Nothing Like The Sun: 15-A (F/m) 2nd Try. * * * * Nothing Like The Sun After that night, things began to change. Most notably, i was allowed, encouraged, to spend time in the middle part of the house, away from the dungeon. Largely this was so i could clean and vacuum Her living room, take care of the cat, and prepare meals for Mistress. i didn't really know how to cook, but, as i'd proved to Mistress on several occasions, i could follow directions; and soon the kitchen counter was covered in newly-purchased cookbooks. In fact, once i'd prepared a meal two or three times i'd feel confident enough to improvise a little, and as the weeks passed my culinary skills showed dramatic improvement. The upstairs was still verboten, however, and we had yet to truly make love with one another; but all in all it was a happy period in our lives. i stayed over most nights, sleeping on the sofa sleeper in Her dungeon den; with usually just an ankle chained to the leg of the bed as a token of my enslaved status. In fact, Her den - the part of the dungeon She had once described as exclusively "Hers" - was rapidly becoming a second apartment for me, with my own residence serving as little more than a place to shower and store my things. There was some tension over that. i didn't like having to hang my clothes over the door to the wardrobe where She kept Her "Domme outfits" and She began to show signs of resenting the loss of Her inner sanctum. Yet at the same time, She grew steadily more and more unhappy each time i had to go back to my apartment for whatever reason. Lindsey was NOT happy about my going back to Mistress, and we didn't see much of her socially. Instead we mostly did things like any other young couple: movies, concerts, long walks in the park, long walks through the woods behind Her house. Spring was moving along nicely and there was a great deal of rain during those weeks, but Mistress enjoyed that. One of Her favorite things was to go to the edge of the lake in the middle of a thunderstorm and watch the skies overhead roil and flare. The invitation came in the mail a little under three weeks after the night She had been "my slave." It came in a large, bulk envelope, though the invitation proper was in a delicate little one inside. The script on the card was gothic in style and read: The Delta Of Venus Society cordially invites, Mistress Catherine K- (and any attendant submissives) to their third triennial GALA (Grand Domme, Mistress Elizabeth B- of Detroit, MI.) There was more; it was to be held a week from that Saturday, at a convention center north of where we were. The rest of the larger envelope was crammed with thick, legal-looking forms. Mistress sat on the couch in Her living room, with me at Her feet, reading the invitation over and over before curiosity finally got the better of me and i asked about it. She handed me the card without saying a word, and seeing it for myself only filled me with that many more questions. Still, i held my tongue and eventually, after we'd finished the dinner i'd prepared for Her that evening, She led me back to the living room and after gathering Her thoughts over coffee, finally began to explain. "Ummm, I don't really know where to begin," She began, "you DO know what the 'Delta of Venus' is, don't you?" "Ah, a constellation?" i asked. She laughed merrily, then took my hand and guided it to the correct answer. i blushed deeply and looked away. She sighed, but it was a bemused, contented sigh. "Okay, I guess the best way to explain would be to give you the history. See, about seven years ago this guy upstate, he built one of those theme restaurants, you know - the medieval kind? Suits of armor and faux stone walls? Torches on the walls, all that sort of tripe. "I guess the Midwest just wasn't ready for that sort of thing, or maybe he should have built it a little closer to a major city, whatever the reason, the place was failing miserably. The only steady customers he had were either the SCA types, or the goths. Of course, the irony was that while they were a pretty loyal bunch, they tended to scare away the 'straights,' you know? The 'normal,' 'decent' family crowd. "Anyway, there are a lot of us Dommes into either the gothic scene or SCA, or both, so it kind of became a hangout for those of us in the surrounding areas. Even so, the owner realized he couldn't make a go of it after about six months, so a group of us decided that it would be a pretty cool place to have all to ourselves. We were all professionals, financially well off, and we formed The Delta Of Venus Society as a consortium to buy the place and run it as our own little clubhouse. "Initially it was a Femdom exclusive sort of club, hence the name, and once we'd finalized the deal, we threw a huge bash at the place to celebrate. I mean, this was not your typical munch - if there be such an animal - we really went all out and drenched the thing in fantasy and melodrama. Really camped it up." She smiled softly at the memory. She seemed to lose Herself in the past, and after waiting for a moment, i asked, "So, why is this one being held in the convention center?" She sighed. "Well, it turned out to be more work keeping that place up than we had anticipated. The taxes alone ate us alive, so eventually we sold out too; and the new owners demolished the restaurant and put up a Day's Inn or something. "The point is that initial party really stayed in people's minds, and everyone began asking when we were going to put on something like that again, so we sort of began to develop the idea of The Gala." "Why triennial, Mistress?" She grinned at me. "Why michael, don't you know anything? It's to honor the sacred trinity: The Mother, The Daughter, and The Holy Gynous." i looked at Her blankly and She broke into laughter. "God! You really DON'T know anything, do you michael?" All i could do was shrug. She kept laughing. After She'd calmed down a little, She explained the Holy Trinity as it was more usually understood by the Catholic Church. To be fair, i HAD explained to Her several times before that my parents had more or less let me grow up without any sort of religious indoctrination; which explained my woeful ignorance on that particular point. When She had completely regained control of Herself, She explained, "Honestly, I don't really remember anymore why every three years. It IS a huge pain in the ass to put on, a hell of a drain on the Grand Domme in terms of time and money. I think we picked three because of 'Delta,' as in triangle, having three sides and all." "Um, that was something else i was meaning to ask..." i hemmed. "About the Grand Domme?" She asked. i nodded. "Okay. The Grand Domme is the woman selected right after The Gala to be the... host, if you will, for the next one. Like I said, it's an enormous undertaking, and part of it is that, in going along with the heavy fantasy involved, The Grand Domme sort of gets to be Queen for a day. Technically, ALL the slaves at The Gala 'belong' to her, and even the other Dommes are subject to her whims." "They go along with that?" "Well, the idea was that if somebody was being an asshole our just doing something to bring people down, The Grand Domme could either punish them, or they'd be shown the door. You might find it hard to believe," She said teasingly, "but there are a LOT of Dommes out there that are major divas! "And there are a lot of Dommes, too, who enjoy switching every now and then, but don't usually get to." She winked at me, but i wasn't so much thinking about what had happened between us. Rather, my mind went to Laura, the sub who'd 'turned' Domme. She held up the thick ream of forms that had accompanied the invitation, displaying them to me. i saw the words "Waiver Of Liability" written large across the top of the first page. "As you can see, we have our fair share of lawyers in the society, too!" She giggled. Her merriment died away shortly after that. She sat quietly, staring at the forms, looking a million miles away. "Do You not want to go, Mistress?" i asked. She let out a deep breath. "I don't know, michael. It... I wouldn't want you getting the idea that this is the way we behave when we usually get together..." "That's not it," i said gently, but insistently. "No," She said sadly, "you're right. I AM concerned he might show up. I... I met him at the last one, you know. When I was..." She trailed off. i didn't want to push Her, so i kept my questions to myself. Her hands began to shake. Her face scrunched up in a look of intense ferocity. i took Her hand in mine, tried to clam Her down. "Fuck him!" She spat. "God I HATE him for making me feel this way!" "That mean we're going, Mistress?" i asked, smiling gamely. She looked up at me, fiery and proud. She returned my smile and brushed away a stray lock of my hair from my face. "You bet your ass we are!" * * * * i hadn't appreciated just how used to my nakedness i'd become, until i had to be naked in front of hundreds of strangers. The Gala only lasted from Saturday afternoon through the early hours of Sunday morning; but a lot of people attending, including Mistress, booked rooms at the Hilton, which connected to the convention center by a skywalk, for the entire weekend. The convention center itself had been made using a lot of glass, and the organizers had painstakingly covered the rows upon rows of windows with black sheets. The local Fire Marshal had forbidden the use of real candles, so the place was lit up with fake, electric ones that still managed to flicker and cast everything in an eerie, hellish glow. To catalogue the variety of subs and Dommes i saw that day would be impossible. Dress was whatever you did - or often didn't - feel like. While flesh, and lots of it, was a common theme among the subs; saying that the subs were "largely in the nude" would be an injustice to the myriad of jewelry, tattoos, collars, straps and other devices one saw wherever one looked. The Dommes, despite being fewer in number, were even more diverse and outrageous. Some paraded around in little more than a pair of sandals; exuding power from their pride in their bodies. i saw a Domme at the other end of the spectrum completely covered from head to foot. She had on a nun's habit, with a veil hanging down from the wimple. Mistress and i were fairly "middle of the road." She had on a short, black leather skirt, a black silk blouse, "biker" jacket, Her worn out high tops and a pair of mirrorshades. For my part, i had my old, pink dog collar and Mistress had decked out all my piercings in new rings. The nipple rings had little jungle bells on them, so i sounded like a catnip ball when i moved, and She'd attached a leash to the thick ring set in my guiche. Actually, i'd asked if i could perhaps wear my chastity belt for the occasion, but She laughed at me and said, "Oh no michael! you had your chance at that! Besides," She purred, taking my penis in Her hand, "I intend to finally get some use out of this little thing! It'll be the perfect barometer for what turns you on and what scares the shit out of you!" The convention center was a rat's nest of passages and rooms; some were small and cozy while others stretched out like airplane hangers. Somewhere there was a giant auditorium where tractor pulls and wrestling matches were usually held. On this day it would be used for several "pony" races, a "dog show," and a few other "entertainments." We wandered from room to room. Each one had a theme. Some, like the "public restroom" involved a specific act, while others, like the "medieval room" were about more generalized fantasies. We'd go into a room, look around at what was being done to whom, and Mistress would examine my reactions carefully. i could tell She was filling up a mental notepad with an enormous "to do" list. We were passing through the "Persian room" when a voice called out Mistress' name and She turned and cried happily, "Caresse!" As Mistress spun around, She nearly yanked the ring from my lower regions. Goddess Caresse, as she preferred to be addressed, was a an attractive woman a few years older than Mistress, and a few inches taller, too. She had a mane of jet black hair and spoke with a vaguely foreign accent. For the occasion she had on a tight fitting leather dress. The two women embraced. Behind Caresse, and looking for all the word like a bizarre clone of his mistress, was her slave. If it weren't for the fact that the corselette he had on stopped just below his chest, i'd have been hard pressed to guess his gender. "Caresse," Mistress said, tugging me forward, "this is michael." Caresse inspected me thoroughly and silently. Her eyes lingered on my penis for an uncomfortably long time. "Not quiet your usual type, eh chéri?" my face turned red with embarrassment. i began to gaze at the floor. "I think I like him better," Caresse finished, causing me to look up in happy surprise. Mistress slipped an arm around me waist. "Me too!" There was an unoccupied couch or sofa or some such thing, festooned with big tasseled pillows in one corner of the room and the two Dommes moved towards it. Suddenly a pair of hands covered my eyes and a familiar feminine voice shouted "Boo!" in my ear. Before i could even say anything, Lindsey'd spun me around and thrown her arms around me, planting a friendly, very friendly, kiss on my lips. Mistress hadn't been paying attention, and the leash jerked again, causing me to yelp. Mistress turned to see what the holdup was, saw Lindsey, and the two women coolly eyed one another for a moment. Goddess Caresse looked pretty curious as to why a strange woman was hanging on Mistress' slave so boldly; but Mistress just walked back to us and gently laid the end of my lead in my hand. "We'll be just over there when you're done talking with your friend," She said. She kissed me on the cheek, but Her eyes never broke from Lindsey's gaze. "Thanks a lot," i said once Mistress was out of earshot. "Sorry," she said, sounding sincere. "I just saw you and wanted to say 'howdy.'" i took a good look at her. Actually, she was dressed a lot like Mistress usually was: black jeans and T-shirt. She had a chain connecting the ring in her nostril to one of the hoops in her ear, and her hair was... "Your hair is purple," i said. She laughed, but she blushed as well. "Yeah, well, I just... oh hell, I don't know what I was thinking!" she admitted. "I didn't even know if you'd be here," she continued. "Which brings me to my next question..." i said. "Haven't you been to the piercing room yet?" i shook my head no. "Well, Mandy and her brother are in there, y'know, giving out free piercings to subs and stuff. Actually Mike... his name is Mike, too, he's doing the all the needle work while Mandy sort of plays Mr. Wizard to the crowd and explains everything, y'know? Stuff about gauges and healing times and all that stuff." i nodded my head. "Well, I should probably let you get back to her," the temperature seemed to drop when she said "her." "I really didn't mean to get you in trouble! Please don't let that bitch..." "Lindsey..." "Sorry, Michael. Just don't let her... hurt you, because of me, please?" "i won't." She smiled. "Good." She gave me another quick, defiant kiss and then turned and bolted out of the room. i returned to Mistress. Caresse's sub got to sit on the sofa, curled up next to his Goddess; but i was ordered to kneel next to Mistress on the floor after handing Her back the leash. They talked for a while and then were joined by a third Domme, whose female salve was entered into the "dog show" later on, and seemed determined to play the part to the hilt. In fact, the "bitch" was an astonishingly beautiful young brunette, and i could not conceal my admiration for her looks, which caused Mistress to send me over on my hands and knees to "greet" the "new dog." We had to circle each other and sniff the other's ass. Hers smelled like baby powder; mine didn't, but at least it was clean. i returned to my kneeling position at Mistress' side while the new Domme sat at the far end of the sofa. She produced a small rubber ball with a little bell inside it, then tossed it to her "doggy" who yipped and pounced and played with it like the genuine article, her shapely ass waggling ecstatically the whole time. i began to get very hot watching her play; and whenever she saw me looking at her, she'd get a mirthful look in her eye, growl, take the ball in her teeth and shake it violently. i was only vaguely aware of what the Dommes were talking about. Apparently, the Grand Domme of the Gala had stirred up some controversy by inviting some male "masters" - gay and straight - to the event. As i sat there on my knees i began to feel relaxed, at ease with my surroundings. It was a good feeling and it began to lull my mind into wandering. Because of my daydreaming, i didn't notice the conversation die out suddenly. It was only when a shadow fell across me that i looked up and suddenly could feel the tension in the air.