CYOA Wednesday 2024 – Week 46 [A Night to Remember to Forget – 20]

We continue this CYOA tale today. Synopsis below:

Brandon’s friends surprise him by inviting/hiring a hypnodomme to come to his birthday party. What fun happenings will ensue?

The winning option of the nineteenth poll with 76% of the votes was:

She plays with his memories, making him believe he has always been her domestic servant until she wakes him up.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/115954066

Read the twentieth segment below:

As they crossed the threshold into her apartment, a soft sigh escaped Brandon’s lips. The moment he stepped inside, the transformation was palpable – the air thickened with an intoxicating blend of incense and sandalwood, wrapping around him like a silken cocoon. Mistress Susan turned on the lights and a row of lightbulbs imitating flickering candles lit up the walls. The trembling illumination created a dance of shadows that seemed to sway to the rhythm of his entranced heartbeat.

The hypnodomme led him deeper into her domain, the polished wooden floor underfoot gleaming with a warmth that beckoned him forward. Walls adorned with dark velvet drapes framed an array of eclectic artworks – each piece whispering secrets of forgotten dreams and wild fantasies. A large canvas hung above a low-slung couch, an abstract explosion of colors that suggested movement and depth, inviting him to lose himself in its depths just as he had lost himself in her hypnotic words.

“Welcome home,” she murmured, guiding him to the center of the room. He felt weightless as if gravity itself had surrendered its hold on him. Soft strains of orchestral music floated through the air, each note weaving a tapestry of enchantment that wrapped around them both.

The furniture was curiously arranged – plush pillows heaped upon the couch created a nest-like retreat, while a sleek glass coffee table showcased an assortment of crystals that shimmered like stars fallen from the heavens. Each gem radiated a different hue; deep amethysts whispered of calmness and clarity, while vibrant emeralds sparkled with promise and joy.

They passed through an archway framed by ivy vines that slithered down the walls like tendrils of magic. Beyond lay her sanctum – a space dedicated to exploration and surrender. The hypnotic chamber was adorned with deep purples and midnight blues, evoking feelings of twilight where mysteries unfolded. An ornate mirror hung on one wall, its gilded edges sparkling under the soft light as if capturing dreams within its reflective surface.

“Look into the mirror, Brandon,” Mistress Susan commanded. He obeyed, his feet moving of their own accord as he approached the shimmering glass. The reflection that greeted him was distorted at first – shadows playing tricks, flickering in and out of reality – but soon it settled into clarity, revealing not just his physical self but an echo of memories swirling in the depths of his eyes.

“What do you see?” she asked, stepping closer, her breath a whisper against his ear. Her presence enveloped him, igniting sparks along his skin as she stood mere inches away. Her fingers brushed against his shoulder, sending shivers cascading down his spine.

“I…” he stammered, caught between the beautiful allure of the room and the magnetic pull of her gaze. “I see… us.”

“Yes.” She leaned in closer, her lips mere inches from his cheek, her voice laced with honeyed authority. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you? Always my loyal servant.” The words poured from her mouth like silk, wrapping around his consciousness and tightening their grip with every syllable.

Brandon’s heartbeat quickened as vivid flashes of imagined memories surged within him – images of moments spent at her feet, laughter shared in secret corners, and whispered commands that lit his soul on fire. “You remember now,” she urged with a firm hand as if there were no room for doubt. “You were made for this… made to serve. You obey me and only me.”

“Yes, Mistress Susan,” he replied, falling deeper under her control.

“Now,” she continued, her voice firm yet seductive, “you will remember every time you’ve kneeled for me, every act of devotion that has led us here. These memories are your world. You exist for my pleasure alone, my beautiful domestic servant. Submitting to your owner is the only thing that matters.”

Brandon’s breath caught in his throat, the weight of her words anchoring him to the moment. Tension filled the room as he perched on the edge of awareness, teetering between reality and the intoxicating dreamscape she had crafted around him. The cool metal of a silver collar brushed against his skin, a tangible symbol of his surrender, radiating a strange sense of belonging that warmed him from within.

“Now,” Mistress Susan declared, her eyes gleaming with unyielding authority, “be my stool.” The request echoed in his mind like a sacred incantation. Without hesitation, he lowered himself to the plush carpet, his heart pounding in rhythm with the delicate notes of the music that danced around them. The fibers were soft against his knees, and he positioned himself as instructed, forming a humble seat for her.

As she settled onto him, her weight grounding yet exhilarating, he could feel every nuance of her presence – her warmth seeping into him like sunlight breaking through clouds on an overcast day. The world beyond faded into a mere whisper; bliss was his once again in this perfect sanctuary.

“Good boy,” she purred. “Nothing but pleasure. Obedience is pleasure, Brandon. You are a good slave for me. You’ve always been my slave.”

“I’ve always been your slave,” he repeated.

She touched the ornate mirror, her fingers dancing along its gilded frame as if summoning magic from within. The reflections shifted again, and he could see kaleidoscopic images forming behind his own eyes – a world where he was no longer a free individual but an extension of her will, devoted for the rest of his life.

Mistress Susan leaned back, her silhouette framed by the ethereal glow of the room. She produced one crystal from the coffee table – a flawless rose quartz that shimmered with an almost mystical allure – and held it up to catch the soft luminescence descending from the lamp above her head. “Look at it and fall even deeper,” she instructed, her voice a soothing melody that resonated deep within him.

As Brandon gazed at the crystal reflecting myriad colors upon their surroundings, he became even more entranced, remembering nothing of who he was before meeting her. The sensation of hypnotic amnesia was both euphoric and comfortable. She stood up, caressed the back of his head, and said,

“Bring me a glass of wine.” The words were simple, yet they carried the weight of her desires, and he needed to comply.

“Yes, Mistress Susan,” he replied as he rose from his kneeling position. The carpet’s plush fibers swished against his skin, a reminder of how deeply intertwined their lives had become. Each step toward the bar felt like traversing a dreamscape, his surroundings blurring into soft hues and gentle whispers of silk.

He approached the carved wooden cabinet that housed an array of exquisite bottles, each one more alluring than the last. His eyes scanned them all until he found a rich Cabernet Sauvignon that sparkled like deep red rubies under the light. As he lifted it, he could feel its weight in his hands; it was a vessel containing not just liquid but a promise of intimacy and celebration under Mistress Susan’s keen gaze. He uncorked the bottle with deft fingers, the pop echoing through the room.

In one fluid motion, he poured the wine into an elegant crystal glass and returned to her, happy to be of service. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake up from his beautiful altered state of mind.

To decide what happens next, head over to my Patreon (you can join for free), and vote on the poll there until next Sunday. 

If you’re new to these CYOA stories, here are the basic rules:

1) You can only choose one option;

2) If there’s a tie at the end of the poll, and the competing options can be combined somehow, I’ll do that. If not, I get the deciding vote to keep the tale going.

3) The process continues every Wednesday until the story runs its natural course.

Have fun.