Yellow On White

© S.B. 2023 All Rights Reserved.

Reproduction and distribution of this writing without the written permission of the author is prohibited. This writing is not to be included in any publication - free or otherwise -, with the exception of the author's self-published works.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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Dr. Vanessa Madsen removed her sunglasses to look at the woman in a white dress sitting at the other end of the restaurant and thought to herself. Was that...? Yes, it definitely was! She had grown a little chubbier over the years and her forehead had gained a handful of expression wrinkles that would never go away, but she still had the same punchable face and slightly crooked smile she remembered. This was quite an unexpected sight and one that surely had to have happened for a reason.

The woman's name was Olivia Santiago, an old acquaintance of Vanessa from her high school days. Their time as classmates had been anything but peaceful, a rivalry that had started over an off-hand comment about a pair of boots and had ended with a stolen boyfriend and threats of violence that never came true. Vanessa often said she didn't hold grudges, but that was a lie. She did and her long-term memory made sure they never went away. She never forgot a person who wronged her and while it was impossible to get retribution for all of them, sometimes, when the opportunity presented itself, she saw it to fruition in the most exotic and hypnotic way possible.

She hadn't thought about Olivia in a long time but still remembered the last day she saw her before Summer vacation almost twenty years before. It was the day when she was close to breaking her face on the sidewalk outside the school grounds, something that would have surely wiped that annoying smirk off her face. Vanessa brushed away those memories as she pushed a strand of hair away from her face and mused about what to do next. Olivia was sitting alone at a corner table but, unlike her, she seemed to expect someone. She was constantly glancing at her phone, impatient and annoyed, emotions exacerbated by the white wine she was drinking. She was on her third glass already and unless her tolerance to alcohol was above average, she was bound to get a little tipsy soon. If that wasn't the universe giving her a sign to do her worst, then Vanessa knew not how to interpret its designs at all.

The therapist set aside her Fettuccine Alfredo, wiped the corners of her mouth, and stood up from the table. Her weekend trip to New York had been completely uneventful until that moment, so this was the perfect chance to turn it into something memorable. Vanessa moved quietly past a handful of other tables, avoided a garcon and tray of shrimp delicacies, and stopped in front of Olivia, blocking the light with her three-piece navy suit. Her training in the ways of hypnosis had taught her to modulate her voice to whatever frequency suited her agenda best and it was incredible how gentle or ominous she could make any word sound, case in point the low and grave "Hello" she used to open the conversation.

"Huh?" Olivia looked away from her phone and was momentarily blinded by her domineering silhouette.

"Good afternoon, Olivia," Vanessa insisted, looking down at her former rival. "Long time no see. What a surprise to find you here today."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Yes, you do, though it's possible you don't remember me, which would be a shame. We used to be classmates in high school and didn't care much about one another. Does that ring a bell?"

"Hmm, no sorry, those days are long gone and that's awfully vague because I didn't see eye to eye with many people back then. Can you give me something else to go on with?"

"Daniel Walters."

"What?"

"Daniel Walters. You took him to a party at your friend Berenice's house after I'd invited him. Do you remember that?"

"Oh..." the blonde woman nodded her head awkwardly. "I do remember that. Not my finest moment, but I was young and stupid. Does that mean you're... hmm, Valerie? Vera?"

"Vanessa," the therapist tapped her right foot on the floor. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"I... hmmm, no. Please do, though I'm waiting for someone."

"So I've noticed," Vanessa replied pulling a chair and crossing her legs as she adjusted her bottom on the seat.

"You have?"

"Yes. I've been checking you out from my table for a while now to make sure it was really you. You haven't changed much."

"Thanks, I guess. Sorry, I'm not good with faces so I'm not sure if that applies to you as well or not."

"It seems your memories of those days are fuzzy, Olivia," Vanessa slid her fingers across the table like a snake approaching its prey."

"A lot has happened since we were teenagers, Vanessa. Yes, I've forgotten many things from way back when and I'm sure you've done the same."

"You'd be surprised at the things I remember... Vanessa gently cocked her head to the right.

"Okay. You're not still mad about that whole situation, right?"

"Oh, not at all. I just needed something to break the ice and that was the first thing that came to mind. No hard feelings, Olivia," the busty woman lied. "As you said, you were young and stupid."

"Yeah, I was. I did a lot of nasty shit before getting my head straight but if it's any worth to you, Daniel was a walking piece of shit anyway."

"Perhaps," Vanessa thought, her face remaining visibly unperturbed on the outside. "but he was my piece of shit, and you still took him away from me over nothing, you little bitch!"

Olivia looked at her but noticed no changes to her expression whatsoever. The hypnotist's tone of voice was now slightly warmer but still somewhat distant. However, the cadence in her syllables made it surprisingly easy for anyone to lock into them, which was exactly what she was counting on to do her thing.

"Yes," Vanessa spoke out loud, slowly setting up her honeyed trap. "I found out that later so, in a way, you did me a favor. Thank you for that."

"You're... welcome?" Olivia muttered, slightly befuddled. Being approached by someone she hadn't seen in two decades was already totally unexpected but there was something slightly unnerving about Vanessa's collected voice. Had she been in her shoes, she wouldn't have done what she did, so was there an ulterior motive for that strange conversation? If so, what was it? "I have to say I didn't expect this at all."

"That makes two of us, Olivia, but I'm not much for coincidences. We were meant to run into each other today, and I'm glad that we did. Do you feel the same way?"

"I'm still processing what I'm feeling, to be honest. That whole year changed a lot for me."

"For me as well. I remember when you moved away, so what happened to you after that?"

"Far too many things to reminisce about," Olivia deflected her question for she didn't want to dwell on the past for too long. "Made new friends, got a college degree, and now I have my own business."

"Really? That's interesting..." Vanessa leaned in. "And what exactly is the nature of said business?"

"See this dress?" Olivia pointed proudly at her attire, a mid-length asymmetric model that hugged her curves perfectly. "It's my own design."

"Ah, it's lovely..." Vanessa purred. "I had no idea you had that in you."

"Me neither until a few years back but when creativity called..."

"... you answered. Is that something you do a lot nowadays?" Vanessa uncrossed her legs and crossed them again.

"Being a designer requires me to. It takes a lot of visualization power to conceive an outfit in your mind and then be able to translate it into the fabric and materials you want."

"Yes, I'm sure it does," Vanessa gloated on the inside because having such an active imagination was sure to make her plan run smoother than anticipated. All she needed to do was to keep her talking, slowly build her trust with just the right nudges, and then she would have her sweet revenge. "I'm glad you found something you're passionate about. Is the business going well?"

"Yes, or at least, I think so. I'm actually waiting for a potential investor to meet me here, but he just called me to say he's running late. I hate it when that happens."

"Yeah, me too. Schedules are to be respected and people who don't do that are the worst."

"I know, right? I had my sales pitch ready to go and now I have to sit here and wait God knows how long for my chance to use it. It's annoying as fuck!" Olivia frowned, temporarily losing her composure. It was obvious there was a lot of frustration within her, not just from that situation but from a multitude of others she was not sharing, and that was another possible angle Vanessa could explore to get deep inside her psyche. The therapist smiled gently and allowed her to keep venting while pushing the fourth glass of wine closer to her.

"What about you, Vanessa?"

"What about me?"

"How's life been treating you? You look well. Have all your dreams come true ever since you left high school behind?"

"Not all of them but plenty for sure. I love my job and the people I get to meet because of it. It's also incredibly satisfying to watch them discover their true nature under my watch."

"True nature? What do you mean by that? Are you a teacher?"

"In a way, yes, but officially I'm a counselor/therapist. I help people deal with their phobias and anxieties and ultimately make them feel good about themselves. Once we uncover the root of the problem, I unearth it and make the necessary adjustments in their psyche so that it doesn't bother them again."

"That must be nice... to help people like that, I mean."

"Oh, it is. You have no idea how giddy I feel when I get something going that changes a person's life completely."

"But surely that's a lot of work."

"It depends on the patient. Different minds have different issues that require different approaches but I'm usually successful with a handful of hypnotic techniques. In fact, my skills in that regard are unparalleled, or so I'm being constantly told."

"So, you're a hypnotist too?"

"The very best."

"Wow. You're quite confident about that."

"I must be. What are we without confidence? I see you have it in you too to bring a white dress to a restaurant where stains are always waiting to happen."

"I'm trying to promote my brand, so it's a calculated risk."

"It's a good one, if I may say so myself. I take it your investor is to help you with retail?"

"How did you know?" Olivia queried, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"Lucky guess. Also, I figured that if you were already selling your creations in major stores, you would have mentioned it already."

"That's quite perceptive," Olivia sipped some more wine.

"It comes with the territory. Many people have trouble opening up during a session, so I need to pay attention to everything they say and do to make the best of an awkward situation."

"If you're as good as you say, that shouldn't be much of a problem, then."

"As I mentioned earlier, it depends. Some people are easier to read than others. For instance, you're quite easy, Olivia."

"I am? Please elaborate."

"Gladly," Dr. Madsen interlocked her fingers over the tablecloth. "You do have a lot of confidence like I mentioned, but it's not completely failsafe. Even from far away, I could tell you're nervous about this investment opportunity because if it fails, your business will suffer a lot, right?"

"Something like that, yes," Olivia begrudgingly admitted. Talking about her insecurities was not something she did much, and it felt bizarre to do so with Vanessa, but her voice was so soothing and the longer she stuck around the easier it was to confide in her. Was that her clinical expertise coming into action? "But why am I even mentioning this to you?"

"Because you're getting more at ease with each passing second. I'm easy to talk to and an easy listener too. You can say anything you want without risking being judged, Olivia. We're all adults here."

"I'm not one of your patients, Vanessa."

"I never said you were but since you did me a favor all those years back, I'd like to pay you in kind today."

"Pay me how?"

"Let me ease that insecurity for you. Give me five minutes and your willing mind and you won't have to fear anything that comes to pass ever again."

Olivia scratched the tip of her nose, unsure of what to say. It all felt too good to be true, especially coming from someone who hadn't been a part of her life for so long.

"Yeah... I don't know about that."

"What have you got to lose? You're sitting here, bored out of your life, waiting for something that is taking forever to get it here. That bottle of wine is almost empty, and you don't want another, so let's try something new. A change of perspective is often the best way to deal with an unsavory situation. Trust me, I know."

"Hmmm... and what can you do in five minutes?"

"More than you know as long as you're open and trust the process. One little change can mean a world of difference. Let me help you with that."

"You still haven't told me how."

"Just listen, Olivia. Don't talk, simply listen. Focus on my voice even if you don't hear all the words and you'll understand I'm here to help you. There are no coincidences. We were supposed to meet here again today for this moment to come true. Listen. Relax and listen to me." Dr. Madsen cooed. Her voice was now low and gentle, and no one else could hear what she was saying.

"When I'm dealing with patients, I usually ask them to tell me their dreams because the images our subconscious produces often shed light on what's really bothering us. Not always, of course, but dreams can be a gateway to the truth and the truth is what we're after, and what we're going to find here today. I didn't believe in dreams when I was young until I had one that changed the way I look at the world. I'd like for you to hear it for in it you may find something you relate to as well.

"It's not uncommon to hear tales of people who dream of being naked in a public place. They fear ridicule, exposure, and humiliation. I never had those dreams, but I had another that is equally unsettling and disturbing on a deep level. I used to dream I peed myself. Sometimes, I was with friends. Sometimes, I was with family, and sometimes, I was surrounded by complete strangers and found myself unable to control the deep need to part my legs and pee myself. It was utterly mind-boggling and the more the dream repeated inside my head the more I dreaded waking up to realize I was doing it for real. I was peeing myself and people were looking and laughing and making fun of me for being utterly powerless to do anything about it. I peed myself because I had no other choice and that hurt.

"I was haunted by that dream for a long time and the feelings that came with it were equally disturbing. I felt like shit all the time, imagining the warm liquid sliding down my legs while everyone watched. It would be even worse if I was wearing white and the stain bloomed like a dirty flower, drawing more and more attention to my predicament and my ultimate weakness. I hated it, I hated it so fucking much!

"As the weeks went by and the need grew more and more, I started meditating and repeating things like don't think about it. Don't think about peeing; don't think about being unable to control yourself; don't think about the dozens or hundreds of ravenous eyes waiting for you to commit such an atrocity; don't think about the embarrassment of being everyone's laughing stock. Simply don't think because thinking is the root of the problem. Relax, Olivia. Relax and don't think..."

Olivia listened to the opening of her strange tale wondering what that had to do with her at all. Vanessa told her story slowly but with utter conviction, her words kissing her ear lobes and sliding down into her brain like a soothing lullaby from a time long gone. It was bizarre, yet deeply layered. To unravel its meaning meant to latch on to every layer, one at a time, or all at once, and continue to listen, her shoulders slightly loose, her vision becoming slightly blurrier.

"I repeated these mantras time and time again hoping to deliver my mind from the nefarious effects of my wet dreams, but it didn't take long to realize my efforts were producing an entirely different outcome. The more I tried not to mull on this the more these ideas sunk in, deeper and deeper, deeper and deeper. It was like the story of the forbidden fruit that becomes tastier and tastier even if drenched in piss. I couldn't stop. My thoughts had turned into an obsession beyond rational thinking. I wanted to pee myself. I needed to pee myself. I would do anything to pee myself, anytime, anywhere.

"And that's when I realized the truth of not caring at all. What people thought of me didn't matter. What others think or do in response to my actions is irrelevant. I can do what I want and not care about the consequences. My desires must not be put to shame.

"This was the enlightenment I needed and from that moment forward, I stopped caring, and I was free. Free to embrace unbridled desires others may consider dirty or reprehensible, free to be me and lust for the yellow on white. I will pee myself because I want to, whether I'm alone in a bathroom stall, having a wonderful night out with friends, or sitting in a restaurant waiting for a business opportunity that will change my life for the better. I'm confident enough not to care about what will happen, and so I will pee myself. It's only right and what's right is never wrong.

"Relax. Relax, Olivia, completely lost in my words and the desire I've just planted in you. This is what you want, your dream is the same as mine. When you take another sip of your wine, your legs will begin to come undone. However, you'll resist the temptation long enough for your guest to arrive. Only when he approaches your table and you stand up and smile to greet him, will you let yourself go without a care in the world, the yellow on white, the hot droplets sliding down your legs. You don't care. You don't care. You're too confident to care. The humiliation will only dominate your thoughts once the deed is done and you realize you just fucked up. You will fuck up because you can't resist the urge to pee yourself.

"Deeper, Olivia. Deeper and deeper, completely ensnared by this suggestion. It's too late to stop now. You'll never have your fifteen minutes of fame but only a lifetime of humiliation for being a bitch when you weren't supposed to. Do not resist. You will do as I say and pee yourself."

Olivia couldn't move, her insides starting to revolt as she succumbed to Vanessa's humiliating hypnosis. Her five minutes were up, and she was too weak to fight the liquid compulsion bubbling between her legs.

"Good girl," Vanessa smirked. "Now, I'm going to leave you and return to my table. Remember to hold on until the investor and then surrender totally to this dark desire. You have no choice. I'm already too deep inside your head. And don't worry, I will film the whole thing so that I always remember you like this, powerless and humiliated, your thoughts enslaved by my hypnosis. Obey, Olivia. That's an order."

Vanessa stretched and kissed her rival ever so slightly on the lips before leaving her alone. This was the moment she had been waiting for her whole life.

Yes, she held a grudge and was not someone to be trifled with when she was mad. Five minutes later, a platinum-haired man in an expensive gray suit entered the restaurant and waved to Olivia, apologizing for his tardiness. He rushed to her, she stood up against her will, and her bladder came undone without mercy, yellow on white, mind and body debased as one.