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SoulMates Part Fifteen:  Turnabout and Deeper Learning
by Tigger
Copyright 1997, all rights reserved

Chapter 43:    Introspection

I spent the weekend trying to find things that would keep my mind
off what was happening in a hotel suite in Crystal City. Catching
up on the yard work at my place did not help much. I went back to
my place with the idea of puttering around the house and yard,
doing chores that had gone undone of late. Unfortunately, there
is not much gardening you can do in Northern Virginia in late
October. During this time of the year, grass does not grow very
fast, if at all. Leaves don't fall much before Thanksgiving
around here, and pre-winter fertilizing does not take very long
when you have a townhouse. Other house maintenance did not take
long either, since I tend to fix things as they break.

All of which left me, at noon on Saturday, with very little to
occupy my time or my mind, other than what I was trying to
forget. The fifth time I caught myself reaching for the phone to
call Sondra's room, I knew I had to do something that got me away
from the phone. Neither of them would appreciate the
interruption. I had to get out of the house. I grabbed my jacket,
car keys and headed for the car.

After about an hour of aimless wandering, I found myself at the
National Park at Great Falls, on the Maryland side of the Potomac
River. Located along the canal built around the Potomac River
Rapids in the late 1700's by a group including George Washington,
the park includes miles of trails along the Potomac itself and
the canal basin. If you want to, you can go all the way down to
Georgetown from the parking area outside the beltway. The park
was fairly deserted this cool, grey fall day and that suited my
mood perfectly. After parking in the small lot near the visitor
center, I headed for the canal mule trail. I mentally flipped a
coin and headed down river along the path.

Normally, I took these walks listening to music or to audio
books, but not today. Today, I needed to think. As so many times
before in the past months, I needed to review and assess where I
stood with Monique, particularly in the light of new data.

One of the things I had been clinging to, whether consciously or
not, was the thought (perhaps the hope), that once I "passed"
Monique's testing of my resolve and commitment, things would get
"better". Now I realized that in my mind, "things getting better"
had meant that she would back off, at least with regards to much
of the more stringent testing and training. Rightly or wrongly, I
had been approaching this whole experience as I had dealt with
Plebe Summer, or with the three weeks of Marine Corps Basic
Training we went through during Second Class Summer Cruise at the
Naval Academy. In other words, something to endure, to get
through and then to get behind me, NOT something that I should
expect and be prepared to face regularly over the course of our
entire life together.

Certainly, I had taken the tack with Monique that I would pay the
price, if that was the price, to be with her. The question was
"Had I really believed that was the price?". Should I expect to
face her strap and whip on my sixtieth or seventieth birthday? 
More to the point, was I really willing to do that?

The new data that provoked this latest reevaluation was Monique's
attitude this morning when she had left me to face her session
with her Mistress. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that
Monique lusted after what Sondra planned for her. More than that,
Monique NEEDED what Sondra had planned for her. The converse of
that realization was that the scening she had been doing with me
was just as important to her. Monique was going to be hurting
after Sondra got through with her, hurting enough that Sondra
made provision for her to recover for more than twenty four hours
afterwards. Admittedly, the worst of my experiences were ones
that experienced dominants had told me (and Monique) had gone too
far, but that was not the point. The point was that I did not
know if I wanted her enough to face, or even if I could face
regularly scheduled twenty four hour recoveries for the rest of
my life.

Round and round my head spun as I trudged further and further
down the trail, like some kind of mental tail chase. It was like
being caught in the mental equivalent of an infinite computer
do-loop, and was just about as productive. A glance at my watch
brought me up short. I had been walking for over two hours. I
would not get back to the parking lot until after dark at this
rate and the park supposedly closed at dusk. "Way to go, Evans."
I told myself disgustedly, as I turned back and started trotting
back, trying to make up the time before the park closed.

The return trip took a little longer than it might have, just
under an hour. I would have made it back more quickly but I could
not maintain a steady jog pace over the sometimes rocky path.
Spending the night out there in the cold, nursing a sprained or
broken ankle would have been the final indignity. In the end, I
was just in time, in more ways than one. 

About a quarter mile from where my car was parked, I had to slow
back to a walk, my way blocked by a large family group, also
making their way back to the parking lot. There was about twenty
of them, ranging in age from toddlers to a pair of elderly folks.
The grandma and granddad, I thought. I watched as the family kept
their pace to one that the pair could match, keeping the two of
them nestled safely in the middle of the 'herd'. Twice along the
remainder of the walk, one of the youngsters would run up to
share some discovery or treasure with the grandfolks. Obviously,
they were loved, those two. Just as obviously, they were devoted
to each other. They touched each other, smiled at each other over
the kids' heads when presented with the treasures, and
steadfastly held onto one another's hand the entire time I was
following them.

They were parked in the larger lot on the other side of the park
entrance, so they continued on after I reached my Blazer. I
started the engine and drove to the park exit. I called to the
Park Ranger at the gate to let her know that I was not the last
to leave, and she smiled at me. "I know. They are regulars. I
wouldn't dream of dropping the gate till they left, but thanks
for telling me."

My curiosity peaked, I tried to continue the conversation with
the bubbly young woman. "Regulars, are they?  They are here
often?"

The girl's face lit up into a bigger smile. "Yes, at least once
or twice a month. The old folks love it here and the kids love
it, too. They have several family outings here each year, and
usually go on the scheduled nature walks. Watching them makes me
believe in love and forever. I want what they have."

Love and forever. I smiled at her exuberance and at the wish I
shared with her. "I think you are right, Ranger. Take care."  I
drove off as two vans pulled up to the gate. In my mirror, I
watched the Ranger waving enthusiastically to the occupants. She
was definitely right. And I wanted what they had, too. 

And there was only one person I could see, walking up the mule
path with me in twenty five years, and that was Monique. Whether
I made that walk with a spanked butt or not, it was still Monique
who completed the picture, whose hand was steadfastly holding
mine. Briefly, I wondered if the old woman ever spanked her mate.
Shaking my head and surprised that I could smile at the thought,
I drove off feeling more certain than I had when I had arrived.
Arriving home, I packed a hanging bag with a suit for Monday,
tossed some fresh toiletries in my shaving kit and headed back to
Great Falls. Back to Monique's house. Back to our home.

Chapter 44:    Scene Aftermaths

I slept in Monique's bed. It felt damned strange to be there
without her, but comforting, too. I got up at about 8 am, made
coffee and read the Sunday Post. After cleaning up the bedroom,
the bathroom and the kitchen, I took the opportunity to explore
the house more fully. I was still awed by the size of the place.
The third floor was not even in use, although it was tastefully
decorated like the rest of the place. Two of the bedrooms on the
second floor (there were five) were decorated with children in
mind. Monique's doing?  I wondered, and shivered at the thought
of Monique nurturing our child.

I found the control center for the dungeon rooms, next to the
door that led down to the basement play area. It was like the
main security office at our headquarters. The main wall was
dominated by six video monitors. When I turned on the power at
the main console, they started scanning across the dozen or so
rooms and bathrooms down in the basement. One of the cameras
scanned the sitting room where I had been strapped. Something
caught my eye, but the monitor moved to another room before I
could figure out what it was. 

I scanned the control console and figured out how to take manual
control of the monitors and then paged through the cameras until
I was viewing the elegant sitting room again. I sat there,
looking. Something was wrong, but for the life of me, it escaped
me. Finally, I gave up, powered the system back down and headed
to the basement. 

The room was the same as I remembered it from Roselie's tour of
it. Soft lighting, comfortable furniture and hidden traps. I knew
that Monique had never intended it for the use she had made of it
with me. Before me, everyone who entered there did so freely, and
of their own will. God, why did the opening line from Bram Stoker
come to me, now?  I moved around, trying to figure out what was
wrong when it finally hit me. It was the fireplace.

It was a gas fire, but there was ash in the hearth. I moved to
the hearth and stirred the pile of rubble under the gas jets.
This was a fire hazard. Those jets had to be kept clear to burn
safely. I had just begun to clear out the ashes, when a still
solid object came clear of the ash. I picked up the charred piece
of wood. I saw it, touched it, but I was not sure I believed what
I held. It was the mahogany handle from the leather strap that
Monique had shown me before my ordeal in this room. She must have
burned it in the gas fire at some point after I was out of the
room.  Probably while Jennifer was examining me.  Not only that,
but judging by the amount of ash, I guessed she had burned more
than just the strap. Perhaps the whip and the cane she had told
Jennifer she had originally intended to use on me made up the
rest of the remains I saw here. I cleaned up the mess and then
went back up stairs. I had more to think about.

Monique's car pulled up at a little after four in the afternoon.
She made her way slowly into the house, every step careful and
deliberate. I recognized the signs of muscle distress in the
large muscle groups in the backside in her movements from my own
experiences. I met her at the door and hugged her. She returned
my embrace, but weakly. One look at her and I knew she was
exhausted. I considered carrying her, but thought better of it.
She might be doing some female  macha" thing, proving herself to
me. I did not want to get into an argument with her just then, so
I got about as subtle as I am capable of being. I put an arm
around her waist and pulled her close to me as we walked into the
house, hip to hip. That let me bear much of her weight while
letting her walk. 

I took her straight to the bedroom and set about getting her
settled for bed. She was dressed in the skirt she wore to work
Friday and a too tight blouse I did not recognize. Probably
Sondra's I thought. She wore no underwear, and that was not
surprising. Bruises covered her buttocks and the backs of her
thighs. Her nipples were swollen and erect, and colored an
unusually dark shade of pink. I could only assume she had gotten
a full measure of clamps and other pinching things on them. I was
sure that panties or a bra would have been very uncomfortable for
her. I got her one of the muscle relaxers that Jennifer had given
her for me, and rubbed a heating salve into the worst of the
bruising. By the time, I was finished, she was sound asleep,
without having said more than "hi" to me.

I sat on the bed for a long time, simply staring at her bruised
bottom as she slept on her tummy. Whatever it was that she had
been looking forward to finding in that scene, she still had to
come home like that. She still had to face days of sitting
carefully, of steeling herself at work to give no sign of her
discomfort. I still did not understand.

I loved her. I needed her. I would take whatever was necessary, I
would do what ever was necessary to have her in my life, to be
able to call her my wife. But I did not understand, and I
wondered, if I ever would. I wondered if I ever could.

Chapter 45:    Back to Work and A Surprising Scene

The alarm roused us both for work. Monique moved with quiet
assurance through her morning rituals, as if showing any hint of
the discomfort she had to be feeling was beneath her. After a
quick breakfast, we were on our way to the office.

At work, she was efficient, but unusually quiet in her dealings
with Roselie, with me or with any of people who came to meet with
her. We got huge amounts of work done, but without any of the
byplay and kibitzing that usually enlivened and enhanced the
office. Toward the end of the day, I stood staring at the door
that closed her back into her office after one of the stark,
humorless and pointed exchanges that had been the modis operandi
for this day.

Roselie saw my confused concern. "It is normal, Nate. She is
always introspective and subdued like this after she submits to
Sondra. She will be fine."  I looked at her, disbelieving. "She
probably had a great time. I was worried this weekend would be
really rough for her, but this is about how she always is after
Sondra tests her. Monique considers it her duty to continue to
prove she is worthy to domme... she takes what she expects of
others. Frankly, I don't know who she has to prove it too.
Herself, I guess."

I shook my head. "But you should have seen her, Roselie. Her
bottom..."

"Is probably in technicolor and is probably giving her a constant
reminder of what Sondra did to her this weekend. Haven't you
noticed how deliberately she moves?  Or that she is wearing flats
instead of her power heels in the office?  Less stress on those
bruised glutes that way, Nathan. But, she is all right. I was
afraid that Sondra was going to take her to hell for what she..." 
Roselie hesitated, then pushed on. "For what we did to you.
Evidently, Sondra is too much the Prima Domme to do that in a
scene. Or perhaps, both of them took you at your word. In any
case, she is no worse off than she was the last time Sondra was
here."  She giggled. "Truth to tell, I think she likes it...
Subbing that is, at least every once in a while. Now, get to
work. She will need that report. She always gets two or three
days work done in a day when she is like this."

And we did get a phenomenal amount of work done that day, even
though we took a long lunch hour to see Sondra off at Washington
National Airport. Monique cried softly as she hugged Sondra
outside the metal detectors in the terminal. Sondra was misty
eyed as well. I marveled at the bond between these two women.

I was a bit surprised when Sondra hugged me fiercely. "You are
very good for her, young man. She needs someone who cares so much
for her. She does not yet know how badly she needs that, but she
is coming to understand. Be strong, Nathan. I want to dance at
your wedding."  I was speechless. After the confrontation in the
office, and my adamant refusal to submit to her, this unqualified
support came as a complete surprise. I hugged her back and
mumbled something incoherently affirmative.

Monique was even more subdued the remainder of the day. I tried
to keep a close, inconspicuous watch on her. If she needed me, I
wanted to be there.

It was after seven when Monique and I made our way back to her
car for the ride home. Monique drove and headed us toward her
Great Falls home. She sighed audibly as we pulled onto Interstate
66. "Nathan. You can stop watching me like a hawk. I am all
right."
I had not been as covert as I had thought. "Sorry."  It was all I
could think of to say.

"Look, Nate. I know you have a hard time imagining it, and I
accept blame for much of that problem, but I really did want to
go to Sondra.  She is a marvelous domme and it was a very
rewarding experience for me."  She was showing more emotion than
I had seen from her since she left on Saturday for her
appointment with Sondra.

I leaned back into the cushioned seats and closed my eyes. "Yes,
I know. To tell you the truth, that is what is bothering me so
much - the fact that you did want to go, and the fact that you
did enjoy your session."

Her eyebrows rose into the loose curl of hair that had escaped
her twist. "THAT is bothering you?  That I wanted and enjoyed
what Sondra and I did?"

"I didn't mean it that way," I hastened to assure her. "I don't
begrudge you any pleasure, Monique. I hope you know that. No,
what bothered me is that you could and did want it; that you
could and did enjoy it. Especially when I am not sure I ever will
be able to do either."  I told her about the long walk at Great
Falls on Saturday, and about the older couple who were still so
in love. "I can't imagine anyone but you there, Monique. But, for
all my intentions and determination to give you what you need, if
you what you need is my whole hearted acceptance  of these games
of yours - if you define that as my looking forward to them and
taking pleasure in them ... Well, that may well be the one gift I
can never give you."

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "We are still
talking about your submission, no, your bottoming, being the
price to be paid, aren't we, Nathan. Something that must be done,
not for the joy of it, in and of itself, but for other reasons,
other goals."  She grimaced. "For payment."  She made the word
sour and ugly.

Weary beyond words now, I nodded, then remembered she could not
see me in the dark as she drove us home. "Yes, Monique. The
painful, blunt truth is that if you said you never wanted to play
a dominance and submission game ever again, I would probably
cheer at this point in my life. But I know that you won't do
that, and I also know that I don't stand much chance of being in
your life if I leave that part of you unsatisfied."

We drove on in silence for several miles, the air dark and heavy
between us. "Nate?"  She broke the silence. "I have been very
clumsy with you. You should know that. Sondra was right about
that. It is just that I want so much from you, so much for you.
In the end, I pushed too hard and listened too little. Every time
you started to open to me, I took you too far, too fast. I
pressed beyond limits I knew or should have known were there.
Whether we stated them explicitly as limits or not is irrelevant
- we did not negotiate my right to do them to you, yet I did them
anyway. I could have done this differently, should have done this
differently."  She did not stop at the turnoff to her house,
instead kept on driving down the dark, winding road.

"I am not quitting, Monique. I love you. That is not going to
change."

"And I love you, too, Nathan Evans. Enough to make a deal with
you."

"What kind of deal, Monique?"

"Simply this. We are at the end of October. Give me two more
months, Nathan. Two more months to show you what D&S can bring to
a relationship. Two months to be the domme I was taught to be
with the man I love. If at the end of those two months, you still
feel this way, if I have not found that gift I talked about that
begins to match yours to me, then I will stop trying to play with
you this way."

"What happens then, Monique?  If I can't find value in this gift,
do we part ways?  That is not much of a deal."

She laughed quietly. "Silly man. You are not EVER getting away
from me. I told you that I would stop with you. You are the only
man I will ever love. However, I do love Roselie and Sondra, and
they will provide the outlet for my darker fantasies and needs."

"You think that is enough, Monique?  You won't resent me for not
providing you that spark?  I will tell you, that right now, I
can't imagine any other result from that bargain."  She turned
into a small market parking lot to turn around and head back
towards her home.

"Then, so be it. And on my own head, as well, Nathan. I love you,
too, and I can't imagine anyone else at my side at Great Falls,
either. Do we have a deal?"

I thought about it. My own plan, formulated that weekend, was
much more open ended. At least now, she seemed to be making a
commitment to my enjoyment, as much or more than her own. "All
right, Monique. You have your two months."  What else could I
say?

Chapter 46:    The New Deal

I more or less moved in full time at Monique's home. I had my own
room, but did not use it much more than I used my own house. For
all intents and purposes, we lived as man and wife. We arrived
home from work together, went to work together and did the myriad
things that newlywed couples do. We took walks together, quite
forgetting the existence of any other human being. We cooked
meals together, cleaned up together, slept together. We even
started making plans for a wedding and for our life together.

We also worked harder on Monique's deal. True to her word, the
games were different now. Even her approach to the games was
different. For one thing, she started calling me a 'bottom'.
Actually, it was rather humorous, afterwards, because the first
time she had used that term with me, I had gotten rather upset.
Was she calling me an ass? 
 
She'd asked what had happened to upset what she thought was a
smoothly flowing and exciting session. When I told her what had
set me off, she carefully explained that "bottom" was different
from a "submissive". A bottom took the submissive role in play,
but that is all it really was - a role for play, and not the real
orientation of that person. "I am going to work at calling you
that, Nate, so that I always remind myself who I am dealing
with."

It became our habit to play, in at least some small way, every
night. Over the next few weeks, Monique slowly built up her
catalog of what games turned me on, what games turned me
completely off, and which ones were in between. For example,
Monique in any kind of sexy attire, be it leather, latex, satin,
silk, whatever, turns me on. Wearing leather for me is neutral,
wearing rubber for me is a turnoff. Dressing up as Natalia, in
general, remains neutral, however, making love to Monique while
we both wore silky lingerie was surprisingly exciting. Slow
building, sexy hand spankings, turned out to be arousing for me,
particularly when I am draped over Monique's stocking covered
lap. But if she goes too far, or too fast, I quickly grow limp
and probably angry. Bondage is okay, up to a point. Combined with
teasing and titillation and I am hard as a rock. Too long a
session or too stringent a position and I become bored,
disinterested or both. Orally loving Monique is always a turn on.
Since I know that Monique is always clean and fresh when we play,
it does not much matter to me where I stick my tongue as long as
Monique likes it. If she is aroused, I am not far behind her.
Nipple tormenters like clamps are okay, but mostly neutral. 

"Cock and Ball Torture", or CBT as Monique refers to those games,
are an iffy thing for me. Frankly, it is nothing like it sounds,
and in most cases, very arousing, but I cannot seem to bring
myself to completely trust those toys of hers with their weights
and locks and teeth. In the end, her CBT toys stay in the toybag,
but they are not be a regular adjunct to our games. I have
promised to consider playing those games, but she has to ask
first, prior to the session, and she has promised to abide by my
wishes in each of those instances.

Some things just did not work at all, and in some cases, for
either of us. She tried some "play piercings" using surgical
lancelets in my nipples and my ears. I just went rigid, and I
don't mean my cock. I bleed pretty freely when cut, and a little
blood goes a long way. I looked a mess by the time those things
had been consigned permanently to the trash.
Other than those specific instances, life together was actually
moving along quite well. Everyday, I became more confident that I
could do it, that we could be what the other needed. One
Saturday, two or three weeks after Monique had gone to Sondra, I
even consented to a fairly strict corporal session. I also
consented to having Roselie participate, assisting Monique as a
domina. 

It was an all day affair, with both women lording it over me, and
having a fine time of it. Roselie "met" Natalia again, and
pronounced herself impressed. "How come you did not bring Natalia
to the office Halloween party, Monique?"  She asked as I served
her a glass of wine.

Monique smiled her wicked, happy smile. "Maybe next year,
darling. She is not fully trained yet."  And I just KNEW she
would try it, too. I wondered what inducement she would try to
achieve that goal. It would have to be HUGE.

I spent the day, pampering both women, waiting on them hand and
foot. Every little "indiscretion" or 'failure to give proper
service' was met with some sexy, sometimes silly little
punishment. The women were treated to a veritable smorgasbord of
sexual delights, orgasming often throughout the day. My fingers
and tongue were kept very busy by my two insatiable Ladies of the
House. A couple of times, they got it on together while I
watched, bound in a chair or to a hassock. At no time during the
day was I allowed to orgasm. In fact, my old friend, the chastity
made a reappearance early in the afternoon. The damn thing still
fit, too.

The culmination of the day took place in the cellar dungeon, in
the room with the colonial stocks and pillory. My feet were
trapped in ankle stocks so that I was standing with me feet
spread about two feet apart on the floor. My hands and head were
locked in another set of stocks that made me bend at the waist to
lay my head into the opening. Basically, my back was parallel to
the floor and my legs made a perfect right angle to my back. My
ass was presented perfectly.

I was to be strapped - two dozen strokes. Monique "warmed me up"
with one of the gently escalating spankings that we had learned
arouse me, before she proceeded with the main event. In spite of
my trepidation, I was rampently erect by the time she stopped the
spanking and picked up her (new) spanking strap. Fool that I am,
I had bought the damned thing as a present for her, KNOWING she
would use it on me.  It would be really dumb except for the smile
of sheer joyous pleasure it brought to her face.

The first blow struck with a loud >thud<, but with none of the
pain that had followed the strokes those long weeks ago. A second
blow followed, causing tingles this time, but still, no real
pain. "Roselie!"  Monique was in her "Mistress voice" now. "Get
over here. His balls are hanging precariously near where I want
to work."  Roselie, wearing nothing but heels and a smile,
strutted to where I was restrained. Grinning mischievously, she
planted a sexy kiss on my mouth and then slipped out of sight,
moving underneath me and behind the shoulder stocks. Surprisingly
cool fingers gently caressed, then circled my scrotum above my
balls and pulled them forward, out of the "line of fire". Her
silky hair tickled my stomach and my thighs. Her breath whispered
across the hard length of my erection. Just KNOWING she was that
close made me even harder.

The third blow came, this one harder, and bit sharply into my
ass. In spite of my determination to take it without flinching, I
arched my back, instinctively trying to escape the bite of the
next blow. I regained control and moved back, trying to present
for Monique, and for Monique's pleasure. The fourth blow was even
sharper, this one hurting and I again flinched. This time, my
arching forward thrust away from Monique's strap was met by a
hot, wet, sucking embrace on my cock. It was so unexpected, so
sexy that my eyes nearly crossed at the intensity of the
sensation.

The combination of my highly aroused state and Roselie's
incredible art had me thrusting into her mouth, trying to
increase the sensation. And every outstroke was met by the strike
of the strap on my humping ass. Each blow was harder. I knew that
I must be bruising, but it no longer seemed to matter. All that
mattered was the mouth that was driving me insane.

Suddenly, the strap was gone. Strong hands gripped my hot
buttocks and spread them. Something hard and very slick slid
between my cheeks and straight into my anus. Monique's training
paid off, because whatever it was slipped in without discomfort.
Womanly thighs brushed against the back of my own, and firm,
round breasts laid against my back. Monique was making anal love
to me with one of her strap on dildos as Roselie tried to suck my
soul out of me. Monique's arms hugged me and her hands began
teasing at my nipples as she kept up the steady thrusting in time
to Roselie's sucking.

I went berserk. I am surprised that I did not break something,
either a bone or one of the stocks. I have never orgasmed like
that in my life. I passed out from the intensity of it.

When I came to, I was lying on the floor, released from the
stocks. Both women were petting me and cooing over me. They
helped me to my feet and took me upstairs where they both helped
clean me in Monique's indecently large shower. It is an
indication of how wiped out I really was that being in the shower
with two soapy slick, gorgeous women did not rouse me from my
fugue. I slept cuddled between Roselie and Monique that night. 

The next morning, my bottom was a little tender and somewhat
bruised, but nothing that I could not deal with. And the
combination of oral sex with the strapping had made the actual
scene intensely sexy. Monique was over the moon over the success
of her scene, and I was happy for her. "Now, all we have to do
was ensure that all corporal scenes include Roselie."  I told her
with a smirk.
"Oh yeah?  Well, don't get too used to it, Mr. Evans. That cock
is MINE!  Roselie only gets to have it when I say so and only
when you have both been VERY good!"  She retorted saucily.

What could I do?  I scooped her up and carried her off back to
the bedroom, where I demonstrated just how good I could be.

Chapter 47:    A New Scene, and A First Topping

It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. So far, Monique's deal
had worked out pretty well for both of us. I had dealt with her
scenes and had even learned to enjoy some of them, and Monique
had been able to introduce some fairly rough play without
stepping over the invisible line we had drawn together. 

I arrived at work, prepared for the recommenced Wednesday mini-
scenes. Since today was a mini-scene day, Monique had me spend
the night at my house so that we could both prepare our
respective "surprises" for the other. My offering today was
actually not a panty at all, but rather a satin and silk loin
cloth. It was as close as I could come to a "Thanksgiving theme"
without having turkeys or Pilgrim hats on them. Sadly, the
Pilgrims were not much into the sensual side of things and there
was not much you could do with them that was sexy. I smiled,
thinking whether Monique accepted the offering or not, there
would be two bare pussies all day today in the office since the
loin cloth did not cover those essentials. One change that had
occurred since Roselie had played with us was that now I bought
both women a pair of the panties I wore to work. Monique had
decided that if SHE had to come to work bare bottomed, so would
her secretary-sub.

I laid out my gift wrapped boxes on my desk, and set about
starting the work day. Roselie arrived and shortly stuck her head
in my office. "Nate, do you know where Monique is?  She is not in
her office and she did not leave me a message about a meeting."

I looked up, somewhat surprised. "No, Rosie, as a matter of fact.
I have not heard her arrive yet today."  I checked my voice mail,
but there was nothing on it from Monique. "Call her home. I will
call my place and see if she tried to reach me and missed me."

I called my answering machine. >you have .... ONE .... message<
the electronic device said in its toneless, staccato voice. 

"Nathan, Oswald just called me."  Jacob Oswald was the Chief
Financial Officer at Corporate Headquarters, and one of the three
officers above Monique in the office hierarchy. Along with the
Chief Operating Officer, James Farquare, Oswald worked for Albert
Pendleton, the office Chief Executive Officer. He wielded a great
deal of power as the budgetary officer of the company and had a
notorious reputation for holding grudges. "I have to meet with
him at seven am. I won't be in the office until whatever he wants
is complete. Please stick to the office in case I need something
quickly. Love you, Nate."  A kissing sound tickled my ear. "See
you as soon as I can, love."

I called Roselie into the office and filled her in, then set
about making sure that nothing hot was languishing on Monique's
desk, either. 

It was almost lunchtime when Monique stormed past my office door
and slammed hers behind her. I stepped out of my office to see an
alarmed Roselie looking at the still vibrating door. "Any
indication what set her off?"  I asked. She shook her head
slowly, still staring at the door. "Well, better not let it
fester."  I headed into my office and picked up the bright
parcels and opened my door into her office.

What greeted me was Monique stalking about her office, swearing
and cursing a blue streak. Her coat was half on/half off the
large couch in her office, her purse was upside down in her desk
chair and her brief case was on the floor in the far corner away
from the door to the main reception area. She saw me and rounded
on me, fury etched on every feature. "DAMN THE MAN!  Damn his
black paternalistic, good old boy soul!"

I kept quiet. I had NOTHING to add to this conversation.

"The bastard insisted on treating me like a 'nice girl'" the word
came out with the force of gutter curse words, "He all but patted
me on the head and told me to go play with my dollies. Said I
should consult you to straighten up my budget submissions if I
was having trouble with the finer points."

It was all clear. Oswald had sprung a budget review on her
without warning, and had caught her cold. Hell, those budget
numbers had been submitted two months ago for next year's
operations. Not only that, but the silly fool had spoken
condescendingly and disparagingly of her abilities in those
areas. I walked over to her desk and sat down in my usual chair. 

"What are you going to do?  Those budget numbers are solid. There
is not a bit of fat in them."

She moved slowly to her desk, and moved her purse from the chair.
I watched her visibly fighting to harness her anger as she
settled into the chair. "I ... am ... not ... sure."  Her words
came out raggedly, with deep breaths in between as she tried to
calm her self. "As you say, the numbers are good and in line with
the fiscal guidance. We can't do our job with less."

"Will Oswald back off?"

"He is not noted for it. Only person he listens to with any
regularity, other than the CEO of course, is Jim Farquare."

I nodded. Everybody listened to the COO because it was an open
secret that when Pendleton retired next year as CEO, Farquare
would move into the top spot. Oswald *was* a toad, but he was too
smart a toad to ignore someone who could fire him in a year.
"Anything he can do for you?  He likes your work."  That was an
understatement. Since the abortive briefing, I had learned that
Farquare was Monique's "sea-daddy" as we called them in the Navy.
Someone who mentored you and saw to the little things that made
it easier for you to fit in and advance on board the ship.
Farquare was definitely on Monique's Fan Club.

"I don't know, Nate. I really hate to ask for help. Dammit, this
is not just business, it is personal, too."

I shook my head. "That is where you are wrong. If you take it
personally, it is. Treat it as a problem with the company,
something that needs to be dealt with. Use the budget as an in
with Farquare. Show him the budget, show him the reasoning, and
then discuss the substance of the meeting with him, not the
personalities. Let him draw his own conclusions. Farquare is a
straight shooter. Oswald will get the idea."

She looked at me, obviously not liking the idea, but not having
any better ones to offer. I stood up, leaving the package on her
desk and walked to the main door. I opened it and called to
Roselie. "Rosie, see if you can get Monique in to see Mr.
Farquare, please. It is important. She will need at least a half
hour, more would be better."  I closed the door after her
acknowledgement and turned back to Monique. She held my offering
in her hands, a sadly pensive look on her face.

"We can't play today, Nate. Or tonight either. I am too angry. I
can't trust myself to domme safely in this kind of emotional
state."

I thought about it. Maybe... "Okay, then, how about you let me
run the show tonight?"

A wary look crossed her face. "You?  Top me?  Nate, I am not sure
that is such a good idea. You have not been trained as a
dominant."

"Nothing extreme, love. Just things you have already shown me you
like, except I decide how fast we go and where. Anytime you say
stop, we stop. Simple as that. No decisions, just me driving you
crazy."  I waggled my brows at her lecherously. She laughed for
the first time that day.

She regarded me thoughtfully. She was definitely intrigued by the
images her mind was conjuring up, this lady of mine. Finally, she
nodded. "All right, under those conditions, I accept. And you
better be good, Evans. Mistress Monique will be grading your
efforts."  I grinned and handed the box back to her.

"Put these on after you talk to Farquare, love."  Her eyes went
wide and then she giggled. She picked up the gift box and
deposited it in her recovered briefcase. I sat back down and
started sketching out the pitch she would need. "Okay, now we
figure out the best way to deal with Farquare." 

The meeting with Farquare was anticlimactic. It went perfectly.
He even called Oswald with her still in his office and told him
that Monique's budget was exactly in line with his (Farquare's)
directions. After that, the budget had been approved over the
phone with no more hassles. Better still, on her way out of his
office Farquare had told Monique that he would see that she did
not have to go through this again. She came into the office as
elated as she had been furious that morning. She flew into my
office, high on her success.

"It was just as you said, Nathan. He backed me, not Oswald. We
won!"

"You are the one who won, Monique. It was your budget."

She gave me a cross look. "I SAID that we won, Mr. Evans. I would
never have gone to Farquare, and even if I had, my approach would
have been different and probably wrong. It was your idea and your
strategy."  She closed my door and then jumped into my lap,
hugging me tightly and kissing me soundly. "I am going to make
you feel SO good tonight, lover!"  She whispered in my ear.

I nipped her ear and whispered "Ah, but I am the one who is going
to be doing the doing tonight, lover. Remember?"  She jerked
upright and stared surprised into my eyes. "Yes, I can see you
do."  I kissed her possessively on her mouth and then boosted her
back up off my lap. "Now, get to work. I have a lot of plans for
tonight, lady, and I would not want you to be late for any of
them."  She gave me a wicked smile, blew me a kiss and headed for
door to her office. 

She stopped in the open door and turned back to me. "Oh Nathan?" 
Her voice sing-songed the question. I looked up to see her
holding her skirt up around her waist. The loin cloth fluttered
enticingly about her hips and legs, a dark smudge of color
through the fine cloth outlining her lovely puss. "You are right,
by the way. I did remember, lover."  She spun on her heels and
then flipped the back of the loincloth into the air, giving me a
view of her lovely bare ass just before the door went shut behind
her.

I wasn't quite so confident about this spur of the moment plan
when it came time to leave. What did I know about pulling off
such scenes?  Particularly one with a woman who had been so 'up'
after that scene with Sondra. I had SEEN the aftermath of that
scene on her buttocks and thighs. Well, this scene would be
nothing like that, and if that was not good enough, then it would
be one more thing that went into the "Not a turn on" list.

I had spent my time since telling her we would do this thinking
through everything I had read, everything I had experienced since
I had embarked on this journey with Monique. I had an idea or two
of what to do. 

We picked up deli sandwiches on the way home. Monique rode the
entire way with her skirt up around her hips, sitting with a
cheek of her fanny in each hand. Every once in a while I would
tell her to give those cheeks a squeeze.

I ushered her into the house, with her fanny still gripped firmly
in her hands. God, but I love her ass. Some men look at breasts
and go crazy, me, I go for a firm, round butt, and Monique has
one of the best I have ever seen. I put the sandwiches in the
microwave and turned to my lady. "Dear?  Please, take off your
jacket and your skirt for me."

Monique's eyebrows rose in surprise. "My skirt and jacket,
Nathan?"  I nodded. "Yes sir."  In moments, she stood before me
in her white blouse, garter belt, stockings and heels. And the
loin cloth which I quickly divested her of. The front of her
blouse fell just above the tiny 'v' of her mons veneris, while
the tails fluttered suggestively about the top of the crease of
her ass. I pulled her into my arms and getting a firm grip on her
buttocks, ravaged her mouth with a kiss that I did not know I was
capable of. Her eyes were half lidded when I released her,
breathing heavily myself.

"Another kiss like that, and we won't do anything other than
spend the night on the kitchen floor making love."

A very female, very satisfied smile flitted across her lips. "I
can think of worse fates, Nathan."  She exuded pure sexual allure
and promise. I was two heartbeats from doing exactly that when
the >>ding<< of the microwave brought me back. 

I kissed her again, hard and quick, then spun her around toward
the microwave. "Get the sandwiches, woman, and bring them and
something to drink into the den. I am hungry."  I beat a hasty
retreat from the kitchen to get myself under control. A soft,
feminine chuckle behind me told me she saw my ploy for the
strategic retreat that it was. 

She brought the sandwiches and drinks in on a tray. We ate in
companionable silence, trading little glances at each other.
Finally, she cleared her throat, and I looked up, meeting her
eyes. "Ummm, Nathan, I thought you were going to top me tonight."

I nodded. "That's the plan, sweetheart."

Her confusion showed in her eyes. "Well, we have been home now
for over an hour. You haven't even told me what to call you. Are
we going to play or not?"  She sounded just a tad testy.

Grinning, I reached over to her and lifted her chin gently.
"Darling, are you, or are you not, sitting here, with your sweet
feminine charms on display for my masculine enjoyment?"  My hand
that had been holding her chin trailed slowly down her body to
gently comb her pubic hair with my finger tips. She flushed, then
nodded. "As to what you call me, I am rather fond of 'Nathan',
dear."

"Now, why don't you lead the way up to your bedroom, dear?  I
think the time has come for your test."  THAT got her attention.
'Test' in Monique's terminology usually means a corporal session
of some type. I could tell she really wanted to question me, but
one of her ground rules is that I never question her about a
scene ahead of time, that I take it as it comes. In this case,
her own restrictions restrained her and she did not like it. "All
you have, Monique, is my promise that nothing will happen you
have not personally shown me you like. With a few twists, of
course."  I grinned at her little dilemma. "Now get going. I want
to watch that lovely bottom of yours swaying as you go up the
stairs ahead of me."  

She wrinkled her nose pertly at me, and then moved off toward the
stairs. She gave a whole new meaning to the word "slink". By the
time we reached the bedroom, I was painfully hard. This was going
to be really hard to pull off, and not because I had any qualms
about what I had planned. Rather, because I was going to be hard
pressed not to end it too quickly by fucking the hell out her.

I followed her into her very feminine bedroom. "Stand over by the
wall mirrors, facing the bed, darling."   Those mirrors were set
up like the mirrors at clothing stores - three mirrors on angled
walls so that you could see every side of the person standing
before them. With Monique facing me, I could simultaneously enjoy
every bit of her luscious body without her having to change her
position.

The room was dark, lit only by dimmed track lighting. "Present
yourself to me, darling. Show me every feminine inch of you. Make
me so wild for you that I will forget my little test for you
tonight."  She started to move toward me. I held up a hand.
"Ah-ah. Only rule is you cannot touch me. You have to make me
want you with your purely feminine wiles."

A single eyebrow rose as she accepted the challenge. Her mouth
turned up into a grin of utterly feminine power. She laughed, a
low, throaty laugh that was everything sexy and confident in a
woman. "You don't stand a chance, Nathan."  I swallowed hard
thinking that she just might be right.

Languidly, she turned her back to me, and lifted her hands to her
hair. Slowly, she slid hairpins from her working hairdo, letting
one dark auburn lock after another bounce down from her back. The
contrast of white silk and dark fire made my throat dry. I loved
her hair and she knew it. She impudently tossed the last pin over
her shoulder at me and then sensuously finger combed the silken
mass of hair until it hung, shimmering in the dim light, to the
small of her back. My fingers ITCHED to sink themselves into the
fiery mass.

She shook that crimson mane so that it fell over her face and
breasts like a shimmering cloak of red silk. Her hands
disappeared under the concealment of her hair to her white silk
blouse. In the shadowed image of the mirror, I watched as the
blouse parted, all the buttons freed, but all I saw was her
belly. Everything above remained veiled. The silk whispered
against her arms as the blouse fell from her arms to pool behind
her black office pumps. The garter belt followed, as she undid
each clasp on her smoke colored stockings before letting the bit
of white satin fall. A front clasping lace brassiere seemed to
appear by magic from beneath her 'hair shirt' and likewise,
fluttered to the floor.

With great care, she bent over, presenting her lovely ass to me,
but still hiding her breasts, while she slowly rolled each of the
stockings down her legs in turn. She slipped off each shoe, only
to put it back on after that leg's hose joined the growing pile
of feminine dainties on the floor about her feet.

She rose and turned to face me, her eyes, lips and nipples
peeking out at me among the silky strands of her hair. Putting
her fists to her hips, she tossed her head, fling her hair back
from her face and breasts into a wild, sensuous disarray of
glistening heat. Her face took on a cast of uniquely feminine
arrogance, a smile of total victory played teasingly on her lips.
There was no doubt in her mind that she had won, and that the
next move on my part would be to ravish her.

And that was the only thing that stopped me. In this sensuous
battle of the sexes, I would not be the loser. If all went well,
maybe we both would win, but I was not going to lose that easily.
So I sat there, enjoying the vision of womanly beauty and
feminine power that was Monique Sanderson, the woman I loved.
Many times she had done this to me, during a scene, just watched
me, looked at me, making me feel like she saw every fault, every
imperfection inside and out. It never failed to make me cringe,
at least a little, and I wondered how Monique would react to the
treatment. I grinned slowly at the thought of it.

That got a reaction!  Her chin rose a few degrees higher, her
smile became a little less confident, but she would be damned if
she would give in to what she had to recognize as one of her own
games. My grin broadened, and her spine stiffened. If she was a
male, her reaction would be pure macho. What was it in a woman? 
I would have to ask her later. MUCH later.

I stood and walked over to my love. As I approached, I saw that
she was breathing heavily, that her nipples were erect and hard,
that her skin was dewy with her perspiration. I was not the only
one affected by our interplay, but I was the only one dressed. It
was not much, but it was an advantage and I took full advantage
of it. I scooped her up into my arms, one under her shoulders,
one under her knees, and kissed her deeply. Her arms came around
my neck as she pulled my head down to intensify the kiss. I
carried her to the bed, and set her gently down to lie on the
bed.
Trying to emulate her own care and deliberation of a few minutes
before, I undid the knot on my necktie and slipped it off. I
knelt one knee onto the bed beside her and slipped the tie
through the ornate metal working of the bedstead. Bending over
her, I kissed her again while taking each of her wrists in one of
my hands. Continuing the kiss, I lifted her hands above her head
to where the ends of my tie rested on her pillow. I slipped each
end into one of her hands. Kissing her one more time I moved back
to look into her arousal glazed eyes. "Test time, sweetheart, but
a very easy one. All you have to do, is orgasm. When I tell you
too, of course, and by my touch."  Her eyes were wide as she
listened. "If you let go of my tie, I will stop what I am doing
until you get a grip again. And if you should bring yourself to
orgasm, then you fail my little test."  I bent down to suck
lightly on her lower lip. "Oh... if you can't take it, just use
our safe word, love, and you can cum as soon and as much as you
want to."

Still dressed, I slid down the bed, and pulled off her pumps.
Getting kicked with those stilettos was NOT on my agenda. I
pulled my bag of tools out from under the bed where I had
collected them while Monique had been finishing the dinner
preparations. Oil glistened on my hands as I massaged her calves
and feet, working out the kinks I knew followed a long day in her
power shoes. "MmmmmmMMMmmmmm. Nathan, that feels marveloussss.."
she hissed in spite of herself.

I changed to a different preparation as I worked above her knees
- this oil was safe to ingest and I planned to do a lot of
ingesting this evening. The liquid was cool to the touch and her
skin was getting hotter by the second as her arousal grew. Every
erogenous zone, every little hot button discovered over the
months of learning to please this woman was teased, massaged and
fondled. Except for the ones in the six by six inch square at the
apex of her lovely thighs. I kissed the hollow of her throat,
licked at the little indentations behind her ears, nibbled at her
aureoles and nuzzled her belly. I ran my fingernails along her
ribs, grazed her thighs with my knuckles and gently mauled her
heaving breasts with loving firmness. 

And I kissed her every way I could think of. Deep, ravaging
explorations of her mouth to teasing nipping tastes of her lips.
It was during one of the teasing kisses, that she broke first,
wrapping her arms around me and trying to pull me down to her for
more in depth kisses. I do not know how, but I did stop. When her
lips locked on my suddenly unresponsive mouth, her eyes went wide
in astonishment. I simply held my position and she realized what
had happened. It was almost funny how frantically she grabbed for
the tie.

I moved to her pussy, and lavished every bit of love I felt for
her there. She was soaking. "God, Monique, you are delicious. So
very sweet and spicy hot at the same time."  I forced myself to
simply taste, to savor and not to glut myself on her. Not yet. 

Every muscle in her was contracting and relaxing spasmodically.
She was breathing in jerky breaths. Her thighs were trying to
clutch at my head and hold me where she longed to have me.
Several times, I felt the subtle little contractions that
signaled Monique's imminent completion, and each time, I backed
off. 

The last time, she wailed, "Damn you, Nathan, please, let me
cum!"  She was thrashing, but doing her level best to hold onto
the tie. I wondered, fleetingly, if she could be made to code
word from frustration and need alone, but just as quickly,
decided that I did not want to know. 

"Cum for me, Monique. Give me you pleasure. Give it to ME!"  I
yelled as I dove back to her pussy. She was wild now, completely
out of control. Her hips surged to meet me. I had never, in all
our time together, seen her like this. She was consummately,
sumptuously female, at once needing and demanding, giving and
accepting. 

I took her clitoris with my lips while beating it with the tip of
my tongue. Her orgasmic surge lifted me off her momentarily. I
followed her down and gripped her hips with my hands to hold on
as she bucked and screamed her completion. 

Hands gripped my hair and pulled me up to the head of the bed.
She wrapped herself around me every way she could, twining arms
and legs about my still clothed body. Her kiss was as demanding
as any I had given her, but when it was over, she sort of
collapsed around me, clinging to me. "Nathan, that was
wonderful."  Her words were slurred, drowsy. "And... as soon as I
recover a little.. I.... will........take ....care ....of..."

I waited for her to finish her sentence. She never did. I did not
know a woman could purr and snore at the same time.

End Part 15


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