Temporary Setback
Ellen was all smiles when her husband Harrison stepped out of the master bedroom, wearing nothing but a cute black ribboned apron with the words “mindless bitch” embroidered in big, bold golden letters.
“You look wonderful” She clapped her hands enthusiastically as if she were watching the greatest show on Earth. “Not that I had any doubt you would. This is the role you were born to play.”
“I don’t see it.” The full thick chestnut beard mid-forties journalist replied. “Can I go change now?”
“Of course not!” Ellen feigned shock. “That is your uniform now, the only thing I allow you to have on when in my presence! Unless you prefer the lilac model...”
“Look, honey, I know this whole femdom humiliation rocks your boat but I...”
“Hold that thought.” She raised a finger to his wrinkled forehead. “My boat? No, dear. Our boat. You’re the one that told me you wanted to try these things. Now that I’m having the fun of a lifetime, you can’t simply back out. Not until you give me everything I want.”
“There you go again! You keep saying I convinced you to do this, but that’s absurd. You mentioned it time and time again. You bought the outfits! You decided we had to play! I don’t like this. You need to stop.”
Her finger gently rocked before his perturbed gaze, a pendulum asking for attention. Tracing its outline was enough to still the randomness of his thoughts. She just needed to make him focus on what was important—her.
“Easy now... you’re losing yourself.” She cooed. “You’re resisting your natural state, the genetic core of male programming. Why do you do this to yourself, sweetie? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want to make me happy?”
“Not if that makes me miserable and this...”
“... is a temporary setback, a glitch in your memories. You can never be unhappy when you’re doing what I want because I control you. I own that cock and every little thing you dare think with it. Don’t think. Remember who I am but, most especially, who you have always been for me. Harrison is not here, only the maid is. Harrison is not here, only the maid exists. Exist for me.” Her hand brushed his fluttering eyelids as he followed her down the hypnotic rabbit’s hole one more time. It was getting deeper and deeper, a chasm almost impossible to climb back from.
“Your maid is ready to serve you, Mistress. May I bring you some tea?” He droned.
“Yes, you may. Matcha, please, and don’t forget the honey.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Maid Harrison trailed off to the kitchen as Ellen grabbed her phone to jot down some notes. After three months of intense conditioning, brainwashing, and memory readjustment, his moments of resistance were barely significant, an average of ten minutes every seventy-two hours, or 0.23% every three days. While a perfect zero was surely possible, she wouldn’t go so far. Breaking her favorite mind-controlled toy regularly was infinitely more appealing than not having to lift a finger. She couldn’t wait to convince him again.
Until then, she would drink her tea, spank his naked ass and force him to suck her heels, though not necessarily in this order. The weekend was just getting started.