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From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: (ASSM) RP: SoulMates Part 13 of 19 (FemDom, Heavy bdsm, F/m)
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SoulMates Part Thirteen: Debits Paid and Accounts Received
by Tigger
Copyright 1997 All Rights Reserved
Chapter 36: Payment - Day 1 First Installment
Over the next couple of hours, I wandered about the various rooms
in the basement dungeon. I was not tired enough to fall asleep.
As restricting and constricting as the my costume was, I would
have to be very tired before sleep would come. Besides, in
addition to curiosity, I had another reason for searching the
place: finding a comfortable place to crash when I reached the
point of exhaustion.
Other than the conspicuous care and expense that had obviously
have been invested in the building of them, the rooms were not
surprises. They were fantasies straight out of every D/S novel I
have ever read. I did wonder who built them for her. Was there
some BDSM entrepreneurial concern out there most of the did not
know about? Something called "Dungeons R Us", or maybe "Better
Homes and Dungeons"? The craftsmanship was superb, obviously the
work of highly skilled professionals, right down to the art work
that made one of the rooms look like it had been cut from sheer
rock.
That cave-like room was right out of the Spanish Inquisition,
complete with a rack, Iron Maiden and Poe's Pit and the Pendulum.
I did not stay in there very long. Another room was clearly
designed with corporal punishment in mind. Dark shadows from
harsh, unshielded incandescent lights highlighted heavy wooden
blocks and other devices intended to tie down the supplicant.
Samples of just about every implement ever invented by one human
to use in striking another hung in neat rows along each wall.
There was a Colonial Punishment Room, outfitted like the
Courthouse Yard at Williamsburg, and something that I think was a
Victorian English School Room. One room was set up to look like a
doctor's office, fully equipped, I was sure for various
specialties, including proctology and gynecology.
Some of the rooms were a bit puzzling because they were so
apparently ordinary. There was a business office, a cozy looking
sitting room and a formal dining room. There was a nursery and a
very frilly dressing room. Another surprise was the room that was
set up as a ballet studio, complete with all around mirrors and a
barre.
I settled, carefully, onto the love seat in the sitting room to
consider my situation. Except for the brightly lighted red
intercom switches in each room and every ten feet or so in the
hall way, no controls of any type could be seen, not even light
switches. Everything of that nature must either be hidden,
probably locked away from curious eyes and fingers, or controlled
from somewhere else in the house. Neither were there any clocks.
Without my watch and with the lights on all the time, and I would
quickly lose my time sense. Clever, Monique.
Only one of the accessible rooms had anything remotely resembling
a bed - the oversized baby crib in the nursery. As comfortable as
the furniture in this sitting room was, it was all far too short
to lie down on comfortably. The hassock was too far away to put
my feet up on while sitting in any of the seats. Besides, all of
the pieces were immovably bolted down to the floor. Even the
cushions were permanently attached to chairs and love seat.
Without tools, I would not be able to make a comfortable bed in
here.
"Nathan." Roselie's voice broke through my reverie. "It is time
for your first treatment. Come with me, please." I rose shakily
to my feet. My legs were already stiffening up from the unusual
and extreme exercise. She led me to the doctor's office.
Inside she made me lay on the examining table and introduced me
to the feminine indignity of the gynecological examination
stirrups. Wrist cuffs completed the strict spread eagle position,
my legs held aloft by the tall stirrups.
Something wet and warm covered the cheeks of my ass and the parts
of my groin not covered by the chastity. In my strapped down
condition, I could not lift my head high enough to see over the
false breasts in my corset to see what Roselie was doing down
there. A scraping sound was accompanied by a pulling, tearing,
scratching feeling on my butt. She was SHAVING me. I went very
still. Also rigid. It seemed to take forever.
>>Smack!<<
"Relax, Nathan. I can't get in between the cheeks with you
clenching like that and I have been ordered to shave you there,
as well." It was not easy, but I managed to unclench enough for
her to get the razor in. Finally, mercifully, it was done.
Did I say mercifully? Aqua Velva or what ever aftershave she put
on me made me want to scream. "Almost done, Nathan, hang on just
a little longer." The straps came off and I stood, carelessly,
trying to reach and soothe my butt. I tripped on those damnable
heels and almost fell, catching myself with Roselie's help at the
last second. "Easy, Nathan, you have to go slowly. You can snap
an ankle in heels this high. We have one last thing to do right
now." She held up a pair of black stretch panties. "You are
going to wear these for now, Nathan." She turned them inside out
to show me two inserts that would sit directly over each buttock.
I reached out to touch them - they were stiff, short hairs - much
like one of those nylon scrubbing pads. Under normal
circumstances, those inserts would make moving or sitting
irritating; after the shave and alcohol treatment, they would
make the slightest movements infernal.
Roselie knelt and held the panty open for me. Balancing on the
examining table, I stepped in first one leghole, then the other.
Roselie worked the extremely tight garment up my legs and
smoothed them over my hips and butt. It was felt like sitting on
a pincushion, like my ass had been set afire. There was no way I
could possibly sit on those inserts.
"You will wear those until I remove them, Nathan. Remember that
she will know if you take them off." Her tone was apologetic.
She reached over to a table and handed me an envelope. "Monique
ordered me to give this to you at this point. I don't know what
is in it. I have to leave now, Nathan. Get some rest, dear. You
will need it."
I followed her out of the room, and watched her ascend the stairs
to upper house. Where to go? I could not sit, not with those
inserts on my shaving abraded butt making standing hellish.
Sitting would be unbearable. I could not remain standing either.
The heels were putting terrible stress on my shins, ankles and
knees. So I had to lay down on my stomach. I had a choice. I
could lay on the floor, or I could lay down in the one bed
available - which is exactly what Monique intended.
I went to the nursery and, after lowering the gate on one side,
crawled into the adult sized baby bed. Getting off my feet was
wonderful and almost balanced the burning of the panty pads.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I opened Monique's letter.
Hello, Natalia.
I am looking forward to watching the filmed record
of your torments. By now, you are dealing with
clothes that hurt you, and with the uncertainty
that comes from not knowing when or where the next
hurt will come from. How long can three days be,
Nathan? Three days of anxiety, discomfort,
loneliness? I think it will be very long, indeed.
I am not sure you will be forgiven, even after
this, Nathan. You hurt me that badly. Think about
that, in your own hurt, in your isolation. Is all
this worth it? Can you take all that I have
planned for you, without the assurance that I will
forgive you in the end? I doubt it. I think you
will choose to walk out that door and take the
easy way out.
If you do quit, then the first thing I will do on
Monday is process a transfer for you. It will be a
promotion, but it will also entail a cross country
move to the west coast.
I love you, Nathan Edwards. But right now, I also
hate you, and I most certainly do not like you
very much.
Suffer well, and for as long as you can, Mr.
Edwards. I don't expect to find you there when I
arrive, but it will be nice to have enough film to
make this worthwhile.
Monique.
Well, that said it all. Too well. Well, I would suffer
well, and
I would be there when she arrived. I hid the note in the fake
cleavage at the bodice of my corset. Whatever else, I would not
let Roselie see this.
Settling my body as comfortably as I could, I tried to rest. I
could not lie on my stomach - the boobs got in the way, and I
could not lie on my back because of the panties. Finally, I
managed to curl into a position with my hips sort of down, with
my torso lying on its side. I would not call it precisely
relaxed, but it solved the worst of my problems so that I could
fall into a light, restless slumber in the harsh florescent
lights of Monique's nursery.
As Monique had intended, I lost all concept of time. Experiences
were quickly reduced to one of two possibilities - time alone in
solitary discomfort and with my own dark thoughts, and time of
extreme (and often painful) sensation at the hands of Roselie.
Roselie came to me often in those unmarked minutes that probably
(although I was never quite sure) clicked into hours. Mostly she
arrived while I was sleeping. I wondered, after the third or
fourth such wake up, if sleep deprivation was part of the
treatment. And each time she came to get me, I learned something
new about discomfort and about humiliation.
When she awoke me in the baby bed, she fed me from a baby bottle.
Only instead of a nipple, this bottle was topped by an realistic,
lifelike dildo about six inches long that was connected to a
straw inside the bottle. I had to suck hard to get the fluid out
of through the hole in the end of the artificial phallus. It was
bitter and had a slightly salty taste. "Mistress Maria's
artificial semen, Nathan. It is the only fluid or food you will
be allowed while you are here. It contains enough protein and
enough fluid to keep you healthy, so you need to drink all of
it." Hunger and thirst won out over a desire to throw a very
babyish tantrum and I worked at sucking down the thick, phlegmy
fluid.
That is when I found out something new about Roselie. She had
nurse training. She led me to the locked bathroom where an enema
awaited me. She flushed me out three times before she let me
empty my bladder. At least I was rid of the panties. The trade
off was that I got my butt scoured with soap and a brush after
voiding the enemas. After letting me out of the room, Roselie
locked the door again and left me alone once more.
I think Roselie came to me no fewer than a dozen times more. The
bathroom routine was the same - enemas and scourings. By the
third time, any embarrassment at having a lovely woman watch me
perform those intimate functions had been burnt out of me. I was
put in bondage and left for extended periods of times. I was
suspended on my feet and ankles, tied to that rack and left in
the standing pillory. I was put in head harnesses, gagged, and
hooded - forced to feel my way around while crawling (since I did
not dare walk in those infernal heels) blindly in those unknown
rooms. I was worked through progressively larger ass plugs, and
I was corporally disciplined.
Roselie proved to be a very skilled flagellatrix. She brought me
to tears with her hand, hairbrush, crop and paddle. Even without
the steady irritation of those infernal panties, between the
plugs and the swats, my ass was kept highly sensitized and sore.
Gradually, inevitably, my reserves depleted, to the point where,
even the pain of a just completed paddling, did not keep me from
falling off into an exhausted sleep as soon as she left me.
Movement when I was awake became increasingly difficult. The
heels put continuous stress on muscles that were not used to
bearing that type of load. Leg cramps and muscle strains became
constant companions. My insteps and the balls of my feet felt
like I was walking on boils from the unnatural angle the shoes
forced my feet into.
Roselie was not much better off than I was. She looked more weary
every time I saw her. Fatigue sapped her ability to school her
features at my condition and I saw her growing dismay at my
increasing physical frailty. I think she started rebelling, too,
because unless my nerves were too overloaded to feel everything,
the last couple of spankings were nothing like what she was
capable of giving me. I only hoped she was not going to come to
odds with Monique over this. She was NOT happy, and more than
once, I caught her muttering angrily to herself about the
stupidity and severity of what was going on. I think the only
thing that kept her following the plan at all was the
encouragement I gave her at the end of each little scene.
Something had to give soon, though. I was approaching the limits
of my endurance. Roselie knew it; I knew it. "DAMMIT, Nathan. I
don't care what you did. NOTHING is worth this. God, I don't know
why you have not pulled the plug and left her. This is insane.
What did you do to piss her off like this?"
"Something that hurt her very badly, Dear." I tried to smile,
but I don't know how well I succeeded. "It is okay, honest. I
won't leave." She threw her arms up and stalked off muttering
again. In any case, leaving was no more an option then than it
had been before. Hell, I was not even sure I could make it to the
exit if I wanted to.
Chapter 37: Monique's Return
Slowly, I awoke again. Something was prodding insistently at my
sore and tender buttocks. This was different from all the however
many times I had been pulled from sleep. Something else was
different this time, too. The face looking down at me was not
surrounded by a halo of curly blond hair. It was not Roselie
this time. Monique was here.
So, it was time to begin the ending. Carefully, I crawled out of
the crib onto legs stiff with pain. The simple act of putting
weight on my ankles and toes was nearly excruciating. I held the
crib rails for balance I could no longer take for granted and
faced Monique.
"Hello, Nathan. I am rather surprised to see you still here."
She was dressed in a gray, two piece workout set. One of those
stretchy halter and thigh shorts things that cling like a second
skin, but do not inhibit movement during aerobics. Her hair was
pulled back into a pony tail. She even wore sweat socks and
running shoes. I looked back at her face in some surprise. She
smiled, a dark foreboding smile I never want to see again. There
was no mischief in that smile, only blunt and obvious intent.
"I see you have noticed my outfit. There is nothing the least bit
sensual about my mood or about my plans nor as you have noticed,
about my clothes. I do not intend to domme you, Nathan. I told
you that. I am going to be working out. Working out hurt, working
out anger, working out disappointment. Now, are you still
intending to go through this? I warn you - it will be terrible.
I intend to break you, Nathan. I can't hurt you the way you hurt
me, but I can bring you pain that might give you the slightest
inkling of what I felt when you betrayed me by not trusting me in
front of my friends. I intend to make you scream and to make you
beg me to let you leave. Which of course, I will do. And then
never see you again."
"I won't leave, Monique. Let's get this over with." I tried to
inject confidence I was not feeling into my voice.
"Very well, turn around." I did. Her hands went to the chastity
I had been wearing. It came undone and hung by the plug lodged in
my ass. She pulled it out suddenly, the suction force of it
nearly unbalancing me. Before I completely recovered, another
strap was circling my waist. Again, I silently cursed the damned
corset because the absurd breast forms kept me from seeing what
was happening.
Firm, yet gentle hands stuffed my penis and scrotum into some
sort of hard cup and then a strap was pulled tightly between my
legs. "Bend over and relax your ass, Nathan. This will hurt in
any case, but I don't wish to damage you permanently." I tried
to comply. It felt like my ass was being split - worse than
anything she had ever done to me there before, even the night she
first penetrated me there. I fell against the mattress and just
laid there while she began adjusting the appliance. What I
thought was one strap between my legs became two, and they were
fed up between the cheeks of my ass to the back of the waist
belt. Once connected, and then tightened, their effect was to
pull my buttocks apart, leaving the crease between my cheeks
open, accessible and vulnerable.
>>SMACK<< An open handed blow struck me and brought me upright
in surprise. "You are prepared, now, Nathan. You aren't ready,
even though you may think so, but physically you are prepared.
That toy I just put on you serves two purposes. First, it makes
some very interesting nerve endings available to me and my
strap." My ears perked up. So she was going to use the strap.
Well, she had made it the bogey-woman of her corporal arsenal all
along. I should have expected it. "Secondly, it protects your
male anatomy from any missed hits. I expect to be very tired when
we finish, Nathan, and my control of the strap may suffer from
fatigue. I want to hurt you, but I don't want to cripple you for
life. Some woman might want to use that part of you in the
future and I would not want to deprive her of its full
potential." Some woman. Direct hit. Don't give me the slightest
bit of hope, Monique.
Grimly, I hung on to the words in her notes. She still loved me.
That had to be enough to get us both past this.
"Enough of this. I will strap you in the formal sitting room. I
am not going to use the pillory or the block, Nathan. _When_" her
emphasis on that word was awful and made me all the more
determined to stay and gut this out. "When you decide to leave, I
do not want to have to be bothered with having to release you.
Your code word stops it, Nathan, but then you will have to leave
via the back door and we will be through. Now, go get ready."
"I won't quit. Besides, why should the word mean anything now?"
A thought hit me. "Monique, please send Roselie home, first. She
won't be able to handle this, and you will need her."
Monique looked startled, then shrugged. "She is upstairs asleep.
She won't even know what happened. Now move, Mr. Evans. I find
myself quite eager to hear you scream."
I rose jerkily to my feet and bowing formally to the Mistress
Monique, turned and left the room. The new chastity's larger plug
shifted uncomfortably as I carefully went into the hallway.
I passed into the special sitting room and headed to the love
seat. I stopped in front of it. No restraints. Whatever came, I
was on my own. Well, I'll make it as good as I could. I selected
the love seat so I could kneel on the it length wise and wedge my
feet and hands under the cushions to keep from breaking position,
while still giving Monique full access to my backside.
I did not wait long at all. A tongue of white hot fire cut across
my buttocks. Monique had arrived. I looked between my legs and
saw her. She had not changed from her grey exercise outfit. I had
half expected to see her in some type of Bitch Mistress attire,
but she had held to her promise. She was not there to dominate.
Another blazing cut, this one just above my thighs. That was
virgin territory; Roselie had not prepared me there. It hurt like
fury. "And what, if anything do you have to say for yourself,
Mr. Evans? Anything in your defense for the crime you committed
against me? Anything that can excuse your complete lack of faith
in me as the woman who loves you and as your domme?"
"Nothing, Mistress." What could I say? I was here because I had
used a code word, and she could not accept that from me. Four
rapid blows seemed to cover every square inch of my now flaming
ass, top to bottom.
"It sounds to me as if my training of you is what is being called
to question here, sir. What have I ever done that would cause you
to doubt me that way?"
The question was rhetorical because another series of lightning
strikes stripped me of control and the power of speech. The world
was starting to spin. I took a deep breath. The scent of
Monique's musk was strong. Everything about me was her. My pain
was her design. Every sense was overwhelmed by her. I still loved
her. "Nothing, Mistress."
I could hear the sneering scorn in Monique's voice. "Then I will
simply have to correct you, won't ?. Present, Mr. Evans." I
lifted myself and waited to be taken to hell's darkest corner. I
was not disappointed.
Time loses meaning during periods of extreme stress. Many of my
memories of combat and combat training are like that,
particularly those memories associated with death and killing.
Slips of memory, jumbled in no real order, are all I have of
parts of what followed. Wishing for the leather bit so I wouldn't
bite myself. Biting into the cushion of the couch as a
substitute. Monique berating me for my childish yelling and
crying.
Monique applying smelling salts to me, once, twice, I don't know
how many times. Monique moving to my head and settling her knees
on my hands so I could not move them, pulling my face into her
crotch so that every reflexive move of my head brought my nose in
contact with her cloth covered pubis, into the moist, heated
crease of her arousal. The blows changed then, hurt differently.
Can't breathe well. I can't remember the stroke count. Monique
screaming for me to ask her, ask her. Ask her what? To forgive
me? I had, hadn't I? Such a hot, red, fiery and lonely place
to be in. So alone. I could hear my heart beating and could feel
its rhythm in the pulsing throb of my no longer numb backside.
"Oh .... my .... God. What am I doing?" Monique's voice was
straining with emotion. "Damn you. I can't do this! Even though
I want you to hurt, I can't hurt you like this or this way."
Something whistled over my head. Fighting back the pain, I lifted
my freed head to see where the strap had landed across the room.
"Damn you, but I still love you and I can't go through with this
anymore."
Suddenly, her hands were pulling me out of my crouch and onto my
feet. I could barely hold myself up, but I called deep within for
reserves I did not know I had, knelt before the Mistress Monique.
Reparations had to be made and made in full.
"Mistress, Have I made adequate and proper restitution for my
failure?" The words came out in gasps, in a raspy whisper I did
not recognize as my own voice.
"Oh, God, Nathan, quit. I've hurt you, terribly." Her voice was
ragged with fear and tears. "I don't believe I did this."
I thanked her, reassuring her, that any session I left under my
own power was not that terrible. She looked as if she thought I
was lost. "Nathan, please stand. Let me take care of you." I
tried to stand on my own and had to have help. My stomach rolled
and I swallowed back the nausea. Once to my feet, I shook off the
helping hands.
When I turned to the door, I saw the other implements laid out on
one of the tables - her crop and a wicked looking whip that I had
never seen before. I shuddered, knowing I could not have stood
much more.
Straightening my shoulders, I turned and, with as much dignity as
I could muster, shuffle-walked out of the room. Monique was out
the door right behind me and stepped ahead to unlock the door
that led to the main house. Still hobbling in the heels, I needed
her help to reach her bedroom. Once inside, I had one priority -
alleviate some of the misery centered on my backside. "Please
unlock the belt, Monique." Was that lifeless voice mine?
Monique moved quickly to her dresser and came back to unlock the
small padlock. She then unbuckled the front of the chastity. The
cup was filled with urine. There was no way to control the reflex
under the strap, particularly when I had fainted. I think I wet
myself the second time I went under. I shuffled to the bathroom
with Monique hunched over the cup, trying to keep it from
spilling. She looked horrified. We emptied the cup into the
toilet. I vomited uncontrollably into the toilet, but there was
precious little in my stomach to come up. Monique helped
support me as my still corsetted stomach heaved and retched, and
then gave me some water to rinse my mouth. Monique gently cleaned
my penis and groin with a soft wash cloth, to get rid of the
odor. Then Monique went behind me to remove the butt plug.
The instant her hand touched my bottom I collapsed on the floor
in agony. Monique pulled the plug free in one motion that brought
me to my knees to flee. I tried to stand and could not. I crawled
toward the bed. Monique was beside me, walking on her knees,
crying. I fell onto my side on the bed, trying to protect my ass
from any more hurt.
She left and returned with a glass filled with an dark liquid.
"It is flat coke, Nathan. Drink it. You need the fluids and it
will help settle your stomach." She held a straw to my lips and
I sucked it down rapidly.
"Well, Monique," I managed to croak, "We really need to talk. I
need.... to ... understand..." The world was spinning. I was so
leaden.
Her hand came down, cool and soothing on my forehead. "It is
okay, darling. I put something in your drink to help you rest."
The world closed down as she petted me and I realized something.
I still did not know what time or day it was.
Chapter 38: Reprise and Review
I awoke alone to find a note pinned to the pillow next to mine.
Nathan
I must have made your drug a little stronger than
I intended. Probably just as well since rest is
what you need more than anything right now. Have
the breakfast I left you on the nightstand and
then drink the stuff in the juice glass. It is a
milder dose of what I gave you last night. You
should be awake around when I get home.
Monique.
As promised, a thermos of coffee (decaff if I know
Monique at
all) and some pastry sat on a tray. Beside the tray was my watch.
I snatched it up and looked at the display. 10:30 AM. Monday. I
felt like Scrooge after the spirits left, not knowing what day it
was.
Then I made my first mistake. I moved my lower body.
Deep muscle bruises pulled against newly forming adhesions,
strained muscles rippled and I fell back down, panting. Then I
noticed. I was not dressed - the outfit I had worn since Thursday
night was gone. Carefully this time I rose up a little and looked
around the room.
The shoes and the corset were in a little pile beside the bed.
Beside them, bits of cord lay in a little knot. She must have cut
me out of the damn thing. I wondered if the damn thing was
repairable, but hunger beat out curiosity, and I wolfed the
breakfast. Monique would have to live with crumbs in her bed.
I refused to crawl to the bathroom, which made that 20 foot round
trip exhausting. It also aggravated my injured backside to the
point that by the time I got back to bed, any foolish, macho
impulse to not drink Monique's potion died a fiery death. I fell
asleep within a few minutes of drinking the drug.
I next awoke to find Monique sitting in a chair next to the bed,
looking very anxious. She had a hankie in her hand and the poor
thing was just about shredded. Tears had made tracks of black
mascara down her face from red rimmed eyes.
She noticed my small movements and moved quickly to kneel beside
the bed. She brushed my hair out of my eyes and looked at me
carefully. "How are you?" she whispered.
I mentally took stock before answering. "Okay, so long as I don't
move." Twinges told me that any movement would force a repeat of
that morning's experiences. Unfortunately, Nature's call was
rapidly growing insistent. "Which I have to do, Monique. I have
to go to the bathroom." She moved to help me up and supported me
as best she could to the bathroom. One bright spot was that the
liquid diet I had been consuming for the past four days meant I
could stand up to handle that piece of business. The thought of
sitting on a hard, unyielding toilet seat was daunting to say the
least.
For all Monique's help, I was still hurting when I got back to
the bed. She insisted on examining me in intimate detail, before
letting me cover myself again. "You are one huge bruise from the
top of your buttocks to the backs of your knees. Some bleeding,
mostly from the anus where that last butt plug split you a bit. I
will keep an eye on it, and rush you to the hospital if is shows
any signs of infection." She stopped in mid spate. "That is, I
assume you don't want to go to the hospital?"
I shook my head. "I could never explain this, and neither could
you. Speaking of explanations, how is Roselie?"
She sat back down and took a deep breath. "Curious. Greatly
concerned. Not at all happy with her part in this or with me. She
told me that my little plan of sleep deprivation was pure and
simply torture. By Saturday night, she'd had more than enough of
it so she stopped it. The plans I left behind called for her to
wake you up every time you fell asleep. She was to watch the
monitors, and then rouse you within 30 to 60 minutes of you
falling asleep for the trainings. She stopped doing that in time
for you to get about 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep immediately
before I arrived." I nodded my understanding. It was no wonder I
was so exhausted. The sessions probably lasted in excess of one
to two hours a piece, easily longer than I was sleeping each
time. To make matters worse, I would just be falling into deep
sleep when she would awaken me for the next act in Monique's
little play, thus depriving me of the most restful sleep time.
"Anyway, she wanted to come see you tonight, but I told her to
wait until tomorrow when you had a chance to catch up on your
sleep. She needed the rest, too. She might not have been
undergoing the disciplines you were, but overseeing them put her
on edge, too, and she was awake all the time you were, as well."
"I will try to put on a good face for her tomorrow, Monique. I
don't want you and her to be at odds over this."
Monique broke down at that. I tried to move to her, but was
stopped by wrenching hurt in my hips and backside. I watched
helplessly as she cried in great racking sobs. "Why? Why on
earth are you concerned about that? I should think it would not
concern you in the least that I lose her over this. I don't
understand this. Hell. I don't understand you."
"I love you, and somehow, I hurt you. I won't hurt you more. I
don't understand what I did, precisely, but I know that you were
deeply hurt by it."
She stopped crying and sat very straight. I watched her collect
herself, as if facing a fate she could not avoid, but which she
knew would destroy her. "Nathan. I had a call today. It was from
Clarrisse, one of the women that was there that night in San
Francisco."
"I recognize the name. I found out she was Mistress to the little
blond waitress who served us,... errr... you. She also told me
that the place we were at was a D/S specialty place, and that the
whole thing was leading up to a party on one of the other women's
place. Only I messed it up."
"Nate? I have to ask a question. Clarrisse said that you told
Dianna, her submissive, that you used your safeword. Dianna said
that you said that I ignored its use."
I was somewhat nonplused by this. "Well, yes, I did use it. I
figured that you decided that I had used it inappropriately."
"Oh, god, no." Her voice was a harsh whisper, trembling with
emotion. "When? God, Nathan, when did you use it?"
Thoroughly confused now, I shrugged and instantly regretted the
movement. "Right before you slapped me. After that, exhaustion,
anger, humiliation took over and I lost it completely. That is
why I did not follow you immediately."
"Oh God. You are blaming yourself. Lord, that is what you meant
yesterday when you said the code word would not matter, anyway.
You did not mean that you were concerned that I would banish you.
You simply did not believe that using it would stop me. Oh, God.
That would be so funny if it was not so tragic." She laughed
hysterically and then broke down into a wailing bawl. "Oh god. I
have got to get out of here.. have to think." She stood and ran
from the room, leaving me alone again.
She did not return for hours. My weakness overwhelmed me once
more in the early hours of the morning and I fell back to sleep.
Cool air and cooler hands on my fevered backside brought me
suddenly awake. "Easy, Mr. Evans, let me get a good look at you."
a gentle voice said behind me. I recognized that voice - Doctor
Danvers, Monique's domme physician friend. Gentle hands carefully
examined me, but it still caused me pain when she pressed down,
or pulled my cheeks apart to inspect for damage. Finally, she
finished and took a seat in the bedside chair.
"Well, it has been a long time since I have seen a hiding to
match this one, Nathan. You are going to be in that bed for a
good three or four days more. She was careful not to cut you,
though, so there is no danger of infection from that. I will give
you an antibiotic for that hemorrhaging around the anus, but that
should not be a problem."
"Hello, Jennifer. How did you get here?"
"Monique called me in, Nathan."
That frightened me. Had she left me and called in Jennifer to see
to me? "Is she here?"
Jennifer nodded as she prepared a needle. "Yes. Downstairs. She
is convinced you will not want to see her since she broke your
trust by ignoring your safe word, and then compounded that by
punishing you, quite brutally in my opinion, without a hearing."
She stood up and inserted the needle directly into the meaty part
of my buttocks.
"OUCH! Dammit, you could have warned me, Jennifer. But, wasn't
it my fault? Didn't I overreact? Use the word where it was
inappropriate?"
Jennifer sat back down in the chair. She became pensive,
apparently choosing her words carefully, and then looked at me
intently. "You tell me, Nathan. Was the scene more than you could
handle? Were your limits being exceeded without negotiation?
Were you given a chance to express that to your Mistress in a
manner that would permit the scene to continue, but at a level of
intensity more in keeping with your ability to tolerate at the
time?" She gave me a sharp look and my face gave me away. "I
thought so. You love her so much, too much probably, that you
probably took too much before code wording. It is a common
failing among submissives, particularly those who submit
principally to please the one with dominant leanings." She
sighed and took a sip from a glass of water that she had
evidently brought with her. "Nathan, a code word is never out of
line if it means what it is supposed to mean in a scene - in
other words, that this is going too far. It does not have to mean
too much pain or too much discomfort, it simply means *too much*,
and that whatever that is too much has to stop - now! For
whatever reason, Monique did not stop."
"Is that why she isn't here?"
"She did not think you would trust her knowing how she had broken
faith with you."
I saw red! "Get her up here." I growled.
"Now wait, Nathan, just a minute.."
Ignoring her and the pain, I dragged myself out of the bed and
headed for the door, bellowing, "Monique! Monique! Get up here
- NOW!" She was through the door in an instant. It was none too
soon, either because the adrenaline ran out and I started to
fall. She and Jennifer caught me and helped me back to the bed.
"Try that again, Mr. Evans, and you won't wake up for the next
two days." Jennifer told me severely.
I simply locked eyes with Monique, who now stood like a statue,
waiting for something. She got something, but not what she
expected. "Damn you, Monique. Damn you for a coward. I went
through hell for you, because I love you. You will damn well not
run and hide behind others when you would not let me do so."
"But I ignored your safeword, Nathan. I never heard it, or if I
heard it, it never registered, but I still ignored it. In truth,
I never expected you to have to use it in that scene, but you did
use it and your ultimate protection against abuse was ignored.
That is unforgivable."
"No it isn't. I forgive you. I will simply have to be more
forceful next time I use it. Damn it, Monique, haven't you
figured out yet that the worst thing you can do to me is leave
me??"
"You can't mean that."
"How can I not mean it? After what I went through for you? To
be with you? Now, the question is, do you still love me?"
"Of course I do. That is why what I thought you did hurt me so
badly. And it is why I could not finish what I started on
Sunday."
That brought Jennifer up with a start. "Not finish? My God,
Monique, what more could you have done to the man? For the love
of God, look at him!"
Monique looked at the floor in shame. "I was going to cane and
whip him, Jennifer. Only I couldn't do it."
Jennifer was furious. "Damn right you couldn't. I would ask what
you were thinking of, but it is obvious you were not thinking.
Was your intent to cripple him?"
"That's enough, Doctor." I said with the quiet command voice of
twenty years of Navy life.
"No it is not, Mr. Evans. She has grossly abused someone who came
to her in love. When Sondra hears of this.."
"Screw Sondra."
That caused a burble of amazed laughter to break the Doctor's
tirade. "I would be careful what you say, Nate. If you decide to
stay with this woman, you will probably end up submitting to
Sondra so that she can test the extent of your training and
evaluate her student's work."
"Not bloody likely, Jennifer. I submit to Monique - no one else."
"And if she orders it, or asks it of you?"
"I say no. And Monique will accept that."
Jennifer smiled. "Yes, at this point, I expect she will. Well,
where does this leave us? Am I a fifth wheel?"
"Yes." Two voices answered. Monique spoke. "Jen, your room is
ready for you. Get some rest, please. Nathan and I obviously need
to talk."
"I guess you do. All right, then, I will see you both in the
morning." She left two pills on the nightstand. "Take those
before bed. They will help you rest." And then she left.
"Well, now what?" Monique asked, looking very uncertain.
"I could use a hug." I said, trying to take a light tone. I
scooted over to make room on the bed. Monique pulled off her
shoes and carefully slid in beside me. We wrapped our arms around
each other and drew as close as we could. Warmth and caring
flowed between us for the first time in weeks and healing began.
"Where do we go from here, Nate?"
"Where we want to together. I still want to be with you. Do you
still want to be with me?"
"Yes, Nate, I do. It won't be easy, though. I still want to domme
you, but I don't trust myself right now. I don't see how you can,
either."
"Whatever is important, we will work out, Monique. We have to
because the alternatives are simply unacceptable." I pulled her
closer and we became silent again. After another while, Monique
rolled over to get out of bed. She returned with water and the
two pills Jennifer had left.
"You need to sleep, Nate. Take these and I will see you in the
morning." I took the pills and handed her back the water glass.
"Good night, Nathan my love. Thank you. I don't deserve you, but
I am not stupid either. You won't ever be free of me." She bent
down and kissed me. "I will stay until you fall asleep, love."
She settled into her chair, but reached over to keep a light
touch on my hand. I slept easily for the first time in over two
weeks.
I spent the remainder of the week at Monique's house. Jennifer
checked on me before leaving the next morning and left a few more
of the pills. She gave them to Monique, telling me that she could
rely on her to see that I took them when I needed them. "You
would do something stupid like try to 'live' with the pain.
Damned stupid if you ask me. Give me an honest masochist rather
than a stoic quietly suffering in pain any day."
Roselie visited Wednesday evening for dinner. The muscle relaxers
combined with three days of rest to give me some semblance of
mobility. Enough, in any case, that Roselie was willing to be
convinced that all was well. In actuality, dinner and an evening
of sitting convivially in the den wore me down, and I was sore
all over again the next morning. Fortunately, that was the last
visitor I had to deal with, and the remainder of the week saw
steady progress back to the realm of the functioning human. The
best part was sleeping in Monique's arms every night.
Saturday, I returned home to pick up my mail at the post office
and to take care of the bills. Monique came "to make sure you eat
properly" and ended up spending the night. Sunday night, she
reluctantly left to return to her place after trying
unsuccessfully to talk me into coming back to her place. If I was
ever going to get back to work, I needed the chance to try
without her watching and wringing her hands over my least signs
of discomfort. The way she was watching me, I figured she would
try to keep me home if I grimaced while stretching in the
morning. She left, pouting. I almost laughed. Coquettish pouting
is not a talent my forceful and commanding lover has cultivated
in her life.
End Part 13
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