Chapter 43: Confronting Fears

By Sunday morning, Mindy was beside herself. She had spent such an incredible evening with Sandy and with Mistress Catherine on Wednesday, and that had gotten her to think hard about her situation. She hardly got any work done on Thursday as her mind continually strayed to the events of the previous night.

Being at Mistress Catherine's mercy in the middle of the restaurant had been so exhilarating and intensely erotic that every time her mind strayed to the events she felt her heart begin to race, and her sex come to life. Being in a public space had been terrifying for her, but at the same time, that terror just spurred her on.

But what was really distracting Mindy was Sandy. She had looked so beautiful, and had been so helpless and vulnerable. And, most remarkably, she would have no memory of what happened. She didn't know that she had spent the evening with Mindy. She had no idea that she had been made to climb under the table and lick Mindy to orgasm in the middle of a classy restaurant.

And what would she think if she did remember?

That, more than anything, plagued Mindy's thoughts. It was quite clear that Sandy was deeply in Mistress Catherine's thrall. The brief moment when Mistress Catherine had brought Sandy out of hypnosis, the devotion was apparent – as was her obvious desire to sink back under Mistress Catherine's hypnotic power. Mindy didn't doubt that, even had she still been consciously in control of herself, Sandy would have still obeyed Mistress Catherine's command to bring Mindy to orgasm in the middle of the restaurant.

But would she have wanted to? Or would she have only done it to please her Mistress?

These questions swirled endlessly in her mind, and distracted her focus all day.

When she finally got home, she decided that she couldn't stand the mental turmoil any more. Since she and Sandy had had such passionate a passionate experience after their initial encounter with Mistress Catherine, Mindy had been beside herself with confusion. She was so afraid that she had damaged her relationship with Sandy, but she also held out a hope that their relationship could move to a new level as a result of what Mistress Catherine had unlocked between them.

There was only one way to find out: she had to call Sandy and talk to her about it.

Determined to finally face her fear, she picked up her phone and started to dial Sandy's number. As her shaky hands moved over the buttons, though, she decided that she should wait. After all, Sandy might not be home from work yet.

Instead, she made herself dinner and let a couple of hours pass. Then, she picked up the phone again. And, again, her hands began to shake. What if this were to be the last conversation she would ever have with Sandy? Could she handle that?

And what should she say? Should she just try to pretend like nothing had happened – maybe see if Sandy would broach the subject? Or should she cut right to the chase and tell Sandy how she felt? Or maybe she could bring up what had happened and try to gauge Sandy's reaction before she revealed any of her own feelings?

And then there was the question of last night. Should she tell Sandy what happened? What if Sandy felt violated by it? What if she was able to get over the events of the previous Friday, but this second sexual encounter between them was just too much? Or maybe mentioning it would bring it back to her memory, and she would find it so erotic that she would be more open to pursuing something with Mindy.

Having dialed all but the last digit of Sandy's number, Mindy turned all of this over in her mind before finally, reluctantly, turning her phone off again. She shouldn't just call without a plan, she told herself. It was only seven thirty, she still had time. She should take a minute to figure out what the best approach would be before making this very important call.

So she spent the next couple of hours pondering what her approach ought to be. Her fear of losing Sandy was so intense that she decided that the best strategy would be to, first and foremost, try to protect their friendship. The best way to do that would be to call and act as if nothing had happened.

But what if Sandy brought it up? What would Mindy do then? Would she admit her feelings? And if she did, what, exactly, would she admit? Should she just tell her that she had always had feelings for her, or should she lie and say that Mistress Catherine had made her realize that she had feelings?

Or should she change her answer depending on what Sandy seemed to be feeling?

Maybe, if the subject of their sex came up, she should ask her to come over – to talk face to face so that she could better gauge Sandy's reaction. Or maybe that would only make it harder for her to hide her own feelings if she needed to do so.

Still desperately confused, Mindy had decided to try to map out her plan more systematically. She got out a pad of paper, and started to design a kind of flow chart of possibilities. She had definitely decided to simply act as if nothing happened. If Sandy brought up what had happened on Friday, she would ask her how she felt about it. Depending on Sandy's response, she would either say that they should put it behind them and just remain friends, or admit that she did have some feelings, but remain vague about those until Sandy did more to reveal her own thoughts on where, exactly, they stood.

Mindy continued to break things down in this manner until, with a sudden feeling of panic, she looked over at the clock. She had let herself get so wrapped up in this process that she had completely lost track of time. It was already 10:15! Was that too late to call? Sandy might already be in bed. And even if she wasn't, she might be tired and not really ready to have this kind of a conversation.

But Mindy was so determined to call Sandy. She had to do it. She picked up the phone and, once again, reached the final number. Should she press it?

Maybe it would be better to wait until tomorrow. Maybe now that she had a plan, she should sleep on it; see if it still felt like the right approach in the morning.

But then she'd have to spend another whole day at work agonizing over everything. No, she thought, I need to go ahead and call.

But all of this indecision had taken more time. It was almost eleven by now. No, Mindy thought, I can't call this late. I'll have to wait.

Frustrated with herself, she threw her phone against the wall and started to cry. Why was this so hard? She and Sandy had been friends for so long, why couldn't she just bite the bullet and have this conversation? Surely they would get through this. And maybe their relationship would move in a new direction – an exciting direction.

But she had failed to make the call. She would have to wait another painful day.

Angry with herself for her inaction, she went to bed.

The next day was as excruciating as she had feared. She knew that she absolutely had to call Sandy when she got home, but the day just seemed to move so slowly that she felt as though she might scream. When it was finally time to go home, she practically sprinted to her car. It was Friday, so the traffic was particularly heavy, and Mindy found herself cursing each red light; fuming at each traffic jam; raging at each slow driver who didn't share her urgency.

Finally, she got home.

She decided that she wanted to wait just a moment – to make sure that Sandy would be home when she called. But she wasn't going to make the same mistake that she had made last night. She wasn't going to let herself lose track of time.

She went to the kitchen and pulled out a timer. She set it for forty five minutes. By then, Sandy would surely be home, and Mindy would make the call then, no matter what.

Those forty five minutes seemed to take even longer than her entire, painfully slow workday. Her heart was pounding and she had butterflies in her stomach. After just a few minutes she started pacing back and forth. Eventually, she scooped up the pad of paper that she had used the night before and looked over her plan once again.

Finally, the timer went off, and Mindy nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the sound since she was so on edge. Not letting herself have any time to change her mind, she picked up her phone and dialed Sandy's number.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. And then her voicemail picked up.

Mindy hung up immediately. She had no idea what kind of message she should leave. She'd rather just let Sandy see her number and call her back.

But what if she didn't call? Maybe this conversation was just as scary for Sandy as it was for Mindy? Maybe Sandy wouldn't be able to find the courage to call. She had tried to call last weekend, but that was so long ago – maybe she had thought more about things.

No, Mindy thought, I need to try to call again. She reset the timer.

And so her evening went. She would force herself to wait forty five minutes, and then she would call again. But each time there was no answer.

Eventually, Mindy gave up and, with tears in her eyes, went to bed. The entire experience had left her a bit shaken – it had taken so much for her to summon the courage to call, and yet here she was with nothing resolved, still filled with all of the same questions.

She decided to masturbate to try to ease the tension just a bit. She began to think back to Wednesday – to Sandy's blank, hypnotized look; to the erotic games that Catherine played with them; to the intense orgasm that had claimed her in the middle of a busy restaurant.

As she remembered that climax, she brought herself to orgasm. But, unlike the earth shattering sensation that she had felt in the restaurant, this time her climax was weak and unsatisfying. She began to think back to her first sexual experience with Sandy, thinking that maybe she could bring herself to a second orgasm, but quickly lost interest. Instead, she did her best to get to sleep.

Saturday was another day full of nerves and frustration. She continued to call Sandy at regular intervals. She knew that if Sandy checked her phone's history she would see how desperate Mindy seemed to be, but at this point she didn't care. She just needed some kind of resolution. But still, there was no answer.

When she finally, tearfully, went to bed that night, she hadn't even bothered to touch herself. She simply drifted off into a fitful, unsatisfying sleep.

Sunday morning, though, she decided that she couldn't take any more. She was going to go to Sandy's house and knock on the door.

Happy with this new resolution, she showered and made herself breakfast. She would head over right around noon.

Mindy was sitting at the breakfast table, nervously rethinking her approach to the conversation that she would have with Sandy when she nearly dropped her coffee cup in alarm.

There was a knock at the door.

She began to wonder if perhaps Sandy had decided to come over. Maybe she thought it would be better to talk in person. With her heart in her throat Mindy raced to the door and opened it.

And there, she saw Mistress Catherine.

Mindy simply stared at her, utterly speechless.

"May I come in?" The tall woman asked.

"Y, yes ... yes of course." Mindy stepped aside and Mistress Catherine strode into her apartment without hesitation.

"Can we sit down somewhere?"

"Um, yes, ah ... right this way." Mindy led Mistress Catherine into her living room, where the tall woman immediately walked to a chair and sat down.

"Please, Mindy, sit. I'd like to talk to you."

"Oh, okay." Mindy sat down on her couch with her feet tucked under herself, wondering why she felt so much like the visitor in this situation.

"I saw that you have been calling Sandy these past couple of days." For the first time, Mindy noticed that Mistress Catherine had something in her hand – Sandy's cell phone! "Don't be alarmed, my dear. Sandy gave this to me willingly – all of my slaves must give me their clothes and personal belongings when they enter my house."