind! - was to last between fifteen to twenty minutes, no more, and he had to make them worthwhile. His readers were counting on him to shed some light on the mysterious woman that had taken the world of hypnotic entertainment by storm, and disappointing those that religiously followed him was disappointing himself, too.

Somewhere in a parallel universe, there was an alternate version of him who was obsessed with fame and hundreds of thousands of clicks per month, but not in this one. He didn’t chase fame nor dreams of perpetual popularity - simply good stories and the people that made them a reality. From everything he had gathered about her since the beginning of the year, Mistress Octavia was one, and given what she did for a living, she was sure to have many other tales to tell.

The sun was slowly starting to decline on the horizon when a tall, Nubian woman, wearing a long, asymmetrical gold dress befitting of royalty, stepped outside, accompanied by a cheeky Pekingese that loved to bark almost as much as throwing itself at her feet. Mistress Octavia’s perfect toes were adorned by Roman-like sandals with crisscrossed straps going all the way up her calves. The few pictures he had seen of her online didn’t do this elegant Amazon justice. She was at least ten times more striking than his first impression with the numbers going up as she closed the distance between them. Slightly befuddled by her beauty, he stood up and greeted her, saying,

“Good afternoon, Mistress Octavia, and thank you for agreeing to talk to me today.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied in a surprisingly warm British accent. “It’s nice to meet you, Patrick. I’ve been following your column for a while now. I especially enjoyed your article about the growing challenges of sex work in digital times. It was quite poignant.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you were a fan. That actually gives me extra motivation for today’s interview.”

“Is that so?” Mistress Octavia nodded and took her seat on a white chaise longue while her beloved pet sniffed his khaki pants. “Otto, please leave him alone,” she said.

“That’s okay, I love dogs.”

“And he loves people even though we don’t get many visitors around here.”

“Does he bite?”

“Only if you bite him first, so please don’t,” she chuckled. “Please, take a seat so we can get this started.”

“Certainly, and thank you once more for sharing your time with me however short it may be.”

“I wouldn’t mind offering more, but I’m a busy woman and my schedule is already starting to get out of hand. I trust you’ve prepared accordingly for the limitations at hand.”

“I have, so I’ll get down to business immediately.” He sat once more and flipped the pages to the middle of the notepad. “Mistress Octavia, for years the erotic hypnosis community has been marginalized by society but most especially by the largest social networks around. The multi-million dollar companies, in their ever-increasing pursuit for content homogenization, have been making it harder and harder to promote anything that they deem unsavory or problematic, and yet you came along and started shifting the paradigm for the better. How does it feel to be the voice that’s making hypnotic femdom go mainstream?”

Mistress Octavia raised a quizzical eyebrow and stretched herself on the seat, traces of fiery red and yellow kissing her long legs.

“That’s quite the opening question, but one I’m afraid doesn’t correspond to the truth. I believe we’re still a long way from reaching mainstream status and I honestly don’t feel like I’m more important than any of the other beautiful women who promote the craft daily but didn’t catch the media’s eye yet. If anything, I just got lucky with everything that transpired in recent months.”

“You’re being incredibly modest, I’m sure, but when you say ‘lucky’, are you implying you wouldn’t be as successful as you are today were it not for the words of rapper D$llarBoy at the last Grammy Awards? What was the impact of his compliments about your work and personality in the reality you’re experiencing today?”

“That’s hard to quantify, but yes, I’m convinced this explosion in popularity wouldn’t have happened without his public confession. I’ve known him for a decade now and always said to myself he was capable of major accomplishments, but this was beyond everyone’s wildest dreams. I’m happy for him. He’s a wonderful man.”

“Everyone that works with him says the same thing. Is it true that in a way you taught him how to sing?”

“No, it’s not,” she let out a confident laugh. “The only thing I did was help him find the confidence to release his inner voice. I really don’t want to take credit for anything that happened after that, because that makes no sense. The marvels he pulled off in that album are all his, his inspiration, and his imagination at work, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds in store for him now.”

Patrick scribbled some notes in his characteristically obtuse handwriting that wouldn’t look out of place in a doctor’s prescription and glanced at her delicate arches in silence. Tapping his left foot on the checkered tiles of the pool’s decking, he asked,

“From everything you’ve told me so far, am I correct to assume you don’t like the term ‘Hypnodomme’ then? Do you consider yourself more of a Muse than a Mistress in the traditional sense despite using the title?”

“Hmmm, I suppose so, though there’s room for everything in my life. Some people need to see me as an all-powerful deity that can’t be resisted no matter how much they try, while others thrive better with a more laid-back approach. Mistress is an all-encompassing term, but as long as there’s respect involved, I can be a Muse, a Princess, a Goddess... There are even some people that just call me Octavia. It’s not a big deal. What interests me are the endings we’re trying to go for. Everything about what I do relies on team effort and a mutual understanding of each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Without that, no hypnotic suggestion sticks no matter how well thought it is.”

“Interesting...” Patrick checked his notes again and crossed out a series of follow-up questions that suddenly didn’t make sense at all. “I wasn’t expecting such a relaxed way of looking at things, especially not after your entrance.”

“What about my entrance, dear?” she cocked her head to the right. 

“You’re dressed like a Queen and everything about this house screams it’s the residence of one. Such a display of opulence seems at odds with the simplicity of what you’re saying.”

Mistress Octavia wet her lips and rubbed the right her right sandal against the chair’s legs. “Ah, yes... I see what you mean, but I never denied enjoying the finer things in life. The people I’ve worked with over the years have been incredibly generous in their contributions to my lifestyle, but this is not about money and I’ve been blessed with plenty of my own even before D$llarBoy became famous. I never expect gifts or anything like that, but I accept them gladly if they come from the heart and they’re not used as a means of emotional blackmail. It should go without saying, but anyone that tries to pull something like that off doesn’t stay long in my circles.”

“Makes perfect sense. Do you mind if we go back to something you said earlier?”

“Why would I? What’s on your mind?”

“You talked about teamwork as the reason for your hypnotic success, so I was hoping you could elaborate on that. When you agreed to welcome me to your house, I did my research and discovered there are a lot of misconceptions about hypnosis and trance states as a whole, with plenty of people going as far as claiming none of this is real. According to your experience, where is the truth in all of this? Is all hypnosis really self-hypnosis or is there something more keeping it all together?”

“I’m glad you asked that because I never get tired of setting the record straight. Hypnosis is definitely self-hypnosis. What you see in Hollywood movies is a fictionalized version of it that’s almost akin to magic and mysticism and while I believe such constructs have their reason for existing, they’re also extremely dangerous if one doesn’t separate fantasy from reality from the get-go. To look at something differently is the same as understanding it differently. The way I see it, hypnosis has its own language, but its nuances vary from person to person, which reinforces what I said earlier. What works for one person doesn’t work for all of them. To speak this language properly, you need to adjust your ideas, a lot of them on the fly, to produce the desired reaction. It can be quite a simple process or an incredibly complex one because mental states fluctuate all the time. If hypnotist and subject don’t work together, no synchronization of ideas is possible.”

“Have you ever had it happen?”

“Of course. No track record is perfect and relationships evolve. People I was incredibly close with at first turned out to be poor subjects in the long run and vice versa. Sometimes, I misread the signs and on other occasions, they did the same. Nothing that revolves around the mind and the use of our imagination is an exact science. Mistakes happen because they’re a part of life and I don’t trust anyone that doesn’t recognize that.”

“Have you made a lot of mistakes, Mistress Octavia?”

“Oh, I’ve definitely made a few, but I doubt most of your readers will want to know about them.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s breaking the illusion. ‘Hypnotic Mistress Admits to Reporter She’s Only Human’ doesn’t have the same ring as ‘This Hypnodomme Will Bring You to Your Knees Before You Finish Reading this Title’, right?”

“Yes, I’ll give you that. And that’s actually a funny headline.”

“Thank you. Here’s another funny story: I actually worked at a newspaper many years ago.”

“Did you? What happened?”

“I butted heads with the Editor over some creative differences and then realized that wasn’t the life for me. That was one of the many mistakes in my life, but one I learned a lot from.”

“What other jobs did you have before becoming a hypnotic Mistress for the masses?”

“Far too many to remember. I was a waitress, I worked at a Blockbuster... I even tried my luck as a door-to-door saleswoman for a whole Summer. Some experiences were far more pleasant than others of course, but I don’t regret any of them as they all helped shape the woman I am today.”

“That’s a very positive outlook on life,” he smiled.

“Positive is my middle name, Patrick. What about you? Did you always know you wanted to be a journalist growing up?”

“Actually, yes. I was far from imagining I’d be writing stories like these, though.”

“What did you want to write about?”

“Oh, when I was younger, I had this romanticized idea of war in my head and thought it would be cool to be in a conflict zone describing it all as it went down, but I eventually grew out of it. It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“Perhaps not, but you learned something from it as well, didn’t you?”

“I sure did.”

“Again, that’s all that matters.” She leaned forward and picked the fluffy little dog, allowing him to rest against her breasts like a baby in need of attention. Then, she glanced at her watch and said, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems our time is nearly up.”

“Already? I still had so many questions I wanted to ask you! Is there any way we can schedule a follow-up? I don’t care if it takes a week, a month, or more, but I’d love to pick your brain a little more.”

“Hmm, I’m sure you would though picking brains is more my specialty. Like I said at the beginning, my schedule right now is pretty crazy so I don’t know when or if that will be possible, but tell you what: why don’t you take the time left to ask what you’ve been dying to ask since we met?”

“Excuse me?”

Mistress Octavia gently padded the sweet Pekingese and continued, “All the people I talk to, journalists or not, usually have a little something on the back of their minds when they’re face to face with me and I believe you’re no exception so I’m giving you this opportunity to come clean. I already know what the question is, but I would still like to hear it from you, so... indulge me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please don’t play dumb with me. I’ve given you nothing but honest answers so far, so I expect the same courtesy. This may be your only opportunity to ask, so I suggest you don’t waste it.”

“Hmmm...” he muttered. She was right, of course. Talking about hypnosis was already entertaining the possibility of being a part of it and when confronted with such a beautiful and charismatic woman, it was no surprise to think... “Do you think you could hypnotize me?”

“The answer is yes. I could if that’s what you wanted for real, but I’m not entirely sure about that for now.”

“Why not?”

“Because one thing is to be intrigued by it since you’re talking to a woman that usually gets people thinking what she wants them to think - with their consent, obviously! - and another is to move from the curiosity phase to the real deal and not everyone is ready for that.”

“It almost sounds like you’re saying people shouldn’t be hypnotized then.”

“Oh, some definitely shouldn’t! While hypnosis is mostly harmless, there can be consequences, and that’s why I always screen possible clients/subjects thoroughly before engaging in any activity with them. You definitely seem stable enough and if we ever got to play, I already know what thing for you to focus on if I wanted to put you under...” she smiled.

“Okay, now I’m curious.”

“You haven’t stopped staring at my feet since I came to you, dear. Why is that?”

“Well, huh... they’re beautiful. I like the sandals too,” he blushed.

“Hmmm... dare I say you have a little foot fetish going on there? Have you imagined yourself kissing my feet as you were looking at them?”

“That’s an odd question, and I thought I was the one in charge of this interview...” he retorted.

“An easy mistake to make, dear. The problem of becoming worldwide famous overnight is the number of people that suddenly decide they want to get to know you and tell your history to the world. Do you know how many interviews requests I received since the night of the Grammys?”

“Honestly, no.”

“More than two hundred. Now ask yourself how many do you think I agreed to...” she gently uncrossed her legs and dangled her left foot before his confused gaze.

“Surely I wasn’t the only one...” he gasped.

“Another easy mistake to make which begs the final question: yes or no?”

Patrick’s jaw slacked as the impossible question was brought to life and said...