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Subject: [New Story] Protecting the Mistress (14/31) (FemDom, Romance)
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Tales of the Cabal: Protecting the Mistress
by Tigger
Copyright 1999, All Rights Reserved.

Archiving and reposting of this work is permitted only on sites
where *no* fee (including so-called adult checks) of any type is
charged and provided that my authorship, the story itself and
this statement of rights are included and are unchanged.

This story is based on the Cabal as I developed it in one of my
first stories, "Domination Games."  This story is archived at the
Nifty Archive.

Url:  www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Tigger/

The file is Domination-Games.html

***********

Protecting the Mistress
by Tigger

Part 14:  First Night at Cabal Mountain Lodge

It was very late by the time they finally arrived at the Lodge,
and they were both exhausted from a full day at work and the long
drive to the mountains.  "I will take care of our room, Gerry,
and I'll have one of the general service slaves take care of the
luggage.  You go get yourself checked in." Mary ordered gently.

Gerald gave her one last, longing look.  Mary simply stared back
at him, waiting for him to make his decision.  He wasn't a slave,
at least not here at the Lodge for this weekend, until he
formally declared himself as one.  If he didn't declare himself
as her slave, it was all over anyway.  The Council wouldn't allow
them to do the demonstration scene unless he was a declared
slave.  

This would then be his last opportunity to back out completely. 
All he had to do was refuse to declare.  Both of them would be
escorted off the grounds within the hour.  After he declared, he
could still quit, but not before he'd been forced to deal with
some of the harsher realities of the Lodge.  Harsh for him, at
least.

Gerald dreaded what he knew would come next.  If he could find a
way to get out of this with his honor intact, he would take it
without a second thought.  Gerald absolutely detested public
play, with all those people milling about him making their
teasing, mocking comments.  Mary was well aware of Gerald's
feelings on that subject and had accommodated him in the past. 
During their earlier visits, their play had been private. The
many facilities at the Lodge enhanced their experiences, but the
actual scening had always been between just the two of them. 
This would be very different, but, there just wasn't any other
honorable way out for him.  He'd given her his word - it was as
simple as that.

Gerald bobbed his head to her and let himself out of the car. 
Off to the rear of the Lodge's main building was the entrance to
the slave dormitory; a place filled with just about anything ever
conceived by the human mind for the control and maintenance of
voluntary slaves. There were kennels, bondage devices, cots, even
designated bare-floor sleeping space, depending on how a slave's
owner wanted his or her pet quartered.  There were also
punishment cells in the basement. Gerald had never seen one of
those and didn't want to, either.  

He was greeted immediately upon entering the dormitory by a tall,
physically fit man of indeterminate age garbed in a leather vest,
trousers and boots.  An executioner's hood hid his face and a
cat-a-nine tails dangled from a strap about his right wrist. 
This man was this weekend's Overseer. His duty was to run the
dormitory, get the slaves into the specified night
accommodations, provide whatever punishment or discipline was
ordered by a slave's specific owner or by the Council for
unattached slaves.  Mostly, he simply looked after the residents
of the Dormitory.  

During an earlier visit, Mary had explained to Gerald that
members who performed this duty received discounts on their club
dues for "giving" up a congregation weekend in the service of the
Cabal.  The plan benefitted everyone - the members had a place to
send their slaves for safe keeping when they needed some down
time, and it helped some folks afford membership.  "Besides,"
she'd giggled, "Sometimes it's a real hoot to have fifty or sixty
naked, eager slaves hopping to your tune."

"Halt!" the Overseer's challenge breaking into Gerald's musings. 
"Do you stand ready to declare yourself as slave before this
Congregation of the Cabal?" 

Knowing the drill, Gerald answered.  "I declare myself slave, and
property of Mistress Mary Johnson."

The Overseer picked up a book, much like an old-fashioned hotel
registry, and handed it along with a pen to Gerald. "Then sign
this book and indenture yourself to her." 

Gerald had to kneel on the floor to get a surface on which to
write.  That was probably intentional, he thought, having to
kneel while signing away his freedom of will for the remainder of
the weekend.  He signed his name next to Mistress Mary's
reservation which indicated her sole ownership of the newly
declared slave.  Short of a Council edict, no one but Mary had
the right to order or punish Gerald now, and in the case of such
an edict, he could choose to leave instead.  Actually, he could
always choose to leave.  It was as simple as saying his safe
word, walking back to the Dormitory and crossing his signature
off the registry.

Only he'd never be allowed back if he dodged a Council directed
discipline.

And Mary would never be allowed back if he left at all, at least
until he had satisfied the requirements of the contract.

He was escorted into a locked room at the rear of the dormitory. 
Inside were rows of individual lockers, each with a padlock and
hasp.  Under the watchful eye of the Overseer, Gerald was ordered
to strip down to the skin - shoes, socks, everything. 
Fortunately, the Lodge itself and anywhere else he was likely to
go during this visit would be steam heated so he wouldn't catch a
chill in the crisp mountain air.  

He hung up his clothes in one of the lockers and then padlocked
it shut.  Then the locker key, along with Gerald's wallet,
personal keys and jewelry were checked into a safety box that was
in turn locked by the Overseer.  Once he'd signed the receipt
form and given it to Gerald to give to Mary for safe keeping, the
two exited the locker area and the door was again locked shut.

"Your Mistress is waiting for you in the main salon.  Her orders
are that you attend her immediately as you are." the leather clad
male dominant told him.  "Now get moving. She is waiting for
you."  

A sharp slash across Gerald's ass from the Overseer's cat helped
hustle him out of the relative privacy of the slave barracks and
into the public rooms of the Lodge.  Mistress Mary was waiting
for him in the center of the main salon, just as he'd been told. 
She hadn't even bothered to "dress the part" yet and was still
wearing her travel outfit of jeans, t-shirt and deck shoes. 
Gerald quickly moved to her and went to his knees, head bowed.

A soft, cool hand began stroking his hair, before moving to his
neck and then his shoulders.  Only it wasn't really a petting
kind of stroking, it was more like she was testing his muscle
tone with her hands, as if he were some type of show animal. 
Gerald became increasingly aware that he was the center of
attention for most of the members in the main salon.  His image
of himself as a show animal was apt.  He was on exhibition here,
and Mistress Mary was displaying him as carefully and as
precisely as any show handler had ever posed a champion cocker
spaniel for a dog show judge.

For her part, Mary could see and feel the tiny, shivering
shudders in the tight, clenched muscles of his back, neck - even
in his arms and legs.  A bright red flush of embarrassment had
crept up his face and down his torso.  He was absolutely
miserable, she thought, being the center of attention like this. 
He never saw himself as she did, as the beautiful, sexually
exciting male animal who had  every other woman in the room
wishing that she was the one to whom he knelt.  All he saw was
everyone present staring at him as he cowered before her, nude in
the center of the room.

Mary had been expecting something like this from Gerald -
expected it and dreaded it.  Try as she might, she'd been unable
to come up with a single idea or scheme to help Gerald cope with
the intense humiliation he was feeling at that moment. He'd come
so very far, she mused.  Actually, *they'd* come so very far, and
now, it might all come to a screeching halt.  

After all the progress they'd made in the previous weeks, Mary
thought sadly. Geri and Gerrie had done so very much to help him
to open up to her, to get past the little humiliations of those
games and even enjoy himself.  Even after all those positive
experiences, he still could not seem to deal with the deep
seated, near loathing he felt for being made to play the
exhibitionist.  He just could not accept that this experience,
humiliating as it may have been to him, was just part of the game
among *friends* who understood that it was only a game.  

Only one problem, Mary thought grimly, to Gerald, it simply
wasn't a game.  By the look of him, it was as close to real
torture as she could bring herself to inflict on another human
being, let alone on the man she loved.  Gerald was on exhibit and
he despised it and everyone who was watching that exhibition.

She hunkered down in front of him, and lifted his chin so his
eyes locked on hers.  "Is it really so very bad, pet?  Are you
really so very ashamed of being here, of being seen submitting to
me here?"

His eyes went wide, and he tried to shake his head no.  "God, no,
Mistress, never ashamed of being *anywhere* with you, of doing
*anything* with or for you, but. . . but all these *people*, just
gawking and whispering. . .*laughing* . ." he said with a slight
catch breaking his voice.  "Well, it is so very hard."

Mary could see that he was perspiring and breathing heavily.  For
a moment, her mind flashed to the scene she had planned for the
next day's public demonstration.  If merely kneeling before her
in front of these people while completely nude was doing this to
him, how would he react to that? How would he be able to begin to
cope with that?  

One of the reasons she loved Gerald was that he was so different
from many of the other men Mary had met in the scene.  Just now,
however, she fervently wished he wasn't quite *this* different. 
Most submissives were at least mildly exhibitionistic. Few, if
any members of the Cabal would think twice about whether or not a
nude Cabal slave might actually be truly upset about being stared
at. In the Cabal lexicon, it was accepted, almost a matter of
faith, that nude slaves attending the Lodge Congregations wanted
to be seen, that they reveled in that delightful tingle of
enforced exposure humiliation.  

But not Gerald.  For her Gerald, his submission to her was a
private gift just between the two of them and what he was trying
to deal with at this moment was definitely not private.  That was
why she'd been able to play the little girl games with him, or to
laugh *with* him as he minced about so awkwardly in those almost-
high heels as Gerrie.  His response to those experiences had been
so open and beautifully playful because no one else had been
involved.  

Oh, at her request, he'd played with other folks before, but
they'd always been known to him ahead of time, and for the most
part, friends of them both. And even then, the play had always
been done essentially in private with just Gerald, their friends
and Mary in attendance.

Real uncertainty clawed at Mary's belly, and her resolve wavered. 
"Tomorrow will almost certainly be much worse than this, pet."
she warned him softly while thinking what an understatement that
really was and decided she had to make him understand that. 
"This is very, very mild compared to what I will ask you to face
for me tomorrow, sweetheart."

"I. . .I know that, Mistress." Gerald whispered back, his voice
still raspy.

"We can still go home, love."  The shivering was getting worse
instead of better; he was panting nearly to the point of
hyperventilating and the perspiration was literally dripping of
his body.  Mary's uncertainty slid dizzily into shame at putting
him through this.  Nothing was worth seeing him like this. 
"C'mon, let's go get your clothes and leave.  There's that motel
about ten miles down the mountain from here.  We'll get a room
there for the night and have you safely at home in the morning."

"N. . . no.. . . NO!" Heads throughout the salon snapped around
at Gerald's bellowed negative.  All they saw was Mary gently
stroking her slave's back and quietly whispering to him.  "I have
to try, Mistress.  I . . . I can't just quit without giving this
my best shot.  I promised you."

"I don't want you hurting like this, pet.  You are in real
torment and while I am truly awed that you would suffer like this
*for* me, I hate seeing you like this.  That is not what this is
all about." she said firmly. "That's not the way this should be. 
Regardless of why we are here, what we do here at this place is
supposed to have at least some element of fun.  I refuse to
torture you like this because that is obviously what being here
like this is to you."

It was amazing, Mary thought, the emotions that flew across her
lover's mobile features.  Surprise, hope, pleasure and finally
determination.  

Gerald lifted his eyes back up to hers.  "I want to stay,
Mistress." his voice once again steady.  "It was just the shock
of it hitting me all at once.  I'm okay now.  I'll get used to
being. . " his hand swept down his nude frame, "being like this
in front of all these people."

She absolutely hated the invective and emotion Gerald invested in
the word, "people".  Mary had heard men cursing, using the most
despicable language and epithets, that sounded less vile than the
feeling Gerald invested in that word.  Still, she understood him
and therefore, she understood how he felt about the silently
watching members of the Cabal.  They were, in his view, being
terribly rude and incredibly unkind.  Even though, by Cabal
standards, they were being very courteous and letting her handle
what was obviously a problem.

Gerald had never faced the reality of being a nude slave in
public before.  In the past, in recognition of his private
nature, Mary had always permitted him to wear something in the
Lodge public rooms - usually extra tight biker shorts and a
muscle shirt.  He'd drawn more than his shares of interested and
even lustful looks then, too, but he hadn't been nude.  

Now he was and that made him agonizingly aware of every single
stare.

For a few seconds, she considered getting him back into his biker
shorts, but rejected that.  What she had planned for tomorrow
would lose some of its impact if she let him cover himself. Would
that really matter if he was still too upset tomorrow to even
start the demonstration?  Should she relent?  Take it easier on
him?  

No, she decided, she couldn't.  She had to be able to touch that
vulnerable core inside him if she was going to have any chance of
accomplishing something positive with all this. At least now, he
was open to her.  So, it would be all or nothing.  She really
didn't have much else to lose at this point.  All she could do
was trust in Gerald and hope that her carefully crafted
preparations helped him find his way through the next forty eight
hours.

If he stayed.

"If we stay, this is the way it has to be for you, pet." she
finally answered him.  "This time you aren't here as my favored
submissive friend, granted special privileges and dispensations
from the accepted codes for slave behavior and handling. You are
here as my slave and in accordance with those Cabal codes, you
will be nude almost all of the time. Whether in the privacy of my
suite or when you are out and about the compound.  Whether you
are with me, or when you are on your own.  Make the call,
sweetheart.  What do we do?  Only *you* can make this decision
for us."

Her use of the word "we" did it for him.  The two of them were a
"we", an "us", and he was here because he wanted to help her. 
Mary could almost see the resolve in him become rock firm.  "We
stay, Mistress.  I am going to stay.  I need to stay.  I have to
stay for you, and . . .and for me."

He was going to stay, to try - for her, she exulted silently. A
brilliant smile illuminated Mary's face. "Very nice, Gerry." she
whispered, making her voice softly teasing,  "And if you are very
good little pet, I might even let you get dressed sometime before
we leave.  Wouldn't that be nice, Gerry-boy?"

Her playful, teasing approach helped him, too. She even talked to
him like he was her favorite lap dog.  A tired grin relaxed some
of the tension from his face.  "That would be very nice,
Mistress, thank you."

She stroked his head one more time and then attached a leash to
his collar. Please let it really be nice for him, she prayed
silently.  Let him see it as play and deal with it that way
instead of resisting it. "Thank me tomorrow, dear." If you can
bring yourself to do that after you've been through what I have
planned.  But somehow, Mary just didn't think Gerald's post-scene
feelings would include anything so benign as gratitude.

Enough!, she almost said aloud.  What's done is done, and she
still believed she had embarked on the correct strategy. And he
could always just safe word out at any time when . . .no, dammit
she corrected herself, *if* things got too rough for him.  

Forcing a smile to her lips, Mary motioned Gerald to his feet and
led him quickly up the stairs to her room and away from the
avidly watching eyes.  At least they'd have tonight, and she
would make special memories for them both with what time they
had.  

Later, they both slept the sleep of deep satiation.  Mary even
bent the house rules that night, and let Gerry sleep at the foot
of her bed, cuddled up in her covers instead of on the floor.

End Part 14


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