Nothing Like The Sun: 14 (M/f) 2nd Try.    
Nothing Like The Sun        
             
        
    i lay there for a long time. i heard Her footsteps as She entered the
bathroom; heard Her flush the john and put the seat down. She sat down and
began to speak to me; trying to explain what She'd done. i heard without
listening.        
        
    Finally, i said my safeword.        
        
   She blinked at me in confusion. "What?" She asked.        
        
   i repeated it; sat up and looked Her in the eyes. "Get the key to this
fucking belt," i said, and then said my safeword again.        
        
   Slowly, as if in a daze, She stood up and walked out into the dungeon. She
returned a moment later and handed me the key; Her hands shaking. i'd already
removed the collar and dropped it on the floor. i stood, we were less than an
inch apart, face to face. i unlocked the belt and let it drop to the floor with
a heavy thud.        
        
   Without saying a word i turned and walked out the door, dressed, and drove
away.        
        
   It was hard to say just how i was feeling over the next two weeks. It wasn't
quite depression so much as it was an all-consuming weariness, a tremendous
sense of burnout. Ironically, the car makers loved the new add and i was
enjoying real professional success for the first time in my life.         
        
   i also took some time and mended some rifts between my friend Brad and me.
He wrote the comic my other buddy John drew and there had been some tension
brought on by ego after an issue they'd let me write drew more positive
feedback than any other in their short run. We met at a Mexican place he really
liked and i showed him some sketches for an idea of my own.        
        
   i started going back to my old gym, my membership was still good for months.
Whatever memories of the show Mistress had put on there had dimmed to the point
where they mostly remembered Her, if they remembered any of it at all. i even
got a few curious and admiring glances from some of the young ladies, though at
that point that was the LAST thing on my mind.        
        
    Friday night Lindsey asked me out for dinner with her and Mandy and we ate
at another Chinese restaurant on the east side of town. There was apparently
some tension between them, which only seemed to be worsened by the way Lindsey
carried on, doting on me. Mandy, on the other hand, refused to even look at me.
i began to suspect that some of what Mistress had done had leaked out.        
        
   When Lindsey excused herself to go to the bathroom, i took the opportunity
to confront Mandy.        
        
   "I don't know what you're thinking, but Lindsey and I are just friends, you
know."        
        
   She sighed. "Look, I know that. It's just..." She trailed off.        
        
   "No, what? It's just what?"        
        
   She looked at me for the first time that evening. "It's just that I'm in a
really fucking awkward position, okay? It's not that I agree with what
Doctor.... with what Catherine did to you - I think it was pretty shitty! - but
Lindsey wants me to... I don't know! Bust her in the nose or quit my job in
protest or something!        
        
   "And it's not just that I need my job, I LIKE my job, y'know? And it's
pissing me off to have to keep arguing it with her over and over."        
        
   "I'm sorry."        
        
   She sighed and shook her head. A second later Lindsey rejoined us.        
        
   "Uh... Lindsey?" i began.        
        
   "Yes Michael?" she replied, still forcing herself to sound cheery.        
        
   "Look, your friendship means a lot to me..." Lindsey narrowed her eyes and
gave Mandy a sudden, sharp look. "And it feels good to know somebody cares, you
know? But I'm not a little kid and you're not my big sister. Heck, you're what?
Five years younger than me?"        
        
   She shrugged.        
        
    "My point is that I made my own decisions, and it's not worth fucking up
what you have to get upset about how things turned out, okay?"        
        
   She looked down at her food. i looked at Mandy and gave her a slight nod.
She took Linsdey's hand.        
        
   "Okay?" i asked again.        
        
   "Okay," she said softly.        
        
* * * *        
        
    To Her credit, Mistress didn't come begging for forgiveness either. In the
two weeks after i'd left Her dungeon, She left exactly one message on my
answering machine and two sent me two E-mails. The tone for all three was
identical: cool and conciliatory, but not weepy or especially apologetic.      
  
        
    The Friday following my dinner with Lindsey and Mandy, i was feeling tired
and alone. One of the two E-mails had come that day, and in a moment of
weakness, i wrote back.        
        
    Meet me at the juice bar at the club tomorrow afternoon at six, i wrote,
Neutral ground.        
        
   i spent the rest of the evening watching TV and reading; not doing a
particularly good job with either. Before going to bed, i checked my mail.
There was a message from Her.        
        
   Okay, it read.        
        
* * * *        
        
Saturday        
        
   i was uncertain as to my motives or emotions as i parked at the club. What
She had done to me, especially after the incident with the Rohypnol and the
tenderness that had followed, seemed excessively cruel; but then again, what
the fuck had i the right to expect? Hay rides and long walks along the beach?  
     
        
   She was already there and had a table in a far corner of the room. i noticed
She was wearing Her workout clothes and for an instant our eyes met. I was
wearing one of my new pairs of jeans and a T-shirt.        
        
   Instead of going right to Her, however, i went to the counter instead and
bought a bottle of water. She seemed disappointed about something as i sat down
opposite Her.        
        
   "So..." She said.        
        
   "So?" i replied.        
        
   "If you're expecting an apology..."        
        
   "Frankly Catherine, I don't know what I'm expecting." She looked up,
surprised that i had referred to Her in so casual a way.        
        
   "I do know that I'm very hurt and angry by what you did," i continued. "I
think I've borne up to the punishments you've dished out pretty well, and I
think I could handle more, but ONLY if you were honest with me! I NEED to be
able to trust you in there, and what you've been doing lately.... it's been
like lying in a way, cheating. It's totally eroded whatever trust we'd built up
between us."        
        
   i took a deep breath. "And if I can't trust you, then there's no point in us
going on, is there?"        
        
   It was Her turn to sigh. "I guess you've already made that decision, haven't
you?" She asked morosely.        
        
   i hadn't thought i'd made any decision of the kind, but as i was staring at
Her, bewildered, i noticed the gym bag next to Her feet. Specifically, i
noticed the handle of the racquet poking out of it.        
        
   "Oh for Chissakes! You've GOT to be kidding!" i exploded.        
        
   She nodded sadly, picked up Her bag, and began to leave. As She walked past
me, i found my hand shooting out, almost of it's own volition, and grabbing Her
arm. She looked down at me, Her eyes teary, yet curious.        
        
   i sighed. "Give me fifteen minutes to get my stuff," i said wearily.        
        
* * * *         
        
   i drove back to my apartment as quickly as traffic would allow, grabbed up
my gym clothes in a hurry, and dashed back to the club. i rushed through
changing in the locker room, half afraid She wouldn't be there when i got done,
but She was.        
        
   She'd gotten a court already and had been hitting the ball around. On the
bench outside, a pair of resident Romeo's sat and watched with mute resentment.
When they saw me heading to the door, one of them said, "Lots 'a luck, stud!"
and the other one laughed. i went inside.        
        
   She was in the middle of a volley and i suddenly reached over and caught the
ball mid-flight. She turned and gave me Her full attention.        
        
   "First of all," i began, "no more drugs. Not ever."        
        
   "Are you dictating terms to me now, is that it, michael?"        
        
   "I'm telling you what I will and WON'T do, even for you. If you don't like
it..." i pointed my racquet at the door. She stood Her ground.        
        
   "Secondly, no more lies or head games or anything like that. If you want to
do something, tell me."        
        
   She nodded Her head halfheartedly. "Anything else?"        
        
   "Yes. No more belt."        
        
   "Now wait a minute..."        
        
   "If you want me to abstain from masturbating, fine. I'll do what I can. If I
slip up, I'll tell you and we can go from there, but I'm NOT letting you lock
that fucking thing on me again! If I serve you, it will be because I CHOOSE to
serve you, not because you MAKE me, understand?" She nodded reluctantly.       
  
        
   "One more thing. After tonight THIS shit," i spread my arms to indicate the
court, "ends as well. I like playing, and if you want to continue, great. But
after tonight, we play for pride only! Like I said, if there's something you
want to do, some way you want to push my limits, we'll talk about it."        
        
   "Why not start tonight?" She muttered glumly.        
        
   i had to think about that. "I don't know, exactly... except... except I
THINK I'm sensing something from You. Like, You want one last chance to prove
you can be trusted, something like that?"        
        
   There was amazement in Her eyes. Dreamily, She nodded. "Yes..."        
        
   i sighed. "Okay, then." i took up my position and She took Hers , and then i
tossed up the opening serve.        
        
   We ripped into each other. Lions and antelopes battling for survival went at
it with less fervor than we did that night. All the pain and lingering
resentment tore wide open on that court. Rally after rally would go by with
only the change of service to mark any progress. The score crept along with a
placidity that belied the fury with which it was generated.        
        
   She won the first game, 15 / 13.            
        
   In the second game, She went for the quick kill, which spent what reserves
She had left early. i got the serve back at 7 / 1 and began to steadily make up
ground until i'd surpassed Her and had begun to make a grab for my own victory.
She got the serve back for a two-point run, but the rest was all me.          
        
   i won the second game 15 / 9.        
        
   In the tie breaker, it became clear that my body had finally acclimated
itself to the game of racquetball. In addition, the past three months at the
gym had combined to give me for more stamina than She. i would later learn that
She'd just come from a full Saturday afternoon at work, so it was really no
surprise when i began to pull away.        
        
   i won the tie breaker, 11 / 4.        
        
   We stood there for a moment, allowing what had happened to sink in. i don't
think either one of us had really been thinking about what a victory for me
would mean exactly; and i wasn't sure, as tired as i was, that i was really in
much of a mood for anything at that point.        
        
   "Double or nothing," She said.        
        
   "What?"        
        
   "I want to play again!" She said between gasping for breath. " Double or
nothing!"        
        
   i just stared at Her in naked astonishment.        
        
   "You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!" She couldn't spare the oxygen to
respond, so She shook Her head "No!"        
        
   "What the hell does that MEAN, anyway? If you don't want to make good on the
bargain, just say..."        
        
   "No! Double or nothing!"        
        
   "Then what's the point? What the hell do you mean by 'nothing'?"        
        
   She had to really gather up Her energy to speak. "I mean... if you win we go
home and go upstairs and we... we do what you've really wanted out of this all
along! If I win, I mean we go DOWN stairs and go back to the way things
were.... I don't do anything special, just the way things were before."        
        
   i had to really think about that. She looked in far worse shape than i did,
but She had that stubborn look to Her eyes again and this time there'd be no
backing off until She got what She wanted.         
        
   "No," i said. She looked crestfallen. "ALL or nothing!"        
        
   She gaped at me in utter confusion. "How do you mean, michael?"        
        
   "If you win, fine. We go back to the way things were like you said. If I
win, we ALSO go downstairs. And for, say, a day... twenty four hours... you
will be MY slave! To torment or fuck or do whatever I want to do!"        
        
   She blanched at the thought. Frankly, it was a bluff on my part. Mostly i
just wanted Her to back down and let us take a step back and think things
through. A part of it also was that i didn't want to get through another game,
win, and have Her try and raise the stakes yet again. It was all or nothing.   
    
        
   i was so certain of how She'd respond that i'd even turned and headed for
the door. There was no knob on our side; you had to fish out a little metal
ring from a groove.         
        
   i had that ring in my hand when i heard Her say, in a very small, faraway
voice, "okay."         
        
   i turned and looked at Her in utter amazement. Still, i recovered quickly
enough to toss Her the ball and take up my position. She gazed at the little
blue shpere in Her hand.        
        
   "Loser gets first serve," i reminded Her.        
        
*  *  *  *         
        
   Sitting on the stoop created by the sunken living room, i teased the cat
with an odd bit of string i'd found in my pocket. i checked my watch for the
fifth or sixth time; and just when i was about to give up, the doorbell rang.  
     
        
   i answered it and smiled at the Chinese kid who looked at me with obvious
surprise and suspicion.        
        
   "S'okay," i said, "Dr. K-... Hong Mao, is in the little girl's room. I got
it."        
        
   The kid reluctantly handed me the large paper bag and then deferred when i
tried to pay.        
        
   "Free delivery, too?" i asked and he nodded. Even so, i slipped him a ten
dollar tip which seemed to evaporate the vast majority of his concerns. He
wished me a good night and i asked him to send Hong Mao's warmest regards to
Lin.        
        
   As i started towards the door to the downstairs with the bag of dinner in my
hand, the cat began to rub against my leg persistently and "meow" quite loudly.
       
        
   "What's the matter... you?" It occurred to me that i didn't even know her
name. "You hungry?"         
        
  "R'ow!"        
        
   i altered my course and led the little fuzzball into the kitchen, setting my
own dinner on the counter.        
        
   "Okay, now," i said, rummaging through the cabinets, "where's your mommy
keep your food, huh?" The cat jumped up on the counter, but didn't provide any
useful answers.        
        
   i had to go through several cabinets before finally locating a stack of
little tin cans.        
        
   "Mmmmm," i said, doing my best imitation of Homer Simpson, "Fancy Feast!"   
    
        
   i opened the can. Not finding any specific bowl for the cat, i retrieved a
small plate from the cupboard, and shoveled the food out with a fork. The lump
of goop didn't look particularly fancy, nor did there seem enough to constitute
a feast. i decided to stick with my own food; and gave the cat a friendly
scratch on the head before heading back downstairs.          
        
   She was waiting right where i'd left Her - as if She'd had any other choice:
She was hanging by the same bar She'd cuffed me to several times before.       

        
   i'd dressed Her in a black leather waist-cincher that came just up to Her
breasts and dropped down low enough to hang garters on. Clipped to those was a
pair of milk-white stockings, and i'd put six inch heels on Her feet. As She
could barely get Her toes to touch the ground, the spikes themselves were
largely inconsequential.        
        
   And of course, completing the image was a lovely red ball gag wedged deep
into Her mouth.        
        
   Her eyes, still defiant and proud, went right to the large, grease-stained
bag in my hands. i hadn't seen fit to tell Her just why i'd gone upstairs. Now
i sat down in front of Her, just a little beyond kicking distance, and opened
the bag. She grunted angrily as the first hints of smell touched Her nostrils. 
      
        
   i removed all the little cardboard cartons and arrayed them around me like a
little wall, opening each one wide open so that the scents of the food within
could reach Her better.        
        
   i'd ordered enough food for three people, but i started with the General
Tso's, Her favorite; picking several large chunks of chicken out and dropping
them playfully into my mouth. i ate with my mouth open, making noisy "naum!
naum! naum!" noises as i chewed.        
        
   On an impulse, i dipped a finger into the golden sauce and pulled myself off
the floor. i walked to Her and smeared a little "mustache" onto Her upper lip. 
      
        
   "How's that, kitten?" i asked mockingly. i'd been calling her "kitten" since
we first got back from the club.        
        
   Behind Her gag She mumbled something, and to my surprise i realized She had
been right earlier: i COULD almost understand what She was saying.        
        
   i arched my eyebrows menacingly. "Oh, I'll pay for this, will I?" i asked.
Her eyes went wide with terror, telling me i'd been dead on.        
        
   "Well," i said, dropping my voice to a malevolent whisper, "you're probably
right about that. I don't doubt that sometime soon you'll have me all trussed
up and helpless- just like you are now - and then I WILL pay. And You WILL make
me suffer. I can picture you making me endure tenfold for every indignity,
every torment or petty humiliation, every twitch of discomfort or millisecond
of real pain." i looked deep into Her frightened eyes. "Won't you?"        
        
    She released a sudden, explosive gush of piss.        
        
   i yelped in surprise and amusement and leapt backwards. i quickly rushed to
the bathroom and brought back a few towels, but instead of mopping up, i just
built a small dam around Her feet so that She had to stand in the thin puddle
of Her urine.        
        
   i sat back down by the food and watched Her twitch and spasm as i finished
my meal.        
        
   When i'd stuffed myself, i wiped my face with the back of my hand, stood up,
and began to inspect the various pegboards for a proper instrument with which
to whip Her. i couldn't find any i liked. Even using her favorite paddle on Her
somehow left me cold. It bothered me that i had to rely on HER dungeon, HER
restraints and HER whips. i hardly felt like i was in control at all.        
        
   i had a habit of hooking my thumbs into the loops of my jeans as i thought,
and the act of doing that gave me a sudden burst of inspiration.        
        
   Turning to face Her, i undid the buckle of my belt and slid it slowly from
my pants. She looked on with mounting fear as i bent the leather double and
pulled it taut, though i did it poorly and the snapping sound was less than
impressive.        
        
   Even so, She was making some genuine noise within Her gag as i moved behind
Her and took up a position over Her ass.        
        
   She didn't make a sound as i brought the belt down over Her pale, firm
cheeks. The welt seemed like a splash of blood against snow.  i hit Her again,
harder. This time She grunted in pain so i kept the blows at that strength,
raining three or four more before circling around to check on Her.        
        
   She was crying, but when She saw me, Her dark eyes turned to steel. i
shrugged and smacked the inside of Her thigh. She screamed.        
        
   i beat Her without mercy, striping Her body with broad, red marks. i worked
Her thighs, front and back, Her ass, and Her breasts. i whipped Her until She
stopped making sound and just hung from Her fetters like a sack of meal.       

        
   When i was certain all resistance had been beaten out of Her, i undid the
cuffs on Her wrists. She dropped like a stone, ass-first into what was left of
Her "accident" and then toppled over onto Her side. i then quickly straddled
Her like a police officer, pinning Her hands behind Her back while She was
still out of it, and cuffing them together. Then i scooped Her limp body into
my arms and carried Her into the bathroom; dropping Her unceremoniously, but
carefully, into the tub.        
        
   i peeled off much of Her outfit. The shoes i put on top of the toilet tank;
the piss-soaked stockings got dumped in the sink. The leather ensemble was
merely tossed onto the floor.        
        
   With Her gag and cuffs still on, i tracked down the little wastepaper
baskets She'd used on me and took them upstairs, filled them with steaming
water from the kitchen sink, and then hauled them back down again to give Her a
rough "shower." She cried and sputtered and kicked furiously, but i wouldn't
stop.        
        
   After dousing Her enough times to be certain She was "clean," i picked Her
up again and took Her to the den. This time She was really struggling with me. 
      
        
   i'd already pulled out the bed, and upon entering the room, i flung Her onto
the mattress. She lay on Her stomach, facing the foot of the bed.        
        
   i stripped down to my underwear and crawled into bed. i got one arm around
Her waist and, pulling and kicking, wrestled us into a sitting position: She on
my lap.        
        
   i undid the buckle of the gag and pulled it free, loosing an impressive
quantity of saliva with it. i gave Her a moment to work out the cramps in her
jaw muscles. Then She looked into my eyes, anxious, yet curious.        
        
   i knew what She was expecting. Instead, i said, "Tell me about Alex."       

        
   Her eyes went wide with shock. Trembling, She said, "No!"        
        
  "OKAY!" i bellowed, shoving Her forcefully off my lap and back onto the
mattress.        
        
   i crawled on top of Her back, forcing Her legs apart.        
        
   "We can talk or we can fuck! Your call, bitch!"         
        
   It was for the best that She lay face down, because if She could have seen
me at that moment, seen what was going on inside my jockey's - or rather, what
WASN'T - She'd have realized what a bluff it was.        
        
   Actually, i was TRYING to will myself into hardening, but it wasn't
happening. She began to cry softly. i crawled off Her and dropped onto my side,
next to Her.        
        
   "Jesus!" i muttered forlornly. "I don't... I don't fucking believe you!
You'd rather that I rape you than reveal any part of yourself to me!" i shook
my head sadly and rolled off the bed.        
        
   i walked over to the pile of my clothes, and as i pulled my jeans up She
suddenly turned to face me and cried, "WAIT!"        
        
   i stopped, looking at Her intently. Slowly, haltingly, She began to speak.  
     
        
* * * *        
        
   She'd met him at a munch... a party of sorts. She described, in painstaking
detail, his body, his face, his cock. He was simply the most beautiful man
She'd ever seen. She ended up "stealing" him away from another Domme; and right
from their first night together he'd shared Her bed. She'd never done that with
any other slave, before or since. She had other slaves too, at that time - a
lot; Her stable, she called it.        
        
   She ended up with so many that She made them rent a house, rather than try
and cram them all into Hers. There was a lot of tension between them all, and
She relished it, encouraged it.        
        
   She made up all kinds of "rules" and encouraged Her slaves to spy on one
another and rat each other out. Informants got "rewards," which often included
being the instrument of punishment for the offender. They all competed for Her
attention; the lines of conflict being as palpable and strong as the chains and
rope. And She sat back like a big, greedy spider at the center and luxuriated
in it. But it was clear to all that Alex was Her favorite, and any who informed
on him was a likely to BE punished as do the punishing.         
        
   And then one day, while She was relaxing with one of Her few female slaves,
Gina, the girl i had "raped" came charging in to Her bedroom, screaming about a
fight.        
        
   She'd rushed to the dungeon and found Alex there, beating the shit out of
some other slave. His name was Benjamin; and given Her descriptions of the two
men's respective physiques, you'd have thought that he - tall and muscled like
a professional weightlifter - would be the one trashing Alex - lithe and wiry
like a dancer.        
        
    But Benjamin's strong body harbored a very gentle soul, while Alex seemed
to burn calories with just the heat of his passion. So, it was Benjamin who was
on his knees; his whole front slathered in the blood gushing from his freshly
broken nose. She told me how the sight of so much blood, which had always
excited Her in tiny quantities, now sickened Her.        
        
   She charged in between them, shouting angrily, demanding to know what the
hell was going on even though She THOUGHT She knew.        
        
   Alex refused to answer, but Benjamin couldn't lie to his Mistress. She had
another slave in Her stable, a female switch named Laura. Laura was about to go
out on her own and become a Domme. The men had been fighting to see who would
get to go with her.         
        
    She had looked into Alex's eyes and where She had thought She'd seen love,
She found only bemused contempt.        
        
   She turned on Her heel, walked out of the dungeon, gathered up Her few
belongings in that house and left, never to return. Until two weekends ago,
She'd never spoken to ANY of Her former salves since.        
        
   She tried to put into words the sense of humiliation, betrayal and shame,
but couldn't. Instead, she began to cry, to really wail and sob. i sat back
down on the side of the bed and unlocked Her cuffs. i tried to pull Her to me,
but she fought. She shoved and pushed and sank Her nails into my skin to try
and get away, but i wouldn't let go. Finally, something seemed to give inside
Her and Her limbs went limp. i folded my arms around Her and held Her tight,
rocking Her softly as She wept; and telling Her, over and over again, that it
wasn't Her fault, and that i would never, ever, hurt Her again.        
        
    i held Her like that till long after the sun had come up, and She was my
slave no longer.