Kailey opened her door as I was coming back to my room and called me in. “Only put your towel away first!”

I was there for a week of hiking with an organized group, and met Kailey during the first day on the trail. It turned out that one of the hotels was completely booked out and the three of us were delegated to another hotel. Kailey and I were two of the people, with the third being an elderly lady from Sweden.

We exchanged some words during the hike, but started really talking only when they bused us to our place. Later I went into the lobby to get some tea, and Kailey was already there. I didn’t want to disturb her, but she came up to me herself and sat in a nearby armchair.

She was not conventionally beautiful, but her face was lively and her brown eyes were a delight. She was tall and thin and carried herself a bit awkwardly, a characterization I myself can very much relate to. We immediately began discussing the hike. Kailey was a bit taken aback by why the organizers chose that specific route as the first one, but was otherwise hopeful.

“It’s a really picturesque site, but I personally would’ve done this route last. I’ve done some of these before, by the way. I’ve been here with friends, what, two years ago now? But I always wanted to go back on my own terms.”

“Why go with a group then?”

“Well, on my own terms doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t want some guidance. I felt I needed to go with people who know the area well. I’m really hoping that Arthur and Bella know what they are doing. But hey, I think they totally do.”

Nothing at this point hinted at the conversation being anything but that specific kind of small talk that you only engage in because there’s nothing else to talk about. But I am a firm believer that our lives have within them events that are like switches on the railroad. A mere flick of them changes your direction irreversibly and sometimes very abruptly—although all it was was a flick. Then again, perhaps those things are like bombs just waiting to explode.

Either way, we were at this particular point in our lives, the two people who barely knew each other, when we were mere sentences away from a discussion that neither of us planned to have.

“I just didn’t like how that guy kept talking over the lady,” I said. We were now discussing our stop in the middle of the forest and how nice it was, and since so far I haven’t complained about anything, I decided it was time. One of the dudes in the group had indeed kept talking over a woman. I stopped him once, telling him to let her finish. The woman was very polite about it, though.

“I am always polite about it myself,” Kailey said. “I remember having this problem with my friends, you know. Like, everyone just kept interrupting me all the time. If I would start saying something, people would just cut me off in the middle of the sentence and be like, ‘Right, absolutely’ and then just take over the conversation.”

“Oh, I am so sorry.”

“And the interesting thing is that for the longest time I wasn’t even noticing it. And then one day I realized that whenever I have a thought, I just can’t get it out properly. I remember feeling a bit surprised by it all. Somehow, in my mind, I felt that I deserve to be valued and respected. That what I was saying was important not because of what I was saying, but because _I_ was saying it. And then I thought, ‘Am I overcompensating?’ because I realized that I want to be the only one speaking. I began fantasizing about everyone listening to me and just me. I would be explaining what I think and they would not interrupt. They would not object, even if they disagree. My every word would be taken in. There would be a scribe writing it all down.” She shook her head and smiled. “I don’t know how to explain this, I sound like a narcissist! But I don’t mean it this way! I simply realized that I wanted something that I never had. Maybe even something that I could never have. Something that a normal conversation would not be able to give me.”

“But like what?”

She thought about it for a bit. “It’s like, I feel very much at peace when I am around people who really value me. Who somehow want to please me. But not because I am their boss or I am very entertaining or something else, but because they care about me. And because they care about me selflessly, for no particular reason. That was always very important to me, the sincerity. Be given their full attention just because. To not be hurried up. To feel that people aren’t bored to hear what I’m saying. And instead, to be uplifted by them. Or maybe a better way to say it is to be pleased by them, sincerely, selflessly...” She smiled again. “I’m sorry, none of this sounds right.”

But I was quickly realizing that it sounded right to me. And I think she sensed it because we both leaned forward a bit.

“Well wait. I think I get it. I can kind of relate to it, maybe because I am the opposite? You know what I mean? For example, I remember realizing at some point how noncompetitive I am. That it felt so good uplifting other people. Not being the center of attention. Not interrupting. I mean, we all interrupt sometimes! I tend to interrupt when I’m excited, finishing everyone’s sentences and all that. But if someone needs to not be interrupted, I love to give them space. I will listen to them carefully.” I paused to collect my thoughts. “I had this colleague at work, and when we had our first meeting, she apologized saying that she tends to talk too much. I remember thinking that no man would ever say something like this. So I made sure to always allow her to speak for as long as she wanted. I would not interrupt, I would not hurry her in any way. I would just calmly listen and give her my full attention. I would even make sure that my body language signaled that I was there and fully present. I think that made her feel comfortable with me, and that made me so happy. I just wanted her to be comfortable. She wasn’t my boss. She wasn’t going to help me with my career or anything. I just realized that it makes me happy to make her feel safe and comfortable, just like you said, for no particular reason. I never asked her about that directly, but she told me many times that she enjoyed working with me. And that meant a lot to me.”

“I can imagine it meant a lot for her too.”

“I think about it sometimes. I try to be nice to everyone, of course, but it was such an unusual match. She needed to be listened to, to be given space, and I understood it and offered it to her. Not everyone would’ve needed it. But she did. And I guess I also needed it. I didn’t know it would make me so intensely happy. She said she enjoyed working with me, but oh boy was I looking forward to our meetings, just to listen to her speak and allow her voice to fill the room…”

Kailey ran her fingers through her dark-brown hair. It was long, although a bit unkempt after a whole day of hiking. She then looked at me. “You know, I have a story like that. It’s exactly opposite to yours, but otherwise just like that.”

I waited if she wanted to say more, but she continued running her fingers through her hair and looking across the lobby.

“Tell me!” I said finally. “If you want to, of course.”

She looked at me thoughtfully. “I had a friend in college. And I would sometimes ask her to do something for me. Like, I would ask her to make me tea or bring me something. She was a very nice person, very polite. Docile, even. And she would do it. I would ask her, and she would just do it without question. She would frequently make tea for the both of us, but either way she would always bring a cup for me, just like I asked. And if I wanted another, I could ask and she would do it. And she would do it immediately. She would stop what she was doing and go make me some tea. It became an unspoken rule, that she was responsible for tea when we studied together. I could ask her at any moment, and she would just go and do it.

“And so we were once chilling in our room. I saw her get comfortable at her desk, as she sat on the chair with her feet. And then I dared ask her to bring me my sweater. I didn’t exactly understand what I was doing at the time, but I think intuitively I wanted her to show me that she cares about my comfort even at the expense of her own.” Kailey laughed. “My god, it sounds cruel. But it wasn’t, I promise. I mean, she could’ve politely said something like, ‘Sorry, I’m so comfortable at my desk right now!’ Like, I was not a domineering person or anything. I did things for her too. But when I saw her sit like that and I knew I was a bit cold and needed a sweater, I got this rush, you know. I thought, I really want to be cared for. I want to be pleased. And so I dared to ask. And she didn’t protest. She said, ‘Of course, Kailey’, and then got up and brought it to me. And her voice was not irritated or anything. She also didn’t throw my sweater to me just to get it over with. Instead she came up to me and put it in my hands and smiled. And then she went back to her desk and made herself comfortable again. And it felt so good, that moment. I suddenly felt so valued, so cared for. Like, this girl, Sophie was her name, she really wanted me to be comfortable and warm, and she just brought me my sweater. I didn’t ask her for anything like that anymore because I was afraid that she might not do it next time. And I wanted our relationship to stay pure like that. I liked her company very much...”

“Are you still friends?”

“I mean, I call her a friend, but really, we were just temp roommates. We worked together on a project. It was many years ago. When the project was over, we didn’t have the reason to hang out anymore and went our separate ways. I remember feeling sad about it. A couple of times I would even approach her in the library and sit at the same desk. I didn’t know what I liked about her at the time.”

We sat in silence for a bit.

“This is so beautiful,” I said.

“What?”

“What Sophie did for you. This whole situation. It sounds so beautiful to me.”

She smiled. “It’s funny that you understand this. We barely know each other, but you understand?”

“I do!”

I thought a bit about how to put it better. She didn’t rush me and was looking at me, and suddenly it felt nice. Suddenly, her looking at me felt nice. It was a very quiet and warm feeling of profound comfort. Just a moment ago I was telling her how I enjoyed making my colleague feel safe and comfortable, and now I felt the same way in her presence. Safe and comfortable under the calm gaze of her brown eyes.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“There was a time when I also didn’t know why I would like something like this,” I said. “But it was always true. It was always there. It’s just that realizing it consciously turned out to be important. Bringing someone tea, whenever they want it? Oh my god.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “I so understand it. I would do it. I would bring them tea whenever they wanted it. If they wanted another cup, I would bring it again. I would get up from my seat. I would get up from bed. I would stop whatever I was doing. It would not irritate me in the least! If this is what they wanted, if I knew that this would make them feel cared for, safe and valued, I would do it. I would totally do it. Every single time.”

Kailey leaned back in her armchair and watched me with a contemplative expression on her face. And I think we were no longer smiling. Smiling required a bit too much. We were looking at each other, but then I felt I shouldn’t be staring at her, so instead I glanced down, at her hands, and then kept my eyes there. And we sat like that for a while.

We were soon approached by the Swedish lady. She released us from our spell and suddenly the mood changed. We talked a bit about tomorrow’s hike. I made some joke and both ladies laughed. The bus was supposed to pick us up tomorrow in the morning and then breakfast would be at the location with the rest. We decided we’d meet together in the lobby.

“Just remind me to take my sunscreen,” the Swedish lady said with a chuckle. “Honestly, just ask me. I would put some on but then forget to take more with me. And you know that you need to refresh it every three hours?”

We promised, and Kailey got up. The two women bid me goodbye and went upstairs to their rooms, while I decided to go for a walk. I knew I might not be up to it after several days of hiking, and I wanted to check out the area around the hotel.

The hotel had a complex shape, and if you simply followed its wall, it felt like a maze. It was one of those buildings that looked tiny from the front but would have rooms with numbers beyond a thousand. Each turn of the wall revealed more windows, and after a bunch of turns there would be a courtyard into which even more windows looked out. The whole thing probably looked like a fractal from above.

The walk took me about half an hour, after which I got back to my room, unpacked my things and decided to visit the shower. It was a two star hotel, very cute and tidy, but the showers were on the floor. There was a common area with the sinks, and then the separate shower areas for men and women. I always worry that the water might be too cold. In that part of the world they tended to use boilers, and by late evening hot water would often be gone.

But I was in luck, and the water was fine. I decided not to be too wasteful about it, so I showered quickly, got out and brushed my teeth. Thankfully, the two star hotel provided its own toothpaste, which in my mind increased its valuation by at least a star. It was in a container similar to the soap, and you had to squeeze it.

It was then, when I was going back to my room, when Kailey opened her door and called me in. Her room was across from mine and I thought that she wants to show it to me.

Her room was indeed almost identical. It had a closet, a cupboard with several drawers, an armchair and a large medallion on the ceiling. I wanted to say that I have exactly the same one, but before I could say it, she pointed at her bed. Her stuff was on it: her open backpack, her hoodie that I saw her wearing during the hike, a pair of worn socks and a couple of smaller bags that she took out of the backpack.

“It's such a mess here,” she said. “I will now go take a shower, but meanwhile I want you to clean it up. Put everything away properly, fold my clothes, all that. And then make the bed. When I come back, I want everything to be ready for me.”

No one has ever said anything like this to me. Her delivery was calm, even casual. I should’ve been completely stunned, but somehow I wasn’t. “Yes, ma'am!” I said.

“Oh yeah,” she added, “I'll be reading in bed, so make sure the lamp is switched on. I tried it and I think it’s not even plugged in.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

She had her towel on her shoulder, and after instructing me she immediately left the room. I heard her footsteps recede down the corridor.

I was now alone, at this unexpected juncture of my life. It all happened blazingly fast. The whole conversation took maybe just twenty seconds.

It’s customary to write something like, ‘my heart was pounding’, but it wasn’t. That’s just not how it felt. It was a rush, alright, but it was also incredibly calming. It was overwhelming, but also relaxing. A woman just told me what to do! She didn’t ask whether I could or would, she just told me to do it. And then she left, expecting me to fully obey her.

I closed my eyes for a moment, but decided to process it later.

Her backpack was this camping thing, thick and tall. I set it carefully on the floor near the window, then took the bags that she already took out of it and inspected them. One contained clean socks, the other had the various toiletries like a moisturizer, a sunscreen and toothpaste. She’d probably already seen that the toothpaste was provided and left hers here.

I put the first bag into the drawer. Her room had a sink and a small round table near it. I then took out the creams and set them on the round table, as well as a couple of other things I thought she might find useful day to day. I wondered if she would use some of the creams before going to bed, but decided that she can tell me later if I should place them on the table by her bed. There was a mirror over the sink, so maybe the creams made sense there.

Then I picked up her worn socks. They were slightly moist and so I put them on the radiator. The radiator was cold, but it was a better surface for them to dry on than having them on the floor. I also noticed that she herself put them on the bed, another reason to treat them with care. Her hoodie I hung on a hanger in the closet.

Then I took off the bed cover. It was one of those annoying cloth covers that they stick under the mattress. It took me a while to get it out, but finally I managed, folded it neatly and placed it on the armchair. Then I took off the blanket which was also stuck under the mattress. There were two pillows and I made sure to fluff them up, and then laid the blanket over the bed again, so that it looked lush and beautiful. I lifted one of the corners to open up the pillow, and propped the pillow up against the back of the bed a bit. I wanted her to be able to sit in bed and lean back against it comfortably.

The lamp was indeed unplugged, so I plugged it in, switched it on and moved it closer to the bed. Her phone was on the floor, charging. The charging cable was too short to put the phone on the table, let alone on the bed, but I tapped the screen and saw that it was at almost 70% at this point. Given that she wanted to read, I unplugged it from the charger and then placed it on the table, right under the lamp.

I then glanced around. The room looked neat even without my help, but making her bed and putting her stuff away definitely helped. I came up to her backpack and looked in, wondering if I could do more, but it was pretty neatly packed, so I decided not to touch anything. Then I dimmed the main light, opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.

What now? Should I wait for her here? Should I say something when she comes back?

I went across to my room, opened my door and sat on my bed, listening. You couldn’t really hear the showers from here, but then I heard her footsteps in the common area with the sinks. I heard her turn on the tap. She was probably washing her face or brushing her teeth. It helped that I was tidying her room when she wasn’t looking. Suddenly, imagining being in front of her was a bit unnerving. How should I behave? What should I say?

I soon figured that the latter part was simple—I should not say anything. I should wait for her to speak. If she asks something, then I’ll respond. But other than that, I didn’t know what to expect. Did she have any other plans for me?

The sound of water lasted longer than I wanted it to. I wasn’t exactly anxious, but there was definitely a bit of anticipation. Finally, she turned off the tap. I got up and stepped out into the corridor again. Soon I heard her footsteps and she appeared, wearing a dark blue T-shirt dress and cheap hotel slippers.

“I left my things in the bathroom,” she said, “go pick them up.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

I went past her and made sure not to look directly at her. I mean, not only she’s a woman I barely know, in a sleep shirt, but I also felt that it was the right thing to do, as if looking at her without her permission was violating a boundary.

She left her small purple pouch with the toothbrush on one of the sinks. Her towel was hung on a rack, along with her shower cap. Under it was a chair and her clothes were on it—jeans, a t-shirt and a bra. I carefully picked everything up.

When I came back, she was already sitting on her bed and scrolling on her phone. I put everything I brought back on the window sill, then carefully folded her jeans and placed them in the closet, hung her T-shirt on a hanger and put her bra in a drawer. What to do with the wet towel overnight was a mystery, but it was a mystery in basically every hotel. I considered several options, then hung it on the back of the armchair.

“Ma’am, should I close the curtains?”

“Yeah.”

As I was closing them, she got into her bed and covered herself with a blanket. “My keycard is over there, by the door. Take it and wake me up tomorrow. The bus is at 10:00, so you can wake me up at 9:30.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Make sure that my stuff is already there when I go to wash up in the morning. And when I’m done, you should immediately pick everything up.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Good. You can go.”

“Yes, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am!”

I took her keycard and left. The doors in this hotel were heavy, so I made sure to close her door softly, so that it didn’t make a bang.

Back in my room, I sat on my bed.

It didn’t escape me that she didn’t acknowledge my service in any way. She simply told me what to do and said nothing about the result. She also didn’t respond to me wishing her a goodnight. And it felt good. So good, it was overwhelming. She took my services for granted. She was a queen. She behaved like she deserved it, and by god, she totally deserved it. It felt so right to obey her. If I could melt, I would’ve already been a puddle on the floor.

And then a realization hit me—she had to be so brave about it! She had to decide that she will call me into her room and order me to serve her. It was a very reasonable gamble given the unexpected turn that our previous conversation took, but still a gamble. I definitely didn’t see it coming! Could I imagine myself doing something like this?

And she must have felt a similar rush, didn’t she? Her bet had paid off. I obediently did everything she had asked. I did it immediately. I did it gladly. I also addressed her as ‘ma’am’, but that was almost automatic. How else could I have addressed her? ‘Ma’am!’ And I loved how we talked about her not wanting to be interrupted, and then all I was saying to her was ‘Yes, ma’am’, ‘Yes, ma’am’. Her voice was the only one that mattered. This was so satisfying to me, and I really hoped that it was satisfying to her too. I so wanted her to be pleased, to feel cared for. Waves of utter submissiveness went through me, making me realize just how strongly I wanted her to be pleased and happy and content. I thought I knew how it would feel but I didn’t expect the intensity.

I looked at her keycard, still in my hand. It was now a symbol of my responsibility to her. She gave it to me and I accepted it. Another human being was now relying on me waking her up and organizing her morning. This was way too much to process.

I made my own bed, although I didn’t bother too much with the decorations. Maybe I should have, just for practice. I wasn’t an expert in anything like that. It was a lucky coincidence that what she asked me to do was basic enough that I could do it for her well.

Before I drifted off into sleep, I thought that although I was a bit nervous about it, actually being in the room with her while serving her wasn’t awkward at all. I felt empowered, confident, imbued with purpose. Just like there, in the lobby, when she was looking at me. Being in front of her made me feel this profound comfort and safety. There was nothing to fear. On the contrary. For the first time, I felt at home.