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Subject: [New Story] Protecting the Mistress (17/31) (FemDom, Romance)
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Tales of the Cabal: Protecting the Mistress
by Tigger
Copyright 1999, All Rights Reserved.

Archiving and reposting of this work is permitted only on
sites where *no* fee (including so-called adult checks) of any
type is charged and provided that my authorship, the story
itself and this statement of rights are included and are
unchanged.

This story is based on the Cabal as I developed it in one of
my first stories, "Domination Games."  This story is archived
at the Nifty Archive.

Url:  www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Tigger/

The file is Domination-Games.html

***********

Protecting the Mistress
by Tigger

Part 17.  Service With a Smile. . .Or Else

The serving wench, Geraldine, looked over his assigned section
of the nightclub.  He counted himself lucky that, despite what
Mistress Mary had implied, there were only *female* dominants
seated there.  Gerald reminded himself again to think of each
of the dominant women as "Mistress".  Mary's last order had
been a dispensation from her directive reserving that
honorific to her alone.  "It is just too time consuming to
find out each Domme's title.  It slows service, so all of us
expect to be called Mistress by the serving staff."

At least all the males currently in Geraldine's section were
submissives, and they could not order him around.  He hoped
that wouldn't change any time soon.

But Mistress Mary was not in his section.  She was seated in
the section next to his, but when she'd arrived at the
Cabaret, she'd loudly demanded that she be served by a real
wench.  

"Why on earth would I want to be served by him, I mean her?"
she'd pointed out to the Maitresse D'hotel, "He's already
failed me once today by not becoming a good enough she, and
embarrassed me in front of my friends.  I refuse to give him
another opportunity to hold my talents as a Domme and a
trainer of slaves up to further ridicule.  Not this trip,
anyway."

But there had actually been a tiny, teasing little smile on
her face for him when she'd uttered those words.  Gerald
thought there had been - wanted to believe that there had
been.  That belief ... helped - a little bit, anyway.  It got
him over those first few high heeled-tottering circuits around
the dining room during the dinner hour.  At least he hadn't
dropped a tray.  Another sissy had, and on a Mistress no less. 
The sissy's own Mistress had given him a stern public paddling
and then turned him over to the victimized Mistress for the
remainder of the night.  The pair of delighted Dommes had
hustled the sobbing submissive out of the dining area to get
started on their night of restitution.

Gerald had initially expected much the same fate was in store
for him, but miraculously, he'd made it well into the evening
without any major incidents or punishments.  Actually, serving
dinner and then wenching at the Cabaret hadn't been all that
bad.  The intensity of games the members played at the Lodge,
along with all that lovemaking depleted everyone's energies
and gave them ravenous appetites.  Most of Geraldine's dinner
customers had been far too interested in eating to come up
with anything too involved to do to her...err. . him. 
However, that had changed quickly once the evening nightclub-
style program of "entertainment" began - most of which was not
on the stage. And a very great deal of the off stage
entertainment starred a certain cross-dressed male serving
wench.

Dina, who was also wenching that night, had been wonderful to
him and a great help.  The gorgeous slave girl had taken him
under her wing and shown him a few of the tricks of his or
rather her new trade.  

But being the center of attention of all these people still
bothered him when he let himself think about it, so he tried
not to think about it.  In his mind, he visualized himself
back home, playing with and for Mary.  Every Mistress who
called on him became Mary, and he tried to react to each of
them as he had to his Mistress during their recent wonderful,
playful scenes. 

Much to his surprise, it had worked.  He had been able to
focus on each Domina as an individual and once he'd gotten
caught up in that interaction, the other watchers had faded
and his anxiety had eased. 

And even more to his surprise, some of it had even been fun. 
The Mistresses were, in the main, cut from the same cloth as
his beloved Mary - playful, teasing, caring and - he very
strongly suspected - deeply sensitive to what was going on in
his head. At least two had noticeably backed off just as he'd
felt his shields start to go up again.  That obvious concern
had helped him slip back into the fun of the thing, too,
before they had released him back to his duties.

More than once that night, he'd caught himself unconsciously
rubbing the well-tenderized cheeks of his bared fanny that his
tiny skirt presented rather than hid.  The first thing that
the Mistress in Charge had ordered was that he strip off his
panties. Of course, no self respecting Domme and only a very
few of the privileged slaves could resist such a blatant and
open invitation. Geraldine the serving wench had been patted,
fondled and pinched so many times he did not even want to
think about what his butt would look like in the morning. 
He'd been spanked at least a half dozen times with bare hands,
paddles and once with something that looked like a leather
slipper with a handle.  

That had been quite the experience.  Gerry had not thought the
odd little toy could do very much and had very quickly learned
otherwise.  The Mistress who wielded that instrument from hell
had taken exception to Geraldine's serving wench-voice, or
rather, to her lack of one.  "Sweet cheeks," the pleasingly
plump, matronly Domme had said as she squeezed the cheeks in
question.  "You just don't sound girlish enough yet.  Why
don't we just help you, eh?"

Moments later, Gerald had found himself laid over the woman's
lap with his tiny skirt flipped up.  "Here's the drill,
cutie." she said with a teasingly gentle first swat on his
upturned butt.  "We will keep this up until my friends here
think you sound like the sweet little maid-slave your Mistress
wants you to be for her."

Initially, Gerald had reacted as he always responded to
corporal punishment - with determined stoicism.  Which was
precisely what the Mistress did not want.  After a few hard
swats that elicited no obvious reaction from Gerald, she'd
bent over to whisper for his ears alone.  "Now, honey, you
aren't being whipped and this isn't punishment so there's no
need for the enduring martyr act.  This is a game - C'mon and
play it out with me!"

Her next swat had been the hardest of the lot and caught him
by surprise, evoking a startled little squeak from Gerry.  A
pat on his back told Gerry his inadvertent loss of control had
somehow pleased the woman.  The "Still not very girlish,
Elise." comment from one of the other women seated at the
table finally clued him in. They weren't using him solely for
their own amusement.  They really were playing with him.

And Gerry resolved to play for and with them, too.

Gerry spent the next ten minutes squirming and squealing  -
generally raising a hellish din - as the Mistress gave him a
very thorough, very expert paddling  Much to the amusement of
everyone else in the Cabaret.  Finally, he reverted to his
"little girl Geri" voice.  "Please, Mistress, no more.  Geri
will be a good girl!  Don't spank Geri anymore, PLEASE!" he'd
begged in the clipped falsetto tones.

The spanking had stopped immediately and his skirt replaced
with great ceremony.  Gerry had stood, and with tears
trickling down his cheeks (a few of which were real), Gerry
had curtseyed and thanked the Mistress.  She in turn had
admonished him to "present a more properly girlish countenance
in the rest of your duties, slut." in very officious tones,
but her smile and wink had let him know she was pleased.  He'd
minced away, swinging his hips and ostentatiously rubbing his
fanny to the amused applause of the other tables in his
section.

Dina had pounced on him immediately and made him fix his face
before the Mistress in Charge caught him.  "Good job, sweetie. 
That was just perfect.  I could tell your Mistress was
delighted with you.  I was watching her watch you and she was
grinning ear-to-ear.  Just keep it up, just like that.  Next
time someone grabs your butt, hip into their hand, give a
little wiggle and smile."  Then she'd kissed him and sent him
back to his station.

A tall, large framed Domme with unusually bright blond hair
beckoned him over.  Stifling a bemused sigh that would
certainly have earned him yet another bare-bottomed public
spanking, Gerry picked up his serving tray and strutted over
to the woman's table in the far back corner of the club room.

"How may I serve you, Mistress?" Gerry asked in the stylized
ritual greeting of a Cabal serving wench. 

The woman smiled broadly as she stood to face Gerry.  In her
heels, she was considerably taller than he was, despite his
own heels.  Moreover, now that Gerry could really see her, it
was evident that her large size was entirely due to muscle and
not fat. The lady evidently pumped some serious iron. 

"Well, now." she'd purred in a pronounced southwestern accent. 
"You've just looked so damn cute wobblin' around on those
purty heels," suddenly she was on Gerry, pushing him backward
and wedging him into the nearby corner. "I just have to get to
know you a little better, slut."  She'd mashed her mouth down
onto Gerald's own, claiming him with her tongue before backing
off just a bit.  "Yeah, make that a lot better, Sweet cheeks."

The woman had a grand time, "feeling you up, you sexy little
slut." Gerry pretended to try to escape, but didn't.  She was
just too strong, and besides, he couldn't get any leverage in
those damnable shoes, anyway.  Her hands were every where at
once, stroking, fondling, and pinching, her body grinding
against him.

Suddenly, his body thoroughly crushed between her and the
corner and unable to move at all, Gerry's self protective
instincts flared and his shields momentarily snapped back into
place.  He froze for several long moments as the he reeled
under his attacker's sensual assault.

She was skilled, this amazon domina, and she had her prey just
where she wanted him.  Grinning malevolently, she slid her
hand under his skirt, and took possession of his cock.

"Guess you like this a heap better than you want to admit,
slut.  A hard dickie doesn't lie." she whispered as she
continued to fondle him.

It was almost too much, too quickly for Gerry.  His safe word
sprang to his mind, his lips and tongue curled to form the
words, his lungs filled with the necessary air.

He never got it out.  Whether by design or by luck, her mouth
descended once again to claim Gerry's, effectively gagging him
while she continued to stroke his rampant erection.  His
imminent orgasm began to clutch at his guts, and Gerry began
struggling even harder to escape.

The Domme also sensed Gerald's imminent climax, and backed off
precisely at the last crucial second.  She just stepped back
and watched as Gerry fought to recover himself, a thoroughly
self satisfied smirk on her face.

In the sudden surprise, it was all Gerry could do not to reach
down there finish what she had started and so rudely had just
interrupted.  Dimly, Gerry realized that was what she was
waiting for.  Her hands were poised to capture his own if he
made any move to grab his aching cock.

Another game, Gerry, he thought to himself.  For a second, he
considered following through and letting the Mistress "punish"
him, but he discarded that idea.  She was a very powerful
woman and his fanny was still very tender from that infernal
spanking slipper. 

Well, he was learning that when one was dealing with Dommes,
unpredictability was an consummation devoutly to be desired. 
Or something like that, he mused.  Without warning, Gerald
went up on his tip toes and laid a loud, smacking kiss of his
own hard on the still smiling lips the surprised Domina.
Gerald took advantage of her momentary amazement to duck
around the woman and then ran away as fast as he could,
squealing in his little girl voice, completely unaware of the
wildly cheering audience or of the small, but growing smile on
Mary's face.

~---------~

Mary had watched Elise's spanking scene and Hera's fondling
scene intently, all the while wishing she knew what was really
happening in Gerry's head.  He was obviously trying so very
hard, she thought.  He'd gotten a fairly nasty surprise when
she'd explained the scene to him.  It was one thing to make a
fool of yourself in front of the woman you love, knowing that
is what she wanted you to do for her.  It was an entirely
different matter to be put on very public display while making
a fool of yourself, particularly for someone with Gerald's
distaste for humiliation play.

Playing the bitch during his afternoon adventure into women's
clothes had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done.
She had been so proud of his efforts, but she had not been
able to let any of that show because the whole point of the
exercise was to get him out onto the floor tonight as a
serving wench. That was where the real lessons would be
learned.  Where Gerald could learn that regardless of how
apparently humiliating something appeared to be to him, here
at the Lodge it was *only* a game.  And that "people" when
used to describe her friends here at the Cabal should not be a
curse word. 

Letting Dina go to him when he fell was the hardest, but now
it looked like she might have won - at least a little because
the lessons were apparently being learned by her beloved. 
Somehow he'd shed at least a part of that infernal self
control of his.  Somehow he'd found it in himself to play the
fool for her and at least seem to enjoy himself while doing
it.  

There was no way the old "I-am-in-control-Gerry" could have
come up with that little topper to Hera's game.  Nor would he
have reacted the way Hera obviously expected, either.  No way
would Gerald ever do something so personal and intimate as
masturbate in public, but what he had done had both shocked
and thrilled Mary.  And the dumbfounded look on Hera's face
had been absolutely priceless.

Mary sat back and signaled Dina to bring her another glass of
the non-alcoholic wine she preferred when she was going to be
scening afterwards.  She had a big night planned.  Her little
serving wench maid was going to get the reward her truly
superb efforts so richly deserved.

The deplorable condition of Gerry's makeup after his escape
from the big bad blond had necessitated another trip to the
Sissy's Room. (as opposed to the Ladies Room where only Dommes
were allowed.  Girl slaves had their own facilities, but often
used the Sissy's Room)

Something caught his eye from his service section.  A tall,
slender auburn haired Domina dressed in white was gesturing,
quite insistently, with her empty wine glass for him to come
to her.  Beside her was a large, powerfully built man,
kneeling at her feet and gazing up at her with love-filled
eyes.  Sighing in soft appreciation of their obvious love,
Gerald began mincing, toward her table, his cramping toes and
insteps screaming every inch of the way.  Only then did he
wonder what the hell she had that long, white-plumed feather
was for.

~--------------~

Gemma slid into the empty chair at Mary's table with a worried
frown on her face.  "How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing okay." she said diffidently as she watched Gerald
make his way towards the white clad domina. "About as well as
he is, I guess.  He's trying so very hard, Gemma, and doing so
very well, but he's walking very near the edge right now,
Gemma.  I hope the women in that section know and understand
that."

"Most do, I think.  You'll notice he hasn't been quite so much
in demand since Hera groped him.  I don't know what surprised
her more - the Gerry didn't try to masturbate for her or that
incredible kiss he laid on her before he took off to get away
from her."

"Yes, I saw her surprise.  Frankly, I'm a little surprised
myself.  Things are actually going much better than I dared
hope.  I was afraid he was going to lose it with Hera."

"We had the safety monitors nearby just in case, but he didn't
lose it.  In fact, he has done very well.  And Rayna's going
to try to help. She is going to see if she can tease him into
a even better frame of mind.  She can do magic with that
feather of hers, and a good laugh and a much-delayed orgasm
may just help him really turn the corner.  We may make an
exhibitionist out your shy little control freak yet, sweetie."

Just then, a helpless, almost hysterical giggle turned
everyone's head toward the red-tressed domina's table.  When
she turned, Mary saw Gerald, stretched out on his back over
Rayna's table, his high heeled feet bound to one pair of legs,
and Rayna's sub-husband Stefan holding Gerald's arms and
pulling his body taut.  

She'd divested Gerry of his almost useless skirt and had left
him only in his hose, garter belt, waist corset and gloves. 
The source of his forced mirth was currently flicking at the
pale white flesh, just above tops of his dark stockings.

That sound almost broke Mary.  It was the first time Gerry had
laughed since they'd left home Friday night.  Maybe there was
still a chance, she dared to let herself hope as another, very
girlish giggle drew her attention back to her lover. 

She'd have to find a few feathers of her own for after the
Cabaret - when she showed Gerry just how much his efforts
pleased her this day.

End Part 17 


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