Nothing Like The Sun: 11 (F/m)
        
    That Sunday was the best i'd ever had. True, my ankles were chained to the
frame of Mistress' sofa sleeper bed, but i didn't have to wear the chastity
belt, and Mistress, amazingly, waited on me hand and foot all day. She even
went so far as to go out to Hardee's and buy me the breakfast biscuits i liked
so much. i had ice cream for dinner. i felt like the kid who'd just had his
tonsils out.        
        
   i was apparently supposed to have some sort of antibacterial goo applied to
my piercings three times a day, which meant that three times on Sunday She took
my genitals in Her left hand and held them softly while She tended to my wound.
       
        
   Of course, not an hour went by that She didn't at least once shoot me a
cautionary look that told me all i needed to know: Do NOT get used to this.
Still, i had a grand old time even with the lingering pain to remind me of the
previous night's activities.        
        
   By mid-afternoon something seemed to be bothering Her. i was very much
afraid that i was tiring Her out or She was just getting bored with me, so
shortly after finishing my ice cream i voiced my concerns and told Her i didn't
need Her to take such good care of me if She didn't want to.  She just laughed
at me in a tired sort of way and said: "That's very sweet of you michael, but
not everything in My life revolves around YOU."        
        
   i wondered what She meant by that, but i let it drop.        
        
   Despite Her flagging energy, She'd even gone to my apartment- She still had
the key - and brought me clothes for work so i could just leave directly from
Her place in the morning.          
        
   i wasn't sure how to react around Lindsey the next day. i wasn't one hundred
percent SURE she'd been there, and i wasn't sure how i felt about it if she
had. i went back to my usual smile and nod and then ducked into my office. i
was also moving swiftly to avoid anyone noticing the stud in my still angry and
reddened earlobe.        
        
    When Lindsey went on break she slipped into my office and put her arms
around me gently, kissing the very spot the "fondler" had Saturday night. She
had the same perfume too.        
        
   For a moment we looked into each other's eyes as we accepted that the other
knew and understood. Then she said in a quiet, humble voice, "Thank you,
Michael."        
        
   "I don't think you should thank ME, I probably wouldn't have... I mean..."  
     
        
   She looked at me askance.        
        
   "God, that thing on your head really did cut you off from the world, didn't
it?"        
        
   i nodded. "Why?" i asked.        
        
   "I wasn't thanking you about being there while you were pierced," she said,
giggling a little, "I was thanking you about Mandy!"        
        
   i gave her a look of utter blankness and confusion and she REALLY burst into
laughter.        
        
   "But.. I thought she..."        
        
   "You mean Jeff? Jesus, I met him! He was a real catch, let me tell you!" she
said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "God, you're impossible to figure out,
Michael! One minute you're, like, so damn.... Midwestern and the next
minute..." her voice trailed off but she smiled at me wickedly.        
        
   "Cool?" i ventured. She doubled over in laughter.         
        
   While she was trying to control herself, and apologize profusely for
trashing my ego, something she'd said about the headgear clicked in my mind.   
    
        
   "Wait... Mandy was there too?"        
        
   She had to wipe away tears. She nodded.        
        
   "She's the one who did it! That's WHY I got to go."        
        
   My thoughts were bouncing around in my head like a racquetball in play.     
  
        
   "Her brother, like, does it for a living and she helps out on her off hours.
She was very professional about the whole thing. Too much so in a way."        
        
   "Why?"        
        
   "Well, she and Catherine were really going at it. It really, really upset
Mandy that you couldn't talk or speak on your behalf."        
        
   "It's probably for the best she couldn't hear me," i admitted.        
        
   She was gazing down at her foot, twirling it around on the floor nervously.
"Well, I kind of told her, assured her, y'know? That it was okay with you."    
   
        
   "Hey! Where do you get off speaking for me!"        
        
   Now she looked genuinely upset. "Um, I mean, you were, like, eating at a
public restaurant with a dog collar on, for God's sake! I mean, I guess...
Catherine sort of explained the deal with playing the game and I guess..."     
  
        
   She couldn't talk for a minute. i realized she had only been trying to help
me, but it still bothered me.        
        
   "WOULD you have done it? If you'd had the freedom to choose?" she asked,
meeting my gaze a little defiantly.        
        
   i thought that over. "Maybe. Yes, probably. Not that much at once, though.
And NOT with that fucking thing at the end!" i added emphatically, rubbing my
sore ear.        
        
   "The gun?"        
        
   "Whatever it was."        
        
   "Like I said, Mandy was the total professional. Catherine wanted her to use
the gun for ALL of them!"        
        
   i tried to imagine that. my mind balked at the prospect.         
        
   "I mean, they REALLY went at it! God, when it came time for the guiche..."  
     
        
   i had to ask her what that was. She pointed.        
        
   "Anyway, Mandy didn't want to do it because Catherine's got you wearing the
belt, right? And it's like really, really important you keep that area clean.
And Mandy kept saying how she was nervous that it would be hard to keep clean
with the belt on, y'know, really belaboring the point?"        
        
   i nodded.         
        
   "And Catherine, like, blows it and screams 'I'll lick the fucking area clean
every fucking night myself!' "        
        
   "I remember Her raising Her voice, I think..." i admitted.        
        
   "Well, if it were me, I'd hold her to that!" she said with a wink.        
        
   i quickly switched gears and asked, "Was it me, or was that a vet's office?"
       
        
   She went shoe-gazing again. "Ummm... can't tell you."        
        
   "Why not? I mean, I was mostly curious why it would be in a place like
that?"        
        
   "Autoclave."        
        
   She had to explain that to me too.        
        
* * * *        
        
   When Lindsey went back to work, i didn't. Instead i pulled out the phone
book and began to root through the ads in the yellow pages for veterinary
clinics. One, the W- Animal Hospital, had a Dr. Catherine K-, DVM listed       

along with three other male vets. Notably, the address was just a few blocks
down the road from Her favorite Chinese restaurant.        
        
   At lunch, i drove out there, parked in the lot of a Long John Silver's
across the street, dashed over to the other side, and snuck into the rear -
"employees" - parking lot.        
        
   Her car wasn't there, but there was a beat up gray compact that looked a LOT
like Mandy's. i wished i'd paid more attention when we'd dropped her off after
the concert. The car had several stickers in the window for "Phish" and one
with dancing teddy bears; and had a bumper sticker that read: MY OTHER CAR IS
SLOW TOO!        
        
  There was a backdoor with a concrete step. i quickly tried to pace out my
route to a hypothetical car trunk from it. It felt right.        
        
   When i got back to the office, Lindsey told me i had a message. She looked
upset, so i didn't know what to make of it when i read the note she handed me. 
      
        
   PATIO MIDNIGHT        
        
   "Is everything okay?" she asked.        
        
   "Yeah, why?"        
        
   "She sounded... bad I guess."        
        
   "Mad?"        
        
   "No, bad. Sick."        
        
   i wanted to take off work right then and go to Her, but the note said
MIDNIGHT.        
        
*  *  *  *        
        
   For the second time in a month, midnight took forever to arrive. Twice i
jumped out of the skin when my phone rang. One was a telemarketer, the other
was mom, checking up on me.        
        
   The drive to Her house was nerve-wracking. i remembered how She'd seem to
wane as Sunday had gone on. At 11:56 i jumped out of my car and sprinted across
Her lawn. She was waiting on the patio, dressed in Her jeans and T-shirt combo.
Her skin didn't seem pale in the moonlight, it was pallid. She was gazing at
the sky and didn't even acknowledge me at first, except to say in a dreamy
voice, "Full moon tonight."        
        
   i didn't know what to say. She led me inside, moving very slowly and
deliberately. i was boling over with concern, but She merely ordered me to
strip in that same sluggish, out-of-it voice. In the close confines of the mud
room i noticed something else: a smell. A stink, really; an organic, yet
unfamiliar stink. It was coming from Her.        
        
   She led me into the dungeon and ordered me to get two sets of cuffs linked
by long chains. When i turned around again with them, She was leaning heavily
against the doorjamb for support. Her face was scrunched up tight and i could
now make out a sheen of sweat across Her face.        
        
   "Mistress?" i asked, horrified.        
        
   "M'okay," She slurred, "Didn't want to take drugs, want to keep m'head
clear."        
        
   "Drugs for what?"        
        
   She snapped Her fingers and turned slowly on Her heel. She led me back to
the mud room, and, to my nervous surprise, opened the door and led me, naked
and collared, into Her back yard.        
        
   At the far end of the yard, at the edge of the woods, was a single-piece
picnic table. She ordered me to find the little hooks set into the underside of
the table. i looped the links of the chains to the hooks and then She ordered
me up on the table to lie on my back.        
        
   She fastened the cuffs to my ankles and wrists. i was lying face up and
spread-eagled under the open night sky.        
        
   "Full moon," She said again, tying a black silk blindfold over my eyes.     
  
        
   "In pagan times the full moon was considered a time of great power. Female
power. Sacrifices were made to it. Sacrifices of blood. Virgins."        
        
   The air was so cool, but that wasn't why i was shivering. i heard a "zip"
and the rustle of denim.        
        
   "Libations to the Goddess." The table rocked and the wood stressed out
beneath me as she climbed on. The table was straining to stay upright as She
stood up on it. She stepped cautiously until She was directly standing over my
head. That smell, that stink, was overpowering.        
        
   "Are you prepared to worship your Goddess?" She croaked, Her voice giving up
on Her.        
        
   As i opened my mouth to say "Yes, Mistress," a single DROP fell into it.    
    
        
   The TASTE i knew, had known from sucking on countless cuts and suffering
numerous school yard altercations. i had just never smelled so much blood
before.        
        
   "Worship me," She said through the cloud of Her pain as She squatted down.
"Eat of my body, drink of my blood."        
        
   Straining my mouth to reach Her bloody cunt, i did.        
        
* * * *        
        
Saturday        
        
   It took Her a couple of days to recover from Her period. By the time we got
to the gym She was still pretty weak and i'd offered to wait a week until She
was feeling better; but She'd have none of it. Given the delicate situation
with my own body, i suppose we were on a somewhat level playing field after
all.        
        
   The belt had gone back on Tuesday, but every night She'd removed it and
carefully cleaned and applied ointment to my wound. She did NOT, however, make
good on Her promise to Mandy and regrettably i lacked the courage to call Her
on it.        
        
   She spanked me a few times over the week, but mostly we just talked. Again,
it was impossible for me to tell when She was merely playing devil's advocate
to goad me on and when She was really defending Her beliefs.        
        
   The game that Saturday was sluggish and sloppy. We went into our fist match
game tie breaker and when the final rally was over and the ball hit the floor,
i had won.        
        
   We were both wasted by the experience, yet i could see something in Her eyes
that bothered me. There was a stubborn resistance there, a desire not to want
to acknowledge the outcome. But, fortunately, at least that night, She was far
too exhausted to act on those impulses. There were tiny red stains on the front
of my shirt, and i was bleeding from the guiche as well.        
        
   i changed, showered, and met Her at the car. She hadn't said if i should put
the belt back on or not, so i'd erred on the side of caution and had. There was
a new tension between us as we rode home, different than the one usually
generated by my fear and uncertainty.         
        
   When we arrived, i was ordered through the slave's entrance as usual. Before
She dismissed me, She asked about the belt and when i told her, She said to
remove it as well as my clothes.        
        
   i met Her in the dungeon. She still had on Her workout clothes. She led me
to an "X" frame in one corner of the room and for a moment i hesitated.        
        
   "Tonight is yours, michael," She explained wearily. "But you are STILL my
slave!"        
        
   She strapped me to the frame, walked away and turned out the lights before
going upstairs.        
        
   In the dark, the night certainly didn't feel like it was mine.        
        
   It took a while for Her to return, but God was it worth the wait! The smell
of the leather reached my nostrils before the supple, sensual creak and groan
of it reached my ears. Heels clicked on the floor.        
        
   The light snapped on, blinding me for a second, and when my vision cleared i
could make no sound but a single, inarticulate moan of pure pleasure; the equal
to the one i had made that first night upon that first vision of Her as a
Domme.        
        
   She was wearing a leather catsuit, a leather catwoman suit to be precise; no
doubt meant as an homage to my oft-spoken of fondness for comic books. my body
shook and bucked in the frame more violently than it had in all our previous
sessions combined; but this time it had nothing to do with pain or cold or
fear.        
        
   "Do you like this, michael?" She sad, twirling around, modeling it for me.
The word "Yes" was beyond me, all i could do was whimper like a puppy starving
for affection. My fuses were blowing and She hadn't even touched me yet.       

        
   When She wrapped Her gloved hand around the base of my cock i cried out. The
sensation was more intense than anything i had ever known. my body twisted and
turned as Her hand made the short trip to the head of my penis. She squeezed
when She got to the rose-colored tip. i screamed.        
        
   i was blubbering, crying. It took Her only three such languid pulls before i
shot. She didn't try to move away as my semen hit Her square in the chest,
leaving long milky streaks against the black leather.        
        
   She milked me for a moment or two afterward, and i came again! This time the
cum didn't so much shoot out as bubble up from the tip and ooze all over Her
gloves.        
        
   She got a towel and wiped Herself off, wiped me off and wiped up the floor.
i hung on the frame limp and literally drained.        
        
   "Do you understand now, michael?"         
        
   "Yes Mistress."        
        
   "Good. Because the pleasure you have felt tonight is nothing compared to
what you WILL experience should you win again? Understand?"         
        
   i nodded.        
        
   "Just as the torments you have faced so far are but trivial annoyances
compared to what you will yet endure. The reward will always be commensurate
with the risk you face. Remember that." She turned off the lights again, and
left me strapped to the frame for the night.         
        
   What i remembered most, however, was that look on Her face when She lost.