Feminine Allure Pt. 12-13

[Revelations]

I have to know now.

After all the sleep I got yesterday from concerned insistence, it kind of dawned on me that unpleasant things like that can be inevitable.

I can't help it. The part of me that loves what Mistress does to me wants me to ask her to whisk away the world for good, where I'm only aware of her and little else. But that majority would never fully silence the nagging sensation that there's something else about our arrangement.

I still work at UnEng while filling out applications elsewhere; the resignation letter had been contingent on me completing my duties in the project before I left or was terminated. No special order had come from anyone about that issue, so I'm just operating like normal, and never letting myself lose sleep over the job or letting it stress me out anymore.

The pressing issue in my mind, I want to bring it up with Mistress. As much as she likes me being candid, she wants it too I think. And then, since the first night I can remember being with her, something remains hidden from me, purposefully. I'm not sure who exactly this issue could hurt more if it comes out; if she really wants things out in the open, it's hurting us both. I've often wondered if this is something I'm supposed to forget; something that Mistress has tried to suppress one way or another. Unlikely, maybe. I wish I was content enough to let this go, to just continue on as whatever she wants us to be. I've had no real reason to complain till now. Then again, I see myself kneeling before her, asking for her hand in marriage, followed by the fear of her admitting to me that this won't last that long for whatever reason, and the sorrow and memory of that experience wiped away from my memory.

Looking down at the dinner reservations for two I just made, I place it on the wall near the black and white photo of the red-lipsticked woman. I want to pretend it's Mistress and profess how much I love her, how much I need her, and that I'm willing to do whatever makes her happy. But the foolish changed man in me starts to dial her cellphone number and inform her of the dinner plans.

The night of our dinner, I arrive at her place 20 minutes early, asking myself over and over again how this should play out, if at all. I don't have to be honest with myself tonight, but I know there's a good chance I will be. I'm so deep in thought that I don't even notice Her until she's knocking on the passenger window. I get out and mutter something about beauty and her dress, and she smiles deeply, getting me slightly weak in the knees. I move toward her side to open the door for her, she holds my cheek and kisses it before getting in, not making it any easier for me. Neither of us says anything as I drive; she looks comfortable enough to just enjoy the surprise. I didn't tell her where we were going; her favorite French restaurant should be surprise enough. The way her face lights up as we arrive, it paid off.

You'd swear it was Valentine's day as full as the restaurant is, with the dance floor very active tonight. The way she looks out at it, I know I'll be asking her to dance sometime tonight. From the moment we sit and our orders are taken, I just start speaking causally to her, about her week, the weather, everything but what I brought her here to talk to her about. When she finally asks me something, I shut up completely.

"So you came to get me earlier than expected; you barely noticed me when I approached you, which is a first," she says playfully. She doesn't let me apologize and asks "What had you so deep in thought?"

I'm looking down after looking at her face, filled with the rising need to chicken out.

"It must be important for all you're trying to do to avoid it."

I'm still silent, prompting her to take my hands in hers and make me look up at her again.

"I'd like my Subject to be talkative again; it would please me greatly to hear what's on your mind."

"You might need to hypnotize me for that."

"What makes you think you're not under my spell already?"

"Because this would be the last thing on my mind if I was."

Squeezing my hands firmer, I hear "now you HAVE to tell me."

I look over at the people dancing and envy those who look so happy that the don't need words to convey feelings.

"Would dancing help you be more forthcoming?"

"No..it's..........why me?"

Her puzzled look makes me go on. "Why are you with me? Of all men, I think the most bewitching woman in existence could clearly have anyone she wants. Maybe you see something in me that I don't see, but that still doesn't mean there aren't better men who couldn't do for you."

Now she's looking at me strange, like I've trigger something in her now. "...why do you love that question so much?"

I really don't remember asking her that question all the time; I doubt it's something I'd ask deep in trance. When I ask her about it, she gets silent again, and I have to delve deeper.

"What are you hiding from me?"

Now her look borders on surprised.

"Mistress, I know something is up. Whatever it is you're hiding, I'm really curious to know now. I've tried to forget it, tried to let being with you ride out as long as it can, but what scares me the more than that is knowing one day this could all end. Whatever this secret is, I'll bet it's designed to shield that end."

I firmly grasp her hands as much as she does mine, and I kiss hers.

"The truth is, I know you don't have to tell me anything, and can probably erase this night from my memory, and eventually reinforce whatever you're hiding. I can't stop that, and I won't. I trust you with myself. I...love you. I really love you. I want to marry you someday. I want a life with you. This has all been a dream, and I don't care if I wake up, as long as you're there somehow. But like I said, I know you have the power to do what you will with me; you even have my permission. I just needed to tell you that. If tonight is our last night, if the adventure is over, I hope I can dance with you before it's over, something to remember this by."

A single tear ran down her eye. I try to wipe it away, but she doesn't let go of my hands. She kisses the back of my hand, and takes a long look at me, searching my face for something. When she finds something, she takes my left hands and intertwines the fingers with hers. She kisses around the base of my fingers, and the weirdest sensation comes over my hand.

Something metal circling my finger.

I stopped breathing when I notice a similar band around Mistress's fingers, pressing against mine.

I start breathing sharp breaths, and one feels like it's going down the wrong pipe. I cough deeply and excuse myself to the bathroom and gracefully as I can, leaving Mistress at our table.

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[Revelations Continued]

A bathroom stall at this point feels like the most pathetic place to be right now; the biggest revelation of my life revealed to me, and my response is to head straight to the restroom to bury my face in my hands, really to keep other guys from watching me cry.

At least they'd be tears of joy.

But also, once I was physically and emotionally aware of my wedding band, our wedding bands, so many more blocked memories came back with that. I was more or less the same workaholic, trying to balance marriage and work. We both were actually, just different fields. It was sometime after the marriage that her hypnotherapy practice had finally gotten off the ground. Fortunately for her though, she had much more manageable hours, and wanted to spend those off hours with me. Amy, or Mistress as I still wanted to call her, knew I was dedicated to her, but the long hours started to hurt things. She understood that this was a job I was proud to be working on, being environmentally concerned all the time. Despite the family money she came from, I wanted to not ever rely on that. Many men she'd dated were either pre-approved by her father or already knew about her money. I was just lucky to be the first to care about just her. Amy's father and sister (Ms. Skeptic - makes so much sense now) were the hardest to convince that I was worthy, but they came to accept me, even after the separation.

Moving from Philly to San Francisco wasn't easy, especially when it was going to be just me. If it wasn't for her practice, she would've come along with me. We argued about the time we barely spent together, how realistically things weren't going to get any easier. Amy knew I already took the job, before we started arguing, so naturally she was the one to suggest the trial separation. As much as it hurt to hear her suggest it, I shouldn't have been surprised. Neither of us wanted to see other people, and basically the separation would last as long as the project in SF was supposed to last. Three months, which turned into nine months. And a once a week phone call.

I was a lousy husband. Even worse, I was a lousy husband for a job ready to take my employment and my marriage. Comparing the man I've been with the subject she wanted me to be is what's making me walk out of the bathroom now, to at least tell her what she deserves.

She's still sitting at our table, sullen-looking. I take her hand and lift her out of her seat, giving her the most passionate kiss I could. It feels like she's losing herself in the kiss as she lets me lead it. I break the kiss to ask her to dance with me, and lead her into the floor. A new song is playing slowly, allowing me to whisper in her ear.

"I'm sorry Amy. I haven't been a very good husband. I let work get in-between us, and I guess with what's coming I'm getting what I deserve, losing work, and losing you, which hurts more than you'll ever know. I need to thank you for being my Mistress, for however long that was. I've never felt so detached from myself and so in-tune with my own desires. Looking back on all of it, it feels like a reward, but a reward for a husband who treated you right, and didn't neglect you; not me. I know I want us to keep going, and can only promise to be, well, whatever you want me to be. When you took control of me that night and made me sleep, I don't ever remember you being so possessive of me; if you'll still have me, I don't want that to stop. Please Amy, Mistress, keep me."

What I hear and what I feel on my shoulder tells me more tears are streaming down her face. I kiss her and kiss away the tears as delicately as possible. Her hand brings my neck down to her shoulder as she now whispers in my ear.

"As long as we're being totally candid, after you left for San Francisco, the idea bounced in my head several times of going further than just a separation. It was a rash idea, but it kept coming back. I had another rash idea after nine of the longest months of my life, to take a short sabbatical at work, and pay a visit to Julie, or Ms. Skeptic as you know her, and stay with her for a week or so. Truthfully though, I came to see you. I saw you, and unethically used my expertise to drive you into a deep trance. You've always been blissfully ignorant about what I could do with hypnosis, so it was easy to lead you where you never expected to go. I wanted to see how you reacted while you were under, to the possibility of having our marriage off your shoulders. What I didn't expect was for you to become aroused, and deeply aroused the deeper you sank. Is that something you've been hiding from me?"

"I didn't mean to hide it from you. I was just never sure how you'd take me sort of liking hypnosis like that. You never talked about using it other than for serious, professional use; and I didn't want you to think that's why I got together with you in the first place. I loved you, not what you could do. I love you."

We both notice the tune change, and another slow song is playing. She continues.

"Needless to say, I was surprised how your arousal and hypnotized state went hand-in-hand. I took it so far, I think I entered a light trance myself, and gave us a little scenario to play out. I made it like you'd seen me for the first time, like a very lucid dream. The way you looked at me, touched me, I'd never seen you so pliant. I wanted more, and I took as much as I could get of you, even if it was another, repressed side of you. If our marriage was going to end, I wanted one more night with you. It just turned into one night after another."

"Please tell me the marriage isn't over," I whisper pleadingly into her ear.

She looks at me calmly before answering. "The decision rests with me, and only me?"

I look back and give my answer serious thought. "No, not with just you. I let you decide on the trial separation, but I agreed to it, when I should've fought like hell to convince you otherwise. I should've quit, done something. I didn't even try to fight for us, and that's a mistake I'll never make again. It's our decision, but I've already said yes."

Her calm look slowly becomes a smile, as mine does, and she holds my face in her hands. "Such a wise Subject I have."

I bring her into a hug as we stop dancing, surprising a nearby couple. But they look to us with understanding smiles. The music stops and I lead her back to our table, where our food has been sitting, and getting a little cold, so we waste no time in digging in.

"I've wondered about that."

"About what?"

"Me being a subject. In this circumstance, I'd expect slave more so, or love slave or something."

"Well, first of all, slave isn't an attractive title for me. And second, I've always dreamed of being a queen, having a court full of subjects in my kingdom, so that's where that word came from."

It grates me a little bit, to imagine I'm not her only subject. "How many subjects do you plan on having?"

"I could have dozens, but it's much easier to have one that already meets my every need. The queen is very satisfied with her court of one."

"Well, my Queen and Mistress, please continue to inform me of what is desired within the Queen's court."

We both ordered salads, so we were already finished with dinner. Now I'm hungry for something else as I reach for her hand and kiss her wrist, palm and back of her hand.

Her giggling makes me press my lips deeper and longer onto her skin, until she moves her hand out of my grasp to hold my cheek.

"Your Queen and Mistress would like to inform you of something on behalf of her desires for the court. Are you prepared to listen, with all that you are?"

"I'm at your service."

"Excellent Subject," she says while she holds up her ring, admiring the golden band in particular. It's beautiful how it glints against the soft candle light at our table.

"You know, I've always loved the band that matches what you have the most. The diamond is beautiful of course, and I love it, but the band reminds me so much of you. We share the same band and I love knowing that you wear something identical to me, connecting us. When you look at your band, do you think of me?"

"Always. I think of how lucky I am to find such a wonderful woman, to be this much in love, and to know that that love is shared."

"Exactly, every time I look at it, I imagine a warm feeling of love coming over me like a blanket, or a wave of some sort. I especially love how it can catch light and reflect it. Can you see that? Do you see any light reflecting on the band?"

"Candle light."

"Indeed, warm, glowy candle light reflecting of the band, making it so shiny, giving warmth to my heart, to our hearts, to your heart. Such a comfortable, perfect warmth, perfectly placed between hot and cool. Do you feel it?"

"Yes.."

"Doesn't it feel nice, to focus on that light as well? Whenever I see that golden shine, I always give myself a few minutes to get lost in it, and reflect on you. How wonderful you make me feel, how loyal you are, how your eyes and words make me feel like the sexiest, sometimes the only woman alive. Sometimes I want to look at it as often as possible, for as long as possible when you're not there. When the time is right, it's simply irresistible."

"I...irr..esistible."

"Yes, irresistible." Her band is moving closer and closer to my face; I love it, because I need to stare deeper into it.

"As you gaze deeply at the band dear Subject, watching light reflect into your eyes, I want you to start reflecting on me. Reflect on Amy, your Queen, your Mistress, your wife. See all that she is, everything about her; feel her around your ring finger, and deeply in your heart and mind. You're in love with her aren't you?"

"Yes," I hear myself speak almost huskily.

"Just as she is yours, you are Hers. She is your Mistress, you are Her Subject. You always show care and concern for each other. You both strive to support each other, and should continue to do so. You look to care for the well-being of one another, and will each take good care of yourselves, however you need to. You both wish to be open and communicate what you are feeling to each other; you trust your feelings with one another and can be honest. And when the time is right, and Mistress feels the desire to feel you succumb to her influence, you feel happy and willing to do exactly as she says. Her commands yield so much pleasure when you obey her. So many wonderful places you can go together in trance, my lovely art gallery, the lecture hall mesmerized by my feminine allure."

Coming back to myself for a brief second, I feel the need to kiss her band before staring deeply at it again, hoping she takes that as a sign of submission.

"Thank you Subject, that warms my heart so well. Does it warm yours?"

Nodding my head works better as I can stay still and enjoy the warmth of her trance.

"In the future, when you have no distractions, when you're not driving, working, or doing anything important, and you are alone, if you happen to look down at your wedding band, I want you to touch it and reflect on me and all the feelings you associate with me. Keep this sensation deep in your mind, and remember it when your subconscious wants you to remember. There's no rush to do so. Do you understand?"

Thank god for nodding.

"Now, I would like you to kiss my band one more time before you wake up from trance. After that kiss, you will slowly come back to full awareness, awake and feeling wonderful."

I kiss as instructed, and my eyes blink like they're trying to wake up, but I know my eyes have been open.

"Never stop doing that."

"What?"

"Hypnotizing me."

"I think that can be arranged."

We finally ask for the check, and depart the restaurant hand-in-hand.

"Are you going to be ok with work?" she asks.

"Don't know. I sent in the resignation, on the condition that it is acknowledged once my duties are over. Don't worry; I'm not losing any more sleep over this."

"That's good news, finally." She wraps her arms around me for a wonderful hug.

"Work will work itself out; I just don't want to go at it alone anymore."

She catches my meaning, and we drive away to share a wonderful night together, husband and wife, Mistress and Subject.

Life is good.

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[Epilogue]

What a difference two weeks can make.

We're just getting back from a trip to a French restaurant that's new to for both of us. This time it's in Paris.

Earlier I enjoyed speaking at length about the luck bestowed upon me. The first and only sign of a response to that letter was directly from the president himself. Long-story short, he already had his suspicions about Sam Penn, and the information I detailed to him was what he needed to confirm them. Apparently the president was neither dumb, deaf, and blind, or in on it, just absent and looking to possibly expand with other investors as well. The president revealed things in confidence I never expected Penn to be capable of, but he was. Before any suspicions arose, Penn was going to be offered a very lucrative position with the successful completion of the new engine. Needless to say, he was no longer eligible for it. Even stranger was his declining to accept my resignation, but giving me the lucrative job. UnEng ended up owning more of Trode instead of the other way around, thanks to great financial backing and maneuvering from the president.