Acting Dominant

Acting Dominant
By Tigger c2008, All Rights Reserved              

Permission is granted for Fictionmania, StorySite, Nifty, Big Closet,
Bev's Balcony, and any other FREE site to archive and web publish this
story, unchanged, so long as the site remains free and my authorship
and copyright are acknowledged in the posting.  I do not consider so-
called adult-check systems to be free, and thus, these sites do not
have permission to host this story.


Acknowledgments:

My sincere thanks to Brandy Dewinter for the gifts of her creativity,
her insight, her eye for 'just the right word' (and just the wrong one
of mine) and her, ummm, persistence.  I can say without qualm that
there were many times when I was about to take this story in a
direction I did not want it to go because my characters were getting
out of hand.  In each case, she helped me see the problem and helped me
rein them in.  Not an easy task because, as I hope you'll see, ShaJuana
Price is a lady who is VERY determined to go and get her own way! So it
took BOTH of us to keep her in line!  My muse and I thank you, Brandy!

Special thanks to the TG-Fiction Listserv community who read this tale
in its pre-publication form and provided me with feedback, editing help
and encouragement.  At some point in every writing project, it becomes
impossible for me to read what I wrote because I 'see' what I thought I
wrote.  Any remaining errors are mine, probably because I wrongly
thought my way was better than those recommended by my 'beta-testers'.


Cautionary Notes: 

This is a love story with Female Dominant, Male Dominant, TV Dominant,
Female Submissive, Male Submissive, TV Submissive themes.  It is not
'Forced Femme' so much as 'Strongly Urged and Gently Manipulated
Femme.'  These are necessary to the story I want to tell, but I hope,
as with my earlier story, "Contract Modifications," that most readers
will not find these elements of theme too distressing.

I consider this tale to be a 'Hard-R' in rating as due to the
love/sexual scenes and due to some hard language.  In truth, however,
it is not much more graphic than most bodice-ripper romances available
at your local book-store so I feel that an 'X' rating is inappropriate.
It does, as noted above, feature Dominance and Submission themes, so
the reader should take that into consideration when deciding to read
this tale.  



Acting Dominant
Prologue: Don't Call Us
By Tigger c2008

"Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!" Ty Edwards railed, even as he slammed his
apartment door closed behind him.  "Dammit _ALL_ to _HELL_!!!"

Another audition down the toilet.  Hell, the eight hours of minimum
wage pay he MIGHT have earned had he not been standing around waiting
for his turn to read for this part had long since spiraled down the
porcelain throne, too.  That fifty bucks wouldn't have paid his
(seriously overdue) rent, but it would have meant something more
appetizing than the three-day old bread and the pitiful bit of moldy
cheese that would now be his dinner.

But the worst - that absolute worst - was getting slapped squarely in
the face with unequivocal proof of something he already knew and should
have long ago acknowledged.

Deep in his heart, anyway.  

He wasn't going to make it as a serious actor.

The proof of that had come when he'd slipped back into the theater to
retrieve his forgotten umbrella...

~-~

Once back inside the theater, Ty found that the audition room door
cracked open.  Crossing to the coat-tree from which his umbrella hung,
he was able to make out voices from within the audition room - voices
he recognized all too easily as belonging to producer and the director
who'd conducted his audition.  Unable to resist, and hoping to hear
something positive, he stole over to the door for a quick, furtive peak
through the tiny opening.  He wasn't able to see much, but apparently
the two men had been joined by a woman who had not been present for his
reading.  She was seated facing the two men with her back to the door. 
He couldn't see her face, but Ty could tell from her relaxed manner
that she was perfectly at ease being so close to the brusque producer. 


"I really liked that Edwards-kid's delivery," the director said.

"Too damned short," growled the producer, making the statement sound
like an epithet.  "And he can't sing for shit."

"We might be able to work around his height - Alan Ladd was short, and
he did just fine with the ladies.  As for the singing, all he really
needs is to be heard and understood.  I'm sure he can.  His enunciation
and delivery were great."

"This isn't Hollywood!  This is live theater and you can't hide the
fact that he's barely five-five when he has to trot out on stage or
dance with the rest of the cast.  Hell, Roxie Hunter is gonna be the
female lead, and she's five-seven in her stocking feet! Not only that,
but the only time she's EVER in only her stocking feet is when she's
changing from one pair of heels to another."

"Darling," a feminine voice put in, "language, please."

"Sorry, luvie," the producer's tone became instantly contrite, but only
in response to the woman's admonition.  His voice hardened again when
he turned his attention back to the director.  "Roxie's a freakin'
dancer! Her legs are her best feature so we have to play to them, and
that kid can't.  Forget him."

"But he dances well - really gracefully - you saw the tape of his
workout, Jazz," the director said, evidently to the woman because Ty
thought he heard an affirmative murmur from her.  "He'd be easy to
choreograph, and he's got a real feel for the part..."  The director's
persistence gave Ty hope.

"Look, the broads are taller, so the studs have to be taller, too.  He
isn't, so he isn't getting the part!  Got it?"

"Dar-ling," the voice of the woman called Jazz was sharp now.  "I WON'T
tell you again.  Watch your mouth!"

"Yes, sweetie."  That must be some woman, Ty thought.  He found himself
wondering about a woman who could shut up the boorish producer in mid-
spate - even if only for a few seconds.

"He did move very well," she continued speculatively.

"But, luvie," the producer countered, almost obsequiously, "What
happens if he drops Roxie during one of the dance routines?  The show
would be ruined."  Then, he changed the target of his remarks back to
the director.  "Don't waste my time with him, again - got it?" 

"Got it," the director sighed with an awful finality.

"Look, Roxie would make your guy look fragile and dainty, for go..
goodness' sake.  Find me somebody who's tall enough to make our star
look dainty."

"Okay, you're the boss."

"Glad you finally remembered that fact."

~-~

The utter finality of that pronouncement was still ringing in his ears
when Ty had crept away from the theater to wander aimlessly about the
streets of downtown New York.  For several gray, wet hours Ty had tried
- really tried -  to find that hoped-for something positive in what
he'd overheard.  On one hand, the director - that is to say - the TRUE
theater professional in that damned room had wanted to give him a
chance at the lead role.  He, at least, had recognized Ty's
professional acting abilities and had valued them.  

Unfortunately, it was the money men - the *angels* - and wasn't THAT
term a joke when applied to that unfeeling oaf of a producer - and not
the professionals who provided the monetary grease upon which the
wheels of theatrical world turned.  

And this show's angel had just cast Ty out of the theater's bright
lights and into the darkness of the 'real world.'

Ty told himself that it was past time that he had accepted the harsh
realities, and took stock of what passed for his life in this big, bad
and lonely city.  As he began to slowly make his way back across
downtown toward his little apartment, he began mentally ticking off
those painful truths on his wet fingers.

Truth 1.  He hadn't had a real acting job in nearly six months.  

Truth 2.  Whatever money he could make as a waiter, or short order
cook, or in retail sales, was barely enough to keep him afloat here in
the big bad city, and with the economic down turn, even those lousy
jobs were hard to come by.  They were hard to keep, too, since most
employers preferred 'reliable' workers, which they defined to be a
species that did not include wannabe actors who regularly asked for
time off to go to auditions.  Or who would quit without the desired
notice if a 'real' acting job came along.  Not that he'd seen one of
those real acting jobs recently, anyway - see Truth 1 above.

Truth 3.  He currently didn't have one of those lousy jobs, either.  He
didn't have ANY job - period.

Truth 4.  He was flat broke.  See Truth 3 above.

So here he was, broke, out of work, three days from eviction from a
ramshackle room, and looking forward to a meal that just might give him
food poisoning.  Not much to show for years of education, training,
hard work and sweat.  Fighting back the dark emotions that closed in
about his soul, Ty cursed the gene set that had given him the talent
and the drive to succeed, but had denied him the scant inches he needed
to have the opportunity to express that talent.

It was probably just as well that Ma Bell had cut off his phone service
last week, he mused ironically.  Otherwise he'd have to deal with the
decision of whether he should call home to ask for money.  Wouldn't his
father just relish that 'I told you so' opportunity?  

Okay, he thought, let's call that 'Truth 5.'  He had what almost any
sane person would call a great job waiting for him back home - good
salary, great benefits, a share of the company, and the fast track to
the president's corner-office in a few years.  God, but the last thing
Ty wanted to do with his life was to 'work his way up the ladder',
busting his ass to prove he had the 'right stuff' for the corporate
world until his father finally deemed that he was ready to take over
the family business.  There WAS more to life than making money.  

Wasn't there?

Ty had always hoped so - believed so - but what other choice did he
have now?  Being homeless and hungry on the streets of New York would
flat-out suck.  Even fuel injectors had to be better than that.



Acting Dominant
Chapter 1: Casting Call
By Tigger c2008

The schizoid ringing of his door bell ("Be it ever so humble" with five
or so of the notes randomly refusing to play) was a welcome distraction
from that line of thought.  A true survivor of the 'hard-knocks' school
of city dwelling, Ty checked his peephole before starting to unlock his
door.  What, or rather who he saw on the other side had him hurrying to
undo the four independently-keyed deadbolt security locks he'd
installed at his own expense when he'd moved in so many months ago.

"ShaJuana!" he said, real pleasure suffusing his tone.  "What's up?"

"Eaten yet?" the ebony-skinned goddess in jeans and a "Gold's Gym"
muscle shirt asked, holding up a bulging bag with the logo of a nearby
Chinese take-out place.  "I have sweet and sour pork," she said,
teasingly.

"No!" he said in a rush, and then stepped back to let her in.  "I was
just trying to figure out what culinary wonder with which I would tempt
my palette."

"Well, if you're gonna cook, this can always get eaten as leftovers,"
ShaJuana offered.

"No, I think this will be much better all around.  Not to mention
safer."

"Great.  You get some plates and stuff, and I'll lay this out and open
the wine."

In the claustrophobically-tight niche that the landlord had proudly
advertized as a kitchen, Ty's mind was only half on sorting out knives,
forks and plates - the other half was focused on the magnificent
ShaJuana Price.  ShaJuana was a singer/dancer who kept the wolves from
her door by working part-time as both a fitness model and as a personal
trainer when she was 'between acting engagements'.  She was five feet,
ten and a half inches and one hundred and fifty-nine pounds (okay,
maybe 165) of tautly muscled, yet shapely black beauty.  She was, in
Ty's opinion, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.  

ShaJuana's problem in the theater was exactly the opposite of Ty's own.
In three inch dancing heels, she towered over most leading men and just
about every locally available male principal dancer.  Few if any of the
current crop of actors or dancers could partner her in a serious modern
dance without risking a hernia.  Last Ty had heard, she was looking to
put a girl-group together - sort of a  Destiny's Child Grows Up and
Joins the WNBA with some of her taller girl-pals.  Since she hadn't
invited him to attend so much as a rehearsal, that probably wasn't
going all that well either.

"Hey, Ty-RONE," a voice called from the other side of the studio.  "You
gonna bring those plates or let us starve here?"

Suddenly, he was ravenous.  "Coming.  And for calling me Tyrone, YOU
have to surrender ALL the sweet and sour!"

"Dream ON, Ty-RONE, you dream on."

After the disappointments of the day, it felt good to laugh.

~-~

Somehow, over the meal, she had teased him into talking about the
audition.  When he'd asked her how she'd heard, she'd simply informed
him that, "A little bird told me."  And then she'd just listened,
saying only enough to keep him talking until he'd finally run down.
Only much later did Ty realize just how skillfully his friend had drawn
him out, how much he had revealed that he might otherwise have
preferred unsaid - even to as close a friend as Juana.

"So," ShaJuana said, topping off his wineglass, "What are you going to
do?  Go back home to sticksville?  Make fuel injectors for the rest of
your life?"

Ty sighed.  "It's either that or porn, I guess."  At the startled look
on his guest's face, he chuckled.  "One of my, umm, co-stars from an
earlier acting gig shared a dressing room with me.  He does the
occasional adult video these days.  Anyway, he calls me about once a
month or so to ask me if I'm ready to earn some 'real money'.  He
thinks I've got - how do I put this politely?  Ah, yes, I've got 'what
it takes' to make it big in the skin-trade."

"Oh really?" ShaJuana cooed, infusing a world of mock sensual interest
into those two words.  "Packin' large, are you, cutie?  How many
inches?"

"Juana!" Ty yelped, and then glared at her as the tall woman dissolved
into a surprisingly girlish giggle fit.

"The... hee hee hee... LOOK... on your FACE!" she managed to gasp out. 
"Oh, god, Ty, that LOOK!"

"I cannot say how pleased I am to have provided you with such
amusement, I'm sure," he replied, calling upon the starchy, pompous
dignity of a character role he'd once played in an Agatha Christie
production.

And then laughed back at ShaJuana when she started to babble out an
apology.  "Oh, you," she finally muttered when they'd both calmed down.
"So, will I be able to see this... 'what it takes' in Debbie Does
Dallas 15, coming soon to an adult vid-shop near you?"

Ty didn't answer immediately, and instead sipped his wine reflectively.
It wasn't like he hadn't given the concept a good deal of thought.
Truth to tell, the money would have been damned useful, but in the end,
it wouldn't work for him and he knew it.  "No.  Too public, too much
baggage.  Even if I were never to work in the legitimate theater again,
who knows who might recognize you from the few face shots a guy gets in
one of those vids?  Might make it hard to sell fuel injectors in the
Bible Belt, you know?"

Now it was the elegant black woman's turn to gaze thoughtfully into her
wine glass.  "You say so, but from what I've seen, about the only thing
in the world more faceless than the chick doing a porn shoot is the
stud doing her, but I can see it your way, too.  So, it's the, ahhh,
public nature of doin' porn that really stops you from goin' there?"

"I guess so, when you put it that way.  Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I just might have a proposition for you, Ty.  It's a little off
in left field - okay," she grinned wickedly, "maybe it's a LOT out in
left field, but if you agree, you're guaranteed $250.00 for two hours
work - maybe twice that, with the chance for more of the same if things
work out."

"Who do I have to kill?" Ty demanded flippantly, and then saw the
serious look on his friend's face.  Suddenly, he put things together.
"Not public... you want me to... to become a prostitute?"  His voice
cracked in shock.

ShaJuana sat up and leaned towards him.  "Not quite.  What I have in
mind isn't prostitution - not under the legal code of the City and
State of New York, anyway.  Look, Ty, my... employer and I have this
client who likes to play on the edge.  She's looking for some way to
... to meet his needs without," she hesitated, as if seeking the right
words, then shrugged.  "Without things going too far.  Let's just leave
it at that for the moment, okay?"

"Okay, but I'm not sure what I could do to help you with a client of
yours in that vein.  I thought you were a personal trainer.  Besides,
isn't going to the edge with that kind of thing dangerous?  What about
heart attacks and..."

The black woman's cheeks darkened as blood rushed to her face.  She
held up a hand to squelch his questions.  "Well, I am a personal
trainer, Ty, but just not quite the way you mean, and I do have a
client who you COULD really help me with him.  Without havin' to worry
about a heart attack or such."

"Oh, really?  If you're not THAT type of trainer, and this ISN'T
hooking, just what kind of client are we talking around here?"

"A submissive," was her soft, almost whispered reply.

"A what?" Ty asked, confused.

"A submissive," she reiterated more firmly.  "To put a point on it, the
guy pays big bucks to be my part-time sex slave."

"A sex slave," he repeated.  "You said this wasn't about prostitution."

"It's not prostitution because there is no intercourse, no oral sex,
not even a hand job - by me, that is.  If he gets off, he jacks off.  I
just watch, and give him some...pointed direction and make a few snide
comments from time to time while he does it."

"And you think I can help?  How?  I'm not exactly Mr. Studly, you
know... Oh... you want me to play the part of another, what did you
call him?  Oh, yeah, another submissive with him?" He shrugged away the
twinges of emotion - embarrassment and annoyance, that idea evoked in
his heart.  He was, after all, an actor, and a role was a role, and
money was money! 

"No..." ShaJuana said, drawing out the word, "I want you to be the
other dominant in a scene with him - a very passable TV mistress."

"Huh?  TV?  Mistress?  Don't tell there's some kind of reality show on
the tube about learning to be a dominatrix now!?  Must be one of the
cable access channels 'cause I sure haven't seen it on my over-the-
airwaves-only rabbit-ears."

Chocolate brown eyes rolled heavenward in laughing disbelief.  "Not TV
- as in TELEVISION -, you knucklehead! Cripes, Ty, you kill me! I want
you to be a TV - as in TRANSVESTITE - Mistress! I want to rig you out
in leather, lace and latex, squeeze you into a corset and too-tight,
too-high heels, slap a big-hair wig and some Goth-girl lip gloss on you
and have you there when I work him.  At the critical moment, we'll
just,  ah well, spring your true nature on him - literally."

"You're kidding me, right?  This is one of your practical jokes, isn't
it?"

"If it is a practical joke, it's on him - my client, that is -not you. 
Really, I'm serious about this, Ty.  My, ah, boss is serious, too.
Look, I'm not supposed to get into this with you, but she's already
talked money with me about this.  It's her idea, but she asked me if I
knew anyone, from my actor friends, who might be able and willing to
pull it off."

"She talked money?"

"She talked money - some of it up front, assuming you give it your best
shot and don't wimp out on me.  And if we can pull this off and really
screw with his head for him?  Maybe enough to give you some breathing
space with your landlord."

"He'll know I'm a guy from the beginning," he protested weakly.  "There
won't be any surprise or shock value or whatever it is you're
planning."

"Oh, trust me, cutie, just trust me.  I've made uglier men than you
into passable girls in my time as a 'personal trainer'.  You'll be
drop-dead sexy.  And you'll be disguised so he'll never know what you
really look like - as Tyrone, that is.  Heck, the whole public thing
won't even be an issue.  He could meet you at the bus stop right after
the session, and unless you forget to cream away your makeup, never
even know you've been just introduced."

"Great, just what I need to hear," he groaned.  

"Huh?" Juana interrupted, confused.  "What's the matter now?"

Ty could only shake his head and laugh.  "What's the matter, the woman
asks me.  Shit, Juana, I'll tell you what's the matter.  The very first
time - in my WHOLE life - anyone has EVER said I could be 'drop-dead
sexy?' She's talking about dressing me as a woman.  What a world."
Juana didn't say anything, letting her friend stew over it in his mind.
Then, he turned back to her.  "What makes you think I could pull this
off?  I have to tell you that in my sadly limited romantic experience,
I haven't ever ravished anyone." 

ShaJuana tossed her wild mane of black curls back and laughed.  With a
saucy, suggestive smile, she purred, "Honey, it ain't about ravishin',
it's about dominatin', and trust me, you can handle that part just
fine." 

That stopped Ty in mid-argument.  Dominating?  Him?  Well, that was
certainly paradigm shift for his self image.  It was rather exciting
that a woman like ShaJuana Price thought he could be dominant.  "You
think I could pull that off?" he asked, hesitantly.  

The cackle of laughter that answered him sent shivers up and down his
spine.  "WHooooeeee, ty-RONE, How kin you axe me that?" his guest
demanded in the heavy, city-black accent of a younger, less self-
assured ShaJuana.  "ME?  Homegirl herself?  Keee-ripes, sugah, ya most
scared me white tryin' to teach me to talk good for that turkey play we
was in, boy." 

Ty had to smile at that memory.  He had first met the statuesque
actress when they'd both been hired for the cast of an off-off-off-
Broadway show about a mind-swapped couple.  ShaJuana, as the maid into
whom the Master's mind was swapped, had needed to recite her lines
using an aristocratic English accent.  Tyrone, as the Master into whom
the maid's mind switched, had needed to learn how to 'shake his booty'
for several dance sequences.  Since neither of them had the financial
wherewithal to pay for acting or dancing lessons, they'd coached each
other, becoming close friends in the process.  Ty had learned his
lessons more easily than had ShaJuana, but by god, she'd eventually
learned them.  

In time for the ill-fated show to fold before its third performance,
but she HAD learned them.

"Will you do it?" ShaJuana asked again.

For a moment, Ty thought about refusing, only to remember that
sticksville and fuel injectors still lurked out there in the darkness -
waiting to pounce, waiting to suck the creative juices from him
forever.  As long as there was hope, another way open to him, he
couldn't give up his dream and go crawling back to his father's
business.  Ty shrugged, and tried to smile.  "Okay, when?  I really do
need money that badly."

"The session is scheduled for two days from now, in the afternoon.  How
about you come to my place tomorrow, and we'll see what we can do to
make you pretty, okay?"

Ty hesitated just a moment more.  If she could pull this off, it would
just about put paid to his dreams of ever being a serious stage actor. 
Serious stage actors had to be 'leading men' - they didn't 'lead men'
about while wearing leather catsuits and stiletto heels.  

Still, it was paid 'employment' - even acting - and it was legal.  Or
at least, it wasn't actually illegal.  

And it wasn't fuel injectors, which was all that needed to be said.
"I'll be there," he promised.  "10 o'clock okay with you?"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 2: Stage Test 1: Act 1, Scene 1: Costume Fitting
By Tigger c2008

Ty was far less certain about his decision the next morning when he
presented himself at ShaJuana's flat.  He'd almost called Juana twice
to beg off.  Vandalized public phones and his own disconnected service
were all that had gotten him this far.  He'd just have to tell her to
her face that he couldn't do it.

Unfortunately for that plan, telling ShaJuana Price 'no' -particularly
face-to-face - was not something at which Tyrone Edwards had ever had
any degree of success.  Nor was this time the exception that might
otherwise prove that rule.  Juana had literally dragged him inside the
door of her small flat before Ty had so much as drawn breath to speak. 
And then, she'd laid a finger across his lips to keep him shut up with
one hand, while she passed a heavy parchment envelope to him with the
other.  "Not a word, Ty, until you've opened that and read the note
inside."

Baffled, he nodded his head and saw his name written on the envelope.
The first thing he noticed was the handwriting.  It was exquisite, and
somehow, he knew without reading the first word that the author was
female and proud of that fact.  "Your boss?" he asked, holding up the
envelope to ShaJuana.

"I said 'not a word,' Tyrone, until you've read it," his friend replied
sternly.  "Either read it, or put it down now and we'll forget the
whole deal."

Seeing the resolve on his friend's lovely features, Ty shrugged, then
broke the old-fashioned wax seal on the envelope.  Inside were two
items - a note on parchment stationery that matched the envelope, and a
crisp, brand-new fifty-dollar bill.  Ty glanced longingly at the bill
before turning his full attention to unfolding the note and reading its
contents.

     'Dear Mr. Edwards,

     Since you are reading this, I must assume that ShaJuana has
managed to convince you to attempt my little project.  Once you have
read this note, you may keep the enclosed $50.00 even if you elect not
to take this any further.  ShaJuana has been directed to give you a
quick quiz on the contents of this note should you decide to leave.
You must pass the quiz in order to keep the money, so I suggest you
finish reading my little missive.

     What I have in mind is for you to help me play with one of my
favorite clients.  However, I am a perfectionist when it comes to my
vocation, and I must have confidence that you can and will give
satisfaction in the role I intend you to fill.  In order to evaluate
your abilities in this area, I propose two tests: one today, and one
tomorrow.  If you pass today's test, you will be given the opportunity
to attempt tomorrow's challenge.  Let me assure you that I will pay you
at the end of each test, provided that you make an honest attempt.  

     I point this out because, in honesty, the tests will be demanding,
and for many men in our society, unacceptable to their basic self
image.  All I ask is that you start each test, and if you do reach a
point where you find you cannot continue, be honest enough to share
that with ShaJuana and myself.  

     Today's exercise will be simple enough for you if you are, indeed,
the actor ShaJuana believes you are.  You must try to dress passably as
a woman.  Between your own talents and those of ShaJuana, that should
not be difficult.  Complete this day's challenge successfully, which I
insist you prove by having a photograph of you taken en femme, and you
will be given another $150.00.  

     I hasten to add that the picture is not for the purposes of
blackmailing you.  As an actor, it would be very easy for you to pass
off any such attempt as being required for a role - which in fact, it
is.  No, the picture is to ensure that ShaJuana fulfills her part of
this exercise, which is to dress you properly.  I know of the
friendship between you, and of your current financial need.  I also
know that you have refused direct financial help from ShaJuana on at
least two occasions.  Unless she shows me 'before' and 'after' pictures
of you, any money you receive will be deducted from her next paycheck.

     For an actor, this should be the easiest two hundred dollars
you'll ever make, and it will be the prerequisite for taking tomorrow's
test.

     For now, I won't go into specifics about what I intend to ask of
you in that regard as I want your full attention on completing today's
test to the best of your ability.  I will say that tomorrow's test will
be more in nature of 'method' training for the role I have in mind for
you should you decide to play with us.  If you come tomorrow, and give
it your honest, best attempt, I will pay you $1,000, even if in the end
either of us decides you cannot go any further.

     Consider your options carefully, Mr. Edwards.  You risk very
little, as anonymity is every bit as vital to my clients and me as it
would be to you.  No real harm will be inflicted on any person involved
in this venture as that would both violate my personal ethics and would
ruin my personal pleasure in my play.

     I hope to see you tomorrow at 10:00 AM.

              Sincerely, Maitresse Solange'

"Holy shit," Ty muttered softly as he digested the unknown woman's
words for a moment.  She was right, he told himself.  There was nothing
about what she wanted him to do that couldn't be written off as
preparation for part in a play - a strange play, certainly, but a play
nonetheless.  Come to that, it wasn't any more off-the-wall than
learning to dance like a hip-hop music video girl for that first play
with ShaJuana.  And if no one was going to get hurt in all this...
well, for TWELVE HUNDRED BUCKS, cripes, but he hadn't had that much
money at one time in -well, he couldn't even remember when he had.  He
could handle a whole lot of teasing for that kind of money.  Smiling
for the first time that day, Ty raised his hand in the air like a
school boy who needed to go to the bathroom.  "Can I talk, now,
teacher?"

"Smartass," ShaJuana said with a rueful grin.  Then she picked up a
small recording device and turned it on.  "Are you going to stay and
finish today's exercises, Mr. Edwards?" she went on, in formal tones.

"Yes, ShaJuana, I will stay and do my best."

For just a moment, she shut her eyes in something like relief, before
reaching over and turning off the recorder.  "Glad that's over.  The
Maitresse can be the most total bitch when she's crossed.  Now, you can
keep that fifty without worrying about whether it is really my money."

"She evidently knows a lot about me," Ty said carefully.  "Including
how close our friendship is."

Serious again, ShaJuana nodded.  "She had to know, Ty, before she
decided to trust you even this far.  She has to protect our clients and
the other girls who work for her at the dungeon.  I think it was the
fact that you wouldn't take any money from me, even when you needed it
to stay in that rathole flat of yours is what convinced her to give you
a try in this role."

"Okay, I can understand that.  So what's the plan for today?  Leather
bustiers, latex panties and fishnet stockings?"

"Hah, you wish!"

"What?  I wish?"

"Can't go for a nice walk in the park in full-up Domme gear, honey."

"HEY, no one said anything about going out..."

"And we won't, unless I think you'll pass and you're willing..."

"Which I won't..."

"For another fifty bucks," ShaJuana said coaxingly.  "Which, combined
with the other two hundred she promised you will be enough to keep your
landlord off your back for a few more days.  Maitresse said that if the
after pictures come from that little photo-booth outside the park,
she'd spring for the extra fifty as a bonus," 'Juana wheedled.

That stopped Ty in mid-sentence.  Unfortunately, her assessment of the
current state of his finances and his landlord's patience was only too
true.  "Bitch," he finally breathed, before giving her a bashful smile.
"You promise you'll be honest with me?  About passing?"

"Would I lie to you, Ty-RONE?!?"

"I won't answer that," he sniffed, and barely managed to duck the
flying pillow that answered him.  "So, to ask again, what's on the
costume manager's list for today?"

"Nothing too unusual.  Couple outfits, actually - just basic everyday
stuff.  Think sexy girl next door," then she grinned wickedly, "except
for a pair of two, well, maybe three inch high heels.  You'll need the
practice."

"Three inch heels?  You're kidding, right?"

ShaJuana smiled wickedly.  "Nope.  If you pull this gig off, you'll
need them.  Hey, the shortest I wear when I'm working a sub measure
five inches, honey.  For the scene, Maitresse will probably put you in
four-inchers, at least, but you'd be kinda conspicuous walking around
downtown in those ankle-breakers -particularly if you're a slow
learner.  Think of it as easing yourself into the role slowly."

"Slow learner, my ass.  So, where do I stand for my before-pic?" he
asked, looking around for a decent backdrop for his first portrait of
the day.

~-~

"Into the shower, ty-RONE," ShaJuana ordered sternly from behind the
small bathroom's closed door.  "That hair remover should be just about
done."

"Thank you, God," he breathed as he scampered for the relief of cool,
running water to wash away the liquid fire she'd rubbed everywhere that
wasn't covered by the Speedo swimsuit his friend had provided for his
modesty.

ShaJuana peaked through in the doorway, smiling as she heard heartfelt
sighs of relief issue from the other side of the shower curtain.
"Better get those trunks off, Ty, and soap up your crotch and butt real
good.  The hot soapy water will soften those pubes of yours and make
them easier for me to shave for you."

Ty's head burst out from a crack between the curtain-halves, the two
panes clutched tightly about his body to preserve what little dignity
he still possessed.  "Shave?!?  Down there?!?  You're shitting me!"

Smiling, 'Juana shook her head slowly, while dangling an unopened
economy package of pink "Lady Bic" razors up for his examination.
"Gotta be done, boy.  Part of the costume, Ty.  Maitresse's orders.
Don't want no scraggly ol' guy-pubes showin' when you work our client. 
So, either you shave off what's left, or I do.  And I figure those
precious jewels are gonna be a whole lot safer in my hands than yours. 
Least-ways, I can see what I'm doin' down there, but hey, it's your
choice.  "  She watched her friend struggle with this next step.
Clearly, he hadn't fully digested that they were going to have to be
nude or nearly nude in each other's presence; something that brought a
whole new level of intimacy into their heretofore platonic if
flirtatious relationship.

In a less teasing voice, she said again, "If we do the scene, I'm going
to see your treasures in all their glory, anyway, so it might as well
be now.  I am pretty good with a razor around the, ah, sensitive bits,
ya know.  I do mine every week, and have done more than a couple of my
darlin' little sissy boys, too," she added, "at the dungeon.  Of
course," she added, in an exaggeratedly reflective tone, "I did those
with a straight razor.  I think I have one if..."

"NO!" Ty bellowed, retreating back under the shower and letting the
water stream down his body.  Then, with a dripping shrug, he slipped
out of the trunks, extended them out between the curtains, and tossed
them to the floor at ShaJuana's feet.  They made, he decided, a rather
satisfyingly wet 'splat' when they hit, and he could only hope they'd
splashed Juana.  "Those safety razors will be just fine,
thankyouverymuch!" 

~-~

"Relax, Ty, I promise I won't cut off anything important!"

"I know that in my head, but ... "

"I know," ShaJuana said with a giggle, "It's your little head down here
that's not getting the message.  Not that it's all that little.  Maybe
you do have a future in adult vids, after all." She gave the length of
his penis a sensually teasing slide with her soapy hand.  "Mmmmmmmm,"
she purred suggestively from deep in her throat, "You DO have a nice
one, white boy."

"Juana! Don't DO that!"

"Oh pooh, Ty.  Just relax and enjoy it, okay?  Besides, it's easier to
get a smooth shave when the skin is taut." Another fondle had him
shuddering.  Women and sex, like money, had been in sadly short supply
in recent times.  It was all he could do to hold back the eruption that
nearly overwhelmed his control as his ebony Amazon drew the razor down
the center of his scrotum.

And besides - this was 'Juana!  His best friend, the angelic-Ty
standing piously atop his right shoulder reminded him.  She was, in the
final analysis, just another buddy, for all she was a girl.  Kind of
like a sister, right?

Like HELL, the little devil leering at her form his perch on Ty's left
shoulder shouted in his mind.  ShaJuana wasn't his sister and she
wasn't JUST a girl - she was a damned GORGEOUS girl, and to hell with
this 'just buddies' crap!!

Before the little angel could retaliate with a suitable riposte to that
argument, the little devil won.  "I get to do you!" Ty blurted, and
instantly regretted it as her grip on his manhood suddenly tightened
reflexively.

"Do me...WHAT, Ty-rone?" she demanded, her eyes wide and her lips a
tight line.

Swallowing hard, he considered backing down and making a joke.  Only,
he realized, he didn't think it was a joke.  "I want to shave you," he
managed to get past the lump in his throat.  "Ummm, down there....
some time..."

For a moment, he was sure he'd blown it, and then her face relaxed into
the teasing smile that he'd learned to beware.  "Do you really?" she
mused, her hands returning to her task.  "Well, maybe I'll let you."
And the smile went from teasing to ... something more.

Ty goggled, and ShaJuana laughed.  "Maybe," she repeated.
"Afterwards."

"After what?  You're done doing me?"

Juana laughed throatily at that.  "Hell, no, cute-thing.  Sometime
AFTER we blow my slave boy's mind together and after Maitresse pays you
for what had damn well better be the most stellar performance of your
acting career tomorrow."  She leaned over, hinting at her mouth going
to his now-throbbing manhood, then bent back up and gave him a quick
pecking kiss on the tip of his nose.  "Consider that offer as
motivation for getting into your role, sweetie."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 3: Stage Test 1 - Act 1, Scene 2: Just a Walk in the Park
By Tigger c2008


"That wasn't so bad, now was it... Tyra?" Juana asked with the smug
assurance of a parent whose child had just learned - the hard way -
that broccoli wasn't poisonous.  She was slipping the two strips of
photo-booth pictures into an envelope for later delivery to her boss,
confident that Maitresse would love them.  "Don't leave your purse in
the booth, sweetie."

"Oh! Right!" the blonde came up short and hurried back into the booth,
returning moments later carrying the small day purse over her shoulder.
"Forgot about, well... and  I guess it wasn't too bad - the picture
taking I mean.  It's not like I was in a war zone, being shot at..."

"Or you could be in your daddy's factory, fiddling with carburetors?"
At her companion's reluctant nod, she smiled.  "How about a little
walk, girl friend?  Not to be too picky, but, honey?  You could use the
practice." 

"Okay, I guess," was the softly spoken reply.  "And it's fuel
injectors."

One nice thing about trained actors, Juana mused, they already knew how
to modulate their voices to suit the parts they were playing.  Ty's
pitch was already good enough to pass - they just needed to work on a
few minor touches, and then only if Maitresse decided to give him a
speaking part in her little comedy.  However, her friend's body-
carriage and movement still needed some pointed reminders that Tyra
wasn't Ty and she shouldn't be moving like him.  ShaJuana leaned over
to whisper, "Don't clomp like that! You'll hurt yourself in them heels
and, 'sides, you'll call attention to yourself!"

"Oh!" Ty repeated.  "Got it.  I'll try, but let's not go too fast or
too far from your place?" Ty asked, "I know these shoes aren't quite
three inches, but I don't want to have to limp back to your place
barefoot over the streets of New York because I got carried away in
your enthusiasms."

"No prob, Tyra.  Just keep movin' them hips to the rhythm of the city
and you'll be just fine.  You try to stride out like you're marching
and those heels'll come back and bite you."

"I suppose."  Distracted by the reflection in one of the glass
storefronts, Ty slipped up and fell back into 'male voice'.  He'd
played many roles, he thought wonderingly, from a teenaged boy to a
stodgy, geriatric British aristocrat whose body had been taken over by
the mind of a Jamaican tweenie.  He was USED to seeing himself
transformed by the magic of costume and makeup into someone completely
different.

But this?  Never.  

The person who stared back from those murky depths would have been at
home on any college campus in the country.  Well, ones that had girls
on them, anyway.  She, for the reflected person was definitely a she,
was of average height for a woman, thanks mostly to the aforementioned
high heels.  

Because the shade suited Ty's natural coloration, the 'she' in that
window had straight blond hair which Juana had combed back into a
simple pony tail.  Gold wire-framed glasses were perched on the nose of
a very lightly made-up face, giving the reflected 'she' the large eyed
look of a startled fawn.  A figure hugging t-shirt clung lovingly to a
modest, yet shapely bosom and was tucked into skin-tight, calf-length
jeans that showed off very womanly hips and a rounded butt.  

Still amazed, Ty turned away from the glass, arched his back and looked
over his shoulder at the back of the reflected girl.  "I still can't
believe you let me wear jeans..."

"Voice!" ShaJuana hissed urgently, bringing Ty up short.  

Taking a deep breath, the blonde nodded, and started moving down the
sidewalk.  The tall black girl relaxed, as they put some distance
between themselves and anyone who might have heard her partner's
momentary slip.  As mistakes went, it really hadn't been that bad, she
thought, recalling her experiences as a dominatrix who often pushed her
subbies out into the public world en femme, but then again, there was
no point in taking undue risks.

"Tyra?  Why don't we take a turn around the park?  I know you've got
questions, and we'll have some privacy there for the answers." And if
you slip up again, she thought, there won't be so many people who might
pick up on it.  With that, she took Ty's elbow gently in her hand, and
firmly guided her creation across the street to the park entrance.

~-~

"Caught you by surprise, didn't it?" Juana asked when they were in a
quiet section of the park.  "When you saw yourself in that window and
saw what other folks were seeing?"

"My Go..." Ty's voice started, and then modulated into Tyra's, "od,
Juana.  You told me to swing my hips, and then I saw myself! I mean, I
really have, well, hips to swing!  I mean, I've heard of falsies - what
guy hasn't - but I always thought that meant, well, you know," and
Tyra's hands made a subtle cupping motion in the general direction of
her modest bosom.  "and... and these aren't even very big.  I sort of
expected, well, more..."

Juana laughed at her friend's confused rambling.  "Hey, some girls need
help up top and some need booty-buildin'.  Now, most of my special
clients - the ones like YOU - well, they need help both ways, so we
keep a supply of both types of falsies at the house.  As to why your
figure is more J-Lo than Dolly?  In case you never thought about it,
hon, it ain't boobs that say 'girl!' and bring out the 'yee-hah' in a
guy's hormones.  It's hips and it's a great ass that flare out from a
small waist.  Thanks to those falsies and that bit of corset, you,
baby, got back!"

"And the makeup?  I know I told you I could do it, but..."

"But you would have done what you've been trained to do with makeup,
Ty, not what was needed today.  It would have been more dramatic -
stage makeup - much too obvious for this outing.  I wanted your face to
be subtle for the same reason I had you wear jeans instead of that
skirt set.  We don't want you getting too many second looks because you
don't know enough about your role yet to pass the closer second look.
You don't understand how to operate in a skirt without flashing half of
Manhattan.  Jeans aren't out of place.  That light makeup isn't out of
place.  So, YOU, Tyra-the-girl aren't seen as being out of place.  Got
it?

"Hiding in plain sight?"

"Exactly! Any other questions?"

"Can we go back to your place now?  I need to get out of these shoes
soon or I won't be able to walk tomorrow, let alone perform."

"Sure, hon.  Feel like some eggs and toast?  I'll give you some 'Eating
like a girl' lessons while we have lunch."



Acting Dominant
Interlude: A Family Affair.


"Mistress?" a male voice called to her, interrupting her anticipation
of tomorrow's little play.

The woman looked up from her desk, and fought back the smile that
threatened to soften her aristocratic features.  He was a sight in
nothing but his absurdly small mob cap, the white lace apron and the
men's size 13 EEEE, six-inch-tall stiletto heels.  A feather duster
hanging from a leather lanyard at his wrist was his only accessory.
Ridiculous as his costume might seem to others less discerning than
herself, he was, in a word, perfect -at least for her.

"Yes, what is it?" she demanded sternly.

"I've finished cleaning up after dinner and am about to go down to
prepare the dungeon, Mistress.  I just wanted to know what type of wine
you would like for afterwards?  I have a very nice red that I could set
to breathe, if you think that would suit?"

She didn't answer immediately, as if she were carefully considering the
possibilities.  In reality, she was simply reveling in her view  of her
submissive flushing red with excitement from this mild humiliation she
had imposed upon him.  The 'unsightly' bulge beneath the lacy apron
proved that she was not alone enjoying this little warmup scene before
their night's main event.  

"I think I'm in the mood for something bubbly tonight.  Put some Krug
on ice, and then go wait for me in the dungeon.  I'll be down shortly. 
I expect to be pleased with your cleaning and with your personal
presentation."  There was an implied 'or else' in her tone that sent
shivers racing up and down her submissive's spine.

As she'd intended.

"Yes, Mistress," was the quick response.  She heard the eagerness in
his voice, and smiled as she watched him scurry bare-assed from the
room, his heels clicking on the hard tile of the hallway floor.  Those
size-13's had been expensive, but well worth it for the fun they both
had whenever she prescribed their wear for this task or another.

With the preparations for the evening's entertainment now well in hand,
she turned her attention back to the parcel she'd just received from
ShaJuana.  She laid the two strips of photographs carefully on her desk
and examined them closely under the light of her lamp.  

The pictures were snapshot quality, but still sufficient for her
purposes.  The potential she'd expected to find was there, captured in
Kodacolor.  The child had made the effort to 'be in role' for the
pictures, too, for the classic images of the 'just-barely-adult' female
were there - the head cocked, teasing smile; wide eyes peaking over the
lenses of those cute glasses (props to ShaJuana for that little
embellishment) at the camera; the half-grin, with the glasses dangling
near her mouth, and so on.

However, it was the final picture that caught her eye, and that gave
her confidence that this one could indeed pull off the role she
envisioned for ShaJuana's friend.  Lips tight and showing white teeth
in a feral grin, and the manicured middle finger of one hand presented
in the classic gesture, the sweet girl of the other photos was no where
to be found in this one.  No, this was the picture of a female
predator, ready to pounce on her prey and then happily play with it
before finally deigning to make the kill.

If the young actor did as well tomorrow when she gave him his go-no-go
test, then they'd see, wouldn't they?  The possibilities, she mused,
there were just such interesting possibilities.

Smiling at the thought of those possibilities, she put the photos back
in the envelope, carefully filed it away, and then rose from the desk. 
She had other things to do now, such as inspect her 'maid-servant's'
attempts at housework.  

Her poor subbie had yet to do a really thorough job of cleaning
anything the first time when she had him in those stilts.  She had
never figured out if it was because, 

a.  being male, he was genetically incapable of properly cleaning
    anything;

b.  being that tall meant he didn't see the dirt that well, or 

c.  that he rushed so he could get out of the shoes as quickly as
    possible, or 

d.  because he liked being punished as much as she liked punishing him.

Probably some or all of the above, she thought with a smile.  In any
case, she headed for the dining room and kitchen with every expectation
that her darling mate would have to sleep on his tummy tonight; his
penance for yet another botched clean-up assignment.

When she finally let him go to sleep, that is.  She had other tasks for
him that would, she was sure, take up a goodly portion of the night, to
their mutual pleasure.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 4: Stage Test 2 - Staging and Scenery
By Tigger c2008


The cacophony of the big city's rush hour assailed their ears as
ShaJuana led Ty through the theater district towards an area undergoing
serious regentrification.  Ty expected that they would continue through
that neighborhood and into the rougher, as-yet un-reclaimed section of
town.  Surely, he thought, that was where establishments such as
'dungeons' could thrive without bothering (or being bothered by) the
neighbors.

So he was surprised when they stopped in front of a 1940's era
warehouse that had been converted into a rather high end street bazaar.
The block-long building was filled from end to end with stylish
boutiques and shops offering everything from designer clothes to
designer foods to designer hair and grooming services.  This couldn't
be a 'dungeon', he thought.  It was too, well, too out in plain sight. 
How could they hide what was going on with so many people about?

Smiling at his obvious confusion, Juana took him by the arm and led him
to a door at the far end of the block of store fronts.  A sign on the
door indicated it provided access to the "Service Associates, LLC."
The door opened onto a well appointed foyer in which a perky, blond
receptionist, seated on the other side of the well appointed room,
greeted them.  "Hi, Juana.  The Boss told me to expect you.  You and
your friend are set to meet with her at 10 AM in Room Play Room - 3.
You've got Prep Room -1 right now for your setups."

"Thanks, DeeDee."

"Have fun," the Little-Mary-Sunshine clone chirped as ShaJuana stepped
up to the door next the receptionist's station and quickly keyed in a
code on the electronic keypad next to the doorknob.  When a soft buzzer
sounded, she opened the door and indicated that Ty was to enter.
Inside the door, a set of stairs led up to the second floor, where a
complex of the expected offices were located.  Juana led him down a
short hallway to a door marked "Office Supplies" and entered.  It
seemed like a dead end to Ty, and he was about to ask what was up when
the entire back wall of the supply closet, shelves and all, swung open
to reveal another waiting room.  They went inside and the hidden door
closed behind them.

"You need to understand, Ty, that you now have enough knowledge to do a
lot of damage if you were so inclined, or if you slipped up and told
the wrong people.  The location of this dungeon is known only to the
people who work directly for Maitresse and those people she trusts
enough to take on as clients."

"This is it?  Really?  I mean, this is not what I think of when I hear
'dungeon', Juana."

The beautiful woman's face relaxed into a broad smile.  "Oh, you just
never know what you'll find where in New York.  Besides, who says you
gotta have a castle for a real dungeon, right?" Then she became serious
again.  "You do understand that Maitresse is trusting you, and I'm the
one vouching for you?"

"I won't violate your or her trusts, Juana."  And there was a stiff,
offended tone to his voice.

ShaJuana relaxed, and smiled again.  "I know, but I had to hear you say
it.  Okay, let me give you the nickel tour.  Maitresse's business takes
up the rest of this floor and all of the third floor of the old
warehouse.  From here to the other end of the block are the public and
preparation rooms - where folks do the meet and greet, get ready to
play or come down off a scene.  There's even a real clinic down here,
as opposed to the play clinic upstairs"

"You ever needed that?"

"Not since I've been here.  Maitresse is very careful who she lets play
here and how hard she lets them play, but you just never know for sure,
right?  You never need something like a clinic in-house until you
really need it.  Come on.  Don't know how complicated today's gonna be,
but we'll find out what Maitresse wants us, well, what she wants you to
be and do today."

The prep-room was a cross between a health club locker room and a
theater dressing room.  There were large, metal lockers on one wall
opposite a large mirror, a multiple-seat vanity table and a dressing
screen against the facing wall.  The other two walls were lined with
clothes racks filled with garments of all types and materials.  Beneath
the racks were what must have been more than one hundred pairs of
shoes, while the shelf on top of one rack had mannikin heads, each
sporting a different wig in a variety of colors and styles.  The shelf
on the other rack held a large number of strange headgear that really
could not be called 'hats.'

One thing was immediately obvious.  None of the garments, shoes, wigs
or headgear were in any way masculine.  Well, Ty thought, no surprise
there.

While Ty had been staring at the room, ShaJuana had moved over to the
vanity and picked up an envelope.  Opening it, she quickly removed and
scanned through the note, then shrugged.  "Okay, Tyra, time to get you
fitted out.  Skin out of them boy clothes and put them in one of the
lockers.  All the way!  It's just nine and we only have an hour to get
ready.  Good thing we got rid of the body hair yesterday," she added,
more to herself.

Ty just stared at her for a second, then turned to the locker and began
to strip.  "Gonna give me an idea on the script for this play, Juana?"
he asked, looking over his shoulder.

And nearly gave himself whiplash when he snapped back to see the
gorgeous Juana already down to her bra and panties.  "Umm... Juana?
Don't you think you should use the screen?"

"No, we don't have time," she replied forcefully, "and didn't I just
tell you to strip, boy?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and resumed his undressing, caught between that
angel and devil again, wanting to respect her privacy while at the same
time, wanting to enjoy her tall, voluptuous beauty.  

"Hurry up! We've got to get you into this corset, and that will take
time."

"We've got an hour," he offered, as he tossed the last of his clothes
into the locker.  Juana pushed her own into the same locker, and then
set the combination lock.  

"Didn't you learn anything yesterday, knucklehead?  Guess not! Okay,
over to the corseting trapeze - NOW!"

"Corseting trapeze?  What the hell is that?!?"

"Trust me.  You'll love it!"

As it turned out, he didn't.

~-~

At 9:45, both he and ShaJuana were mostly in costume.  She hadn't been
kidding about the heels, either.  Hers were easily five inches,
probably more, and his were at least four inches tall.  Other than
that, their costumes couldn't have been more different.  Ty wore a
classic French Maid's dress in black satin, the skirt stiffened from
waist to hem so that it's lowest point was but bare inches lower than
the smallest measure of his tightly corseted waist.  Impressively
realistic breast prosthetics gave the illusion of a full bust and
incredible cleavage.  Black satin garters, attached to the corset, held
up black fishnet stockings.  He had a bow tie collar and cuff-linked
wrist cuffs that looked like they'd been borrowed  from a Playboy
Bunny.  A blond wig, this time done up in a tight, French braid, was on
his head, and was accessorized with a lacy cap.

"I feel like a kinky Mary Poppins who swallowed her umbrella," he
groused.  "Does this skirt have to poof out like this?  It covers
nothing and I can't even see my feet!"

"Hey, 'least you ain't havin' to wear the hip and bun pads, boy.  In
case you haven't figured it out yet, Ty-RONE, that skirt's not s'posed
ta cover anything.  It has a built-in petticoat to make it stand out
like that because that's what a French Maid's skirt looks like, and
they're part of that skirt because it's easier for us dominatin' types
that way.  Only the skirt has to come off when it's time to get the
client stripped for action.  Petticoats just get in the way and time
flies when you're havin' fun." and then she cast a teasing eye-twinkle
at her friend.  "You'll see... maybe."

"Great.  Oh well, the show must go on, even for Practically Imperfect
in Every Way French Maids with poofed-out skirts."

For her role, Juana was clad head to toe and throat to wrist in a
white, leather catsuit that was so tight, it had taken both of them to
get her zipped.  The contrast between her flawless black skin and the
shiny white suit was both shocking and erotic.  Moreover, the deeply
cut bodice made her breasts look huge.  In fact, Ty wasn't entirely
sure how what little of Juana's boobs that were covered stayed covered.
Just one deep breath, he thought longingly, and all that glory would be
just ... out there to enjoy.

"Do your own makeup, Tyra," Juana ordered as she moved to the vanity
herself.  "Think about your costume, and think theater.  In other
words, lay it on thick, bright 'n heavy."

Obeying, Ty moved to the vanity beside his friend.  "What about the
script?"

The tall woman gave what might have been a sigh.  "That's just it,
Tyra, there ain't no script.  This is all on the fly, improv-stuff,
okay?  You're a guy, masquerading as maid.  Maitresse and I are gonna
be the ones you're serving.  The thing is, that if you're not spot-on
perfect in both the servin' and the girl-stuff, you're gonna get
punished as part of the scene."

"Punished?  I thought you said I was to play a dominant role in this
little play!  Punished, HOW?"

"Dominant role's tomorrow, honey.  You ain't gonna be a Domme today -
not rigged out like that, okay?  Maitresse wants to make sure you won't
break, won't, well, go spaz during the real scene and ruin it for
everyone - especially for the client.  So she's going to try to push
your buttons.  As for the punishment?  I'd guess some teasing - heavy
teasing, maybe some bondage, and probably a spanking." ShaJuana
considered that more carefully and continued.  "I'd say a spanking's
gonna be a 'for certain', Ty.  Maitresse likes handin' out sexy
spankings."

Ty was flabbergasted.  "SPANKING?  She said no one would get hurt! When
the hell did THAT change?!  Let me out of here, dammit!" he snapped,
bending over to undo the straps that held his feet in the inflexible
shoes he already hated.

Strong hands gripped his wrists, pulling him back upright so that he
was looking up into Juana's chocolate eyes.  "It WON'T hurt -not really
- trust me, Ty, okay?  Sting a little, maybe, but no more than that, I
promise you.  I went through worse during my training to be a Domme
because I had to learn what everything felt like and how to control my
strength.  This test is to see if you can control yourself, stay in
character when things get a little rough emotionally.  So you won't
mess up the works with Bil...I mean, my client.  No more than that -
believe me."  

Ty didn't answer, but she could see the doubt and scepticism  in his
eyes.  "I don't know HER," he finally managed to get out.

"Ty, if I thought she'd hurt you, you wouldn't be here, and neither
would I, okay?  And if she does hurt you, even by accident - and I
truly believe that is the ONLY way she would hurt you  - I'll have you
out of there in a New York second!  Got that?"

"Okay, so if I mess up, and get spanked, I lose my 'Get out of dungeon
free card',  do not pass Go, but I still collect 1,000 dollars on my
way out?  I mean, if I'm not feminine enough, I can't do the thing
tomorrow, is that it?"

"Well, that's not quite what's goin' down, okay?" Juana momentarily
struggled with what and how much to say, then decided to opt for full
disclosure.  Ty wasn't an experienced player -hell, he wasn't any kind
of player - and he could really screw things up from pure ignorance and
surprise.  "Look, Ty...  The thing is you ain't been doing 'girl' long
enough NOT to mess up, and the Maitresse knows that - Hell, Ty, she
expects it and more than that?  She WANTS it.  What I think this is
about is that if you can remain in character as a woman during the
scene, she'll figure you can handle whatever she has in mind for
tomorrow, and give you the job."

Ty thought about that for a few moments, during which ShaJuana held her
breath.  Finally, he shrugged.  "Okay, I can always quit if it hurts.
Guess that explains the REAL reason you didn't give me any fanny
padding this time, huh?"

~-~

Climbing the stairs to the third floor in four inch heels was not the
most fun thing Ty had done in his life.  Especially since the steps
weren't wide enough for him to put both the toe and the heel of the
shoe on the step.  The heel, such as it was, always hung over the edge
of the step tread.  The shoes also messed with his center of gravity,
putting parts of his body where his muscle memory didn't expect those
body parts to be.  He was damned grateful for the stair railing because
without it to hang on to, sure as anything, he would've found himself
sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a very sore butt well before
he'd managed half the damned steps.

They stopped at a door labeled PR (Play Room)-3.  "This is it, Tyra,"
ShaJuana said softly.  "From here, I go in and close the door.  Once
we're sure everything in there is ready for us, you'll be summoned.
Once you enter, the curtain raises and you're on.  Your safe word is
'Shakespeare.'  If you really get hurt, or if you just can't handle
what's going down for ANY reason, before you hurt yourself or any one
else, just say 'Shakespeare.'  Okay?  If you say it, we stop, the scene
ends, we go get your clothes, get you get paid for today, and you don't
come back tomorrow.  Understand?"

Ty nodded.

"I need to you say the words, Tyra."

"Yes, ShaJuana, I understand.  It's okay with me," he told her.  She
nodded, and started to open the door.  "Except for one thing," he
amended quickly.  Startled, Juana turned back to face him, concern on
her lovely features.  "Je m'appelle Tia, s'il vous plaŒt?"

"HUH?  What did you say?"

Ty grinned.  "I said, my name is Tia, if you please.  I'm not the one
here who looks like Tyra Banks."

ShaJuana gave a laughing snort.  "Well, the only person I call Tia is
my Tia Elaina.  She's my dad's older sister,  and you look a helluva
lot more like Tyra Banks than you look like my maiden aunt.  Hell, if
she ever wore an outfit like the one you're wearin', she wouldn't have
ended up an old maid.  You're not going to sell yourself as *anyone's*
auntie, little girl."

The feminine face wrinkled into a frown.  "Well, I still don't think
Tyra works for me.  I can't get my head around that getting into a role
with that name.  How about ... Tysa ... Tyma ... Tyka ... ummm... I
KNOW! Tina.  That's a nice maid name, eh?"

"Tina," the tall goddess said, stretching the name out as if she were
tasting it to see if the dish was properly seasoned.  "Yes, that works
just fine - nice and girly," and then she grinned wickedly.  "Just like
you."

Bending down, she planted a soft kiss on Ty's heavily powdered cheek.
"See ya on the other side ... Tina."

And then she was gone, and the door was shut.

And Tyrone Edwards was suddenly very much alone.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 5: Stage Test 2: The Admirable Tina
By Tigger c2008


He was beginning to fidget in the uncomfortable heels when a stern
voice called from within the room for 'the maid' to enter.  For just a
moment, the man in him faltered, but only for a moment.  Then the actor
within him called out, "Curtain!" whereupon Ty released himself to his
role.  With all his skill and will, he would become Tina.  Taking one
last deep breath (or at least, as deep as the cursed corset crushing
her diaphragm would permit) she opened the door, and stepped inside.

As the door closed behind her, the actor carefully scanned the staging
the room provided.  Her first reaction was that this space had plucked
directly out of the old 1930's, black and white film version of the
'Scarlet Pimpernel.' Then someone had colorized everything and moved
the room here.  There was a huge stone fireplace, what appeared to be
authentic antique furniture, and an exquisite chandelier, designed to
look as if it were lighted by candles instead of electric bulbs.
Moreover, the room still retained the dark and shadowed mood of the old
film despite the light provided by the fire and the chandelier.

It was then that Tina caught her first glimpse of the woman who had to
be the Maitresse Solange.  

If the room had been taken from a bygone age and a bygone style of
living, then the woman who sat enthroned therein seemed utterly at home
with both.  She was, in a word, magnificent.  In that era, and in that
lifestyle, this woman would clearly have been the undisputed matriarch
of the aristocratic family that made this place their ancestral home.

Maitresse Solange had taken as much or more care with her own costume
as she had directed for Tina.  Oddly, her dress covered her completely,
revealing only the skin of her face and hands, and yet, Tina wondered
to herself, had she ever seen a more femininely enticing dress?  The
answer was a resounding "No!"  La Maitresse had done both her face and
her hair in styles that appeared to fit the era evoked by the staging
around them both, but it was her cool, grey eyes that captured and held
Tina's attention.  

A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Solange's mouth, but that
instantly curled into a sneer.  "Well, girl, what are you waiting for?"

Startled by the snapped out question, Tina jumped and almost slipped,
but caught her balance at the last second.  "Pardonez-moi, Maitresse.
Vous me demandez?"

Tina was pleased to see the older woman momentarily hesitate at her use
of her barely recalled high school French, but Maitresse recovered
quickly.  "How many times must I tell you, girl, that not all my
friends speak French and that I expect you to speak English in my
employ?!?"

Tina flushed at the reprimand, and felt embarrassed at the imaginary
failure, such was the power of the older woman's personality.  How
would a maid react to this type of reprimand?  Okay, she thought, act
submissive - what else? - and use a bad accent.  

Holding her hands together in front of her apron, Tina replied
haltingly in her best, terrible-French accented English, "Pah-done
moi...  Me, please, Maitresse."

"And how many times have I told you to curtsy properly when you enter
my presence?"

Curtsy?  How the hell did a guy curtsy?  Tina thought frantically, her
mind going instantly blank.  Certainly, Ty had seen the movement done
numerous times on television or at the movies, but being a guy, he'd
been far too interested in checking out the girl doing the curtsy to
pay any real attention to HOW the curtsy was done.  Then she had a
flash of memory - that play during college - when Ty had been cast as
Cyrano! All the  actresses in that production had been required to
learn the movement, and Ty had watched them, hadn't he?

But HOW THE HELL HAD THEY DONE IT?  All she could remember was that the
girls had started out with their hands on their skirts and ended up in
a deep bow, with one leg bent at the knee, and the other one behind
them, with that knee almost touching the floor.  Or at least, she
thought that was how they ended up, but she had absolutely no idea how
they'd gotten there.

Crap, she thought, here goes nothing!  "Oui, Maitresse, Par-don me,
Maitresse," Tina replied as she took the hem of ridiculously short,
umbrella-like skirt with the fingers of each hand, and tried to achieve
the final position she recalled.

Unfortunately, sketchy memories, lack of any practical experience, the
inflexibility of that now seven-times cursed corset and gravity did her
in.  When she started to bend her back leg, she could not get any
purchase on the hard tile floor with the toe of the rigid high heeled
shoe and it began to slip.  At the same time, more of her torso became
involved in the bow than she'd intended because the corset wouldn't let
her bend anywhere except from the waist where the corset-busks ended.

She tried to catch herself, but what little she could do at that
particular tipping point just wasn't enough.  Gravity won, taking the
cross-dressed maid ignominiously down to the floor, face first, at the
feet of a very startled La Maitresse.  

Fortunately, it was more of a 'slide-down' than a fall-down, and the
foam and silicone of her fake boobs cushioned her impact so Tina was
unhurt.  More than a little embarrassed, but unhurt.  Looking to get
back to her feet as quickly as she could manage, Tina pulled her knees
under her and began to push herself up off the cold floor with her
hands.  She was surprised at what she saw in the older woman's face and
eyes when she'd recovered her feet.  

There was real concern there, and something that might even have been
fear.  Without knowing quite how she knew it, there was no doubt in
Tina's mind that Maitresse Solange was mere seconds from ending the
scene and thus, ending Tina's chance at the role in tomorrow's play.
Tina went with her gut, improvising to head off what she was certain
that La Maitresse intended, "Oh la la, je suis tres stupide!  My boo-
bays, zey weel be noire et bleu!" she whined as she suggestively cupped
and massaged their impressive bulk, all the while mentally cursing the
infernal shoes.

Tina saw the uncertainty linger in Solange's eyes, and knew she was
still considering whether they needed to stop due to possible injuries.
"Maitresse," Tina said softly, but firmly, "I am - how you say? - all
right.  It eeze ne pas necessaire pour moi to summon zee Bard Anglais."

Tina felt rather than saw the older woman give her a rapid but thorough
visual examination.  "Very well," Solange replied, her voice once again
firm and commanding, "I shall address these continuing failures of
yours with the housekeeper.  Rest assured, missy, you will not rest
comfortably for some time to come after she has dealt with you."

Tina's mind was suddenly working at a breakneck pace.  She realized
that, while she had prevented Solange's ending of the scene, she'd also
screwed up and broken character.  What had Juana said?  The whole point
of this exercise was to ensure she wouldn't break cover during the real
scene when the pressure was on.  

Then she realized something worse.  She wasn't and had not yet been in
character! Not really! Not the way an actor of her skill and training
SHOULD be in character! Hell, she was even thinking of herself as a guy
wearing a woman's costume - and for an actor of Tyrone Edward's
caliber, that was pretty damned pathetic, wasn't it?

*IDIOT!!* her mind sharply reprimanded, *You are Ma'amselle Tina - la
jolie maid francais, not M'seiur Tyrone, le petit actor.  Geet your
tete out of your cul and into zee role! Vite!*

Just then, a door that Tina had not yet noticed opened, admitting
ShaJuana.  "Solange?" she called out in a disgusted voice, "What slut
did your housekeeper assign to clean my rooms?  They're filthy!"

Solange turned back to glare at Tina, who was knew what was coming.  "I
believe that was you?" she asked, but it really was not a question.

Tina gulped, and then offered, "I weel go now, Maitresse, and clean eet
up right away!"

"NO, you will NOT! I called you here to serve, and serve you will.
THEN you will go do what you should have already done, and THEN, I will
... deal with you as you deserve."

"Oui, Madame," was the obsequious reply.

"Can't get good help these days," ShaJuana commiserated as she took the
other seat in the room.

"She was probably dallying with that new footman," Maitresse replied as
she swept back into her chair.  "You know these French whores - just
can't keep their mouths shut and their legs together."

"Mais Non, Maitresse!" Tina squeaked, blushing furiously and looking
very guilty, "Certainment, I deed not..."

"SILENCE!" the Maitresse thundered.  "I did not ask for any of your
sass, girl!  Well, we'll deal with THAT problem soon enough, Well,
don't just stand there, girl," she snarled back at Tina, "Serve the
tea!" and she indicated the tea tray and service on the table between
the two chairs.

"Oui, Maitresse," Tina replied as she picked up the unexpectedly heavy
silver tea pot.  She was a bit surprised to find that the tea was not
hot at all.  It was barely tepid, in fact, causing her to wonder if
she'd already taken too long for this act of the play.  

Shrugging mentally, she decided to press on and serve the tea, even if
it wasn't hot.  She'd seen tea served in the same play she'd watched
the girls learn to curtsy.  She only hoped that she'd learned that
lesson more effectively than she'd not learned to curtsy.  "Meelk and
shu-gaire, Mistress ShaJuana?"  Tina handed the teacup and saucer to
the lovely Amazon before turning to the hostess and asking "Et pour
vous, Maitresse?"

"Just lemon, girl.  And I believe I told you not to speak French.  Yet
another trespass we will soon expunge.  I think five lashes with the
birch for every word that is not in English will get to the seat of
your problem."

Tina shuddered visibly, but hurried to prepare the tea as ordered.  She
was just beginning to bow and offer the full cup to the Maitresse when
suddenly, something goosed her - right between the cheeks of her bum.
Squealing for real, Tina was instantly bolt upright and thrusting her
hips forward in a vain attempt to escape the intimate invader.  Her
sudden movement launched the full cup of tea upwards and directly into
her own face.

For several heartbeats, nothing happened.  Tina's mind was a blank and
she had absolutely no idea what to do next.  She just stood there
between the two watchful dominatrices, cold tea soaking her face and
wig, with her eyes starting to sting slightly from the lemony acidity
of the tea.  

She could only think of one response.

"Merde!"

"That is the LAST straw! I have had QUITE enough from you, you little
strumpet!" Tina found her self spun on heel so that she was facing
ShaJuana.  A sharp rap between her shoulder blades had her falling over
again, face-first, toward the chair.  Juana deftly caught her,
preventing the disoriented maid from ending up face-down in her
leather-clad lap, but then Tina felt her friend's strong grip shift
onto her wrists.  The next moment, ShaJuana was sitting on Tina's
hands, forcing her to bend over at the waist, her bottom protruding
behind her, and her stinging eyes and face lodged firmly in Juana's
cleavage.

RRRRrrrrriiiiippppppp!  The sound made Tina jump, but Juana's weight
and strength kept her immobile.  A draft across her backside told her
that, somehow, her panties had been torn away.

"Well, my goodness, Solange, no wonder she's such a poor maid," and
Tina's eyes crossed as something warm gently gripped and fondled her
freed erection.  "She's not even a maiden."

"So I see," was the catlike drawl from behind her.  Another hand
gripped her just above the testicles and pulled gently.  "Quite
a...well, an ... endowment for such a little maid."

"Well, take charge of these, please, ShaJuana," and Tina felt her
scrotum transferred between the two women so that ShaJuana held both
her cock and balls in hand.  "We wouldn't want them in the way of what
comes next," and the Maitresse's voice dropped in both volume and
pitch, becoming darkly husky and just a little menacing, "That is,
unless we decide we want them in the way, later on."

Out of the way?  Tina wondered, out of the way of WHAT?  Then, a hand
skimmed over her bare, taut buttocks and she knew what was coming next.
Hadn't Juana warned her?  "... a spanking's gonna be a 'for
certain'..."

SpppLAT!  

Tina jumped, trying to move her vulnerable derriere out of the line of
fire, but discovered that with her hands firmly restrained beneath
ShaJuana, she couldn't move all that far.  Moreover, when she tried to
move, Juana's firm grip immediately reminded that something really
important couldn't move with her.  Juana hold on her balls didn't
REALLY hurt, but her brain screamed that it could  A LOT!  So she went
very still, prepared to simply endure the spanking she still feared, if
that was what it took to protect her genitals.  

By the third or fourth swat, however, she had managed to control those
conflicting fear reactions sufficiently to realize that the spanking
was being delivered with far more bark than bite.  La Maitresse was
delivering the swats in a rhythmic, regular pattern, but with little
real force.  There was a little heat, a barely discernable sting, but
no real pain.  And once she no longer felt threatened by the spanking,
her attention returned to what was happening to her sex, which was, she
realized, the complete opposite of painful.  Her eyes crossed again at
the sensations ShaJuana's extremely skilled hands and fingers were
teasing out of Tina's body finally registered on the maid's overloaded
senses.

And then, the whole situation struck her funny bone.  God, it was
LUDICROUS! Here she was, on a damned movie set, for crying out loud,
with her face stuffed into the boobs of the most beautiful woman she
knew.  Her very bare ass was hanging out in the wind so that a woman
old enough to be her mother could whack at it with some type of
spanking paddle.  And her BEST friend in the whole world was giving her
the handjob of a lifetime.  Cripes, take away the overt sex and it was
like something out of an old slapstick movie short.  

Well, why not?  Hadn't Juana called this 'play', and told her to
improvise?  She was getting slapped, wasn't she?  Tina decided that she
would add the shtick and start to play, too.

"Ooo ooo, Madame!" she squealed, dancing on toes of her high heels as
much as she could without pulling too hard against Juana's hold on her.
"Ooo la la, ma pauvre petite derriere!" She tried shifting sideways,
and found she'd managed to get enough 'play' in ShaJuana's attachment
to the family jewels to take a swat on her left bottom cheek that
should have landed on her right.  She stamped her feet, squeaked,
squealed and in general, threw a hissy fit that would even have
embarrassed her diva baby sister, all the while using the most
atrocious French accent possible.  

That's when she started to sense the urgency building in her core - the
erotic tightening of muscle and flesh that signaled rapidly approaching
climax.  ShaJuana's increasingly delicate and knowing teasing of her
sex was incredible, and it had been so damned long since anyone other
than Merry Hand and her five sisters had done anything like that with
her!  It felt so GOOD!

God, she thought, what happens if she did cum?!?  What was she going to
do?  ShaJuana had her, quite literally, by the balls so she wasn't
going anywhere, even if she did free her hands.  And dammit, she
wouldn't want to escape even IF her hands and balls were suddenly free
because nothing in her recent experience had felt anything like this
wonderful.

Well, it certainly appeared to be inevitable, and just look where her
face was.  Beautiful woman playing with her sex, and that same
beautiful woman's gorgeous breasts just right there at mouth level.
Lost in the utter sensuality of the scene and her role in it, Tina
reached out her tongue and began licking the warm, humid flesh between
ShaJuana's incredible boobs.  At one point, when her nose butted up
against the line where the ebony amazon's catsuit ended and bare bosom
began, Tina felt the leather move, baring even more flesh! Without
stopping to think, she curled her tongue under the edge of the leather
garment and managed to catch it in her teeth.  Her next jump succeeded
in completely freeing Juana's left breast from the confines of the too-
tight catsuit.

Tina felt, rather than heard, Juana's surprised intake of breath at her
sudden wardrobe malfunction.  Immediately thereafter, the hand on her
penis disappeared, and there was something pushing her face back toward
the cavern of Juana's cleavage.  Out of her peripheral vision, she saw
the red-nailed hand struggling to get the leather bodice back where it
belonged, but that was futile.  It would take more than one hand to
capture all that gorgeous she-flesh and re-imprison it in the 'two-
sizes-too-small' bustier-bodice.  She felt her captor give a sigh, and
then the hand was back on Tina's erection, with a new determination and
increased intensity.

For her own part, Tina again had free movement of her face and not
surprisingly, found herself up close and personal to a large, dark-
chocolate nipple.  It was too much for her - she just had to know if it
was as tasty as it looked and took a lick.  One lick led to another and
another, and damned if Juana's nipple wasn't even tastier than she'd
thought it would be!  Tina couldn't resist just one little nibble.

Well, maybe a couple or three nibbles, along with a sucking caress or
two... 

"Eeeeekkkk!" ShaJuana shrieked and jumped, freeing Tina's hands and
pushing the lust-dazed maid-slave back from her chair.  Unfortunately
for Tina in her current state, that release had been just in time to
disrupt her OTHER release - the one Juana had been working so hard to
coax out of her.

The spanking also stopped, and Tina heard Solange's voice ask.  "What's
the matter?"

It was just too much for Tina - the swirling emotions, the suddenly
interrupted play and the sheer pleasure of the acting -just overwhelmed
her.  She started giggling.  

Solange, more imperious now, demanded again, "What HAPPENED?"

Juana, who was starting to have suspiciously laugh-like shudders coming
through her diaphragm, burst out, "The little bitch BIT me - right on
my nip!" and offering the bared globe in her hands, as if presenting it
for Solange's inspection.

"NON," Tina managed between giggling gasps, "Eeet was just - tee hee -
leetle neebles! Nosing more, I swear!"

ShaJuana and Maitresse looked at each other in disbelief, and then
began to giggle themselves.

Finally, the older woman managed to regain control enough to order,
"ShaJuana, get that wench out of my sight!  Have the housekeeper
oversee her cleaning your rooms with a birch rod.  I will deal with
this disobedient twit later when I have more time to get to the seat of
her problems."

Fighting back her own giggles, ShaJuana pushed Tina aside and rose to
her heel-augmented height.  "Certainly, Solange.  I might even do a bit
of direct supervision myself, if you take my meaning?"  Juana took a
moment to correct her maid-induced breast-baring before taking hold of
Tina's still erect manhood, and using it as a leash to lead the maid-
dressed male out of the room and back into the outer hall.

Once the door closed, ShaJuana's entire demeanor changed.  "You all
right?" she demanded, searching Tina's laugh-tear streaked face.

"I'm mostly okay, Juana," Tina said softly.  "Except now that the
adrenalin is wearing off, my eyes are starting to sting again from the
lemon in that tea, and it's a little drafty about the bottom without my
undies, but other than that, I'm okay.  I would like to rinse my eyes
out.  Is there a bathroom on this floor?"

Juana nodded, and indicated her friend should follow her.  "You okay
with what went down in there?" she asked as they walked down the hall,
unable to suppress the bubbling worry that gurgled up from her belly.
This was her best friend, and he'd just been stripped, gently in her
opinion, but stripped nonetheless, of what most American males would
consider to be their manly pride.

Sensitive to his friend's emotions, Ty reached an arm about the taller
woman.  "No problems here.  Not even as bad as shaking my booty the
first time for that director in the mind swap play.  I don't  figure
I'll be working here tomorrow, though.  I don't suppose many Mistresses
have giggle-fits in the middle of their scenes."

"Well, you just saw two of us have one even if I can't say it's ever
happened to me before.  I laugh sometimes, but usually when I do, I do
it for effect.  Having a bitch-goddess laugh at a sub is usually a
major mind-fuck for our guys."

Before either could say anything else, a disembodied voice from the
ceiling ordered, "ShaJuana, Mr. Edwards?  Would you please attend me in
my office?  Now?"

Ty recognized the voice of the Maitresse Solange.  "Guess it's time to
face the critic, Juana.  You know where this office of hers is?"

"'Course I do, boy.  Come on.  'Leastways we'll get you paid," she
said, her voice sad.



Acting Dominant
Interlude: The Critic's Review


The office was, in comparison to the playroom, rather modest -something
that any mid-level business manager who had just earned his or her way
out of the cubicles might have been assigned.  The furniture was simple
- a desk, two visitor chairs and a sofa along one wall.  The typical
paraphernalia of the corporate world were in their places including a
computer, printer, phone and fax.  Surprisingly, given that there had
not been time to change into more common garb, there were large windows
that looked out of the second floor room onto the street, and they cast
the room with golden, natural light.  For the first time since he'd
walked into the third floor playroom, Ty became aware of his dress, and
moreover, his lack of covering below the waist.

The sunlight streaming in through the windows made his sensitized eyes
sting even more, and they began to tear up again.  Sighing, he realized
he would not be able to make it through even a short meeting in this
condition.  "Maitresse Solange?  Is there a restroom?  I really need to
rinse the lemon juice out of my eyes.  They're still stinging and the
tears are blurring my vision."

"DAMMIT!" Solange snapped, causing Ty to back away.

"Well, if you'll just pay me, I'll leave you to..."

"No, no, no," the older woman broke in, clearly upset.  "You
don't...you CAN'T understand... " She paused, and then looked to
ShaJuana.  "Show him to my private washroom, dear, and then come back
here.  We all need to discuss that...experience and we might as well be
as comfortable as we can be, given the circumstances."

Having expected to be, at best, paid off and shown the door just as
quickly as could be managed, Ty was uncertain what it was the regal
dungeon owner felt they needed to discuss.  Whatever he'd anticipated
when he'd let himself consider what that little stage test might have
entailed, he'd been pretty far off the mark.  He shouldn't have gone
off like he did, but dammit, it had been fun! He hadn't had much fun
lately, and none that had called on his acting skills.

Returning to the office, the two friends were motioned to take seats in
the visitor chairs facing Solange's desk.  She considered him, and
quietly marveled at what she saw now as opposed to what she'd seen just
a short while earlier.  Part of it was that he'd removed the
petticoated skirt and replaced it with a towel from her washroom that
he'd wrapped about his waist, man-style, to cover his bare backside and
genitals.  And while he hadn't removed either the corset or the breast
inserts, he had taken the opportunity to clean away his tear-ravaged
makeup and remove the blond wig.  He was now, Solange observed, a man
wearing articles of feminine attire, where before, Tina had been very
much more than that.

Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Why didn't you safeword when you got
the lemon juice in your eyes?  I know ShaJuana explained the purpose of
that tool to you, and that lemon had to hurt, so why...?"

Ty considered the question and tried to remember what had happened
when.  "Couple of reasons, I guess.  First, and I'm being honest here,
I really do need the money that Juana indicated I might earn if I got
the gig working with you tomorrow.  Just before she left me, she told
me that if I said 'Shakespeare' during the scene, I wouldn't get the
role."

Solange nodded.  She'd expected that answer, but thought there was
more, and so she waited, and gave him time to continue.

He did.  "Then there was the time I fell trying to do that stupid
curtsy - I saw the concern on your face - and I was sure, somehow, that
you were about to call things off to make sure I hadn't hurt myself in
the fall."

"You'd be surprised the damage that can occur when someone who is
unused to such shoes falls and bends an ankle or worse," Solange
replied.  "But you say you saw concern?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  That's why I said we didn't need to talk about the
English Bard just then.  I was pretty sure you wouldn't have continued
just then, and well, the fact that you WERE concerned, made me start to
trust you.  Up to that point, the only person here I trusted at all was
Juana, and she wasn't even on stage yet."

"You got all that from just a momentary look," Solange murmured, "And I
thought I had more control."

"You're a very good actress, Ma'am," Ty hurried to reassure her, "it's
just that I'm a very good actor.  One of my strengths as an actor is
being able to react to unexpected situations that occur, and read my
fellow players, so that I can keep things together and moving forward."

"I see.  And that's why you didn't safeword, even when your eyes hurt?"

"Well," Ty drawled, and then a florid blush colored his features as he
cast a sidelong glance at ShaJuana lounging in the chair next to his.
"Umm, well, things happened pretty fast after I got, uh, prodded, and
got the face full of lemon-tea."

"That was the plan," Solange told him.  "We wanted to see if you could
keep things together if you were suddenly out of control."

"Right.  Anyway, the next thing I know, I am face down in Juana's...
umm, chest..."

ShaJuana went on alert, her eyes suddenly intense and fixed on Ty.
"And?" she asked, drawing the word out.

Ty looked down, his face still bright red in embarrassment.  "I liked
it there," he managed to choke out.  "I liked it a lot more than I
didn't like my eyes burning.  I didn't want to quit.  I figured if you
really spanked me, and I cried?  The tears would wash out the acid
quickly enough."

ShaJuana burst out laughing and Solange could only shake her head.  "It
was never my intent that the spanking should be that intense, Mr.
Edwards.  Truth to tell, my intent was that you would orgasm to show
that this type of play could be both fun and rewarding."

"Kinda figured that out, too, when Juana was so intent on playing with
my, ah, that is, Tina's erection."

"Ty-RONE, you made me feel bad.  I figured I'd have you off in no
time!"

Ty laughed.  "Actually, it was all I could do not to shoot, Juana, but
it was close for a few seconds there.  If you hadn't stopped when you
did, well, it would have been all over for me and, ah, all over you."

"Excellent discipline, Mr. Edwards," Solange complimented him, "but why
did you need it?"

The laugh he gave was self deprecating.  "Like I said, I liked where I
was, and figured that would be the end of Juana's hand job.  Besides,
there was ..."

"There was WHAT, Ty-RONE?" the ebony goddess demanded, still smarting
that he hadn't succumbed to her determined ministrations.

At the confused look from both women, Ty shrugged.  "I've read a few
Penthouse Letters in my time, so I know what gals like you do to guys
dressed up like me who climax without permission."

Howls of feminine laughter answered his admission while he sat there,
trying for what small dignity he might still manage.  "You thought we'd
make you clean up your, ah, semen with your tongue," Solange said, when
she'd managed to calm down.  "You know, I hadn't even considered that
possibility since I knew you weren't really a player."

"I'd have made you do it, Ty-RONE," ShaJuana threatened, still miffed. 
"I'm right fond of this outfit and I'd be real unhappy having your
nasty ol' cum-stains on it."

Smiling when she saw the young man blush furiously at ShaJuana's
teasing, Solange asked, "Would you have safeworded in that event, Mr.
Edwards?"

She saw that he nearly knee-jerked out his answer, but was pleased when
he caught himself and began to consider his response more carefully.
Thinks before he speaks, too, she told herself.  Doesn't that pose some
interesting possibilities?  

Finally, he gave a half shrug, and looked her directly in her eyes,
which also surprised the regally imposing dominatrix.  Most men in her
experience, dressed as he was and especially after having just been
through what she had done to him, would not have been able to hold her
gaze that evenly.  

"The honest answer is I really don't know.  Right now, or before we'd
started?  If you had asked me if I'd use that safeword-thing against
having to do something like that?  The answer would be 'Not only yes,
but hell, yes!' Anything to keep from having my nose shoved into that
... stuff.  That's beyond anything I'd considered having to do here, or
what I thought I'd be willing to do for you.  But you didn't ask me
that ahead of time."  He paused again, clearly choosing his words for
what he had to say next.  "In that room, at the time it would have been
an issue?  When I'd finally managed to get into the character of that
role as the cross-dressing male-submissive maid?" He started to say
something more, hesitated and then shook his head.  "I am just not sure
how Tina would have reacted."

"Hmm, interesting how you put that.  'How TINA would have reacted', not
'how I would have reacted.'  Being in-role consumes you that totally
that you can speak of yourself and Tina as separate persons?" Solange
observed softly, "It would seem you are quite an actor, indeed."

"Oh, I can put a big 'Hell-yeah' on that for you, Solange," Juana put
in.  "When Ty is in a role, I mean REALLY in a role?  It's ...
awesome." 

And that was awe in the younger woman's voice, Solange thought.  "I
see."

"I believe that I am good at my art, Ma'am," Ty said, without arrogance
or artifice, Solange noted.  "You know, Juana, there's something else,
too.  What would have  happened if I'd given that code, and said 'stop
this - it's all over.' That's what this safeword-thing means in this
context, right?"  

When both women nodded, he continued.  "That's not natural to me.  I
mean, you don't get to safeword out of doing something that might be
personally embarrassing to you when its called for by the script of a
play - you just figure out how to do what the script and the director
says you have to do or you go find another line of work.  Back there?
When we were on stage?  It just wouldn't have occurred to me because
you can't do that and be an actor.  I'd have fought hard not to cum, I
think, but not very effectively.  Juana's pretty good at ... ummm...
what she was doing, so I was pretty limited in my options.  And I was
'in character.'  Yeah, I'd might have ended up wearing a bunch of my
own semen on my face, but I wouldn't have thought to say
'Shakespeare.'"

"I find that quite remarkable, Mr. Edwards.  Were you an experienced
submissive or even a switch, I'd understand that response, but it is
clear you are neither.  What were you doing in there?  What sustained
you when things went so ... so off?"

Ty grinned.  "Like Juana said - I was an actor embracing his character.
Before she left me outside the room, she told me this would be improv,
that is, improvisational acting, so I went with the flow and
improvised.  I'm sorry I didn't react as you expected, but I did do the
best I could with my limited and admittedly skewed knowledge of your
scenes and stuff.  Guess I won't be coming back tomorrow," he added
finally.

Solange almost told him that he would not be brought back, and then
caught herself.  He was right, he didn't know enough about the
Dominance and Submission scene to react in the ways she'd expected, but
he'd done all right for all that.  And he SAW things - sensed things
during the interplay of people and emotions that surprised her.  He had
an innate empathy she'd never encountered in a male before, and in very
few women.  He might be an asset at that.  Certainly, few men looked
that good when dressed as women - a little more training and with the
right costuming, he'd pass almost anywhere she wanted him to pass.  

And surprise the hell out of another client or two of hers when she
DIDN'T want him to pass.  That ability would definitely be an asset to
her little business.

Definite possibilities.  She'd know tomorrow, after they tried the
scene with Juana's client.  If he did well then, and things went well? 
Possibilities might well abound.  

Besides, she thought, glancing at the tall girl seated next to the
corseted boy, she had other motivations in this regard, didn't she?  

"No, I still want you for that scene tomorrow.  I think we can set
things up nicely so that Billie will have an experience he'll never
forget.  That is, Mr Edwards, if after our little experience today you
think you can handle being in on the other side of the scene."

"I'd like to try, Ma'am," he replied carefully.  "The simple fact is I
really do need the money, and as long as this isn't illegal, and
nobody's getting hurt, I'd like to try."

"Very well, then, we have an agreement.  When we're on this floor, Mr.
Edwards, you have my leave to call me Solange.  Upstairs, I am
Maitresse unless I tell you otherwise on a case-by-case basis."

"Yes, Ma' ...umm, Solange.  And please, all me Ty, unless I'm Tina at
the time," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Scamp!" she laughed, before looking to ShaJuana.  "Dear, if you would,
please get this wretch cleaned up and take him to the deli downstairs
for lunch - charge it to my account.  Then take him home and give him
the script for tomorrow.  Work out how much you'll let him actually
participate and when you will spring his trap on Billie.  Be here
tomorrow at 9:00 AM to clear everything with me."

"Sure 'nuff, Solange - see you tomorrow," the ebony goddess said as she
rose to her feet.  "C'mon Ty-RONE! Hope you like good Kosher corned
beef!"

They were almost to the door when Solange remembered she'd meant to ask
him.  "Mr. Edwards?  One last question before you leave?  Where ever
did you learn that movement you THOUGHT was a curtsy?"

That earned a chuckle from the young actor.  "I played Cyrano De
Bergerac in a college production.  The girls all learned to curtsy -
like they were at court, or something.  Well being a guy, you tend to
watch pretty girls doing things like that when you get the chance, but
I never actually had to do one myself."

"Cripes, Ty, didn't you ever see the little bob-curtsy all the female
servants do in the old black and white movies?" Juana was bubbling with
mirth now.  "You idiot, you were a servant, not some lady being
presented to a queen or king!"

"Oh my God, I knew that!" he muttered.  "I played Bunter in "Clouds of
Witness" for, hell, three months of summer stock once and the damn maid
did just that half a dozen times a night.  I'm sorry, I should have
done better than that." 

"Hey, you were a little distracted at that moment," Juana started to
soothe, but she was cut off when the older woman stood, and raised a
hand in a clear command for silence.  

Ty watched as Solange's face somehow transformed, until it was the
austere aristocrat from the upstairs room who faced him.  "I see," she
said quietly, and then her voice became stern.  "Tina, curtsy when you
leave my presence."

Caught off guard, Ty goggled.  "Huh?"

"I... SAID ... CURTSY, MAID!" Solange was not actually yelling, but the
impact was the same.

Tina started to bob a curtsy, but the towel Ty had wrapped about her
waist started to fall, and she tried to catch it.

"Leave it!" the Maitresse ordered, and Tina let the towel slip to the
floor, leaving her bottom and sex bared once more.  "Now, give me your
curtsy!"

"Oui, Maitresse," Tina squeaked, and bobbed the little curtsy Ty had
seen 'half a dozen times a night for three months."

"Better, but not good enough.  You will also practice that under
ShaJuana's supervision today so that you can do it per-fect-ly," and
she enunciated each syllable as if each were a complete word, "for me
tomorrow.  Is that clear?"

"Oui, Maitresse," and Tina couldn't stop the reflex to bob another
curtsy to this powerful, authoritative woman.

"Is that clear, ShaJuana?" and her gimlet eye focused its power on the
tall black woman.

"Clear, Maitresse.  She'll be spot-on perfect at it tomorrow.  Trust
me."

"See to it.  Then that concludes our business today.  Be off with you
both.  I have work I must finish before I leave for the day."

And it wasn't only Tina/Ty who breathed a sigh of relief when the door
to Solange's office closed behind their departing backs.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 6: The Scene from Both Sides Now
By Tigger c2008


"OH - MY - GOD! Can you make it any TIGHTER?!?"

Amused, Solange looked into the mirror so she see eye-to-eye with Ty's
reflection.  "Yes, if you like."

"Heavens, no! Ummm, Are we there, yet?" Ty asked in a softer, less
aggressive voice.

Solange came out from behind Ty to give him a thorough once-over, as he
dangled from her corseting trapeze, his toes a few inches off the
floor.  Excellent, she thought smugly.  She'd gotten a good two inches
more off his waist than ShaJuana had managed.  That combined with the
high quality faux-breasts she'd glued to his chest, gave him the
illusion of a nicely feminine figure without the necessity of a girdle,
or the hip and butt padding.  Yes, he'd do quite nicely, she thought.
"You'll do."

"Then, please, may I get down and get loose?  PLEASE?"

"Oh, if you insist." A flick of a switch lowered him until his four-
inch high heels were again on the floor, whereupon Solange pulled loose
the Velcro strap holding his right wrist, leaving the left one for Ty
to undo.  "Over here," she ordered, indicating a three-panel, floor-to-
ceiling mirror, "Let's have a look at you."

He obeyed, managing the ridiculous heels quite well for someone who'd
first worn such things only two days before.  Not all of the Solange's
selected costuming was visible on the blond reflection.  She'd decked
him out in a satin garter belt and black, full fashion stockings to go
with the black patent leather, open-toed heels.  She'd specified the
open-toed shoes just to be wicked, because that had given her the
excuse to require toe-nail polish - bright RED toe-nail polish.
Carefully selected undergarments kept fake and real parts under
control, enhancing the illusions of cleavage while assuring a smooth
skirt front.  A white peasant blouse, also intended to show off
cleavage while hiding the arms, and a very short skirt completed the
costume.  Solange was particularly pleased to see how much bare white
leg flesh was exposed above the stocking tops and below the skirt's
hem.  Perfect.

"Come with me," Solange ordered, and led him up to her surveillance
room on the dungeon floor.  Inside, they watched Juana beginning to
work her client.  She already had him bound -face down, laying
lengthwise on a coffee table.  Both ends of him were dangling - with
his knees on the floor on one side of the table and his head hanging
over the other.

They had time to talk, Solange thought.  Good.  "All right, you know
the goal of Juana's scene-plan?"

Ty nodded.  "She wants him to get all excited about a two Mistress-
scene, and then find out that I'm not female.  Evidently she is known
for, well, using sex toys on her clients' butts, and I'm supposed to
spring a real one on him he wasn't planning on."

"Correct, and we want to spring it on him when he's fully erect.  Do
you know why?"

Ty blushed, the color evident even through the thick layer of
foundation Solange had used on him.  "Ummm, well..."

"SPEAK CLEARLY, young man!" Solange commanded sharply.

"As ShaJuana explained it, this fellow is rather, umm, proud of his
masculine endowment... "

"You mean he thinks he has a big cock and is smug about it!" Solange
interrupted.  "Start thinking and talking like the bitch you're
supposed to be when you go in there! Part of your job is to tease and
then humiliate him verbally! You won't do that using words from your
tenth grade health or English classes."

"Right, he's a arrogant sonuvabitch with a big prick who thinks he's
cock of the walk.  When Juana gives me the sign, I show him mine."

"Exactly."

"Maitresse?" Ty asked, his voice uncertain.  

"Yes, Mr. Edwards?"

"Juana called this a mind fuck.  What is going to happen in there?
After I go in and show him my...ummm, dick?"

Solange felt her stomach clench.  "We didn't discuss that with you, did
we?" she asked, very softly.  How could they have forgotten he had no
idea what happened in these scenes.  "We don't have much time before
your entrance.  Recall please what you learned yesterday about
safewords?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  Is that the goal of this?  To make him safeword?"

"No.  We'd never intentionally do that with a submissive in our
keeping.  That would mean we'd violated his limits which might harm him
and would definitely damage my house's reputation - even if it were
unintentional.  However, sometimes we do push those limits very hard,
and use another safety tool in such cases.  Let me explain the concept
of a caution word to you... "

~-~

Tina slipped into the playroom, and called out, "Hey Juana, what's
happening?"

The ebony Domina turned to face the door, a huge smile on her face.
"Hey, Tina!  Oh, nothin' much.  Just an asshole male with a big ego who
needs some attitude adjustment."

Tina strutted over and stood beside the taller woman, and considered
the straining submissive fighting futilely against the cuff and chain
restraints that held him tightly against the table.  She saw the man's
buttocks and thighs were already a pale pink and that something - one
of those plug things - was sticking out from between his asscheeks.
"Dealing directly with the problem, I see," Tina offered.

"Yeah - fool male thinks that because he has a fairly decent sized cock
he's something special.  I'm about to show him different!  Anything he
can do with that thing of his, I can do better, harder and LONGER with
MINE!" and she hefted the black strap-on she wore about her loins for
Tina to admire.

"Nice one!  Sounds like fun," Tina replied.  "Mind if I watch?"

"Sure - have a seat, and I'll show you how to unfuck a male's head by
fucking his ass!"

"Well, I'll just make myself comfortable and watch the Mistress work
her magic," Tina said, as she moved a chair so that it was directly in
front of the bound man's dangling head.  Once she was seated, she
crossed her legs slowly, dangling her shoe no more than an inch from
his nose.

~-~

Somehow, Juana'd managed to get her strapped-on toy into her client's
backside without him screaming, and was now deep stroking him with such
force that each in-stroke pushed his nose into the open toe of Tina's
dangling shoe.  He was groaning in deep pleasure now, and straining
against his bonds to meet each stroke half way.  Tina saw Juana signal
her, and nodded her understanding.

"I don't know, Juana," Tina spoke up, "I don't see how you're going to
teach him anything when the little slut is enjoying everything you're
doing  I mean, the bitch even has a hard-on!.  Why, I think he must
misbehave just to have you work his ass over for him.  Maybe you need
to get something bigger to make your point?"

"Maybe, but we ain't got nothin' bigger on hand to do that."

"It isn't THAT big," Tina retorted.  "Hell, you want to use mine?"

"You got one to put the fear of Mistress in this slut?" Juana asked,
with a particularly firm stoke.

"Oh, yeah, I do."

"Well, hell, girl, go get it!"

Tina stood up, and unsnapped the back of her gaff.  "Don't need to go
get anything, darlin'  - I always have mine on me," she said as she
popped out her semi-erect penis from beneath her skirt.  Making sure
she was no more than a foot from the man's stunned face, she began to
stroke herself to full arousal, using the catsuited perfection of
ShaJuana Price's body for 'inspiration.'  "Gonna let me have a turn
back there, Juana?"

"Why sure, ..."

"LEMONADE!!" Billie-the-Client yelped, interrupting both women.

Juana gave him a sharp slap on his ass.  "You say somethin' , asshole?"
she demanded.

"Yes, Mistress, Lemonade - I can't  - no, please don't, ..."

"I guess we'll wait a bit for that, Tina."

Tina sat back down heavily, lounging with one leg hanging over the
chair's padded arm, splaying her legs wide so that her erection was
'eye-to-eye' with the bound submissive.  "That's no fair!" she pouted. 
"I want to play with him, too!  You said I could!"

~-~

With the immediate threat of Tina's entry into the fray (and into
Billie) allayed - at least momentarily - the highly skilled Juana soon
had her client lost in pleasure once again, moaning aloud and begging
her to go "Harder, Mistress, please!"  Tina merely sat in front of him,
keeping herself erect for when he opened his eyes.

"Is it MY turn YET?" she demanded when Juana signaled again.

Juana never got a chance to answer because, evidently, Billie wasn't as
out of it as they thought.  "Lemonade!" he yelped again, clearly
wanting NO part of Tina's larger-than-his-own, very real endowment.
This earned Tina a grin and a thumbs-up from Juana.

"Nah, not now.  I'm having too much fun myself.  Maybe another time,
Tina.'

Tina jumped to her feet, her erect penis barely missing the cringing
sub's eye as she leaned over him to get into Juana's face.  "THAT'S NOT
FAIR!" she yelled furiously, "If I can't have my turn, I'm going HOME!"
With that, Tina spun on her heels to leave, careful to ensure her cock
swiped Billie firmly across the cheek as she turned.

As she sailed out of the room, she heard what sounded remarkably like
the sounds Ty made just as surrendered to his climax after a protracted
session of hot and heavy sexual stimulation.

~-~

She was met outside the door by a smiling Solange.  "You did GREAT!
You had him really going! He practically moved the table when he came,
and it's bolted to the damned floor!  Hell, he almost unseated Juana,
he came so hard!  We're going to be YEARS trying to top that one for
him!  Come with me and we'll get you out of that corset.  Juana will
finish up with him in another fifteen minutes or so, and then we can
talk about what happened in there."

~-~

"I can't believe we forgot to explain caution words to you," Juana
muttered for the fourth time since she'd joined them in Solange's
little office.  "You really thought I was going to try to get him to
stop-light us?"

"You said 'code-word' whenever we talked about it, and that's the only
code-word I knew about," Ty replied, relaxing in the floor-length
bathrobe Solange had provided after getting him out of the corset.

Solange smiled ruefully over her tea cup at the two younger people.
"Just goes to show what can happen when you assume everyone already
knows all the nuances.  Normally, the distinction between caution and
safe words is learned during a newbie's first or second visit to one of
my Mistresses, during the very extensive pre-scene negotiation script I
require of them.  Since you weren't really a client, I stupidly forgot
to put you through that."

"Well, we got what we wanted.  Billie plunked down a thousand dollar
bonus for that scene before he left.  I'm splittin' that fifty-fifty
with Ty-RONE, here," ShaJuana said, stretching out her long legs in
front of her and pointing her stocking-ed toes.  Ty nearly wished he
was still wearing the gaff, and hurriedly crossed his legs to hide what
was suddenly growing between them.

"So, tell me, Ty.  Would you consider taking a position here - at my
dungeon - on a more regular basis?"  Solange asked quietly.

Caught off-guard by the offer, Ty spun about to stare at the older
woman.  "Me?  Work here?  Doing what?  More of what we did today?
After what almost happened?"

"Ty, any problems or near problems that occurred today were not your
fault, and in fact, because you asked the right questions at the right
time, they didn't even happen.  You did well today, and I believe, you
have the potential to do a good deal more, as well.  Are you willing to
learn more about what we do here?  Because that will be the first step
so you can make informed decisions.  Before you answer, let me caution
you - I'm talking about practical experiential learning under the whip-
hands of my very skilled, very STRICT Mistresses.  Very little of what
I anticipate you will need to learn will be even half so gentle as
today's or yesterday's play.  However, if you are willing, I will offer
you a flat salary of twice your monthly rent, plus event fees for those
instances you work with a client.  You won't be paid the extra fees for
scenes that are conducted purely to train you or to prepare you for an
event.  The extra pay will only occur when you directly assist one of
my Mistresses in working with a paying client."

"How much time will I have to be here to earn that?  I'd still want to
be able to audition for any roles that I think suit my talents."

"I'll want forty hours a week.  Unless something comes up, I'll expect
you to work Monday through Wednesdays from 8:00 AM to 2:00 PM, and
Thursdays and Fridays from 2:00 PM to 8:00 PM.  In addition to that, I
will expect you to work at least one six-hour shift on either Saturday
or Sunday which are usually our busier days.  There's a great deal of
cleanup and stage setting that needs be done before and after each
session, and the Mistresses can use all the help you can give them in
that regard.  In addition to whatever grunt work I give you to do
during those hours, we'll plan your training sessions so that they
occur during your normal weekday working hours.  You will be available
on twenty four hours notice for events.  If I need you on short notice,
you'll get a bonus if you can make it.  We'll start with a two month
trial period for both of us to decide if this is working.  At the end
of that time, we will mutually decide whether we want to continue our
relationship.  Does that meet with your approval?"

"I guess I'm going to spend a lot of my time here in skirts, heels and
girlie underwear, right?"

"Is that going to pose a problem?"  Solange was crossing her fingers
beneath the desk.  "Obviously, you do it very well, and I would like to
exploit that capability to both our profit."

"A role is a role, and costumes are costumes.  I can handle it."

"Then we have an agreement?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  Thank you."

"I believe I told you that you were to call me Solange when we are not
in a scene?"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: It's My Party and They'll Cry If I Want to...


Solange had rushed through her post-scene toilette and she was STILL
late.  She hated being late under any circumstances, but most
especially under circumstances such as the present.  Tyrone was making
a special effort to accommodate her schedule by attending her after his
normal workday and without the advanced warning she'd promised to give
him.  It didn't matter that she was going to pay him time and a half
for sitting outside her office - it was the principle of the thing.
Tardiness was rude, and she was never rude - at least, never without
good reason.

Ty was waiting for her, leaning against the doorjamb of her outer
office.  Smiling, he came over to her, and much to her amusement, made
a great deal out of bending over her hand and making as fine a leg to
her as could any courtier of an earlier time.  "Told you I could do
it," he said, his eyes twinkling as he looked up into her eyes after
rising.

"So, as with most social courtesies, it takes more talent and skill to
be female?"

"Perhaps, although I'm not sure I'm any more ready to make that
particular movement in heels and a corset than I was to do that formal
curtsy wearing them."

Solange laughed, and beckoned him into her office, whereupon they got
down to business.  "I don't see much problem with your Halloween party,
Solange.  It will be no problem to handle the food and drinks.  I'm not
sure what to plan for the D/s play entertainments you told me are part
of it, but..."

"I can think of one I'd like to do," she half muttered, half growled,
surprising Tyrone.

"What did you say, Solange?"

Annoyed at herself for being unable to let go of the just completed
scene, she sighed.  "Nothing, Ty.  I'm just out of sorts because I'm a
little disappointed with the submissive I was working before I came
here.  He's why I was late."

Ty nodded.  "You said that you knew an entertainment you'd like to do. 
I assume it is something to do with this fellow?"

Solange sat back in her executive office chair.  "Not that I could, but
it is a lovely fantasy, nonetheless," she said wistfully.

"Why can't you do it?  I thought fantasy come safely to life is what we
do here?"

"My, you have been listening," she replied, amused approval in her
tone.  "But this is my fantasy and I don't see how, under our code of
ethics and safety, we could pull it off.  I mean, I think he has the
same fantasy, but he won't admit to having it."

"Umm, Solange?  You need to remember that I really am the 'newbie' that
you and all the girls delight in calling me.  What are we talking
about?"

"This client that I just finished with?  He's what you could call an
attention slut.  He gets off on some fairly intense humiliation play
because it makes him the center of attention, only he insists that it
can only be done to him in strict privacy.  He needs ME because without
me his fantasy doesn't work - he can't or rather, won't humiliate
himself by himself so someone has to do it to him.  Moreover, he trusts
me because he knows that I will, if you will pardon the cliche, still
respect him after having done the dirty deed."

"Sounds like you're giving him good value and service for his money.
So, what's the problem?"

"You make me sound like a damned insurance salesman, Ty! Giving good
value and service, indeed!" she flared.  Solange knew she was getting
agitated, but she didn't care.  It was Ty's fault for being so
sensitive and for somehow able to pull it out of her.  "The problem,"
she said darkly, "is threefold.  First, and foremost, I am NOT a god-
damned insurance salesman.  This is NOT just a job to me because I
don't need a damned job.  I do this because I LOVE it and because
dominating my partners satisfies something intrinsic to my very
nature."

Ty nodded understandingly.  "I have sort of figured that out, but how
is that a problem here?"

"Smartass - don't think I don't know what you're trying to do, and it
won't work!  I'm going to stay angry about this for a while!  And don't
think I won't remember that bit of impertinence when I provide your
next lesson!" she threatened, grinning wickedly.  

Then she became serious again."Everything I've learned in more than
twenty years of playing these head games with the male of the species,
and more specifically, everything I've learned about this particular
male in the, oh, four years he's been my client, leads me to believe he
truly wants to take his play to the next level, to some sort of at
least semi-public play situation - like a play party, okay?  I mean,
when we play together, just the barest hint that I might require
something public of him and both his mouth and cock literally drool!
There's a saying among women that a hard-on doesn't lie, but every time
I so much as think too loudly about involving even ONE other person in
one of these humiliation sessions, even another DOMME he KNOWS?  Then
the sonuvabitch safewords me!  So I have to stop, and he learns NOTHING
from the experience.  He just gets his physical and emotional rocks off
and I get NOTHING back for all my efforts! He just sucks me dry
emotionally and leaves me exhausted.  More than once, I've come within
a breath of telling him to find another Mistress."

"If it is that difficult and that draining for you, why haven't you
done that?  Maybe another woman could get him over that hump, or at
least, not care about anything beyond the payoff at the end of the
scene."

"Send him to the Mistress equivalent of our insurance salesman, you
mean?" Solange tossed her hair angrily and her dark eyes flashed.
"Like hell!  He's one of mine now! But in a roundabout way, that brings
me to my last point.  I am a Mistress, dammit! A skilled and, I hope,
caring Domina! Beyond the play and erotic aspects of my craft, my goal
in this role is to help the submissives in my care overcome false
limits they impose on themselves because they're like children afraid
of the dark!  So that they see they can be more than they are letting
themselves be.  That is the most fulfilling aspect of my vocation:
helping my submissives grow!  Only... he... won't... let... me.  HELP
his sorry ass!"  

She realized she was yelling, and caught herself back.  "My apologies,
Ty.  That outburst was... uncalled for."

"No apologies needed for me, Sounds like you're owed a few, though.
Feel better for having said it?"

Wearied by the emotional upheaval immediately after the emotionally
draining scene, she sighed.  "Somewhat."

The young actor reached into his pocket and pulled out a snowy white
handkerchief that he offered across to Solange.  "Here, wipe your tears
and blow your nose.  Tell me, does this guy have any wishes that you've
not fulfilled to date?  Ones you could have done, but just haven't yet?
Or is this humiliation gig the only thing he's interested in doing?"

"No, not really.  He also likes bondage and corporal sessions, too, so
long as there isn't a humiliation aspect to the play.  He'd like a
scene with several of the girls all ganging up on him at once, but he
can't afford that here - at least he can't afford that and get his
regular humiliation fix from me!  And I'm not giving him a break there
because that's the only way I get back ANYTHING for what he takes from
me when we scene."

"Hmmm...  Do you have any parlor games at these parties?"

Solange considered that.  "Well, we don't have dunking for apples or
anything of that nature.  Sometimes, one or two of the Mistresses have
their lifestyle subs put on little informal shows, and if we have any
new equipment or devices in the dungeon, we might demonstrate them.
And many of our regular guests tend to favor rather outre costuming,
but other than that, it's a fairly ordinary adult party.  Dancing,
conversation, buffet snacks - that sort of thing.  Later in the
evening, a few of the upstairs playrooms might get used, but we monitor
that pretty carefully to make sure no one is dominating or submitting
while intoxicated or gets into something they aren't equipped to
handle."

"So, I could have, say half the upstairs?  The third floor, I mean?"

"I don't see why not.  What is going on in that cute little head of
yours, Tyrone?"

"Well, back home?  Dad used to set up a House of Horrors for the
neighborhood kids in one of the warehouses at the plant.  He'd rig
these partitions up - make a maze out of it with all kinds of ghosts
and skeletons and stuff.  On Halloween night, he'd turn off the lights
and let the kids go in, one at a time - the ones who made it to the
other side got a dollar, and the fastest one got five dollars.  The
ones who didn't make it out got candy.  Maybe we could stage something
like that upstairs..."

"Ty, look at the invitation list - counting staff, other local
Mistresses and guests, we could have upwards of two hundred guests."

"We wouldn't want everyone to play, so we'd have to have a drawing but
rig it so that this guy got one of the chances to go through the maze. 
Your guy and maybe three or four others," Ty's words were soft,
contemplative, as he staged the scene in his mind's eye.  "If they make
it through in under the time limit, or if they complete their forfeit
for failing, they win a scene of their choice... Hmmm... how do we make
them not want to quit after they try for the carrot?  We'll need a
stick... lots of them here..."

"TY!!" Solange's voice broke in sharply.  "I AM still here, young man,
and those are my, uh, sticks you're mumbling about.  What type of Cecil
B.  DeMille extravaganza is stirring up in that head of yours?!?"

Ty grinned rakishly, and Solange felt a catch in her throat.  No wonder
ShaJuana moons over him, she thought.  "Can I think about it a bit and
give you a staging plan?" At her reluctant nod, he continued.  "And
tell me, is there any other player here you'd really like to nudge?  If
this works, we could probably do two real contests out of the four.
More than that and the attendees might see through the setups."

"Well," Solange considered, and an image of another of her favorites
came unbidden to Solange's mind, and what she had not yet dared do with
and for him.  Was this the opportunity she'd been looking for?  Could
Ty help her pull this off?  In just the short time he'd been here, she
had seen in him demonstrate a remarkable ability for staging and
directing action in a scene.  She'd worried that she'd never figure out
a way to solve this particular tangle, but maybe..."Ty, there is this
fellow who visits here on a regular basis, and he hasn't missed one of
my parties since he first became a client..."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: Last Minute Costume Adjustments


Solange listened to the phone, a satisfied smile on her face.  "Yes,
that will do quite satisfactorily."  Listening again, she made a quick
check of her appointment calendar, and nodded to herself.  "Yes, 9:30
will work for me.  Very well.  Please don't be late as my schedule is
quite tight.  Thank you for working this in for me.  Good day."

She hung up the phone and made a few notes on her calendar.  She had
just finished when there was a knock on her office door.  Checking her
wristwatch, she smiled.  Punctual as always.  "Yes?" she called out.
"Come in."

Ty stuck his head in and asked, "You wanted to see me, Solange?"

She nodded and indicated he should take a seat.  "You're scheduled to
assist Mistress Isolde tomorrow." It wasn't a question.  "Are you clear
on what she intends to do with her client and what your role will be
for the scene?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  She's going to be the female executive with a submissive
male subordinate.  She'll work him over in the near privacy of her
office - I've already got that play room set up and she's approved
everything - and I'm her nosy secretary who keeps interrupting at
inconvenient moments to get things signed, get appointments approved,
and so forth.  At some point, she'll give me a signal and I will notice
his semi-nudity and things will move on from there with Mistress Isolde
directing us both."

"She is aware of your limits, I trust?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  ShaJuana has been tutoring me on how and when to do that
ever since I got my buns scalded by DeeDee.  Basically, she can touch
me, but he can't, and I won't touch him in any sexual manner or at all
below his waist before or after my real gender is revealed to him.
Mistress Isolde can spank me, or use the rubber flogger on me, but
nothing more serious.  I'm still a little gun-shy about whips and crops
and the like."

"I think those are fair limits, given your background and current
comfort level with what we do here at the dungeon.  Ty, you aren't here
for the reasons others are.  You're here because you have useful skills
and an open mind that allows me to make use of those skills in a, shall
we say, irregular manner."

That elicited a chuckle from Ty, "I'll tell the world."

"Yes, well the point I'm trying to make here," she said repressively,
"Is that both my clients and my ladies are here, doing what we do here,
because it fulfills a deep, emotional and physical need for them  top
or bottom, Mistress or slave."

"Ummm... even ShaJuana?" Ty asked before he could stop himself.  He'd
always thought she'd gotten into this for the money, to tide her over
between acting gigs.

"Even ShaJuana," Solange affirmed.  "Tyrone, you've seen Mistress
ShaJuana in action here in my dungeon.  Do you doubt that she is
enjoying herself hugely, regardless of how much work and effort it
takes for her to do this thing properly?.  Do you truly think she'd be
as good as she is if she didn't like dominating males?"

"I take your point," Ty said quietly, promising himself he'd consider
that point in much more depth later.  "And I'm not like that, I guess."
He finished, wondering if that was really true.

"Well, you don't appear to mind doing what we've asked of you all that
much, so long as we recognize and stay within your limits.  My concern,
however, is that you've been essentially thrown into the deep end of
the pool with very little in the way of training and experiences.  What
might or might not be a limit may well change the more you experience
and the more you are trained.  Your limits will and should evolve, and
you need to be aware of them at all times so that you avoid situations
that could, even by accident, violate them."

"I understand that it would be bad for the client," Ty observed.

"Having someone break a limit is bad for everyone involved, including
the Mistress and especially for the one whose limit is violated.  That
makes people stop playing this way out of fear, or out of other darker,
worse emotions.  For those of us who do this because it fulfills
something in our basic nature, that's a very great loss.  I do not want
that happening to you or to anyone who is playing or working with you,
so I'm going to require something of you that was not part of our
original agreement.  You will do it outside your normal weekday hours
here.  Keep track of the time you spend on this task.  I will pay you
for the time."

"Okay, what do you want from me, Solange?"

"I would like you to keep a reflective notebook while you are here.  As
a minimum, I want you to self-analyze what your limits are after each
scene in which you participate, whether it is a training session, a
client's session, or one you do for your own pleasure should such ever
happen." 

Ty gave a snort, to which Solange responded with a teasing smile before
becoming serious again.  "It might happen - there are some lovely,
caring women here who would jump at the chance to have their wicked
ways with you.  Be that as it may, I want you to write down your
thoughts and your feelings with regard to your limits in that notebook.
I want to discuss your reflections with you on a weekly basis  probably
on Fridays, but we'll see how that works out for both of us.  I expect
you to be brutally honest with yourself in these written reflections,
so I won't expect you to show me the notebook, or let me read it.  I
will, however, expect you to discuss what you have learned about
yourself and your limits, as it relates to your work here with me
openly and frankly.  I cannot help you nor can I protect you if I don't
understand what is going on in your head.  With my clients, this isn't
usually a problem for me, as I understand their basic emotions and
motivations.  As I said, you are different and I don't want any
mistakes that hurt you or damage our relationship.  Do you have any
problems with that assignment?"

Ty didn't answer immediately, and took the time to consider what she
wanted.  Then he nodded.  "As an actor, I've done that type of writing
before.  I'm sort of surprised I didn't think of it myself because I've
used it to deal with other emotional stuff in the past.  As to talking
with you about limits and such?  Now that I think about it, you're
probably the best one for me to talk to about such things.  I've talked
with ShaJuana some about these things, but it's hard there because
sometimes it feels like I'm imposing on our friendship, bringing all my
emotional baggage to dump on her."

Solange considered saying something, and decided against it.  She'd
bide her time for awhile and see what came of her little weekly chats. 
"I'm glad you feel you can talk about this with me.  Now, I have a
small, personal problem as regards your scene with Isolde tomorrow."

"Something I can do to help, Solange?"

"Yes.  I had to move an appointment to tomorrow morning, so I cannot be
here in time to let you into the wardrobe and help you select your
costume.  I can give you a key to one of the prep rooms, but we'll have
to pick out your costume tonight and have it on hand for when you get
here tomorrow..." she glanced at her computer, and then muttered,
"Damn!"

"What's the matter, Solange?"

"All the prep rooms are in use for the rest of today.  I can schedule
you one for tomorrow morning, but you won't be able to store your
costume there tonight.  Damn!  I'll have to reschedule my appointment. 
I knew my luck getting in so quickly was too good.  I'll have to call
my doctor and see what the next available appointment is."

"Um, Solange?  If you don't mind me taking the costume home, I'd just
need a garment bag for the suit and a rolling suitcase for the wig,
shoes, cosmetics and other stuff.  I'd look like just another New York
yuppie coming or going to the airport.  The only part of the costume I
have a problem putting  on by myself is the waist cincher, and I could
get Isolde to help me with the corset when I got here."

Solange looked at her young employee consideringly.  "That could work,
I suppose.  You wouldn't mind taking all that feminine finery home with
you and bringing it back in the morning?"

Ty shrugged that off.  "Who'd know besides me?  Heck, I'll even get
another half hour's sleep out of the deal if I don't have to be here in
time to spend half an hour going through wardrobe with you before
spending my two hours in make-up and costuming.  I can be here at 8 AM
instead of 7:30 AM, and still have plenty of time to be dressed and
ready to help Mistress Isolde with any last minute details."

"Very well, we will do it that way.  I believe I even have the
necessary luggage here as well.  One thing, Mr. Edwards, doing me a
personal favor does not absolve you of your professional commitments to
me and my organization.  As always, I expect your to be undetectable as
a cross-dressed male, and I expect you to be there for Mistress Isolde
when she is ready to do the final preparations for the scene.  Anything
less, and you will be disciplined either by a docking of your pay, or a
scene of my choice with one of my ladies as we have agreed in the past.
Is that understood?"

"Yes,  Ma'am.  So long as I can safeword the scene, that's fine."

"I will never deny you the use of a safeword, Tyrone.  However, in this
case, please recall that safewording forfeits the event fee since you
are doing the scene to keep that bonus," she reminded him.

"I understand and agree.  Do you have time to go to the wardrobe with
me now?"

"I have to make a few phone calls first, one of which is to make sure
Isolde knows you'll need help with your corsetry tomorrow.  Shall I
meet you there in say, fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  Is that all for now?"

Solange smiled, and nodded.  "Yes, thank you for your time and
cooperation in this, Ty.  I'll see you in wardrobe."

She watched him leave, and close the door behind him.  She waited a few
moments to ensure he wasn't going to recall something and come right
back, then she picked up her phone.  A wicked smile lit her regal
features - one that had sent shivers dancing up and down the spine of
many a submissive male in her time as a practicing Domina.  

Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day, indeed.  Now all she
needed to do was ensure that the last of the preparations were in
place.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 7: The Thickening Plot
By Tigger c2008


It was dark by the time Ty finally made his way home from the dungeon,
and of course, since he was weighed down with about seventy five pounds
of luggage, the elevator was not working.  Murphy had always had a
lousy sense of humor.

Still, the thought of what he'd be able to do with the two or so hours
worth of bonus pay he'd earn playing the bimbo secretary tomorrow kept
his spirits high as he lugged his heavy burden up to his apartment.
His regular salary covered the necessities of life in the big bad city,
so he no longer had to worry about paying the rent, and his diet had
improved significantly, as well.  He'd even managed to collect a few
pieces of clothing that weren't from thrift stores, but New York was
still New York and the cost of living sucked.  So the extra money here
and there for an hour or two of his time, even in skirts, had been a
god send.  His back rent was paid as were his delinquent union dues.
The phone on the floor by his bed had been reconnected (even if it
could not be used to call long distance - YET) and he'd even managed to
make a dent in the principal on the one credit card he permitted
himself.

This bonus, however, would be used to get a cell phone, even if only on
the 'buy minutes up front' plan for now.  He wanted that cell phone.
No, he LUSTED for that cell phone.  There was just something about
having been deprived of that basic service over the past few months
that had screamed 'failure' to him.  

Reaching his floor, he opened the door and quickly brought the luggage
in.  Painful and hard-learned lessons had him closing and locking the
door's multiple locks again before even walking across the tiny room to
turn on the single lamp he owned.  A beer was in order, he thought as
he went into his tiny kitchen, as a way of celebrating his return to
the world of cell phones.  And that was yet another little luxury that
his time in Solange's employ had restored to his lifestyle - a cold
beer in the evening when he wanted one.  

As he passed the rickety excuse for a kitchen table, he saw the
application he'd gotten, and started to fill out.  Odd how working at
the dungeon had planted this idea in his head.  Certainly, the program
could be seen as an extension of some of the aspects of his new job
that he'd found surprisingly fulfilling, but could he actually see that
type of work becoming his career?  Was there a calling in this for him?

He didn't yet know the answers to those questions, but there was
potential there, and the possibility of an opportunity to continue
working in the world of theater.  Ty sat down and scanned through the
nearly-completed paperwork, wincing once again at the part that
discussed costs.  

He'd need a whole lot of financial aid, and precisely where that money
would come from he didn't know.  Not from Edwards, Inc., that was for
sure.  Dad had not been happy with his undergraduate program of
studies, but had paid for it because Ty had agreed to minor in business
administration - the only student in his dramatic arts department to do
so.  Dad would NOT be willing to pay for this, but that didn't matter
because Ty didn't intend to ask him.  If he was going to pursue this,
he'd have to find his own way.  Who knew - maybe he wasn't too old for
student loans, and with that thought, he finished the last few items
before signing his name to the document with a flourish worthy of John
Hancock.  

A surreal sense of accomplishment wafted over Ty as he sat there,
staring at the completed and now signed document.  He'd have to wait
until his next bonus session in order to pay the application fee, but
he'd made the decision to go for it.  Now, he'd find a way to make it
work.

Collecting his beer, he stood up and noticed that he'd left the luggage
on the floor, blocking the door.  Setting the beer bottle back down, he
went over and hoisted the shoulder bag and gripped the handle on the
rolling suitcase.  When he did, he saw an envelope on the floor where
someone had obviously pushed it under his door earlier in the day.  He
set the luggage aside, away from the door, and then returned to pick up
the note.  He opened it, and was surprised to see it was from the
building super.

     Mr. Edwards:

     Your annual safety, fire and pest inspection is scheduled for
tomorrow morning at 8:30 AM.  It should take no more than an hour, but
as you know, this is an unannounced inspection to ensure you are
complying with the terms of your lease as regards to cleanliness and
other maintenance.  You or your designated representative must be in
the apartment with the inspector and myself during the inspection.
Failure to be present will necessitate rescheduling the inspection, and
you will be billed $125/hour for the inspector's lost time.  A minimum
of two hours will be charged, payable with your next rent payment.

     If you have any questions, you can reach me at my office number
during the hours of 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM.

     Jon Smith, Building Superintendent.


Ty couldn't believe it.  The guy had to be kidding.  Surely he rated
more warning than this 'be there tomorrow or else' note?  Furious, Ty
snatched up his phone and dialed the super's number, which of course,
went to voice mail.  A quick check of his watch showed that it was
almost 7:00 PM, and Ty figured the realty management company didn't pay
this guy enough to hang around after hours.  Grasping at straws, Ty ran
down the stairs to the Super's first floor apartment, only to find no
one home.

Returning to his apartment, he called the dungeon hoping for a reprieve
on the scene assignment for tomorrow, but neither Isolde nor Solange
were there.  ShaJuana was just about to leave for the day, but she was
still there, so he asked to speak to her.  

"Hey, Ty-RONE, what's up?" she asked when she picked up the line.

"Juana, can you cover my apartment tomorrow morning?  I've got a
session assignment in the morning working with Isolde - doing the role
of her sexy secretary - and  when I got home tonight there was this
notice of an unannounced inspection that I have to be here for
tomorrow.  The inspection is at 8:30, and the session with Isolde is at
ten!  I can't get do that and still get there in time to change.  The
note says I could have a designee here to do stand in for me if I can't
be here, but it will cost me more than twice what I'll earn for doing
the scene with Isolde if they come here and no one is here."

"Wow, Ty, that's a bitch.  I wish I could help, I really do, but I've
got a dance audition tomorrow morning.  I've got to be on stage and
ready to go at 9:00 AM."

"Damn.  This blows.  I can't afford the penalty, and I can't be here
the inspection and make the 10:00 AM scene with Isolde.  Unlike you, I
need at least two hours to make myself beautiful."

"Nice line, boy, but flattery ain't gonna get you nowhere, this time.
I really want that part!"

"As if I'd ask you to give it up!" Ty responded, real heat in his
voice.

"Okay, okay, just teasin'.  I really do wish I could help, Ty.  Want me
to ask around, see if any of the girls still here can come by your
place and help?"

He thought about it, but, dammit, it just wasn't fair to any of the
women still at the dungeon.  They were all working the evening shift,
so they wouldn't be free until one or two am in the morning.  By the
time they got home, they'd get less than three hours rest if they were
going to be at his place in time to stand in for him with the
superintendent.  That would just mess up their schedules too much.
Unfortunately, this was his problem and he only saw one solution at
this point.  "No," he replied on a gusty sigh of resignation.  "Could
you leave a note for Isolde, or maybe call her at home?  She lives on
Long Island and I can't call her with my phone setup.  Suffolk is a
long distance call from here."

"Sure, if you want... " and Juana's voice trailed away.  "Say, Ty?  You
did say a designee was okay for this deal, right?  And that it would be
done in an hour, right?"

"Yeah.  So?"

"Well, you said you were doing the sexy secretary in a ritzy office
bit, right?  And that means the outfit should be suitable for street
wear.  Is it?"

"Pretty much," he affirmed.  "It's really tight in places, naturally,
and the skirt's a little short, but nothing too far our of the
ordinary, why?"

"Okay, so you could wear it on the street and walk to the dungeon
wearing it.  Suppose I go get your girl stuff before I go home.  I'll
drop it off at your place, and tomorrow, you could dress up and be your
own designee, only as Tina.  Then, you just walk to the dungeon with
the rest of the folks heading off to work and be on time for your
session with Isolde."

Stunned silence was all Ty could come up with in response to that
solution to his problem.  It might work, he thought.  No client had
read him yet, at least, until he'd been unveiled.  And he had
everything already, right?  Then he remembered the cut and size of the
suit Solange had selected for him, not to mention the shoes and groaned
aloud.

"Ty?" ShaJuana snapped out.  "TYRONE?  Are you all right?  What's the
matter?"

"I've already got my stuff for tomorrow here, Juana, 'cause all the
prep rooms were in use tonight."

"So?  You're good to go, right?"

"No.  Two problems.  The costume won't fit without the waspie laced up
tight, and it laces from the back."

"Okay, I can see that.  What's the other problem?"

"The shoes - the ones that go with the outfit are more than four inches
tall.  I can't walk that far in them - not and then spend two hours in
the playroom with them.  I'll be lamed."

"Hmmm, 'see your point, Ty.  Well, the shoes are no problem, are they? 
Women wear socks and sneaks over their stockings to walk to work all
the time, don't they?"

"I suppose, but the only sneakers I have are practically falling apart.
I think folks would notice a secretary in a too-tight dress wearing
four year old high tops, don't you?"

"You're right.  Okay, I'll bring you over a pair of mine tonight - they
should fit you with a thick enough pair of socks.  And while I'm there,
I'll do up your corset for you."

"But I'll have to wear it all night!" he yelped protest.

"Hey, it's either that, or let Isolde and Solange down, or get one of
the girls to come in and help you tomorrow.  'Sides, you don't really
need that much taken off your tummy, do you?"

It was the principle of the thing, he told himself.  This was his home,
such as it was - his castle - and he wanted to be king here, not queen.
Still, it was a solution that didn't let anyone down, and didn't cost
or lose him any money.  Resigned, he surrendered to the inevitable.
"Want some dinner while you're here?  I have beer and leftover chili-
mac?"

Juana laughed.  "No thanks, but I'll bring a pizza.  We'll just have to
lace you up before you overeat."

"Bitch," Ty said laughing.  "And that's just one of the things I love
about you."

"See you in thirty, Ty-RONE!"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 8: On the Sidewalks of New York
By Tigger c2008


Ty tried to find a position where he could stand without falling into
the bathroom sink, and that also let him see clearly the fine line
formed by where his own skin met the faux breast he'd just glued on to
his chest.  It had been difficult enough doing up Tina's face and
getting the blond, French-Twist styled wig on straight using the sorry
excuse for a medicine cabinet mirror, but this - this ... 

Words failed him for one of the few times in his life.  He needed a
shadow-free view of that transition if he wanted to hide it effectively
with the makeup intended to hide the difference between real skin and
really good fake skin.  Except he couldn't twist his neck far enough to
see it directly.  The only way he could even begin to see the sides of
his fake boobs was to use a mirror.  At the dungeon, he'd used those
marvelous wide-screen, lighted makeup mirrors, but he didn't have
anything like that here.  All he had was a mirror that was missing a
large chunk of its reflective silver backing, that was barely the size
of a piece of notebook paper, and that was already slightly above
comfortable face height for the inches-challenged actor.  While doing
Tina's face, he'd solved the height problem by slipping on those
instruments of the Inquisition that Solange jokingly referred to as
'shoes', using the extra four and one half inches (he'd measured them!)
to get his lips even with a part of the mirror that actually produced a
reflection.

Now what he was doing was standing on top of an upside-down, metal
waste can and leaning against the wall for support.  Once there, he
used a flashlight in one hand for extra illumination, and his remaining
free hand to brush the masking compound's pigment smoothly over the two
surfaces.

All the while trying manfully not to fall off his precarious perch,
smashing his head on the toilet flushing tank, thus killing himself.
Well, at least he'd thought to take off those damned shoes first.
Otherwise, he'd probably already be dead.

And for all his best efforts, 'Tina's' face was merely adequate from
what he'd been able to see of the entire presentation in that miserable
excuse for a mirror.  At least, he hoped it was adequate.  As soon as
he finished dressing, he'd call the dungeon and see if one of the
ladies would give Tina a quick make over once she got to work.  Someone
was sure to be there by then, and Tina would need it.  Actually, Ty was
perfectly capable of doing what was needed to be done on his own - he
just couldn't do it fast enough for Tina to be on time in the playroom
- particularly if that asshole super and his pal the inspector dawdled
over their white glove treatment of the place.  

There'd be somebody at the dungeon who could help him.  There had to
be!

With the last bit of cosmetic camouflage done and dried, it was time to
finish dressing so he wouldn't have to greet the coming invaders in
nothing but Tina's unmentionables.  Wouldn't THAT be a bloody thrill!

NOT!

The waist cincher had still been a problem - even after Juana's help
the previous evening.  Over the course of the night, the waspie, and
maybe the laces, too, had stretched so the thing had been able to shift
up towards his rib cage.  Getting it back down to where it belonged had
required a great deal of tugging and some rather inventive contortions
on his part.  He'd managed, but it had taken time he didn't have and
still left his waist not quite as cinched as it had been the night
before.

He almost wished he'd accepted ShaJuana's kind offer to come here this
morning before she went to her audition.  She'd told him she'd be here
at six AM to lace him up so he could get a good night's sleep.
Besides, Solange didn't like her girls wearing corsetry more than a few
hours at a time because the garments tended to constrict internal
organs if worn too long or too tightly.  Anyway, he'd blown her off.
For one thing, as Juana herself had said, Ty didn't need to lose all
that many inches so Tina wouldn't have to be laced so  tightly that
there might be a health risk.  More importantly, however, Ty wanted
ShaJuana to be bright-eyed and ready for her audition.  She wouldn't be
either if she had to get out of bed at 5:30 AM to be here just to get
hm laced up by 6:00 AM.

He remembered how she'd rebelled at his insistence she stay in bed and
go straight to her audition, arguing that it would be no problem for
her at all.  She was a great friend, he thought, but he had been
determined to have his way on this.  She needed, no, more than that,
she had EARNED this opportunity, and Ty was not going to have her go
into this audition at anything less than her absolute best.  As her
friend, that was more important to him than a few hours discomfort from
having to wear a corset overnight.  

Now he had to get into costume and into character, but that was
actually going to fun for a change.  This was the first time since
Juana had first shoved him into her shower with that bottle of hair
remover that he'd had any degree of artistic control over HIS
character.  He'd spent a lot of time last evening thinking about just
that, too, and had concluded that the very sexy ditz who would serve as
Isolde's secretary was all wrong for the walk across town to work.
That piece of work would have a car, or at least, would call a cab to
get to the dungeon, and neither of those options fit into Ty Edwards'
budget just yet.  So, he needed a different character for the next few
hours.  

And he could see her in his mind.

She was a Midwestern girl, new to the big city, starting off a new life
and a new job.  She was ambitious, ergo her decision to work in New
York City instead of back home in Dubuque, but she was still just a
little naive, a little too sweet and trusting, and secretly, just a
little scared at being out on her own.  Think Marlo Thomas in 'That
Girl' as a starter, he thought to himself.  

He looked at the padded girdle and bra set on his bed, next to the
seamed stockings and a plastic bag with the logo of a local discount
department store.  It would have been so much easier to have had Juana
help him slip into one of those all-in-one things last night, lace it
up and be done with it all.  Unfortunately for him, in his next role
Solange already had a mental picture of how 'Sexy Secretary Tina' would
dress and had issued him this stuff instead.  Evidently, Solange had
decided that  'Sexretary Tina' wouldn't give a second thought to
running around commando-style, even when dressed in a really short
skirt and an open-bottom girdle.  'Dubuque Tina,' however, was not THAT
kind of girl! 'Dubuque Tina' was an old fashioned girl-next-door kind
of girl.  SHE had been brought up by her Momma to be a Lady with a
capital 'L'!

Which was why that plastic bag was there on the bed along with the
lingerie provided by Solange.  While waiting for ShaJuana to arrive
last night, he'd run out to the local department store and had checked
out the available selections in ladies' undies.  One small problem had
been that he didn't really know what size panty Tina wore, since such
things had always been provided by the dungeon or by Juana.
Unfortunately, neither Ty nor Tina had thought to look for the tags.
He'd solved that problem by buying three pairs in three different
sizes, starting with large.  He'd gotten a very funny look from the
cashier, but he'd ignored it.  Wouldn't be the first time someone had
drawn conclusions about him based on his purchase of costume pieces or
accessories.  That was just part of being an actor.

Ty decided he'd start with the smallest pair of panties, and then move
up in size if it became necessary.  

~-~

At 8:14 by the radio announcer's disgustingly chipper weather report,
Dubuque Tina  was busily putting the finishing touches on her attire.
She was a little concerned because, with the padded girdle, Tina had a
figure that just BARELY fit in the skirt.  And her voluptuously rounded
bottom pulled the darn thing's already short hem up another couple of
inches! She HAD to be dangerously close to having the dark, reinforced
nylon of her stocking tops peeking out from under her skirt-hem.  On
her first day as Miss Isolde's secretary, too! Oh, if only every stray
calorie didn't run straight to her hips and bottom and take up
permanent residence there.  If she'd had time for breakfast earlier,
she'd be losing it right now!

So it was just as well she'd had to skip breakfast, because she didn't
have time for that right now.  She still had to get the seams of her
stockings straightened out, then get them hooked to the garters of that
darned girdle, and manage it all in the 12 minutes she had left before
Mr. Edwards' super and his pal the inspector arrived.

~-~

Somehow, she managed it, because just as the radio announced the 8:30
morning news, she was slipping on her suit jacket.  She'd even gotten
the socks and running shoes on without falling on her face or ruining
her hose.  Amazing, she thought, while hurrying over to her kitchen
table so she could knock on the wood.

~-~

The radio station's regularly scheduled 8:34 weather report came and
went, with no sign of the inspection team.

~-~

At 8:38, the local sportscaster was giving a cogent analysis of why
neither the Yankees or the Mets were in the World Series this year, and
could expect that to occur again next year.  There wasn't even the
grind of the elevator hoist to herald the arrival of the inspector and
superintendent.

~-~

At 8:45, her phone rang.  "Finally," she snarled as she snapped up the
offending instrument.  "YES!"

"Hello, is this Mr. Edwards' apartment?"  She recognized the voice of
the building superintendent.

Tina realized that the superintendent had expected Ty to answer, but
instead had gotten her.  She took a deep breath to calm herself.  "Yes,
this is Mr. Edwards' apartment.  He had to go to an audition, so he
asked me to be here for this inspection thingie you guys sprung on him.
Are you calling about that?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am.  I'm sorry, but the inspector just called to tell me he
can't make it today - he has a sick kid who can't go into school so he
has to stay home with him.  We'll have to reschedule for another day."

"Oh, I see.  You can cancel without notice, but if Ty did, you'd fine
him two hundred and fifty dollars?" she demanded primly.  "I'm sure
he's going to call the management company about this.  He deserves a
rent credit for this, at the very least!" she lectured into the phone.

A mocking laugh answered her.  "Oh, you tell him to go ahead and try,
but the penalty to Edwards is in the lease he signed, and there's
nothing in there that says the landlord has any similar liabilities.
You have a nice day, Ma'am, and say hello to Mr. Edwards for me."  Then
all she heard was the buzzing of a disconnected phone.

She looked at the clock, and saw that it was 8:49, and uttering a word
that would have had her Momma reaching for a soap bar, gathered up her
luggage and briefcase to leave.

~-~

For some unknown reason, the sign announcing that the elevator was out
of commission was gone, and it appeared - miracle of miracles - that it
was actually operating.  She reached out and tapped the 'down' button
with the blood-red nail of her index finger.  

The elevator arrived and she stepped in.  Like many such conveyances,
the inside was mirrored for the benefit of the security camera hidden
somewhere in the car - assuming the camera worked which she figured was
a very bad assumption.  However, the mirrors still served to give Tina
her first good look at 'the whole picture.'  Mentally, she ticked off
the main elements of her presentation for her first day of work with
Miss Isolde.

Her hair was okay - the blond French braids were still tight and still
looked neat.  Her make up would pass, too, but she hoped she could
manage a quick trip to the powder room for a touch up before she met
with Miss Isolde to start her day.  

She looked at her body, and pouted a bit.  Her suit was tight -VERY
tight, but she didn't look fat - maybe just a little zaftig - her
boobs, hips and butt looked in proportion - just a little too big for
the suit, that's all.  And now that she was working and walking to work
every day, she'd shed that five, well, ten pounds in no time.

She checked her legs and was pleased to see that she had managed to get
the seams of the stockings straight, and there weren't any runs or
ladders... okay - check.

Carefully, she lifted her skirt until she could see the darker material
of the stockings' tops, and then a little more until she saw the white
of the garters from her girdle, and sighed.  That was going to be a
problem, after all.  She had a scant two inches to where the stocking
tops became clearly visible and less than another inch before the white
of the girdle garters would poke themselves into plain view.  Maybe she
should go back on put on pantihose, she thought to herself, but no -
there just wasn't enough time.  Besides, real stockings made her feel,
well, more womanly and grown up - just the way a girl starting on her
first real job in the big city SHOULD feel.  Ditch the pantihose, she
told herself sternly.

Tina experimented with her stride, all the while looking at her
reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator.  She'd have to be
very careful to moderate her stride or she'd be flashing stocking tops
and garters to the whole city, she thought.  Oh well, it's not all that
far to walk, she tried telling herself as an encouragement.

As the elevator doors whooshed open on her building's main floor, she
thought, just for an instant, that she might be better off wearing the
high heels that were inside the rolling suitcase she pulled behind her.
That would, at least, control her stride for her.  It would also just
about destroy her feet and ankles before she was half way through her
first day working for Miss Isolde.  She'd just have to remember and be
careful not to over-stride.  She could do that.

~-~

Only the nagging awareness of the potential risk that her skirt might
creep up her thighs as she hurried off to work would not go away!  She
was overtly conscious of her appearance every step she took.  She
caught herself, on several occasions, stopping to stare at her
reflection in storefront windows, making sure those darned stocking
tops and garter tabs weren't showing.  

It was during one such stop that she caught a reflected glimpse of a
tall, African American woman behind her and deep in the part of Tina's
mind where Ty was still in control, thought "Juana?" But when she spun
about to look, the woman had disappeared -maybe stepping into a store
further back up the sidewalk.

Her curiosity aroused, she was about to walk back that way and see who
was there, but saw to her horror that it was almost 9:15, and she was
only barely halfway to work!  Her little window stops, along with her
consciously shortened walking stride had cost her time she didn't have
to lose!  First thing she'd buy with her first paycheck would be a
business-appropriate ladies watch.  She was a professional now, darnit,
and professionals were not late for work or appointments.

She had to get to her new workplace by 9:30, so she considered her
options.  Her planned route to work was a bit roundabout because she
intentionally avoided a street that had always seemed really dirty and
unkempt.  She didn't want to show up soiled and dusty her first day on
the job, but taking that street would cut ten minutes off her walking
time.  Another look at the clock in the window made up her mind for
her.  'You never get a second chance to make a good first impression,'
she told herself firmly.

With that, she turned and headed for the 'shortcut'.

~-~

The street was not only dirty, it was rough in more ways than one.
There were few, if any, pedestrians for her to join, and most of the
people on the street seemed to be clustered in small, same-sex groups
around someone who was clearly the 'ring-leader'.  Her lack of escort
and her mode of dress made her stand out all the more.  She had never
been anywhere like this back home in Dubuque.  Anxiety bubbled up in
her as she became more and more the center of attention, particularly
among the male groups.

Unconsciously, her stride lengthened and sped up, with the consequence
that her stocking tops started flashing with each stride, bringing her
even more unwanted interest from her audience.  

Suddenly, something caught at her arm, bringing her up short and nearly
toppling her to the dirty sidewalk.  She just caught herself, and
spinning about, saw the cause was a man - a teenager really, who had
grabbed her by her arm as she'd passed by him.  

He was not a credit to his gender.  He had long, ill-tended hair, and a
face that was marked by insufficient hair to be recognizable as a
beard, and the pockmark scars of poorly treated acne.  He wore a filthy
t-shirt and grubby jeans, under a New York Yankee warmup jacket.  The
grin he gave her was frightening, and whether it was his breath or body
order, the stench he gave off made her want to wretch right there.

"Yo, momma," he said arrogantly, "You be new here.  Gotta real nice ass
on you.  What say you come with me and we'll see what we can do with
that fine ass, huh?"

A miasma of swirling, violent emotions nearly overwhelmed Tina -part
fear, part humiliation, and the rest pure rage.  How DARE this... this
punk accost her?  Without thought, the actor that was Tina slipped into
the most threatening role she knew, "Little man," Maitresse Solange
said in cold, clear tones, "If you want those fingers back as more than
stubs, you would be wise to remove them from my arm now while you can."

"Listen, bitch ..."

"No, YOU listen," she snapped back, punctuating each syllable with a
sharp finger stab to the punk's sternum, "You got ONE thing right, I AM
a bitch, with sharp, shiny teeth,"  The smile that curled her lips
showed those teeth, but didn't reach her ice cold eyes.  "You don't
want me to show you and your friends just how sharp they are.  Do you
think you're the first pushy little boy who has tried my patience?  I
know just what to do to render a mere male - less than whole.  I've
done it before and I LIKE doing it."   

For several, infinitely long heartbeats, the two of them simply stared
into each other's eyes, and then he broke.  Solange-Tina reached over
with her free hand, and peeled her attacker's fingers away from her
arm.  Then she fastidiously smoothed the material, turned her back on
him and, with a dismissive shake of her head, continued on her way,
once again at the controlled, restrained pace she'd used when she'd
first left her building.  

What she did not see was the teen recovering enough to start gathering
his group for a response, only to have a mountain of a man, wearing a
grey pinstriped suit, step between them and Tina's departing figure.
He made no overt threat, made no movements that might signal that he
had or might use a weapon against them.  However, the unspoken message
he conveyed was still clearly understood by the leader and his cronies.
'To get to her, you go over or through me.'

They decided they had better things to do at that point, and were all
privately relieved when the suit slipped away in the direction that
bitch had taken.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: The Shadow Knows.


8:50 AM found Maitresse Solange just settling into the plush leather
seats of her chauffeur-service car for the drive from her home to her
place of business.  The car had barely moved from the curb when her
cell-phone sounded the first bars of the refrain from John Cougar
Mellencamp's "Hurts so Good."  She collected the sleek unit from her
purse and saw that the call was being auto-forwarded to her from her
private line at the dungeon.

Snapping it open, she put the phone to her ear and expectantly said,
"Yes?"  She listened for a moment, and then smiled broadly.  "Ah, yes,
Mr. Smith, this is she.  What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I see.  So Mr. Edwards arranged for someone to stay in his
apartment to meet your supposed inspector?  A young lady, you say?  Ah,
must be a girl friend.  Well, that's too bad as he'll no doubt arrive
at work before we'll have had time to set up the decorations for his
surprise birthday celebration.  What's that?  Oh, you say his
girlfriend told you he went to an audition?  Well, maybe we can salvage
the party after all." There was a spate of rapid speech on the other
end, causing Solange to grin.  "Oh, well I shouldn't worry, Mr. Smith. 
I'll make sure that both Mr. Edwards and his friend know that this was
a ruse on my part so we could surprise him.  No, I don't think you need
to worry about a call to your employers about the inspection.  No, I'm
very pleased with your effort, and will have the other fifty dollars
delivered to you by messenger this very morning.  Thank you for trying
to help us surprise Tyrone.  Good day to you, Mr. Smith."

Solange settled even more comfortably into the deeply cushioned seat, a
self-satisfied smile on her face.  So, Ty had taken the challenge and
run with it.  Tina was now operating on the grandest stage of all - New
York City during morning rush hour.  How did the song go?  'If I can
make it here, I'll make it anywhere...' 

A beautiful piece of feminine manipulation, she thought to herself.
She'd be sure to congratulate ShaJuana on her part in this little
enterprise, as well.

She glanced at her watch.  She had just enough time to slip into her
office and be well out of sight before Tina came sailing in to the
dungeon to redo her makeup for the session with Isolde.

~-~

At 9:20, Solange was seated in her private office, a freshly brewed cup
of tea in her hand, watching the establishment's closed circuit
television.  She'd installed the system so that any room in the place
could be monitored for safety, sanity and consensuality - not to
mention security.  She was about to select the camera that monitored
the entrance foyer when the phone on her private line rang.  She picked
it up, "Yes?" and then listened.  At first, she wasn't sure she had
heard what the private security man had to say correctly, so she asked
him to repeat it

It was just as bad the second time.  "She was WHAT?" Solange blurted,
her voice jumping whole octaves.  "Accosted on the street?  Where?
Why?"

"Merciful God in Heaven, Why EVER did she take THAT route? ...oh ...
running late?  I wonder why - I have an eye witness report that she
left the apartment building in plenty of time to get here.  She should
have been...  What about the suit?  Oh, I see, and they saw her
garters?  How?"

The response was terse and to the point, and made Solange wince.  "My
fault - I didn't think - it was the outfit Isolde and I had selected
before I thought of this experience for her...  I didn't think of how
that would work out in public and I should have.  Was... Was she hurt? 
Before you could intervene?"

She jumped at the bark of laughter that answered that question, then
listened carefully.  "You say she handled them?  How?  Did she break
cover and - ...and ...she WHAT?!??"

The conversation, such as it was, devolved to the security operative
making tight, pithy comments about planning, safety and consent when a
submissive was put in such situations, to which a very chastened
Solange interspersed with increasingly apologetic "I see's," and "I
agree's."  It was a masterful chewing out, from a man she knew to be a
highly competent, caring and much sought-after Master in his own right.
Worse, she knew she deserved every bit of it and more.

"No, you're quite right - this was poorly planned and poorly done on
our part, and I'm giving thanks right now that nothing really bad
happened to anyone involved."

"No, I don't know what I'm going to do - probably nothing at all until
we see if there are repercussions."

"Yes, I know you're there if we need masculine support or assistance,
but we'll start out playing it by ear on our own.  Very well, then, and
thank you for your efforts.  I very much appreciate everything you did
to keep her safe."

Solange was about to say more when her in-house intercom beeped, and
then beeped again.  That was the preset danger signal from the front
desk - not an intrusion alarm or a crime alarm, but a warning of what
the front desk considered to be a significant problem.

"I have to go - something on my in-house link."  Solange hung up the
phone and opened the two-way circuit to the front desk.

"Solange?  Deedee on the front desk.  Tina just came in.  Something is
just not right.  Her face was ...was, well, a little scary! I've never
seen her look so, well,  hard is the only word I can think of.  And
she's never talked to me the way she just did before."

"What did she say?"

"She said something like "Good morning, Deirdre, All's well here, I
presume?" and just kept going.  Didn't wait for me to answer.  I've
never heard her talk like that, and this is after she called me earlier
this morning and all but begged me to help her with her makeup for her
session when she got here.  It was like she had never said it,
somehow..."

"Thanks - I'm on it."

Solange turned her attention back to her CCTV station, and began
scanning through the rooms on the second floor.  She found Tina in the
prep room that had been assigned to her use for her final preparations.
Tina was seated at the vanity busily creaming away the makeup she'd put
on before leaving her apartment.  Her movements seemed strange, for
some reason, but Solange couldn't quite put her finger on why that
might be.  In hopes of getting more information, she turned on the
hidden microphones that were also installed in every room of the
dungeon.  

Not able to make out much, if any detail in the fisheye lens of the
security camera, Solange switched to the camera installed behind the
one-way glass of the makeup mirror and just stared in confusion at what
she beheld.  There was no apparent emotion on the young face, just a
quietly intense focus on the process of applying fresh makeup.  

Why wasn't the girl upset?  Lord knows, if some jerk had grabbed
Solange on the street like that she'd have been upset.  Hell, after
she'd crushed the little worm into the nearest storm drain, she'd have
run off to the privacy of her office and had a minor breakdown.  This
girl had nearly been - no, not nearly - she HAD been violated, but she
wasn't showing a bit of that type of emotion.  That, somehow, seemed
even worse than a breakdown.  At least Solange knew what to DO about a
breakdown - equal parts caring, wine and chocolate, with an on-call
rape counselor in the wings if needed.  She had to know more about what
was going on inside that blond head ...

Solange snatched up her phone and dialed an in-house extension that was
answered on the first ring.  "Isolde, something went wrong on Tina's
walk to work - some low-life scum accosted her on the street.  No, she
wasn't hurt physically and I had someone following her for protection. 
No, she's not crying, and that scares the hell out of me.  Look, I
don't have anything more to tell because I don't know anything more,
all right?  I need you to go to her and see if you can figure out what
she's feeling right now.  You have an excuse to go looking for her so
get down there and try to look surprised when you see her.  Once you're
there you can call for help and I'll be able to say I was just arriving
at work after coming in from my appointment.  No, I don't know if she
can work a session or not, but I'm really not concerned about that just
at the moment.  Okay, Solly, thanks.  She's in Prep Room 1, putting on
makeup, for goodness sake.  Great! Now move it, please."

Still fixated on the screen, Solange called the front desk.  "DeeDee, I
want ShaJuana in my private office right now!  Tell her to take the
back way, because I don't want Tina to see her.  What do you mean she's
not here yet?  Oh, I see.  Well, then call her on her private cell
phone.  I need to see her right away -tell her to shag it! Thanks,
dear.  Yes, I saw it, too, and no, I've not seen Tina behave like this
before, either.  Thanks.  She's one of us now, and we'll take care of
her.  Right, now I have to go.  Find ShaJuana for me!"

~-~

ShaJuana burst in, breathing hard from running up the stairs and down
the block-long corridor to reach Solange's office.  It took a few
moments for the tall black beauty to be brought up to speed as they
watched the monitor to see Isolde arrive at Tina's Prep Room.
Dumbfounded, they could only stare when Tina immediately began ordering
the senior Domina around.  "This suit is too tight without the corset
laced up tight.  Well, what are you waiting for?  Don't dawdle, Isolde,
we haven't the time for that!"

"Where WERE you, Juana?  I thought you were going to trail after her,
too?  Make sure nothing went wrong while she was out on the street?"
Solange's tones were accusing.

Juana didn't take her eyes off her friend's image as she answered the
older woman.  "I lost her about half way here.  That skirt really
messed her up, Solange.  It was just too short and she never got
comfortable moving in it.  She must have stopped twice every block just
to look at her reflection.  She even slipped into an alleyway once to
pull it down in the back.  Anyway, I got too close once and I saw her
catch sight of my reflection in one of the windows.  I ducked into a
caf‚ and by the time I thought it was safe to come back out, she was
gone.  I tried to catch up, but I never even caught sight of her again.
How'd she get here so damned fast?"

"She took the short cut through the bad streets, and got grabbed by
some punk-bastard," Solange growled, her fury at herself only barely
contained.

"Ohmigod," Juana said, suddenly fearful.

"Evidently, she backed him off, somehow.  My P.I. thinks she did it
with just the power of her voice and the force of her eyes on him.  He
was very impressed with her innate dominance, although he did step in
after she walked away to keep the cowardly shit from jumping her from
behind."

In the meantime Tina was putting her blouse and coat back in order.
"Get my shoes out of the suitcase, please, while I see what I can do
with this wig."  Both watchers were surprised at the continued tone of
command in the younger woman's voice.  Certainly Isolde wasted no time
jumping to obey the snapped out order.

"She just walked away?  In that part of town?  You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not.  God, Juana, it could have been so much worse and it
would have been my fault!"  Solange's voice started to break.

ShaJuana put a strong arm around the older woman's shoulders and pulled
her close as they both continued to watch Isolde try to comfort their
friend.  "No, it would have been our fault, but mostly mine.  It was my
idea and I asked you to help set it up.  God, now she'll never want to
go out and play with me in public... and I'm pissed at myself for being
so damned selfish that I'd think of something like that before I think
of what SHE must be goin' through.  DAMMIT!  How could I say something
that stupid?"

"Language!" Solange corrected automatically.  "And I think there's
blame enough to go around, dear.  I didn't even give her panties."

"She had panties - I saw them."

"She did?"

"Ty bought 'em at a store near his place.  Said something about
Isolde's Tina was not the right Tina for the sidewalks of New York - or
some such thing - so he bought three pairs, 'cause he didn't know what
size he wore and couldn't bring himself to ask the saleslady to help
measure him."

"You know..." ShaJuana said thoughtfully, watching Tina, "I've never
seen him, I mean her, like this, but..."

"What?" Solange demanded, putting her nose closer to the monitor in an
effort to see what ShaJuana might have noticed.  "Is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing wrong," she said, letting the words slide away.  "But
she's in character right now, and I feel like I ought to know who..."

At that moment, Tina issued another command to Isolde, who seemed to
almost shrink under the power of this new and unknown Tina.  "I... I
have to go make sure the room is ready, Tina," a quaver in her voice
clearly audible over the monitoring system speakers

"Oh, very well, you are dismissed!"

"Thank you, Mis, I mean, Tina," and then Isolde almost ran from the
room.

"Well, I'll be dipped," Juana said wonderingly.  "Isolde almost called
her 'Mistress', and she actually bobbed Tina a curtsy!"

Solange scowled at that.  Isolde was HER submissive, and it annoyed her
to have the woman react that way to anyone other than herself, and
particularly to this untrained newbie.  

"I KNOW WHO SHE IS!" ShaJuana blurted out.  "She's YOU!  Or at least,
how I think she SEES you, Solange."

"Whhaaaattt?!?  ME?  You're joking."

"No, no - look at her.  Look at the way she's holding her head -just
slightly cocked to one side, and look at that wicked little half smirk!
You look just like that when you've pushed somebody into one of your
little traps.  Ty's in character and she's YOU!"

"What are you talking about?" Solange demanded sternly.  "This isn't a
show.  This is real.  That child has been violated and I haven't the
slightest inkling what to do for her... him, because she isn't reacting
at all the way she should be to such an outrage!"

"Her," ShaJuana corrected without thinking.  "That's a 'her' right now,
because that's the role Tyrone Edwards is playing.  Solange, remember
when I told you that when Ty is in character -really in character -
it's something awesome?"  The other woman nodded, and for the first
time in minutes, turned her attention away from the CCTV screen.  "What
it really is, Solange, is genius - maybe even something more than that.
And if I'm right, it isn't really Ty who was violated, and I'm betting,
it wasn't the character he started out playing when he left the
apartment.  Somehow, he shifted roles so that punk tried to attack the
person Ty sees when he studies you!"

"I understand what you're saying, but I don't understand what that
means here and now.  How can it not be Ty who was violated?"

"Look, Solange, it just is because that's the way Ty is.  See, there
was this play - a whodunit mystery thing, Sherlock Holmes detective
story, a murder with too many clues and confusing as hell to watch.
Should have folded in less than a week like that turkey when Ty and I
first met, but instead, it had a pretty good run.  Ty was this gay guy
in a same sex relationship whose partner was the murder victim.  That
play earned this, well, cult following among the local LGBT community
around here, even though they originally came to boo Ty 'cause they
thought a gay actor should have gotten the role instead.  Then, they
kept coming because they loved his portrayal, and he wasn't even
supposed to be the star.  Ty was great in that play, but the point is
that every night, after the curtain went down, Ty was still grieving
for his character's dead partner because that's how deeply he gets into
his role, and how much he FEELS his role.  Sometimes, he'd need a few
hours to recover from what that role did to him.  Unless he had a major
reason to shift into another role!"

"So what if you're right?"  Solange was dubious, but still interested. 
"What would it take to get him to shift?"

"Well, I saw him do a shift for an evening show following a matinee a
couple of times." ShaJuana told her, "And he usually only got a couple
of hours of down time before he had to get ready to go again." 

"I still don't see your point, ShaJuana."

"You have to get through to Ty somehow, and get him out of that role."

Solange started to speak, and then stopped herself.  "There were fewer
hours between the end of one show and the beginning of the next than
what he usually needed to, oh I don't know, come back to himself?"

"That's JUST what I mean!" ShaJuana asserted.  "Solange, he never
missed a curtain or a cue; never gave a flat performance, even when
there was only an hour or two between shows, but when there wasn't a
show, he could take three, maybe four hours dealing with what the role
did to him!"

"Remarkable."

"Yeah.  It was kinda spooky at first, if you know what I mean.  I
thought it was like one of them multiple personality disorder things
you hear about on Oprah, but that ain't what it is about Ty.  He's just
a really, really good actor who can live in his role every show, every
time.  I used to wish I could give him a few of my inches so he'd have
a chance to show the world just how great he really is."

Solange considered Juana's words, trying to reconcile what she saw on
the screen with what she knew about Ty, and what she'd just heard.  Her
eyes became speculative as she tried to decide what to do next.  "You
say he was always out of the grief-state and ready to start when the
curtain went up on the next show?"

"Always," was the uncompromising response.

"I see."  Solange became thoughtful as she turned her attention back to
the CCTV screen.  "So, to recapitulate, what you believe happened is
that, when the person that Tina planned to be this morning was
attacked, some part of Ty saw that the script had undergone a major,
unexpected change, and that he needed a new characterization - ME - to
respond to that threat properly?"

"I think that's about the size of it.  Like I said, it takes something
pretty major to break Ty out if he's really into his role, but having
some asshole look like he's gonna rape you on the street would be high
on my list of major."

Before Solange could reply, her phone rang.  She answered it, started
to speak, and thought better of it.  "I'm going to put this on speaker.
ShaJuana is here and she might be able to help sort this out.  I expect
you to speak openly, Solly!" she finished in tones that Juana thought
sounded remarkably like those they'd just heard from Tina.  Solange
pressed the intercom button and set the handset back in the receiver.
"Can you still hear me, Silly-Solly?"

"Yes, Mistress.  Mistress, whoever that person in that room is, she's
not someone I've worked with before.  If I didn't know that person was
Ty and Tina, ... God, Mistress, that girl is so dominant she makes my
knees go weak.  I wanted to kneel to her in there, and damn near did to
help her on with her shoes."

"I see."

"Mistress, I can't do this scene with her today - not like we planned -
not with her like that!" Isolde wailed, her tone rife with arousal and
frustration.  "She's like YOU!  If I tried to scene with her right now,
with me like this and her like that?  Cripes, Mistress, I'll end up
getting MY butt smacked, and that just wouldn't be good for my bitch-
goddess image...even if I did like it."

"Slut," Solange said, the word conveying an affection totally out of
keeping with its literal meaning.

"Maybe, but I'm YOUR slut, and I was almost swept away back there.
Mistress, I think you better get to her and see what you can do about
this.  On my way.  You go and get ready to do this scene solo if I
can't help with Tina," she answered and then looked to ShaJuana who was
doing her best to stifle a giggle-fit.  "And what, may I ask, is so
funny about this... this debacle?!?"  

"It's no wonder that Isolde ended up submitting so quickly, Solange,"
ShaJuana replied, mirth lighting her face.  "Tina was pushing a bunch
of buttons you'd already put in place! Solly sees you in Tina, even if
you don't!"  

"As that may be," Solange said quellingly, but to very little affect.
"You stay here.  You're not supposed to be here and in her current
mood, you might not like the consequences she'd impose for lying to her
about your supposed audition."

"I hear that, Solange.  Might not be all that good for my bitch-goddess
image, either."

"Oh, I quite agree, my dear.  Well, what do you say in the theater?
Not 'Action,' is it?"

"Nope.  That's film work.  We do 'Up Curtain!'" Juana replied.

"I see.  Well, 'Up Curtain,' and cue La Maitresse, Stage Right," the
older woman replied.  Then she sailed toward her door, hoping she
understood the actor well enough to do what needed to be done.

"Hey Solange?" ShaJuana called out just before the older woman reached
the door.  When she turned to look at her tall colleague, Juana gave
her a broad grin and a thumbs up sign.  "Break a leg, Maitresse."



Acting Dominant
Interlude: Meeting Yourself Coming and Going


Solange stood outside the prep room, quietly gathering herself.  A
great deal would depend on what came of the next few moments.  It would
thoroughly infuriate her if the plans she'd set in progress were
derailed because she'd given into the impulse to play this, well, prank
wasn't too far off the mark.  That having Tina operating in public, en
femme and on her own, was something those plans required was a given
and something she'd eventually have had to instigate, but this had been
done too casually.  

Now she'd have to see what price would have to be paid for that
impulse.

She knocked on the door, and was surprised at the command, for that is
what it surely was, that responded.  "Enter!"  Wasn't that how she'd
commanded Tina-the-maid to enter the room wherein Solange had been
waiting to give Ty Edwards his first taste of sexual submission?  A
little cautiously, she entered.

The face that greeted her was femininely handsome, rather than pretty. 
Her posture was ram-rod straight, her demeanor direct.  Moreover, the
girl conveyed an air of aristocratic command that was almost palpable. 
The look Tina gave Solange as they approached one another was one the
older woman had seen in her own mirror uncounted times over her life.
In truth, it was one she'd practiced in front of her mirror when she'd
first began her avocation as a dominant woman.  It was rather
disconcerting to have it turned on her.

"Are you all right, Tina?" she asked, by way of starting the
conversation.

"Of course," was the positive reply.  "Why would I not be?"

"I understand you had an altercation on the street - a friend called to
tell me about it.  Some young tough grabbed you?"

"No problem, Solange.  He was a rodent, and I squashed him."

"I see.  Well, then, what do you plan to do now?"

"Now?"  For a moment, the aristocratic presentation faltered in
confusion.  "Why, I'm going to work with Isolde in her scene in, oh,"
she checked the clock, "about ten minutes."

"I don't think that's possible, dear." Solange said, apprehension
coloring her tones.  If she was wrong about how to handle this, they
could lose Tina and Ty both.  

"I beg your pardon.  I am here, dressed in the outfit you provided, and
fully prepared to do my part in this session."

"No, you're not," Solange contradicted, a sad look on her face as she
pointed to the mirror.  "Look at the woman in that mirror, dear.  Is
that the person Isolde needs in this session?"

A frown wrinkled the smooth forehead, and the blond-wigged head bent to
one side as Tina complied with Solange's request.  "What do you mean?"
she finally asked.

"Not to put to fine a point to it, dear, but Isolde expects and needs a
bimbo for the maximum effect in this scene.  Remember, we discussed
this yesterday?"

"Yes..." Tina replied, hesitantly, still staring at her reflection.  Or
had it been Tina who'd answered?  Solange wondered if it had been her
imagination, or had the timbre in that simple 'yes' been different?
Almost more like ... Tyrone?  

"Where are the flirtatious looks, the giggles?  You look like you're
about to play drill instructor and order him to give you fifty, but
that is not your role in this play.  Isolde is the Domme in this scene,
not you.  You were to be the distraction, the eye candy, the cock tease
- until the trap was sprung.  You were supposed to be non-threatening,
at least in comparison to Isolde, and right now, dear, you almost
frighten me."

"Really?"  And now the tone was definitely Tyrone.  The head tilt was
gone, as was the half smirk.  A frown had replaced both, but it was a
very firm frown that still had no hint of the seductive pout Solange
hoped would indicate that bimbo-Tina was surfacing.  

"Yes, dear," Solange said firmly as she tried to press on.  "You are
completely out of character for this role, and you will destroy the
entire atmosphere of the scene if you go in there as you are now.  In
fact, I've ordered Isolde to rework the plan and be prepared to go
solo."

Tyrone's head snapped around at that.  "She can't do that!"

"Dear, she can't do anything else with you in this character mode," and
there was steel in Solange's voice.  If nothing else, she would make
sure that Tina did not detract from the client's experience in her
dungeon.  "I really think that..."

Solange never got a chance to finish that thought as Ty abruptly stood
up and held out a hand to stop any further comments.  "Give me a
minute," he ordered, and stepped away from the mirror, away from
Solange, into a place only he could go.  His eyes closed as his head
sagged until it was impaled on the long-nailed fingers that were aimed
at his temples.

Then, seconds later, the frown disappeared and the head came up.  

"Well, that's just so totally not going to happen," Tina retorted, in a
tone Solange had not heard this day.  "You just give me like, a couple
of minutes to fix my face, and I'll be ready.  I'll totally like, mess
with that guy's head - both heads - You'll see!  He won't know what hit
him," and she giggled, "Until Isolde breaks out her flogger, anyway.
Hey, Solange-honey, could you help me with my face?  I don't work as
fast as you do and I don't want to be TOO late for the party.  They
might start without me and then I'd have to play catchup!"

Solange was stunned.  In mere seconds, the posture had relaxed to a
hip-shot stance that had her skirt riding up to expose bare flesh and
white garters above the stocking tops.  Her eyes softened and her lips
seemed to relax, taking on a promise of easy sensuality and easier
morals.  Even her movements as she creamed away her cosmetics were less
precise and more haphazard than they had been but minutes earlier when
Solange had watched her on the security camera hidden behind the
mirror.

Taking up a pot of foundation, Solange moved in to help Tina with her
makeup.  Throughout their impromptu make over session, the older Domina
tried to break Tina's new characterization and discovered she couldn't.
Tina, or perhaps it was Ty, had reacted to being told she wasn't ready
to go on stage by shifting into the correct role.  She was now the
bimbo secretary that Isolde needed and expected.  And it wasn't only
the overtly 'sex-on-the-hoof' face that she had just painted on the
girl - it was much, much more than that.

It was, Solange realized, that the person behind the face had become
the role - just as ShaJuana had said she, or rather he, could and would
do if presented with a sufficiently important reason.

"Neat! You're the best, Solange.  I think I'm ready to paint that guy's
balls blue for him, don't you?"  She nearly choked on her laughter, but
Solange managed a nodding agreement.  Tina got to her feet, and gave a
quick hip shimmy to check her balance in the skyscraper heels, and then
grinned down at her still seated boss.  "Great! See you laters, Moms,
and thanks for the assist." Tina gave the still off-balance dominatrix
a quick air kiss on the cheek and then giddily pranced out of the room.

"Moms?  She called me MOMS?  OOOOooo, just wait till I get that girl in
a training session.  She wants to call me Moms, does she?" And then
Solange stopped.  That was perfect for the role, she realized.  

Solange got up and headed for her office.  This was one scene she
wanted to watch in its entirety.  Something told her that Bimbo Tina
was going to surprise more than the client today.  She'd already
surprised Solange.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 9: Secretary's Day at the Dungeon
By Tigger c2008


Tina hurried (as much as she could in the lovely shoes Solange had
given her) up to the playroom that had been designed and decorated to
look like the corporate office of a mid-to-high level manager type.
She swept in, looking for Isolde, but she wasn't in the secretary's
reception area, and the door to the main office was closed.  Absently,
she glanced at her wrist and pouted when she didn't see a wristwatch.
She didn't know what time it was, but it had to be close to the time
when Mr. Jefferson was supposed to meet with Miss Isolde.  

And they weren't ready!

She knocked on Miss Isolde's door, and received the expected order to
"Enter!", so she did.  The look she got from Miss Isolde was one of
horror.  Quickly, Tina closed the door and hurried over to her 'boss.' 
"What's the matter, Miss Isolde?"

"What are YOU doing here?" the tall, Nordic blonde managed to get out. 
"Maitresse Solange told me to plan this as a solo when I told her I
couldn't work with... I mean, when I talked to her earlier."

"Oh, that," Tina scoffed in exaggerated, emotive tones.  "That's all
fixed.  She said I could still come and play.  That way, we won't have
to change the plan.  Won't that be fun?!?"

"Just loads of fun," the Domina replied, apparently unconvinced.  "And
your role in this plan is?"

"Oh, I'm just gonna come in and flit about whenever you signal for me -
chat him up and make him notice me, but not notice anything... umm...
unusual about him until you signal me to do that.  Then, you can punish
me for intruding and he gets a look at my special parts, and you play
it by ear from there."

"And you can do that?  JUST that?"  Tina saw the sexy blonde lick her
lips, and noted that there as a bit of a shine on her cheeks - like she
was glowing.  Heck, she'd have said Isolde was sweating, but then,
everybody knew women like her just totally didn't sweat - that would be
just TOO outre.

"Well, like for sure! We're gonna just completely screw with his head -
the big one, I mean.  You know I don't play, well, hands-on-like, with
his little head, right?"  Isolde managed a hesitant nod.  "FAR-OUT!
Ummm, you got the squirty thingamie?"

"Squirty Thingamie?" Isolde repeated, completely confused.

"You know, the squirty thingie I'm supposed to have with the man-made
spunk it!" Then Tina broke down into a fit of giggles.  "Well, I guess
I should have said 'fake' spunk, 'cause, like, the real stuff is man-
made, too!"

Wide-eyed at this total ditz occupying the same skin as had the Uber-
Domme who not fifteen minutes before all but had her rolling on her
back like a puppy begging for a tummy-rub, Isolde had to shake her head
to get back into her own role.  She opened the desk-drawer and pulled
out a plastic tube, perhaps two inches long and a half-inch in
diameter, that was topped by a plunger and hanging from a fine gold
chain like a locket.  It was filled with a thick, semitransparent white
fluid.  She handed it to Tina.  "You'll need to keep that close to your
body so it is good and warm when we use it."

"Okie-dokey," was the chirped reply.  "Ummm, Miss Isolde?  I had this
teensy idea that I think might be really cool - I just don't know if it
would work and since you are totally more experienced than me, maybe
you'd tell me why it won't do, 'cause it's like majorly messing around
my head and..."

"ENOUGH, already!" Isolde yelled, closing her eyes tight and pressing
her palms to each side of her head as if to keep her skull from
exploding.  She took a deep breath and opened her eyes to glare at
Tina.  "WHAT is your idea?  Make it quick, Jeffie will be here in a few
minutes.  He's already waiting in the foyer downstairs."

"Okay, you know how I'm s'posed to squirt this on his back from behind
when you give me the signal?  Well, I sorta had to wear these panties
today, and what if..."

~-~

When the client finally arrived in the play-room/office suite, Tina was
sitting at her desk, legs crossed, a delicate high heel dangling from
her extended toe, filing her nails.  She didn't acknowledge him,
letting him just stand there, in front of her desk, while she finished
shaping her thumbnail.

Finally, he cleared his throat, noisily, causing Tina to jump.  "Oops,
sorry.  Big date tonight and he just LOVES my pretty nails," she cooed,
flashing the blood-red claws up for his inspection, "Don't you?"

"Don't I ...What?" he finally managed to choke out.  

"Like my pretty nails, silly."  Pouting, Tina put her hands together on
the desk, as if hiding the nails if he wasn't going to properly
appreciate them.  At the same time, out of sight of her visitor, she
carefully toed the hidden button beneath her desk.  As she waited for
the response, she flirtatiously made eye contact with the client.
"Ooooo," she purred appreciatively as her eyes ran slowly up and down
his tall frame, "And what can I do for you, tall, rich and sexy?" she
asked as she leaned a bit towards him, a movement that might have meant
interest, but was intended to unveil more cleavage.

The man nearly drooled, she thought smugly, as she gave him a quick
once over while he dithered in front of her.  Six feet one, and one
eighty, maybe a bit less, and in the kind of shape that screamed
'health club four times a week.'  Brown and brown as the guys on the
cop shows would say.  She wondered if he'd tell her his hair stylist -
it had a nice wave to it.  Great suit, too Brooks Brothers, probably.
One of those meterosexuals she'd read about in Cosmo.  She arched her
brows in query, which didn't do much good since his eyes were fixated
too low to notice.  She cleared her throat instead.

"Ahem, errr, yes," he finally got out, trying unsuccessfully to clear
the clog in his throat.  Tina gave him a brilliant smile that seemed
not to help him at all.  "Ummm, I have an appointment with Ms.
Sigurdsen.  My name is Jefferson."

Tina flashed him her best vacuous smile, and reached for the keyboard
that was in front of her on the desk.  Using the nails of her two index
fingers, she slowly pecked out a series of key strokes, and then
frowned up at her visitor before turning back to the monitor.  She
typed again, just as slowly, and then turned a worried face up to the
power-suited man.  "You're late!" she accused as she toed the floor
button again.  "Ms. Sigurdsen expected you ten minutes ago!"

Suddenly, the intercom on Tina's desk buzzed raucously.  Before she
could make a move, a clearly angry feminine voice demanded, "Is that
idiot, Jefferson, out there yet?!?"  

Tina gave a visible shudder before she toggled the intercom switch to
answer, "Yes, ma'am, he just arrived." 

"Well, tell him to get his slow-moving ass in here right now! I don't
have time for any more of his nonsense!"  

"Yes, ma'am!" Tina chirped, hopping out of her chair to hustle toward
the door behind her desk.

The man blanched, but managed to get out, "But I was here 20 minutes
ago - the receptionist wouldn't let me pass."

"Well, you can tell Ms. Sigurdsen that, maybe that will work," Tina
said from the door, not sounding at all convinced of that.  Jefferson
watched in mild horror as the now cowed secretary cautiously opened the
door, peaked around it and then announced "Mr. Jefferson is here, Ms
Sig..."

"JEFFERSON!  Get in here! NOW!  Tina - you get out! NOW!"

Tina only just barely got her head out of the way as the man literally
ran into the office.  Fighting a smile, she closed the door and hurried
back to her seat.  The digital video camera in the inner office was
already up on her computer screen so all she had to do was open the
window, turn on the speakers, and sit back here in the wings while she
waited for her cues.

~-~

Isolde was dressed in a severely cut dress suit of unrelieved black.
She'd accessorized with a brightly striped regimental tie that matched
her scarlet lip-gloss, black-framed glasses and five-inch black pumps. 
As Jefferson scurried up to her desk, she was irritably smacking a
rolled up sheaf of paper held in one hand against the palm of the
other.  It made, Tina thought, a rather impressive sound.  Jefferson
evidently thought so, since he winced at each smack.

"Do you know what this is?" Isolde demanded, offering him a close look
at the still rolled up papers as she rose to her feet.  In her ice-pick
heels, the blond dominatrix stood almost three inches taller than the
man - an advantage she used most effectively as she rounded the desk so
she could stare down into his eyes.

"Um, no, I don't!"

"THAT'S 'NO, MS.  SIGURDSEN,' Jefferson!"

"N... NO, Ms. Sigurdsen," was the half-mumbled reply.

Isolde grabbed his chin and snapped his head back up to face hers, so
that their noses were all but touching.  "It is that sorry excuse for a
monthly report you just sent in.  Not only did you fail to make your
quota of sales - AGAIN - but you falsified your report so that I
wouldn't CATCH it!  WHAT HAVE YOU TO SAY BEFORE I FIRE YOUR LYING,
USELESS ASS??!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Sigurdsen," he whined, wringing his hands, "REALLY, I
am.  And I really need this job."

"I need someone who can DO your damned job!"

"I can do it, Ms. Sigurdsen, really I can.  Just give me a chance."

"I've given you a chance - several chances, and THIS," she snarled, all
but spitting her fury into his face, "Is what I get!"

"Just once more, I can do it - you'll see! I'll do anything you say -
however you say!  Just one more chance, please."

Isolde stood up and stepped back, a thoughtful finger at her lips which
then curled into a thoroughly frightening smile.  "Anything, eh?
However I say?  All right.  Perhaps what you need is motivation.  DROP
YOUR PANTS!" she snapped.

"Huh, what?  My pants?"

"You heard me, asshole.  I want your ass bare and your hands flat on my
desk in ten seconds or you can leave by way of payroll for your last
check! 10... 9... 8..."

By six, his belt was undone, by two, his pants and shorts were at his
ankles and his hands hit the desktop just as Isolde reached "Zero."

She kicked his legs apart until his pants were taut about his ankles.
With her elbow resting on his bent over shoulder, she hissed out, "If
you so much as twitch those hands, I will call security and tell them
you are a flasher, got it?"

"Yes, Ms. Sigurdsen!" he yelped.

"I think I'd prefer you call me 'Mistress' just now, Jeffie.  Got
that?"

"Yes, Ms. Sig, I mean, Mistress."

"Better - not good, mind you, but better.  Now, I want you to find out
what happens to bad little boys who lie!" With that, the stern-faced
blonde smacked the paper-roll against 'Jeffie's' bare buttocks.  She
reversed into a backstroke, only to have the rolled up 'report' buckle
in her hand.  "Look at that," she snapped, sticking the wad of paper
under his nose, "it's not even good enough for this!"

Tina watched as Isolde began to spank her sub by hand, building up in
both frequency and intensity, until both buttocks were noticeably
redder in color and he was starting to whimper or cry out with each
stroke of Isolde's hand.

Tina almost missed it, she was so engrossed in the harsh eroticism of
the scene, but she did catch the second beckoning motion that was her
first cue.  She hurried over to the door, knocked twice and began to
open the door.  "Ms. Sigurdsen?" she called out.

Jefferson, upon hearing the new voice, stood straight up, glanced about
and saw his chance.  He plopped his burning bum down the office chair
that faced Isolde's desk, and faced away from the door so that only his
head and shoulders would be visible from that vantage.

"I told you not to disturb me, girl," Isolde said ominously.  "What is
it?"

"It's the president, Ms. Sigurdsen," Tina said in a very small voice.
"He wants to know if you still need that meeting to discuss personnel
actions?  He has a few minutes right now?"

Isolde seemed to consider that, and then scowled down at the man in her
guest chair.  "Tell him I'm still working on my plan.  Ask him if he
could find a few moments for me after lunch?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Tina replied quickly, and started to leave.

"Tina?  Only come back if the answer is no.  Now, do not disturb me
again."

"Yes, Ma'am.  No, ma'am."

~-~

Tina closed the door and rushed back to her ringside seat.  This was
fun!  More than that, it was exciting being part of Isolde's game.

Isolde turned ice-cold blue eyes on her subordinate.  "Didn't I tell
you to STAY WHERE I PUT YOU?" she yelled, grabbing the lobe of his ear
using the nails of her thumb and forefinger and pulling him to his
feet.  "It seems you can't do something even so simple as that!  Do you
want to lose this job, Mr. Jefferson?"

"No, Ms. Sigurdsen! I really need the job."

"That's 'No, Mistress,' fool.  Okay, you get ONE... LAST... CHANCE!
Screw up, and you're gone - Got it?"  He nodded, and winced as the
motion made the blonde's sharp nails dig deeper into the flesh of his
ear.  "I didn't hear you, Mister Jefferson.  I asked if you 'Got it?'."

"Yes, Mistress, I got it."

"All right, then, since you can't seem to stay put, I'll help you.
First, I want you to strip - down to the skin.  RIGHT NOW!" 

With great haste, Jefferson began getting out of his clothing as
quickly as he could, given that his trousers and boxers had him nearly
falling over.  "No wonder you can't do anything correctly, Jefferson!
Evidently your Mother didn't educate you properly.  Fold those garments
neatly and be quick about it or you're not going to be able to sit
easily for DAYS!"

Isolde was berating him for effect, now, Tina realized, and evidently
the guy liked it on some level.  He was fully erect by the time he'd
managed to fold the last of his clothes to Isolde's demanding
standards.  He was directed to a coffee table against the wall between
inner and outer office spaces, requiring Tina to switch cameras in
order to continue to follow the action.  It was a very heavily built
design with leather cushioning along the edges of the upper table.
Isolde and Tina had specially repositioned it just before they'd called
down to reception to let Jefferson into the dungeon.  As it was, anyone
entering the room would have to get all the way in, and look around the
open door in order to see the table, or as Isolde had put it, anyone
attached TO the table.

>From a hidden wall locker, Isolde removed four leather cuffs which she
attached to her sub just above each elbow and knee.  She positioned him
so he was laying over the top of the table with his chest and stomach
on the flat surface.  Then she attached turnbuckles to between the D-
rings on the cuffs, so that the right knee was connected to the right
elbow and the left elbow to the left knee beneath the table.  Isolde
used an odd-looking hand tool to tighten the turnbuckles, carefully
pulling the knees and the elbows together.  By the time she was
finished, perhaps half a foot separated elbow from knee, and his thighs
and upper arms were hugging the underside of the table top.  Only his
toes and fingertips could touch the floor, and then only to little
benefit.  Finally, she added two bungee cords, attached to the
turnbuckles on one end and to two of the table legs, so that the cords
pulled the bound limbs outward, forcibly spreading the hapless victim's
legs.  Stretched out to his limit, his position provided the lovely
Mistress easy access to both his dangling genitals and his ass.  He
could, with a great deal of strain and effort, pull his limbs back
together to protect his precious parts, but the unrelenting force of
the bungee cords would ultimately win out, sooner or later.

"Hell, Jefferson, you call that a penis?" Isolde demanded from behind
her straining submissive, using a long, thin leather crop to poke at
his still rigid manhood.  He instantly lurched in an effort to close
his legs protectively.  He managed to do it, but bare seconds later;
the bungees began their inevitable contraction, leaving him once more
open to and helpless against whatever his Mistress had in mind for him.

"Now, we'll get on with that learning experience you weren't man enough
to take standing still, Jeffie," Isolde said.  "Try not to yell too
much.  Tina is SUCH a gossip, and believe me, you'll have every girl in
the office, from the typing pool to the boardroom talking about your
cute little ass and your tiny little dick.  Maybe even some of the
boys.  Now THERE'S an idea! Want me to find you a boyfriend, Jeffie?
Maybe a tough Dom to help you keep you on track?" With that, she lashed
out, flicking the crop across his tautly stretched bottom, earning a
squeal, but leaving no mark.

Tina marveled at the control Isolde demonstrated with that implement.
She knew, from her experience with DeeDee, that such a crop could leave
welts, and had done on her own bottom, that lasted a couple of days.
Miss Isolde was GOOD!  

Suddenly she stopped, and strode over to her desk.  She buzzed the
intercom.  Tina answered immediately, "Yes, Ms. Sigurdsen?"

"Bring me a bottle of cold water, please."

Tina was in the room in about two minutes, and as planned, stopped just
out of the line of sight to the bound man.  "Mr. Jefferson, do you want
some water?"

He took a minute to realize that Isolde wasn't going to answer and that
he had to.  "Umm, no, Miss, thank you all the same.  I'm... fine,
here... just as I am."

Isolde closed the door and walked over to the chair that fronted the
table/spanking bench.  Sitting down, she began to sip from the bottle,
her eyes watching him watch her.  She saw it in his eyes the instant he
caught her "Basic Instinct" moment.  Languidly, she toed off one of her
heels and put the ball of one stockinged foot up under his nose,
forcing his head up so he was looking at her face and not her crotch.
"You aren't, by any chance, looking up my skirt, are you?" she asked,
in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice, before slipping her foot down
to give him a little upward kick under the chin.  "And don't lie,
Jeffie," she ordered as she resumed wiping his face with the bottom of
her foot.  "Or you won't be able to sit until sometime next week!"

"Umm, Yesth, Mistresth," he said, sounding as if his head were stuffed
- which it was - only with Isolde' s toes.

"Well, you must like looking," she observed as she reached out the crop
to swat gently at the crimson head of his erection, "otherwise you
wouldn't be so hard."  She reached over and ruffled his still groomed
hair.  "Good boy."  She rose from the chair and stripped off her skirt,
tossing it negligently so that it fell over his head, effectively
blinding him in any direction except straight ahead.  He could hear her
rummaging around behind him, but could see nothing.  "I think that bit
of truth deserves a reward, Jeffie," There was the ominous and
unmistakable snapping sound of a pair of latex gloves being donned, and
Tina saw the sub go rigid.

Tina was becoming more and more engrossed in the scene, watching as the
tall blonde dominatrice used something from a tube to lubricate her
hands.  She reached down to the crack of her client's buttocks, and let
him try to close up.  He almost managed it this time, but not quite.
Moments later she was carefully rubbing the gooey substance up and down
his crease.  "Yes, since that pee-pee of yours is never going to do any
girl any good, I think we'll just give you a little practice so you're
ready for those boys, instead."  A shriek of dismay signaled her
penetration of him.  "Ooooo, you like that, do you - feel how you're
gripping and massaging my finger, Jeffie.  Oh, you're going to be SUCH
a popular little ass-slut! I can tell."

Removing her finger, she cautiously probed him again, while watching
the reaction of his erection.  Tina could see it starting to flex in
time to Isolde's stroking finger.  The tall blond removed her finger
and picked up a long, thin dildo.  "I think you're ready for this,
Jeffie, and if you're not, well, you will be.  Now hold still!"  She
gave him a jab with tip of the sex-toy, and he went mad.  He pulled, he
pushed, he danced, he wiggled - anything to make the slightest movement
so she couldn't line the toy up to penetrate him.  She slapped him hard
on the ass, "Stop that and stay still, you naughty boy!"  

She could have gotten it in, Tina realized, without any trouble.  He
simply couldn't move that much, but that wasn't in the plan.  Isolde
had told Tina to expect Jefferson would respond like this - fighting
the consummation he actually devoutly desired.  Well, that just wasn't
in the cards today, she thought smugly, as she saw the signal for her
final cue.  Isolde strode to the desk and pressed the intercom call
button.  "Tina, get your ass in here -I need you now!"

Tina hurried in and closed the door behind her.  "Yes, Mistress?" she
asked, in the role now of submissive instead of the ditzy secretary.

"Get over here," Isolde snapped.  "I need some help here!"

Tina turned and saw the flesh and blood version of the man she'd seen
on screen.  "Oh, Mistress, are we going to play with him?"

"No, you silly slut.  I'm trying to train him!  Look at that miserable
excuse for a dick - he needs to learn to be the fuckee, because he sure
as hell isn't going to be the fucker."

"Oh, that sounds like fun! What do I get to do??"

"Come over here and hold his head tight between your thighs, then bend
over him and hold his ass apart!  I can't get him to stop wiggling!"

Tina did as ordered, being sure to use the reinforced tops of her
stockings to give his ears a bit of a rub, before settling down to do
as she had been ordered.  Tina had to give the guy credit -he kept
fighting, despite orders and threats to the contrary, he didn't keep
still.  She figured he'd have a bruise or two or three tomorrow, around
his anus, as Isolde kept 'missing' her target with the hard plastic
sex-toy.

"Oooohhh, Mistress Isolde, all his wiggling is, like, making me just
totally wet between my legs," she cooed, and gave another shimmy and
ear-rub to Isolde's willing victim.

"Everything makes you wet between the legs, slut," Isolde retorted,
"And I'm getting tired of this nonsense.  You said you'd do what I told
you to do, Jeffie, and you haven't!  So I guess you're lying to me
again.  What did I tell you would happen if you lied to me?"

"You said I wouldn't sit for a week," came the muffled voice from under
Tina's skirt.  

"Close enough!  Tina?  Jeffie here is about to get whipped for his
failures -  maybe that will make him move enough to really get you off,
slut."

"Oh, but Mistress.  The company president is here today, and I don't
think your office is soundproofed on the wall to his office.  I mean,
well Jeffie's kinda cute in a girly-sort of way, but he just doesn't
look, you know, really tough to me.  I bet he just, like, majorly
screams, you know?  Louder than me, even."

"Hadn't thought of that, slut.  Yeah, I think a baby-dick like him is
going to scream.  Well, it's too bad, but I guess I'll just have to gag
him.  You say he got you wet, slut?"

"Oh, yes, Mistress, my panties are just dripping! OOOOOooohhhhhhhhhh!"
Tina groaned, suddenly squirming vigorously on Jefferson's head to fake
an orgasm.

"Are they?  Well, Jeffie, I guess you get a choice.  I have this lovely
ring gag, but if you'd prefer, we can use Slut's wet panties.  and a
lovely leather strap to hold it in."

"Panties, please Mistress."

At Isolde's nod, Tina hopped off her perch and sat on the seat the
dominatrice had recently vacated.  Palming the 'squirty thingie', she
reached under her skirt and drenched them and herself with fake semen. 
She lifted her bottom off the chair, making sure Jefferson had a clear
view of her crotch, and pulled off the dripping panties, and showing
off her own very hard erection.  "See, Mistress," she sighed, holding
the panties out so that they dripped onto the top of the restrained
man's head.

Jefferson took one look at Tina's hard-on, felt the warm thick liquid
dripping on him and put two and two together.  "YELLOW!" he bellowed.
Isolde shot Tina a knowing smirk from behind her sub.

"I think we'll go with the ring gag, after all.  He doesn't deserve to
have your juices, slut.  He hasn't earned them."

The gag was quickly installed.  Tina thought he looked like a hooked
largemouth bass, and giggled, earning another smirk from the
dominatrice.

This cropping was much more in line with what Tina had experienced
under Mistress Deirdre.  As per plan, Tina stood in front of Jefferson,
her penis swinging about freely and, to her surprise, still hard.  She
hadn't planned on this being sexy, but it had been.  She giggled again
at the situation, finding the man's predicament and her role in
creating it more than a little humorous.

The cropping slowly subsided, leaving the restrained man sweaty,
shaking, and still hard as a rock.  Isolde set aside her crop and
picked the dildo back up.  She teased him with it now, her free hand
gripping and releasing his cock.

"Did I tell you, Jeffie, that Tina's dick will fit through the ring gag
just fine?  Would you like to try," she asked, her voice offering both
dark menace and promise.  He shook his head wildly, a sound like
"OOOOOOHHHHH" issuing forth from him due to the gag making it difficult
for him to make the 'n' sound and say 'no'.

"Well, you aren't fighting anymore," she said thoughtfully as she
stroked his erection more quickly, "But you don't seem to be really
relaxed about this - maybe you'd rather Slut do you?"

"Oh, Mistress, Can I?" Tina squealed, prancing around behind him.

Isolde changed from the hard plastic cock to a soft, lifelike silicone
toy and puts that to his ass, "Okay, slut, that's right, and I've
already lubed him up.  Just take a deep breath, and..."

Two things happened nearly simultaneously.  Isolde's stroking pushed
him over the edge and he came with a roar of "AAAEeehhhhh-OOOOHHH!!"
which both women recognized as a ring-gagged Yellow-code.  Smiling with
satisfaction, Isolde removed the sex-toy, and gentled her strokes,
soothingly pulling the last dregs of orgasmic release from him.  

Tina stamped her foot at that.  "Well, darn it, Miss Isolde, Like,
can't I still do it?  I, like, totally want to do that cute little
butt!"

Jefferson began snapping the fingers of both hands in a repeated two-
beat rhythm  which Isolde had told Tina was his gagged yellow code.
Well, she thought, at least we heard  Yellow' correctly.

"Maybe next time, slut," the dominatrice replied, as she stood up
behind her sweating, submissive.  "That is, if you've been good and
he's been naughty."  Then Isolde winked at Tina, and motioned her to
slip out of the room.  It was time for scene aftercare, and that was
the responsibility of the Mistress in charge of the scene.

~-~

Still so aroused that her erection tented the front of her short skirt,
Tina sat at 'her' desk watching the end-game between Mistress and slave
on the screen of her computer.

Isolde, again fully clad in her skirt, had ordered her submissive to
dress.  Now she stood before him, leaning her bottom against the front
of her desk, arms crossed beneath her substantial bosom.  Her sub,
still recovering from the scene's intense emotional and physical
outpouring, sat - rather uncomfortably, Tina noticed - in the office
guest chair.  "You came without permission, Mr. Jefferson," Isolde
said, her voice much like that a teacher disappointed at having to
award her pet student a grade of D-minus.  "You know the rules, and yet
you didn't even ask for permission.  Care to explain why?"

"No excuse, Mistress," he replied.  "I was distracted by your secretary
and was not paying attention."

"Exactly, and what are the consequences of such behavior, Mr.
Jefferson?"

"I have to select a punishment card and comply with the card, or cease
being allowed to attend you."

"Correct.  I see that you at least KNOW the rules, even if you do not
seem to be capable of following them consistently.  Are you willing to
accept the luck of the draw, Mr Jefferson?"

"Yes, Mistress, I am."

Isolde picked up a deck of what might have been ordinary playing cards
from the desk, fanned them between her two hands, and offered the
fanned deck to Jefferson.  He selected one and immediately looked at
it.  Grimacing, he offered it to Isolde.  She read it, and smiled.
"Which do you select, Mr. Jefferson?  At least one week locked in a
male chastity device which may only be removed by me during a session,
or two months of forced abstinence from my presence and dungeon?"

"I will take the chastity," he said, with a small smile on his face.

That tall dominatrice moved behind the desk and retrieved a small box
from one of the  drawers.  This she handed it to her submissive.  "Then
go into the powder room and put this on.  I will affix my personalized
plastic lock to it before you leave.  Remember, if there is an
emergency that requires you to cut off the lock to remove the device, I
expect to be called as soon as possible to be given the particulars."

~-~

Tina couldn't help staring at the man's crotch when he stopped by her
desk to thank her for her participation and to leave a sealed envelope
with her.  He saw her staring, and blushed to the roots of his restyled
hairline, which made her giggle.  Maybe he looked a little less flat in
front, but she couldn't really tell.  He left, and shortly thereafter,
Isolde came out.

"That was like, totally COOL," Tina gushed, "I mean, like just frosty!"

"It went well," Isolde agreed, leaning a shapely hip on the corner of
Tina's desk.  "We messed with his head, and he will not be quite so
complacent about his trips into my little play-world.  He's not all
that strange a combination.  He's almost bi-curious in that he really
loves anal play, but at the same time, he's not able to make the leap
to accepting that pleasure from anyone but a female.  I find a lot of
hetero guys are like that once they get their bottoms broken in by a
woman who knows what she's doing.  They just can't accept the final
step in real life, even if it excites the hell out of them when they
dream their deepest darkest fantasies."

"Well, you were just the ult in there.  I'm just, like, SO impressed."

"Hey, tone down the Val-speak, girl.  He's gone!" Isolde laughed.  "I
accept that you're not going to jump my bones and blister my butt for
me, okay?"

Tina giggled at that, and then relaxed.  "Okay.  But let me know if you
change your mind about you butt.  I mean, anything to help, y'know?"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: Reflections: Some Don't Like it Hot


Solange turned off the playback of the security video recording and sat
back in her chair.  She hadn't realized until that moment that she'd
literally been on the 'edge of her seat' as she'd watched the recorded
scene.  

Just as she had each of the other four times she'd watched it in its
entirety.  From one perspective, she was forced to conclude that the
experiment had not been a success, and yet, it had gone much the way
she'd expected.  

The lack of success had not been because either participant had failed
to give their best.  Heavens, she mused, Deirdre had been at the top of
her game, using every trick in her considerable repertoire to reach
into her partner and pull him into that timeless time and placeless
place called 'sub-space'.  The bottom in the scene had tried, too.
That was clear from the visual and audio evidence.  

It may well turn out to have been an error on her part, she thought,
but she'd wanted to know how Tyrone Edwards, not any of his 'Tina-
characterizations,' would react when bottoming in a scene.  What
clearly had been an error, and only time would tell how major an error,
had been Solange's choice of the type of scene and her choice of the
Mistress who had orchestrated the 'experience' for Ty.

Tyrone had, indeed, tried very hard.  He'd 'submitted' willingly and
had endured every implement, every stroke.  He had gone beyond her
expectations, clearly trying to find in the experience what he'd been
told others found in this type of scene.  Too far, she told herself,
because he'd finally had to give DeeDee the red light stop-the-scene
safe code.  The genital restraint DeeDee habitually used in major
corporal sessions, primarily to protect his privates from any missed
blows, had slipped.  The device had become painfully tight about his
scrotum and testicles, which was potentially dangerous.  Deirdre had
correctly ended the scene immediately, freed her partner and signaled
for the on-site nurse.  Fortunately no real physical harm had been done
to the actor/trainee, but the potential damage this could cause to
Solange's long-term plans might be considerable.

Well, now she knew for certain what she'd already suspected before
watching the recording one last time.  Not once during the entire scene
had he become fully erect.  He'd nearly made it right at the very
beginning, when he'd first seen DeeDee enter the playroom in all her
fully leathered glory.  Of course, that wasn't surprising, Solange
admitted.  The perky little cheerleader-cum-whip mistress could pull
wood from a dead man when she really dressed for effect, and she had
done just that.  Solange wondered what Tyrone's reaction would be if he
learned just how much extra they'd charge one of their regular clients
for such a scene?

Shocked disbelief, probably.

A knock on her door roused her from her ruminations.  A glance at her
computer monitor told her that, as usual, he was right on time.  "Come
in, Ty," she called, and smiled as he let himself into her office.  She
indicated his usual chair opposite her desk, then noticed how carefully
he settled his body down and resisted the urge to sigh.  "Still so sore
as that?" she asked.

The young man winced, and then smiled wryly.  "I'm okay once I'm
stationary, and I'm okay once I've been moving awhile, but In between? 
I hurt ... a lot."

"You waited too long to call an end to it, Ty.  I told you that there
would be no salary penalty for using your safe code."

He shrugged, and the thoughtless movement cost him.  "I know you and
DeeDee told me that there are a lot of guys out there who get off on
her stuff - that corporal and whip play?  I guess I sort of kept
waiting for that 'flying thing' to happen.  It didn't.  I'll tell you
up front, that since this is our weekly reflection on limits meeting?
No way am I one of those guys that get off on this!  I'd say that, from
now on?  Whipping and heavy stuff like that is a limit for me,  I won't
hesitate to safeword if I so much as even SEE that long, what did
DeeDee call it?  Oh, yeah that single tail thing." 

"I would agree with your assessment of heavy corporal play being a hard
limit for you," Solange agreed carefully.  "In my after-scene
discussions with her, Deirdre indicated that at no time during the
actual scene were you in the least aroused."

"Well," Ty demurred shyly, "maybe a little when I first saw her, and
during the hand and light paddle spanking.  She's good at that, if not
as good as you are."

"Yessss," Solange replied, stretching the word out, "you did seem to
enjoy the spanking I gave you the other day.  As I recall, Tina made a
rather large mess all over my gown in that training session.  And nary
a finger touched her private parts, either."

Ty frowned in thought, "Yeah, but that was different."

Solange nodded.  "Agreed, but what MADE the experiences so different?"

Ty opened his journal, and scanned a couple of pages filled with his
handwriting.  "Part of it, I think, was intent, and another part was
the intensity."

"I think I understand the bit about intensity.  Explain what you mean
by intent."

"You intended to arouse me, Solange," the young man said confidently.
"You may not have provided much in the way of direct stimulation to my
cock, but it felt like you were looking for, I don't know, a connection
between my very warm ass and my erection.  Once you found it, you
started teasing at that connection instead of just swatting me; playing
around the 'magic spot', drawing the whole thing out.  That was pretty
obvious, even in my then sensory-overloaded condition."

"I'll have to work on not being so obvious about such things," she
murmured, but her eyes twinkled in obvious amusement at his
observations.  

Encouraged by her acceptance, Ty continued, "Another thing, I think?
Once you found it, and you were sure you'd found it?  Look, I don't
know how I know this, but I'm positive you could have gotten me off
that way anytime you wanted, and you DID want to, just not quite then. 
That's what I mean by intent.  All that role-playing in our scene?  The
stern school mistress, the naughty little school girl and all that?
Just window dressing for the main plot of your scene  your intent was
to make me cum from that spanking.  And I didn't even mind the sore
fanny afterwards, either."

"Hmmm, yes.  That odd, almost-female empathy of yours at work again, I
see.  Well, you're correct.  I DO rather enjoy getting my toys to soil
themselves by methods such as that, when pain so clearly becomes
pleasure.  However, suppose I were to tell you that, by my orders, that
was precisely the same 'intent' that Deirdre had for her training
session with you?  She was to find the right tool and the means to push
you into sub-space, and then beat an orgasm out of you."

"I didn't experience anything like that," he replied earnestly, wincing
again as he instinctively shifted his position forward in his seat to
make the point.  "I mean, I really like Deedee, and I know she likes
me, so I knew she didn't go into that scene to really hurt me, okay?
And I accept that there are guys who come here just so she can have at
them.  It's the other part I don't get, particularly after spending a
not-very-pleasant couple of hours in her keeping.  WHY do they do it,
or rather, PAY her do that to them?  It freakin' hurts! Hell, it STILL
hurts! I just don't get it."

"Obviously.  Ty, there are essentially two reasons a person submits him
or herself to a session with someone like Deirdre.  The first reason is
the one you tried to achieve, but evidently find yourself
constitutionally unable to do  that is  find physical pleasure from the
pain, to the point of climax and release.  And before you ask, let me
assure you that, on any number of occasions, I have witnessed DeeDee
accomplish just that, with only the use of her corporal implements and
skills.  When she decides to combine the 'thud' with verbal and
physical teasing, or better yet, a penis flogger, she can be
devastating on the senses and psyche of someone who is in sub-space.
I've seen clients simply pass out from the force of the orgasm she
pulls out of them."

"Oh, I believe you, Solange, I just don't believe that would ever be
me!  I don't think I heard any teasing or felt anything but the strikes
because I was too busy trying to control myself." The older woman
nodded her understanding.  "You said there were TWO reasons?"

"Actually, three, now that I think about it.  You did it because I told
you to do it as part of your on-the-job training.  Others do it to, I
guess to prove something is the best description I can give you.  Most
often, that type of submissive, for it almost always is a submissive,
accepts such a scene to prove themselves to their dominant partner.
Like a knight in shining armor fighting a trial of some type to the
honor of his or her lady fair."

"And getting beat all to hell doing it!" Ty blurted.  "Sorry."

Solange shook her head.  "No need to apologize, for there's some truth
in that.  There are people within the BDSM community for whom the 'S'
for Sadism part is very much integral to their sexual make up.  So long
as their play is safe, sane and consensual, and does not go too near
the edge, we accommodate them here at my dungeon.  DeeDee has the skill
to take a submissive right up to that edge, yet no further.  Many
experienced players know they are not nearly so accomplished, and so
they come here for Deirdre to work with their submissive while the
Sadist/Dominant partner assists or simply watches from the sidelines.
I'm told that knowing they are the reason their submissive accepts the
scene is almost as good as doing it themselves," She shook her head.
"But, truth to tell?  I don't get that part, either."

"Like doing it to them yourself a whole lot more, eh?" Ty asked,
grinning.

"That's not what I meant, although again, you are correct.  No, that
level of play  the intensity as you called it - that doesn't work for
me.  I want my subs going into places they wouldn't willingly go
without me pressing them to go, but it is their heads I really want to
mess with, not their bodies.  I want their emotions, not their
endurance."

"I think, that if I was connecting with someone, a domme, who was
really, really into that kind of stuff?  Who needed that type of
tribute?  It would fall into the category of irreconcilable
differences.  I mean, I can see enduring pain for a goal, or against a
real measurable challenge.  You know, like training for a marathon, or
one of those Iron Man things  that would hurt, but in the end, you'd
have accomplished something.  You'd have won.  I'm not sure I could say
the same about passively taking a beating to make my Lady Fair feel
good.  Seems kind of, I don't know, transitory, and would have to be
done again and again.  No, not for me!"

"Well explained.  You know, I never thought of ordering a submissive to
train for a marathon before." Solange's voice went dreamy as the image
of herself on a bicycle, following a running man dressed only in shorts
and road shoes with her favorite paddle carried conspicuously in the
bike's basket.  "Lovely idea," she said, and then brought herself back.
"So, what do we say we've learned about you as a player in my little
world, Tyrone?"

"I'm not going to be playing with DeeDee again, that's for sure!"

Solange laughed.  "Yes, I think we've established that you are not a
masochist.  And I think, not a sadist either.  Neither am I.  Many of
my Mistresses are not.  Being a Dominant is not synonymous with being a
sadist, nor is being a submissive mean one is a masochist."

"But you and ShaJuana both use whips in your scenes  I've seen you
heck, I've FELT you!"

"True enough, but using them on our subbies' hides is not the focus of
what either of us do in our scenes.  Look, let's take ShaJuana as an
example since I'm far too modest to brag about myself..." She smiled at
Ty's snort of laughter.  

"What are the primary aspects of Mistress ShaJuana Price's bag of
tricks as a Domina?  First and foremost, our Juana is a cock-tease of
the highest order.  She's absolutely gorgeous, knows it and knows how
to use her gifts to drive men helplessly into lust.  She thoroughly
enjoys getting a client mad with desire only to deny them any form of
release again and again throughout the scene.  Unfortunately for her
clients, she is also an accomplished bondage Mistress, so there's not
much they can do about her cock-teasing ways or their ever growing
frustration.  Sometimes she combines that with sensory deprivation,
such as blindfolds and earplugs, or she'll use a steady patter of
verbal teasing and abuse to key the client up even further.  She also
loves humiliation play with a client who gets off being forced to be
the center of attention, supposedly against his will, and she's superb
at forced femme play."

"No kidding!" Ty laughed.  "Never would have guessed that!"

"Scamp," Solange smiled affectionately.  "And, while ShaJuana does use
a whip or some other corporal punishment implement in most of her
scenes, it is usually no more than a prop  or maybe a badge of office -
something that says, 'I'm the Domme here, buster, so you'd better
behave.'  Of course, she will give her subs a fanny slap or two, maybe
swat their butts with a crop or paddle  we all do that at some point or
another  but it is never severe or particularly intense.  Usually, it
is nothing more than a 'wake-up' or a stinger.  Something to get the
submissive's attention back on her program and to remind him who is in
charge."

"I see.  Well, Juana told me that she had to do all the scenes as a
submissive..."

"We prefer the term 'bottom' for a Mistress or a Mistress in training,"
Solange interrupted, and then apologized.  "Sorry.  Please continue
with your question."

"Okay, she got everything done to her in her training, I guess that
since I safeworded with DeeDee, I won't be working as a TV Domme or
male Dom here very often?

"Would you still want to, Ty?" she asked, carefully.

The look on his face was telling, she thought.  "I, ah, well umm, don't
you have any woman clients?"

"Some, although most are looking for a Mistress who will 'force' them
to explore their bi-curiosity.  A TV Mistress, or even a dominant male,
you say?" She allowed some time to pass as she looked to be considering
that.  "You've already served as a TV submissive in some scenes and as
attendant in others.  After your admittedly unpleasant experience with
Deirdre, do you think you would be able to bottom for a client, that
is, to a female client?"

The answer was immediate.  "Only to a female, Solange, and only if it
did not require any of the heavy stuff that DeeDee does."

"I see.  May I ask why you're looking to broaden your scope, as it
were?  Are you becoming enamored of our lifestyle here?"

The face that looked back to her was open, earnest and still very, very
young.  She would have to remember that fact, she told herself.

"Partly.  The acting is fun and challenging, and of course, unlike
anything I've ever done before.  The staging and the props well, I'm
using my training for that here even if I am way off-off-off Broadway. 
I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not going to get to play
Broadway  not as a leading man, anyway, and there are already a lot of
good character actors out there competing for the same roles I might be
suited to play.  Here at your dungeon?  I get to be the star, or at
least, be first supporting actor or actress, and I get to see lots of
pretty girls in very sexy outfits.  But the biggest reason I'm thinking
about something like that is I'm considering going back to school and I
kinda need the money.

"School?  Doing what?"

A livid blush colored the young man's face, so Solange knew this was
important  very important  to him.  "Ummm, could I keep it a secret, at
least until I know if... if it is possible?  I'm enough of a theater
rat to want to avoid jinxing myself."

Solange smiled.  "Oh, all right.  But I think you sell yourself short
as being just a character actor, but you know the world of theater
better than I, I'm sure."

"Well, thanks.  Do you think it is possible there might be something in
the idea  the me as the duty male/TV player for the house, that is?"

She waited again, looking pensive.  "There might be some profit to be
had in that.  But you'll have to be able to work independently  without
one of my ladies as the Domme-in-charge.  Now that I think about it,
there are some of the female clients I believe might consider a
'Mistress', but who would not want a 'real' woman in there with them.
Your, ah, male attributes would make you acceptable to them, even if
you will look better in a short skirt, hose and heels than they will.
Yes, I think there might interest, but it will mean advertizing your
true gender to those who might consider such a service.  In addition,
there is a great deal to learn about safety, first aid and, believe or
not, customer relations when you are the only person in the playroom
with a client.  "

"I knew that when I asked, Solange.  It's okay.  So I'll need more
training.  I can do it," Ty observed, lightly.

"Indeed you can and will, young man, for there are a couple of
experiences you will need to face before you can take up such duties,"
Solange said smartly, "And, I think, a final exam, as well."

"A what?"

"A final exam, my dear, to prove you are ready to be in charge of a
client's submission and their pleasure," the smile she gave the young
actor was one of her best - feline, predatory and a lot frightening.
"And now that I think of it, I do believe that I have just the
opportunity for Mistress Antinea to pass her final exam and then win
her spurs..."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 10: A Mid-Autumn Day Dream-Day
By Tigger c2008


"Please move more smartly, Tyrone," Solange said sharply, "We have a
great deal to accomplish before your playroom session today."

Bemused by his mentor's obvious haste, Ty stole a glance at his watch. 
"But, Solange, it's just barely past eight in the morning! That scene
doesn't start for another six hours yet!"

"No, your session starts in six hours, but the entire scene starts
now," the regal Mistress replied, a slightly scary smile curving her
full lips.

"We'll be in Prep Room 8 today," she continued, surprising him down to
his toes.  Despite his short time working at the dungeon, he'd learned
just how rarely that prep room was used.  In fact, he'd only seen it
occupied twice.  The first time had been when a high-profile visiting
Domina had made use of one of the dungeon's playrooms and had wanted to
see personally to her submissive's preparations.  The other time had
involved a wife-mistress who had relaxed in there while watching DeeDee
work over her subby-hubby on the closed circuit television system.

They reached the room and Solange entered first, and then made a grand
gesture of waving him into the room "My dear, the experience of your
lifetime awaits you!"

Ty cautiously entered the room and made a quick scan of the room.  He
took in the dainty lingerie laid out on the duvet of a canopied bed.
There were elegantly strict heels on the floor beside the bed.  Then he
saw the rest of the costume, sealed in plastic, hanging from the
canopy's frame, and felt the world around him slip away.  He didn't
even hear the door latching behind him as he came to grips with
precisely what Solange intended for his session.

"You have got to be kidding me!?!"

"As I have told you on numerous occasions, slave, I do not EVER kid.
And from this moment until you are told the session is over, you are in
scene and the only way it ends before you are released by the Mistress-
in-charge is to use your safeword.  Do you understand?"

Ty looked around the room one more time, swallowed hard, and then,
resigned, sighed, "Yes, Maitresse, I understand."

"Do you consent?"

Now, Ty swallowed, and momentarily closed his eyes.  He needed the
money or he'd lose the opportunity before it was even fully offered.
He nodded.  "I consent, Maitresse."

"For the record, speak you safeword."

"Maitresse, my safeword is 'Shakespeare,'" he answered solemnly.

"One last thing, Mr. Edwards.  You understand that you do not have a
caution word in this scene?  The play continues at the discretion of
the Mistress in charge and at the pace she sets until the scene ends,
either by her order or your safeword.  Do you understand that?"

All or nothing, he told himself.  "I understand, Maitresse."

"Very well, then.  Strip out of those ridiculous clothes and go use
what I've laid out for you  in the bath to remove all your body hair
everything below your eyes.  It has been entirely too long since you
have properly depilitated yourself.  Then, we'll see to your bubble
bath."  When Ty hesitated  just slightly Solange snapped.  "Move it,
young man, unless you would prefer to experience an all-over Brazilian
body waxing while strapped to a torture rack!  In fact, I have three
Mistresses standing by in the Torquemada Room, just itching for the
opportunity to help prepare you!"

Ty moved it!

~-~

"Isn't this just a little over the top, Maitresse?  Even for here?"

Solange fought back a smile, and continued brushing out her slave's now
long blond hair.  "Even for here?" she asked, in offended, exaggerated
tones.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All... THIS," Ty replied, gesturing with one hand to indicate the
entire room, "I don't get why it's necessary.  I mean, I agreed to..."

"You agreed to do this scene," Solange replied, her tones implacable.
"I told you that I would script this experience for you.  I think what
I have planned for you is more than reasonable given what you claim you
want to do here.  Lord above, slave boy, I even permitted you your
choice of the attending dominatrice.  Let me tell you, there was quite
the hue and cry over that leniency on my part.  I even received a
petition, signed by almost every Mistress on the dungeon's staff,
requesting that I rescind that concession, and instead, hold a lottery
of some type with you as the prize.  That way, all my ladies could have
had a chance to 'help you' through this experience.  Why, two of my
ladies went so far as to offer to bribe me for the opportunity to be
the one working you today!  I must say, it quite tore my heart out to
disappoint them, particularly poor Deirdre," Solange said in a light,
teasing tone.

"DEEDEE??!?  Maitresse, she's not going to..."

Solange became quiet, and there was none of the tease about her any
longer.  "I would not violate your trust that way, Mr. Edwards, nor
ignore the limit we negotiated regarding you being attended by Deirdre.
You should know better than that by now."

Ty's face reddened under the heavy foundation coat Solange had applied
to him.  "I'm sorry, Solange.  You're right, I should have known
better.  I do know better.  It's just this whole production you've laid
on is messing me up."

"Accepted," she purred, putting down the brush.  She walked over toward
the tall armoire.  "It's almost time for the second act of my little
extravaganza," she paused at the door and looked back at the face
reflected to her in the dressing mirror.  "Just remember your role.
You are a cross-dressed male, much as you were in our first scene.
You, Tyrone Edwards the actor, are not portraying a woman in this
drama.  You are portraying a male character who is pretending to be a
woman.  Additionally, every other character in this drama knows up
front that your character is pretending and will react to him as such. 
This is the role most female clients will expect from you when they pay
for such services as you are about to demonstrate that you can provide
them."

"Yes, Maitresse," the cross-dressed male replied in a squeaky, patently
overdone falsetto.  

"Very good, then let's put the finishing touches on your outfit, shall
we?" La Maitresse asked, as she returned to him, a length of white lace
streaming from her fingers.

~-~

Solange hummed Mendelssohn the entire walk up to the specially prepared
play room.  "Have fun, dear," she whispered before planting an
affectionate, almost motherly kiss on Ty's powdered cheek.  "I truly do
want this to be fun - for both of you." Then she slipped out and closed
the door, leaving him alone.

He wondered what time it was, but he didn't have a watch.  Brides, he
mused, even cross-dressers rigged out as brides didn't wear watches.
Moving carefully so he wouldn't trip himself by catching the white
gown's long train beneath one or both of the high heels, he moved over
to the floor length mirror on the other side of the huge bed.

It had taken Solange four attempts, working the back laces up and down
the corset, to tighten the white satin foundation sufficiently that the
gown actually fit him.  Ty had never before been laced quite so
tightly, and had even needed to sit down once toward the end of the
last pass due to shortness of breath.  Solange had managed to squeeze
so much off his waist that he appeared to be wearing the hip and fanny
pads  even though he wasn't.  Those had not been a part of his costume
for they would have, according to Solange, "... gotten in the way of
'thing'."

Ty just bet they would.  

Solange had also had a great time telling Ty in entirely too much
detail what distinguished the design of this particular gown from any
other very tight, long-skirted, white dress.  A bride, she had assured
him, would be expected to  know and be very interested in such details.

Looking into the mirror, he could see that the bloody thing was
strapless - obviously.  What else was there?  Oh yeah, a cinched,
pleated bodice with a drop waistline.  Well, he wasn't all that certain
about 'dropped' anything, but Solange had sure cinched him, and yes, he
could see the pleats in the bodice (that was the part that went around
his chest, right?), too.  Looking over his shoulder at his right hip,
he could see that rosette gee-gaw, not to mention the VERY full skirt,
but he didn't know and couldn't really care less what made the train
'church-length'...or was that 'cathedral length?' Lord only knew 'cause
he sure as heck didn't.  And ... and what the hell was Tulle,
anyway???!

It was at that point, he noticed there something strange about his
face.  Moving closer, he tried to figure out what it was that was
bothering him.  Certainly the make up had been applied expertly -  by
Solange herself who was nothing if not expert -but there was something
wrong about it, something almost, well, garish...

Ty's eyes snapped wide.  "That's IT!" he yelped as he took in the
totality of what Solange had done to his face.  The colors were all
wrong for his skin tones and blond hair, and Solange would never make
such a basic error.  Which meant, of course, that she'd done it
intentionally.  Her (his?) face was much too well defined.  The various
cosmetics had not been blended at all and were much too thickly
applied.  He looked like a very sexy clown in a wedding dress!  All he
needed was white face-paint!

What had been Solange's intent, for there could be no question that
this... this caricature of femininity was completely intentional on her
part?

Ty thought hard about that question as he continued to study Solange's
artistry in the mirror.  The only time he'd looked anything like this
garishly overdone was when he'd done his own face for the French Maid
scene with Juana and Maitresse Solange.  And then he'd been?  Oh yeah,
in the role of a boy pretending to be a girl... just like Solange had
told him to be now.  Before, in the prep room, he'd been too
overwhelmed by the whole "Mother of the Bride" pre-wedding experience
Solange had orchestrated to take in what she'd done to his face.  Crap,
but when was the last time he'd had a bubble bath, let alone one
lasting a whole hour?  No wonder he was so off balance.

Which of course, was precisely her Dommely intent.

Okay, so now he had noticed.  Stepping back from the mirror, Ty again
started, this time in earnest, to become his character.



Acting Dominant
Interlude: Romeo's Juliette... or Vice Versa?


"So-LANGE, I don't feel so very good! I think I'm going to hurl right
here, right now!!"

La Maitresse smiled up at her pacing, half dressed colleague.  "It's
the bride who's supposed to have nervous-tummy butterflies, dear, not
the groom," she teased.  "You're supposed to be snorting and pawing
about like a bull in terminal rut.  Particularly since you don't have
to worry about performance anxiety or ... any, how shall I put this
delicately?  Ah, I know, any dysfunction erectally."

Juana spun about and glared down at the seated and composed older
woman.  "Screw THAT!  This is just SO wrong.  I shouldn't even be
considering this.  Ty's my FRIEND, dammit!  I could so mess that up
with this!  WHAT WAS I THINKING!?!?"

"Oh, I suspect it had something to do with jumping his bones, dear, so
I expect you to screw him instead of whatever 'that' is," Solange
offered helpfully.

"SOLANGE!!" The black Amazon Mistress stopped pacing and began shedding
the outfit she had been donning mere moments ago.  "I don't think I can
DO this!"

"All right," Solange agreed easily, hope flaring inside her.  "We'll
postpone this ... get another Mistress in here to do the scene.
Deirdre's out - Ty's leery of her, and besides, I agreed to a 'no-
scene-with DeeDee' limit for him after their last get-together.  Isolde
could do it, or... or, I know, Bettina!  I usually have my newbies
start with her, anyway, because they often need to be broken in gently;
something at which she is very good.  Hmmmm."

The older woman saw hope warring with resistance in her young friend's
eyes.  "It is a solution, dear," she said, her voice now very gentle
and completely devoid of any teasing.  "But it is not the correct one. 
You know that you should be the one to do this.  He asked for you and
after you agreed, I promised him it would be you."

The lovely brown eyes filled at that, "But, Solange, what if I hurt
him?  Or worse, what if he cracks on me in there  BLAMES me, when push
comes to shove?  I could lose him.  He's my best friend and I could
lose him!"

"Lovers should always first be friends, dear," the older woman said
softly as she gathered the now sobbing girl into her arms.  "And lovers
are what you're going to become, if you strip away all the glitz, props
and games - you're going to be lovers.  Certainly not in the normal way
of such things, but in a way that works here for women like you and me.
Besides, who wants to be merely normal, anyway?"

"But what if ... if he doesn't want me?" the taller girl said, her
tears still thickening her voice.

"He already does, or he wouldn't have asked for you.  You're gorgeous,
but you're not the prettiest or the sexiest Domme in my stable.  He
asked for you because you're his friend, Juana.  He knows what this is
about, and you're the one he asked me for.  He likes you, too, but more
than that, he trusts you.  And yes, he wants you, too.  He has ever
since he 'neebled' your boob, if not well before that!"

"Ya think?" 

"I know.  Now, go fix your face and get dressed.  Your bride is
waiting!"  Solange gave her friend a bracing swat on her butt, urging
her to get moving.

ShaJuana slowly moved back to her discarded shirt and shrugged back
into it.  "Ummm, how does he look?  In the bride's dress, I mean," she
asked as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.  

"Here," Solange replied, pulling a slip of paper from her pocket.  "I
made him pose for bridal photos as part of the morning's
entertainments." 

There was a noticeable trembling in the fingers that accepted the
computer generated four by six inch glossy.  The picture showed a
somewhat voluptuous blonde in a gorgeous white gown - bare shouldered,
tight bodice flowing into a wide, floor-length skirt.  Her makeup was
really overdone, but that was not a surprise given the scene Solange
had laid on for Ty and Juana.

"Oh my god," the tall Mistress breathed, staring even harder at the
photo as if she were trying to pick out every tiny detail.  "Mine!" and
it was a growl of feminine possessiveness that made Solange almost
sorry she'd shown it to the girl.

Juana tucked the picture into the breast pocket of the ruffled shirt,
and then reached for the jacket, leaving her shirt collar undone and
discarding the bow-tie.  "The, ah, props in the usual place?" she
asked.

Nodding, Solange took the tailed coat herself and held it out to help
Juana slip it on.  "In the top drawer of the main dresser.  Your
favorite style, too."

"How big?" Juana asked, shooting the shirt's cuffs as she turned around
to face Solange.

They both knew what she wanted to know.  Solange only shrugged.  "Big
enough," was her non-committal reply.  "He has to know, dear, exactly
what he'll be getting into if we really bring him into our menu of
offerings in that capacity.  Or more importantly, what will be getting
into him.  The clients will expect to be allowed more than baby-toys
when they play with him."

"But we usually break the newbies slow - get them used to having
something in their asses before we go to the full strap-on butt-fuck!
You know - enemas, gradual stretching - that kind of thing first."

"Well, if he has any sense - and we know that he does - he'll have done
as I directed last night and used the enema kit I gave him.  That
nozzle is about the size of a number 2 plug  not to mention he's
walking around right now with a number three I just put in him.
ShaJuana, CHILL, okay?  You've handled virgins before.  You'll do just
fine."

"Yeah, but will Ty?"

Solange gave an unladylike snort.  "I expect you'll BOTH do fine.
Ready?"

Juana took a deep breath, and then another.  "Guess so.  Let's do this
thing, then."

Solange took her friend's arm and gave her a little shake.  "Let's go
do this thing WELL, dear," she said firmly.  "And if that boy doesn't
faint from pure pleasure at some point in the next couple of hours?
Well, I'll be very disappointed because you are that damned good!"

Juana started for a moment, and then looked down into Solange's clear,
grey eyes.  "Thanks," she said, and then headed for the stairs that
would take her up to the boudoir playroom where her bride awaited.

~-~

Solange peaked around the stairwell's corner and was relieved to find
the corridor empty.  There would be no witnesses who might question her
purposes as she slipped into the playroom floor's electronic
surveillance office.  

Experienced fingers flipped a number of switches, powering up the
covert video and audio systems that she'd installed to ensure that all
BDSM play in HER place was conducted safely and with the full consent
of all players involved.  Seating herself at the main control console,
Solange powered up the bank of monitors on the wall immediately
opposite the front of the console.  Moments later, the surveillance
systems were configured so that each of the four cameras hidden in the
boudoir playroom was feeding its own monitor.  

"Damn!" she snarled as she took in the main camera display.  ShaJuana
and her  bride' were clearly displayed on the forty-two inch wide-
screen, staring at each other uncertainly from opposite sides of the
ornately decorated room with the huge marital bed between them.  It was
like some kinky version of a Rock Hudson/Doris Day romantic comedy
movie.  "DAMN!" she repeated.

She had not wanted this scene.  She did not want this scene.  WHY had
she ever opened her fool mouth??  The instant  the VERY instant - she'd
seen the look on Ty's face after she'd told him what his next training
experience would entail, she'd realized this was a disaster waiting to
happen.  And worse?  Just about everything she'd done since to try to
prevent the scene from going forward had done nothing positive and more
often than not, had made things worse! 

It just proved that every well intentioned act was fraught with
unintended consequences.  Solange had intended for Ty to back out the
instant he'd understood what would be required of him in this scene.
She'd been so certain he'd drop the idea, she'd magnanimously offered
him his choice from among her resident Dommes as Mistress in charge of
the session when she'd explained what he should expect during the
scene.  Just so he'd see how 'fair' she was being about the whole deal.

Then, having dropped that in his lap, she'd waited expectantly for the
safeword she knew HAD to be the next sound out of his mouth.  

Only, instead of yelping out a choked Shakespeare', Ty had simply said
"When?"

And then, things had only got worse! Ty had requested ShaJuana for his
'groom.'  Even in her worst-case scenario imaginings, Solange had never
dreamed he'd select his best friend to pluck his cherry.  Now she had a
Mistress who was on the verge of a panic attack, working with a sub who
had absolutely no idea of what might be in store for him.  Worse, that
panicky Mistress was working with a sub who was predisposed NOT to use
his safeword.  For reasons she could not even begin to guess, Solange
knew that Ty was prepared to accept any pain or humiliation she'd allow
in her house because the additional earning power he might gain from it
was so important to him.  

If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, she didn't want to know what
could make it any worse.  Now, she had to be here, invading the privacy
of what should be a special, first time intimacy, because she had to be
ready to do... what??!?

She only wished she knew ...

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 11: What's My Motivation?
By Tigger c2008


The turning of the door handle behind him had Ty nearly jumping out of
his shoes.  Solange had told him were 'mules;' all Ty knew was that
they lacked any heel-backs to keep them securely on his feet, and were
high enough to feel dangerous.  He somehow managed to keep his balance
as he turned to watch the slowly opening door across the ornately made
bed.

His first clear look at ShaJuana was stunning.  She'd slicked her
usually curly hair back so tightly to her head that it resembled a male
comb-back style, with the bulk of her wild mane tied back behind her.
She wore a very becoming burgundy tuxedo jacket and slacks over a
ruffled pink shirt.  The outfit was patterned after the classic groom
attire, but had clearly been tailored to emphasize that the wearer was
utterly female - gorgeous, stacked and damned proud of herself.  As did
her cosmetics - for despite her role as the groom in this little
psychodrama, Juana's face was powerfully and unabashedly feminine.

Ty felt his groin tighten as he watched her enter the room and quietly
close the door behind her.  Damn, he thought, if only our roles in this
play were reversed ... 

But they weren't, and the two of them were here for a purpose -one that
Ty had personally requested.  Okay, so he hadn't fully considered all
the ramifications and consequences, but dammit, he needed the money if
he was going to be able to pay that damned tuition without mortgaging
his future and his soul.

Why wasn't she making the first move, he wondered, as ShaJuana just
stood there, in front of the door staring at him.  Wasn't she supposed
to be the Domme in this scene?!?  Shouldn't she be, well, taking charge
and giving orders?

~-~

Solange swallowed against the gorge rising in her throat.  If something
didn't happen quickly, she'd... she'd...

Hell, she didn't know what she would or could do.  There didn't seem to
be anything she could do that wouldn't mess things up worse than she
already had done.  

DAMMIT, she could lose BOTH of them and it would be her fault.

Maybe she could yell fire and get them to evacuate...

~-~

Maybe, Ty thought, someone would set a fire and they could just
evacuate...

What was he was supposed to do now, dammit?  Help her?  Didn't Solange
say that some of the women he'd have to work with as the duty male
slave wouldn't really know what to do or how to do it?  Only that they
wanted to do it to some guy?  Well, hell, he grumbled inwardly,
couldn't they have at least taught HIM how to do it first?  

The only thing he'd ever had ... well, back there was the enema nozzle
he'd used last night because Solange had told him that a good cleansing
would make today's experience easier.  Oh, and not to forget that
damned butt plug Solange had inserted this morning that reminded him of
its presence with every step he took.  

What the hell was he supposed to do?  Toss up his skirts, shake his
booty at Juana and coo over his shoulder, ", , , lookin' for a good
time, sailor?"  Yeah, that would work.

NOT!  

It simply wasn't fair to expect a total virgin to do all the work his
very first time! He sure hoped Juana agreed with his assessment of
'fairness' because, truth to tell, he was just a little bit terrified
right now and WAITING for ShaJuana to DO something wasn't making his
life any easier!

Hell, he'd ASKED for ShaJuana because he was pretty sure she knew what
she was about in this kind of deal as much because he trusted and liked
her.  He expected that she'd know enough to make ... IT easy ... well,
easier for him.

Several more tension-laden seconds passed, and still the ebony goddess
did not make a move to initiate anything.  Okay, he thought, she's just
going to keep waiting so I am forced to conclude that this must be part
of Solange's test, too.  Damn her, anyway!  

So what to do next?  A wry grin crossed Ty's ruby-red lips as a thought
came to mind.  Well, he told himself, you can't make love fully
clothed, so...

Kicking off the uncomfortable and potentially dangerous shoes, Ty
glided around the bed toward ShaJuana on white-stockinged feet.
"Hello, darling," he piped in the abysmal falsetto that Solange had
approved, "I've been waiting for you to help me with my gown.  I can't
reach all those teensie little buttons."  He turned his back to Juana,
and pulled the veil and blond tresses out of the way.  "Undo me,
please?"

~-~

Solange almost began to breathe again.  Ty wasn't fully in character,
per se, which was a concern, but not nearly as big a concern as
ShaJuana not giving him a foil from whom to take his cues.  Well, he
had taken the initiative to get things started, which at least was
something positive.  Perhaps now the ninny would remember HER role in
this scene and get on with it.

But she didn't.  

Solange shifted cameras and zoomed in on ShaJuana's face - and felt her
heart nearly stop.  The woman was terrified - worse than she'd been in
the prep room.

And now, she was alone with that terror.

This was Solange's worst nightmare - a Mistress completely out of
control of a emotion-charged scene - only it was worse than that.
ShaJuana was deeply involved with this submissive on both personal and
emotional levels, and this scene was heading in a direction that might
actually damage that budding relationship.

In truth, Solange admitted to herself, Juana had NEVER been in control
of this scene, and she should have seen that in the prep room.  Instead
of prodding the girl to get on with a scene she clearly had deep
reservations about, Solange should have used those reservations as
reasons the girl would have accepted to put a stop to the scene before
it really started.  She could have used any reason for Ty so long as
Juana would accept ending it.  "Sorry, dear, but Juana is sick - some
type of stomach virus or such - and can't do the session today.  And
no, there are no other Mistresses here with the time or preparation to
do this properly.  I'm so sorry, after all the time you've spent
getting ready, but we'll just have to postpone it for now."

Postpone it FOREVER if Solange had her way, and she'd have had the
benefit of more time to do just that!

What had she been thinking when she'd agreed to ShaJuana for this
scene?

~-~

He didn't feel any fingers tugging at those tiny buttons.  Cautiously,
Ty looked back over his shoulder and was stunned to see glistening
tear-tracks streaming down Juana's cheeks.  "Juana?" he asked, reaching
out to take her hands in his, and was surprised at how cold and stiff
her fingers felt.  Moving quickly, he led her over to the opulent bed
and urging her to sit.  "Are you all right?"

"I... I can't... do..." she rasped, clearly fighting to gain control of
her emotions.  "Can't... do this."

Ty felt like he'd been punched in the gut.  He'd asked for ShaJuana
because, well, she was ShaJuana.  Solange had said this Mistress-ing
stuff was part of his friend's basic personality and identity, and he'd
hoped she would see this as a sort of gift knowing that it was not part
of his.  Or at least, it had not been up until now.  

Only she wasn't going to take the gift.

"You don't want me?" he asked, before the words had even formed fully
in his mind.

That got a reaction.  Juana's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped in
shock.  "Not WANT YOU?  What, are you nuts!?!"

Ty had no idea what to make of that.  Maybe she just didn't want the
responsibility of being his first, given the heretofore 'just-friends'
nature of their relationship.  He should have asked her first so she
could have said no, but he'd told Solange first.  Maybe that was it.
He'd wanted her because they were best friends and he trusted her.  It
might be that she didn't want to mess that up and was worried that
doing this with...TO him might?  "Ummm, you want me to ask Solange to
get another Domme to, uh, break me in, first?"

Suddenly, six-plus feet of enraged Amazon was off the bed, towering
over him, staring down at him, her nostrils flaring, her eyes flashing
fire.  "ARE YOU NUTS?" she repeated herself, nearly deafening him.
"Any other bitch comes near you like that and I will have her ass!"

Thoroughly confused now, Ty muttered, "I thought we were supposed to be
talking about you having my ass." and found himself eye-to-eye with
ShaJuana, his feet dangling inches above the carpeted floor.

Heat flashed back and forth between the two pairs of eyes, and it was
the brown pair that broke away.  Juana slowly lowered her friend to the
floor, and tried to gather herself.  "You're right," she said softly,
and then went to the armoire.

Ty watched as she withdrew a mass of leather straps and a iridescent
purple dildo.  It was, with the exception of the color, fairly
lifelike.  It was also, he thought as his bottom clenched spasmodically
about Solange's plug, much larger than either device he'd used last
night or this morning in preparation for this day's experience.  

MUCH larger!

His attention was diverted from the purple monster by Juana jerking
open the armoire's  other drawers, and furiously searching each one in
turn.  He thought he heard her mumble something like, "Where's the
other one?" 

What other one?  Other what?  What was Juana talking about, he wondered
to himself.

~-~

"It's not there because someone - ME - stupidly decided not to put it
there," Solange growled to herself.  Even as she watched the two young
people, her finger tightened ever so slightly on the switch that would
signal all off duty staff that a scene had gone bad and assistance was
required immediately.  ShaJuana had made the move to the armoire for
the dildo and its harness, but the lack of the smaller toy she'd
expected to find and then to slip into the harness once Ty's back was
turned had undone all the good Ty's 'topping from the bottom'
intervention had accomplished.  Solange was now absolutely certain that
it was simply a case of too much, too quickly for both of them.  

What would she do, Solange wondered?  How would she proceed?  In
Solange's opinion, there were three possible courses of action, two of
which held some hope of salvaging this mess.

ShaJuana could simply end the scene with the intent to reconvene later,
and take personal charge of the preparations so that everything would
be to her satisfaction.

She could simply pick up the phone and have someone bring her the dildo
or dildos she wanted to use in this session.  Under other
circumstances, that was precisely what Juana would do.  She was, after
all, the dungeon's most experienced 'cherry-picker' as that skill was a
natural adjunct to the forced-femme play for which the black goddess
was so well known.

Or she could do exactly what she was doing - nothing, which in point of
fact was less than nothing because doing nothing was making things
worse for both players.  

Solange was almost certain that she would have to step in and end this
debacle before any real damage could occur.

Ty was clearly unnerved by the toy in Juana's hands, but... but he
wasn't repulsed by it! And by god, Solange thought, he should have
been!  It was too damned large NOT to unnerve - hell, frighten - a
novice.  Why wasn't he having knicker-fits at the very thought of
having to accommodate that monster?  Her finger still on the panic-
button on her desk, Solange leaned closer to the monitor, trying to
figure out what it was that she sensed in there.

Then, she saw it! No, Ty wasn't repulsed by the toy ShaJuana held in
her hands because his attention was no longer on that oversized fake
cock.  

He was focused on ShaJuana!

~-~

ShaJuana's reaction to the things she'd removed from that drawer was
setting off alarm bells in Ty's head.  She'd said she wanted him! And
there was no doubt in his mind she'd meant that.  She'd also said that
she kick the ass of any other Mistress who might be asked to give him
this test - again, he had no doubt that she meant that.

So why were they both still dressed?  Why was she staring at that dildo
and harness like she'd just uncovered a weapon of mass, or was that
ass, destruction?

WHY wasn't SOMETHING happening?!?

Every empathic instinct he possessed was on full alert; screaming to
him that this was just wrong.  It sure as hell was NOT fun, and hadn't
Solange assured him that it was supposed to be fun?  Juana did not look
like she was going to have fun, and if she wasn't having fun, Ty didn't
see any way - AT ALL - that he was going to have fun, either.

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do.  Friendship counted more than
money any day.

"ShaJuana?" he called, but she didn't react to his voice.  Instead, she
just kept staring at the harness.  Grimly, Ty strode over to his tall
friend, snatched the toys from her hands and hurled them across the
boudoir into the furthest corner of the room.  "ShaJuana!" he barked
louder.  This time, she looked down at him, but there was still
befuddled confusion in her chocolate brown eyes.  "Shakespeare."

~-~

Solange nearly cheered.  "Thank you, God," she breathed as she reached
for her house phone.  She needed to get those two out of there and out
of those outfits as quickly as possible! Then she'd do what she could
to somehow try to spin this to both their benefits.

"Thank you, God," she repeated.

~-~

"Wha ...?  What did you say?" ShaJuana finally got out, sounding like
she was just waking up.

"Shakespeare.  Red Light!  Stop Code.  Whatever," Ty said, taking
Juana's hands back into his own.  "I'm not sure what is wrong here, but
we can't do this.  For whatever reason, you're not ready, and I just
realized, neither am I.  I thought I was, but I'm not."

The tall woman's shoulder began to shake.  "I'm sorry, Ty," she cried. 
"Solange said you wanted the extra money for something, but I just
couldn't get my head around this.  I wanted to - hell, I want YOU...
but... but I just couldn't... not now... here... I mean..."

Ty put a finger to Juana's full lips, "Shhhh," he said soothingly as he
gently led her to the bed.  "Lie down," he ordered, and then laid down
beside her, holding her as she cried.  "It's okay.  I don't think I
could have, either, and I'm glad it was you here to see me wimp out
instead of DeeDee or Isolde."

"Don't try to kid a kidder, boy," Juana grumbled, her face cuddled into
Ty's bared shoulder.  "You saw that I was a mess and didn't trust me to
be in charge of breaking you in."

Ty pulled back from her, and scooted down to look her directly in the
eye.  "Now, that is just SO wrong, and I won't have you saying or
thinking that.  I trust you implicitly, or I wouldn't have requested
you.  Now that I think about it, and now that we've made this attempt,
I will tell you this."

He waited for her to quirk her brows in query.  "IF I do this -and
that's a pretty big 'if' given how I'm feeling right now -you, my dear
ShaJuana, are the only person I'm going to accept as my first lover
that way.  You know why?"

"Why?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"Because we HAVE already come this far together, and I think we need to
see it through together, but more than that?  I don't want to be
responsible for the surely fearsome ass-kicking you'd give any other
poor hapless Domme who happened to be the one sent in to do me in your
place."

That earned him a watery giggle and a rib-cracking hug from his friend.
Then they simply laid there on the satin comforter for a long time,
locked in each other's arms, saying nothing and needing to say nothing.

A knock on the door roused them.  Ty called out, "Enter."

The door opened to admit Solange.  "Well?" she asked softly, as if she
had no idea what had just transpired between the two of them.

"I safeworded," Ty replied as he rose from the bed.  "We weren't
ready."

"We?" Solange asked, somehow managing to keep her voice neutral.

"We," Juana answered firmly.  "We need to talk about this some more,
the three of us."

Inwardly relieved, Solange frowned fiercely at the two young people.
"The three of us?  I thought this was Ty's decision and my approval."

"I'm in on the decision now, and the approval, too," Juana replied.
"Like I said, we need to talk."

"Very well.  Go get changed, the pair of you.  Come to my office and
we'll have some tea.  I suspect that Ty is rather hungry just now," a
smiling Maitresse said before slipping out of the room.

"Ummm, Juana?" Ty said, pulling on his friend's coat sleeve.

"Yeah, Ty-RONE?" she answered, some of her normal sass back.

"I, ah, still need help with the bloody buttons on this damned gown.
There have to be a hundred of them and I'm just not that flexible.  And
then, there's this cursed corset!"

"Gee, ya mean I get to strip the bride anyways?"  

Juana wasn't quite quick enough to dodge the satin-covered pillow Ty
sent flying at her in retaliation.



Acting Dominant
Interlude: More Rehearsal Needed


Later that day, after Ty and ShaJuana had both left for home, Solange
unwound in her private office with a large snifter of brandy.  All
things considered, these new plans suited her better than she had any
right to hope for, given the potential disaster she'd nearly had on her
hands.

Essentially, Juana was going to instruct Ty privately in the fine art
of woman-on-top anal play, and then inform Solange when, in her
opinion, Ty was ready to work independently with female clients.  She'd
given them a toy-box with everything she thought they might need during
their off-site 'training,' and then sent the on their way.  

Training, Solange giggled like a school girl at the word.  Sure, they'd
be training.  In any case, they'd be going slower, but as Juana had
pointed out during their little after-scene critique over tea and
scones, that was the way these things were SUPPOSED to be done.  That
way, the sub got used to the idea that such intimacies could and should
be both natural and pleasurable for both participants.  

For her part, Solange had agreed to increase Ty's salary to nearly what
he would have made as her on-staff TV switch while he underwent this
'intensive' training with Juana.  It wasn't as if he wasn't worth every
penny she'd pay him just for all the other work he'd been doing around
the place.  

So, both would still be working for her in the dungeon! She had not, as
she'd feared she might, lost two valuable employees.  Better still, the
increased intimacy this 'training' would foster between them suited
Solange's other purposes very well indeed.

Truthfully, Ty's surprisingly intuitive response to the day's crisis
was, in large part, why she'd been willing to increase his pay.  He'd
sensed something was wrong, and had attempted to fix it  while striving
to stay within the scene's proposed dynamic.  Part of that, she
thought, was that acting-honed sensitivity he had to the emotions of
others around him.  Another part was his sense of direction and
instinct for improvisation.  Finally, and most importantly, once he'd
seen that the scene was simply not going to work, he'd taken the
responsibility to end it with his safeword.  

And then, to Solange's complete amazement, he'd stepped in and provided
needed support and caring to the emotionally fragile top.  Aftercare
was the term most lifestyle players used to describe the reassurance a
dominant needed after a particularly demanding and emotional experience
- assurance that the other player was fine, still trusted the dominant
and would do it again with him/her.  In this case, Juana knew she'd
messed up and was very upset, but Ty had known precisely what she'd
needed, and had given it to her without stinting.

Remarkable.

Solange toasted herself and took a sip of the amber liqueur.  Yes,
these new arrangements would suit her purposes just fine.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 12: Rescripting and Dress Rehearsal
By Tigger c2008


They sat together, just two friends sharing a booth in a Greenwich
Village coffee-shop.  Normally frequented by the members of the
theatrical profession, the shop was mostly empty just then.  It was
early evening, and the usual crowd were at work, preparing to raise
curtain at the various theaters nearby.  Neither friend said much, but
instead cast furtive, fleeting glances at a large leather briefcase
that held a prominent place on the table between them.

Finally, they both looked at once, caught each other, and looked away
sheepishly.

Ty reached out a hand to cover ShaJuana's.  "It's not going to go
away," he said with a wry grin, "And I have to admit, I'm curious to
know just what Solange thinks is 'everything we might need'.  That's
why I can't help looking at it, anyway."

"You ain't got x-ray vision to see inside it, Ty, but I get your
point," Juana replied, a half smile on her own full lips.  "I keep
looking 'cause I pretty much know what she thinks is needed.  I just
don't know how or when or... or, hell..."

Ty reached up to tip back her face so they were looking into each
other's eyes.  "Hey, Juana.  It's okay.  We'll get through this.  Look,
why don't we just go DO it and have done with it."

"Why, you romantic fool, you!" Juana snorted, but Ty could tell she was
using the sarcasm to mask her uncertainties.  The one great positive
that he had garnered this day was learning, for certain, that Juana
wanted him - at least as a D/s playmate, anyway.  Likely more than just
that, too, if her reaction to the possibility of another Domme training
him was any indication.

Ty really hoped that it was.  "Juana.  I'm as ready as I'm going to be.
I mean, hey, I'm still stretched, right?  Besides, the longer we wait,
the bigger this thing is going to seem to both of us.  If 'tis to be
done, 'tis better done quickly, to quote the Bard.  Speaking of
quotes..."  A wicked grin lit his face, and he finger-beckoned her to
lean over the table towards him.  A cautious look on her face, she
finally complied.  Ty leaned over till his lips were near her ear, and
putting a hand over them, he whispered, "Hey, you big studdette, take
me to bed or..."

He never got to finish because Juana fell back in her seat laughing
like a loon.  "Studdette?" she managed to croak out between laughs,
causing Ty to whirl about looking anxiously for any one close enough to
eavesdrop.  "Cripes, you knucklehead, okay, you got it.  Let's go for
it, 'cause I'd purely hate to lose you forever.  My place okay with
you?"

"Why, you romantic fool, you," he parroted her earlier complaint, happy
that the shop was mostly deserted at that particular moment.  Still,
he'd made Juana laugh away some of her tension, and that was a good
thing.

~-~

"Y'know," Ty said as he hefted one of the sturdy metal rings that had
been welded on to each side of both the iron head and foot 'boards' of
Juana's king-size bed.  "I can't tell you how many times I've been in
your apartment, but this is the first time I've ever been in your
bedroom."

ShaJuana looked up from her inspection of the contents of Solange's
'toy box' and grinned.  "Well, if you'd seen those, you'd have learned
some things about me that I wasn't ready to tell you."

"Well!  I must say that I'm shocked, just shocked, you kinky thing,
you." 

ShaJuana laughed freely.  "Just the reaction I hoped for tonight, Ty.
Now you know the real me!"

"I guess I must, Tall-Booty.  Well, given what Solange told us to do, I
guess I'm supposed to experience these things first hand tonight?"

He saw her go very still, but instantly realized it wasn't the fearful
uncertainty she'd evidenced in the boudoir earlier that day.  "I know
what she said, Ty," Juana began slowly, thoughtfully, "But I'm not so
sure that having you tied up right and tight is the best way for us to
do this, or the way I want to play this."  Quickly she outlined her
alternative idea to which Ty readily agreed.  

"I guess I need to be naked now, huh?" Ty asked, his face reddening in
spite of everything he'd said about being ready.

To his surprise, ShaJuana suddenly became diffident, almost shy.  Her
coffee-colored cheeks darkened with her own blush, and she actually
wrung her hands together.  "Umm, Ty?  Solange... well, that is, she
included some of the...  OH HELL!" Whereupon, she stomped over to the
case and withdrew two handfuls of white silk, satin and lace.  "Would
you mind wearing these while we play?" Then she hesitated and added,
"Please."

Ty took the proffered material and realized that it was the lingerie -
minus the corset - that Solange had used to dress him earlier that very
day.  Everything else - the under-corset silk camisole, the suspender
belt and stockings, even the thong panties - were there.  Ty certainly
had no problem wearing them, particularly if doing so made this easier
on Juana.  Then, that little devil on his shoulder whispered in his ear
again.

"Sure, Juana," he said easily, and saw her face light up, "on one
little condition."

Her face fell, just as he knew it would.  Holding back the grin he felt
pulling at his face, he waited for her to ask.  "What," she demanded
with obvious unease, "condition, and HOW little, boy?"

"Oh, nothing much, gorgeous.  Just, if I dress like that?  YOU dress
the same.  Fair's fair, after all."

The relief in her smile was a joy to him.  It was going to be okay.
"Who ever told you that bein' fair has anything to do with a Mistress
and her subbie, boy?"

He shrugged elegantly.  "I can be naked." Her face fell again, so he
began to wheedle.  "Ah, c'mon, Juana.  GUY here," he said, pointing at
himself.  "I'm more likely to get excited looking at your lovely body
all decked out in lingerie than lying here seeing you in jeans and a t-
shirt ... which is really worth looking at," he added quickly, "but I
see that almost every day."

"Good save, Ty-RONE, but who said you were going to get to look at
anything?" she replied, as she lifted an eyeless bondage hood from the
briefcase.

"Now you're just being cruel."

"Part of the job description, cutie!" she retorted, and pointing at
herself, "DOMME here!"

"Okay, okay! Look, you wear lingerie to match mine, promise me no
impediments to my visual enjoyment of you gorgeous self, and I will
wear the lingerie."

ShaJuana frowned fiercely at him.  "I'm the Domme," she declared
arrogantly.  "I could just order you to wear them."

Grinning, Ty comically minced over to her, went up on tip-toe and air-
kissed both ShaJuana's cheeks.  "But you won't."

"Fool," she said, half laughing as she walked over to her bureau.
"Okay, I won't.  This time."  Ty watched avidly as she rummaged through
a pair of drawers.  "I don't have anything sexy in white..  "

"You should - god, but you should," Ty breathed, "spectacular."

She looked up from her inspection.  "You just keep dreaming, boy."
Suddenly, her hands stopped moving, and her head snapped back to look
intently into that particular drawer.  From her bemused expression, it
appeared to Ty that she had found something she had not expected, and
didn't quite know what to do with whatever that something was.  

For several very long moments, she stood there in front of her dresser,
staring down at whatever she held in her hands.  Then she nodded as if
she were agreeing with some decision and looked back at Ty, her eyes
narrow and very intense.  "Look here, Ty-RONE, what I'm going to show
you are my absolute favorite undies, okay?  And let me warn you - if
you even LOOK like you're laughing?  I'll LOCK that damned hood on you.
Got that??"

"Got it.  No laughing.  Promise!"

Very slowly, Juana held up three matching pieces to the light so Ty
could see them clearly.  The demi-bra, garter belt and thong she held
up to him were pink - not just mere pink, but hot, outrageous, glowing
PINK!  And all Ty could think when he saw them, saw HER in his mind's
eye wearing them was, "Oh... My ... God.  Forget white, please.  Those
have GOT to be... incredible on you."

She'd prepared herself for the laugh - had expected the laugh.  A tall,
oversized female like herself?  Indulging herself in such a girly,
girlish color, as if she was some cute petite little bubble blonde?
Hiding her sinfully luscious lingerie in the far back of her panty
drawer and allowing herself to enjoy them only when she was alone in
her own bedroom?  She knew that was laughable.  

Only Ty hadn't laughed.  In fact, he'd just stared at her, looking
almost dazed by the mere thought of her dressed in her special, very
personal girl suit.  Incredible - he'd SAID she'd look incredible.

She swallowed hard, knowing that sharing this with him would be harder
- MUCH harder - than simply strutting about stark naked.  

Incredible.  He HAD said 'incredible,' hadn't he?  

"Ummm," she started, gathering her private treasures to her breast and
looking over her shoulder to where he stood watching.  "Umm, you can
get changed in here.  I'll ... I'll just go slip into something more
comfortable in the bathroom."

My god, she thought as she all but ran from the room, did I really just
say what I think I just said?  How... girly.

~-~

Slipping silently back into her bedroom, she found Ty, sitting at her
vanity, making final touch ups to his face.  She felt her heart simply
melt and her insides go just a little more gooey.  He was making that
additional, unasked-for effort - just for her.  


As she had for him.  She'd brushed out her hair and done her own face
after she'd donned her lingerie.  Added smoke grey stockings and the
heels she'd had dyed to match her secret undies, completing her own
costume.  When he didn't hear her, she coughed to get his attention.

Ty spun about on the velvet stool and went completely still the instant
he saw her.  Juana knew she'd remember that look on his face for the
rest of her life.  Very slowly, he got to his feet and then just looked
at her.  It took all the will power she possessed to simply stand
there, head erect, shoulders back in presentation when every part of
her wanted to squirm away or hide from that frank and intense
examination.

"Wow," the word came out like a prayer.  "God, Juana, I... I don't have
words... I can't.  You're... my, god, you're..."  He gave up and shook
his head in defeat.  "Wow."

If anything, Juana stood even taller, pride swelling her breast and
filling her soul.  "I think, Ty-RONE," she said softly, pointing to the
bulge that was starting to disarrange the delicate gusset of the white
thong, "That says all you need to say right now."

But he shook his head.  "That's just physical reaction, and yeah, it's
real as it gets, but it's not all of it - it's a whole lot more..."

Unspeakably moved, she strode over to him and bent down to kiss him.
"C'mon, Ty-RONE," she said taking his hand in hers to lead him to her
bed.  "Let's get started and see if we can do somethin' about that
painful-looking swellin' you have goin' down there while we're at it."

"I am utterly at your service, Ma'am."

A husky laugh answered him.  "Just as it should be, little man, just as
it should be."

~-~

"I feel like I'm about to be launched into orbit on the space shuttle,"
Ty muttered as ShaJuana fiddled the strap about his waist, managing to
tighten it another two notches.

The smile she shot him was pure wickedness and all female - it sent
chills up and down his spine.  "Honey-lamb - that is JUST what I'm
fixin' to do here!"

"Seems to me I'm the one in a fix," he shot back.  Here he was, flat on
his back, but with his butt propped up in the air by this bondage
bolster thing Juana had pushed under his hips.  The appliance was wedge
shaped, making perhaps a thirty degree angle with the bed.  It was made
of black leather stretched over the type of cushiony filling used in
footstools or hassocks.  It was sturdy enough to maintain its shape,
but soft enough not to be TOO uncomfortable.  The end result of this
was that he was stuck in a position sort of like a sit-up or abdominal
crunch, but with his back still flat on the bed and his butt and hips
up in the air.  Additionally, it had velcro straps about half way up
each side of the wedge that Juana had strapped around his thighs just
above his knees.  When she pulled these tight, his knees were pulled up
and apart, causing his butt to be pulled further up off the wedge.  The
end result of this was that his ass was pointed toward the ceiling and
was easily accessible to ShaJuana's wicked intentions.

"I thought you said no restraints?"

"No, I said I didn't want to tie up your hands, and besides," she said
as she smacked his upturned butt eliciting a yelp from Ty, "this part
isn't for bondage - it's for convenience.  Since your hands will really
be free, you can undo it anytime you want," she smirked down at him,
"if you decide to wimp out."

He snorted at that idea.  "Explain this 'bound by the power of your
will' bit to me again, please?  Just so I understand."

Juana sighed, but walked around to the other side of the bed so there
was room for her to sit down.  "Basically, when I do this with a client
or play-partner, I order him to hold on to the binding straps and
restrain himself from moving, okay?  If this were a usual scene, any
time you broke contact, you'd earn you a punishment  maybe a swat or
two, or a hooding.  That's not what I want now, though,  because, well
..." she stopped, choosing her words with more care than she was
ordinarily given to doing.  "Look, Ty, you're just not the ordinary,
run of the mill guy I play these games with, okay?  First, you are not
really a D/s player - you didn't come to the dungeon needing to submit
yourself to a strong dominant woman.  You're learning to play, and I
think you like at least some of it, but that's really not where you're
at.  So this scene I'm planning may not turn out to be something you'll
enjoy.  Some guys just can't handle it.  That can be, well, really
painful for everyone involved.  If you find you can't handle this, I
want you to be able to stop me physically, if that's what it takes.
Okay?"

Ty nodded his understanding.  "It sounded like you had another reason,
too."

Taking a deep breath, Juana nodded.  "I do.  Ty, I wasn't kidding this
morning when I said I want you this way.  I really do, and the
wanting's damned intense.  So I'm doing this to give you a way to reel
me in if I get going too hot and heavy too quickly.  Letting go gives
you a sort of physical 'yellow light' code in case you need me to ease
back.  You just let go.  I'll either notice, and slow down or stop what
I'm doing for a minute.  If I don't notice, you can reach out and touch
me where ever you can reach me until I notice.  Finally, as I said, if
I don't notice even then, you can start unstrapping yourself, which I
guarantee I will notice."  She reached out to finger-stroke an unruly
lock of hair from his eyes.  "Okay with that?"

"Sounds like a plan.  Good thing I'm still supple from my high school
wrestling days, though."

"Ready to start?"

His grin was infectious.  "Yes, please," he replied in the pompous,
overdone British accent of their first play together.  "Do carry on."

"Smart-ass," she laughed, and then became stern.  "Bind yourself to my
will, little man, and prepare to go into orbit."

"Yes, Mistress."

~-~

"What does my sweetie think of my toys, now?" Juana cooed as she held
up the last of the dildos Solange had provided in the toy-box.  They
both recognized that one from their time in the dungeon's bridal suite.
Juana held the toy to her cheek and lovingly stroked it up and down
"This is Long Tom.  He's an honest eight inches long and almost six
inches around.  ALL my girlie-boys learn to LOVE Long Tom," she smiled
wickedly as she passed it before his wide eyes.  "I just KNOW you'll
love him, too, cutie."

Maybe he wasn't quite as ready as he'd thought.  Unable to stop
himself, Ty tracked the movement of that purple beast as ShaJuana
completed the dildo-display she'd prepared from the contents of the
case.  Counting the purple Long Tom, there were now seven sex-toys on
the bedside table next to Ty's head.  Arranged in the order she'd
pulled them out of the case, they were also in order of increasing
size.  They reminded Ty of a historic display of full-size ICBM models
he'd seen during a tour of an Air Force base when he'd been in high
school.  That was not a comforting comparison.

The smallest toy on the table was one of those butt-plug things -like
the one Solange had pushed on him - in him?  - that morning.  Without
any reference to judge its size, Ty guessed it was about the same as
the one he'd already endured.  At least, he hoped it was about that
size.  Otherwise, he didn't even want to THINK about having those other
toys work their way up his back door! The next was another plug - about
the same length, but thicker at the widest part.  The one following the
second plug was much longer than either of those toys, maybe six inches
in total, but narrower - no more than the thickness of his thumb at
it's widest point.  After that one, there were two of what even he
recognized as vibrators.  They were both a little shorter than the
smooth thing but a clearly bigger around.  The jet black dildo just
before Long Tom was another 'life-like' toy.  It was about the same
length and girth as the larger vibrator, and it made Long Tom was made
all the more imposing when Juana set the purple toy down next to it.

Long Tom had to be at least two inches taller and half again thicker
than the black fake dick.  The comparison made Ty's bottom clench just
from looking at them.  And Juana said he was going to LOVE that thing? 
He might love doing a Lorena Bobbitt impression on it, but not much
else!

Juana saw the dismayed look on his face, and held back the laugh.  Got
your attention now, Ty, she thought, her Domme  juices starting to
bubble.  Now you're going to find out what it takes to be MY subbie,
boy!

She made a show of snapping a latex glove onto her right hand before
picking up a plastic tube and squeezing its contents out with her left.
"You're gonna LOVE this stuff, little man," she told him as she spread
the goop about her gloved hand with her ungloved one.  "It's heat
activated so when I rub it all over your cute lil' ass, it will start
getting warm and slick.  You are gonna SHINE tonight, sweetcheeks,
trust me!"

Ty flinched and clenched when she ran one slick finger along the crack
of his buttocks.  "Now, you know that ain't gonna do you no good," she
said sweetly, repeating the movement with her next finger and then the
next.  "I got all night, and those poor ass muscles are just gonna give
out long time before my fingers will." She squeezed more lube onto the
upper most part of his elevated butt, and continued her surprisingly
gentle strokes.

Whether it was surrender to the inevitable, the promised tiring of
over-strained muscles, or his own determination to see this through, Ty
quickly gave in, allowing Juana to begin massaging the ointment fully
into his ass crack.  The almost feathery strokes and sensual warmth of
the lubricant were having another effect, too.

Ty was getting harder  so hard his penis popped out the side of his
thong - and ShaJuana noticed.  "Ooooo, well lookie here, cutie-buns.
Somebody must like getting his little bottie played with..." she sang,
as she began stroking the hot, hard length of him in her greasy left
hand in time with her right hand's ass-play.  

Ty opened his pleasure-fogged eyes to realize that the head of his
erect cock was less than a foot from his head, and Juana was aiming it
right at his face.  Oh, no, he thought, and gripped the leather straps
more tightly and tried to pull himself closer to the head of the bed
and away from the head of his increasingly aroused hardon.

"Goin' someplace, cutie?" Juana asked sweetly, her smirk knowing.

What little movement he managed did nothing to change his situation.
The seatbelt that held his hips to that bolster simply slid as his
upper body slid.  Moving up in the bed did nothing to change his head's
position relative to the head of his primed and loaded erection.  

Well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant.  He was
gonna get a face-full if Juana had anything to say about it -which she
obviously did.  Ty stole a furtive glance up at the wicked grin
lighting her face and revised his estimate.  He'd be getting a
mouthful.  Sneaky bitch.  You had to love that about her.

Ty was so caught up in trying to hold back the coming eruption that he
almost missed the quick insertion of one long finger into his butt.

Operative word is 'almost'.  His torso heaved at the invasion, like an
untrained horse trying to throw its first rider.  All that did was seat
the finger deeper.  Ty felt like an electric current was running
between his ass and every nerve ending on his penis.  Futilely, he
tried to buck into her hand stroking his erection, trying to increase
the feathery friction that was beginning to drive him mad.

Only to have her hands - both of them disappear.  Dazed, on the verge
of climax, Ty only registered that he was just short of what he needed
to finish and didn't see what Juana was up to.  An instant later, he
didn't need to see as something hard and unyielding slid into his ass
in one smooth movement.  He did shriek this time when his sphincter
stretched to accommodate the toy's widest point, and clamped down on
the narrow neck of the toy.

"God damn it, Jua...  I mean, Mistress, I was so... so close..." he
groaned as he looked up at her grinning face.  

With the grace of the dancer she was, Juana lifted her right leg so
that she straddled him, her left foot on the floor,  her right knee
resting on the bed.  Sitting her butt down on his stomach, she ran the
index finger of her still slippery left hand across his upper lip.
"That's good, Ty, that's really good." Then she bent over to kiss his
nose before smirking into his face, eye to eye.  "Good for me, but
maybe not so good for you.  I LIKE that you are ready to cum so early
into our little game.  Knowing I've got you RIGHT THERE at that edge
makes me really hot, but ya wanna know a secret?" Ty nodded, careful
not to head-butt her for her face was that close to his own.  Her eyes
danced with wicked delight as she leaned further to put her lips right
up against one of his ears.  "I'm not gonna let you cum," she
whispered, her breath hot on his skin.  She sat back up, arching her
back like a satisfied cat, and purred, "I'm gonna keep you up and keep
you up till you're beggin' for relief."

She hopped up off the bed.  "And you know what I'll say to that
beggin', sweet-cheeks?  I'll say 'no'.  You're gonna be like this,
right on the tippy edge, needin' to cum - DYIN' to cum ...  all ...
night ... long!"  She reached up and gave his only slightly less rigid
penis a teasing stroke and earned another groan from Ty.  "Won't that
be FUN?" 

"NO!" he grumbled back, and hurriedly added, "Mistress!" when the next
stroke became a warning squeeze.

"Well, if you're gonna be that way about it.  I know!  How 'bout this? 
I'll let you cum if you can sneak it by me.  That's a good deal, boy.
I punish my other sissy boys for cumming without permission, but I'll
let YOU go if you can manage to cum.  But there's just this one,
teensie little thing..."

He couldn't help himself.  He was so caught up in the drama they'd
created, he had to ask.  "What, Mistress?"

"Boys never cum when I'M working them unless I let them cum or unless I
make them cum.  Other than that?  It's blue-balls city for all the guy
subbies in Juana's little town!  I'm real good at this teasin' stuff,
so get ready for a long, LONG night, sugar!"

Then she spun on her toes and considered the display of sex-toys on the
bedside table.  She picked up the larger of the two vibrators and the
strange, long narrow toy.  "We're gonna play a game! I call it, 'Pick
your own poison!'" With all the flair of one of Barker's Beauties from
'The Price is Right', she displayed each of the two toys individually
in front of Ty's face, and then hid them behind her back.  The motion
of her arms and shoulders gave the indication that she was shuffling
the toys between her hands.  Then she stopped.  "Pick a hand, any hand,
and you get what you pick!"

With a few minutes of relief from Juana's sensual assault, Ty grew
marginally more alert and aware of his surroundings.

"C'mon, boy, play with me!  Which hand?"

A grin lit his face as he took in where she was standing, and then he
nodded to her right hand.  "That one - the one in your right hand," he
said.

Juana brought the indicated hand forward with a wild flourish to reveal
the long, narrow toy.  "Ta-Da!  You win!"

Ty chuckled.  "Didn't matter which hand I picked - you'd already
decided which one I'd get."

Her sexy grin faltered, and Juana nearly frowned.  "Did not - you got
what you chose, fair and square!"

"Did so!" Ty retorted, in a tone that any big sister with a little
brother would instantly recognize."

She actually stamped her foot and pouted at him.  "DID NOT!" she
yelled, her demeanor all little girl foiled in her schemes.

"I guess you haven't ever played this game in this room.  Look behind
you."  Juana looked over her shoulder and he continued.  "You're
standing in front of your bedroom door mirror, and you're tall enough I
could see your reflection between your legs.  I saw you switch it into
that hand after I picked it - so THERE!" and damned if he could stop
himself - he stuck his tongue out at her.

"SMARTASS! That's not FAIR!"

"Who said what's fair between a Mistress and a sub?"

"YOU have to be fair, that's the rule! I'm the Domme and I make the
rules!"

Ty started singing in his best Barry Manilow voice, "I am Mistress, and
I make the rules."

For several seconds, Juana simply stared at him, unable to move.  When
she did, it was to sent the two toys down and go to the case.  She
extracted another latex glove and more of the lubricant.  "Hmmph...
well, smartass, if you aren't going to play right, I'm gonna have to
punish your tight little ass."

Her tone hadn't changed all that much - still outraged eight-year-old
who didn't get her pony for her birthday, so Ty wasn't TOO worried
about the punishment.  She donned the glove and lubricated her fingers
copiously returning to her place immediately beside the bolster so she
had easy access to his groin and his butt with each hand.

The plug popped out easily enough, and he took the two fingers she slid
into him without trouble.  Gently stroking her fingers in and out of
him, Juana wiggled their tips about on each downstroke as if searching
for something.  "You would have enjoyed my last game, but you had to
play mean!"

Suddenly, Ty's cock jumped, earning a pleased grin from Juana.  She
repeated the movement, and was rewarded when it jumped again.  "Now,
I've got you!" she said, triumph ringing in her voice.  Moments later,
Ty was surprised to see milky liquid leaking from his cock - little
dribbles that came out in time to Juana's stroking.  Strangely, while
what she was doing didn't really hurt, it didn't feel all that good
either.  There was nothing of the intense, almost mind blending arousal
of their earlier play.  In fact, his hard-on was wilting , even as his
seminal fluid slowly dribbled out.

"Did you know, smartass, that by massaging your prostate, like this?"
and she gave a sudden twist of her fingers that cause a mini-spurt to
erupt, "I can drain all your sexual juices out of your body, but you
won't really cum.  And after you're all empty?  If you haven't
recharged and try to cum?  You're gonna shoot a blank, but your poor
dickie will keep trying to push out stuff that just ain't there.  My
subbies tell me it's like your cock has the dry heaves.  Not much fun,
little man!  That's why it's one of my favorite punishments for naughty
little sissy boys who sass their Mistress!  Are YOU going to keep
sassin' me, Tina?

Ty swallowed very hard, and tried for a suitably remorseful look.  "No,
Mistress.  I'm sorry for not playing fair.  Honest."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 13: Opening Night!
By Tigger c2008


Certain she'd made her point, Juana returned her full attention to
driving her playmate nuts.  She teased Ty mercilessly, holding him
right on the ragged cusp of climax.  At the same time, she was
carefully, steadily 'breaking him in'; guiding him to the point where
he was more than just willing, he was eager for the anal sex play.

Juana was, indeed, very, very good at keeping him on the very edge of
orgasm.  More than that, the denial play made her very hot - just as
she'd warned him.  A fact that became abundantly clear to Ty as he grew
increasingly aware of a sweet, musky scent perfuming the air that his
hormones told him was essence of aroused woman  That alone almost got
him off.  Almost.

ShaJuana had thought it was the intensity her teasing that almost got
him.  "Ooo, like THAT, did you?  You're what we in the business call a
hot-ass, little man, and I'm gonna get old Long Tom in you, yet." At
that moment, the muscle spasms that signaled his imminent climax
started.  "Hey, hey, HEY! You don't think I'm gonna let you cum YET, do
you?" she demanded as she gave him 'the pinch', completely unaware that
is was her own pleasure driving Ty crazy.  "Oh, yeah, that slowed you
down, didn't it?"

He learned to hate that little pinch move of hers as the night wore on.
Whenever she'd sensed the onset of his climax, she would press her
thumb against the underside of his cock at it's base.  It was like
someone put a cork in his spigot and then driven it in with a bung
hammer.

However, if he'd had time to think, hell, if he'd been able to think,
Ty would have thought that this wasn't bad at all.  Well, assuming he
finally got off, it wasn't.  There had been that one time he'd had to
use his free hands to stop her - because she'd been so into her scene. 


Juana had been working him over using both vibrators - one aft, one
forward - and the intense, unrelenting stimulation with no release
finally got to him.  He'd started to hyperventilate, which had been
exacerbated by his body's semi-inverted position.  With the weight of
his lower body pressing downward against his chest, he hadn't been able
to unload his diaphragm and that large muscle had begun to cramp.  Ty
had reached out to tap her, but she'd been too gone into Top Space.
Flinging his arm out, he'd reached between her legs to grab a handful
of muscular buttock and then pulled.  She'd nearly fallen, but had
managed to catch herself.  Seeing the problem, she'd immediately
dropped her toys and begun to massage the cramping muscle.  Ty had
regained his breath quickly enough.  

Then, a very concerned Juana had knelt down beside him, taking his chin
her her hand so she could look in his eyes.  "Are you okay, Ty?  Do we
need to stop?  Do you WANT to stop?"

"Are you done, Juana?  Have you done everything you set out to do?
Everything you NEED to do?"  He'd seen the answer in her eyes, and
smiled.  "I hate to repeat myself, but I am utterly at your service,
Ma'am."

Tears had glittered in her eyes, and her smile had been brilliant, "As
it should be, my dear, dear little man." 

~-~

Time loses meaning when you are at the edge of the precipice staring
down into insanity, Ty thought with what little of his brain still
working.  His body was exhausted, too.  Hell, even his eyelids felt
like his lashes were laced with lead.

And yet, his dick was still just fine and dandy, except for being so
hard that using it might get him five to twenty in the state
penitentiary for assault with a blunt instrument.  A bleary eyed glance
over at the weapons table told him that 'Long Tom' had entered the
fray...or was that, had entered him?  Whatever.  Felt pretty good, too.

But when those painfully tired muscles again started the ball-
tightening spasms that signaled the imminency of release, Ty knew he'd
reached the limits of his endurance.  He felt Juana's hand sliding down
him to the 'pinch-position' and he lost it.

His right arm swung out from his voluntary bondage, grabbing her from
behind, curling around her left leg and pulling her to him.  Juana,
taken by surprise, was pulled off balance and found herself falling
onto the bed, her face towards Ty's groin.  Scrambling to regain her
balance, she ended up straddling him.

Ty found himself face to face with the very wet gusset of Juana's hot
pink thong, and she smelled like heaven.  There was only one thing a
guy in his position could do and Ty did it.  Juana felt strong hands
grab her hips and pull her back until she was sitting on Ty's face.  An
instant later, her panties were brushed aside and she was being
devoured.

She was the one sent into orbit as her first orgasm went off like a
sky-rocket.  Marvelous though that release was?  It hardly touched the
fires that two hours of non-stop foreplay with this man had stoked in
her core.  It did take the edge off, though, and she realized she would
be damned if that sneak was going get the better of HER!  She fell on
his over-stimulated cock, mouth first, swallowing him whole while
unleashing the full power of the toy still lodged in his ass.

The orgasm they built together was going to be epic - both knew it, and
both fought that inevitable explosion with all their will power.
Partly to make it even greater, partly to win this battle to get the
other off first.  Finally, neither won, and neither lost, and their
world dissolved into a maelstrom of light, heat, pleasure.

And love.

And then their world went black.

~-~

He started to awaken when he felt the warm comfort of her body on his
leave him.  The sound of the velcro straps on his leg being ripped open
and the feeling of the last toy being gently slipped from his backside
finished the job.  His brain somehow managed to convince his hands to
unbuckle the 'seatbelt' that held him to that bolster.  He rolled off
it but couldn't quite manage getting up from the bed.  That was okay,
he decided, and kicked the bolster to the floor to make more room.  

He opened his eyes and was pleased to discover he could still see.
That was good - great even - being able to see in a world that included
the tantalizing ShaJuana Price was a very good thing indeed.  In fact,
he needed to see her right then! A quick scan of the room found her
putting the toys back into the case.  

She saw him watching her and smiled at him.  "We'll have to clean these
up, but that can wait 'til tomorrow.  I'm just too beat right now." 

"Not too beat, I hope," Ty replied, his eyes hopeful.  "I want more of
you, Juana."

The smile that lit her face was magical, and brought with it some of
the cockiness he so enjoyed about her.  "Don't you even think you're
leaving that bed, Ty-RONE.  I ain't even half done with you, yet."

He started to get up anyway, only to have ShaJuana plant both hands
squarely on the chest, and push him back down onto the bed.  "My pants
- I have protection..."

He never finished because ShaJuana pounced on him, pinning him to the
bed so she could lick his face like a hungry cat.  "Forget about the
damned condoms, boy.  I'm on the pill."

The kiss she planted on him melted what was left of his mind.

~-~

Dawn's first pink rays were peaking through the bedroom window shades. 
Ty rolled over and gathered Juana's long, lithe frame to his, making
sure to brush the 'V' of her bare bosom with his morning beard.  The
responding shiver and the giggle delighted him.  "Juana?  You awake?
Think we need to do the wedding night thing tomorrow for Solange, Tall-
booty?"

Evidently not a morning person, Juana growled like a panther, and
rolled over to hide her head beneath her pillow.  "Shut up and go back
to sleep, little man.  You can't possibly be thinking about more sex -
any kind of sex - not before next month at least."

Ty considered that for a moment, and then tapped her on the shoulder,
"Uh, Juana?"

"WHAT?!?" she snarled in tones that would have sent lesser men
scurrying for cover - or hiding beneath them.

"I'm more than thinking and it's gonna be a lot sooner than next
month..." he murmured, nibbling his way the back of her neck to that
spot he'd found JUST behind her ear.

"Huh?" she mumbled, confused, her brain about two seconds behind her
body.  "Ooooo YEaaaah.  Shit, Ty! I'm gonna... damn... get you bunny
ears and a damned... oh yeah... just like that... damned drum..."

"Later... you can do that... Later." 

"Mmmmmm, okay.  later... 

"TY!!!!"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: Another Family Evening at Home.


She was seated in her hand-carved mahogany throne, thoughtfully
thumbing through  a glossy pamphlet.  A cheery fire danced in the gas
hearth, casting magical shadows in the otherwise dark room.  At her
feet knelt a man, nude except for a mob cap, a lace apron and six-inch
stiletto heels, his head resting happily in her lap.  


Absently, she stroked him as she thought about what she'd learned
earlier that day.  Tyrone and ShaJuana had gotten past the near
disaster caused by her short-sighted planning, and had experienced the
magic that came only when two people connected spiritually and
emotionally as well as physically.

She wondered if either of them realized just how far they'd come in the
short time both had been in her employ.  Probably not.  Juana still
thought she was going to be the exclusive top in that relationship,
with Ty bottoming to her as a matter of course.  If Juana were thinking
objectively about their night's activity, she'd realize that the power
had been exchanged back and forth between the two of them several
times.  But, she reminded herself, a woman in love is never objective. 
It was a happy thought, and she leaned over to kiss the forehead of her
slave.

Of course, Ty was no more objective than ShaJuana, and even more
clueless as to the reasons why.  That was to be expected, she smiled
inwardly.  For all his incredible empathy and sensitivity, his ability
to take on the most feminine of roles without any apparent flaw, Tyrone
Edwards was still just a man.  Well, an exemplary example of that
breed, if Juana's goofy smile and giddy spirits were anything to judge
by, but a man nonetheless.

The most important thing she'd learned today was the reason behind Ty's
determination to become her dungeon's full-time transvestite switch.
After they'd spoken, she'd made some discreet inquiries, and had
obtained the pamphlet she'd been playing with.  It explained a good
many things, particularly why he was willing to take on that abortive
scene the other day.  The cost would be steep.

"Slave?" she said softly.

He reacted as if a Paris Island Drill Instructor had called him to
attention, and snapped into the at-attention position she'd taught him
- back straight, eyes looking directly in front of him, hands finger-
locked behind his neck, and on his knees.  She smiled as she saw his
penis begin to erect, simply because he was obeying her, and presenting
himself to her.  After all these years, she thought.  Well, she was a
woman in love, too, wasn't she?

She handed him the pamphlet.  "What can you tell me about this place?"
she asked, softly.

He glanced at the crest on the front page, and then looked back to his
Mistress.  "Good place, Mistress.  Most all of the real professionals
in the business went there or taught there.  There's a TV show on one
of the cable channels where the head of the school interviews graduates
who've made it big and gives their current student body a chance to ask
questions."

"Did you attend there?  she asked.

"No, Mistress, but then I'm really just an enthusiastic amateur.  I get
my name on the posters and on the adverts, but I'm only the guy with
the money."

"I can't recall you ever being involved in a failure, slave, so I would
say you undervalue yourself.  That undervalues me, so don't do it
again!"

He blushed - all over his body.  "I didn't mean it like that, Mistress.
Oh, I seem to have a feeling for what the public will like because I'll
only back stuff that I like, but I couldn't do the real work that makes
the shows great.  That's what I meant."

She reached over to pat his head, and was rewarded with the look of
utter adoration she found nowhere else.  "So you say.  I have a friend,
slave, who would like to attend this place, and I would like to help
him.  Do you have contacts at this institution who might help us give
this person something like an anonymous scholarship?"

He shrugged.  "I think so, Mistress.  Heck, I could endow a scholarship
- put it in your name with the only stipulation that this person be the
first winner.  I probably should do something like that anyway because
it would be good for the business."

"You could do that?  They'd go along?"

"I might have to sweeten the pot a little - you know, commit to having
five of their students on every project as interns, but yes, if you
want me to do that, I promise they'll go along, Mistress."

"If it is possible and reasonable to do from a business perspective,
then yes, I'd like you do that for me."

He nodded, a most peculiar motion with his hands behind his neck and
his bent arms extended like wings.  "I'll get on it.  Should have the
preliminary arrangements complete by the end of the week."

She was so happy, she launched herself from her chair and tackled him. 
He easily caught her, and ensured he took the brunt of the fall as they
ended up on the floor with her on top.  She kissed him deeply, hugging
him tightly.  "Thank you, darling," she said softly.

"It is entirely my pleasure, Mistress."

The warm glow of twenty seven years of love bubbled up in her, and she
kissed her man, her slave again, more tenderly this time.  "I think,"
she said softly, "It's about time you carried me up to bed, slave.
After that, I want you to go to your room and find my husband for me.
I feel like making love long into the night and his presence is
required."

"Yes, Mistress," her hubby-subbie breathed reverently.  "I'd be very
happy to do that for you."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 14: As Maitresse Likes It 
By Tigger c2008


Solange made her way to the dais with the slow, measured elegance the
common folks would expect from the Queen of the Nile.  She had been
very particular about the placement of the small stage in the dungeon's
large, second-floor ballroom.  She wanted to be able to see and be seen
by all of her guests, and clearly, that goal had been achieved.  By the
time she reached center stage and took up the microphone, all
conversation had stopped and every eye was fixed on her.

With a royal flourish, she set aside the cane and flogger she carried
in lieu of Pharaoh's crook and flail royal scepters, and raised the
handheld microphone as if to speak.  For several moments, she simply
stood there silently, scanning the assembled guests - her subjects -
before beginning her address.  "Mistresses and slaves, tops and
bottoms, honored guests, it is time to begin what we hope will be the
highlight of this year's festivities." 

>From her position off to the side of the dais, Tina studied the two
hundred or so attendees, seeing their attention completely focused on
Solange in her personal interpretation of Queen Nefertiti.  They were,
she thought, a very mixed bag of folks, at least insofar as their
varied modes of attire were concerned.

Certainly, all the professional Dominas associated with the dungeon
were in some type of costume.  Solange would have insisted in any case,
but her intervention hadn't been necessary.  To a woman, they all
enjoyed being the center of attention too much to miss the chance to
strut their stuff at a party.  If there was a dominant female fantasy
figure not represented by these ladies, Tina mused, it must be pretty
esoteric - like maybe a dominant bitch-nerd or some such.  Certainly
all the more common fantasies were in full evidence - everything from a
very wicked looking nurse to a dauntingly stern schoolmarm (yardstick
at the ready!).  Not to mention Queen Nefertiti, up there on the dais,
in full makeup, golden headdress and crown.  Okay, so maybe the real
Egyptian Queen didn't wear black silk or high heeled sandals, but hey,
if the fantasy took some liberties with historical accuracy, Solange's
costume and presentation were WORTH it.  

Most of the males in attendance had eschewed costumes, with the notable
exception of those lifestyle submissives who were there to 'escort' to
their individual owners/Mistresses.  There were a couple of leashed
'dogs' and one really buff Chippendale, but Tina thought the one
dressed as Cupid, complete to his tiny wings, even tinier diaper and
toy bow and arrow, was particularly cute.  The pony-boy in his harness,
bit and blinders was pretty impressive.  too, but she wondered
precisely what kept that tail in place.  Never ask a question to which
you couldn't be sure you REALLY wanted to learn the answer, up close
and very personal.  That  was now her motto - at least since she'd come
to work for Solange.  

There were also a couple of cross-dressed slaves in full drag-queen
regalia.  Their apparently intentional ineptitude gave Tina cause to
wonder if anyone in the crowd had read or was reading her?  Probably,
she mused  but more likely by the genetic women in the crowd than the
men.  A couple of the unattached males had already hit on her.  Her
leather equestrienne outfit was pretty hot, if she did say so herself,
but it did tend to draw the type who wanted to be on the receiving end
of her dressage whip.  How, she wondered, were you supposed to 'beat
them off with a stick' if being beaten was their whole purpose in being
here?  Challenges, challenges, she was always dealing with these little
challenges.  

Most of male guests and clients were dressed in suits and ties, or in
formal black-tie evening wear.  She wondered what would happen to all
those spiffy clothes if the opportunity to play presented itself.
Locked up in one of the prep rooms, probably, because good D/s play
tended to get a little messy at times.  

There were also a few women in attendance who were not costumed -again
mostly they were garbed in elegant evening wear - and they were, to a
woman, the escort of one of the members of the mundanely dressed male
client group.  Wives or significant others, she thought, coming to see
what hubby or SO really wants in the bedroom?  Maybe.

However, if there were a prize for tonight's 'outstanding costume?'
Tina decided that she'd have to declare the contest a dead heat between
Solange and ShaJuana.  

Juana was currently prowling about the ballroom dressed as a sleek,
black panther - a hungry sexual predator on the hunt for her favorite
prey.  The latex body suit she wore blended almost perfectly with her
own coffee-colored skin tone, giving the casual observer the first
impression she was nude.  Tina wondered how anyone could see that
magnificent female animal in all her glory and not start howling at the
moon?  She certainly felt that urge just now.  

Juana's hands sported fingerless gloves made to look like cat's paws,
and that showed off her off blood red nails, errr...claws.  A bold tail
curled up from her bottom (and Tina thought it unlikely that it was
'connected' in the same manner as the pony's had been) and a pair of
alert cat's ears peaked through her wildly teased mane hair.  White
face paint and lipstick gave the illusion of a sexy feline muzzle that
curled into a very scary grin.  Just looking at her made Tina's hands
sweat and her mouth go dry.

"Have I got your attention?" Solange called out.  A few voices yelled
out in the affirmative.  "Good! When each of you presented your
invitation at the door tonight, you might have noticed that we peeled
your name off the invitation and put it into hollow plastic balls -
much like this one."  

She held up a purple colored sphere, about two inches in diameter.
"Now, we're going to have a drawing, and the winners of the drawing are
going to have a chance to win a free, full day session at the dungeon,
without regard to cost.  You want my six sexiest dommes taking turns
using your butt for spanking practice?  You'll have them! You want to
run the gauntlet of every playroom in the house, spending an hour in
each room as the honored guest of a different Mistress?  It'll happen! 
You want the chance to hone your bound naked wrestling skills and take
on a Mistress tag team with one hand - or perhaps both hands - tied
behind your back?  You'll get it!  You want to be one to dominate that
special Domina who has driven you to the point of insanity when you
were HER submissive?  She'll be there and be yours."

She let the buzz of excited chatter build throughout the room before
giving them the rest.  "Hey, now you all just calm down for a second! I
didn't say the drawing winners would get the prizes - I said they'd get
the chance to win - there's a big difference!"

"What would we have to do to win?" a voice called from the back of the
room.

"Why, escape from my Hall of Horrors within three minutes of entering."

"What is it?  A mile long?"

Solange laughed at that, and shook her head.  "No, silly - it takes up
barely half the dungeon level - no more that a couple hundred feet or
so.  Each of the four lucky contestants will enter on one side, and if
he or she escapes out the other side in under the time limit, then
we'll have a winner!"

Skepticism was clear on many of the male clients' faces, Tina saw.
They must know Solange pretty well, she thought amused.

"Can't be that easy!" a voice called out finally.

"Easy, who said anything about easy?  Who would DARE expect anything
easy in MY dungeon?  Puuhh-Lease," Solange sniffed, earning an uneasy
laugh from the males in the group and a heartier one from the dominant
women.  "I will say, however, that there are three ways to win and
three ways to lose.  That's as fair as it gets, right?" 

She let that thought hang for a few moments, and then, smiling
wickedly, she continued.  "Here's the basic premise.  The player -that
is, the person with the chance to win the free session of a lifetime -
he or she isn't going to be in there alone.  Oh, no! There will traps
set for the unwary intended to slow them down, or to capture them
completely.  There will also be at least one of my Mistresses in there,
too, with the expressed goal of capturing the player, or at the very
least, preventing the player from exiting my Hall of Horrors within the
three minute time limit.  She captures the player if she gets him or
her down on the floor and holds them there for a count of ten."
Solange grin became wider.  "Note, I said a ten-count, not ten seconds.
I'll be doing the counting."

That earned more laughter, just as she'd intended - some hearty, some
anxious.  "If the player is captured," 'Nefertiti' continued, "Or if
the player doesn't escape within three minutes, he has already given
consent, by agreeing to compete in the first place, to belonging to the
victorious Mistress - or Mistresses," she said, put heavy emphasis on
the plurality, "For the rest of the evening.  Just so you all know?
Each of these specially selected huntresses of the night have spent the
last week preparing a VERY special challenge play scene for the lucky
winner...I mean, loser."

"Hey, waitaminute," a female voice demanded.  "That sounds like two
ways to lose and only one way to win."

"So it is.  Okay, if the player manages to capture the Mistress before
the three minutes are up the player wins.  All a player has to do to
capture the Mistress is take HER to the floor and hold her down for a
ten-count without her escaping the hold AND without the three minute
alarm sounding.  In addition to his prize, winning by capture includes
getting the losing Mistress as his or her submissive, or as a topped
from the bottom Domme, for the rest of the evening.  So that's two ways
to win and two ways to lose.  Everybody got that so far?"

The crowd's vocal response was generally affirmative, so Solange smiled
and continued.  "The other way to win is to complete the challenge play
scene with the victorious Mistress before the stroke of midnight
without safewording.  Since these Mistresses and scenes will be the
result of a completely random drawing, we realize a player may get a
scene that might violate personal limits.  We will, as we always do,
honor anyone's safeword.  However, safewording only stops the challenge
scene - that player will still lose the challenge, which will entail an
additional forfeit."

"That sounds a lot like being punished for safewording, Maitresse," one
of the tuxedo-garbed men asked.  "That's not fair!"

"You might well take it that way, and if you truly DO feel that way, I
suggest you decline to participate if I select your name out of the
basket.  These will not be normal play sessions, my friends.  These are
challenge sessions.  For a prize of this magnitude, there has to be a
comparable price," Solange said seriously.

"Does the player win the Mistress if he just escapes?" Someone called
out.

"Of course not," Solange's tones were caustically dismissive.  "You
want to own a Mistress, even for a night?  You have to capture her, but
she wins the contestant by either method."

"NOT FAIR!" someone in the back yelled out.

"And your point is?" Solange asked, her voice all saccharine-sweet,
earning a mostly feminine laugh and a deep flush from her accuser.  "My
game - my rules.  Play or don't play, it makes no difference to me!
Any other questions?"

One of the Dominas that Tina did not recognize stepped forward, pulling
a leashed male costumed as a very ugly dog behind her.  "Before I'd
order Muffy here take that kind of challenge, Solange, I need specifics
on the forfeit.  I don't mind another Mistress putting him through his
paces, but I normally insist on being the one to evaluate his use of
his safeword - after a little time for emotions to cool, and in the
privacy of our home."

"Fair enough.  First, let me tell you that I have personally screened
all proposed scenes to ensure that physical injury is NOT an issue.
Sitting down comfortably afterwards may be, but not injury.  All
right?" A general murmur answered that question but Tina couldn't tell
if it was positive nor negative when Solange pressed on, "If a player
accepts the challenge, enters the Hall of Horrors and then safewords at
any point before they've completed the challenge, we will lock the
player in a gender appropriate chastity device and return their
clothing to him or her.  The key to the chastity device lock will ONLY
be given to the player when he or she decides to leave the party for
the evening.  Once they have the key, he or she won't be allowed to
return to the dungeon until Thanksgiving, when all the contestants, and
their significant others, will be the guests of the dungeon for our
holiday dinner and other festivities."

"So the forfeiture means no sexual release for the losing player until
after leaving here?" the Mistress holding 'Muffy's' leash asked,
sounding almost hopeful to Tina's ears.

"That's the plan.  Once all four contestants have made their attempts,
the other playrooms will be open and monitored for safety, as we always
do for one of our parties.  Challenge losers will be allowed to stay as
long as they want, and they, like any other guest, will be able to
watch the fun, but participating might be frustrating and uncomfortable
for them."

Cupid raised his hand, and Solange acknowledged his Mistress, who gave
him permission to speak.  "Maitresse, any clues as to what the
challenge scenes will entail?"

"An excellent question, dear.  Not to give you too much information,
but we will have a scene involving a truly whole-body massage,
guaranteed by the Mistress in charge to send the loser out of body.
There will also be a corporal punishment challenge, one involving an
extended teasing and denial session, and last but not least, a very
special slave scavenger hunt.  That's all I will say for now.  If
that's not enough information for you, again, I must suggest that you
decline to participate."

"As if I'd let him wimp out like that," the Mistress standing beside
him retorted before giving him a fierce look.

"If there are no other questions," Solange said, "shall we get on with
the drawing?"

"Sounds fair enough." 

"Okay with me." 

"When do we start?" 

"Ought to be fun!"  

"Can't wait to see what happens!"

"Hope you get selected, Muffy!"  

"Arf, arf, arf!"

"All right, then.  Mistress ShaJuana, would you do the honors and pick
the first name, please?" Solange called, picking up a large bag from
the floor beside her.

ShaJuana skulked up to the dais, every sensuous step emulating the
great cat she portrayed.  Once there, she snarled at the audience, and
then proceeded to pull a single ball from the bag.  She handed Solange
the ball, and stepped back to watch the rest of the selections play
out.  Solange set it down on the table, and opened it up.  "Oh, my,"
she breathed, and then called out, "James Harris, will you accept the
challenge?"

Tina almost giggled at the goggle-eyed young man.  Then he swallowed
hard.  "Ummm, yes, I guess.  ummm, Maitresse."

"Come, come, James - yes or no.  This is no time to be wishy-washy.  Do
you accept my challenge or not?"

There wasn't a man in the room, submissive or otherwise, who could have
ignored the nearly derisive tone in Solange's voice.  "Yes, Ma'am, I
accept.  

Harris was then ordered to approach the dais and select the next ball. 
Solange grimaced extravagantly as she read the slip of paper she held
up after opening the ball.  "Hmmmm, I'm not sure I want to offer this
one, since he's MY slave, and it would annoy me greatly for HIM to
dictate his next scene with me, or to dare to attempt top me." She made
a show of crumpling up the paper and looking around for a trash basket,
then grinned.  "Oh well, fair is fair.  Walter Evans, do you wish to
accept the challenge?"

This was the one, Tina realized, the one Solange wanted to challenge.
She saw the hesitancy in his eyes, but she also saw the hunger.
Empathy, along with a well-honed instinct for the right line delivered
for best effect took hold of her.  "Looks like he's either too happy
with your current attentions, Solange, or too afraid of your wrath,"
Tina said lightly, but loudly enough to be clearly heard throughout the
crowded room.  "Perhaps you should select another in his stead?"

Her jibe struck home, for Solange's sub flushed bright red, and then
blurted out, "I accept, Maitresse."

"Oh, very well."  Solange accepted with apparent disappointment, before
offering the bag to Evans for him to select the next candidate.  " And
our next contestant is," she hesitated for effect, "Victor Davis.  Mr.
Davis, do you accept the challenge?"

There was an uncomfortably long silence answering Solange's challenge. 
Tina thought he was going to say 'no' because the look he gave Solange
revealed none of the fear and/or excitement she'd sensed from first two
winners.  Then he shrugged, squared his shoulders and said in a very
steady voice.  "Yes, I'll accept the challenge."

Only Tina caught Solange's quick shiver of relief at his acceptance
because she quickly turned to three Mistresses who had been waiting in
the wings.  "Please escort the players to the waiting room and help
them prepare."

'HEY, WAIT," an attractively plump Mistress yelled.  "You said there
would be FOUR contestants!  You only drew three names!"

Solange made a show of hitting herself in the head with her palm.
"You, know?  You're right! I almost forgot that I had already decided
that two of my Dommes were going to go into the Hall, just to prove
that everything's fair.  Because, as we all know, no TRUE Domina would
willingly submit - especially to someone she competes with for subbies
on a daily basis.  And I knew, immediately, just who those two
Mistresses would be.  You see, Mistress Antinelli over there," and Tina
stood stock still as Solange waived the microphone in her direction,
"Owes me a forfeit for - can you believe it?  - being LATE to pick me
up for lunch just the other day."

There was a collective gasp from most of the male contingent, and more
than few feminine snickers from the many Dommes.

Solange brought the microphone back to her lips.  "Mistress Antinea, do
you dare to take up the same challenge as our three guests?  Or are you
going to wimp out in front of all your colleagues and our clients, and
refuse this challenge?"  There was a bite in those words, even though
Tina had been prepared for them,  that got her ego juices flowing.

ShaJuana jumped up on the dais and grabbed the microphone from Solange.
Her grin was diabolical.  "Oh, YEAH! Go ahead and take it, cutie," she
growled low in her throat at Tina, "I won't be... TOO... rough.  Not
unless you beg real nice."

Tina slowly crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and stared hard at
the feline-garbed Mistress.  "Really?  What makes you think I'd be
paired against you?"

Solange snatched the microphone back before ShaJuana could respond.
"Because," she said in very heavy tones, "In contrast to you, you
naughty girl, Mistress ShaJuana has actually far exceeded my demanding
expectations of her recently, and so I promised her a little reward.
She chose you.  I'm giving you to her, or rather, I'm giving her a
chance to win you."

"Same thing, Solange," Juana interjected, leaning over so she spoke
into the open microphone.

"Safely, sanely and consenually, of course, dear," Solange replied,
casting a sardonic grin to the tall black girl.

"Oh, of course - wouldn't do it any other way," ShaJuana purred, for
she'd been waiting days for another chance to get her paws on her
diminutive friend, again.

"You did say, Maitresse," Tina asked, "That I could win HER by taking
down Mistress ShaJuana in the Hall of Horrors, and then it will be me
who gets to dominate HER?"

"Exactly, Mistress Antinea," Solange agreed.  "The same challenge, the
same rules, the same prizes and penalties."

A ripple of disbelief and laughter floated through the guests, for
Juana's intense style of play was well known by client and colleague
alike.  Not many of the Mistresses in attendance would willingly give
the tall, dark and lovely amazon carte blanche over their bodies - no
negotiation, no yellow code, and a forfeit for safewording - even those
who would privately admit to some submissive urges.

"Then, of course I accept the challenge." Tina said, her voice carrying
over the continuing buzz from the crowd, "And Juana?  You just keep
enjoying those girlish little fantasies of topping me in that special
challenge scene because that's all they'll be -fantasies.  I'm taking
you down, Tall-Booty!  I have wanted that long, gorgeous bod of yours
dancing to my tune for simply ages.  Trust me on this! You're gonna be
the one who'll need the safeword, not me!"

Stunned silence answered this unknown, not particularly physically
impressive Mistress who'd just thrown down the gauntlet to one of the
largest, strongest Dominas in the city.  For her part, ShaJuana simply
grinned, looking like a jungle cat who had just found a very confused,
particularly juicy wildebeest stuck in mud.

"Very well, the challenge is accepted," Solange called out.  "Then, let
us begin again.  These Mistresses will escort you to the prep room
we've set up for to get you ready for your challenges." 

The three Mistresses, Isolde, Betina, and Vanessa, stepped forward to
link arms with the four contestants.  As they began to lead them away,
Solange added loudly, "Bring their locker keys to me for safe keeping
once they've locked up their clothes and you have them all kitted out."

Harris spun on his heel and stared at the Maitresse.  "Clothes?  kitted
out?"

"Of course there are some...little preparations.  Just to make things
fair."

"Fair?  Like what?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing.  "That wasn't part
of your description earlier."

Solange gave an exaggerated shrug.  "Well, since you ask, we thought
that since we're giving you three minutes to escape, and since you are
going to be challenged by mere women, Mistresses though they may be,
we've added a few items to make the challenge more... challenging.
Nothing too restrictive - just trying to ensure that any physical
contest a bit more even.  As for taking your clothes, well, it IS a
Hall of Horrors.  If you don't mind having that lovely tux get slimed
in KY-Jelly, or some other such indignity, we won't insist you go in
wearing the, ah, somewhat skimpy attire we've selected for you.  Seems
a waste to ruin such a fine suit though, when a shower after you ...
win?" and there was a questioning challenge in her voice, "will put
things to rights.  It is, however, entirely your choice."

"You didn't tell anyone about that before hand," he repeated, his tone
rebellious.  "You call THAT fair?"

"Oh, very well.  if you feel that bit of non-disclosure was unfair, I
suppose I MUST let you just quit now." She didn't say 'wimp' but the
word was still 'heard' by everyone present -particularly Harris.  "I
won't even make you pay the forfeit if you quit on us now.  Anything
unfair about that, Mr. Harris?"

Tina walked up to Harris and put her hand in the crook of his elbow.
"Shall we go, Mr. Harris?  We don't want to miss out on the fun, do we?
Surely you intend to win in any case, don't you?"  For a moment, she
thought he might still back out, but then he shrugged.  Turning, they
followed the others toward the preparation rooms on the other side of
the large hall.  A sense of anticipation hovered over guests as they
settled themselves in front of the recently installed big-screen
televisions, ready to be entertained.

~-~

The blond Valkyrie (Isolde) and Natasha Fatale (Betina) escorted the
three men into one prep room while Venus, Goddess of Tough Love,
(Vanessa) took Tina to another.  Tina had not yet had occasion to work
with or be trained by the voluptuous red-head, but knew her casually
through other members of the dungeon staff.  

Vanessa's specialty was age-play.  She was highly skilled at turning
her clients into 'little boys or girls', subject to the whim of a stern
mother, teacher or baby sitter played by Vanessa.  She always claimed
that this was something that growing up in her Italian, mother-
dominated home had well prepared her.  

"Don't think I'd have taken that challenge, Tina," she said as she
closed the door of the prep room behind them.  I mean, ShaJuana is sexy
as they come, and her clients worship her, but damn, she's BIG!"
Vanessa was even shorter than Tina, and it would have been no trouble
at all for the powerful black Amazon to diaper HER.  "I KNOW I wouldn't
have had the brass tubes to taunt her that way!  How in god's name do
you think you're going to take her down?"

"Well, I admit it's a daunting proposition," Tina said, as she shed her
costume's riding boots, coat, blouse and jodhpurs, "But you know what
they say, 'the bigger they are,' et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
Besides, if that bit of trash-talk pisses her off, even just a bit?
She might get a little careless."

 "And she might damn-well get YOU, Tina, and then where will you be?
Either in her clutches or wandering around the dungeon in one of
Solange's wicked chastity devices."  The petite Domme gave an
exaggerated shudder as she carried over the box containing Tina's 'kit'
for the game.  "Here's the latex bra and thong," she said offering
international orange-colored garments to Tina.  "Cripes, you're gonna
glow in the dark in those things."

"Well, guess Solange isn't THAT concerned about making things fair,"
and then giggled at the goggle-eyed look from her helper.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 15: Things That Go Thump in the Dark
By Tigger c2008


The Valkyrie used her sword to clear her path of any stray male slaves
as she moved toward Solange.  She whispered something in the Queen's
ear, then turned to leave once more.  Nodding her approval, Solange
moved back to the dais and took up the microphone.  "Your attention,
please.  We're just about ready to begin, but before we do, I want to
discuss one more aspect of this game with you now that our contestants
are isolated and cannot hear what I have to say"

The remaining guests gravitated back to the dais, their full attention
on the Queen.  "Now, I mentioned earlier that safewords would be
honored, but that they would be construed as a challenge failure.
That's true, insofar as that goes, but let me give you the fuller
picture of how we will ensure safety in these sessions." 

THAT got their attention, Solange thought.  She had expected that the
previous description of "being punished for safewording" wouldn't sit
well with many of the more experienced players in the room, so she'd
decided to share this aspect of her plans with the larger assembly.  It
meant that watching the challenge-scenes would lack some of the drama
she'd originally envisioned, but given the nature of the people she had
invited, she'd known she would need to bring them more fully into her
real plans.

Just not quite ALL the way in.

"Look, we know that we will be putting people in situations in which
they may well  heavens  they WILL find themselves immersed in some
pretty heavy play-scenes.  I think it is likely that these will be
scenes for which the contestants may have little or no experience.  As
a result, we at the dungeon are very concerned about tripping hard over
unexpected limits.  In order that this potential is absolutely
minimized, I have asked two of the most knowledgeable and intuitive
Dommes in the city to observe all challenge play via closed-circuit
video links.  They will serve as dungeon masters for these challenge
scenes, and as such, I have granted them final and ultimate authority
to terminate any challenge scene at any time for any reason.
Additionally, if they terminate a challenge scene because they believe
the player is or is close to violating his or her own limits - in other
words, trying TOO hard - the involved player will still earn the
winner's prize.  However, for reasons of safety, we will ask that
player to refrain from participating in any more play tonight."

She saw the relief on the faces of key members of her audience and knew
this had been the right thing to do.  "Thanks, Maitresse," the man who
had voiced the original concerns spoke up.  "I feel better about this
now."

Solange nodded regally, and then picked her microphone back up.  "All
Right, Then! Our players are ready.  If you will all look at the screen
behind me, please?"

The screen split to show two views of the curtained-off portion of the
upper floor.  There were clearly two breaks in the curtain.  On the
left hand side of the screen stood a very nervous looking Walter Evans.
A murmur rippled through the crowd as they took in his 'kit', which
consisted of grossly oversized boxing gloves tied on to his hands, a
bright orange jock strap, and some type of chain between his ankles.

On the other split of the screen, they saw a thick-bodied brunette,
garbed in a ripped 'Gold's Gym' muscle shirt, running shorts and
sneakers,  waiting patiently at the break on the opposite side of the
curtained area.  

The Domina was Mistress Emerald, a competitive body builder whose work
at the dungeon helped defray the costs of her training.  Her domination
specialty was using raw strength to overwhelm her clients physically,
either in tests of strength or in wrestling matches.  She was also
generally acknowledged to give the hottest hand spankings in the
dungeon, usually as a forfeit for having lost to her in some test of
strength.  

Solange lifted the microphone to her lips and called out, "Ladies,
Gentlemen and slaves - ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE??!?"

A loud cheer answered her, and she grinned.  "I've always wanted to do
that.  All right, then, Mr. Evans will attempt to evade or to capture
Mistress Emerald within three minutes in the Hall of Horrors! But
first, let me explain the kit we have provided for our contestant.  The
orange, ummm, athletic supporter is just that, and it includes a cup."

She shot a frightening smile down at the two males closest to the
stage.  "Just in case something happens... there?  Don't you think,
boys?" 

She was rewarded when both men reflexively clamped their legs together
in Pavlovian response to the image she'd indirectly put in their minds.
"I see you do.  Now, about those boxing gloves.  They've been tied
tightly to his hands so that there will be no danger should he
accidentally hit Mistress Emerald in his certain-to-be futile struggles
to escape her clutches," Solange reported as an unseen operator zoomed
the camera in on the oversized gloves.  "I'm told that this size glove
is specifically used for training children to box, and that it is
almost impossible to strike a hurtful blow when wearing them.  They
also," she added with an evil smirk to her audience, "Do interesting
things to the wearer's manual dexterity."

An appreciative buzz filled the room, and Solange continued.  "If you
will notice Mr. Evans' feet," and the camera panned down, "You will see
he has been restrained with a hobble chain.  The chain is only two feet
long and has two bells.  We've tested this apparatus recently, and have
found it is almost impossible to move about with that chain on and
prevent the bells from ringing."

"And now, let the games begin!" Solange flipped a switch on the table,
and spoke again.  "Mistress Emerald, you may enter the Hall!"  The
powerfully built mistress shot her opponent and the camera her best
front double biceps flex pose, then slipped inside.  

"On the count of three, Mr. Evans, you will enter the Hall and the
clock will start! One, Two, Three!"  The crowd cheered as the Evans
took two halting steps toward the curtain and then tripped and fell
through the curtain, his bells ringing merrily.

Guests quickly dispersed to the other large screens scattered
throughout the ballroom, everyone trying to get the best possible view
as the split-screens shifted to follow both Mistress and contestant
into the unlighted space.  The cameras installed in the Hall had been
selected for low-light functionality, so the figures were clear and
distinct, if not colorful.

Emerald, clearly confident of her ability to handle a hobbled and hand-
deprived submissive physically, took up a position ten or so feet
inside the exit point.  She settled into a defensive stance - feet
spread with her hands relaxed and in front of her- and settled to wait
for her prey to come to her.

For his part, Evans was trying to walk while holding the two bells with
his boxing gloves, in an attempt to muffle them.  It worked to a point,
but even the thumbs of the damned boxing gloves were too wide to get
into the bell mouths, so they continued to ring with every step, albeit
considerably muted compared to their clattering during his inauspicious
entry into the Hall of Horrors.  

The crowd howled with laughter at the incredibly awkward position he
assumed to be able to hold the bells and still 'walk'.  "He looks like
he's a doggie taking a dump!" one wag was heard to say.  

~--~

In addition to looking ridiculous, walking in that position was very
hard on the normally unused muscles in his glutes and thighs.  Walter
had barely managed twenty feet into the Hall when the strain and burn
of muscle fatigue started to set in.  He gritted on, making his way to
the hall's first corner, but then had stop for rest.  If only his hands
were free, he thought.

~--~

Solange watched on the monitor screen as he tightened his knees on one
gloved hand, then pushed his body up with his legs using all his
strength.  Not so easy as that, my little man, she thought, and was
just as quickly proved right.  The glove remained fixed to his hand.
Worse, his knee-grip slipped and he was flung backward against the wall
by the force of his own legs; the tinkling of silver bells clearly
audible throughout the entire dungeon floor.

~--~

Emerald heard the bells, faint as they were from her location, and
calculated that he must be about a third of the way around.  

"Two minutes left," Solange's voice called out over hidden speaker
system.  Well, the muscular Domina thought as she flexed her fingers
and hands, he's right on time.

~--~

Evans tried to think of something - anything - he could do to turn this
around.  He had only TWO minutes left and no idea for how far he still
had to go.  Well, Emerald MUST have heard that bell peal - that was for
sure.  So if they rang a little more and he got some time back, he'd be
no worse off than he was, right?  Who knew?  He might just catch her
unawares and run past her.  Thought became deed and he took off as fast
as his chain-hobbled feet could manage.  

He'd just gotten to the second corner when his feet hit something
slippery.  He felt them go out from under him  and fell hard on his
butt.  He must have slid ten feet or more before he stopped.  He
couldn't feel anything with the gloves on, so he stuck his nose next to
the floor and sniffed.  Vaseline, he thought.

An idea hit.  Sitting flat, he used his legs and gloves to dig the
bells into the goop, trying to scoop as much of the stuff into the bell
mouths as he could.  He tested them, and smiled nary a sound.  Now,
Mistress She-Hulk and he were on nearly even terms.  At least he had a
chance to out-stealth her.

~--~

That noble lady had heard her prey's "ooof" of surprise when he fell,
and then nothing.  She could tell he was just down the long hall from
her.  He was close - very close.  She readied herself to repel a final,
all-out headlong charge for freedom.  He'd try to get past her and go
for the exit, she thought, because they both knew he didn't have a
prayer of holding her down, even if he got lucky and knocked her off
her feet somehow.  Well, there was no way she was letting him get past
her, either.

She'd promised Maitresse Solange.

"ONE MINUTE," Solange announced.  "One minute to go, and we can see you
both.  You're a LONG way from victory, Mr. Evans.  Too bad."

~--~

Evans had submitted to La Maitresse for years, and he knew her -knew
her tricks, knew her voice tones.  She was goading him -probably
misleading him.  He HAD to be close to the end.  Surely, in one
minute...

~--~

Emerald was getting a little worried.  Where were the bells?  Why
weren't they ringing?  Had he hurt himself?  Was he down and not moving
because he couldn't move?  Surely not, because Solange was watching,
and she'd announce something like that stop things and call for help -
if there was a problem of that nature.  

Dammit, why weren't those bells ringing!?

~--~

Evans crept a few more feet, feeling his way along the wall, but he
nearly slipped again.  The damn vaseline was still on his feet.  "30
seconds!  You have only 30 seconds!"  He needed to be able to go as
quickly as possible and to do that, he needed traction.  Carefully, he
began to wipe his feet against the tiled floor, trying to scrape away
most of the lubricating jelly.

And slipped again, causing his foot to rub too hard against the floor.

SQUEAAWWWK!  It was like fingernails on a blackboard.

~--~

That was loud and close, Emerald realized, immediately on full alert.
She searched the darkness and listened hard.  She almost missed it -
almost missed HIM!  It was just a small sound - a quiet rasp of air -
the kind of sound she herself made during competitions just before she
threw her best pose at the judges.  He was gearing up to make his big
play right now.  She stepped into the corridor and just barely caught
him - right by the waistband of his jockstrap - as he tried to race
past her hiding place.

~--~

Riveted to the monitor in front of her, Solange finally relaxed.  Once
Emerald had her hands on him, it was all over for Walter.  Oh, he tried
to punch his way free, but with no real effect, thanks to the boxing
gloves.  Poor Walter was lifted off his feet and taken gently to the
floor, held tightly in Emerald's signature 'She-Bear Hug.'  Solange
actually reached the end of the three minutes before she could count to
ten for the capture, but in this case, that really didn't matter.
Emerald would have won by either method.

"The WINNER!" Solange announced to the cheering of her guests.  "And
FIRST EVER Hall of Horrors Champion is Mistress Emerald!" Behind her,
and throughout the ballroom the split screens merged into a single
view.  Two tall and powerfully-built male slaves (obvious for their
uniforms - slave collars and matching jock straps) appeared on screen. 
They bowed to Emerald before reaching down to pick up a gasping Walter
Evans, and lifting him up on to their shoulders, one at his head, the
other at his feet.

"Take him to Play Room 2, slaves," Solange ordered into the microphone.
This order was acknowledged by a simultaneous bow from both slaves that
somehow did not in any way dislodge their burden.  

Turning back to her audience, Solange smiled.  "We'll have a short
break for refreshments while Mr. Evans is taken to begin his challenge
scene.  That session will, by the way, be available for viewing on one
of the four screens in the back of the ballroom if any of you would
prefer to watch that as opposed to the next competition.  In the
meantime, my maintenance slaves will be resetting the traps and
clearing away anything left in the Hall by our last two contestants.
By the way, while the Mistresses who will oppose our last three
contestants have been able to watch this contest, our remaining
contestants have been kept in isolation and have not seen or heard any
of this."

"That's not fair, Maitresse!" a laughing female voice chimed.

"No," Solange agreed, her own laugh bubbling beneath her words, "It is
not, nor was it intended to be."

~-~

In Playroom 2, Walter Evans stood, backed against a ceiling-to-floor
column as the two slaves cuffed his hands behind him and around the
column.  Emerald relaxed to one side, watching with her muscular arms
crossed beneath her impressive surgically-enhanced, bosom.  The slaves
turned to her, expecting to be released, but she only shook her head.
"Strip him," she ordered softly, "Completely."

>From a nearby cabinet, she withdrew a 'plain brown package', holding
it in her hands as the slaves pulled the jock, cup and hobble chain off
her charge.  When the pair came back to attention, she smiled.  "That
will be all.  You may tell the Head Slave that I found your efforts
entirely satisfactory.  Please return to your holding area until you
are summoned again."

When she turned back to face Evans, she saw his attention was entirely
focused on the package she held in her hands.  Carefully, so as to
ensure he could see everything clearly, she began to remove the brown
paper from the parcel.  When he saw it contained, he groaned.
"Mistress," he whispered, "I thought that would only be the result of
safewording."

Smiling as she disassembled the clear plastic male chastity device,
Emerald replied, "You thought wrong, then.  If you satisfactorily
complete my challenge, this will be removed and you will be free to
participate fully in any other scene that suits your fancy."

With quick, sure movements, she quickly fitted the device to him and
was locking the part holding his penis to the ring that encircled the
base of his penis and underneath his scrotum.  A small brass padlock
ensured he could not be freed without the key.

"Are you ready to hear what I require in exchange for your freedom?"
she asked, her voice soft and even.  He nodded, his eyes wary.  "You
are to honor me by undertaking a quest.  La Maitresse called it a
scavenger hunt earlier, but to people like you and me, Mr. Evans, this
will be like the quests of legend, when a knight served and honored his
lady by undertaking and accomplishing great deeds in her name."

"Great deeds, Mistress?  What... what do I have to do?"

"Why, you must seek out and obtain the Golden Dildo, then present it to
La Maitresse, all before the clock chimes midnight."

"How do I find it?  Where is it hidden?"  Now there was fear in his
eyes, a certainty that he would not like the answers, but a need to
know nonetheless.

"To answer your first question, it is in the ballroom -somewhere.  Even
I do not know its precise location for La Maitresse had already hidden
it before I arrived.  To find it, you must seek out those who will give
you the clues that will lead you to the next person with a clue.  They
may choose simply to give you their clue, or they may ask a boon of you
- their choice.  If you want to win the prize, and more importantly,
truly desire to please your Mistresses - both La Maitresse and myself -
you will do what must needs be done to seek the prize."

"Out ...there?  In the BALLROOM??!?  Like THIS?  Mistress, I'm naked!
I... I don't DO public play... it... it's one of my limits! A HARD
limit."

A sad look crossed Emerald's face.  "I see.  Well, I suppose that is
why I have been given this, then," she said, as she put a necklace with
a small key suspended from it about his neck.  "That is your safe-code
for the rest of the evening.  It will unlock the locker in which you
placed your clothing.  Present that to the slave stationed at the coat
check, and your clothing will be returned to you immediately.  You will
dress at the coat check and then be escorted to the downstairs foyer
where my little gift," she pointed to the male chastity device locked
onto his genitals, "Will be removed.  You will, of course, forfeit your
chance at the prize, and you will not be permitted to return here until
Thanksgiving."

"I CAN'T do THAT!" he said, nearly in tears.

Shrugging, Emerald reached behind him, and released the cuffs holding
him to the column.  "Very well, I am a ethical Mistress.  I do not
abuse slaves by forcing them to violate their limits.  When you leave
this room, turn left and go to the end of the corridor.  The last door
on the right will take you directly down to the coat check area.  You
won't have to go anywhere near the ballroom and you will avoid having
to face La Maitresse."  She turned her back on him, as if to leave.  At
the door, she stopped, her eyes hard on his.  "If, however, you are the
submissive your Mistress believes you to be, one who honors her with
his best efforts in her service, you should turn right and follow that
hallway back down to the ball room.  Seek out the Aphrodite's Roman
Incarnation.  Farewell, Mr. Evans.  I wish you well in your choice."

~-~

Solange watched the interplay between the hard-bodied Domina and her
recalcitrant slave closely, and felt her stomach fluttering with
nerves.  Was she right about Walter?  Did he truly WANT this
experience?  Would this help him over what she was convinced was a
false limit, or had she just driven him away?

Or worse, had she just sent him headlong into something he truly could
not handle.

She couldn't think about this, she told herself!  She had two extremely
knowledgeable and intuitive women watching over and protecting her
contestants for just this purpose.  Hadn't she told them to pull the
plug immediately if they had ANY concerns about the sub's emotional or
mental state?  Indeed she had, so she'd better let them do just that!
In the meantime, it was time for her to get the second act of her
little play under way.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 16: What Mistress This Way Comes?
By Tigger c2008


"Ladies, gentlemen and slaves, we are ready for our second contestant!"
she announced as she mounted the dais.  "And who will be the next to
fall to my Hall of Horrors?  None other than our lovely Mistress
Antinea! I know that, like me, you cannot wait to see what our ebony
goddess, Mistress ShaJuana, has in store for this delinquent Mistress'
challenge scene!  So, please direct your attention back to the screen
behind me!"  

Juana and Tina were at their respective entry points to the Hall of
Horrors.  Juana, all grinning cocky confidence, was almost dancing in
front of what all the viewers now recognized as the victor's exit in
her impatience to get started.  Tina, on the other hand, stood quietly
confident in front of the entry portal.

Every eye locked on the challenger in her orange rubber bikini and a
buzz of appreciation filled the room.  Solange's smiled, all dark
satisfaction, before she continued.  "If you will please take notice of
soon-to-be-subbie-Antinea's attire," and the camera panned up and down
the tightly muscled body.  "You will see she is garbed identically to
our previous contestant, with the exception of the rubber sports bra.
Something our buxom lass needs quite as much as you boys would need
your cups.  Otherwise, things might bounce about and get in the way."

~--~ 

Every eye except those of Walter Evans, that is.  Outside the final
door leading to the ballroom, Walter Evans cringed in the dark
stairwell.  Why, oh WHY had he turned right?  The hall door on the
third floor had closed and latched behind him, meaning he was now
stuck! He could no longer simply disappear without a trace through the
back door Emerald had offered him.  He HAD to go into the ballroom,
even if just to quit!  

He was NEVER going to finish this scavenger quest by midnight.  He
wouldn't get to serve Solange for a WHOLE month!  He NEEDED the release
from responsibility she gave him, Dammit!

But it was just too much.  He just couldn't...

A flash of white caught his eye.  Turning back quickly, he saw a very
curvy redhead walk by, heading towards the buffet tables.  Wasn't that
a toga?  And on her head, some kind of crown?  Could it be?

Without thinking, he was out the door and into the ballroom.  "Mistress
Venus?" he managed to call.  "Please, Mistress, a moment of your time. 
Please?"

~--~

Solange saw Walter break from the stairwell, and scurry off after
Vanessa.  For just one instant, she closed her eyes in thanks.  She
hadn't been wrong.  Now, all she had to do was make sure he passed his
challenge.

After a properly demanding and victorious quest, of course.

~-~

"Let the contest begin!  Mistress ShaJuana, you may enter the Hall!"
The feline mistress gave two thumb-claws up, and slipped inside.
Solange spoke again.  "On the count of three, Antinea, you will enter
the Hall and the clock will start! One, Two, Three!"  This time, the
crowd counted with Solange, and then cheered as the hobbled Tina went
to all fours and bunny-hopped, bells ringing loudly, through the
curtain.

Knowing what to expect this time, the crowd hurried to get the best
spots about the ballroom's large screens and prepared to follow this
pair's progress toward their mutually exclusive goals.  Small wagers
were offered this time around, usually with some type of slave service
as the payoff, on how this pairing would do.  Most agreed that the very
athletic Juana was at a distinct advantage in this confrontation.  

The cameras tracked them into the unlighted corridors, seeing them more
as faceless shadow figures than people.  ShaJuana, never one to simply
wait for anything to come to her, went prowling her way into the Hall
of Horrors, stopping every few steps to listen.

~-~

Tina, on the other hand, took two bounds into the dark space, and then
sat down, putting her back up against the outer wall of the hallway.
She slid along the floor on her bottom until she came to the first
playroom's door, and then slid further back into the recessed doorway. 
Getting up onto her knees, she quickly spun about so her back was to
the hallway.

~-~

It also put her back to the camera tracking her progress, partially
obscuring her from the viewing crowd in the ballroom, much to their
audible annoyance.  The operator rapidly switched through the various
video feeds, sampling the available cameras, but was unable to get a
clear picture of what the girl was doing.  

~--~

Working quickly, Tina brought one gloved hand up to her mouth and began
working at the boxing glove's knots with her teeth.  That mode of
escape had not occurred to Vanessa, so the knots on Tina's glove came
loose without difficulty.  Moments later, her hands were both free, and
she was reaching back to undo the buckles that held the hobble-chain
strapped to her ankles.  She picked up the chain by the bells,
carefully ensuring that the clappers could not move.  Satisfied, Tina
crawled out of the doorway, silently resumed making her way further
into the darkened hallway.

~--~

"I suppose," Solange observed to her audience, "That we should have the
other contestants' gloves checked for better knots, eh?  I think our
dear ShaJuana might be in for a surprise, eh?"

~--~

Juana wasn't the only one surprised.  A screamed "OH SHIT, WHAT IS THIS
CRAP?!?" had Tina hitting the deck, and straining eyes and ears to scan
ahead of her into the darkness.

~--~

On the screen, the attendees laughed heartily as Juana struggled to
free herself from what appeared to be a gigantic white spider's web
that had fallen on her from the ceiling.  It was evidently quite sticky
as well, for camera close-ups showed the latex fabric of her catsuit
stretching away from her body as she tried to pull the webbing off her.


Perfect, Solange mused as she watched the furious woman struggling to
get the sticky twine from her hair and losing her cat's ears in the
effort.  It had taken a while to find a spray-on version of the
adhesive used on post-it notes, but it had worked just as she'd hoped
it would.

~--~

Juana threw the sticky mass to the floor, sacrificing her gloves along
with the ears, not to mention a few hairs, to be rid of it.  Tina had
designed this place, she thought, her nostrils flaring.  TINA had KNOWN
about that damned web thing and she hadn't TOLD her best friend!  Well,
some sexy little TV slut had just earned herself another HOUR of orgasm
denial!  A beautiful concept, the tall, black goddess thought as she
resumed her hunt.

~--~

Not quite so cautious in your stalking now, dear, Solange thought to
herself as she watched Juana move more quickly through the darkness.
She'd known that Juana would not be one to guard the exit and let the
prey come to her.  That was just much too passive an approach for their
beloved Mistress ShaJuana Price.  No, this big jungle cat would want to
hunt down her prey; would want to meet Tina at least half way and face
to face.

~--~

Having designed the layout of the Hall, Tina had been able to move
quickly and silently, while avoiding the traps that had been laid to
give away or even entrap any hapless contestant that fell their way.
She made it, without incident, to the first corner where the hall
turned to follow the shorter dimension of the third floor toward the
back of the building.  There, she hid, just out of sight of anyone
coming down that corridor, kneeling on the floor, and listening.

~--~

Knowing that her prey would be wearing boxing gloves and the belled
hobble chain, Juana had not bothered changing her shoes.  Now, in the
silence of the otherwise unoccupied dungeon, her heels rang out like
little hammers rapping on the hard tile floor.  She stopped, and
wondered momentarily if she should take them off before continuing her
hunt.

"90 SECONDS LEFT!" Solange's voice echoed loudly.  

She couldn't do it, she realized.  She could outrun Tina in her heels
since Tina was hobbled, but if the little sneak broke past her while
she was one-shoe-on, one-shoe-off, she'd be screwed.  No way to move
quickly with one foot wearing a four-plus inch heel and the other in
just a stocking.  She'd likely kill herself.  Taking a deep breath, she
began to move again, more slowly this time, and listening hard for the
sound of those little silver bells.

~--~

The anticipation of the guests was becoming palpable as they watched
the split scene, one view showing Tina waiting in ambush on one side of
the corner, the other showing Juana creeping up from the other
corridor.  Contact was imminent.  Would the little one try to get past
the tall, powerful mistress and just run for it, or would they collide
in an epic Mistress-on-Mistress cat-fight?  

Not one of the many viewers hoped it would be the former.

~--~

Tina heard the muffled clicking of Juana's heels, and fought the
impulse to hold her breath.  Carefully, she tightened her grip on the
hobble chain and waited - hoping...

~--~

Juana was fairly certain she was approaching the last corner in
Solange's Hall of Horrors; the one that would turn onto the corridor
that ran along the front of the block.  That would have her heading
directly for the entrance Tina had used.  If the sneaky little bitch
was going to lay in wait, this corner would be where she'd do it, but
why hadn't Juana heard any bells?  Maybe Tina only moved while she'd
been otherwise involved with that web?  She put out her hand to find
the wall, and began moving very cautiously, her ears and eyes wide
open.  

Only she didn't see or feel the trip-wire about her ankle until it was
too late.

~--~

The camera tracking Juana from behind was instantly dazzled as the
broken tripwire closed a circuit and turned on a spotlight directly
behind and above Juana's head.  Its beam was directed at a floor to
ceiling, three panel dressing mirror mounted against the far wall of
the corridor.  The reflected light blazed fiery white into the dark-
adapted eyes of the Amazon, dazzling her as well.

The operator was able to switch to a camera out of the beam's path just
in time to see Tina move.  Juana did not have the same option.

~--~

Keeping her head low and her eyes away from both the direct and
reflected light, Tina leapt at Juana's feet, leading with the chain and
wrapping it about the taller girl's ankles.  With one quick tug, she
pulled the unstable ankles together, tying the leather straps in a
makeshift knot.  Using her shoulder in Juana's gut, she broke the
taller girl's tripping fall, and then slid out from beneath Juana to
let the Domina slip all the way down to the floor.

~--~

She couldn't freakin' SEE!! Juana's hands went out, trying to catch
herself, trying to regain her equilibrium when something TRIPPED her,
and she started to fall over, face-first...  

~--~

Cheers resounded throughout the viewing assembly, as the little blonde
reached out for the felled Mistress, flipping the larger woman onto her
back.  

~--~

Tina jumped aboard, putting all her weight onto Juana's upper body and
wrapping her arms around her lover to capture the taller girl's in an
arm-pinning bear hug.  "Gotcha" she gloated into ShaJuana's still-
dazzled eyes, and then bent down to kiss the struggling black woman
full on her mouth.

~--~

Solange grinned as she began the count.  "One...  Two...  Three..." and
was joined by almost the entire audience as she reached "Five..."

~--~

Juana was fighting to get loose with everything in her, but between
those damned heels and whatever it was wrapped around her ankles, she
couldn't get any damned leverage with her feet.  And with her arms were
being held so tightly to her body, they were useless, too.

"Eight, ... Nine, ..."

And damn, but that girl could kiss, was her last rational thought
before "TEN!" blared in her ears.

~--~

"And we have a WINNER!" Solange announced to the cheering of her
guests.  Behind her, the split screen morphed into a single view.  The
two male slaves again appeared on screen, bowing to Tina this time.

"Take her to Play Room 4, slaves," Solange ordered into the microphone
as they hoisted the still-dazzled Juana up onto their shoulders before
repeating their stylized synchronized bow.

~--~

At that very moment, Walter Evans - scavenger hunter - who had also
experienced the rush of success, was busily searching for his second
clue-giver.  

Some how, he'd DONE it!  Even when Mistress Venus had requested a boon
that had him laying there on the floor - right there in FRONT of the
buffet table and all the guests - drinking from a small baby bottle
filled with milk.  

He'd almost run for the exit right then and there, but he hadn't, and
inside the bottle had been a piece of paper wrapped in a plastic tube. 
"Find the one who is booted and suited, and ready for scooting to get
your next clue."

What the hell did that mean?  Almost every Domme here was in boots of
some kind or another, and none of them were nude so they were all
suited.  Weren't they?

Scooting?!?

~-~

In Play Room 4, a bubbling Tina supervised the two slaves as they
removed Juana's shoes before cuffing her ankles and wrists.  Ceiling
and floor chains were quickly attached  to Juana's wrists and ankles.
Not surprisingly, Juana resisted, but Solange had selected these slaves
for their strength, so they easily, if gently, overcame even her
efforts to stop them.  That done, a touch of a switch activated hidden
winches that pulled Tina's lovely prize into a standing spread-eagle
position.  Her legs were spread just enough to cost the taller woman
about three inches in height without putting too much of a strain on
her leg muscles and hamstrings.  That put the pair nearly on eye-to-eye
level.

"You cheated," Juana complained after the slaves had left.

Grinning broadly, Tina kissed the annoyed and pouting lips, enjoying
the savor of lipstick on lipstick.  "Only in that I knew where the
traps were," she replied.  "Everything else was fair and square.  I'll
show you the video - but after we're done -maybe tomorrow, if you're up
to it," she added, her voice silky with her anticipation.

"I don't think I should have to do this 'cause you cheated!"

"Gonna safeword, then?" Tina asked, her brows lifting in polite
inquiry.

"And spend the rest of this fine party walkin' around with a butt-plug
locked up my ass, and a steel dome keeping my many slaves away from my
clit and G-spot?!?  I don't think so!"

"Well, in that case, I guess, you're just gonna have to stand there and
take what I have in store for you, huh?"

Dark brown eyes went slitted and black, "What you're gonna have in
store for me, little girl, is unlockin' these chains and lettin' me
go!"

Tina spun on her heels and went to the small dresser she'd had put in
this otherwise starkly empty room, and opened a drawer.  "I don't think
that's what I want to do, Tall Booty," she said, removing an electronic
remote control and pointing it at the wall directly in front of her
bound friend.  "Nope, it's really not.  Hey, I think we'll just relax
and watch a little TV first.  For now."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 17: Much Ado About Something
By Tigger c2008


Back in the ballroom, Solange caught sight of Isolde signaling to her
from just inside the entry way that they were ready for the next
pairing.  She smilingly acknowledged the Valkyrie's signal with a wave,
and then made her way back to her dais.  Seeing her heading in that
direction, all of La Maitresse' guests moved quickly to huddle around
the nearest flat screen.

"Hear ye, hear ye," she called, waving her flogger-scepter in the air,
"It is time for our THIRD contestant to enter the Hall of Horrors.

~--~

Walter tried to ignore the attention his nude, chastised state was
drawing.  He didn't succeed, not really, but he did try.  He'd been
searching for the entire time that last pair had been in that damned
Horror place, and he still had no idea who the hell he was supposed to
find.  Was he supposed to ask everyone who wasn't naked if they were
ready to scoot??!

He was just beginning to despair when a tall, Rubenesque woman in biker
leathers and helmet walked by.

A Biker Babe, he thought, his eyes going wide.  He checked her out more
closely, and saw she was also wearing brightly shined, heavy-soled
biker boots to go with her riding leathers - her 'suit.'  Walter didn't
think a real Biker Bitch would refer to her machine as a 'scooter', but
it was worth asking, wasn't it?

He hurried over to the leather-clad woman and knelt before her.
"Ma'am?  Mistress?  Are you... umm, that is, are you ready for
scooting?"

A knowing grin answered him, and he swallowed hard against the lump he
felt growing in his throat.  "I might be," she answered, in a
surprisingly gruff voice.  "But a clumsy server slave spilled egg nog
on my boots, and I really think they need to be cleaned before I will
be doing any scooting." She sat down on a nearby chair and raised the
clunky boot near Walter's suddenly very dry mouth.  "Or handing out any
clues."

Closing his mind to the fact that his bare ass was currently mooning
the majority of La Maitresse' guests and that he had never met this
woman before, Walter bent over and began to lick away the sweet, creamy
confection from the proffered toe.

~--~

For the third time that night, the guests watched as a contestant
prepared to confront a Mistress in the dark of Solange's Hall.  This
time it was James Harris in the day-glo orange jockstrap, hobble-chain
and boxing gloves, but it was the woman who captured everyone's
attention.

Unlike many of her colleagues from the dungeon, this Domina had decided
to use her costume to advertize her dominant specialities.  Older and
more experienced that many of her colleagues at the dungeon, Head Nurse
Amanda actually was a Registered Nurse with a bachelor's degree in
nursing.  She had worked for fifteen years in that capacity when she
had decided to make her avocation for teasing and tormenting men her
vocation.  Now, in her white lycra nurse's costume, nurse-hat,
stockings and ice-pick white heels, she looked like she'd stepped out
of one of Olivia De Beradinis' nurse pinups!  She had the skills, the
desire, and she was also drop-dead gorgeous to boot.  For Amanda,
working at the dungeon was a dream come true and the perfect job.  

Due to her maturity, Amanda was sometimes called upon to play a 'Mother
I'd Love to 'F' or MILF role (always as the 'F'-er, never as the 'F'-
ee), but her primary dungeon specialties were the ones for which she
had trained her entire life.  Amanda provided a variety of medical play
scenarios for her clients, but her favorite scenes emphasized water
sports, play piercing, and cock and ball torture.  She loved her new
job so much she practiced her trade whenever she could find a willing
playmate, and practice did make perfect.  She could be as gentle or as
... un-gentle as each individual case warranted.  She could take a
newbie to heaven or a hardened masochist to hell with equal ease and
with complete safety.

And she was also Solange's best friend on staff at the dungeon -which
was why she'd been asked to take this particular contest.

"Please note," Solange called the guest's attention back to herself,
"the minor improvements we've made to our contestants' kit after
Mistress Antinea's unanticipated success.  The silver bands you see
around the gloves and the buckles of the hobble chains are made of duct
tape.  The contestants will have to get that off before they can even
hope to work on the knots.  We think it will cost vital seconds to free
enough of the knots, too."

There was a general sound of approval through the crowd.  They weren't
here to see the bloody contestants win!  They wanted to see them have
to deal with the consequences of losing - like that guy running around
the ballroom buck naked, drinking out of baby bottles and licking biker
boots!

Avidly, the guests watched the two contestants on the various monitors.
Instead of going straight to her place before the victor's exit portal,
Head Nurse Amanda sauntered, hips swinging, eyes smokey, over to where
James Harris stood.  "You ready, cutey?" she cooed before giving him a
pecking kiss on his colorless cheeks.  "I am.  And you know what I get
to do to YOU when I win this thing?"

The audience was vastly entertained by the look of stark terror on the
man's face as Head Nurse Amanda pulled down his jock and gave him a
quick hernia check.  "Cough darling! she ordered.  Blushing furiously,
but having nowhere to run, James did as ordered.  Smiling wickedly, she
then pulled the jock back up, solicitously ensuring all the important
parts were safely inside the hard plastic cup.  "Well, good news,
honey! You're in prime shape for what I've got planned just for you."
She put her lips to his ear and whispered for several seconds.

The audience couldn't make out what she said, but they could tell by
Harris' stunned reaction that it would be good!  REALLY good! Then she
gave him another kiss and strolled her way over to where she'd enter
the game.  

"Head Nurse Amanda! You may enter the Hall of Horrors!" Solange
announced over the speaker system.  Amanda grinned widely, waved and
called out, "Don't keep me waiting too long, Jimmy," before
disappearing inside.

"On the count of three, Mr Harris, you will enter the Hall and the
clock will start!"

Every voice in the ballroom counted out "One, Two, Three!" and then,
Harris tip-toed through the curtain, and into the darkness.

~--~

This was the critical one, Solange thought.  This was the one that
would make the final one work.  She knew Victor Davis even if he wasn't
her personal submissive - understood him on a very deep level.  He was
very much like her own little darling, and therefore he might, for very
excellent reasons, back out at the very last second, accepting the
forfeit.  Probably just leave and not come back until Thanksgiving - if
then - and that would be a double tragedy.  Solange hoped that the
outcome of this scene just might provide the impetus that might
convince him not to back out.

~--~

The taste of leather-flavored egg-nog wasn't that bad, Walter thought,
but he was grateful for the glass of sparkling water the Biker had
gotten for him from the bar nonetheless.  The Biker -she'd told him to
call her just plain Bonny - had then told him that his next clue would
be buried like a bone.

Buried like a bone?  Dogs supposedly bury bones - his never had, but
that wasn't the point, was it.  Was he supposed to go out in the alley
and look for overturned dirt??  

WAIT!  That domme who wanted to know the forfeit before she'd let her
sub participate in the game.  She'd dressed him like a dog, hadn't she!

Maybe the doggie slave would know!

~--~

The other revelers were now glued to the television screens, watching
as Amanda made her way into the hall, moving with what appeared to be
almost reckless haste.  "Bet she wants to get him in her gynecological
stirrups," a feminine voice offered.  "Fill 'im up!" another voice
answered, "'cause that one's sure to be a couple of quarts low!"

On the other half of the split screens, Harris was still tip-toeing his
way down the corridor, using one gloved hand as a feeler guide along
the wall.  An angry shriek rent the silence, coming from the far down
the corridor, and he flattened himself against the wall.

He was just about to start moving again when another, sharper yell had
him back against the wall.  "What was going on, anyway!?!" was clearly
audible from the various television speakers throughout the ballroom

The audience knew.  Both the web and the lubricant-slick floor had
caught Head Nurse Amanda.  She'd only gotten a glancing blow from the
web, and had been able to shed it easily enough, even if she HAD
screamed!  

And she hadn't fallen on the slick spot, either, because unlike
ShaJuana, she'd shed her heels on entering, so she'd had enough 'foot
on the floor' to be able to slide but not fall.  

"She looks really pissed," someone said.

Amanda headed for the last corner, determined to catch her prey when
she remembered the light trap that had caught Juana.  She tried to
stop, but she hadn't cleaned all the lubricant residue from her feet
and went sliding into the trip wire.

The system operator was prepared this time, and had already switched to
a camera that was outside the dazzle zone.  Amanda could not do that.

~--~

The light at the end of the corridor surprised James, for like the
other contestants, he hadn't seen the videos of the other players in
the Hall and so he didn't know about the traps.  Then Amanda came
staggering into his hall, her arms trying to shield her face from the
light.

Amanda terrified Harris.  Pins through his nipples, enemas, catheters,
weights dangling from his balls?  How the hell could any of that be
pleasurable?  It HAD to hurt! No way did he want to have anything to do
with any session THAT woman had planned, and certainly not what she
planned as a challenging session!

He watched her continue to stagger, moving her hands about as if
looking for something to hold on to.  OMIGOD, she can't see!  he
thought to himself.  

"90 Seconds - there are 90 Seconds left!"

For just an instant, James thought about trying to take her down and
capture her.  For all she scared him spitless, she was beautiful and
she couldn't see him...

No, he thought again.  If he got close enough to grab her, she was
close enough to grab him.  Even blind.  And Maitresse had said it was a
ten count, not ten seconds.  How fast would she count to ten if somehow
the nurse managed to land on top of him?

With that, he took off down the hall, dropping to all fours as he
skittered by the still dazzled nurse.  He turned the corner and used
the reflected light from the light trap to guide him to the final turn
just as Solange announced, "There is ONE MINUTE left -One minute!"

He did slip on the KY-Jelly patch, and tripped over and got tangled in
the discarded sticky web, but he could see the crack of light ahead of
him that meant escape.  Standing up, he hopped madly towards that
splinter of light as the voice of La Maitresse began the final
countdown, "10... 9..."

He broke through the curtain and fell flat on his face as she hit "3."

~--~

Solange turned to face the disappointed audience.  "Well, that's a
winner," she said, her voice sullen.  "Guess we don't get to see Nurse
Amanda working tonight.

On the screen, the two slaves arrived and started to help him to his
feet.  "Go in there - over on that side," he directed towards the
entrance portal.  "Nurse Amanda may be hurt.  I'm fine.  Just need...to
catch my breath and get out of this damned web!"

~--~

"If you want Muffy to show you where he buried his doggie bones, you're
gonna have to be nice and rub his belly for him," Muffy's Mistress told
Walter.  Muffy, for his part, had rolled on his back with one leg in
the air and his tongue lolling from his head.

Walter went white for just a second, and nearly bolted, but something
stopped him.  "Ummm, JUST his belly?" he asked, very cautiously, his
eyes fixated on Muffy's unrestrained boy-bits.

"Yes, of course, what did you think I meant?" she snapped.

He rubbed the guy's belly and was so glad that was all he had to do,
that he nearly forgot to be embarrassed.

~--~

Everyone was glad that Amanda wasn't really hurt, but unhappy to have
missed seeing her work James in her planned challenge scene.  Not so
unhappy, however, that anyone accepted her request for a volunteer to
take James' place in her planned session.  She still had her
reputation, after all.  None of the males in attendance were her usual
clients, and the Mistresses with escorts had plans for their boy-toys
that night that might be difficult if Amanda wrung her guy out like an
old dishrag.

Only Solange was really pleased.  Amanda had come through for her - had
taken one for the team so that the next play would have a better chance
of success.  It was time, she thought, for the final setup.  She
reached over onto the dais table, and flipped a tiny switch.  The
operator saw her signal, and blanked all the screens.

"Oh, My - looks like we've had some kind of glitch with the video
system.  We'll have it fixed soon.  Why don't you all get some
refreshment and I'll call you back as soon as we're ready again." With
that, she strode from the room, heading for the stairs.

But instead of going to the surveillance room to check on the system,
she headed for the Hall of Horrors ...

~-~

Mistress Antinea used the remote to mute the room's television before
turning her back to it.  Languidly, she looked her trophy over with
equal parts satisfaction and anticipation.  While she had never quite
believed that she would actually win their little contest in the dark -
ShaJuana was incredibly fit and strong, and could easily have overcome
Tina's advantages had she just been the tiniest bit less aggressive,
she had still planned her victory celebration very carefully indeed.

Man, oh man, she thought grinning, she had longed for this opportunity
for what seemed like FOREVER! 

Antinea gave a quiet laugh at her own hyperbole.  It certainly hadn't
been forever, but there sure had been a great many long, lonely nights.
Nor had it been quite THIS opportunity for which she'd been longing.
Heck, until very recently, she had not thought something like this
might be possible or even pleasurable.

And finally, she knew, deep in the part of her mind she usually kept
hidden even from herself while in character, that it had not been a
'she' who had been longing for this incredibly beautiful woman,
although that fact mattered less and less to her as time went on.

This playroom was decorated in what might best be described as 'Middle
Age Gothic Post-Modern Dungeon.' The walls had been carefully textured
and painted to have the look and feel of hewn stone.  Torchieres,
engineered to simulate burning wood torches, provided the chamber's
only light, although their uneven, flickering red glow shadowed more
than illuminated this Torquemada's realm of chains, shackles and
'torture' devices.  

Suddenly, in response to Antinea pressing another button on her remote
control, a single spotlight enveloped her 'guest' in and intense, white
cone of light.  The harsh bright light gave shadowy emphasis to every
muscle, every curve; to all the straining, glistening ebony perfection
that was ShaJuana Price in all her naked glory.  

Getting her out of that catsuit had been fun, Tina mused happily.
Cutting it off her while Juana had sputtered and cursed, before tossing
the bits off to a far corner of the room.  Even if she had to pay to
replace it, Tina thought, that unveiling had been worth every penny!

Juana had been bound like this since Solange's two slaves had left the
playroom.  Solange had assured Tina that an extended period in such
bondage would not pose any physical problem for a big, powerful, well-
conditioned woman like ShaJuana.  The angle formed by her legs was not
so severe that she couldn't keep her feet flat on the room's stone
floor, and Antinea had thoughtfully provided her with a saddle-like
stool to take a good deal of the strain off ShaJuana's limbs.  Still,
the position was sufficiently strict that the sleek, powerful muscles
of those incredible long legs and firm arms stood out vividly under the
harsh glow of the spotlight.

"God, Juana, you are SO gorgeous!"

~--~

The bone had been 'buried' beneath cushion of the chair Muffy's
Mistress had favored.  It had been made of two pieces, designed to come
apart when twisted at the ends.  Inside had been the next clue.

"It is time you were taught how to measure up to the highest
expectations of a Learned Mistress."

Handing the bone back to Muffy (who took it in his mouth) and giving
him a friendly scratch behind his ears, Walter wandered off, wondering
just who he needed to find to teach him that.

~--~

"Everything ready?" Solange asked Betina.

"I'd say so.  Isolde will bring him up when you knock on the prep room
door, and then we'll just see how he does, won't we?"

Solange had selected Betina as Victor's opponent Mistress for two
reasons.  The first was that he had subbed to her on several earlier
occasions and trusted her.  More importantly, Victor knew that Betina's
primary role at the dungeon was gently exploring a newbie's fantasies
during those first terrifying visits to a house of female domination.
He wouldn't be - shouldn't be - in anyway frightened by anything she
might be expected to propose for a challenge scene.

"You're going to let him come to you, right?" Solange asked.

'Natasha Fatale' shrugged her starkly white shoulders.  "As we agreed,
dollink." Then she became serious.  "Only way I'm going after him is if
it looks like he's going to pull the plug before we get a chance to
finish this thing.  You're going to have to key me using the loud-
speaker - again as we agreed.  If you say 'Get Moose and Squirrel' over
the loud speakers, I'll know you've decided we need to go get him."

"I'm hoping that won't be necessary."

"Me, too.  He's such a sweety, you know?  Well, we'll just do what we
have to do to make this one work out, okay?"

It wasn't, but it was all she had at this point.  "I better go down and
let everyone know the system is partially down."

"Yeah," the Goth Mistress agreed, grinning.  "Some things the masses
just don't need to know, right?"

"Right.  See you later, Bets, and good luck," Solange added, and then
headed down to signal Isolde to escort the last player to the Hall.

~--~

'Teach' and 'Learned' had to be, Walter thought, the operative words as
he scurried up to the stern, Victorian school mistress he'd seen
earlier.  He glanced up at the clock on the back wall of the ballroom. 
How the hell had it gotten to be 11:15??!?

"Excuse me, HeadMistress," Walter asked, "but do you have a clue to aid
my quest?"

Marie, Headmistress of the dungeon's 'school room' looked the quivering
man over with a gimlet eye.  She had a choice to make at this point,
and wanted to make the correct one, or at least, the best possible one.

Marie had actually been a licensed teacher in the city's public schools
for several years before burning out and looking for another way to
make her living.  When she'd discovered in herself both a taste and an
aptitude for games of sexual dominance, she'd married those tastes and
aptitudes with the training, skills and dreams that had initially
pulled a very young, idealistic and nurturing woman into the teaching
profession.  In her mind, she still was a teacher.  The lessons she
taught were certainly different, the clients were a good deal older and
the methods she used were very different - but her clients always
learned something during one of her sessions.  She INSISTED on that,
and held very high expectations for her little darlings.  It was, she
often mused, just too bad that her current 'motivational' tools had
been denied her when she'd taught 9th Grade pre-algebra in the public
schools.  She might have finally gotten to the seat of the students'
problems with paying attention and doing their work.

Marie's practiced eye could see that Walter was starting to fray about
the edges.  The toll taken on his emotional reserves to this point was
clear in both his body language and facial expressions.  She made her
decision, signaling him to proceed her with a wave of her yardstick.

"Very well, student, I think it is time for you to sit your exams.
Come with me!" she ordered, and led the way to the small area off the
dais.

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 18: My Love is Nothing Like the Sun...
By Tigger c2008


The assembled guests followed her to the dais as if she were the Pied
Piper and they were the children, Solange thought, amused.  She picked
up her microphone and turned toward them.  "We have had some kind of
failure in my video system.  I don't know what thingamie broke, but
basically what it means is that we can't watch the challenge scenes
because those feeds can only go one place until it gets fixed.  I've
decided that my Dungeon Master Mistresses need to see what's happening
in those rooms more than we do."

There were murmurs of agreement and consolation from the audience.
"Thanks for your understanding.  I'm sad about that, too, but at least
we can watch the last of our contestants go for the prize!" she said as
she made a grand gesture to the screen behind her.  It flickered once,
and then settled once again on to the split view of the two entry
points into the Hall of Horrors.

"Our Mistress in this competition, dressed as Boris Badenov's fellow
Potsylvanian spy and helper, Natasha Fatale, is our own Mistress
Betina!"  There was a smattering of applause, and then she pointed to
the other side of the monitor.  "Her opponent is Mr. Victor Davis.
Since two of our Mistresses have already lost, We thought about putting
a squirrel tail or moose antlers on him to help motivate Natasha, but
we couldn't find any in time."

There was general laughter, but Solange didn't want to wait any longer.
She needed to get this last one started!  "Mistress Betina, you may
enter the Hall!"

Betina, made a pistol with her index finger and thumb, and grinned as
she 'shot' it at Davis.  Then, she disappeared through the curtains.

"Mr. Davis!  On the count of three, you will enter the Hall and the
clock will start!" Solange called out, and took a deep breath as she
watched him slip through the curtains.

~--~

At least they were out of the main ballroom, Walter thought.  Almost
all of the guests were listening to La Maitresse, and there were none
of the large screen televisions in this part of the ballroom to bring
them here when the last guy's contest started.  

Head Mistress Marie led him to a furniture grouping evidently intended
to be a quiet, conversation area.  She stood him directly behind one of
the heavy, overstuffed chairs, so that his bare belly was brushing up
against it.  "Bend over the back of that chair!" she ordered,
punctuating her command with quick swat of her yardstick against his
thigh.  "I want to see your toes on the floor, hands behind your back
and your nose on the seat cushion.  MOVE!" she ordered, urging him on
with another slashing blow; this one to his other thigh.

He did as she ordered.  "Now, I want you to spell out - CORRECTLY - the
honorific of the woman to whom you kneel.  I will encourage you in this
examination by a thorough application of my motivational tool to your
upturned buttocks until you pass my little test."  A whistling stroke
cracked loudly against clenching ass-cheeks.  "Begin!"

~--~

To the watching guests, this pairing seemed to be shaping up as
something like a repeat of the first.  The Mistress costumed as the
femme fatale of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame took up a position about
twenty feet down the corridor from where she'd entered.

Davis was moving into the corridor, as had Walter Evans before him, but
without any real attempt to silence the bells.  He was moving as
quickly as the hobble on his ankles would permit, and as a result, he
reached the first corner well before the first minute was expired.
Cautiously, he stopped there, and went down on one knee.  

~--~ 

Solange had told them there'd be traps, he thought, as he felt around
the corner.  If he was going to set traps in this dark pit, he'd do it
at the corners - expecting to catch the prey when they were excited
about making it to the first check point.  

Unfortunately, he couldn't feel much through the bulky glove, and he
set off the trip-wire controlled light trap.  Fortunately, his eyes
were not in the direct line of either the lamp or the reflection from
the mirrors so he was only slightly dazzled.  Closing his eyes, he
rounded the corner on his knees and headed for the next corner.

~--~

"One Minute gone!" Solange announced as he headed down the second
corridor.  "There are Two Minutes remaining!"

That was to his advantage, the guests saw, because he was still on his
knees when he hit the greased floor trap.  Additionally, whatever
tripped the webbing was up higher than he was tall when crawling,
because he missed that one, too.

"Must be he figures he can just push his way past Betina, because he
sure as hell ain't being sneaky about it," someone offered.

"Well, she's the smallest Domme doing this thing.  I sure wouldn't try
this with Emerald or ShaJuana," a female voice replied.  

They agreed, watching him turn the second and final corner, and look
carefully into the darkness in the direction of his goal.

~--~

"M ...  A ...  I ... T ... R ... E ...  S ...  S ...  EEEEEEE!" Walter
yelped against the stinging fire lighting his bottom.  Somehow, he'd
managed to misspell La Maitresse's name three times.  Okay, two times -
the one time he'd forgot the 'L ...  A' at the beginning.

"That is correct!  You have mastered the spelling of your Mistress'
honorific.  You are released to your next class."

Walter looked up from his awkward position.  "But...but..."

"Speak clearly, student!"

"What about my clue, Head Mistress?"

Marie heard the dismay and fatigue in his question, and gentled her own
voice.  "You already have it, student.  Now go and find her."  And
then, she left before he could struggle up into a standing position.

~--~

Betina had moved a little further into the corridor, perhaps another
fifteen feet when Solange announced that there was one minute left.
Plenty of time for anything to happen, the crowd knew.  Betina was
going to have to stop him somehow, or he would win.

~--~ 

Victor wasn't really sure what he'd do if he won this contest.  It was
too bad what he really wanted wasn't on offer.  He'd taken the
challenge expecting to lose.  He wasn't afraid of the challenge thing -
so long as he could safeword if they approached his one hard and fast
limit.  That was a given because Solange, La Maitresse, wouldn't allow
anything else in her house.  

He'd already decided he wasn't going to try to capture Betina.  Hell,
what would he do with a submissive?  However, that didn't mean he was
just going to give in and let HER win.  Where was the fun in that?

~--~

Solange watched as Victor went back down on to all fours, and started
to gallop toward the finish line.

Betina barely saw him, but still managed to jump towards him.  He saw
her and made an incredible effort to twist his body so that he missed
hitting her head on - he really didn't want to hurt her.  He landed on
his side, and started to roll back to his stomach so that he could
start galloping again when something caught hold of the hobble chain,
and pulled!

A cheer went up as the guests saw that there was a second Mistress, one
who must have already been in the Hall when Betina had first entered.
She pulled hard on the hobble chain, causing Davis to go flat onto his
stomach, unable to get his feet to the floor.  Then, Betina jumped on
him, putting her weight on his shoulders.

Solange started the ten count, and was quickly joined by the rest of
her revelers.  Moments later, she announced that Mistress Betina and
her partner, Mistress De Masque, had won and that the losing contestant
was to be transported to Playroom 3 to await their pleasure.

~--~

Tina was tactilely and orally reacquainting herself with every square
inch of HER ShaJuana.  Juana had long since ceased complaining - about
being captured anyway.  Now she was complaining about being teased -
LOUDLY!

It could be fun being a bitch, Tina mused as she discovered the
pleasure to be had nibbling her way up the back of Juana's neck while
cupping and fondling those magnificent breasts!

She'd just about reached her goal when a red-light flashed on the now-
dark screen.  Time for the big show, she thought.  "Wanna watch some
television, Tall Booty?" she asked as she walked over to pick up her
remote.

"WWWHHHHHATTT??!?" was the bellowed response from a very frustrated
goddess as the TV screen flared to life showing the two slaves with
their burden entering a playroom with Betina and the masked Domme
following behind.

~--~

"Maitresse?" Walter called out from in front of the dais, catching her
attention from the screen on which her two slaves carried away Victor
Davis.

"Yes, Mr. Evans," she said, turning to face her kneeling submissive and
schooling her face and voice.

"Are you my next clue giver?" he asked, "Maitresse?"

"You should go soak your head, Mr. Evans," she said quietly.  It was
too close to midnight to put him through granting her some type of
playful boon, and he looked about ready to crash.  

"Soak my head?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well, dear boy, it is, after all, Halloween?"  Then she deliberately
turned away from him.

~--~

The slaves bound Davis hand and foot to a horizontal torture rack.
Betina activated hidden motors that slowly stretched him out until
there was no slack in the restraints.

"I think, Mistress Betina, that we should start by seeing just what
kind of man we've won here.  Is he a dud, or a stud?" the one called
Mistress De Masque asked.

Betina found a pair of scissors.  "I seem to recall that when I trained
him, he was...adequate, at least for size.  I can't tell you about his
endurance," she giggled as she passed the scissors to her partner.  "I
never let him cum."

Three quick snips had the jockstrap coming off easily in the masked
woman's hands.  "Hmmm," she replied, "Seems large enough -and growing! 
If he's this quick to erect, however did you manage to avoid ...
accidents?"

The Madame' gentle, gloved hand began to fondle him intimately.  "Maybe
I didn't excite his little willie as much as you seem to do, my dear,"
Betina observed.  The two woman looked to one side, where a floor to
ceiling mirror stood.  A little smile curled the blood red lips of
Betina's blond partner as she took in her own reflection.  The curvy
woman who smiled back from those silvered depths was stunning in the
tightly corseted black catsuit, heels and mask.  "He must really like
well-endowed, petite blondes."

Victor groaned in response to the teasing, 'Ummm, Mistress?  Please,
but I don't cum with the Ladies here - it's one of my hard limits."

"Oh, really?" the blonde purred, her fondling becoming more serious.
"You didn't mention that, Betina.  This one doesn't enjoy orgasm?  How
- interesting."

'Natasha' laughed.  "No, I think he enjoys it well enough - just not
here at the dungeon, but it is so much fun driving him to the edge of
insanity.  He's quite the only sub I truly enjoy forcing to safe word."

"Oh really?" 

"Yes indeed.  I've sent him out of here limping, his dick so hard,
holding his hands behind his back on his own because he refused to
touch himself and cum.  Only fair, because he won't sexually pleasure,
orally or otherwise, any of the Mistresses either."

"I don't think that's because he doesn't like girls," Madame observed
thoughtfully, "I mean, look at this hard-on.  I'm almost impressed."  

Victor groaned again, going rigid.  to control himself, and the masked
blonde went up to look into her victim's eyes.  "And why don't you want
to share pleasure with us, slave-boy?  hmmmm?" she asked, her hand
speed beginning to pick up.

"Because I won't be sexually unfaithful to my wife, Mistress.  I go
home, after serving, to make love with her - to worship her, even if
she doesn't know that's what I'm doing."

"Lucky woman, but I don't understand why you come here, slave-boy.  Is
she some type of prude, that you hide what you are and what you want to
give her?"

Tears glistened in Victor's eyes.  "I won't lose her because I ...
NEED this!" he growled through clenched teeth.  "I can't give this up,
but...but... MERCY!!" he called out, his entire body clenching against
the suddenly imminent eruption.

The hand stopped, but wasn't removed.  Instead, she gave a firm pinch
at the base that stifled his climax.  "Thank you, Mistress," he managed
to gasp out.

The blond dominatrix signaled to Betina, who smiled, nodded and left
the room.  She then reached down, and unsnapped the bra and the crotch
of her catsuit.  "It's time, little man," she said in a smoky voice,
"For you to give me what I've earned."

Before Victor quite knew what was happening, she straddled him, and
took his erection into her in one slow movement.  Davis was stunned!
"Dammit, I safeworded!  You're supposed to let me go -stop everything! 
I will report you to Solange! The police!"

Arching her back, the blonde put one gloved finger to his lips.  "You
safeworded because you were about to orgasm without your wife, correct?
Answer yes or no."

"YES, DAMN Yooiuuuummph!" he was cut off by a firm palm across his
lips.

"I said, yes or no, you naughty boy.  Well, the reason I'm not honoring
your safeword, is because," she reached up her free hand to sweep away
the mask and blond wig, "I'm your wife!"

Davis found himself being tightly embraced and thoroughly kissed.
"Linda?" he managed to choke out around the tongue invading his mouth.

The petite brunette sat up, gave a quick hip shimmy to seat him more
thoroughly in her womanly core, and sighed happily, "That's Mistress
Linda to you, slave boy."

"How - why...I don't understand..." 

"Shhhh," Linda purred as she began to ride him slowly.  "I followed you
once and Solange saw me.  We'll talk - LATER!  Now, do I have to gag
you, slave boy, or are you going to shut up and fuck me?!?!?"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 19: All's Well That Ends Well
By Tigger c2008


"She... she didn't honor his safeword," ShaJuana choked out as Tina
turned off the monitor.  "Solange'll.."

"Solange set it up, Tall Booty," Tina said, returning to her newly
favorite pastime of finding every one of the ebony beauty's erogenous
zones.  "Linda wasn't completely convinced that Victor wasn't really
cheating on her sexually, and Victor didn't know how to tell Linda what
he really wanted from her as his Mistress."

"What if he'd won?  Oh, shit, right THERE!"

"That's why it was two against one in that contest, and why Solange let
Harris win the previous one - so Victor would believe he could win."

"You STILL cheated me - DAMMIT, I...  CUMMING... right THERE...  NO
don't STOP!"

Tina stood back and watched the powerful muscles of Juana's body flex
and stretch, watched her try to find something that gave her that last
bit of friction she needed.  But it wasn't there.  "God, you're
gorgeous," Tina whispered.

"I'm freakin' HORNY, dammit!  You cheated to get me here, the LEAST you
can do is HELP ME, bitch!"

"I didn't cheat, Tall Booty.  If you'd caught me, I'd have played fair.
I just had a little more time to think about how to win than the other
players.  I told Solange that I'd try to win, but if not, I was yours. 
I won." Tina leaned in a pressed a soft kiss to Juana's frustrated
frown.  "You are MINE!"

"DAMMIT, Tina, OKAY! Now DO something, DAMMIT!"

Instead, Tina went back to her throne, sat down and crossed her legs.
"Well, that's the point, darling, because we have to decide what we're
going to do.  I'm gonna give you a choice."

~--~

"AND DON'T even THINK about coming back!" a furious Mistress costumed
as a very sexy Marine drill sergeant snapped, before slamming the door
of the ladies restroom in Walter's face.

He'd tried the men's room, and had thought, maybe in the Mistress' rest
room, but still hadn't found the place to obey the order to go soak his
head.  He'd almost gone down to the foyer, knowing there was a restroom
there, but Emerald had told him his prize would be in the ballroom.

Now that he thought about it, the bathrooms on this floor weren't 'in
the ballroom' either.  It was 11:50 PM when he made his way into the
ballroom and saw IT!

There, off to one corner, was a line of Mistresses, their submissive
boy-toys in tow, awaiting their turn at some of the 'party games'.  All
the favorites were there - 'Pin the Tail in the Subbie' where
blindfolded Dominas tried to put a tail on their submissive using a
buttplug instead of a pin.  There was a wild game of 'Push the peanut'
where ballgagged submissives with hands bound behind their backs pushed
peanuts to the finish line with their noses.

And there was 'Dunking for Apples.'

Halloween, Evans thought!  "Soak your head," Solange had said.
Quickly, he jumped in line, hoping there was enough time left for him
to get a turn and still make the midnight deadline.

"The slave of La Maitresse has head of the line privileges," the
Mistress in charge announced.

With two minutes to spare, Walter Evans was on his knees, presenting
the Golden Dildo - still dripping - to La Maitresse Solange.

"Oh, you wonderful brave slave boy!" she cheered, as she accepted his
quest prize.  "You did it! YOU WON!"  Then, Walter was shocked beyond
words when the usually reserved dominatrix jumped him -right there on
the dais - IN PUBLIC - and kissed him senseless.

~--~

"A choice?" Juana asked, suspiciously.  She was a Domme.  She knew ALL
about the kinds of 'choices' subs in her current position were offered
by their tops.  Like being put between a rock and a hard place and then
having the rock dropped on your head.  Juana saw the fine dominant hand
of Solange in this and didn't trust EITHER of them as far as her
currently bound hands could throw them.  "What kind of choice, and be
real specific with all the deets!"

Tina shook her head and laughed.  "Oh, you'll like both options, don't
worry.  First choice is you stay there, all tied up, but get to cum -
over and over again until I can't make you cum any more.  I've always
wanted to drive a woman into sexual oblivion, and I will unless you
safeword, or..."

"Or what, little girl?"

"Or, you take the other choice.  Which is, I get to make love to you
until I can't go anymore or until you safeword."

Juana's head snapped to where she knew the surveillance camera was
hidden.  "But what about the audience?" she asked, knowing that Tina's
true gender was not yet common knowledge outside of the dungeon's staff
members, and that Solange wanted it kept that way for now.

"Equipment malfunction," Tina grinned.  "The guests have been told that
only the dungeon masters can see the feeds off those cameras until we
get them fixed - after the party.  They didn't see Victor try to
safeword his wife, either."

"Well, shit, Tina-Ty-RONE!  Take me to bed, STUD!  And we'll just SEE
which one of us needs any stinkin' safeword!"

~--~

At two in the morning, Solange slipped into the prep room where Victor
Davis was helping his wife out of her costume.  "Everything all right
here?" she asked, already knowing the answer from the well-pleasured
glow in her eyes, and the awed worship in his.

"We're just fine," Linda answered first, "Aren't we, darling?"

"Yes, Ma'am, we are." He turned to Solange from unlacing Linda's
corset.  "I understand we have you to thank for setting me... THIS up?"

Solange shrugged.  "You are a lovely man, Victor, a beautiful
submissive who longs to serve openly the woman he loves.  You've hidden
your service to her in the past, and then had to come to us when you
deemed yourself deserving of punishment for not serving well enough.  I
know something of how hard that can be on a strong man such as
yourself.  Now, you can be open about your need to serve and worship
her as your Mistress.  Perhaps Linda will still want us to handle your
discipline, which we will do quite happily, or we can help her learn
how to do at least some of it herself."

"Oh, I want to learn," Linda purred, stroking her hand lovingly down
her husband's cheek.  "On him.  I want to be the only woman to whom
this man kneels."

"That can be arranged.  Give me a call next week and we'll discuss some
plans.  Are you all right with that, Victor?"

"I am," he said quietly, "But I think I'd like to be involved in the
planning, too.  I know sometimes these things are done without the
sub's knowledge?  To heighten the effect?  I don't think I'm ready for
that.  This is too new, and I feel, well, kind of  fragile.  It feels
wonderful, but..."

Solange nodded.  "I know what you mean.  You want to add to your
relationship, not detract from it.  We'll go slowly."  She went over
and kissed each of them.  "Thanks for coming.  One of the servants will
escort you to your car when you're ready to leave.  Just push the call-
button."

~-~

Solange was tired after her gentle 'reward' session with Walter, but it
was a good tired.  This had been a very good party and a better night. 
Once the tension of the quest had been lifted, Walter had realized just
how excited he'd been by the experience.  He'd climaxed almost
immediately just from her hand-spanking him.  The session had gone a
little longer than that, because Solange had needed to know he was
truly all right after his public play debut.  

He'd been fine - thank heavens - and had left with his mind awhirl with
possibilities for the special scene he'd earned as a challenge scene
winner.  

She, on the other hand, was winding down and very ready for her bed.
She just needed to make sure her guests were all safely on their way
and that the premises were secure before heading for her own home.
Inside the surveillance room she saw that all the monitors dark and her
two friends who'd served as dungeon masters were gathering their things
to leave.  "Everybody gone?" she asked, as she strolled over to cuddle
down into the lap of the room's third occupant.

"Everyone except ShaJuana and that cute little girlie-boy Mistress of
yours.  They were still going at it hot and heavy last time we checked,
but it was purely vanilla - well," the grandmotherly woman chuckled,
"Chocolate and vanilla, anyway, so we didn't figure we needed to watch
all that close.  Your Tina gave Juana the choice of being teased into
an orgasmic coma or making love.  They are making love and have been
for almost three hours!"

"Matchmaking again, Solange?" the other woman in the room asked,
casting a knowing smile at her friend.

"And if I am?" The arch tone of her reply was spoiled somewhat by the
broad smile that Solange could not quite keep off her face.

Her friend grinned back broadly at her longtime confidante.  "Hope it
works out for them as well as it did for me and my baby-doll.  He sends
you his best, by the way.  Although, he was a little disappointed when
I agreed to DM for you because he loves your parties."

"He could have come.  I'd have seen that he was suitably entertained."

"Naw.  He won't play with anyone else these days unless I'm part of the
scene - and I kinda like it that way.  I only make him go to parties
where he doesn't get to play as a punishment now."

"Nice," Solange agreed.  "Well, if you're ready to leave, I have two
slaves on call who will carry your things for you and give you safe
escort to your cars."

After the two women had left, Solange was unable to resist the
temptation to use her equipment to 'peak' in on ShaJuana and Tina.  One
look told her that it was ShaJuana and Tyrone at this point as none of
Tina's feminine finery was anywhere in evidence.  A second look told
her that Ty was doing a fine job of 'having his way with her', for
Juana's hands were digging deeply into his hair, holding his head to
her sex, while her flawless, ebony body bowed up into his face.

Solange quickly powered the system back down, fanning her face with her
hand.  Well, she thought as she smiled hungrily into the face of her
bound and gagged husband, maybe she wasn't QUITE as ready for sleep as
she'd initially thought.  With practiced flicks of her fingers, she
freed her lover from the bondage stool onto which she'd installed him a
few hours earlier, and then undid his gag.  Standing, she quickly
straddled him, wrapped her arms about his powerful shoulders and kissed
him deeply.  His arms came up to hold her close, thrilling her yet
again with the sheer power he always willingly ceded to her.  "I
think," she purred as she squirmed against his chastised erection,
"that you should plan on being very, very busy when we get home,
slave."

It was, after all, a night worth celebrating!

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 20: A Glorious Morning Have We Seen
By Tigger c2008


Something was 'not right,' Juana thought, her mind still muzzy with
sleep.  Maybe it was just too early to get up - being awake when you
should be sleeping was about as 'not right' as things were allowed to
get in ShaJuana Price's highly ordered world.  Cautiously, she peaked
open one eye to look at her alarm clock.  Things went from 'not right'
to dead-wrong in half a heartbeat!

First, her clock was not where it was supposed to be, and second, there
was a softly snoring man-lump behind her in her bed...

Make that three things, she realized as her brain finally started to
catch up - this was not HER bed, nor was it her room.  How the hell...

And then it all came flooding back to her.  That damned party and
Solange's setting her up so Ty - make that Tina - would beat her in
that also-damned Hall of Horrors thing.  

Damn! Why wasn't she totally pissed off about that?  She hoped she
wasn't getting mellow...

Oh, yeah, she thought as she rolled over in the bed - hours of having
yourself loved blind and brainless did things like that to a woman.  

She went instantly still as she played back that thought.  She'd used
the "L" word, not the "F" word, and she'd meant it.  Aw hell, now she'd
gone and done it, she thought.  She'd fallen in love with Tyrone Evans!
She was at once deliriously happy and utterly terrified.  She didn't
know how to be in love, dammit.  Being 'in-LOVE!!' was a girly thing -
like pink underwear, for god's sake.  What did a towering she-hulk like
her know about being in love and all that happily ever after stuff??!  

She tried to imagine herself as his woman - her brain wouldn't let
herself use the other "w" word.  She couldn't even manage that
imagery!.  Not unless Donna Reed grew half a foot, wore six inch
stiletto platforms, a latex house dress and a leather apron! She wasn't
made to be the 'little woman', dammit!

"Hey," a soft voice behind her called, "You're thinking awfully loud
for so early in the morning." She shivered as Ty pressed a kiss to the
base of her neck and pulled her body back closer to his own, spoon-
fashion.

She could feel the strength of him when he did that - she often forgot
just how strong he was because of their relative sizes - and then he
kissed her again.  "What's up, Juana?  You've gone all tense."

The gentleness of his tone and question undid her as nothing else would
have, and she was crying before she could do anything to hold back the
tears.  She wanted to curl up into the fetal position and hide until
she got over it, but Ty was having none of it.  Using that strength
again, he had her rolled over, facing him and wrapped up tight in his
arms before she quite knew what was happening.  "Hey, hey, what's the
matter, baby?  Did I hurt you?"

"No, dammit, you didn't hurt me!" she snapped, angry at him because she
was angry at herself for crying.  And it was HIS damn fault, too!  

"Then, why?" he asked, worried.

"Because you loved me, you jackass! Just like I was a real girl!"

"HUH?!?"  His oh-so-male one-word answer infuriated her so much she
punched him - which hurt him - so she did it again.  She was winding up
for a third when he bear-hugged her so she couldn't get another clean
shot at him.  "That hurts, you little witch - cut it out!"

"I'm not a little anything, you... you..." she was struggling now,
trying to get out of his arms - trying to get away before she truly
humiliated herself.

Ty was having none of it, and rolled her to her back so he was on top,
looking down into her eyes.  Here there be dragons, he thought.
"Juana-love?  You are a real girl - as real as it gets, okay?  As real
as it will ever get for me.  You're my girl."

She stopped struggling, but the tears continued to stream down her
cheeks.  "How can I be your girl, Ty?  I'm a bitch-domme, for heavens
sake - a sex-worker.  I freakin' tower over you.  And... And... and I'm
black!"

He didn't answer right away, just kept looking down at her.  Finally he
smiled.  "You done?" he asked, and then continued before she could
answer, "Because if you are, we're home free.  One - you're black and
absolutely gorgeous inside and out.  I can't imagine my girl being any
other way.  Two - your height.  I'm not in the least intimidated by
that, and in fact, find it both attractive and exciting.  I can't
imagine my girl being any other way.  As for your profession, what you
are is an actress and artist who uses your God-given acting ability,
your empathy and your compassion to help people.  Yeah, sex is
involved, but not in anyway that bothers me.  News-flash, Juana, I'm
sorta in the same line of work just now!"

She swallowed hard, looking up into his eyes.  It was still dark in the
room, but there was enough light for her to see them.  "You say that
now..." 

"And I'll say it tomorrow, and tomorrow, and every tomorrow after
that," he told her.  "Like you yourself told me - you don't ordinarily
even touch the guys on their, um, male parts," he paused, reflectively
before continuing, "Well, you certainly touched mine during our two
scenes..." Juana mumbled something.  "Hmm?  You say something?"

Embarrassed, and certain she was blushing furiously, Juana tried to
look away from his face, only to have a gentle hand cup her chin and
turn her back to him.  She sighed.  "I said, that was just with you.  I
might strap one on and take a guy up the ass during a session, but he
does the jerking off.  Solange gets pissed if we do too much of that,
so I try to do none."

"See?  As long as I'm special that way, I don't mind your work.  Hell,
I'm starting to think some of it is sexy! Especially your costumes!"

"Perv," she muttered, fighting back the elation she felt bubbling up
inside her.

"And whose fault is THAT?" he asked, grinning.

"Natural talent, asshole," she answered, then went still again.  Ty
cocked an eyebrow at her.  "I can't be Donna Reed, Ty, not even for
you," she managed to choke out.

And was instantly furious again when he started laughing so hard he
lost his hold on her.  She rolled on top of him, pummeling him again
until he caught a wrist in each hand.  "Thank GOD for that, Tall-booty!
I grew up with Donna - she's my Mom!  I don't want to be my Dad, and I
sure as hell don't want a girl just like the girl who married dear old
Dad, either.  That's not me!"

She was mollified with that.  "So, if you're not going to do fuel
injectors in West Podunk, what are you going to do?"

Ty released her hands, and pulled her to him.  Finally, she relaxed and
laid her head on his shoulder, liking how they fit together that way.
"I'm not sure, but it will have something to do with the theater.  I've
still got the business degree, so I might be able to get something in
management, but I'm working on something else just now, too."

"Gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to put you over that spankin' bench
and torture it out of you?"

"I've been accepted at the Actors Studio Drama School," he told her,
"In the director's program.  In my time here, I've helped orchestrate
any number of scenes for the ladies - you know, staging, planning,
costuming - that kind of thing?  I like it, and they all said I was
good at it, too.  And I thought, 'Hey, this is a way I can still be
involved with the theater creatively.'"

"When do you start?"

"After New Years, if I can work out the finances.  I won't ask Dad for
help - not for this."

Understanding dawned.  "That's why you wanted to do the on-call TV
slave thing?  You wanted the money?"

He nodded.  "But that's not going to work."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because there's only one woman I'm giving that part of me, and I won't
'sell it', not even for that."  He was suddenly being strangled, kissed
and cried on, all at once.  "DAMMIT, Juana, I can't BREATHE!" he
yelped, and took in a couple of deep breaths when the grip eased.

"Thank you," she said softly, and then pressed on before the tears
started again.  "So, what are you going to do?"

"Keep working here, doing the odd scene as I have been doing, and
working more with Solange in the planning and business end of the
dungeon.  Using that damned business degree."

"No shit?"

"No shit," he affirmed.  

"Like how?"

 He grinned up at her smugly.  "Like, did you know, that we don't have
a health care plan here for the ladies and other staff?"

She looked at him as if he'd grown three heads.  "Health Care?  For
cripes sake, white boy, this is a freakin' DUNGEON!"

"And your point is?  Did you know that Solange has a city-issued
business license for this place?  I forget what the technical term she
used to describe it in the paperwork, but the whole thing is legal and
above board.  She even pays taxes.  I think she currently gets the
girls health care at reduced prices by exchanging services with a
couple of doctors, but that doesn't help with things like hospital care
and prescriptions."

"Health insurance in a dungeon?" she said, wonderingly.  "What's next? 
Retirement plans?"

"I am looking into tax sheltered annuity plans," he told her seriously,
and then smiled as she dissolved into giggles.  He stopped those by
taking possession of her mouth, kissing her with a sweet thoroughness
that thrilled her.  "Better?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she growled, her juices bubbling.  "JUST fine, now, cutey."

Ty felt her hand reach down, find him, stroke him and then her mouth
took his.  "Get ready to be had, little man, MY way!"

Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded on the door.  "HEY, you two!" Solange's
voice called from the other side.  "I've got paying clients coming in
to use this room today, and I'm sure it needs a thorough cleaning!"

"Go away, Solange!" Ty yelled, reaching up to grip Juana's hips.  "Come
back in twenty minutes or so!"

"An hour!" Juana retorted loudly as she settled herself around him, "At
least an hour!"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: Bad Angel Fire Her Good One Out


Solange offered Tyrone the steaming cup of tea she'd just poured and
prepared with all the grace and ceremony of a Regency duchess.
Accepting it, he grinned.  "Now I know how Tina should have served you
and Juana in that first scene of ours."

Bowing her head with regal acceptance, she replied,"One should always
handle the social niceties, such a serving tea,  properly, and with due
respect and solemnity," and then grinned.  "Besides, this tea is hot so
I have to handle it carefully."

Accepting the offer of a cookie, Ty set his cup and plate down so that
he could pick up his journal.  "I was a little surprised we didn't put
off this week's reflective meeting," he told her as he paged through
the notebook, "I mean, I didn't do any learning sessions this week."

Taking a sip from her own tea, Solange shook her head.  "No, you
didn't.  You had something that could have been far more challenging to
you," she averred.  "You had the opportunity to dominate the woman you
love for the very first time.  You can passively accept the dominance
of another when you bottom, but topping is active - something you have
to initiate and take responsibility for the outcomes.  I wanted to make
sure that you didn't have any... lingering issues about your role in
that scene with ShaJuana."

Once again, Ty surprised and pleased the experienced Mistress by not
giving the typical knee-jerk male response of "No problem!" She let him
mull over the question without further input from her, interested in
what he might come up with in response.

Finally, he put the journal down and picked up his teacup.  "You know,
I wish I'd thought to journal that, but I didn't - mostly because I
just felt so good about the whole thing afterwards.  Kind of a super-
afterglow."

"No negative feelings about 'forcing her against her will' or 'taking
away her freedom of choice?'  You are okay with that?"

"More than okay," he replied, reflectively.  "Because basically, I
didn't and wouldn't have.  You might as well know that if she'd
safeworded?  No one but the two of us would have known, unless she
told.  As far as I was concerned, we could have spent the rest of the
night eating snacks and watching the tube."

"So, you would have lied to me?" she asked, a finely formed brow
arching in her query.

"Yup.  And I would have lied about the victory scene, too, if that
bothered her.  Or maybe I'll request something I know she'll like doing
as the domme."

"Is that what you want?  I said you could have any scene you want."

"You had it right to begin with, Solange.  She's the woman I love -
she's the woman I want."

"And you're concerned that ShaJuana might have issues with you wanting
to top her, or with you voluntarily playing with someone else?"

Ty considered that question, and then shrugged.  "Dunno.  I think...
no, I KNOW that she enjoyed what we did together after the Halloween
party, but that really wasn't too stressful on her ego once I released
her from the bondage."

"Being loved - truly loved - is rarely stressful for a woman," Solange
observed drily.

"Glad to hear that, 'cause I sure hoped that would be the case," Ty
grinned.  "But we haven't talked about it much beyond some morning-
after pillow talk, you know?  I'm just not sure where to go next with
her, but I feel these conflicting needs to go slow and do whatever it
takes to make her happy, and yet, on the other hand ..."

"You want to rope her, brand her and make her yours right now."

"Well, yeah," he said, blushing at the imagery invoked as much for the
knowing tone with which Solange delivered it.  "Figuratively, anyway.
I'm still not much into pain and marking things, though."

"Yes, I do see.  Perhaps, I need to talk to ShaJuana and see what I can
get out of her.  She's been hard to pin down, these past few days -
intentionally on her part, I think, because she wants to be annoyed
with me.  I'll give her a few more days to deal with that.  Good for
her to stew a bit more before I help her see figure things out."

"Thanks, Solange," Ty grinned sheepishly.  "Sometimes, I just don't
know what the rules are with her."

"You are a mere male, and therefore, if you did know the rules, we
women would be obligated to change them so you didn't.  I, however, am
a superior female and I do know the rules."  The pair shared a snort of
laughter at that.  "Let me deal with this and I will get back to you,"
Solange told him.  "Now, I have another topic I would like to discuss
if you still have some time."

"Sure! What's up?"

Solange held up her right index finger in a 'wait one' gesture as she
picked up her phone.  Punching in a quick number, she settled back into
her chair.  "It's me," she said into the receiver, a wicked twinkle in
her gray eyes, "Please present yourself in my office immediately."

She'd barely replaced the handset on its hook when a confused Ty heard
a polite three-knock rap on the office's door.  "Enter," Solange
ordered.  

The man who entered in response to that directive was tall, thick
through the shoulders and chest, and of middle years.  He was
impeccably dressed in a suit Ty was certain had not come off any
department store sales rack.  And, Ty thought, there was something
familiar about him  - Ty was certain that they'd met sometime in the
past, but where... ?

He quickly crossed to Solange where he took the hand she held languidly
up to him and pressed it to his lips.  "Darling," she said, a world of
affection in her voice.  Then she turned her attention back to Ty.
"Tyrone, I don't know if you will remember, but you have the
acquaintance of this gentleman," she said, confirming Ty's recognition.
"This is my husband, Roderick.  He is something of a venture capitalist
who specializes in helping to finance Broadway stage plays."

Ty went cold as he recalled precisely when he'd had the acquaintance of
this man.  "You were the producer who sat in during my audition for
that leading-man role opposite Roxie Hunter." he said, a hint of
accusation in his voice.

Still holding Solange's hand in his, the man turned to face Ty.  "Yes,
I was.  You did quite well in that audition as I recall."

Bitterness bubbled up from Ty's core.  "Not all that well, evidently! I
heard what you said afterwards!  I had to come back because I forgot
something.  You wouldn't even let the director consider me!"

"I didn't say you couldn't act, kid," the man snapped back, the temper
Ty recalled from the audition showing, "I said you couldn't sing for
shit and that you weren't tall enough for the damned part.  You read
just fine, but your body type was all wrong for that role!"

"Roddy," Solange said very quietly, steel in her tone.  "Language!"

"Sorry, Mistress," the man replied, visibly upset at his lapse of
control.  "My apologies to you, too, Mr. Edwards.  That's not why I'm
here.  Please excuse my outburst."

Taken aback by the both the formal address and the sincerity of the
apology, Ty nodded slowly.  "Accepted." he said, wondering why he was
here, and at Solange's direction.

Waitaminute, Ty thought, his eyes snapping back and forth between
Solange and her husband - did he just call her 'MISTRESS?'

Roderick withdrew a parchment envelope from his inside coat pocket and
handed it to Ty.  "This is why I'm here - to give this to you."

Ty broke the wax seal and withdrew a sheaf of papers from within.  The
letter on top carried the letterhead of Pace University.  "'Dear Mr.
Edwards,'" Ty began to read, "'The Actor's Studio Program is pleased to
award you the inaugural Jasmine Solange Devereaux Scholarship for
select students in the Actors Studio Master of Fine Arts program...'"
Bewildered, he looked up and repeated, "Jasmine Solange Devereaux?"

Solange smiled gently.  "That's my full name, Tyrone.  Roddy created
the endowment in my name as a gift to me."

Ty considered that, and then glared at the man.  "And you gave me this
scholarship because your Mistress ordered you to?" he accused.

"Hell no!" Roderick thundered back only to be pulled up short by a
warning tug on his hand from Solange.  "Your pardon, Mistress.  No, Mr.
Edwards, you got it because you are talented!  Look, you're never going
to be more than a bit player on Broadway, okay?  You wanna keep playing
the mobsters in "Kiss Me, Kate" or maybe Bottom in "A Mid-Summer Nights
Dream?"  Fine, but you're not going to be Petruchio or Oberon because
you're not tall enough.  When Mistress Jazz told me you were thinking
of being a director, I said - and I'll say it again now, that you could
be pretty good - the best directors are really good actors, in my
opinion.  Okay, you also know Mistress and she likes you - that got you
looked at by me first and then by the guys I hired to run her
foundation."

"Looked at?  Looked at how?" Ty asked.  "I've never done any directing
that was recorded in any way."

"Solange said you organized this year's Halloween Party - set
everything up for her.  I was there and saw how well it went." Ty saw
an intimate look flash between Solange and her husband at that
revelation and blushed at the emotional intensity between them.  

"The way you orchestrated that party was as good an example of what
directing is all about as anything I've seen.  You set and dressed the
stage.  You had the right pace.  You established the right balance
between the script and the talents of your actors.  Jasmine has also
let me review some of the other scenes you've directed for her here,
and I've talked to some of the players who were involved in them.  They
confirm your ability to set the scene and get the desired results.  You
won because you're deserving.  I don't give free rides in the theater,
kid.  You only get what you earn and what your talent rates.  Got
that?"

Ty glanced at Solange for a moment and saw the pleased smile she gave
her husband.  He swallowed and then stood, offering his hand to
Solange's husband.  "Got it," he said roughly.  "And thanks."

Surprisingly, the rough-tempered man blushed and accepted the offered
hand almost bashfully.  "You're good," he repeated, "And Mistress says
you bust your ass to get better.  Break a leg, okay?"

Shaking his hand hard, Ty grinned broadly.  "Okay! And thanks, both of
you!"

"You are welcome," Solange answered, and then looked to her husband.
"You may run along now, dear.  I will see you at home."

"Yes, Mistress," he said, kissing the hand again.  "See you around,
Edwards," and then he left without another word.

"Wow," Ty breathed, even as the door closed behind Solange's departing
husband.  "He's your slav... I mean, he's submissive to you... Oh hell,
I'm sorry.  That's none of my business."

"It's common knowledge among the staff here at the dungeon that I have
a lifestyle relationship with Roderick that often has him submitting to
me in the physical and personal aspects of our lives together as man
and wife.  However, you need to understand that his submission has
absolutely no bearing on the conduct of his professional affairs.  I
asked him to consider endowing the scholarship and I asked him to see
that you were given a fair opportunity to win that scholarship.  That's
all.  You won that on your own merit and on his professional opinion of
you as another theater professional."

Ty blushed at her directness, but nodded.  "Thanks, Solange.  I
appreciate that."

"Are you going to be foolish or are you going to accept that
scholarship?" and it was La Maitresse who demanded an answer.

"Juana would have my ass if I even tried to turn something like that
down."

"And she'd be right.  I'm glad the two of you are a team now.  You are
a very lucky young man."

"I know.  For what it's worth?  And remember, until ten minutes ago, I
still blamed your husband for not giving me what I considered to be a
fair shake?  I think your Roderick is a very lucky man, too."

Solange's smile was feline-smug as she accepted the implied compliment.
"Yes, he is - almost as lucky as I am to have him.  I'm glad to hear,
however, that you see there might have been some justification for his
opinion, regardless of how... callously he might have expressed it when
he thought he was in private conference."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 21: Maitresse Familias Interfering
By Tigger c2008


Fifteen minutes should be just right, Solange thought as she opened
Prep Room 3's door and peeked her head around through the opening.  

And she'd been right.  ShaJuana had yet to begin getting out of costume
after her just-completed session.  Instead, she was staring vaguely
into her mirror with her chin resting in one hand, a little half smile
curving her full mouth and a cold-cream moistened cotton-ball loosely
held in her free hand.  If it were not for the thigh-high, spike-heeled
pirate boots, skin-tight black leather catsuit and the whip dangling
from her waist, she looked like a teenage girl daydreaming of prom
night.

Perfect.  

"Excuse me, Juana," she called out into the quiet room, "Got a minute
to talk to your boss?"

The tall beauty nearly jumped out of her chair in surprise.  "Solange?"
she squeaked as she tried to catch the breath she'd just lost.  She
made an admirable effort at regaining her composure and Solange had to
give her credit for almost managing it.

Almost.  

"Got a minute?" she asked, purposefully repeating her question.  

"Ummm, uh, sure," Juana stammered before swallowing hard and trying to
blank her face of any emotion.  "What do you need, Solange?"

 "Just wanted to talk for a minute.  Nice scene, by the way.  You just
about terrorized that poor guy."

"Huh?" Juana stumbled, taken off balance by the unexpected direction of
the comment.  "That scene?  Why would that scare him?  He's the one who
set the whole thing up.  We do almost the same exact shtick every time
he comes in for a session with me.  I wish I COULD terrorize him
because he's getting too freakin' comfortable that I won't play outside
the tight little box he's built around us with all his damned limits!
I know we're not here for our own pleasure, but that little snot gets
off on topping from the bottom because he's paying the bill.  Some days
I just wanna choke 'im!"

"You know I draw the line at breath-control play, but you can certainly
dump him if he's that much of a problem for you.  You know I'll back
you up, too.  You deserve your due as his Domme and if he's not giving
his fair share to make the scene work for you both, he can find another
dungeon.  And you already do well enough financially from your other
clients that you don't have to put up with 'snots'."

"I know," Juana sighed, her shoulders drooping a bit.  "It's just that,
outside of that crap, I like him, and, well, I think he really needs
what he gets from me.  Doc referred him, you know," she said, referring
to one of Solange's long-time clients who was also a physician.
"Stress and stuff.  He's better now, I think."

"Well, I think you scared him enough that he might be a little more
amenable to providing you with your Dommely prerogatives from now on.
Having a whip-toting Mistress grinning that broadly while she ties his
dick and balls into bowknots tends to get even an asshole's attention. 
Since you USUALLY sneer during your scenes, having that dopey grin on
your face the whole session must have been rather daunting.  He was
dressed and gone in under five minutes."

"Really?" Juana said softly, her own smile returning.  "Well, then I'll
just have to see about how much we can stretch that box of his next
time.  Thanks for the tip.  Umm, is that all you wanted?"

The older woman's face became stern as she shook her head, "No.  You've
been avoiding me," Solange told her younger protegee, "And I thought it
was about time we stopped dancing around each other.  Hell, Juana, it's
been over a WEEK!"

Juana's dark brown eyes flashed and her lips thinned "You set me up!
Tina wouldn't have beaten me if you hadn't stacked the deck in her
favor!"

Well, Solange mused, at least it's out in the air between us now.  "His
favor," she corrected.  "As I recall, it was Ty, not Tina, who strutted
out of that room with you on his arm the morning -or was it the
afternoon? - after the party."

"Ty - Tina, what difference does THAT make!?!  It should have been ME
doing the dominatin' that night, NOT her... HIM!"

"And he just defiled you, did he?  Ignored your safe-word and violated
your trust by whipping, I mean, fucking you 'til you couldn't stand?"
Solange's eyes were wide with insincerity, "I'm SO sorry we weren't
more sympathetic and less envious about your terrible ordeal! Why, I'll
just fire his sorry ass for you! How about THAT?"

The ebony beauty spun back around to her mirror, her arms crossed in
temper.  "You know he didn't do anything of the kind!" she pouted.
"And it was a wonderful night, and you damn well know THAT, too.  It
just wasn't how I dreamed - I mean - THOUGHT it would be with him."

"Does it have to be the way you dreamed it would be for the reality to
be good?" Solange asked softly.  "Can't it be different and still be
good?  Maybe even better?"

She watched Juana's head nod even as she started to answer, only to
stop, and settle back into the chair, a pensive pout on her lovely
face.  Finally, she sighed.  "I guess I've just never seen myself as
the sub in something like this, Solange."

"Sub?  You were no more subbing to Ty that night than Tina is subbing
to Artemis right now!"

"ARTEMIS?" Juana growled, spinning back to glare at the dungeon owner,
"and my... I mean, AND TINA??!  I mean, TY?!?"

"And YOUR Ty," Solange agreed, not bothering to hide her grin.
"Although he's not pushing for a job as our on-staff male or TV slave
anymore, I still want him to experience a broad variety of play scenes.
I could tell that he was somewhat ... disconcerted by the pony-boy at
the party, so I decided he might benefit from this experience.  Artemis
is our best pony-trainer and who knows?  We might have a client who
wants to be part of a pony-pair at some point, and I thought Tina would
be a lovely pony.  Don't scowl, Juana," Solange teased with a smile, "I
monitor all of his training sessions and he seems to be doing fine."

"He comes out of there with any welts that last and I'll fix her sorry
ass for her!" Juana hissed.

Somehow, Solange's grin grew even wider before she managed to stifle
it.  "Oh, don't worry.  He's already caution-worded her once because he
really does not like the whip, and I'm sure he'll stoplight her if she
gets too rambunctious.  Which she won't because she is a pro."

"Oh, I know," the younger woman sighed, as she finally began to cream
away the vivid makeup she used when working one of her clients.  "I'm
sorry about dodging you, but I've had a lot on my mind."

"A woman in love usually does," Solange observed softly.  "Given the
circumstances of your rather unusual courtship, I suspect those things
on your mind aren't things you would want to talk about with your
Mother.  I just wanted you to know that if - no, make that WHEN you
need to talk about such things, you have only to call me." With that,
the older woman turned to leave the room.

"No, DON'T leave!" Juana snapped out, before adding, "Please?  I...I
think I'd like to talk.  Hell, I need to talk - with you especially."

Solange closed the door she'd never left, and came over to take the
room's other vanity stool.  "So," she said, leaning in close and
dropping her voice suggestively, "Give me the dish, sister.  I know
he's hung, but is he any good?"

For several seconds, Juana could only stare at her older friend, her
eyes wide and her mouth open.  Then, she began to giggle before finally
managing to get out, "The BEST!"

"Oh, really," Solange purred out the word, "DO tell, and don't worry
about being too detailed."

"I thought he was going to kill me with pleasure," Juana whispered,
sharing the secret she'd been holding so close for more than a week.
"It was like he was trying to eat me alive!  I don't know which is
better, his tongue or his dick, but either would make him the best I've
ever had, and he gives both without demanding anything in return.  I
felt like my pleasure was the single most important thing in his life. 
I've never felt so... so cherished."

"Cherished is good," Solange agreed, waving her palm to fan her face.
"Very good, in fact!  What else!?  Let's have those deets, girl!"

The black woman blushed now, and leaned even closer.  "He told me I was
his girl!"

"Well, duh!" Solange laughed.

"No, really!  He said I was black, gorgeous, tall and a Domme, and he
couldn't imagine HIS girl being any other way."

Solange heard the uncertainty creeping into the lovely girl's voice and
pounced.  "That's great!  I think he's just perfect for you, too!"

"But, am I really perfect for him?" Juana asked, her voice now very
small and very young.  "I like being a Domme - I like working here at
the dungeon.  I don't want to quit because... Look, Solange, I'm good
at this stuff, and dammit, I help people here doing it, too!  Like that
guy who just left.  I'm GOOD for him and HE NEEDS ME!"

"And your point is?" Solange asked.  Juana started to answer, then
stopped, her teeth worrying at her lower lip.  "ShaJuana?  Obviously
this has something to do with Ty.  Is there a problem with you
continuing here and being with him?"

"He says his Mom is Donna Reed!" she blurted out.  "How can he take a
six-foot tall, black bitch-goddess home to Mother when she's freakin'
DONNA REED!?"

Relief coursed through the older woman.  This could be handled, she
thought.  "Quite easily, I'd say," Solange retorted matter of factly.
At Juana's look of abject disbelief, she simply laughed.  "Hell, Juana,
you don't have to stroll in there decked out in your corset, fishnets
and stilettos, brandishing a riding crop and a strap-on! You, better
than anyone else here, know that clothes DO make the man, TV or in your
case, the woman.  It's that hard first look you have to get past! Dress
the part correctly and she'll get over the shock of having you tall and
yes, black, when she sees how much Ty adores you and you adore him.  If
she's worth knowing at all, that is."

"Ya think?"

"I'm sure!  Look at how flexible and open Ty is and I bet you see the
mother in that.  She may be Donna Reed, but I'll bet my best flogger
she's the one he takes after in that household.  His dad is some kind
of hard line, addicted-to-his-business junkie and I just don't see that
in Ty at all, for all he's got some great ideas for my business."

"Like health insurance?"

"Yes, indeed.  He's just about got it set up, too.  I never even
thought of such a thing.  I did, however, shoot down his idea for on-
site daycare, so he's off looking at other solutions.  The thought of
four-year-olds running hay-go-mad through the Torquemada Room..."
Solange shuddered, then grinned.  "So, what had you walking a foot off
the ground all morning?  In my experience, the only thing that does
THAT to a woman's mood is a man being unusually sweet and romantic."

The taller girl's soft, secret little smile blossomed once more, and
then she pointed to a brightly colored box on her dressing table.  "He
gave me a present this morning," Juana confided softly.  "Pretty
lingerie - all in pink!"

"Nice stuff?"

"God, Solange, they're so pretty I want to dance in them - just for
him."

"Well, you were the one who wanted to teach him how to dress like a
woman.  Guess he's putting that knowledge to good use.  So, when are
you going to reel him in?"

"Umm, I, ah, think I'm gonna sort of go with the flow on this -at least
for a while," Juana said, turning back to the mirror as if she could
avoid the question by turning away.  "I don't want to push and mess it
up.  It's all so ... much at once."

"I see," Solange replied softly, and then rose to her feet.  She bent
over to kiss her young friend on the cheek.  "Call me when you need to
talk some more, dear.  You'll figure this all out if you just give
yourself and Ty the chance."  

Leaving the room, Solange quietly closed the door behind her, and then
strode down the corridor shaking  her head.  "Okay," she said quietly,
"That does it! To hell with trying to be subtle!"

~-~


Acting Dominant
Interlude: Tangled Webs of La Maitresse


"This is excellent work, Ty," Solange said as she signed the last of
the documents he'd prepared for her approval.  "Now, I want to pick up
the cost of the policy for my ladies and other staff, along with any of
their dependent children.  If those employees want to include coverage
for their mates or significant others, they will need to pay the
additional costs out of their own pockets."

"Since you pay them weekly we could offer them a payroll deduction plan
to cover that.  We'd get them to sign an agreement and then the payroll
company will just handle it - just like their income tax withholdings."

"Perfect! I will leave all those pesky little details in your capable
hands."  Solange collected all the papers she'd just signed and then
pointedly set them to one side before pinning Ty with her eyes.  "Now,
let's talk about your scene with Artemis."

"Wheee-heee-heee," Ty whinnied, causing both of them to laugh.  

"Artemis came to see me this morning.  She was disappointed in the
scene dynamic between the two of you."  Ty raised a quizzical brow at
Solange, but said nothing.  He was getting a little too good at dealing
with her usual tricks and was much more difficult to draw out these
days, she mused.  Well, might as well be blunt.  "She was annoyed
because she couldn't seem to arouse you."

"Huh?" Ty replied, obviously confused.

"You didn't get a real hard-on the entire scene," Solange said,
grinning.  "Artemis is about a nine and a half on the ten-point babe-
scale.  It's a matter of personal pride to her that she always gets her
boy-toys rock-hard and dripping in the first five minutes of her
scenes.  That way, she can exploit their arousal to seduce them into
letting her take a few more liberties in her scene-play than they might
otherwise prefer if they were thinking with their brains instead of
their cocks.  I watched most of her scene with you and I don't think
you ever got much above half-way interested.  Worse, you were pretty
much limp by the time she called a halt to your session, and it wasn't
because you'd climaxed, either.  She took that as something of a
personal failure."

"I wasn't trying to upset her, Solange.  I agree she's pretty hot-
looking, but I guess I was concentrating too hard on not falling on my
face in those pony-shoes she locked on me to get too worked up
sexually!  Particularly with her constantly nagging at me about all
that bloody high-stepping and keeping my head up."

"And then," Solange added, "You compounded your transgressions even
further when you yellow-coded her while she was trying to teach you how
to do that 'bloody high-stepping and keeping your head up.'  That
limitation put a real crimp in her program because she has to be sure
her pony-slave can safely move about in the horse-shoes before she
dares saddle him, or even harness him up to a sulkie."

"Seriously, I wish I hadn't needed to use the caution word, but I was
starting to get really pissed off with her and that darned whip of
hers!  If she hadn't restrained my hands for most of that session, I'd
have grabbed that damned whip and broken it in itty-bitty pieces!"

That revelation surprised Solange.  For all it's impressive length, the
whip Artemis used was not at all severe.  In fact, the pony-mistress
had chosen that specific implement because its bark was much worse than
its bite.  "Really?  Why?  Did you find it particularly painful?  Did
she cut you or leave a mark?  Artemis is exceptionally skilled with
that long whip of hers and I can't recall her ever cutting a partner
with it - even accidently .  Mostly, she just uses it for the same
reasons that I use a whip -to sting a submissive for effect or as a
wake-up when they need one."

"She didn't hurt me," Ty admitted.  "DeeDee hurt me with her whips, so
I know what 'hurt' means in this context.  No, it was more that she
just kept snapping it at me - over and over again -like one smartass
kid needling another kid again and again with a rubber band - something
like that, anyway.  I started getting really pissed off over it, and by
extension, with her."

"Didn't you expect that to be part of your pony-play experience?  If
you will recall, I did make a particular point about those practices
when we had our pre-scene discussion.  I mean, trotting on the lunge-
line and dancing to the whip are major parts of that type of scene -
and of being a pony-slave."

"Thought I was ready for it," Ty replied reflectively, "But getting mad
at Artemis wasn't in the plan - and I WAS getting angry.  I had to get
her to back off and let me control that reaction or things would have
gone south in a hurry!"

The older woman nodded thoughtfully.  "Well, then you used the caution
word tool correctly.  Besides, despite your reactions, you managed to
finish the scene with her, so neither of us really have anything to
complain about with your performance or your behavior.  It does,
however, indicate you may not be suited to playing  that role again
with a paying client.  Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?  At
least Arty'll know better what to expect from you if there is a next
time.  You DID  look very cute, by the way, all tacked up," she added
with a mischievous grin.  "Lovely tail, too."

"Yeah.  Juana came in just before we called it quits and made me model
it for her.  Don't think, even for a moment, Solange, that I'm any too
happy about how much SHE liked it on me, or rather IN me," he said with
a sardonic smile.  "Truth to tell, though -just to give you an idea
where my head was at?  I'd all but forgotten about that damn plug being
stuffed up my rear because I was getting so steamed about that nagging
whip and her constant bitchin... I mean, sniping at me."

"Really?"  The tail was always a very big deal for pony-slaves, and
something they were usually constantly aware of during the session.
Momentarily forgetting about it could have meant something as simple as
the plug having been too small.  However, if it had been MORE than that
- if he'd really been THAT upset by Arty's whip-play and verbal jibes,
then Solange would have to be very cautious about using Tina in any
future pony-scenes.  "You actually forgot about the tail?" 

Ty made a dramatic crossing motion across his chest.  "God's truth,
Solange.  In fact, at the end of the session when Juana came in and
told me to 'wag that tail, horsey,' it took me a moment to figure out
what the heck she was talking about!"

"I see."  Solange again strove to remember the parts of the scene she'd
observed.  Had Artemis used the whip excessively?  She hadn't thought
so as she'd watched their scene unfold on her surveillance monitor.
Then again, as she'd just told Ty, most of Arty's playmates were highly
aroused by the time the pony-trainer normally got around to trotting
her charges around the playroom to the encouragement of her whip.
Along with making her playmates more amenable, all those 'I-am-horny'
endorphins tended to turn the whip's sting into something closer to a
teasing caress for the ponies.  Only, Ty hadn't been excited, had he?
She sighed, then smiled at him.  "Well, I don't think we'll plan on
using you with any paying clients in that role."

"I'd try, Solange - you know that.  And I think I'll be better able to
deal with my reactions to the whip and banter having been through it
once... ," and his voice trailed off.

"I understand, and thank you for that.  However, You should understand
that I don't expect you to like every type of scene I expose you to, or
ask you to attempt.  I only expect you to go into each such assignment
with an open mind and a will to give your assigned Domme your best
effort.  There are always some scenarios that no matter how much
someone may try, he OR she simply cannot do them with any degree of
acceptance, let alone pleasure.  We may try pony play with you again at
some later date, but it will again be just you and Artemis until we're
sure of your ability to handle your reactions.  But we'll hold off even
on that for a while.  I would, however, like you to sit down and
discuss the scene and your feelings with Arty."

"Already planned on it.  We're gonna get together for lunch tomorrow.
I was going to ask her for a post-event critique, but she beat me to
it."

"I should have thought she'd do that.  She is a superb Domme, so she'd
want to help you both come to closure - especially  after you had to
yellow-light her scene,"  Solange told him.  "Now, on to another topic
altogether."

"Sure! What's up?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if you'd given any more thought to the
specifics of your victory scene?  The prize you won from the dungeon at
our Halloween Party for capturing ShaJuana?"

Startled, Ty gaped for a moment.  "Umm, don't you remember, Solange?  I
already had Juana in my wicked clutches," he said, a wistful smile on
his face, "All... Night... LONG! And besides - I am an employee of the
dungeon, just like Betina and Emerald."

Laughing, Solange gave a playful slap at Ty's hand.  "I know that,
silly.  But you were a challenger in that game, just like the clients
who accepted the Hall of Horrors contest.  I insist that you, just as
the other challenge victors, get a free scene of your choice with the
Domme or Dommes of your choice for another whole night!  Why, you
wouldn't even have to be the sub in the scene.  Imagine, we could teach
you how to use a whip -I'm certain you'd enjoy that, especially if we
were to use DeeDee's bottom as your target training aid, or you might
decide you'd like to have our oh-so-regal Isolde as YOUR submissive
little sexy-tary."

"Umm, Solange?  You know I'm kinda committed to Juana now.  Well,
except for business purposes, if you take my meaning."

"Kinda?  What's this 'kinda' thing, young man?"

"Kinda as in totally and completely.  As in 'to death do us part, if
then' committed."

"Sounds like you are serious," she observed even as she fought to keep
the joy she was feeling hidden for the moment.  "Then you'll just have
to do something with Juana for your victory session.  The reputation of
my dungeon is at stake here, Tyrone."

"Umm, she's still a little sensitive on the subject of me having
defeated her in that contest, Solange.  I'm not sure that telling her
to sub for me in another scene just now is really such a good idea.
Like I said the other day, I guess I could pick something where she'd
be the Domme, but..."

"Hush, grasshopper, and attend the words of the Master... Mistress and
learn wisdom."

"Huh?"

"Listen and learn, young one, listen and learn."

~-~

Her office door crashed against the room's inner wall, causing Solange
to jump in surprise even as she spun her desk chair about to face
whatever was coming for her.

'Whatever' turned out to be an enraged black Amazon with fire in her
eyes and smoke issuing from both ears!

"WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT ABOUT TY DOING HIS VICTORY PLAY SCENE WITH
DEEDEE?!?" ShaJuana bellowed, both fists slamming down on Solange's
desk, her chin thrust forward in belligerent indignation as she glared
at her boss seated across from her.  "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ALL
ABOUT?!?"

The older woman held up her hands in surrender.  "Hey, settle down,
girl.  And sit down.  What is it that has you storming into my office
like you owned it?"

When the taller woman made no move to comply, Solange's eyes narrowed
and her voice cooled.  "Sit... Down!" she ordered again.  She watched
as Juana gave obeying (or perhaps disobeying) a few moments
consideration before dropping inelegantly into the visitor's chair.
"Better.  Now, what has upset you?"

The fire flared again in Juana's brown eyes and she crossed her arms
beneath her breasts.  "Emerald told me that DeeDee is going to scene
with Ty - as a prize for that game he won on Halloween."

"I see.  So?"

"So you ADMIT it?  WHY?"

Solange gave the girl her best bland look.  "Because she is doing it
with him and I see no reason not to admit it."

ShaJuana actually grabbed two fist-fulls of her own hair and pulled.
"NO!" she screeched.  "Why is he using HER??!"

"Because he can, I suppose.  His prize was anyone he wanted, anyway he
wanted to do her or be done by her.  He asked for DeeDee."

Juana's face fell at that.  "But, but... he's my... I mean, I'm his...
well, he SAID..."

Solange gave a dismissive wave of her hand to stem the flow of
incomplete ideas.  "Yes, I know you two are together, but it's not like
it's exclusive between you, is it?  You still conduct professional
scenes of your own here at the dungeon.  Why shouldn't he?"

"But ... but... that's DIFFERENT!  That's... that's just business!  Ty
playing with DeeDee isn't business unless YOU'VE told him to do it for
training!"

"Oh?  Really?  I didn't realize you this was just a job to you, dear." 
Juana's face drained at that jibe and she started to splutter, only to
have Solange relent with a soft laugh.  "Oh, Juana, lighten up.  I know
what you meant.  You want him to play with you, right?"  

"Yes, dammit!" the other girl snapped, her head nodding furiously.  

"Well, that's part of it, I think.  First, he doesn't want to be the
sub in this session - he wants to be the Dom - and he wasn't sure you'd
be okay with bottoming to him again.  Particularly for the prize scene
which he won at your expense, so I offered him this as an alternative."

"He could have asked," she pouted.

"So you could say 'Hell NO!' and stomp off in your righteous fury?
Perhaps, but you need to give him some credit for trying to be
sensitive to your feelings.  He is, after all, only a male and
therefore somewhat sensitivity challenged.  And there's another reason
he didn't ask you."

"What?" demanded ShaJuana, a mutinous pout on her face.

"He wants to try something that he wasn't sure you'd like, and he is
looking to get some practice with someone else first so he'll have a
better chance to get it right if and when he gets the opportunity to do
it with you."

"But, DeeDee?  Why cute little DeeDee?"

Sensitivity to the hidden nuances was a key attribute of a good Domina,
and Solange immediately recognized why her protegee was feeling almost
threatened by the selection of Deirdre.  The dungeon's resident whip-
mistress was petite, particularly when compared to ShaJuana and her
tall, robust physicality.  The older woman laughed, mostly to relax
some of the bubbling tension between herself and ShaJuana.  "Well, I
suppose he thinks his planned scene might not be entirely pleasant for
the, ah, subject of his attentions.  And since he feels he has reason
to want a little ... payback from DeeDee for earlier lessons
rendered... "

Juana well remembered Ty's discomfort after his training session with
DeeDee, and she could understand him wanting to get a little of his own
back.  Still, she wanted him to play with HER, dammit! "What does he
intend to do?"

"That's confidential, dear, as you should very well know.  For the
purposes of this particular scene, Tyrone is a client of the dungeon
and therefore of me! You know I don't divulge my client's desires,
except as professionally required to the woman or women who will be
playing with him."

"Solange!" Juana flared.  "Don't you dare try that with me."

But the older woman was unfazed by her young friend's temper, and just
smiled.  "Sorry, 'Juana, but if you really want to know, you'll have to
find out for yourself.  I'd start by asking Ty."

"Like HELL I will," she snarled back, and strode from the room.

If anything, the crash of the door slamming behind ShaJuana was even
louder than her entry.

"Perfect," Solange laughed as she turned back to her computer and her
interrupted quarterly tax report.  It was a sign of just how pleased
she was with that interview that even the IRS couldn't dim the grin
Juana's exit had left on the older woman's face.

~-~

Dressed and ready for her next client, Juana sat at her vanity, staring
at her reflection.  She had ten minutes before her sub would be ready
for her which unfortunately gave her ten minutes to think about Ty's
scene with DeeDee.  

Cripes, she thought as she took in her own scowling reflection, I sure
don't have to worry about my grin terrorizing the client today, do I?

So NOW the loveable jerk was going to play with another girl to protect
HER from his own dark desires!  He'd told Solange he needed to
practice, huh?  Who did he think he was?  What did he think he was
doing playing with another girl?!?  Wasn't SHE his girl?!?  

HIS girl!

Okay, so he'd picked DeeDee and Solange had said something about
payback.  That meant he was probably going to be playing with corporal
punishment.  Not her favorite thing, Juana admitted privately,
particularly with her on the receiving end.  Just in general, she
preferred to keep her own booty un-striped, thank you very much.

But dammit, it wasn't like she was some whiny little bitch!  She'd
handled getting her ass whipped during her training period at the
dungeon! Had she wimped out?  EVER?  NO SHE HAD NOT! And by God,
ShaJuana Price could and WOULD take ANYTHING that man wanted to dish
out!  She'd been whipped by WOMEN, by god, who were a hell of a lot
better than any mere male at making things HURT! Not like some sneaky,
devious, gentlemanly...

A knock on her door interrupted the inventive string of adjectives she
was generating to express her displeasure with one Tyrone Edwards, so
she snarled, "WHAT IS IT?"

Ty poked his head in.  "Hey, sorry!  I didn't know you were getting
into character.  I'll bring these back later."

"DON'T you DARE leave, Edwards! Get your connivin' male ass in here!
Right NOW!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" he snapped out even as he jumped into the room and came
to the position of attention.  

"What is this CRAP about you playing with DEEDEE??  What are you
THINKING?!"

He made her even more outraged when all he did was grin.  "AND WHY ARE
YOU SMILING, YOU IDIOT-KNUCKLEHEAD?!?"

He tried to stifle his grin but failed entirely, causing his lover to
begin to sputter.  "No particular reason, Juana," he told her
ingenuously and watched her fury jump several more quantum levels.  In
the face of such rage, he did the only thing he could think of that
didn't involve a cowardly charge to the rear.  He put his papers down,
swept his gorgeous lover off her feet, and proceeded to kiss her
senseless.  

A few moments later, he settled her leather-clad butt down on top of
her vanity table so that she sat eye to eye with him, but didn't say
anything.  She could only stare at him, unable to form a single
coherent thought or response.  If anything, his damn grin widened,
which threatened to set her off all over again.  

"Chill, Juana, it's okay.  It'll be okay."  Then he went over and
recovered the sheaf of paper he'd set down moments earlier.  "Hey,
look, I know you're pressed for time, but could you sign these papers
for me?  We need to get the new insurance plan turned on.  We just
found out that one of our ladies is pregnant and I want to get her
prenatal services and OB stuff on track.  Okay?"  He held out a stack
of paper in one hand and a pen in the other.  

The lovely face went momentarily blank as she tried to accommodate the
sudden shift in topic.  Shaking herself, she took the pen, thankful for
something more concrete than her mixed up feelings on which to
concentrate.  "Ummm, where?" she mumbled.

Ty quickly shuffled through the pages getting her signature several
times.  "Thanks, Juana," he said as he gathered papers and pen back up.
"I'll go over them with you in detail later - after your session if you
like - but now, I want to get them downtown to the agent so we can get
things moving on this."

He was out the door before she could say another word.

Only then did she realize - he hadn't told her what he planned to do
for his victory session with DeeDee.  "Well, hell, fool," she chided
herself.  "You didn't ask him, either!"

~-~

Juana was back in her dressing room; once again staring into the
silvered depths of her mirror.  At least her session had gone well, she
mused.  Her client had even left her a substantial tip to show his
appreciation.  So why didn't she feel the afterglow of a good Domme-
high and the satisfaction of a job well done?

She knew the answer to THAT question.  

Tyrone Edwards.  

Playing with another woman.

Because he needed practice and because Juana might not like whatever it
was he wanted to practice.

Oh yeah, and because he wanted to be the Dom.

She could do the scene, she told herself sullenly.  She could do
whatever it was that Ty wanted from his partner in this scene.  Hell,
she thought, was there ANYTHING he could possibly want to do with a
woman that would be WORSE for her than sitting here, getting all green-
eyed and pissy because he'd chosen another woman as his prize?

Hell NO! He was HERS, DAMMIT!

She was HIS.

Besides, in her heart of hearts, she already knew she'd always enjoy
whatever they might do together - regardless of who was the top.  Hell,
she'd enjoy it A LOT!  One thing she already had figured out about her
guy was that, regardless of his role in their scenes or lovemaking, Ty
got his pleasure from giving her pleasure.  The only real difference
between being the top or being the bottom when they played together
would be who got to tell the other what to do and who got to decide who
came first.  Either way, she'd get hers, wouldn't she?  Damn straight
she would.  Hell, about the only way she wouldn't get hers from Tyrone
Edwards would be if she were the Domme and she ordered him NOT to touch
her.

Like THAT was going to happen in this lifetime, she laughed to herself.

"Guess I'm just gonna have to crash your little scene, Ty-RONE," she
said aloud.  "But first, I think I'm gonna find out just what it is you
have planned.  So I can be REALLY ready for you."

~-~

Solange smiled broadly as she set her phone back on its cradle.  DeeDee
had just called to tell her that ShaJuana had all but cornered her in
the ladies room, demanding to know what Ty had planned for his prize
scene with her.  "I told her I didn't know, Solange," the petite domina
had said during their short call, "And I made sure SHE knew that I
wasn't too happy about being kept in the dark because it was MY ass on
the line.  He's a really nice guy and all that, but I was concerned he
was going to be a real shit about the whipping I gave him early on.
She didn't want to believe me, and she left in a real huff!"

Perfect, the elegant Mistress thought, the game was afoot, and it was
time to bring this mad, merry chase to its successful conclusion.  So
much to do, she thought happily, and then picked her phone back up,
dialing a number from memory.

"Darling?" she said when her slave answered the phone for her.  "I need
you to make a few appointments for me and a friend..."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 22: All Men and Women Merely Players
By Tigger c2008


The prep room's wall phone rang, and Solange went over to pick it up.
She listened for a moment, said a few words and then hung up with a
smile.  "Places everyone," she ordered.  "Curtain's going up!"

~-~

ShaJuana strode up to the door to Prep Room No.  1, and barely stopped
herself from simply crashing inside to confront Solange.  Not good, she
told herself as she leaned against the wall taking deep, calming
breaths - a person needed all their wits about them if they were going
to take on Solange.  With an effort, she willed her pounding heart to
settle back into her chest, and then tried to plot out what she should
do next.  

Mere minutes before, she had finally found out what was up with Ty's
victory scene.  She'd practically had to choke the truth out of Isolde
who'd only known because she was helping out Solange while the
dungeon's regular costume Mistress was on vacation.  She hadn't found
out a moment too soon, either, because evidently the damned thing was
just about to go down!

She should have been TOLD, dammit!

Good thing she'd heard Isolde bitching about the extra duty this
morning, and about how she was having to stay late on a Friday night to
collect and store the costumes after Ty's scene.

Now that Juana knew what Ty wanted, she was even more annoyed that he
hadn't asked her to play it out with him.  Okay, so maybe a guy SHOULD
be cautious about asking his girl for that kind of sex, but hell, he'd
told Solange he wanted it, hadn't he?  Solange KNEW that Juana didn't
have any problems being on the receiving end of that kind of play!  For
cryin' out loud, Solange - HERSELF - had been the one who'd broken
Juana in that way during her training days!

And yes, Ty was big.  SO WHAT?!?  She could handle it! She could, by
god, handle HIM!

Period!

Okay, so he wanted her ass - FINE!  Fair was fair.  She wanted his, and
she sure didn't plan on giving up using his fine male butt anytime
soon, now did she?! No freakin' way! And besides, he SHOULD lust after
her ass! ShaJuana Price had a damned fine ass, even if she did say so
herself! And if Tyrone Edwards wanted an ass to practice on, he would
damn well practice on hers!

That way, she'd make DAMNED sure he learned how to do her right!

Or she'd just have to demonstrate how it was SUPPOSED to be done on his
tight little ass until he got HERS right, wouldn't she?

Damned idiot MALE!

~-~

"God, Solange, I feel like an eight-year old playing dress up in
Mommy's clothes!  Could this damn thing be any BIGGER??!?  I'll trip
over the train and kill myself.  Hey, there's an idea! If I'm dead, my
butt won't be at risk anymore, will it?!"

"Oh, quit whining.  I've seen you drooling over Ty and don't try to
tell me you haven't.  Since you got carried away with your whip both
times he's subbed with you, this may be your only opportunity to play
with him ever again, so DEAL with it!" 

"Okay, Okay.  So maybe I got a little too enthusiastic, but it was his
own damned fault for being so damned cute!  I had to do something with
him, Solange, or I'd've had to jump his bones right there in the
playroom.  And... and... omigod!  Have you seen him in that black
tuxedo?  I don't know whether he belongs on the cover of GQ or
Playgirl, but just LOOKING at him makes me feel all gooey inside!"

~-~

"Hands off, sister," muttered ShaJuana, her ear plastered up against
the prep-room door.  "That's MY man you're fantasizin' about!"  Just
because DeeDee was about the only Domme in the place who had to look up
to Tyrone - damn her for that, too! - didn't mean she was the only one
who could fully appreciate his hotness factor!

After all, hadn't ShaJuana been the one to bring him into this joint
for that very reason??!

~-~

"Well, there won't be any bone-jumping today, so get your hormones
under control, Deirdre! And hold this damned dart together so I can get
in a few pins into it! Then I can do a quick stitch job and it will
hold it up fine," Solange growled around a mouthful of pins.  "For as
long it'll have to, anyway."

"What will THAT do for my boobs, dammit?  I could bathe in these damn
cups! Why do CD's have to have D-Cups, anyway?"

"A question for the ages," Solange answered wryly.  "Now stand still
before I get blood on this damned white tulle!"

~-~

What the hell were they doing in there, ShaJuana wondered as she
continued to eavesdrop.  It sounded like a dress fitting.  White
Tulle?!?

Her eyes went wide as she recalled the last time she'd seen anything
made of that oh-so-very-feminine material.

~-~

The door flew open before ShaJuana's wrath, and for a frozen moment in
time, she simply stood there, glaring at the two women staring back at
her in wide-eyed shock.  Then,  she focused in on the petite blonde
standing atop the hassock draped in about three times too much white
material for her frame.  DeeDee looked like she'd gotten in a fight
with a white tent and lost!

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" the dark valkyrie
managed to get out in a tone that wasn't quite a snarl.

It was Solange who answered.  "Preparing DeeDee for her session with
Tyrone, as I suspect you already know.  Now, you will please excuse us.
This is the only gown we have that suits his request and it needs a lot
of work."

"That's MY gown," ShaJuana growled as she stalked into the room.  "I
picked it out for Tina!  For HER to wear for ME!"

"Actually," Solange answered equably, "It is my gown.  I paid for it
out of the dungeon's business accounts.  Now, if you'll just run along
so we can..."

"NO!" the infuriated black Amazon roared, slamming her fist against the
closed door and causing DeeDee to jump in surprise.  Even Solange
stopped to stare at the taller woman.  With a visible effort, Juana
regained control over her shredding emotions and then repeated more
softly, "No.  I'm not running along.  What I'm going to do is take
DeeDee's place with Tyrone, and Solange?  YOU'RE gonna help me do it!"

"That is not what Tyrone requested nor what I agreed to provide for him
as the proprietor of this establishment," Solange retorted, getting to
her feet to stand between Juana and Deedee.

"Tough, Solange, it's what he's gonna get!  DeeDee?  You have three
choices, little girl.  One?  Run for your life right now.  Two?  Find
Ty and safeword him before this goes any further.  Or three?  Find
yourself between a rock and hard place with me providing BOTH!"

Solange took two steps to get up into Juana's face.  "I will not allow
you to threaten one of your fellow employees!"

"I'm not threatening anybody, Solange," Juana said with a silky smile
that gave lie to that pronouncement.  "You don't feel threatened, do
you, DeeDee?"

The usually composed whip-mistress paled for just a moment, then
swallowed hard and almost managed an answering smile of her own.  "uh,
well, sort of... " Then she saw the scowl that clouded Juana's face and
rushed on.  "I mean, NO, of course not.  I'm... just... FINE."

"Good," Juana said, the hungry shark smile back.  "Then shuck yourself
out of that dress like a good little girl."

"ShaJuana!  As should be obvious, Ty wants to play out the honeymoon
scene you two botched up, but this time with himself as the groom.
Even though he will be using sex toys for any penetrative play, it IS
his scene to do how and with whom he wants to do it!  He wants a bride
in THAT dress and I insist that he gets it!"

"Fine, Solange! I'll wear the freakin' dress, but I'M doing the
freakin' scene with him and that's FINAL!  It don't fit little Miss
Junior Sizes for shit anyway!"

"No, it's not fine, ShaJuana, and it sure as hell isn't final! Deirdre
has assured me she will not safe or caution word what Tyrone has
planned.  I'm not certain you can make that promise, and I WON'T have
him deprived because YOU decide to wimp out when push comes to shove!"

ShaJuana leaned down and got nose to nose with her boss.  "I don't wimp
out, Solange!  You want assurance?  I'll give you assurance! I promise
NOT to use any safe or caution word in there with him, okay?  This is a
no-limits scene!  I freakin' won't LET him stop, okay??!"

"Your word on it, ShaJuana?" Solange asked, not backing down from the
towering woman.

"I just said so, didn't I?!?  And you KNOW my word's GOLDEN!"

Solange gave a gusty sigh, and turned back to face DeeDee.  "Get out of
the dress, Deirdre.  And then run down to wardrobe and get a corset for
Juana.  If she's wearing THAT gown, we're going to need to take a few
inches off her middle."

"Oh really?" Juana asked, her brow lifting as the tension began to ebb.

"Yes, really.  I had to corset Tina pretty radically to get HER into
that thing, if you'll recall, and Tyrone is only a little bigger in the
waist than you are, girl.  As to the bodice, well, your bosom is just a
little large for it, but I guess if those girls of yours pop out the
top, Tyrone won't mind all THAT much." Solange took the gown from
DeeDee and held it up against ShaJuana's much longer body.  "Hmmm.  It
will be more tea-length than floor-length on you, but it will do for
our purposes, I suppose.  The cathedral-length train should still work
for you as well."  Then Solange took in Juana's footwear and grimaced. 
"Those Jimmy Choo ankle-boots are all wrong for the outfit, though.
DeeDee?  See if you find some white pumps that will fit her while
you're down in wardrobe, too."

"I don't think so," Juana interrupted, a wicked grin lighting her face.
"Go get my thigh-high, black patent leather bitch-goddess boots out of
my locker.  He likes how those look on me just fine.  'Sides, it oughta
remind him just who he's dealing with, if you take my meaning."

"NO, dammit! I will NOT have you topping from the bottom, ShaJuana!"
Solange said repressively.  "Particularly NOT in this session!"

"Now, would I do something like that, Solange?"

"To use your own vernacular, my dear?  In a freakin' heartbeat."

"Whatever," Juana said dismissively.  "DeeDee?  Get my boots."

Deirdre was out the door before Solange could say another word.  The
older woman glared up at Juana one last time, then blew out an
exasperated sigh.  "Oh, very well.  I don't suppose it will make all
that much difference in the scene in either case.  Now, go do up your
face while we wait for DeeDee and your corset.  Wouldn't want Tina's
bridal presentation to outshine yours, now would we?" Solange asked
sweetly, and was inwardly pleased at the snarl that immediately
answered her jibe.

~-~

"Oh, that's just PERFECT," Solange cheered as she primped the lace veil
over and around Juana's rich mane of silky black hair.  Stepping back,
she gestured for her model to do a slow pirouette to get the entire
feel of the woman and the gown.  With a sardonic grin, ShaJuana swept
the train over one arm and raised the other above her head as she began
a slow, dancer's turn.

She WAS perfect, Solange told herself again silently.  They'd managed
to lace a hard-won four inches off the girl's waist so that the bodice
fit about her gorgeously muscular figure like a lover's embrace.  She'd
been right about the tits, though.  If those puppies didn't pop out
before the evening festivities were over, well, Tyrone just wasn't
trying hard enough.

The black patent stiletto boots' five-inch heels raised Juana's already
impressive stature to well over six feet, so the gown's front hem
rested a few inches above her well-turned ankles.  Well, okay, so it
was ALMOST perfect, Solange sighed.  "Those laced boots just ruin the
effect," she complained again.

"Did MASTER Ty-RONE specify white shoes?" ShaJuana demanded, one finely
shaped brow winging up in challenge.

Solange wanted to lie, but decided against it.  "No.  He specified that
his partner was to be dressed as a bride.  They do make you even
TALLER, though," she added quickly.

"THIS bride," Juana said, a single long-nailed thumb pointing into her
burgeoning cleavage, "will wear black boots!  He'll just have to deal
with my height instead of getting to tower over DeeDee!"

"Oh, very well!" Solange frumped.  "Not as if that's what was on his
mind, in any case.  He just wanted a chance to warm and stretch out
Deirdre's butt for her.  Come on, Juana, the only people who have a
problem with Tyrone's stature are people who don't know him!  You know
him, so you know the real strength of him.  So what if you're both a
little height-challenged?" Juana's snort was ruined by the hopeful look
she gave Solange.  

Recognizing that insecurity for what it was, the older woman pressed
on.  "Look at everything he's gone through to get to this point - and
don't tell me it wasn't mostly for you, either!  Okay, so a man that
strong can be a little scary and a lot daunting, but if the woman is
strong enough, if she's WOMAN enough to accept that kind of masculine
challenge, the pair of them can build something pretty damned special
together, if you ask me."

A look a smugly feminine understanding passed between the two women.
"You've got a point.  Okay, let's go and get this playing done so that
I can start working on hauling his ass off and getting this done for
REAL!  It's way past time I claimed what is already MINE!"

With that, Juana turned to the door, so she didn't see the wicked
little half smile on her friend's lips, or the sparkle of tears in her
eyes as she pressed the button of a small signaling device she'd hidden
in a pocket.  "Yes, indeed," Solange breathed as she pulled herself
together.  "Let's go get this done."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Chapter 23: The Taming of the Mistress
By Tigger c2008


Feeling calmer than she had in days, ShaJuana stepped into the corridor
outside the prep room and was about to turn towards the stairs that
would take her to the dungeon's third floor playrooms when a familiar
figure stepped out from the shadows and into her way.

Recognizing the older man, Juana looked back to Solange for an
explanation.

"ShaJuana, you remember my slave-husband, Roderick, don't you?  He is
here to escort you to your Master.  Roddy?  You know what to do."

Only then did Juana realize that the man was wearing formal evening
dress.  "Yes, Maitresse Jasmine," he said bowing deeply to Solange
before turning to bow to ShaJuana with equal formality.  "Mistress," he
said offering her his arm, "if you will please allow me?"

Thoroughly confused again and decidedly no longer centered, Juana
meekly put her right hand into the crook of his proffered arm and
allowed herself be guided regally down the corridor.  Such was the
state of her mind and emotions, that it wasn't until they had stepped
into the grand ballroom that she realized they were headed away from
the stairs that would have led them up to the third floor playrooms.

Her question died on her lips when she caught sight of Tyrone Edwards -
watching her approach.

Her mouth literally went dry just looking at him.  The tuxedo he wore
had been lovingly tailored so that it fit his trim, athletic frame
perfectly.  The short coat was open at the front, held in place by a
short, golden chain in lieu of a button.  His black tie and the black
studs of the formal pleated shirt did marvelous things for his golden
complexion and hair.  A bright pink cummerbund and a pink rose
boutonniere provided vivid contrast against the otherwise stark black
and white of his formal dress.

He was freakin' gorgeous, she thought in wonder.  "Oh my God, DeeDee
was right," she breathed aloud, "he's incredibly handsome when he lets
himself be manly.  How did I ever forget that?" 

Maybe because she been so focused in on how great he'd look in
skirts??!?  Cripes, she'd been STUPID, dammit! AGAIN!

Suddenly, she was standing in front of him - staring at him staring
back at her!  She didn't even feel Roderick take her hand from his arm
and give her over to Ty; didn't hear Solange's husband's murmured
comments or sense his retreating bow.  All she was aware of - the only
thing in her world at that moment - was Tyrone Edwards.

Shaking herself mentally, she tried to find her tongue - tried to think
of something clever to say, but her brain was adrift in a bubbling
cauldron of emotion and need.  In the end, all she could manage was a
breathy, "Wow."

Ty grinned, and then 'made his leg' to ShaJuana while at the same time
bowing over her hand to kiss it.  When he again stood erect, he winked
at her and whispered, "Told you I knew how to do that."

She'd barely managed to make the connection to his very first scene
with her and Solange - the time Tina had royally messed up her first
curtsy - when Ty, still holding her hand, went down on one knee before
her.  She watched as he reached into a hidden pocket and produced - my
god, she thought - what a rock!  Which was followed by, where the hell
did he get THAT???

"ShaJuana?  I love you.  Would you please marry me?  Would you please
do me the supreme honor of being my wife, my lover, my Mistress and my
submissive, and most importantly, my very best friend?" he asked, his
voice breaking twice in the asking.

"What?" she managed, her mind still all a-muddle, when a collective,
feminine, 'Awwwwwwwww,' and the strains of Beethoven's 'Ode to Joy'
playing over the ballroom sound system jarred her out of her near
fugue.

Then, Solange was at her side, pressing something into the crook of her
free arm.  "These are for you," she whispered.  Juana looked down and
stared at the bright bouquet of pink tea roses, pink camellia and pink
dogwood blossoms.  "And only for you.  Ty hoped it would be you that
showed up for this, as you can see." 

"What the hell?" Juana muttered, looking around her and seeing for the
very first time that every one of the dungeon's Mistresses -including
DeeDee, the little sneak - was there, standing beside her! And they
were decked out in what she knew without being told were bridesmaids'
dresses.  A quick glance to the other side -TY's side - and there were
her boys - her favorite clients - all dressed like Tyrone!  

With a twinge of something almost like dread, Juana turned back to the
face the 'front' of this little stage and saw another black woman,
smiling broadly at her, wearing the brightly colored robes of her
ministry.  "Reverend Davis?" she asked haltingly, not quite believing
her own eyes.

Reverend Eleanora Davis, the pastor of the AME Church Juana regularly
attended, smiled even more broadly.  "Yes, child.  Ummm, don't you
think you owe this nice young man an answer to his question?"

Juana followed the older woman's look and saw Ty, still kneeling, still
holding her hand in his and still offering the ring to her.  It was
almost more than her sense of the ridiculous could handle.  "Dam...I
mean, doggone it, white boy, if you think this woman's gonna submit to
you, no matter how gorgeous you are in that tux, you got another think
a-comin'!" she snapped, playfully pretending to try to tug her hand
free of his.

"Hey, Juana," he retorted with just a bit of asperity in his tone, "I'm
the one on my knee here, not YOU! Now, are you gonna put me out of my
misery and marry me?  Please?" 

Tears welled and flowed freely as her heart swelled.  "Oh, hell, Ty-
RONE! Of course I'm gonna marry you, turkey!"  Ty barely managed to get
the ring onto her finger before ShaJuana scooped him up off the floor
and began to kiss the lights out of him.

In some still functional part of her mind, she heard the cheers of her
friends and colleagues.  She was getting married - to TY!

Then, she stopped kissing him, pulling her face back to stare into his
eyes sternly.  "Ty?  How can we be getting married?  Doesn't that
require a license and some waiting time??! Those blasted insurance
forms!" she growled.  "You snuck a marriage license application in on
me, didn't you?"

Ty started to wiggle, desperate to put his feet back on the floor, but
his powerful goddess only tightened her hold on him.  "Ty-RONE?  You
better answer me..."

He looked, she thought, like a little boy caught with his hand in the
cookie jar - all embarrassed and frustrated at the same time.  He
mumbled something she didn't quite hear, so she squeezed him even
harder, giving him a little growl for added effect.

"Okay, okay," he gasped out.  "I... uh, well I wanted to do JUST that -
so all the paperwork would be out of the way, but Reverend Davis
wouldn't let me.  So we have to do that part later."

Very slowly, Juana lowered her man to his feet, using her own height
and the added inches of her boots to glare down at the miscreant.
"Wouldn't let you, huh?  So what's all this if we can't get married
yet?"

"We're ah, anticipating the paperwork a little," he answered quickly.

"And JUST what does that mean?" she asked, suspicion bright in her
eyes.

At this point, a laughing Reverend Davis stepped down and clasped hands
with the pair of them.  "Settle down, now, dear," she ordered with
gentle authority.  When Juana reluctantly complied, she beamed up at
the girl.  "What it means, ShaJuana, is that the State of New York
won't recognize your union until after you fill out their paperwork,
pay their taxes and fees, and complete their waiting period."

"Render unto Caesar?" Ty asked, with a smile.

"Precisely," the minister agreed.  "This ceremony would be a promise
between the two of you, witnessed by your friends, blessed by God.  If
you want to make that promise, that is..."

"Of course I do!" "You bet I want to!" was the simultaneous reply from
the two young lovers.

"Then let's do this thing, shall we?  Places everyone!" ordered
Reverend Davis.  "We got us a wedding to celebrate!"

~-~

"Tyrone, will you take ShaJuana to be your wife?  Will you love her,
comfort her, honor, trust and protect her as long as you both shall
live?"

"I will," was the firm reply.

She then turned to the bride, "ShaJuana, will you take Tyrone to be
your husband?  Will you love him, comfort him, honor, trust and protect
him, as long as you both shall live?"

Juana grinned impishly down at her man before turning back to the
minister.  "I will," she said solemnly, and then added, "And I will
spank his butt for him when I decide he needs it, too!"

~-~

Ty carried his bride across the threshold of the bridal suite of the
New York City Hilton in downtown Manhattan.  He didn't set her down
immediately, instead held her as he settled onto the huge bed.  For
infinite moments in time, the simply held each other; kissing and being
kissed.

Suddenly, Juana's roving hands stopped their random movements over his
back and began to systematically pat him down.  Then she pulled back to
stare at him.  "And just what is it I feel you wearing under that sexy
tux, cutey?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

"Well," and it was Tina's voice that answered her, "you'll just have to
unwrap me and find out.  But I will tell you this -Whatever it is I
have on under this monkey suit?  They match my cummerbund."

"Hey, I thought this scene was about you wanting MY ass, lover."

"My ass, your ass," he replied as he began to work his way down the
buttons of her gown, "what does that matter as long as we both get what
we want in the end?"

"As long as we both get each other in the end, lover."

"Amen to that."

~-~


Acting Dominant
Epilogue: Loves Labors Won


Ty stepped out of the Chinese restaurant and into the one of New York's
infamous horizontal late April showers.  Any May flowers this deluge
brought would have to be pretty damned hardy, he thought with a smile. 
Still, it took more than a little freezing rain to take the smile off
his face these days.

He was busier than a one-armed wallpaper hanger with a serious case of
hives, but that was the way he liked it.  Besides, what with his
studies at the studio school, homework, the director internship job
Roddy had arranged for him and his duties as business manager at
Solange's dungeon, there wasn't much difference between work and play
for him.  Work was way too much fun, even if his sometimes fourteen to
sixteen hour days left him a bit frazzled around the edges.
Fortunately, he had ShaJuana to help him deal with that problem.  It
was a relationship that wouldn't suit many folks, but it worked for
them.

They'd just celebrated their six month anniversary last week, albeit a
little early, and Ty was already planning the festivities for their
seven month anniversary.  He'd have to go some, though, to top what
ShaJuana had sprung on him.  She'd completely blind-sided him with that
session, mostly because she did it while they were home visiting his
parents at the time.  And having his Mother - Donna Reed herself -
knock on their bedroom door and ask if everything was all right in
there, just when Juana was all set to have her wicked way with his
restrained and helpless body had absolutely blown his mind.  The memory
of ShaJuana's answering shout of "Oh, he's just a little tied up right
now, Mrs. E, but he's just fine!" still sent chills up his spine - even
now.

It had tickled him how well his tall, ebony lioness had taken to his
petite, practically-perfect-in-every-way, homemaker-Mother and vice
versa.  Within the first hour of his and ShaJuana's arrival at his
parents' house, Mother and Daughter-in-law were off huddled together in
Mom's parlor, chattering and giggling like longtime girlfriends, and
they'd only gotten closer as the visit had progressed.  In fact, unless
his theater-trained eye had deceived him, Juana had been giving his
Mother cosmetics lessons because 'Donna' had been looking rather more
exotic (he couldn't let himself think of it as erotic) towards the end
of their stay -particularly in the evening.

And now that he thought about it - particularly right before bed time. 
Especially the time Mom had all but ordered Dad to say good night.
Donna Reed as a femme-fatale sex goddess?  Oh, lord, the LOOK on his
father's face that night - Ty could empathize and... and...

HELL, boy, he chided himself, don't EVEN think of your mom that way!  

Well, Oedipus was classic theater, so maybe he could think of her, at
least in the abstract?  Yeah, he could because he was a guy and Mom was
gorgeous, after all.  Ty decided that he wasn't the only really lucky
guy in this family.  

Lucky guy indeed, he thought as he entered their apartment building.
THEIR apartment - just putting those two words together in a sentence
made him smile.  But then, just about everything about Juana made him
smile.  Lucky.

Ty was just about to slide his key into his entry lock when the door
swung open and a powerful black arm snapped out to grab him by the tie
and haul him bodily into the apartment.  The force of the pull was so
great that he had to take several steps beyond the threshold to catch
himself.  By the time he had, the door was slamming shut behind him.  

At least he hadn't dropped the sweet and sour, he thought grinning.
"And how was your day, dear?" he asked in a very creditable imitation
of Lucille Ball, turning back to face his wife.

His mouth fell when he saw her.  She was magnificent in hot pink
leather - pink corset, pink strap-on, complete with a pink dildo of
considerable dimensions, pink thigh-high stockings, pink garters, pink
stilettos and... omigod - where in hell does anyone go to buy a hot-
pink riding crop??!  "I had a freakin' GREAT day, boy! I did two client
scenes that went really well, so I am in prime Top-space!"

Holding up the bag he still had in his hand, Ty offered slyly, "Hungry?
I've got sweet and sour pork..." 

Her chocolate eyes narrowed to slits and her smile became positively
feral.  "Oh, I'm hungry, all right, cutey, but it sure as hell ain't
for food! Drop the bags, lose the clothes and get on your KNEES!"

"Geez, Mistress Bitch - at least let me put the Chinese in the fridge,
first," he wheedled.  

"LIKE HELL, boy!" she snarled, grabbing his shirt front in both hands,
ripping it open to scatter buttons like popping corn.  "In case you've
forgotten?  It's Tuesday night, so your ass is MINE and I want it NOW!
So get it STRIPPED so I can get STARTED!"

Then she caught sight of what he had on beneath the now-tattered shirt
and just stared.  The look on her face when she took in his own costume
was perfect - and everything he'd hoped he'd see when he'd managed to
spirit the garment out of the apartment that morning hidden in his
briefcase.  "Oh, Ty," she gushed in a totally un-Domme-like voice.
"You're wearing the indigo basque I got you?  The matching panties and
stockings, too?"

He nodded, and she batted away a few happy tears.  "You look
beautiful."

"Well, hell, Tall Booty, it is Tuesday, after all," he reminded her
with an exaggerated sniff.  "But Thursday's comin' and I promise you -
when it does?  So will you."  At her slightly nervous laugh, he struck
a lewd pose.  "Want me to go fix my face," Mae West's voice purred,
"And, ah ... get into somethin' a little less comfortable, big gal?"

"Oh, yeah," she breathed in aroused wonder, "Go in there and get rid of
the rest of those silly boy clothes, and ... let's see ...  oh, yeah,
slip into those 5-inch ankle-busters with the little padlocks.  I think
I may need a little maid service later.  Speaking of which, I'll put
the food away.  Oh ... you naughty little bitch.  You got Chinese
because you know I think it tastes even better when it's heated up
again.  Are you trying to play me, little Miss top-from-the bottom?"

"Would I do that?" Ty said as he headed off to slip into something less
comfortable.

~-~

"MmmmmmmmmMMMMMMmm," Juana purred as she stretched out in their bed,
rubbing up against Ty like a contented cat.  They were both comfortably
nude, their dual hungers temporarily sated by two sessions of intense
love-making - one kinky, the other sweetly vanilla - sandwiched around
pigging out on Ty's take-out offering.  ShaJuana never did get her maid
service ... but then, there would be lots of other Tuesdays.

A lifetime of them.

"And how was YOUR day, darlin'?" she asked him as she rolled over top
to lay on and look down at her husband.

Ty wrapped his arms around her and held her close, reveling in the
weight of her body pressing down on his own.  "Good - very good, in
fact.  I pulled off a real coup during the directing lab today."

Juana nuzzled his throat before resting her head on his shoulder.  "Oh?
How so?"

"Yeah.  Remember me telling you about Kelly?  The Goth-girl actress who
is really shy?"

"Um hmm.  You were worried she wouldn't be able to drop her Goth mask
and do the more mainstream role called for in the play you're working
on."

He nodded and planted a quick kiss on her forehead.  "Yup.  Well, we
had a bit of a breakthrough today.  I took her aside and told her about
Tina - about how I used to work in a dungeon...  as a girl...  and what
made it work was to remember that I was not the role.  That when the
end of the day came, the role stayed behind and it didn't touch me, so
I - the real me - couldn't possibly be embarrassed by anything the role
required me to do."

"Used to work in a dungeon?!?" Juana yelped, coming up onto her hands
and knees, straddling Ty so she could glare down into his face.  "You
told her about Tina?  About the cross-dressing?  About...well,
EVERYTHING?"

Ty grinned at the stunned amazement in his wife's face.  "Well, yeah, I
did."

"And you LEFT it like that?"

Gotcha, Ty thought.  "Sort of.  After she did her scene?  Quite well, I
might add, which is why I said it was a very good day because she was
sure she was gonna blow it.  Anyway, she came and asked me if what I'd
said was true."

"Okay, white-boy," Juana growled.  "What did you do?  Really."

He shrugged as best he could with her full weight bearing down on him,
and told her, "I did my best stern-and-strict Domme face at her and
asked her if she thought I would EVER submit to being some namby-pamby
little spanking slut."

Ty laughed and said, "It was like reading a book, watching her thoughts
flash across her face.  At first she looked like she was gonna pee her
panties for making me mad.  Like she had insulted me by even thinking
such a thing was possible.  Then she got angry for herself, for being
lied to.  Then it finally clicked and she realized that it didn't
matter what was true.  What mattered was making someone believe the
character.  You could just see the gears behind her eyes realigning
themselves into a new engine.  She's gonna be a great actress someday,
if she can harness that." 

A laughing, giggling armful of woman collapsed atop him.  "Oh, I wish I
had been there to see that!" Juana managed to get out between gasps.
"Namby-pamby spanking slut, eh?  Sounds like fun.  Let me go get my
sorority paddle, cutey!"

Instead, her husband wrapped his arms about her with that surprising,
unexpected strength that always thrilled her to her girlish core.  Then
he rolled atop her, and began seducing her the old-fashioned way with
mouth and hand, passion and love.

The Beginning.