Misremembered

You wake up after the night of a really fun party. Or do you?

* * *

You woke up and felt the hangover from the night before. The party had been lovely, the dresses, the suits, everyone had looked so glamourous. Your partner had looked absolutely gorgeous. They sat up in bed, looking down at you. “How are you feeling this morning?” they asked.

You groaned, and rolled over, prompting them to laugh. “Awh, babe. It’s okay. How much of last night do you remember? You tried to think. Had you drunk that much? Or was it – you could remember sitting with your partner before the party, they had been showing you their watch.

But – wait. When had that happened? Because your friend came over before the party to get ready with the two of you. Didn’t they? But – but – which friend had it been? You couldn’t remember. Your partner pulled you close to them. “Is your mind all muddled up, sweetie?”

You nodded. Things weren’t making sense. You could remember them trancing you. A night of them fucking with your mind. But you could also remember a lovely party. The two sets of memories were conflicting in your brain, making you feel confused and hazy.

They ran their hand through your hair. “It’s okay. Let me explain. You remember us talking about wanting to play with memory, yeah?” Their voice was calm, reassuring. You nodded. You had brought it up a month ago, and the two of you had been adding it to your play.

They continued. “Well, I asked if you would be okay with me… rearranging your memory of last night. You said yes, and, well, I didn’t know how well it would take, but, well. It seems like it didn’t completely overwrite what really happened.” You snuggled into them.

As they spoke, the memory of what really happened was becoming clearer. The party was becoming realised for the imagined thing that it was, and your night with them was becoming more real. The confusion was clearing, much like the fuzziness in your head.

You looked up at them. Finally feeling able to speak “So, you got my brain to misremember what happened last night?”

They squirmed. “Well, not 100%, clearly. Looks like you still remembered parts of what actually happened.” They seemed disappointed.

You snuggled into them some more, arms wrapped tightly around them. “Well, I mean, don’t be sad about it. The fact that you did what you did was really good. I’m sure that we’ll get it soon. Also, hey, that confusion, that felt… Good. You know?” You were telling the truth.

It had felt good. To feel so muddled, so reliant on them for the truth of what had happened. That loss of control had left you feeling more than a little turned on. You looked up, kissing them. “In fact, I’m looking forward to you making me feel more confused later today, okay?”