I looked at the glass of water in my hand again and took another sip. It tasted bitter, but it was hot outside and I was glad for the relief. The air conditioning helped too, I didn’t have it at home but the house that I was showing did so I was enjoying not sweating to death.
I looked up at the house hunter who had poured the water from the tap and smiled, “So what do you think?”
He ran his hands over the granite countertop of the kitchen and nodded thoughtfully. He took a sip of his water. I took a sip of mine. I hoped the bitter water taste wouldn’t put him off the house.
“I want to see the bedroom again. Drink up your water,” he said.
I nodded and did so. I didn’t want to take the water upstairs and forget the glass, so I drained it and left it on the counter. Together we climbed the stairs. The house was empty. The house hunter had luckily had cups of his own for the water. But an empty house was easier to sell, because people could more easily imagine their furniture in it.
He looked around the spacious master bedroom. “What’s this room called again?” he asked.
I frowned, not understanding the question, “The master bedroom.”
“Why is it called that?” he asked.
“It’s the main bedroom, the largest,” I said, “the owner typically takes the largest.”
“The master of the house you mean?”
This was an odd conversation, but I nodded, “Yeah.”
He mirroed my nod, “So if I bought the house who would sleep in this bedroom?”
“You?” I said it like a question, confounded by what we were talking about. Who else would sleep there? I didn’t know if he had a wife or a girlfriend or boyfriend or what.
“Because I’m…” he let his voice trail off.
“The owner?”
“No but it’s the master bedroom so the person who sleeps in it is…”
“The master,” I said, hoping that I finally figured out what he was trying to say. I felt hot again, and slightly spacey. I noticed that the air conditioning wasn’t on, and cursed myself for not turning it on upstairs. I hoped that it wouldn’t put him off the house.
“And what do people do for the master?” he asked approaching me.
“Sell him a house?” I said and gave a nervous laugh. I was feeling dizzy. The binder of home details I was holding felt heavy. I felt heavy.
“People obey the master don’t they?” he asked, he was now less than a foot from me. I felt warm, and was having trouble thinking. My thoughts seemed to run into dead ends and simply stop. It was so hot. People obey a master, that made sense.
“Yes.”
“And if I’m the master what will you do?” he asked.
My mind made the connection before I could think about it, “Obey.”
That didn’t seem right. But it did. It was so hot, so hard to think.
“I slipped something in your water, it’s made you very suggestible. Don’t worry you won’t remember any of this. But you look hot, remove your clothes but leave your bra and panties on.
I nod and begin to undress. It feels good, cooler. I’m suggestible. I don’t even know how to begin to think about what that means. All I know is that the master told me to undress and he’s the master of the house and I need to obey him.
He leads me to the master bathroom and lays me down as a wave of dizziness hits. I lay looking up at him as he talks. I don’t really follow most of it, but it sounds good. Sounds right.
Then we return to the master’s bedroom. He smiles and asks, “So what do you do in the master’s bedroom?”
I blink, “Sleep.”
He nods, “And what else does sleeping with someone mean?”
“Sex.”
He nods, “Very good.”