Customer Survey

"You recall the spiral?" Then again in a soft voice, "Can you see it now?"

And as he said it, it was there. Floating and twisting and pulsing.

"Keep watching it and come closer to me," he whispered.

I took two steps forward and his voice was right in my ear, soft and warm.

"Very good. We only have a minute, but you recall the spiral makes you obedient and submissive? Go ahead and whisper yes.

Seeing only the spiral and hearing his voice, I did as directed.

"Very good. Now I recall you have lots of work at your depot here. And so you will be back next week?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Good, very good. You can take my survey again, and again. You like taking the survey. It makes you relaxed, supple, submissive, doesn't it.

I sighed, "Yesss."

"Show me how submissive you are----kiss me," he ordered.

His hand went to back of my head, and he slowly pulled me in, whispering, "Submit, relax, submit, relax."

And then his lips meant mine, and seconds later his tongue meant mine as well. It wasn't forceful; it was soft and sensual.

And then it broke. A couple of inches away, he whispered, "Relax. Still under the spell of my voice and the spiral, I want you take a deep breath, count to ten and then shake my hand and tell me you look forward to seeing me next week. As you walk away, you will not think of this or the spiral until you see again. Deep breath and count."

As I walked to the car, for some reason the spiral was still floating in my memory. I bore down mentally and focused on what I needed to do next to turn this depot around.

**********

Tuesday I'm back in town. A weekend of wedding plans and I'm more than ready to hang out with warehousemen and truckers. It's early evening by the time I get to the hotel. Instead of going up to the room, I feel an inclination to go see if Jeremy is working. He's not. So I ask the fellow behind the bar when he will be on.

"He won't," is the reply.

"Take another job?" I ask.

"If you want to call sitting in jail a job sure," he says. "You a friend?"

"Ummm, nope. Met him last week, chatted a bit, took his survey a couple of times," I say. "What happened."

"Can't really say," he replies.

I'm curious. I take out a 20.

"What might you be able to say," I ask.

Putting the bill away, he leans in, "Somehow he convinced a customer to let him walk her to her room. Seems she was pretty woozy. Used her key to get in. What he didn't know was she had left a key for her date-lover-boyfriend-whatever at the front desk. When the guy gets there, Jeremy is fully up her ass. A confrontation ensues. Turn out the guy is law enforcement next county over, so it didn't get too out of hand. Funny thing is, the woman had no recollection of how she got there or got in that position. His tablet was on the bed with swirly pictures on it so the guess is some date-rape seduction drug," he pauses. "Did he make a pass at you?"

"Not that I noted, not into guys so I wouldn't have caught it anyway," I reply.

I head off to the room, drop my stuff, check in with home, and then back to restaurant for dinner. As always I eat at the bar so as to take up less space. It's a shipping thing, you know him.

I'm thinking about what happened to Jeremy, and in the process I have one more drink than I ought to. Make it back up to the room and as I am lying in bed relaxing, somehow a couple of the barriers he installed disappeared and things start to come back to me. First, I recall the spiral and the way it's smooth and sensual movements seem to suggest somebody was screwing somebody else. Not too long after that came some of the words of encouragement that were embedded in the spiral as well as his suggestions.

Instead of being repulsed and going to the bathroom to throw up, I found my cock getting hard. This in turn led to some fondling and more and more of the "customer survey" being remembered. I can feel my heart rate increase and the combination of numbness and tingling in my abdomen.

I went to the bathroom, pumped out some lotion, grabbed the washcloth and went back to the bed. It was difficult but somehow I was able to both stroke myself and get in a position so that I was riming my ass and getting slight penetration with my other hand. It was not too long that I was ejaculating on to the washcloth. At this point I sat up, and without thinking licked up my deposit.

As I enjoyed the postcoital floating, I now found myself in a quandary. I'd like to do this again.

So-----------

Should I go see a psychiatrist and try and get this removed or blocked?

Should I try and find out if there is some sort of replacement for Craig's List and the Back Pages and look for a male masseur?

A Domme?

Should I stop by Raleys on the way out of town and buy a cucumber?

Should I ask Charlotte when we are out shopping for her mother of the bride dress this weekend, if we can go to the naughty store and buy some stuff to engage in behavior that has been long forgotten?

Any other suggestions?