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Subject: (ASSM) RP: SoulMates Part 7 of 19 (Romance, FemDom, ws, F/m)
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Part Seven     Growth and Endurance
by Tigger
Copyright 1997, all rights reserved

Chapter 16:    Happy Birthday

It was a Friday in late July, and Roselie and I were reviewing
our work lists one last time to make sure everything that had to
be done had gotten done. I wanted nothing left over to distract
me over the next two days. This weekend was going to be mine. 

The weekend before had been one of the now twice-monthly
"Mistress Monique" weekends. Last weekend had been very
demanding, and Monique had been moved to tell me how proud and
pleased she was with me.  In fact, I was beginning to feel pretty
good about the training aspect of this courtship. Regardless of
that positive feeling, however, I was still VERY glad that I did
not have to face that aspect of my love for a few more weeks,
because the corporal aspects of last weekend's training still
colored my backside. She had used her hand, a paddle (thankfully,
a gentler one as directed by Dr. Danvers), and for the first
time, a riding crop in her scenes. Atypically of the way this
type of training had evolved between us, the swats had been given
over the entire weekend. Never enough to drive me to safewording
her, as she had learned more of my physical and willpower limits,
but enough so that I was sitting tenderly the entire weekend.
When I was allowed to sit, that is.

Bruising had been and was still extensive, and Wednesday's
session and mini-sessions had been kept very mild as a result. I
was given long, extensive and highly detailed training in the
finer points of oral worship of Mistress Monique. I was also kept
at a very fine edge of physical frustration. She teased the hell
out me, all the while correcting in the most minute nuance, the
movements of my tongue and lips over a wide variety of erogenous
zones. I had never thought of the back of a woman's knee as
erotic. Monique's are, I remembered happily.

In any case, all tenderness was gone and I was looking forward to
taking Monique to an art exhibit at the Smithsonian she had
wanted to see, and to simply puttering around with her. I made a
mental note to pick up some colorful flowers before picking her
up to go to the museum.

Roselie closed her notebook, and sat back in her chair. "Well,
that is that. Nothing outstanding for this week, and most of next
week's known work well in hand. We can enjoy the weekend. Are you
going shopping this weekend?"

I gave her a blank stare. "I always have to go shopping, but I
don't think that is what you meant. Is there something special?"

Her look of disbelief turned to amusement. "I ought to let you
muddle along and take what you deserve, Evans, but I won't. You'd
both be hurt too much."  She shook her head, trying to control
her laughter. "Wednesday, August third?"

I thought I understood, now, but only nodded with a questioning
look on my face.

"Yes, well, that is Monique's birthday."

"Damn!"  Roselie's laughter only made it worse. "I did not
know... I never thought to check. Oh hell, what an I going to buy
her?"

Roselie was almost in tears by then, laughing so hard. "Poor
Nate, trying so hard to do everything perfectly, and he almost
misses the lady's birthday!"  Then her eyes sent wide and she
laughed even harder. "Omigod, Nate. It is a Wednesday, too! 
Imagine what Mistress would do to you if you forgot her birthday! 
And you such a stickler for calendars."

That was the first time Roselie had ever admitted any knowledge
of Monique's and my little Wednesday rituals. I had been sure
that she had known all about them, what with her teasing and
knowing looks, but this was the first time she had openly talked
about what went on. I wondered how much she did know.  "So, you
DO know, do you?"

Wiping tears from her eyes, and talking in gasps, "Of course I
know. I have been serving her for over two years, Nate. Besides,
she is also a very dear friend. Girls talk, Nate. We talk about
you, sometimes."  She gave me a smirk and then stage whispered
across my desk, "Gonna get some really special undies for her
birthday, Nate?"

My mouth dropped open and I felt the heated color speed to my
hairline. Trying to regain my equilibrium, I sat silently for a
moment or two. You should have known, I told myself. Monique had
told me she wanted to share this aspect of our lives with
Roselie. I should not have been surprised that she had started
already. "Yes, well, whatever I do, Roselie, I will definitely
try to make it special."

Her grinning nod of approval told me that I had handled her
thrust about as well as could be expected. We chit-chatted for a
bit longer until Roselie had to leave for her car pool. Monique
had a late meeting of the company executives that night, so I
would not see her until tomorrow afternoon. I packed up my own
things and made my way to my car, and then to home.

At home, I sat quietly brooding over coffee in my den. I had
plans to make. What gifts could I give to Monique?  I definitely
had things to do. The only problem was that I needed help to pull
off part of what I wanted to do. Roselie was too close to
Monique, and might accidently blurt out what I had in mind.
Sudden inspiration had me running for my phone book to consult
the yellow pages. The number I found was to an answering service,
but they relayed my call for me, and shortly before nine that
night, I had all the help I could handle.

Once I knew the whats, hows and wheres, the actual doing was
completed well before I was due at Monique's house. All the
gifts, including the very special one I had needed help with,
were locked in my car trunk, wrapped in gaily colored paper.
Amazing, I thought, they even did the wrapping for me.

Wednesday seemed not to want to happen that week, probably
because it was the first time in weeks that I had actually looked
forward to Wednesday.  Since I had made my bargain with Monique.
Finally, the big day arrived.

Rigged out in the (yes, Roselie) very carefully selected panties,
and carrying the two gifts that would be given during the day, I
sailed into the office, as excited as if were my birthday. I made
coffee, got my morning work out of the way, and waited for
Roselie to arrive. Monique arrived before she did, though, and
she frowned before returning my normal, everyday, unbirthday-like
greeting as she went into her office.

Once Roselie arrived, I asked her to let me know the minute she
could come into Monique's office with me for a little surprise.
She looked at me curiously, and when I would not elaborate, she
tore through her morning routine in record time. At shortly after
nine, carrying one of the gifts, and two other gift-wrapped
parcels, I ushered Roselie into Monique's office. Monique looked
up in some consternation when she realized I was not alone. I
imagine she was looking forward to baiting me about forgetting
Mistress Monique's birthday.

Roselie and Monique both looked to me to lead off; Monique
because she knew I had brought Roselie with me to what was
normally our first play time of the day on Wednesdays, Roselie
because she had no idea what I wanted. "Monique," I said softly,
"Would you please lock the doors?"  Curiosity, surprise and maybe
a whisper of hope flitted across her very expressive face as she
reached up and activated the door locks. 

Once they clunked shut, I walked to Monique and offered her the
gift box. "Mistress Monique, May I please wish you, a very happy
birthday, and offer you this token of my deep affection and
respect?"

I have surprised Monique before, even a couple of times in her
"Mistress-mode", but never before had I seen that look of total
disbelieving wonder on her face. It made me feel wonderful,
because, in truth, it was the first of my gifts. It was the first
time I had spoken to or of Mistress Monique with anything
resembling affection. Monique knew I tolerated this aspect of her
personality, that I strived to challenge her in that role, but I
did it because of my goals for Monique. Today, I had started the
process of trying to stop seeing them as separate; the Monique
persona from the Mistress persona. 

Her hand trembled a bit as she took the proffered gift. It was
box shaped, about one and one half feet long by six inches by
three inches. Once opened, the gift wrapped revealed a wooden
carrying case, much like an instrument case. The wood was a rich,
glossy cherry with fine brass fixtures on the handle and for the
closures. An engraved brass plate proclaimed the box and it's
contents to be the "Property of Mistress Monique" in elegant
calligraphy. She opened it and peaked in, keeping the box
positioned so that neither Roselie nor I could see inside. She
gasped and opened it wide. 

She pulled out the black leather implement and looked at it
wonderingly. "A tawse!"  She said, reverently sliding her hands
along the fine leather and gently touching the split fingers at
its tip. Then she held it up for Roselie to see who oo'ed and
ah'ed over it, too. "An old style tawse. Where in heaven did you
find such a thing, Nathan?  How did you get it?  How did KNOW to
get one?  I mean, I have wanted one for quite a while, but have
not had the time to look for one."

Her obvious delight in the new toy softened the anxiety I felt
for what I knew would shortly come of her having the thing. "Dr.
Danvers is in the Yellow Pages under Physician, Mistress. She put
me in touch with the right people."  I did not tell her that she
had also used her influence to help me get the work done on very
short notice. "She also knew you wanted one, so that made the
choice easier."  

I had originally planned on buying her a whip, but Jennifer had
felt that I was still a little new to the game to put such an
implement in Monique's hand. "She might decide that you are
telling her you are ready to start playing really deeply, Nathan.
If you are, well, that is one thing. If you aren't yet sure.." 
and had gone on to tell me about the tawse. "Besides, if YOU buy
it, you can buy one with nice soft leather fingers. It won't save
you forever, dear, but it will give you a while longer to develop
your mental and emotional pain controls."

"Thank you, Mr. Evans."  Her eyes were glistening with moisture
and with the glow of her smile. "It is lovely."  She swished it a
couple of strokes to hear the air whistle about it. "I will look
forward to using it."

I cleared my throat to catch her attention. She looked up at me.
"Mistress, if I might speak and continue?  I have another gift?" 
She indicated that I should proceed, but gave Roselie a confused
look as I handed each of them an identical package. Slowly,
recognition and wonder filled her eyes as she recognized the
package to be the type in which I wrapped her the panty of the
week. "Mistress, you told me that eventually, you wanted to
involve Roselie. You graciously acceded to my request that she
not participate, at least for awhile. Mistress Monique, I still
only want to make love with you and to you, but as part of my
gift to you, I withdraw the requested limit on Roselie's
involvement in my periods of submission to you."  Both women were
grinning at me and each other like loons. "Emblematic of that
decision are these packages. If you will open them, please?"

Bright red paper was shredded in seconds, as both women held up
two seemingly identical panties. While they had unwrapped theirs,
I had unwrapped mine, and was folding my trousers.

The panties were satin, french cut and vermillion with white lace
piping at the waistband. "Mistress, this is the first time I have
ever given you panties different from mine. Roselie's and mine
are identical. The difference is subtle to see, but major in
implication."  I turned to face them. 

I had them put the panties side by side on Monique's desk. The
front panel Roselie's pair, and mine, were embroidered in thick
white script "Mistress Monique's".  Monique's pair was likewise
embroidered, but hers said simply "Mistress Monique".

"You once told me that one of your dreams was to mark us with a
sign of our mutual devotion, dear Mistress. This is not
permanent, and it is not quite mutual, at least from my
perspective, but I wanted to make a start."

She ran a nail along the fine stitching on Roselie's, then her
own. "How?"

I blushed. That had been the hardest part, because there was only
one way to do it. "I bought the panties at a lingerie shop,
Mistress. They make many specialty items there as well. I,
ummmmm, just asked the saleslady to have it done."  Actually, the
lady had not so much a lifted an eyebrow at my request, simply
told me that would triple the price of the panties. "Ummm,
Mistress, do they meet with your approval?"

"Meet with my approval?"  She shouted. Suddenly, she was out of
her chair and plastered against me, her arms wrapped tightly
around me. A second impact heralded the arrival of Roselie. Both
women were hugging me and each other, and crying and laughing.
After a few very pleasant minutes, Monique pushed away, and after
patting her eyes with a tissue, said. "Oh, yes, Mr. Evans, they
most definitely meet with my approval."  

She handed me the panties, and I knelt before her. I slipped the
panties up her legs under the watchful eye of both women. When
Roselie reached over to pick hers up, Monique stopped her. "Mr.
Evans will see to that, Roselie. Please remove your
undergarments."  Roselie did. Fortunately, she did not wear
pantyhose either. Monique handed me Roselie's pair, and I
performed the same very intimate task on the shorter, but rounder
bottom of Roselie. There was one other surprising difference.
Roselie did not have any pubic hair. Monique told me to stand,
and I did to the welcoming embraces of more hugs.

"I think we will call this session at an end, Mr. Evans."  Which
meant I could dress again.

I hesitated. "Umm, Mistress, there is one thing more."  She
looked at me with renewed interest, and indicated that I should
proceed once more. "Your birthday spanking. I thought Roselie
should be here and participate, too."

"WHAT???  You think YOU are going to spank ME??  TODAY??!?!" 
Laughter bubbled up at the thought.

"No no no!  I meant with me in the classic position of whipping
boy."  I pointed to the tawse. "I won't even count so you won't
be telling me your age."  I said cheekily. Her answering grin was
positively wicked and was matched by the one on Roselie's gamine
face.

She did not count either, but I think that after she and Roselie
got done playing with that toy on my butt, I had taken a lot more
than her age and one to be good on. I was very grateful for
Jennifer's kind advice on what to buy. My butt stung, and it
definitely felt warm, but I could sit the rest of the day.

Our Wednesday night scene on her birthday did not last long. I
got another birthday spanking, and was "forced" to worship her
orally to several orgasms before she finally called an end to it.
Actually, I think that the stack of brightly colored packages
that I left in the foyer may have contributed to her desire to
finish quickly. After a quick dressing, I retrieved the gifts and
brought them into the den where she was waiting impatiently.

Watching her tear into her gifts was a deeply satisfying
experience. The blaze of joy and pleasure that lit her face made
my gut knot. Nothing was more important than being able to bring
that kind of happiness into her life. And if that meant that I
would periodically feel the fool, or not be able to sit
comfortably, well, I could pay that price. Happily.

Each gift was ripped from its packaging and suitably admired with
lots of hugs and kisses of gratitude thrown in. The first gift
was a fresh bakery cake with her name emblazoned on it in
frosting. The royal purple satin nightgown and peignoir set was a
big hit, for both of us. Particularly when she stripped off the
severe white blouse and tailored black slacks she wore for the
session, down to the skin, and slipped it on right there in the
den. The knot in my belly got a lot more urgent. The last gift
was a gift certificate at a gourmet cook ware store in the city.
I had hated the impersonality of a gift certificate, but what I
knew about designer cooking things would fill a short paragraph.
The gift certificate was a good compromise.

The gifts opened and the wrapping paper reduced to colorful shred
on the floor, we moved to sit on the rug in front of the
fireplace, while feeding each other the sweet gooey cake with our
fingers. It was a very good thing the new peignoir was washable.
I had a very hard time getting all the crumbs of cake and
frosting up with my tongue. When the clock struck eleven, I made
the effort to leave. Monique blocked my exit by standing in the
door way to the hall, her hands locked on the door molding,
shaking her head slowly.

"Uh uh, Mr. Evans."  She said with a soft, sultry smile. "It is
still my birthday, and I have one more present I want to unwrap." 
Her hands moved to the buckle of my belt. She leaned up and
kissed me softly, never letting go of my belt. The knot twisted
hard and passion flared hot and needy. She turned, and still
holding my belt, led me up the stairs to her bedroom. 

It was a good thing that I had taken to keeping a spare suit and
toiletries at work. I never did get home that night. And both
Monique and I spent the better part of the next day with very
vacant and dreamy looks on our faces.

At lunch, I took her to the Monuments and we walked, hand in
hand, along the cherry tree lined path that wound around the
water near the memorials. The further we walked, the closer our
bodies became until we were all but joined from hip to shoulder.
The blossoms were long since gone for this year, but that did not
matter. I would not have noticed anyway.

Chapter 17:    Moments in Time - Courtship and Trial

Once we had taken the step of becoming lovers, that trust and
commitment helped foster the confidence we both needed to take
other risks. I took her home, to my upstate New York roots. My
kid sister, Gerri, loved her on sight.  Monique fell hard for my
niece and nephew,  That surprised me. I had never thought of her
as a person who enjoyed kids. Other possibilities, ones I had not
allowed myself to consider since my first wife's miscarriage,
started to present themselves. We weren't too old, were we?

While I was grilling burgers and hot dogs, my sister cornered me
and told me, in the very blunt terms of a bossy younger sister,
that I better not let that lady get away from me.

We walked through the woods near my old home to a waterfall gorge
where we picnicked on its grassy shore. Summer wild flowers were
splashes of vibrant color in the green meadow. In the sultry
warmth of the summer sun, closeness became passion, and we made
love in the shade of a great sugar maple. The waters of the falls
catch basin were cool and sweet as we frolicked like children,
skinny dipping to wash away the sweat and sandy dirt. With the
spray of the falls cascading over us, we made love again, nearly
drowning when our climax claimed us.

Later, dressed, sated and warmed by the sun, we walked back to
the road and our waiting car. As we started off, a "For Sale"
sign caught my attention. The land we had been roaming was on the
market. I made a quick note of the Realtor's number on my car's
dashboard notepad, much to Monique's delight.

There was no buildings on the plot, only twenty five acres of
what had been farm, grazing and wooded lands. The property was on
the market because the current owner was no longer farming and
wanted the money to pay for needed improvements to the old
farmhouse located on the part of the original farm plot he was
keeping. Impulsive action had always been unusual for me, but
that was before Monique. Before we left for home, I had put
earnest money down to buy the land. Gerri was going to keep track
of the progress of the sale with the Realtor and her husband, a
local general contractor, was going to look into likely spots for
a summer vacation cottage on the land.

Chapter 18:    Fun and Games

Maybe the strengthening commitment gave Monique more courage,
more confidence in me. I don't know, but she started becoming
much more open with me, in fact, volunteering information about
her time in Europe as a professional, and about her domination
experiences since her return to the United States. She actually
had very few limits in what she would do for a client; even fewer
restrictions in what she would do for a submissive she cared for
personally. If a submissive wanted something that did no one
harm, then she would do her best to give that person the maximum
benefit of the experience she could provide, or that they could
really take. "Actually, the only thing I have ever refused to do
was scat."  

When I gave her a blank look she explained the term. She did not
laugh at me when I blanched either, simply told me that there
were safe ways to play those games, but that she could not get
past her own inhibitions to play them. "I did most everything
else, though."  I asked her what was the most extreme event she
had ever participated in. "A client of Sondra's wanted to be
seriously flogged. Not the routine session, where there would be,
at worst, some bruising and welting that would keep him sleeping
on his tummy and eating his dinner standing up. No, this was
different. He wanted to be stretched, taken where he had never
been. He even arranged for medical assistance and two weeks
vacation to recover from it.

"Sondra had a physician who was herself a dominatrix oversee the
scene. We made him hold a rubber ball throughout entire
thrashing. Every time he dropped it, we stopped and the doctor
would examine him. Her word was law. Either she or he, using his
safeword, or the Mistress in charge of the correction could stop
the scene."  She shook her head at the memory. "He took an
ungodly amount of punishment. I was the warm up, with two dozen
strokes of my paddle. Two other women used a rattan cane and a
strap on him. Sondra herself finished him with a very heavy,
multi stranded whip. The whole thing took over two hours because
we stretched it out, and because, towards the end, he kept
dropping the ball."

I just looked at her. It was beyond my comprehension. "Why?" was
all I could say.

Monique understood what I wanted, what I was asking. "I am not
sure there is an answer that will satisfy you, Nathan. He did it,
because it affirmed his image of himself, as a strong person, who
could and would take great pain. One thing I did not mention was
that his wife, who was also his Mistress, attended the spectacle.
She sat in front of him, throughout the session, watching him
take that beating. She never said a word, but whenever he looked
like he was going to break, to give in, he would look at her, and
she would smile at him. Somehow, each time, he smiled back, not a
pretty smile, mind you, but a smile none the less, and then he
would signal for the Mistress to continue his flogging. Although
he never said so, I know that he did it for her, that he took
that incredible beating as a gift for his Wife-Mistress. Just as
I know that, she was incredibly honored and pleased with his gift
of devotion."

She was right. I did not understand, at least, not all of it. I
could understand taking a great deal in the name of love and
devotion. I could not understand a mentality that needed that
type of demonstration. I told Monique that, questioning what type
of insecurity fostered the need for such abject displays of
devotion.

"He could have quit, Nathan. At anytime. She could have done
nothing to extend the scene because our commitment, our agreement
was with him. He was there, as he was with her, purely of his own
free will. The gift he gave, Nathan, was not of pain, but of
constancy, of commitment. It is indescribable, that feeling, to
know that he can leave, and in spite of whatever you ask,
whatever you supposedly demand, he does not quit; he does not
leave. She was crying with him, Nathan, when we took him down.
She was the one who saw to the worst of his cuts. She cherished
him for that gift. I don't know any other way to explain it to
you."

I still did not understand.

The other result of her increasing comfort was that her games
took a definite turn for the kinkier following her birthday and
our vacation in New York. The Wednesday after our return, found
me in one of her bedrooms, nude and blindfolded, tied spreadeagle
on a bed. The bed's mattress was sheathed in a stretchy sheet
that felt and smelled like a latex condom.

Now, parts of Monique's games were beginning to sometimes turn me
on. This session was, or at least, started out as a major turn
on. She called it learning her body by oral Braille. She would
present a part of her to my mouth and I would have to identify it
by lips and tongue alone. A correct answer earned me a favor, and
an incorrect answer earned a penalty. Favors were kisses, a
gentle sucking of my cock or a massage on tight muscles. 
Penalties were teasing pinches, nipple tweaks, bites and
unmerciful tickles - nothing really hurtful, just sharply
sensual. By the time she settled her venus mound over my mouth, I
was rampantly aroused. She straddled my head, and bent over to
ply my penis with teasing little licks that just drove me mad. I
responded by trying to consume her whole, to leave not a single
nerve ending in her sex untitillated.

As her hips starting the uncontrollable dance to fulfillment, she
suddenly sat up, and planting herself more firmly on my face. Her
buttocks relaxed momentarily to slip my nose deeply into her
crease before they tightened to grip me fiercely, all but cutting
off my air. She was in the full throes of her climb, now, rocking
back and forth on my nose and mouth, her cries and pants muffled
by the lock of her thighs on my ears.

The blindfold was swept away just as her body went rigid for a
one two three-count, and then a keening wail of pure feminine
pleasure pierced through. Her weight bounced up and down,
squashing my nose into my face and making me bite my lip. I tried
to ride with her, but the firm mattress kept me from avoiding
much of the battering ride. She relaxed, and bent back to my
cock, engulfing it in the wet heat of her mouth, her fingers
teasing the shaft and balls. I was only seconds away from my own
orgasm. I started to spasm, the surge unstoppable, and then, my
eyes, nose and face were deluged in hot, acrid fluid. I bucked,
trying to avoid the stinging wet, but she only gripped me tighter
with her legs, sucked me deeper and started a second wild climax
of her own.

It took her a while to calm me down, once I realized what she had
done. Although I had read of uroganglia, or water sports in the
books she gave me, I had never anticipated having them played on
me. What upset me the most was how great, how much fun the scene
had been before she had urinated on me. Scenes that were exciting
and fun, without reservation, were rare and this one was heading
in that direction when she had "ruined" it.
We talked long into the night after that. Her assurances that
this had not endangered my health since she was herself in good
health helped cool hot running emotions. And a shower, during
which Monique was VERY meticulous in seeing that I was THOROUGHLY
sanitized, washed away the bad smell and most of the bad
feelings. Particularly since that culminated in a wonderful, slow
lovemaking in her huge bathtub surrounded by hot soapy water and
mountains of bubbles. 

Monique let me work my way through the emotions of that scene by
myself over the next few days. She did not mention it nor did she
change how she related to me at the office or in our growing
private lives. She simply let the whole matter stew and waited
for me to come to her. "Piss on you" has always been a
particularly vile epithet, and I came to realize that I was
reacting to that. Recognizing that fact, and knowing that Monique
rarely did things she did not enjoy, I worked to deal with my
anger. 

Added to the emotional reaction was that it had come as a
complete surprise - a very big, very unnerving surprise. When I
questioned her in the safety of her unlocked office, Monique's
response had been one part shy lady and one part aggressive
domme. "Like many domination fantasies, water sports is about
power, Nathan, power and the expression of that power. I don't do
pee games often, but when I do, it is an incredible feeling,
having that much control over someone, and knowing that someone
cares enough, trusts enough to surrender that control. I was
afraid you would refuse out of hand if I suggested this type of
play, so I surprised you with it. Now, you have done it, and you
know that I like doing it to you. I will leave the final decision
for future water play in your hands, Nathan. I won't do this
again without you agreeing to the scene before we play."

She knew, of course, that denying her anything she found
pleasurable was very difficult for me. Telling me it was my
choice was just another way of forcing my ultimate capitulation
on the subject, but I was still concerned about the health issues
involved. Not that I thought Monique would be untruthful about
something that critical, but there are times that looking
something up for yourself is the only way to put an issue to
rest.

Reviewing some of the text materials relaxed me by reinforcing
what Monique had told me. I ended up reading the entire sections
about other unusual practices that were normally considered
taboo, at least in our society. Strangely, I found at least one
other of those taboos very exciting. 

Thus, after careful consideration, I decided that I could live
with water sports. It certainly had been exciting up until the
surprise of it, and the orgasm and the subsequent lovemaking had
been glorious. We would have to try it again when I knew it was
coming. Smiling, I remembered the first time I had screwed up my
courage to "eat pussy". Shortly after starting, I was hooked.
Now, it was my favorite way of making love. I would definitely
try yellow sports again, and decided that I would probably come
to enjoy them.  Besides, if I was going to convince Monique to
let me try the other, I might need the water sports as quid pro
quo.

Monique's response to my acceptance of these games was
gratifying, to say the least. Squealing in pleasure, she threw
her body into my arms and hugged me so hard I thought my neck
would snap. "Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man. I was so afraid
you'd decide that I had gone too far, that I had abused limits."

"It occurred to me.  Even though we never said you could not pee
on me, Monique."  I told her in a mock serious voice.

She became serious. "There are limits, and there are limits. Just
because we have not formally negotiated some limits does not make
them any less real. If you thought some physical act or
requirement so unreasonable that you did not even consider
discussing it, then that is a limit. Your limit, Nathan. I may
not know of it, but it still exists, it is still real. In this
case, well, I decided to walk the line, and see what came of it." 
She hugged me tightly and kissed me thoroughly. "And, I guess I
just got lucky."

"Well, just remember two things, sweetheart."  She pushed back to
look up at me intently. "Don't count too much on luck for one."

She nodded. "Okay, that is fair. What is the other?"

"You owe me one.  I get to surprise you and you have to go along
under the same conditions."  

Her brows knitted as she considered what I meant, then shrugged.
"If you really think you can, Nate, you are welcome to try. I
would not want to think you staid."  That earned her a nip on the
ear.

Not every confrontation ended so equitably. Later that month, I
went into Monique's office with a hot problem from one of the
hotels in Chicago. The problem had fallen on my desk, initially,
because Monique was closeted with the other V.P.'s. I had just
hung up the phone, having made the last arrangement for how I
proposed to solve the mini-disaster when I saw Monique sail by my
open door into her office. If she had not shown up at that very
moment, I would have simply set the whole thing in motion and
briefed her afterwards, but she was here now and she was the
boss. Picking up my notebook, I went into her office, my mind
fixed on the problem at hand.

The doors locked immediately behind me, but I did not notice. I
have a habit of mind that, in time of crisis, fixates on the
problem and the solution to the exclusion of everything else.
Right now, the solution had me in its grasp. "Monique, I need
your.."

"WHAT did you call me, MISTER Evans?"  Her near yell brought me
up short, and frankly, confused me. What the hell was that all
about?

I tried again. "Monique, we have a problem.. This is impor.."

"Evidently, we most certainly do!  Let me remind you that this IS
Wednesday, the doors ARE locked and YOU are Mistress Monique's
slave."

Finally, I saw what she was getting at. I also saw red. I had
just spent two solid hours trying to fix this disaster, and she
was so fixated on playing her damned dominance and submission
games that she was not even letting me get a word in edgewise.

Totally ignoring her, I walked to her desk, and picked up the
intercom to call Roselie. She answered halfway through the first
ring. "Roselie?  Nathan. Call Mr. Burgess in Public Relations and
tell him to go ahead. Monique is not interested in the problem at
the Chicago hotel, so he can go ahead and implement the plan we
cooked up. No, don't bother to tell him all that, just tell him
he has the go-ahead."  I listened a few more seconds. "Nope, she
is just more interested in being Mistress than in playing *at*
Executive Vice President. Bye."  I hung up the phone and turned
into the shocked, wide open eyes of Monique.

"If you are interested, you can come to my office and I will tell
you about the problem you just solved."  I reached over, tripped
open the locks and strode out of the room before she could
recover. In my office, I threw down my notebook and was out of
the office in seconds. I took my entire lunch hour walking in the
park near the office. I was still pretty steamed when it was time
to return, so I stopped off at Burgess's office to check on the
PR problem at Chicago. Fortunately, we had been in time to defuse
the situation there, and it looked like that crisis was not going
to become a real problem. Unlike what I had waiting for me
upstairs, I thought.

Back in the office, I was greeted by the sight of Monique,
sitting in my chair, with her high heeled feet resting on my desk
and her eyes shut. She opened them and sat up when I moved into
my office. "Ahhh... Burgess called while you were out. Your plan
worked."  She said in a quiet tone.  I moved over to a chair I
usually offered to guests and sat down.

"I know. I stopped on my way back up. So, now you know what we
were dealing with?"  She nodded jerkily.

"That Mistress and Executive crack was pretty low, Nathan,
particularly to Roselie."

"Yes, well, I apologize. For saying it to Roselie, not for saying
it or thinking it because it was true. You never gave me a chance
to even tell you what was going down after having been out of the
office all damned morning. And this is an office, dammit, and
office work OUGHT to be the damned priority."

"There is no need to curse, Nathan, you've made your point. I
don't suppose that we can continue this discussion in my office? 
It is more private and more comfortable in there."  She offered
tentatively, starting to rise.

I shook my aching head. "I don't think so. It is over, done with,
but since it IS Wednesday, and I am still angry, I don't think I
care to be in that office just now."

She looked hurt and I felt like an ass, but I was still an angry
ass, so I held my place. "All right. I find that I don't feel
very playful just now, either. Please, tell me one thing, though,
Nathan. Why didn't you use your safeword?  If the time for my
games was inappropriate, why not use that to get my attention?" 
It was the very question I had been wrestling with myself.
Surely, what I had done instead had been needlessly cruel, even
humiliating to her.

"I never even thought about it, Monique. All I was thinking of
was the potential major problems of the Chicago situation, and
the need for quick action. Then you would not even listen to me.
You were right. I did not realize that it was Wednesday and what
that meant until you told me, and by that time, I was too angry
to care." 

She walked to the door, and opened it before turning back to face
me. "Yes, I understand. I can see how not listening to you in
that situation would upset you. In my defense, I had a wonderful
idea for a game that I thought we would both enjoy for a change,
and was overeager to get started. I guess we both lose today,
Nathan."  She turned back to the door, then stopped again. "In
the future if we are still playing, I will let you take care of
business first. Since that IS the priority, or at least, it would
seem to be YOUR priority."  Her voice was coldly mocking. "Thank
you, Nathan. Very efficient of you."  And she left, leaving me to
feel like a heel.

Roselie came in and sat down, shaking her head. "Screwed that one
up, Nate."

I shot her a scowl that was at least part anger at Monique, part
anger at me. "I was right, dammit. And what the hell were you
doing listening?"

"Right?  Interesting choice of words. And to answer your other
question, remember that your office is not sound proofed. Now.
Was it right to embarrass her the way you did?"  Direct hit,
Roselie. "And was it right to imply that what happens in this
office is more important than what the two of you are trying to
build together?"  Her tone was chiding, and made me feel like a
school boy caught putting a frog in a well-liked teacher's desk
to prove he wasn't teacher's pet. And she was right. I really
should have used the safeword once I realized what was afoot, but
I didn't, and now being "right" did not seem so "right" anymore.
"You have some major groveling and scraping to do, my friend. And
*I*" she said with awful emphasis, "Hope she makes you savor each
mouthful of dirt slowly."  She drew out the last word, making it
several syllables long. She stood, and stomped (at least as much
as her heels would permit) out of my office. I had to get my own
coffee and my own mail for the rest of that day.

I was waiting when Monique finally emerged from her office. I had
moved one of the waiting chairs to directly in front of her door
and had sat there since Roselie had departed. She stopped and did
a double take when she saw me obviously waiting for her, her face
going quickly from surprised to blank.

She started to walk around and past me but I moved to block her
path. She gave me a weary, disgusted look as her purse and
briefcase sagged floorward in her hands. "Look, Nathan, I am not
in any condition for any more confrontations on the inappropriate
nature of my behavior. I have admitted you were in the right, but
let's not press your luck too far today, all right?  Now, please,
let me by. I am exhausted and I want to go home."  

I reached down and took her case. She let go immediately rather
than continue even the slightest skin to skin contact. "I am not
here for that."  I said quietly. "I want to apologize."

She grimaced. "Whatever for?  I should know better than to play
at work. The time you caught me with Roselie should have been a
lesson to me."  She shot me a glare reminding me how that was
ended. "I am disappointed, though. I had hoped you were loosening
up, becoming more comfortable with the little rituals. Such as
safe words and their uses."  
  
"Monique, I am sorry. I should have used the safeword to get your
attention. While it is true that it never crossed my mind to use
it in that situation, I should never have done what I did or said
the things I said to Roselie. Your games have not interfered with
anything before this, and truthfully, they would not have
interfered today if I had not lost my temper."  I grinned
ruefully. "I do have one. And commitment to doing a good job is
one of my quickest triggers."

"Very well, I accept your apology. I forgive you. Anything else? 
I really want to leave."  She gave me an expectant, bored look.

I should not have expected this to be easy. I had hurt her,
badly, and she may have said the words, but that was not the way
she actually felt. I pulled out two envelopes. "You can use
either or both of these, as you wish."

She opened the first, read it and all but snarled at me when she
tore it up. "Dammit, Nate, you are going to have to quit throwing
letters of resignation at me when we quarrel. We are going to
quarrel. We are two strong minded, strong willed people who have
differences and we will clash."  She threw the tiny squares of
paper at me. "THAT is not the answer."  Breathing a sigh of
relief, I watched as she opened the other envelope and extracting
the two sheets of paper contained inside. The first was a
vacation request form, asking for the remainder of the week off.
She shuffled the other page to the front. Her eyes snapped to
mine and then back to the page.

Her face turned black with fury. "An offer to void my promise
concerning go-no go corporal discipline and to present yourself
for whatever retribution I deem fit??"  She was trembling in
anger now. "Retribution??  RETRIBUTION??  You think for one
instant that I would fall so low as to degrade my art for THAT? 
For revenge?  Damn you, Nate."

A sharp nailed finger jabbed hard into my chest. I think she
would have drawn blood except for the lapelled sports coat.
"First, that is abuse, not dominance. I do NOT abuse people. And
secondly," the finger jabbed again harder hitting the already
tender spot with unerring accuracy. "You are my LOVER!  I am IN
love with you. I am considering MARRYING you, you damned
blockheaded male!  I would never abuse anyone that way, let alone
the man I love."  

As quickly as the storm had started, it subsided. She again
looked weary and spent. "I am not up for this, Nathan. I don't
feel well and I would like to go home."  She was practically
reeling, as if that last emotional outburst had taken her last
reserves.

I moved to support her gently, and kept her briefcase. "C'mon" I
said, "let me help you up to your suite."

She shook her head in an exaggerated, child like motion. She was
exhausted. "No, I want to go home. I don't want to be HERE
tonight." she said in a tired, but petulant voice.

"You are in no shape to drive."  I said, trying to sound firm and
authoritative.

"I will be fine, I just want to go home."  She swayed slightly
and looked a little green around the gills to me. I tightened my
grip around her waist, afraid she would keel over on me. Still,
she tried to pull away from me.

"Let me take you home. I will take a cab back to my place so you
will have your car in the morning."  I could almost see the will
to fight draining out of her. At last, she nodded, too weary to
fight anymore.

She did not resist as I helped her into her car and got in to
drive out now familiar route to Great Falls. The evening was
unseasonably cool for the Greater Washington area in early
August, and I cracked open the windows to let in the fresh air
once we were off the Beltway. At her door, my attention no longer
had to be fixed on driving a strange car, I turned to Monique.
She looked awful. Her face drawn and her eyes still closed, she
looked incredibly fragile and that as much as anything scared the
hell out of me.

I hustled her into the house and got her settled on a couch in
the den. I checked her forehead for a fever, but found none.
Still, the obvious discomfort on her face and in her body's
position really concerned me. I wondered if I should call a
doctor and said so.

Listlessly, she shook her head. "I am not ill, Nathan. I will be
fine."

"You look damned ill. I am going to call Jennifer."

A tired grin answered that. "Oh, so it is Jennifer now, is it?  I
had forgotten she was the mover behind that lovely tawse strap
you gave me for my birthday. Nathan. I do NOT need a doctor." 
The grimace of pain that crossed her face gave serious cause to
doubt.

"That does it!  You hurting!  I am calling Dr. Danvers."  I
headed for the phone, when her plaintive cry stopped me.

"Naaa-ate!"  The disgusted sound came out in two distinct
syllables. "I am not ill. My..."  She actually flushed. "Ummm,
monthly visitor hit me this afternoon, rather harder than usual.
Normally, my period is fairly easy, and I barely notice it except
for the inconvenience. However, about once a year, Nature has a
way of forcibly reminding me that I am female, and this is one of
those times. I will be fine in the morning. Just go home and let
me be."

"No way!  I love you, although I have been an ass today, and you
need some coddling. I am staying."  I said with as much authority
as I could muster.

She chuckled in spite of herself. "Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. What
do you think you are going to do?  Hold my hand?  I will be fine.
I have lived in this body with its little foibles for enough
years to get through this."

"If it will help, I will hold your hand. I will do what ever else
you need. Debbie, my ex, used to like warm things on her tummy
and back rubs to relax the muscles and relieve the cramping. I
will fill hot water bottles, find heating pads, tuck you in, make
soup or tea...."

She grabbed her stomach in distress. "Please, do NOT talk about
food just now."  She resettled her self. "Well, if you are going
to stay, you may as well be useful. Entertain me, Evans, distract
me."  I looked at her blankly. She pointed to a doored
entertainment cabinet. Inside, I found... "Board games?"

She grinned. "Yes, board games. You are pretty good at conquering
the world at Risk, Mr. Retired Navy Officer, but how are you at
Monopoly?"  

Not as good as she was. I got stomped, but her improved animation
heartened me. Toward the end of the game, she even managed,
before completely and humiliatingly bankrupting me, to force down
some tea and toast.

She made sounds like shooing me off home so she could go to bed,
and I demurred. "I won't insist on sharing your bed, love, but I
am going to be here in case you need me in the night."

She gave me a dirty look. "Afraid to sleep with me because I am
'unclean'?'" 

I gave a bark of laughter. "Not a bit of it. The idea of woman
expressing her femininity in such a basic way is a turn on for
me. The thought of YOU doing it turns me on incredibly."  Her
stunned look of disbelief made me chuckle again. "Trust me, you
always excite me and every facet of you turns me on in one way or
another. I just thought I might not be welcome after today. I
have not had a chance to sufficiently grovel yet, and figured
that asking for your bed would be pushing my luck."

I had, for once, surprised her. "Grovel?  Is that what you have
been doing?"

I gave her what I hoped was a dismissing shrug. "No, I waited for
you at work to grovel. Since then however, I have been taking
care of the woman that I love. We can go back to groveling when
you are up to handling your end of it."   We both laughed and she
stood up to hug me.

"I am too messy for love making, Nathan, but if you are going to
insist on staying here, I am going to insist that you stay in my
bed."  

She was wrong, at least about the lovemaking part. She did try to
convince me, though, and came to bed in floor length flannel
granny gown that almost made her curvy body look shapeless. Good
thing I already knew what she looked like and have excellent
visualization skills. A gentle back massage relieved her
cramping, and aroused her until she was arching into my hands and
purring. 

Slipping one arm under her tummy, I lifted her hips until she was
on her knees, then quickly moved under the skirt of her gown. I
laid on my back and shouldered my way up between her splayed legs
until I was looking up at her pantied crotch. Her panties bulged
in front, evidence of the sanitary pad she had put on. She
realized what I had done and where I was and tried to shift away,
but I caught her hips in my hands and held her. I swiftly slid
her panties down her thighs, effectively tieing her legs together
around my head. The scent was strong, but feminine. I took a
tentative taste. It was still the familiar flavor of Monique, but
a little saltier, even a little coppery, but not nasty or even
unpleasant. Sort of like the taste of licking a bleeding cut when
you were a kid.

I became bolder, slipping my tongue out to tease the little
places I had learned so well from both Monique and Mistress
Monique over the past few months.  Her hips rocked hard at the
teasing touches, and she squealed. Her legs started pumping
again, trying to escape, but the panties and my teasing hands
held her firm. "Nathan!!  Stop that, you can't want that.. I flow
hard from the staaarrrrttt!"  Her voice breaking as I fixed my
attention momentarily on the swollen bud at the top of her woman
mound. In short order, the skills I had learned and my own
natural enthusiasm erased her will to resist. Feathery licks
combed her silky hairs, parting them to reveal the treasures for
my feasting. Hard, pointed tongue licks outlined her lips, and
teased around, but not on her clitoris. She was starting to grind
herself against me, trying to increase the sensation, the
friction, but I held her back, lightening the caresses to drive
her higher. "Damn you, Nathan, if you going to eat me, then EAT
me. Harder, damn you!  There!! Yes!! That's it!"  Her commentary
came fast and furious.

I slipped one hand up to tease at her nipples, gently flicking
them with a finger nail. The flavor of copper became stronger,
and the taste of her became sharper, stronger, but I was as far
gone as she was and kept going deeper, kept savoring and
worshiping more fully. A sharp scream announced her first orgasm,
but I did not stop. I kept worrying at the little places that
became super sensitive after her climax and drove her back up
before she had a chance to completely come down. She was nearly
incoherent as I licked, teased, tickled and kissed. My nose got
repeatedly mashed by the sharp point of her pubic bone as she
thrust down hard to meet my tongue.

I raised my mouth to her clitoris and sucked it in, holding it
gently with lip covered teeth. Making my tongue as hard as I
could, I vibrated just the tip end back and forth across her
woman's erection as fast as I could. She sat up and went rigid,
unmoving for the space of three long heartbeats, and then
screamed in triumph. Her thighs locked hard on my head as she
bounced and moved in uncontrolled release before collapsing back
to the bed, face first. I stayed beneath her for a bit longer,
using tongue and lips, gently now, to ease and relax her, still
savoring the taste and the power of her most intimate self.

Finally, I slipped her panties back up and eased out from under
her and beneath her gown. Padding into the bathroom, I was
shocked at the amount of red on my face. Turned out, most of it
was mine. One of those pubic bone punches to the face had
bloodied my nose. I cleaned up, then took a warm washcloth and
towel back to the bed where I rolled my love over and gently
cleaned her inner thighs and vulva. After carefully reseating her
pad and panties, and rinsing out the cloth and towel, I returned
to the bed expecting my reward. I got it, too, just not what I
was expecting.

My love had fallen into a deep, relaxed sleep with a smile of
pure contentment on her face. Looking down at my painfully erect
cock, I sighed at the success of my ploy to help her relax.
Obviously, I had succeeded too well. I slipped into bed beside
her, covered us both, and pulled her into my arms. Her eyes never
even twitched. I did not sleep much that night - Monique wiggles
a lot in her sleep - but all things considered, it was still a
great night.

End Part 7


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