Message-ID: <19654eli$9902040443@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: [New Stories] Protecting the Mistress (22/31) (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: <36bef8c7.9442498@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 22: Confessions and Other Confrontations It began as a fairly ordinary Thursday night. That is, Gerald thought later, if anything in the past weeks could be considered even remotely "ordinary." He'd arrived home, had taken care of his evening chores, had eaten his dinner and then had gone into his study to work. There had been a bit more paper work in his briefcase than usual but still, he'd only spent about thirty minutes more than his typical hour. That was all - just a mere half hour longer before coming back out to face whatever Mistress Mary had planned for this evening. Nothing very significant in that. There were, however, two very significant differences between that Thursday evening and all but one of the other Thursdays he'd spent in Mistress Mary's keeping. The first was that this particular Thursday immediately preceded a Cabal Congregation weekend, which was why he had brought home the extra work that evening. He wouldn't have Friday night or any other time over the weekend to catch up before Monday at the office. The second, more significant difference was that Mistress Mary had not been ready or even wanted to play when he'd exited his office. When he'd started to make the ritual obeisance that she had devised to put him back into his slave role, she'd caught him mid-kneel and told him to remain standing. Instead, she had beckoned him into the living room. Gerald followed wondering just what the hell was going on. She'd surely been acting strange lately, he reflected - very quiet and pensive. Even her scene chatter had seemed restrained, almost forced - like something she felt she had to do, but wasn't enjoying very much. He hoped she wasn't sickening or anything, but whenever he asked, she'd said she was fine. Maybe now he'd finally find out what was really bothering her. A crystal decanter of his favorite brandy and two snifters had been set out on the small coffee table. Mary settled herself onto his sofa and then gestured him into his favorite chair - a chair that had been denied him for the last eight weeks except during his eight weekly hours of freedom. Mary had co- opted it for her throne immediately after his period of servitude had formally begun. "We need a timeout, Gerald," she said firmly, using his "freeman" name. "Yes, Mary?" he responded, his non-use of her title signifying his acceptance of the temporary setting-aside of their formal Mistress and slave roles. Mary blew out a breath and took a sip of her drink. She started to speak at least twice and each time stopped at the last minute, seemingly to reconsider. Finally she shook her head and looked him in the eye. "Gerald, what I am about to do could be construed as, and probably is a violation of the contract, but I feel that I must do it anyway. You know that the contract prohibits me from telling you anything about what I have planned for the demonstration scene before-the-fact?" Cautiously, he nodded, but did not say a word. Mary sighed again and then pressed on. "Well, I am not going to really tell you exactly *what* I am going to do, but I need to discuss one aspect of what it will entail with you before we go any further." "I am not sure you are even supposed to do that, Mary," he said thoughtfully. She waved that away. "Perhaps, but this cannot be helped. Gerry . . . I mean, Gerald, the Cabal Council has communicated a new requirement to me. Unfortunately, that requirement involves you *and* it involves the type of scene they want me to carry out with you on Saturday. In their view, you have not *not agreed* to what they've requested. However, in my view, that is only a hair splitting technicality and not the actual truth of the matter. In fact, you did formally appeal to the Council requesting to have much of what they've demanded I do to you this weekend be excluded from the contract. Unfortunately, your appeal on that point was specifically denied by Gemma." Uncertain where she was going with this, Gerald said "Okay. So what is it you are trying to tell me?" Mary set her snifter down and scooted to the edge of her seat, leaning over toward him. He'd never seen her look so . . . earnest before, and it unnerved him. "They want me to let someone else - someone you do not know, in fact - work you for part of the scene this weekend." She said, with her eyes fixed on his. "More to the point, they want this person to work you without me being present during that part of the scenario." Why, he thought stunned. "Why?" he repeated aloud. Wearily, Mary's head bowed under the stress she was feeling. "Because they know that if I come back to the Cabal, so will you," she gave him a tired little half smile. "At least, you will if I have anything to say about it. About the only thing that scares a dominant more than an out of control, abusive dominant is an out of control submissive with a potential for violent reprisal against a dominant." Mary took another sip from her drink before continuing. "A basic assumption of the Cabal is that, at the Lodge, anyone there registered as a submissive wants to be there and is willing to play within the rules. Or at least," she amended quickly, "That person doesn't mind being there in a submissive role to balance an out of kilter distribution of registered dominants and submissives if he or she had originally registered as a switch. Folks, particularly dominant folks, react to the submissives accordingly. They figure any "resistance" they get from a sub while at the Lodge is part of the game - part of the play from someone who wants to be "conquered" by the dominant." "And a submissive who might take violent exception to that assumption and really take someone's head off before anyone else could do anything to stop him is just too dangerous to have around." Gerald said with quiet resignation. She sat back in her seat and nodded. "That's about it, Gerald. Someone has decided that you might be able to translate your obvious caring and affection for me into control that will assure my safety with you, but that no one else could afford to rely upon you protecting *them*. There are times at the Lodge when they hold "all submissives belong to all dominants" congregations. They are literally afraid that you won't care enough about someone other than me to control that beast they fear is inside you." "And there is no other alternative to this little brainstorm of theirs?" "Yes. You could sign a contract that would bar you from ever returning to the Cabal and that would legally enjoin you from ever talking about the organization." "Why not just give me the contract to sign?" Mary's eyes flashed angrily. "Because I am not willing to ask you to do that," she said flatly. Gerald sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with her about that. "Well, assuming we make it through this, and assuming we are still together, if they are so afraid of me in that situation then why don't we simply agree not to attend any of those "all subs submit to all dominants" congregations?" "Not good enough for them, I'm afraid," she said with a shake of her head. "They insist I give you over to someone else without me being there to help control you." "God." Gerald replied in disgust. "Why do I feel that is not the worst of it? Maybe because the scene itself is not going to be very much fun?" A sad smile answered him. "I've already told you more than I should, Gerald." Then her eyes went dark with fury as she reconsidered that. "Oh hell! I don't give a damn about them and their contract anymore. This is beyond anything I ever considered and to be all but ordered to do it!" Gerald sat quietly, waiting for Mary to go on or to decide not to say anything more. The Cabal was hers and if she was to endanger her standing in that organization, she would do so without prompting from him. Mary took a deep breath and continued with a wry smile. "In for a penny, in for a pound. They have told me to conduct a scene that I have done there in the past - before I met you and one I haven't ever discussed with you. A scene I have never run on you, never planned to run on you, because I knew that it would be hellish for you, love. I may want you to suffer and endure for me, but this is different. What they want me to do and to permit to be done to you is as close to the edge of your limits as I have ever knowingly gone. So close, that it may well be over the line for you." Damn. "So why are you even telling me this? Suppose they ask me if you told me anything?" "Then you answer them honestly, lover," she shrugged indifferently. "As to why I am telling you this? Because I want you to think very carefully about this, and in particular, about how you might feel and react. Think about how you felt, about the emotions evoked during the most difficult, painful, humiliating experiences I have ever put you through . . . " her voice trailed off "Short of that night three months ago, that is, and then double or triple those feelings and emotions. And after you have all that clearly in your mind, I want you to think about someone other than me doing all that to you, without me there to protect you." Gerald started to speak, but Mary forestalled him. "Don't answer me now, Gerald. Tomorrow evening, before we leave, I need to know if you are *absolutely positively* certain you can handle that kind of stress meted out by someone other than me without you losing it. And one more very important thing. I am fairly sure that whomever they pick will not be all that interested in giving you any pleasure or cutting you any slack. That person will be testing you - period - to satisfy herself and the Council that you are safe to play with. If you think you can handle all that without losing it and* if after having been given this very minimal warning, you are still willing, we will leave for the Lodge." "What about my safe word?" "It will still be invoked, darling, but I don't know what good it will really do in the greater context of the contract. Recall that their evaluation of whether or not its use was justified is very subjective and they specifically set this scene up to see you in action. The other scene and the one to come are more to evaluate me." "Shit" Gerald snarled disgustedly, his mind a wild, uncontrolled maelstrom of swirling emotion and barely rational thought. "And if I cannot guarantee my control?" There was no question about him not going - truly willing or not. "Then I phone Gemma and we call this whole trust demonstration thing off. I am not going to put you through that kind of hell unless you go into the scene knowing and accepting that it will be hellish. And obviously, if you are not absolutely sure of yourself under those conditions, I won't put you or anyone else in that type of danger. The Cabal is important to me. But you are infinitely more important." "So, where does that leave us?" "I am not going to train or play with you tonight, Gerald. I want you to go off and think on this. Take a walk if you want. Go down to the corner bar and have a beer - talk to your friendly neighborhood bartender to whatever level of detail you can or want. Come to your own conclusions. I will accept, without question or penalty, whatever you think best." "My first conclusion is that this really sucks, Mary." She winced at the utter disgust he invested in those words. Sighing sadly, Mary nodded to him. "I know, love, and I won't disagree with you." With that, she stood and moved over to stand in front of him. She took her face in both her hands and brought her mouth down on his. The kiss was fierce, at once both possessive and giving. She broke it and moved away before Gerald's arms could fully enclose her. "I am going to bed, Gerald. Forget that damned contract until we get to the Lodge," she paused a moment and then amended. "*If* we get to the Lodge. I want you to think this through carefully. We will talk again tomorrow evening when you get home. Until then, consider yourself a free man." With that, she spun on her heel and moved quickly out of the room. Moments later, he heard the door to what had been his bedroom close. He contemplated the light playing off the mostly untouched amber liquid in his snifter and wondered - what the hell am I going to do now? End Part 22 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----