CYOA Wednesday [A Day to Learn to Let Go 2]
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/128402647
Read the second segment below:
2 – On Her Way to the Airport
“You know what? I’ll go,” Meredith said. “The airport’s not far, and that way, I have a chance to talk to her before the event.”
She glanced at her meticulously prepared conference outfit hanging nearby – a tailored burgundy blazer, a blouse, and charcoal gray silk pants that matched the KNOT branding and then asked,
“Are you certain you can manage the opening without me if things go awry?”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “I’ve been running through our checklist all week. Every presenter is briefed, registration stations are set up, and the main conference hall is ready. I’ve got this completely under control.”
Meredith nodded, though he couldn’t see the gesture. She was determined to make an impeccable first impression and wasn’t going to let anything get in her way.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Keep your phone at hand. I’ll call you when I arrive at the airport.”
“Will do. Good luck, Meredith.”
“You too.”
She tapped the phone screen, ending the call, then set it down on the marble vanity. The hair dryer hummed to life, its warm current transforming her damp platinum ringlets into a sleek, structured style. Soft waves fell just above her shoulders, with strategic layers that framed her angular face.
When she was finally pleased, it was time to get dressed. Beginning with the undergarments, she chose a black lace bralette and matching panties that spoke to her background in the scene while maintaining professional elegance.
The blouse, blazer and silk pants awaited her, carefully steamed and positioned on a padded hanger. The silk pants draped perfectly, emphasizing her athletic build without being overly revealing. The blouse came after, followed by the burgundy blazer, the structured shoulder lines creating an immediate sense of authority. She didn’t even need to look at the mirror. She looked good and she knew it.
Black leather ankle boots with a modest two-inch heel completed the ensemble. As she zipped them up, her mind was already three steps ahead, calculating airport routes and potential conversation topics with Mistress Susan.
She grabbed her leather messenger bag – meticulously organized with conference materials, backup presentation drives, and a compact emergency kit – and headed toward the door, the car keys jingling against her palm. She could feel in her bones that this was going to be something special.
Her sleek Mercedes sedan gleamed in the morning sunlight, its metallic platinum finish matching her hair. Meredith slid into the driver’s seat with, her messenger bag sliding smoothly onto the passenger side. The navigation system was already calculating the fastest route to the airport, but she knew these streets better than any algorithm.
Downtown traffic was predictably chaotic, a web of honking horns and impatient drivers but where others saw gridlock, Meredith saw opportunity. She deftly maneuvered through side streets and strategic lane changes, her years of city driving transforming potential delays into a smooth, calculated route.
The GPS recalculated twice, unable to match her intuitive detours. She smiled slightly, appreciating how her intimate knowledge of the city’s infrastructure gave her an edge. Her estimated travel time had already been cut down by nearly ten minutes, and she was convinced she could do even better.
As she merged onto the highway, her mind drifted back to the conference preparations. Her long sleepless nights were about to pay off big time. If everything went according to planned, there would be more KNOT events in the future, maybe one every year. Ideally, she would bring the venue to different cities each time, but that was something she could only commit to in the face of a smashing success. Anything other than that would mean a careful reevaluation of her priorities and what she wanted to accomplish next.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Dominic. “ETA?”
She glanced down, tapping out a quick response: “25 minutes. On schedule.”
Her fingers reached for the touchscreen, selecting a playlist curated specifically for pre-conference moments – a mix of atmospheric electronic tracks and dynamic instrumental pieces that heightened her focus without overwhelming her concentration.
The first track began, a subtle techno beat with layered synthesizer waves that pulsed in sync with her driving rhythm. Boards of Canada’s ambient electronica filled the Mercedes’ interior, its intricate soundscape matching the precision of her driving. It was as if the music was flattening the urban landscape around her, converting the chaotic highway into a smooth, strategic corridor.
The track shifted, revealing deeper bass lines. She allowed herself a momentary smile, appreciating how the sound palette seemed to amplify her internal state – controlled, confident, prepared.
Through the windshield, airport signage began appearing – first distant blue markers, then more prominent directional indicators. The music’s tempo subtly increased, mirroring her rising anticipation.
The airport’s massive concrete structures emerged, their geometric lines cutting through the morning light. Meredith’s hands remained relaxed on the steering wheel, the music’s rhythmic pulse matching her internal momentum.
The parking structure’s angular concrete levels swallowed her Mercedes, its platinum finish momentarily disappearing into the shadowed levels. She selected a spot near the elevator, close enough to minimize walking but far enough to avoid potential door dings. Her heels clicked against the concrete, echoing in the cavernous space.
Inside the terminal, she navigated past meandering travelers with the same strategic efficiency she’d used driving. The airport’s international terminal hummed with multilingual conversations and rolling luggage.
A sleek bar near the arrivals section caught her attention. Perfect. She would have a moment to center herself, review her notes, and enjoy a crisp vodka soda.
The bartender, a young man with a hint of blonde facial hair, smiled at her. “What can I get you?” he asked, his tone professional but not overly familiar.
“Tito’s, soda water, lime wedge,” Meredith responded, setting her messenger bag on the polished bar surface. Her fingers were already pulling out a slim leather portfolio, reviewing the conference logistics one more time.
The drink arrived, condensation beading elegantly on the glass. She took a sip, her gaze drifting toward the arrival board. Mistress Susan’s flight from London was currently marked to arrive in approximately seventeen minutes.
Time passed without her noticing and the arrival board flickered, the hypnodomme’s flight number transitioning from “Scheduled” to “Landed”. Meredith paid for her drink and sprung to action. It was time.
Through the crowded terminal, a familiar silhouette emerged – Mistress Susan’s elegant posture was unmistakable even at a distance. Their eyes locked, and a subtle smile played across the Domme’s lips. It was a welcome surprise, the first of many on that special day.
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.
