SoulMates Part Eleven: Rebirth

Next Part Twelve: The San Francisco Scene.
Previous Part Ten: Failure of a Scene

Chapter 28: Relearning Trust and Learning New Tricks

Contrary to what either of us may have expected after our Wednesday reconciliation in my bed, getting back into Monique's training program was not very smooth. The weekend and then the next Wednesday came and went without either of us initiating much. Frankly, I was ill at ease all day that Wednesday, waiting for her to spring something on me. I had worn panties, but they were a pair I had worn before and I did not have a token pair for Monique. Something about shopping for women's clothing, knowing that they were for me, stopped me in my tracks at a store's threshold. I think Monique sensed my ambivalence, and perhaps shared it, because several times that day, while we were in her office, she had eyed me, then the door lock controls, but had done nothing with them.

At the end of the day, Monique dismissed me with an excuse of a pressing commitment. To my great surprise, my reactions to getting "off scott free" were mixed - relief colored with concern. Concern, because although I could not honestly say I wanted to resume all of her games, I knew that she did love those games. That the games had often been unpleasant for me, and on only sporadic occasions exciting, was not at all the point. She needed to express that aspect of her persona, and her sexuality; I needed her. More than that, I needed to give her everything she needed.

That evening, I turned to my collection of now well-thumbed and dog eared books on dominance and submission. My real problem, I decided, was that the concept of "submissive headspace", that state of mind where the submissive finds himself flying somewhere, aware only of those sensations provided by the dominant, was completely alien to me. I had tried discussing this with Monique, had even questioned Roselie, but it still did not make sense to me.

On reflection, I began to think that the key was that they entered a scene because the dynamics and the interactions of the scene were an end for them, a desired goal for its own sake. Those interactions between Monique and Roselie, their responses to the emotionally charged situations they built for themselves, were natural, pleasurable, and made the sometimes painful leftovers of the scene almost comforting reminders of pleasures shared. The closest I could relate to that concept was the pride I used to feel in sore muscles the day after winning a big match or game.

In counterpoint to that joyful sharing, I responded by rote during a scene, always following a mental script. I entered a scene as the means to an end, and endured the consequences during and after as necessary side effects of achieving my real goal. Any pleasure I derived from the hurts and discomforts that remained after an encounter came from Monique's smile of pleasure, or her expressed pride in my determination. Victory over trial was my principle source of satisfaction. Thus the positives derived solely from the D&S aspects of relationship stemmed, not from some basic part of me, but from sources external to Nathan Evans. The only internally originated pleasures were those of the one human being seeing to the special needs of his mate. And I was beginning to think that those other benefits would never truly be part of me. The price of Monique in my life would be submission, or perhaps bottoming would be more correct, to Mistress Monique for the rest of my life.

Once again, it came down to that payment. Much of my present misgiving obtained from my assessment that the rate of payment seemed to be escalating. Maybe that perception was wrong and this was just the natural progression of training, but each corporal session seemed harsher than the one before it. Paddlings were a part of Wednesday night scenes again. Although they were limited to intensities that did not preclude my functioning normally the next day, their resumption constituted an escalation. Only Monique's enhanced sensitivity to me and my real condition, combined to my increasing tolerance to the discomfort, enabled us to walk closer to the edge without taking me over it.

I wished I could find this "headspace", so I could truly share, appreciate and exalt this facet of Monique, instead of merely offering submissive behavior to her like some type of ritual sacrifice. I closed the book I had been reading and set it aside. I would have to talk to Monique again. And I would continue to endure. My eyes fell on a dark blue velvet box sitting prominently on my fireplace hearth. Yes, I would endure until I had earned the right to offer her the ring in that box.

Thursday at work went smoothly with none of the tension that had marred the previous day. So smoothly, in fact, that all work that could be done that day was essentially complete by lunchtime. We could pull out some long range stuff to keep us busy later on, but for now, we were free. I invited Monique out for lunch, she countered with the offer to take lunch in her private suite. Feeling brave, I accepted and followed her out of the office to the elevator.

We ordered sandwiches and coffee for lunch, and some fruit and cheese for desert. Finger food is easier to eat when holding hands. The stark duality of our budding togetherness seemed to be defined in that gesture. The hand that wielded the crop and paddle, that brought pain I had not yet been able to redirect, brought quiet, almost holy joy and contentment to my soul just by resting in mine. And because she was Monique, because she sensed so much about me, she knew. She knew and she squeezed my hand.

"You really should oil those gear wheels turning in your head, Nate. I can practically hear them grinding. It does not take too much empathy to know that yesterday was a bad day to take up where we left off. Do you want to talk about it?" Her voice was gentle, and the smile she gave me was a little sad.

My grip tightened on her hand, but she did not wince or pull away. With conscious effort, I relaxed my grip, and took a deep, cleansing breath. "I don't know if I will ever be able to give myself up to you, Monique. Not the way Roselie does, and not the way people describe themselves in the books. I understand that you need this; I understand that it is an important part of what makes you the woman that I love. I don't understand how to accept your disciplines, your corrections, and find pleasure beyond the gift of it to you. Knowing that I have done something just for you."

"How do you feel, Nathan, really, when you kneel to me, are bound by me, or are corrected by me. What is going on in that head of yours?"

"Sometimes I feel silly, artificial, like I am playing a child's game. On the other hand, the oral loving, the pampering, the worship, those are wonderful, satisfying and self affirming for me. I would revel in those and do them with you and for you without the dominance and submission overtones. Other times, when you paddle me, or when you bind me in some god awful uncomfortable position, I merely feel determined, unwilling to quit and know that I have failed to give you something very important. And it is important to me, because it is important to you. But I read about these people who say they love the paddlings, the discomfort and it simply does not compute."

Her hand was limp in mine, not moving, but not gripping either. "You have been with me now, for what, almost five months now?" I nodded, even though the question was rhetorical. "I know that not all of your initiation into this way of loving has been well done, and it is obvious that you do not find anything positive in corporal discipline, but can't you point to any of it that was pleasurable, erotic, fun?"

"Some were. Playing the submissive who is forced to satisfy you orally or take care of your skin or whatever, is sexy. I love taking care of you - it is self affirming to me as a man - as your man. Whether we are playing your games or I am just helping you get going in the morning, that would be the case. Dressing in women's clothes was enlightening and interesting. But, cross dressing and those other games are not things I would do for any reason other than because you asked me to do them that way. Now that I have done them, I would only do them again for you, not for myself."

"So where does that leave us, Nathan? You can't find balance in most of the scenes that I find pleasure in. Is it just a subtle form of abusing you? What happens now? Are you going to quietly leave my life?"

I gripped her hand so tightly she cried out in surprise, her eyes flashing up to mine. "I can no more live without you than I can live without air. It would be abuse if there was not a reason for it, a goal to be had." I said with quiet intensity. "We continue, if you will. The prize is enough to warrant the cost. I will keep trying, keep learning, and perhaps, someday, find that balance. Somehow, we will find something that helps us both."

I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly. Slowly, she relaxed and then returned the embrace. We lay there, on the floor of her suite, in our business suits, cuddling away the insecurity and trying to control the doubts.

"Nathan? I have an idea. Would you session with me and Roselie? See what we do, see how she feels? Could you share that with us and see if that might help you resolve these conflicts? I promise that I won't make any demands on you as far as you and Roselie making love. She may fondle you a bit, but that is all, and you won't have to do anything you don't want to with her."

I pulled back from the embrace to look her in the eye. "Not a go-no go? Safewords allowed if I can't handle what I see? I can get out and leave? I am not sure how I would react seeing her being hurt, even if I know that she wants it."

She considered that for a long while. Evidently she had something in mind, and was loathe to give in quite that much. Finally, she assented. "All right. I promise, safeword always in effect. If you need it, use it. I will stop everything and release you to leave." She sighed softly. "I would prefer, though, that you really try to stick it out, Nathan. Part of the problem may be that you have not been exposed to the scene from any other perspective than as the recipient, the bottom. Maybe, if you saw the pleasures that others find in it, with your own eyes instead of reading accounts of them, you might be able to open yourself to them."

I nodded. "I promise to try. What else can I do? I love you and I want you to be happy. When?"

"Saturday, Nathan. I want you at my place at seven am. I will set up everything with Roselie." She hugged me again tighter. "We will make it, Nathan. We will be fine."

Our clothes were a bit wrinkled when we got back to the office, but if she noticed, Roselie chose not to comment.

Chapter 29: Roselie Under Fire

Arm muscles and tendons tight, I tested the bonds on my wrists. I was seated in a highbacked wooden table chair. My arms were bound behind me with soft-fur line cuffs connected to a chain. There was enough "play" in the chain that my arms were not painfully taut or to make the chair back cut into my armpits, but I could not get out of the chair or move my arms in front of me either. I think the chain was wrapped around some structural part of the chair to preclude such movements. My ankles were cuffed, too, and were chained to the rear legs of the chair so that my knees bent back along the out side of the chair and only my toes could touch the floor.

Across the room from me was Roselie, dressed, or perhaps undressed, as she had been when she met me at the door. Fine white lingerie that hid only the barest of essentials, almost but not quite transparent. Dark, gossamer fine, seamed stockings, held up by a shiny, satiny white garter belt, hugged her legs down to white spiked heels that had to be more than four inches tall. Around her neck was a stark black, velvet choker, that had a pink and cream cameo pinned to it. From the short glance I had gotten of it, the face reminded me of Monique.

She had met me at the door, and had led me to this room, as if walking in front of a man, the cheeks of her lovely bottom all but bare and bouncing saucily with each step, was the most normal thing in the world. She had taken me into the den, and told me that Monique wanted me to submit to bondage for the first part of the session. I was rather surprised when I had been bound still fully dressed, but Roselie had merely seated me in the chair and then had efficiently and quickly restrained me to my front row seat.

After binding me, Roselie had walked to the center of the room and began posing. I was given a detailed tour of her very lovely body in a variety of flirtatious and sexy poses. She would change position, hold that long enough for me to get a thorough look, then stretch languidly before moving to the next pose. It was like watching a 1950's Playboy shoot. None of the poses were overtly sexual, and I did not see so much as a hint of nipple or pubic hair, but the intensely sensual beauty and teasing nature of Roselie were displayed to perfection.

Monique arrived after I had been subjected to this subtle torture for about half an hour. She was dressed casually, in a sweater, jeans and running shoes and pulled a rolling suitcase, like the ones that flight attendants use with telescoping tow-pulls, behind her. "Good morning, Nathan. Has Roselie been keeping you entertained?" She brushed her hand against the uncomfortably tight bulge in my jeans. "Hmmm, yes, I see that she has. Most effectively, too, it would seem." I had only worn this pair because Monique had told me how much she liked the way the "hugged my buns", and because I did not expect to be wearing them. The things were damnably tight and getting tighter by the minute. She grinned widely as I squirmed, partly from her scrutiny, partly to try and relieve the pressure on my groin.

Chuckling, she set about her business, and in short order, Roselie found herself in a far tighter fix than she had put me in. Her wrists her suspended from a ring in the overhead lighting fixture and pulled tight. Surprised I looked at the chain holding the light to the ceiling and saw that it was far more rugged than it would need to be simply to suspend the light. Obviously, it was intended to be part of Monique's tie-up games. A spreader bar held Roselie's feet a bit wider than shoulder width, but in those stilts she wore, that had to put uncomfortable strains in her lovely calves. Roselie was turned to give me a profile view and then a short chain was run from the spreader bar to a hook underneath the heavy couch, preventing her from moving too far from where Monique had placed her.

Actually, the bondage was not too severe - Roselie was not forced to put her weight on her arms, and she could shift her feet a bit to keep the blood moving. Monique rummaged for a bit more and pulled out a long, smooth, bullet shaped silver object, connected by a coiled black cord to a box about the size of a shoe box. Roselie recognized it, even I was not immediately sure of its purpose, because her eyes went wide when she saw it. "Yes, dear, now things get more interesting."

Monique reached to Roselie's hips, gripped the satin ribbon bows on her g-string panties, and pulled. The gusset of the panty fluttered down, and hung between her legs. Her buttocks must have been gripping the string that had been between them. From my vantage point, all I could see was Roselie's pelvic bone, she was just slightly back to me in profile so I could not get a clear view of her pubis. Monique gave the back of the bullet a twist and an audible hum filled the room - the bullet was a vibrator, and the shoebox must have been a power pack for it. Kissing her friend deeply, Monique moved the silver wand over Roselie's body with one hand, while teasing her gently with the pointed nails of her other hand. In very little time, Roselie was moaning softly into Monique's mouth, her feet shifting against the restrictive spreader bar as she tried to arch her body into the feathery ministrations of hand and wand.

Monique shifted the wand's attack to Roselie's pussy, turning moans into squeals. It was obvious that Roselie was rapidly approaching orgasm. Monique kept shifting the wand away, and Roselie tried to follow it with her venus mound, first shuffling after Monique's retreated hand, then by arching herself toward the toy when the tether at her feet prevented further foot movement.

Monique clamped the toy to the top of the suitcase's pull bar, and marking the height carefully, positioned the suitcase so that the toy was at just the right level, but just a bit beyond where Roselie could reach to keep firmly in contact with the object of her desires. The strain of holding the arch was too much for her. She would tire and have to relax, at the same time losing touch with the vibrating toy. Frustration would follow and she would try and arch into the toy again, only to fall away again, just before orgasm.

A pleased smirk on her face, Monique pulled the out other things from the case before zipping it shut. "Well, dears, enjoy. I have to go get myself ready. Roselie, I expect you to climax twice while I am gone. Do be careful, though, there is nothing very heavy in the case now that the power supply is on the floor and you know what that means, rosie bottom. See you in a half hour or so, dears." She sauntered out leaving a very frustrated Roselie working furiously to keep her pussy on that vibrator. A keening, panting wail announced her completion of half her orders.

Roselie drooped in her bonds for a moment, trying to regain composure and strength. "Damn her, she knows how hard it is to do it the second time without a rest." Determinedly, she pulled herself back up and tried to reach the toy with her vulva again. Slowly, she succeeded. I watched, fascinated and aroused at the tension and power of her lithe little body as she began anew her climb towards orgasm.

But it was too much, too soon, with too little rest. She could not hold the pose necessary for the stimulation she needed to climax. She started bouncing her hips, trying to keep some contact, only to overturn the suitcase. Without any heavy objects inside to make it stable, it was knocked down by Roselie's exhausted, jerking thrusts. "Damn!!" Fury and frustration colored her tone as she fell back limply, her weight carried by her wrists now.

"I thought I told you never to swear in my presence, rosie bottom?" Monique was back. She looked like a woman ready to go workout in a two piece outfit, ponytail and headband. Except that both the bra and thigh length tight shorts were bright red satin. "And you knocked over the suitcase, too." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Well, did you cum twice like I told you to?"

Roselie hung her head and said no. "Well, that was very naughty, wasn't it Nathan. Here, I am, letting her show off for you, proving how easily she cums so you might want to play with her, and she doesn't do it. She even knocked over my lovely suitcase." Monique righted the suitcase and turned off the still buzzing vibrator. "Well, Roselie, if you won't cum when I tell you to, I guess we will just have to not let you from now on." Monique left to return almost immediately with a tray that held a large steaming bowl and some other implements and jars.

Unfastening the chain to the spreader bar, Monique turned the disheveled Roselie to face me. She picked up a washcloth, and after dipping it into the large bowl, pressed the steaming cloth to Roselie's pubis. After holding it there for a couple of minutes, Monique proceeded to shave Roselie clean of pubic hair with shaving lather and straight razor. I noticed how still Roselie stood for this. She may love and trust Monique, but the firm grip of her teeth on her lower lip told me how even that trust left room for worry sometimes.

Roselie, without hair, was incredible. She looked so delicate, so incredibly feminine. I wondered what it would be like to tongue, kiss and lick a hairless vulva. Unconsciously, I licked my lips. "Yes, she does look tasty like that, doesn't she?" Monique said lightly. "Too bad she was naughty because now neither of us will get a taste until she proves she is going to be a good girl."

Monique picked up a "V" shaped item that looked like it was made out of a slightly harder, thicker version of the rubber that hot water bottles are made of. It had a mesh belt along the top of the "V", and two thinner straps dangling from the point of the "V". The "V" was solid, and seemed to form a cup, like an athletic protector, only it was soft and flexible instead of rigid and hard. Monique fitted the belt around Roselie's hips and buckled it, but left some slack in the belt, then drew the other straps up between the little blond's legs. Roselie's eyes went momentarily wide when Monique jerked upward on each of those straps to seat them deep between the globes of her ass. She then pulled them around front to buckle to the belt above the extreme points of the top of the "V" cup.

Monique picked up a squeeze bottle with a long thin spout and put the nozzle between the top of the "V" and Roselie's skin. She pressed on the bottle, shooting its contents into the void formed by the cup and Roselie. Turning to me as she continued, Monique smiled wickedly. "This is a little invention of mine, Nathan. With her little pussy hairs gone, and this little cup filled with warm, body temperature lubricant, rosiebottom can't get any stimulation on that naughty little pussy of hers. She might feel something, but most of the sensation will be blunted by the liquefying jelly, and of course, she can't get any direct contact with that hot little clit of hers as long as she has my personal pussy deprivation device locked on." The jelly started oozing out the sides and bottom. Monique put the bottle down and then stepped behind Roselie to adjust the straps. She tightened the waist belt, then pulled hard on the crotch straps, gaining a little squeal of surprise from Roselie. Monique used the wash cloth to wipe away the excess lubricant, before leaning over to kiss the now glassy eyed Roselie.

"Turn around, rosie bottom, and show Nate what else my little toy does for you." Roselie blushed from toe to the roots of her fine blond hairs, but shuffled around as quickly as her spread, high heeled feet would let her.

The crotch straps ran through rings suspended from the belt before winding around to the front buckles. The placement of the rings and tightness of the straps pulled the cheeks of Roselie's fanny apart, separating them to show the darker pink of her clenched anus. A delicate finger slipped down to run from the edge of the harness slowly up the crack to tickle the winking little hole. Roselie shuddered, shaking her tush at the teasing. "Her little pussy will have a very hard time cumming, Nate, but we would not want her to be too deprived, and she does have such a sensitive little ass hole."

Another, smaller silver bullet appeared in Monique's hand. It also had a wire trailing from the blunt end of the butt plug that ended in Monique's pocket. With a deft twist of Monique's wrist, the toy disappeared up Roselie's ass with surprising ease, her anus closing behind it around the trailing wire.

Monique hooked the wire up to the power pack, and sauntered over to me. A gleeful smirk on her face, she unzipped my jeans and pulled out my rampant prick. She gave it a kiss and then settled herself into my lap, sideways, with my penis trapped between her thighs. A squirm or two to get her self settled made me groan as the hot tight grip almost made me lose control. She turned to face me, grinned and kissed me hard on the mouth. "Don't cum, dear. Not until I tell you to, or you might end up taking rosiebottom's place as guest of honor." She squirmed again and my eyes crossed trying to keep control.

Evidently satisfied that she had me right where she wanted me, Monique withdrew a small device that looked like a television remote, and flicked a button or two. Lights changed color on the power pack and Roselie went rigid. Monique did something else and Roselie squealed and started dancing as much as her bondage would permit. Helplessly, her hips arched, pantomiming the sex act, but meeting only empty air with her thrusts. Another adjustment by Monique and the movements became even more frantic.

Happy for the moment, she put the controller back in her pocket and rested her head on my shoulder to watch Roselie's belly dance. "The vibrator is very strong and she is feeling the vibrations in her G-spot, but they are not quite strong enough to get her over the peak. Naturally, her body wants to orgasm, and natural, uncontrollable reactions are taking over, trying to get the stimulation needed to cum. Only problem is, with that cup on filled with my lovely lubricant, there is no stimulation to be had, so she tries harder and eventually harder. She knows, intellectually, that she can't cum that way, but her mind is no longer in control."

We watched the incredibly erotic dance for a few more moments until Monique pulled out the controller again and stopped the vibrator. "Poor rosie bottom. You want to cum so bad and you just aren't getting enough stimulation." Monique's exaggerated and completely insincere concern made Roselie watch her even more warily. She stood up, gave my penis a light swat that sent it bouncing and strutted over to Roselie.

She stepped quickly behind her victim to hide what came next. Monique quickly reached around Roselie to jerk down the filmy bra and attach two spring clip nipple clamps to Roselie's lovely breasts. These too had wires trailing from them that ended up attached to the power supply. Monique returned to me and resettled herself in my lap. I don't know how I did not cum that time.

Once again the controller clicked and Roselie's mad dance resumed. This time, she shook her torso as well, like an old time burlesque queen showing off her breasts to the paying customers. "Vibrating tittie clamps." Monique whispered in my ear, "With very low current shocks thrown in for good measure. This might be enough for her to cum, we will have to wait and see."

And we did. Monique kept up a barrage of pseudo encouragement that I doubt Roselie could even hear. After what was probably only ten or fifteen minutes, but which seemed like an hour for me (God alone knows how long it felt for Rosie), Roselie started to slow in spite of herself. She simply could not keep up that pace for any longer.

Monique turned off the devices and let Roselie recover herself a bit. When Roselie's panting was more under control, Monique spoke. "Do you want to cum, dear?"

"Oh, please, Mistress, it is awful, please, please let me cum."

"Very well, then, since you asked so nicely. You may cum." She looked at me. "You may cum if you can get Nathan to give you his cum."

Roselie's head snapped up. "How??"

Monique walked over to me and undid the fur lined cuffs that held me to the chair. "Why, any way you can get it, dear. All you have to do is convince him."

"I can have him? You will let me have him? You will let him make love to me?"

"All you have to do is convince him, dear, and he is yours for the day."

Roselie turned her considerable sexuality on me and begged me to let her cum. "Please love me, Nathan. I need to cum so bad and she won't let me cum if you don't. You can spank me while you fuck me. Get back at me for all that teasing earlier." She arched and posed, trying to remind me of her little game while I was helpless. She smiled at me hungrily, watching me with half-lidded eyes smokey with need and promise.

She was the living embodiment of pure sex and I was sorely tempted for both her and for myself. I looked down at my hardon, still waving in the breeze after Monique had released it. If anything, I was even harder, unbelievable as that seemed. I looked at Roselie who was pleading with me, watching me as if I was God's gift to women.

Then I looked at Monique. She was standing off to one side, out of my path to Roselie, where she could watch us both, where she could see both of our faces. I looked back at Roselie, then back to Monique and I shook my head. "I can't do it, Rosie. I am sorry, but I just can't. I belong to Monique."

"But she said you could!" She squealed in frustration and outrage. "She said I could have you. Nathan, I need to cum so bad and she won't let me until I have had your cum."

I did not know where this was going, but I had made my decision. "I am sorry, Rosie, but what she has of me is my gift to her. I am hers to keep, but not hers to give." I started to leave, sure that I had failed a test when suddenly, I was being strangled, kissed and hugged, all at one time. Monique hit me like a train, knocking back down into the seat I had just started to vacate. "Oh, you beautiful, loving man! God, but I love and I am never going to let you go."

Still dazed from her attack, I suddenly went rigid as a hot, wet vacuum engulfed my painfully hard cock. Monique was on her knees, with her arms wrapped around me hugging me fiercely, sucking me with wild abandon. I was so turned on, I came almost before I realized what she was doing, and shot bolt after bolt of hot semen into her mouth.

She stood, leaving me limp and bewildered on the chair and strode over to Roselie. She embraced her bound submissive and then ravaged her mouth with a deep kiss that probably touched Rosie's tonsils. Monique stepped back. "Now, you can cum."

I looked to see Rosie licking her lips sensuously and realized that Monique had shared my semen with her friend, thus fulfilling herself the prerequisite she had imposed. I felt myself getting hard again, just at the thought. Meanwhile, Monique had pulled out a small syringe and had squirted the contents into the sensory deprivation device on Rosie's vulva. Rosie groaned, obviously knowing what was to come next. Monique pulled out the controller again, and the mad ballet resumed.

Monique approached me again, pulling on hidden zippers on her satin outfit as she did. Before she reached me, the satiny two piece fluttered to the floor as four pieces. Nude, she sat on my lap again, this time straddling my legs with hers, facing me. She kissed me deeply while her hands did strange and wondrous things to my rapidly reawakening erection. A squeal of triumph broke my concentration for a moment and I looked to see Roselie in the thrall of an obvious orgasm. That earned me a light slap from Monique. "Don't mind her, she will be busy cumming for a while."

"But, how?" I was confused. What had changed since when Roselie had not been able to cum?

"Hot pepper oil shot into the lubricant. Her shaking mixes it thoroughly into the lubricant and she gets all the stimulation she can handle. Now shut up and kiss me." I shut up. There are better things to do with mouths than talk.

Chapter 30: Aftermath

Later, after we had taken down a thoroughly exhausted Roselie, bathed her and helped her into bed, Monique and I sat in that same den have a lunch of sandwiches and coffee. Monique was dressed much as I was now, in a teeshirt and jeans, but we were still cuddled very close.

"So, what did you think, Nate?"

I considered. "It was very sexy. Obviously, I found it quite exciting. I mean, forty year old men do not often get it up three times in three hours."

She playfully swatted my arm. "You know what I meant. What did you think of the scene, besides the sex. Did you see anything we could build on?"

Her tone was so hopeful, I did not want to hurt her, but I had promised to be honest with her about this. "Well, that is a hard one, love, because nothing I saw here today resembles anything I have seen before."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Wait a minute, Nathan Evans, You have been with me, playing the sub for almost five months now, so what do you mean you have not seen this?"

"Well, I haven't, dear. You have never been this way with me, except in the office where we can't do much anyway. When you get down to business with me, here in your house for example, what you do to me bears no resemblance to what you did today with Roselie. Even allowing for the difference in gender and ... ummmm... capacity, you are not playful like that with me."

Her eyes became hard and she seemed to move away from me, seemed to be seeking space. "Explain that!" The order was snapped out.

"Our scenes are not like this. Your teasing is darker, more challenging, sometimes more, I don't know the right word. Insulting is wrong, humiliating is closer. I just know that it is not like what is between you and Roselie. You almost always do some type of corporal game with me now. I thought it was because I was in some type of initial training period - sort of like a submissive "Plebe Year"."

She relaxed again, her face growing pensive, but she did not move back towards me. "So you are saying that I am harsher with you than what you saw today, that I am stricter and more demanding?"

"Those are your words, but yes, I think they fit. As I said, this was much lighter in tone than anything I had done with you. Is this typical of your scenes with Roselie, or was this one gentler?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, this one was pretty typical, Nate. Oh, we do more corporal in some scenes than others, but Rosie loves getting spanked. That is why she tried to tempt you with it earlier. In fact, if I had not been ... involved with you, I would have been paddling her while she was cumming earlier. Darker, you say..." Her voice trailed off.

We sat in uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Even when we made love that night in her bed, it was uncomfortable.

Chapter 31: Scene of the Crime.

It was two weeks after the Saturday scene with Roselie. Actually, it had not been a total failure. The loving had been wonderful and I had seen that D&S could be fun. Monique and I had discussed it further during the intervening days. She had tried to put what I said in perspective and see what she was doing differently with me than with Roselie. I tried to find something positive in each scene to build on. It was working and it was not working. Monique felt she was overanalyzing everything she did or planned to do during a scene and was losing the joy she derived from spontaneity. I, on the other hand, was tending to lose track of what else was going on when I found something to grab onto.

I was at Monique's home, my hands cuffed behind my back for the "Evening following the Wednesday at Work" panty scene. She had disapproved of my offering this day, a very special pair that I had been sure she would love. These were velvety, dark purple french cut panties. As a twist on her game, instead of leaving me undie-less when she had destroyed both pairs of panties, she had locked me into a male chastity belt, complete with a small, but very annoying ass plug. I spent the day unable to use the men's room as the chastity pulled my cock back between my legs. Monique said she would let me relieve myself into a plastic Seven-Up bottle in her office if my need got too great. Needless to say, I spent the day avoiding liquids and Monique's Seven-Up bottle.

Prior training sessions had introduced me to butt plugs, but his is the first time I had ever had to wear one for such a long period. The panty check had happened at 8:30 AM and I had been locked in the infernal device with the equally infernal plug locked in me ever since. Well, that is not quite true. Monique had changed the plug twice during the day, each time with one slightly larger than the previous.

It did not take much imagination to figure out what the evening would hold. Natalia got her anal virginity taken by Mistress Monique's dildo. The increasingly larger plugs had stretched me out to the point where I could accommodate the fake phallus with only a modicum of discomfort ("A girl should feel some pain her first time, dear"). The chastity doubled as a gaff and kept Natalia's front smooth and feminine. It also made it impossible to get an erection during the pillaging of my ass by her dildo, even though the irritation of my prostrate made me need to cum.

After she had cum twice (evidently the dildo worked both ways), she gently pulled out of me. She did not remove the cuffs or the chastity, but instead, walked around to face me. She was beautifully and totally nude. "I bet you'd like to be turned loose?"

"Yes, Mistress, I would, very much." What was she up to?

"Yes, well, there is just one small problem. You see, dear, there are only two keys to that harness you are wearing. One is at work." I waited for the punch line. "And I have hidden the other. All I will say is that it is somewhere on or in my person. You have to find it to get free. Either that, or wait until I get to work tomorrow."

I was aghast. "But, that can't be safe or sanitary. Mistress, I have not gone to the bathroom since this morning."

She smiled that wicked smile "Piffle, dear. I won't plug you again, and you can pee in the shower so that the water will rinse you. After all, it is only until tomorrow, unless you find it.. tonight?"

I turned my back to have my hands freed and got my bottom swatted. "uh uh, Natalia. Either you find the key and are freed or you wear the harness all night. If I take those cuffs off, the scene is over. You choose, dear."

Obviously, I had no choice. I started searching, using the most sensitive tool I had left to me - my tongue. She teased me with some false finds. I found a hollow tube hidden in her hair, a blank key under some stage makeup base under her left breast, another was between two of her toes. Yet another was in a small sealed plug hidden in her pussy. She came twice while I "looked" there.

However, that false lead, combined with the apparent theme of the evening gave me the critical clue. Obligingly, she rolled onto her tummy when I asked. Cautiously, I sniffed at her lovely ass - just clean, sexy woman. Gently, I burrowed between her tight, rubbery cheeks to dig my tongue into her dark depths. Surprisingly, it was not unpleasant. My tongue touched something hard and a bit sharp extruding from the little grommet like hole. Carefully, I probed around it with my tongue, much to Monique's pleasure if her sighs were any indication, to figure out how to get it out.

Finally, I rolled my tongue and dug into her ass with it and was able to get my teeth onto the little extrusion. Slowly, so as to ensure I did not hurt Monique, I withdrew my prize. I need not have worried. She orgasmed again as the clear tube holding the key popped free.

When Monique recovered, she released me and I went to change and take care of ... other requirements. I put Natalia away until next time and came out to find Monique in lounging pajamas, ready for bed. She gave me a glass of wine and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Well?"

I knew what she meant. "It was okay. I won't say I enjoyed the chastity, because I didn't, but I understand the purpose of it, now."

"And the anal games, both giving and receiving?"

I considered. "Next time, let me orgasm and it will be fine. It was rather sexy actually, and the oral worship of your pretty ass was much nicer than I had imagined it would be."

If she was hoping for a more enthusiastic response, she did not show it. "I am glad it was a good experience. Hopefully, we can build on it." She sipped her wine and looked at me strangely.

"Ummm, Nate?" Her tone was almost sheepish. The dominatrix of an hour earlier no where in evidence. I eyed her with curiosity.

I cocked an eyebrow, and she actually blushed. She took another fortifying sip of her wine and looked at the floor. "Would you be able to get me another pair of those lovely purple panties?"

I almost said 'no' in response to such contrariness on her part. Almost.

Part Twelve: The San Francisco Scene.
Previous Part Ten: Failure of a Scene