Brooke was waiting for you. It wasn’t a surprise, really, but… well, yeah. It was a surprise. Sure, she’d agreed to spend her day off listening to that recording you made. And you knew she was into the whole idea, the whole “this will brainwash you into my slave” game, but… still.
As eager as you were to come home at the end of the day, nervous to see whether she actually took you up on it, humoured you, whether she actually liked the recording after all, or whether you’d have to move out…
You didn’t really let yourself believe the suggestions would take hold. Or, anyway, that she’d choose to follow them. But, sure enough, when you opened the townhouse door the lights were down low, and a pot of your favourite tea was waiting on the table. It was still hot; she must have put it on right after you sent the text that said “See you soon, babe.”
You know, the text that was supposed to “activate” her new “programming”. You would have been fine with it if it hadn’t, of course. It was just a silly game.
Brooke was nowhere to be seen on the ground floor. You had to bite your tongue to keep from calling out for her. Now you were daring to hope. Now you were getting excited… in more ways than one.
Was she upstairs? The way you’d said?
It took effort to sit in the chair and relax and drink the tea. The tea she’d prepared for you. For your pleasure and relaxation after a hard day at the office. Just like a good little housewife. She’d had the whole day off, and you’d both loved the idea of "brainwashing" her into doing all the little chores she never found time to do.
You looked around. The house was tidier than you’d left it that morning. You savoured the tea. The only thing that was missing was a sexy little minx rubbing your shoulders and asking how your day went in that sweet submissive voice she teased you with. The idea made you smile. A suggestion for the next recording.
The excitement surged as you climbed the stairs. The bedroom door was closed, and, as you got closer, you could hear faint sounds. She was in the there, and now you could start to believe…
You opened the door, and there she was. Just like you’d programmed her to be.
“Brooke?”
“Yes, Master?”
It wasn’t easy to resist running to the bed and leaping on top of her, but you made yourself undress first, never taking your eyes from your flatmate-turned-plaything.
“I think I’ll have to make more recordings.”
You stumped across the bed on your knees and she slid into your arms, warm and pliant. Your lips met, touched, explored.
“Yes, please, Master.” Brooke said. “I want every day to go just like today.”