CYOA Wednesday [A Day to Learn to Let Go 1]

If you liked my story A Night to Remember to Forget, you’ll be happy to know a spiritual sequel started today on my Patreon. It will be presented in CYOA format like the original and it’s entitled A Day to Learn to Let Go . All members (free and paid) can read it and vote on how they wish to see the plot proceed. Synopsis below:

Meredith’s long dream of organizing a series of BDSM conferences and workshops is finally coming to fruition. Mistress Susan is one of the guests of honor, with a workshop dedicated to hypnotic BDSM. What fun happenings will ensue?

https://www.patreon.com/posts/127850873

Read the first segment below:

1 – Opening

Meredith adjusted the water temperature and leaned against the glass shower door. Steam billowed around her, creating a soft, hazy cocoon that muted the sounds of the early morning. She tilted her head back, allowing the relaxing spray to cascade over her face and shoulders, washing away the lingering heaviness of interrupted sleep.

Her muscles were still sore from the unexpected physical exertion of the previous day, but it had been for a good cause. Everything had to be perfect for her grand moment in the kink community. Thanks to her unrelenting perseverance and the help of her closest friends, she had every reason to believe it was going to be a good day.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the cranberry and passion fruit scents of her exotic body wash. For the first time in ages, everything felt calm and controlled, unlike the chaos that had been brewing in her life lately.

The water temperature shifted, dropping a fraction of a degree. Meredith’s hand moved reflexively to adjust the tap again. The white tile walls were coated with a misty sheen that made everything around her look hazy. She turned up the pressure, fogging the glass shower door and washing away any remaining thoughts of the night before.

Her phone buzzed on the marble vanity, interrupting the water’s rhythmic percussion. She knew without looking it was Dominic, her conference coordinator, calling to confirm final logistics for the weekend’s event. Six months of meticulous planning – venue contracts, speaker agreements, attendee registrations – were about to crystalize into a landmark event for the alternative lifestyle community.

The Kink Networking and Orientation Training – KNOT, for short – was more than a series of conferences and workshops. It was a carefully curated platform to destigmatize the worlds of kink, fetishes, and consensual power exchange dynamics. Meredith had vetted every presenter, ensuring that academic rigor and practical expertise would elevate the discourse beyond stereotypical misconceptions.

She smiled, tracing her fingertips along the edge of the shower glass, remembering her earlier days in the scene. Back then, she had been a sought-after submissive, known for her eloquence and refined understanding of power dynamics. Dominants across three states had requested her services, appreciating her nuanced approach to submission that went far beyond physical performance.

Those years had taught her more about human psychology and organizational dynamics than any MBA program ever could. Masters like Victor Rodriguez and Mistress Antoinette had been more than play partners – they were mentors who understood power structures at a profound, visceral level. Though she rarely played publicly now, those experiences remained foundational to her current work.

The phone continued buzzing. Dominic was impatient, but she allowed herself this moment of reflection. Her professional submission had been an art form – carefully negotiated scenes that explored complex interpersonal dynamics while maintaining absolute safety and consent. Those experiences now translated perfectly into her current role as a community organizer and conference architect.

She stepped out of the shower and wiggled her wrinkled toes, before wrapping herself in a soft towel embroidered with the KNOT logo.

The logo was an elegant, minimalist design that captured her philosophy perfectly: an intertwined rope pattern forming both a stylized “K” and an abstract representation of connected human figures. Meredith had spent weeks refining each curve and negative space, ensuring it communicated connection, complexity, and consensual intimacy without being overtly provocative. The deep burgundy and charcoal gray color palette suggested sophistication and depth, deliberately moving away from the stereotypical leather-and-chains imagery associated with BDSM.

When she first sketched the design, Dominic had been skeptical. “It looks too intellectual,” he’d said. He wanted something flashier but she stood her ground and everyone seemed to love it as well. It felt good being right.

There were many people Meredith was looking forward to seeing at the venue. Some were old friends from her early explorations in the scene. Others were skilled practitioners whose art she had come to appreciate even from a distance. Of the second group, none was more intriguing than Mistress Susan.

The hypnodomme was already a legend in certain circles, known for her ability to induce complex psychological states through verbal and visual cues. Her work explored the intricate landscapes of consciousness and consent, and she was loved by everyone who already had the pleasure of working with her.

Meredith had never personally sessioned with her, but they had corresponded extensively about neurolinguistic programming and deep psychological explorations. She had also studied her published research on the limits of hypnotic BDSM. Mistress Susan represented the intellectual edge of dominance that Meredith most respected – power wielded through precision and profound mental insight rather than brute force.

She dried her body methodically before answering the phone. “Good morning, Dominic,” she answered, her petite frame casting a compact shadow against the bathroom’s tiles.

Though short in stature – she was only five-foot-three, Meredith radiated an intensity that made her seem much larger. Her naturally dark hair – currently dyed a striking platinum blonde – was still damp from the shower, clinging to her neck in tight ringlets.

“We’re locked and loaded,” Dominic said, his voice crisp and businesslike. “Venue is prepped, and the presenters are arriving. We’ll be opening the main doors in three hours.”

“Good.” Meredith’s hazel eyes narrowed as she stretched her arms. Her muscles were loose now and the pain she had experienced earlier was a thing of the past. She took a deep breath and reached for the hair dryer tucked inside the sink vanity. “Any last-minute complications?”

Dominic hesitated, a bubblegum pop echoing on the other end of the line. “There might be something. A potential issue with our most-anticipated guest of the day.”

“Mistress Susan?” Meredith fiddled with the drier in one hand while holding her phone in the other. What’s wrong?”

“Her flight is running a little late, but she should still make it to the opening.”

“I hope so. If only she had agreed to arrive yesterday like I wanted to…”

“Hey, I tried my best. With her busy schedule as of late, we’re lucky she even accepted the invite. I can’t wait to see her in action.”

“That makes two of us. What’s the expected delay?”

“About an hour. We have transportation waiting for her, but I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you were the one to pick her up as a special thank you for her presence? I can handle the opening duties. In fact, I’d love to. I know this event is your baby, but…”

“It’s our baby, Dom,” Meredith replied, acknowledging his importance in making the dream come true. “Do you really think I should go?”

“That’s what I would do if I were in your shoes, but it’s your call, of course.”

“Hmm, let me think…”

To decide what happens next, head over to my Patreon (you can join for free), and vote on the poll there until next Sunday. 

If you’re new to these CYOA stories, here are the basic rules:

1) You can only choose one option;

2) If there’s a tie at the end of the poll, and the competing options can be combined somehow, I’ll do that. If not, I get the deciding vote to keep the tale going.

3) The process continues every Wednesday until the story runs its natural course.

Have fun.