Message-ID: <19608eli$9902030434@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: [New Story] Protecting the Mistress (18/31) (FemDom, Romance) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tigger@alices.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <36bbcc74.3585074@news.erols.com> Tales of the Cabal: Protecting the Mistress by Tigger Copyright 1999, All Rights Reserved. Archiving and reposting of this work is permitted only on sites where *no* fee (including so-called adult checks) of any type is charged and provided that my authorship, the story itself and this statement of rights are included and are unchanged. This story is based on the Cabal as I developed it in one of my first stories, "Domination Games." This story is archived at the Nifty Archive. Url: www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Tigger/ The file is Domination-Games.html *********** Protecting the Mistress by Tigger Part 18: The Beginning of the End A happy and sexually relieved Gerry once again made his way back to his station after yet another mandatory trip to the Sissy's Room. Dina had met him there, giving him another "attawench" and encouraged him to keep on keeping on. His skin still twitched where that redhead Domme had plied that incredible feather. And the post-orgasmic afterglow relaxed him even further. A quick glance at the clock told him he'd be off duty in another hour or so. Maybe then Mary would relent a bit, and let him know that he hadn't really done all that badly today. "WENCH!" a loud, imperious male voice called. "HOW LONG MUST WE WAIT FOR SERVICE?!?!" Gerald looked in the direction of the shout and saw that it came from his section. Someone had left and their place had been taken by a pair of couples - one obviously the Domme and Master, the other pair just as obviously their leashed and collared submissives. A brief chill crawled down Gerald's spine as he contemplated serving a Master. "What are you waiting for, wench?" Mistress Cynthia, the Maitresse D'HOTEL hissed into his ear. "Go tend your table." Her sharp order was marked by a warning swat of her crop. Gerry vamped his way over to the table and presented himself and asked for their orders. He was careful to keep the Domme between himself and the male dominant. He took their orders, thinking it odd that they wanted some of the pudding left over from the evening meal, but went to carry out their requests so he could run back to the safety of his station. Something about the dominant couple, particularly the male, had what little hair Gerald had left standing on end. When he returned with their drinks and the pudding, the Mistress spoke for the first time. "I understand, wench, that you provide other . . . services, in addition to serving drinks." The sly tone in her voice made alarm bells go off in Gerald's head. In spite of his decision to play this out, he became once again wary. "Yes, Mistress, so long as it does not violate my Owner's orders or my own limits." "You do use the standard Cabaret safe word, slut?" she asked. Gerald nodded, swallowing hard. Along with calling every dominant Master or Mistress, another simplification of the regular dominant/submissive protocols was that all serving persons were given the same safe word which was "safe word", "Very well. My Lord has had a difficult day." she sneered at the male submissive who literally cowered under her fierce scowl. "*Someone* has required a good deal of discipline today and My Lord's arms and shoulders are painfully stiff from all that. . . . correction." Not knowing what else to say, Gerald cautiously replied "Yes, Mistress?" "Well, don't just stand there, slut! Massage him!" Gerald blanched. This was getting too close. And he couldn't really safe word out of it. He could see that Cabal Council Kangaroo Court. "And what heinous thing were you asked to do that caused you to safe word, Mr. Harris?" "I was ordered to give a neck and shoulder massage to a male dominant, Sir." "And is such behavior specifically in violation of your contract with Mistress Jones?" "No sir." "So, the mere act of touching another male's shoulders is so repugnant to you that you needed to safe word? How do you survive in the vanilla world, sir?" No, Gerald thought as he broke off that line of thought, he could not safe word over this. He could do this, he told himself. Just treat it like the old days in the locker room, helping someone massage out a cramp. It's a guy thing, after all. His plan of action clear in his mind, Gerald set down his serving tray and took station behind the male dominant. Calling upon his massage lessons learned helping Mistress Mary through her monthlies, Gerald gently probed for areas of localized tightness before beginning the massage. His mind still in the locker room, Gerald was gratified by a soft groan of relief as he broke through a particularly stubborn knot. "Shayla." the male ordered to the slave girl. "Under the table, girl, and pleasure me. Without a word, the woman slipped beneath the table. Almost immediately, the man's groans of relief became moans of pleasure. He began to shift restlessly beneath Gerald's fingers. This was no longer the locker room and this was no longer just a therapeutic massage. This was now a sexual act, but at least he had not been the one ordered under the table. Then the man, deeply into whatever the girl was doing to him, arched into Gerald, turned his head and wetly kissed the one of Gerald's hands closest to his face. Gerald froze, his hands stilled as he struggled to regain his emotional balance and control. The Domme, seeing that Gerald had ceased the ordered massage, jumped to her feet and began to "encourage" him with her flogger. "No one told you to stop, slut!" she cried loudly. Mechanically, Gerald resumed his hand movements, although without the skill or intent he had used before. Suddenly, the man stiffened, his entire body going rigid as a cry of pleasure escaped his lips. With his orgasm, the Domme ceased flogging Gerald and the slave girl slipped back into her seat. His vision was locked on the Master, but still, out of the corner of his eye, Gerald saw that she had the bowl of pudding with her which she then slid over to her Master. He smiled and then looked up at Gerald. "That is enough of that for now, wench." With a quick, bobbing curtsey, Gerald moved to pick up his tray, but was stopped when the dominant's hand came down on top of it. "The reason I asked for the pudding, is because I was not satisfied with it at dinner. I thought it was a bit. . . salty." He put a spoon into the bowl and handed it over to Gerald who took it without moving his eyes from the male dom. "Perhaps you would taste it for me and tell me what you think?" Slowly, Gerald began to dip a spoonful of the caramel concoction out of the bowl. It was then that he looked down into the bowl and saw a thick, white gruel-like substance covering the top of the cream colored pudding. It took Gerald several long moments to put that together with the slave girl having the pudding with her when she pleasured her master to come up with what that was and what these people intended him to do. Red rage began to bubble up inside him. If the pudding had been in the Cabal's fine dinner china instead of the slave mug Gerald had used, shards of pottery would be decorating the floor and table. Only the last frail sliver of Gerald's control prevented him from exploding and trying to take down the man in front of him. With a cry of fury, Gerald hurled the offending cup to the floor, turned and fled from the room as fast as his high heeled feet could manage. ~---------------~ Mary had again been watching the impromptu scene, curious and fearful as to how Gerald would react to being made to serve another male. She had specifically not made this a limit in the scene because it was one of the things she had to get Gerald past and besides, she trusted the Cabal men to be as sensitive to Gerald's situation as the Dommes had been thus far. Mary had been very pleased that he'd not safe worded when ordered to massage the man. She'd half expected it when she'd heard the orders. He'd even continued once the play became overtly sexual, albeit after having been encouraged with the Domina's flogger. Her interest had quickly changed to concern when Gerry had red with fury. Something had gone badly wrong. She saw all the signs of an infuriated Gerald and then the cup of and its contents ended up smashed on the floor at the feet of the two dominants. There was no doubt that it had not been a part of whatever play scene the two dominants had been acting out with her lover. Gerald was truly trying to escape, she thought sadly, but where could he go? Dressed as he was, Mary sighed unhappily to herself, the answer was no where. She still held the receipt for his personal belongings so he could not even retrieve his clothing or wallet without returning to her. ~--------~ "Geraldine!" Cynthia, the Mistress in Charge yelled into the kitchen. Like most of the others in attendance, she had been enjoying Master Victor's and Mistress Beth's play session with the male slut of Mary's, so she had seen him run, deserting his station. "Come here, Geraldine." If only I could have had a few more minutes, Gerry thought as he rose and walked over to face Mistress Cynthia. Just a few more stinking minutes. "Follow me, slave." she ordered coldly. Moments later, Gerry was back, his shoulders slumping in utter defeat as he followed Cynthia up on to the raised dias, where she quickly restrained him in the standing hand and neck pillory. Even from her position, Mary could see that Gerald had completely lost and forgotten all sense of fun or play. "This slave has deserted her station and attempted to hide from her duties. I sentence her to five hard strokes of the crop." The tall Domina announced. Mary turned away at this point, but she still heard the "whizzz' of the crop slicing through the air, and the "swacckk" of it striking flesh. Five times. What she did not hear was a single sound from Gerry. And that frightened her. ~---------~ Gerry slowly made his way back down from the dias. Mistress Cynthia ordered him to "Take your break, slave and while you are at it, fix your face. You have fifteen minutes." Gerald did not even bother to acknowledge her. He simply trudged off in the direction of the Sissy's Room. There was none of the bounce or flirtatious hip-sway to his movements now - just a man walking as best and as quickly as he could in the painfully tall heels. The domina Gemma had called Rayna joined Mary at her table with her tall, blond husband in tow. She introduced herself and then waved away Mary's attempt to thank her for trying to help Gerry. "It's okay. Gemma has done it for me in the past when I pushed poor Steffy too hard." Rayna gave her husband a loving and proprietary caress on the cheek with her hand. "Only problem is, whatever good it did went down the tubes when Victor and Beth tried to push his buttons with their games. Was that part of your plan for him?" "No. I did not set that up as I did with Hera and as Gemma obviously did with you. I just did not do anything to prevent it." "I guessed as much." Rayna said with a grimace. "They try to pull that stunt on any first-time serving wench. Victor gets off on seeing them eat his semen and he particularly enjoys it when the wench is a sissy-slave." "I didn't know that." Mary sighed. "Since I started with Gerry, I haven't spent much time in the Cabaret. He prefers to serve in private and until this. . . event, I have always honored that preference. Those two are new members and I haven't seen their play style before. If I had, I would have pulled him out of there as soon as I saw them sit down in his section. I was even pleased with the massage thing because he needed to learn how to deal with such things a little better, but after that. . ." Mary shook her head sadly. At that moment, Gerald returned to his station, a wide smile pasted on his ruby-red lips. Mary and her table companions watched with growing dismay as he went through the motions of serving snacks and drinks to the revelers in his section. Mary kept a close eye on Gerald over the next half hour as he moved from the bar to one of his assigned tables with yet another tray of drinks, and then back to the bar with another list of orders. Throughout, regardless of how he was touched, what was said to him, that smile did not waver a bit, but neither did he even acknowledge or slow down when one of the women slid her hand up beneath his skirt as he passed her by, as he had been doing earlier. Rayna shook her head sadly. "It's an act. There's nothing there. No reaction, no sense of having another person on the other side of that smile. He's just going through the motions." "I think you need to get him out of here, Mistress." the man called Stefan said softly, his clear deep voice surprising Mary. "Nothing good is coming from keeping him out there on the floor. It's like he is in shock." "Exactly." Rayna continued. "That trick with the semen in the pudding was one step too far. And yet," she said wonderingly, "He's still trying. Maybe not as well as he had earlier, but he hasn't quit. He must love you something fierce, Mary." Rayna sighed. "I have never seen a slave hate what he is doing that much and keep on trying." "I'd have safe worded before I ever let Cynthia drag me up on that dias." Stefan added as he saw what Mary had. "Hell, I probably would have backed out before the end of the afternoon session, but definitely before being put with the serving wenches. I can't imagine why he still hasn't. Don't you two have a safe word?" Rising to her feet, Mary replied absently, her eyes fixed on Gerald. "I thought we did, and right now, I wish he'd used it. Look, I need to go. Thank you for trying to help, and for coming over here to tell me what you just did." "I really am sorry, Mary." Rayna added. "I hope things work out okay for you both. He seems like a nice guy." "I hope so, too, Rayna. And thank you again for your help in this. Really. I will take it from here." And with that, she moved off toward the Maitresse D'hotel station to speak with Mistress in Charge Cynthia. Apparently, she'd guessed right when she'd decided what she needed to do in these demonstration scenes to get into her lover's head and get him past the walls and demons that threatened to separate them. Unfortunately, this demonstration had evidently gone too far, and they now stood to lose everything they had just gained. End Part 18 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----