The Most Important Sentence in the World

Diana sat on a makeshift throne, staring at the overly excited man in front of her. The twenty-five-year-old busty, redhead Goddess had her eyes on her next-door neighbor ever since the first day she saw him walking on the street. Dave’s liquid, puppy eyes and hair wet by the rain told her he was a good candidate for her divine lessons and the months that followed had only proven her right.

The young Gym teacher was an attentive man, always respectful in their interactions even when it was clear he was uncomfortable. Her flirtatious ways were not something he was used to yet he never complained, never tried to save face. He listened, smiled, and listened some more, happy to have such a beautiful woman show any kind of interest in him.

When the erotic dreams started, he was embarrassed, but pleased. Diana’s presence inside his mind was an added boon that was over too quickly when the sun rose again. If only there was a way for those moments to never end…

After so long, the solution presented itself. After a quick chat by her doorstep in which he had been more open than expected, Diana had promised him a way to guide him to the place where he belonged: under her.

Dave stared back at her. She looked lovely in her white tank top with the words “Yes, Mistress.” written in black and a denim mini-skirt.

“I’m so glad you told me you want more of me, Dave.” She began. “Today, I’ll be teaching you the most important sentence in the world, the only one someone like you is meant to utter in my presence. To make it easier for you to understand it fully, I even had it written on my clothes and if you’re a fast learner perhaps you’ll get the chance to worship what’s underneath them before the day is done.

“Let’s begin, shall we? I want you to say this sentence out loud fifteen times in a row while focusing on the feelings the words produce in your frail intellect. As you do it, you’ll come to realize two things:

“The first is the taste the syllables leave in your lips: a sweet extravaganza that makes the Greek Gods’ ambrosia appear sour and futile in comparison. Its addictive quality has yet to be explained, let alone resisted.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he mumbled, the strange cadence at first becoming more natural as he continued to repeat it. “Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress.”

“The second is the chromatic impression within you. I believe that each thought we possess has a color attached to it and, because of the chaotic complexity of our brain, it’s only natural that these colors constantly intersect one another in a kaleidoscopic mesh. However, that doesn’t happen when you speak this phrase. Every time you repeat it, only pure white comes to mind, a virginal blankness slowly taking over… nothing remains untouched except these words – immutable brands binding you to me, engravings of absolute power you don’t wish to escape from, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he continued, eyes slowly defocusing. Why did it feel so good, and could it possibly be any better? “Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress.”

“Keep repeating them, pet.” Diana grinned as he continued to fall into hypnotic subspace for her. “Repeat them until you’re too tired to even muster the strength to articulate your speech properly and your eyes and knees sink to the ground in perpetual devotion. Then, we can move on to more practical lessons…”

“Yes, Mistress!” Dave exclaimed, wet lips already locked in the bliss of surrender. Fifteen times wasn’t enough. He needed to say them fifteen more, or thirty, or maybe one hundred. Dreaming that the dream was real, he embraced it fully: “Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress…”

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