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From: corvidae1@aol.com (Corvidae1)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: #15 GRAND FINALE: Nothing like The Sun pt.15
Date: 10 May 1997 17:15:50 GMT
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   STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The following story contains scenes of female
domination. Those with moral objections to such activity as well as those
under legal age should not read this story.
   All the characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to
persons living, dead, or undead is completely coincidental. The author
makes no claims about any of the products, movies, artists or children's
stories mentioned in this story, other than they exist and are a part of
our culture at large.  

                             Nothing Like The Sun
                                 By L.Corvidae  
                           Chapter Fifteen: Nicole
Monday
   It was only the second time She'd ever called me at work. This time i
was in and able to take Her call directly.
   "michael," She said, sounding very tense, "I need you to come here and
present yourself to me as soon as possible."
   An infinite number of reasons why She should make such a request
flashed through my mind. Mostly they had to do with Alex and some sort of
revenge on his part.
   It had only been two days since the Gala, and my injuries still looked
pretty awful so Mr. Christian had little objection to letting me go home
early. i found out later that Lindsey had been spreading a story around
the office that the she and i'd been out on a date and i'd saved her from
being mugged. Given the impressive bruise on the side of my head, few of
the guys saw fit to doubt her.
   my heart really began to pound, however, when i saw the unfamiliar car
parked beside Her lawn. It stirred up memories of the incident with Gina.
   Still, She had specifically said, "present yourself" which i took as
meaning in full slave mode, so i went around back and undressed in the mud
room, jumping at every shadow i came across. When i reached the top of the
stairs i had to pause for a moment and catch my breath.  
   Arrogantly fancying myself ready for "anything," i opened the door and
stepped into the hall. There were two sudden gasps of astonishment, only
one of which was my own.
   For the briefest of instants i could've sworn i was seeing double. They
were sitting at opposite ends of the couch and both looking at me
intently.
   Yet, the two women were dressed quite differently, with Mistress in Her
familiar work clothes and Her uncanny double in a short green dress. The
more i looked at the newcomer, the more telling differences i began to
notice. She was thinner than Mistress and looked like she'd be taller
standing up. Her breasts looked almost ridiculously oversized, causing me
to instantly suspect them as being fakes. She wore her dark red hair
differently than Mistress, too, and she looked a few years younger.
   "michael," Mistress said, "this is My sister, Nicole."
   Nicole looked more embarrassed with my naked and battered condition
than i was. "Oh, Jesus!" she said.
   "Nicole, this is My slave, michael."
   "Slave! Christ, Catherine."
   Mistress motioned me forward, and nervously i stepped down into the
living room and approached the couch. i knelt at Mistress' feet and bowed
my head.
   "So... so THIS is what's been more important to you than your own
family?" Nicole asked bitterly.
   "Have a care, Nicole. It's not michael's fault I withdrew, and I won't
have you blaming him. Frankly," Mistress took a deep breath, " it was
because of you."
   "Oh right! Just blame me as always! It's all my fault!" Nicole was
practically in tears. "It's always been my fucking fault, hasn't it!"
   "Stop it!" Mistress snapped. "I'm sick to death of this 'poor
victimized me' shit! You've been doing that since Mother died and I won't
stand for it anymore!"
   i looked from one woman to the other. Mistress stared directly at
Nicole, who could no longer meet Her gaze in return.
   "I didn't even know michael two years ago. I simply got tired of
constantly taking your snide little comments and pitiful attempts to 'show
me up' at every family gathering by parading around your latest hunk of
white trash. As you can see, I've never had trouble finding male
companionship, and your attempts to make me 'jealous' of you would have
been laughable, were they not so sad. It just so happens that the sorts of
men I've been involved with weren't exactly the kind you could bring to
Thanksgiving dinner to meet Nanna."
   "Yeah," Nicole snarled, looking directly at me. "I can see."
   "No you don't. It's precisely BECAUSE of michael that you're here. I'm
sorry it took as long as it did. If..." Mistress' voice broke and Her eyes
began to water up. "If I'd known... I'd..." Her voice trailed off quietly.
Now it was Her turn to look away while Nicole glared.
   "I just think we're going to need each other to get through this,"
Mistress finished softly.
   "Yeah," Nicole growled, "You've always been such a big fucking help!"
   Mistress turned to face Her sister with a look of pure anguish and
shock. "I was ALWAYS there to help you!" She cried.
   "No!" Nicole barked, pointing her finger at Mistress. "You were always
one step ahead! Always stirring up the shit and leaving me behind to
flounder in your wake!"
   Mistress shook Her head sadly, but Nicole continued.
   "Every year, every fucking year, I'd have to go into class and hear the
teacher go on and on about 'how smart Christine was' and what a fucking
'delight' it had been having Christine! And the whole time I knew they
were sizing me up expecting me to be the same fucking genius you were!"
   "That's because I applied myself, damnit!"
   "And the boys... oh Christ! They'd pull my pants down in the cafeteria
of stuff condoms in the vents of my locker and they'd always shout at me
in the halls - 'Hey Nikki is your cunt as frozen solid as your sisters?'"
Spittle flew like venom from her lips as she screamed.
   In a cold, calm voice, Mistress said, "And so you fucked them all to
prove it wasn't. Is that it?"
  Nicole muttered "Fuck you!" and turned to bury her face in the armrest,
sobbing. Mistress sat quietly. She gathered Herself up and began to speak
solemnly.
   "I'm sorry, Nicole." Nicole looked up briefly, then turned away again.
   "I tried to be there for you when Mother died, but I wasn't Mother. I
guess that my mistake was to try and be too much like her. You're right.
After that I got resentful when you rejected my efforts and I lost myself
in other things. I cut you loose. I spend so much time dealing in pain:
easing it... inflicting it," She looked at me pointedly, i looked back
full of questions. "Yet I was oblivious to the pain of the person closest
to me. 
   "No, not oblivious.... I didn't want to see your pain. I blamed you for
bringing it upon yourself and couldn't be bothered to stick with you
because you were pushing me away, even though that's when you needed me
the most." She looked down at me and smiled softly.
   "I've learned better since then. I want you to know all about me. I
want you to understand. I..." She had to stop and gather Her thoughts.
   "I wish I could go back and point to one thing, some childhood trauma,
and say 'That's why I am the way I am!' but I can't. Mother's death, the
fact that Johnny G- was an inadequate lover or that his car smelled like
rotting food... but it doesn't work that way. I've always known, in some
way, that I was... different - even before Mother died. It took me a long
time to get it all together, exactly, and when I did I believed in my
heart that this was something you and Father would NEVER understand, so I
kept it from you.
   "I guess in some ways we all keep certain things private, but this went
beyond just sex, this was about how I wanted to live my life and that made
it hard to talk to you about so many things.
   "In college, I took a class on psychology," She looked at me. "I
learned about a lot of things. My final paper was on Multiple Personality
Disorder. People who have it usually suffered through some kind of heavy
trauma as a child and were unable to deal with it. So, they 'create'
separate personalities, personalities that CAN handle it, that can deal
with a given situation. They're really extensions of the patient's own
personality, aspects of it exaggerated and ultimately developed until they
really are different people.
    "And I thought: What if I could do that? What if I could make three
'Me's', as it were. The good daughter, the efficient student and..." Her
voice trailed off as She paused.
   "And the dominatrix. The sadistic bitch."
   "I mean we ALL do it! We all play different roles in different aspects
of our lives, but I thought if I could separate them, isolate and nurture
each aspect on its own... that I could deal with the demands of each role
without there being so much friction. Only, in the end it created MORE
friction.
   "It created more friction, because, basically, the Domme Catherine was
having a much better time than your sister Catherine was. It was more
rewarding. Neither really interfered with my job as a vet..."
   She caught my eye.
   "I am a doctor of veterinary medicine, michael."
   "i... know, Mistress." She gave me a curious look, but let it slide for
the moment.
   "But together, maintaining all three began to be a drain. So I decided
to shed that Catherine which seemed to be giving me the least rewards and
called for the most effort. I walked away and stopped being a part of the
family."
   She fell silent. For a long time all that could be heard was the sound
of all our breathing, and the occasional jingle and meow from the kitchen
as the cat played with a ball.
   "And then..." Her voice broke, "And then... one day about a year ago,
my life, my carefully constructed and cleverly executed lifestyle... it
all came crashing down around me. And... I... I felt like I had burned all
my bridges with you and there was nowhere I could go. It's kind of funny,
no, ironic I guess is a better word. michael," Nicole looked at me. She
still radiated hostility. "michael has often spoken about how in college
his desire, his NEED not to be alone sent out signals to people, to women,
causing them to stay away from him." She locked Her gaze with Nicole, who
suddenly turned red and looked away.
   "With me," Catherine laughed bitterly, "it was always the opposite. I
liked being left alone. I enjoyed solitude. Yet people seemed to pick up
on this, too, and were DRAWN to it. There was always some boy waiting in
the wings trying to get my attention. I always hated it... until... until
one day there wasn't anybody and I really was alone.
   "No!" She snapped angrily. "I  WASN'T alone! I FELT alone, but I
wasn't. I had my friends at work. They cut me SO much slack, gave me the
time I needed to put myself back together again. It's ironic again that
the one part of my life that mattered least suddenly became the one that
saved me."
   She looked into my eyes, past my eyes, into my soul. She smiled the
purest, most beatific, honest smile i had ever seen. my eyes began to tear
up with emotion. In that moment i loved Her more than life itself. i've
never stopped since.
   "And then I met Michael." Michael. The way She said it.
   "And Michael, slowly, clumsily, and painfully at times," Her eyes
crinkled as She smiled a little wider, "Michael showed me that I can have
it all. That I can be whole. And now I want  to be whole."
   She took Nicole's hand. Nicole was crying.
   "I won't lie, Nikki, and say I was ready for this. I.. I thought I'd
have more time. But I'm close enough, close enough to be ready to show you
this. To try and make you understand, if you'll let me. I am so sorry it
took this long, but you're my sister, and I'm going to...." Catherine
began to cry. "I love you and I'm going to NEED you to get through this."
She took my hand too.
  "Both of you." 
   We all cried together.
* * * *
   The three of us spent a long time like that, crying, consoling,
holding. Then Catherine asked - asked! - me to go downstairs and get
dressed. There was someplace we had to go.
   For the second time in as many days, we went to the hospital. 
   The first visit had been Sunday morning, when the pain from my tailbone
had grown too great for me to ignore. We went to the emergency room and I
had a hell of a time trying to convince the doctors that all I needed
looked at was my butt. Of course I'd forgotten about the bruises and the
little ring hanging down there and was utterly humiliated when they were
discovered.  Even so, the episode was even more stressful for Catherine. I
wasn't "supposed" to know She was a doctor, but Her frustration at leaving
me to the ministrations of others was clear on Her face.
   In the end, all they could do for me was give me some painkillers and
an inflatable doughnut to sit on while the fracture healed. Not that they
didn't WANT to do other things - they badgered me without mercy over
running tests to see if I'd suffered a concussion - but in the end,
between Mistress and I, we managed to get what we came for and leave.
   Now we were returning, albeit via the front, "visitors" entrance. The
ride over had been very quiet, with Nicole still sniffling and Mistress
looking more focused and determined than I could ever remember seeing Her
in any of our "sessions."
   We took the elevator to the fifth floor. Nicole seemed to know her way
around and a few nurses even greeted her by name. We stopped outside a
room and the two women took each other's hands. With an eerie shroud of
silence over us, we entered the room.
   The old man lay in the bed, hooked up to a obscene amount of medical
devices. The laborious rattle of his machine-assisted breathing drowned
out the more familiar beep of the heart monitor.
   His hair was pure white and his face was dark and creased. He had a
good amount of powdery stubble on his craggy cheeks. What little of his
body that could be made out under the sheets looked emaciated.
   Catherine let out a agonized gasp as She looked upon Her father.
   At first, I didn't see any real resemblance, though his advanced
deterioration could account for some of that. But when Catherine cried
out, his eyes, like specks of fresh coal, opened.
   "Katie?" he croaked with cancerous lungs and ravaged throat. "'That
you?"
   At first She couldn't speak, merely nodded, tears streaming down Her
face. She rushed to his side and dropped to Her knees, taking his hand and
crying openly and loudly.  Nicole, still by the doorway with me, began to
sob too.
   "Here, now," he said in a gentle, if gravely, voice. "You stop that,
now."
   Catherine tried to compose Herself, but broke down again in tears. Her
father spoke soothing words, forgiving Her for whatever wrongs She may
have felt she'd done; running his hand through Her hair as best as his
faltering strength could manage.
   After a while, he happened to look up and spot me.
   "Who's this, then?" he asked.
   Catherine lifted Her head up and took a second to gather Herself.
   "Daddy... this is Michael. My... fiancé."
   I'm not sure who was more shocked: me or Nicole.
   Her father, however, seemed to take it in great stride. He smiled,
which softened the effects of disease and age upon his features.
   "'Lo, Michael," he said warmly.
   "Hello, sir," I replied, the sadness of the moment leavened by the
unexpected sincerity of his acceptance.
   "SIR? I like this one," he said, beginning to laugh, though regrettably
it broke down into a tremendous coughing fit. 
   He fought his way back, angry at himself and annoyed by the frantic
concern he's stirred up in his daughters. Finally, waving his arms about,
he said, "Go! Get out for a moment you two! 'Wanna speak to Michael alone
for a second!"
   The women gave me sudden, probing glances. Catherine seemed merely
surprised and curious, while Nicole had that look of jealousy and
resentment in her eyes again. Catherine gave Her father a quick kiss on
the cheek and then the two women left.
   I was still hovering nervously by the door, and the old man made a
motion that I should draw nearer.
   "Ain't catchin' if that's what's worryin' you," he said, trying to
sound good natured about it. "Lessin' you smoke. You smoke, son?"
   "No sir." I said, moving to take the chair by his bedside.
   He nodded. "Smart boy. What... what happened to your head there, son?"
   "Uh... long story."
   He nodded again. "S'okay. So long as it isn't always like that..."
   I couldn't help but smile. "No sir. I'm hoping it's a one time deal."
   "Good. You, uh, you get that over Katie?"
   I thought about that. Finally I nooded and said, "Yeah, kind of."
   His smile grew a little broader. He winked at me.
   "Protectin' her?"
   "Yes."
   "Good. She may not look it, and she sure as anything doesn't ACT it,
but she NEEDS someone to look out for her. The strong ones always do.
She's always been so caught up in taking care of everybody else, never
thinks to look after herself. Always wanted to save the world..." His
voice faded out for a moment and his eyes got a hazy, faraway look to
them.
   "You know? You know that even as a little girl Katie always wanted to
save the world?" He started to chuckle, but stopped at the first sign of
another fit. "Every year, for about five years as I recall, she always
dressed up as the exact same thing for Halloween! Wonder Woman!" He
managed a rheumy laugh. "Can you believe it?"
   I returned his chuckle and his smile with interest. "Oh yeah!"
   We both laughed.
   He didn't say anything for a while after that. Just lay there and
studied me intently. Finally, he broke the silence by saying, "Good." 
   He extended his right hand and I took it. We shook. "Good to meet you,
son. I can tell, you'll be good to my Katie."
   "Yes, sir."
   "All right, you go now and take care of her. Knowing her, she's
probably all busted up inside. You tell her I always believed she'd come
back before it was too late. Meant a lot to me that she did."
   I stood up and headed for the door. "Will do, sir."
   "Oh.. and son?"
   I stopped and turned around. "Yes sir?"
   He sighed. "Katie has her ways and Nikki has hers. She ain't going to
feel right unless she can hover over me and fret until the end, so you
send her back in here, okay?"
   "Yes sir."
   "And, uh, don't tell her I said that, okay?"
   I smiled. "No sir."
   There was a small area by the elevators, just in sight of the nurse's
station, with chairs set up for family and friends to wait. They were
sitting there, huddled together: Nicole a sobbing mess and Catherine
trying Her best to look stoic and strong. I told Nicole her father had
asked for her to stay with him, and then took her seat next to Catherine.
   She was staring off at the floor, but I couldn't guess at what Her eyes
were actually seeing. I put my arm around Her.
   "So..." She began in a voice slowed by introspection and sorrow, "what
did you two talk about?"
   "Hmmm.... a couple of things. Something about Wonder Woman?"
   She laughed out loud.
   "Oh Christ! Not that! Not the 'Katie wants to save the world' routine
again!"
   "Well, I didn't say anything, but I think you really just liked tying
up the boys with your golden lasso!"
   She began to laugh, She began to cry. I pulled Her to me and held Her.
   I noticed a sudden flurry of activity around Her father's room -
doctors and nurses running in and out and held Her even tighter.
   The activity died down and the hairs were standing on end on the back
of my neck, when Nicole stepped out of the room. Her face looked drained
of every drop of blood.
   "Oh God," I whispered softly. Catherine looked up form my chest and saw
Her sister. She got up and walked to her and they embraced, crying for all
they were worth; holding on to one another for dear life. 
* * * *
   Nicole stayed with Catherine for several days after the death of their
father. Catherine didn't say as much, but I got the feeling they needed
some time to be by themselves, and stayed at my dust-covered and ill-kept
apartment.
   I didn't see Catherine again until the visitation on Thursday and then
the funeral on Friday. Sunday afternoon She called my apartment and gave
me a rather curious command, all things considered.
   I was to come to the dungeon and make myself presentable again.
   I had no idea what She was up to, but when I arrived at the house,
Nicole's car was still there. I did as She ordered, stripping down and
putting on my collar. Then I took up a position kneeling at the foot of
the stairs.
   The door opened a few minutes later. I knew better than to look up, but
the sound of two sets of feet descending the staircase was almost too much
for me to ignore. One had the familiar slap of rubber soles, while the
other had a intriguing click that I associated with high heels.
    "Michael," Mistress said, giving me tacit permission to lift my gaze.
My jaw dropped like a stone.
    Mistress was dressed more or less the same as She usually was: black
jeans, black T-shirt and Her favorite pair of old sneaks; but Nicole was
astonishing. Catherine had dressed her in almost the exact same outfit I'd
chosen for Her the night She'd been my "slave." Without any support,
Nicole's ample breasts hung over the top of the waist cincher at an
unnaturally alert angle. Presumably the stockings were new, but they were
identical to the pair Mistress had ruined, and of course, she had the
heels. The one major difference was that Nicole was also wearing a pair of
white cotton panties. Her hair and makeup had been done, too, presenting
me with virtually the exact Domme of so many sub's deepest fantasies.
   The only thing wrong with the picture was the look of unease on
Nicole's face, but Catherine had that oh-so familiar determined look about
Her; and I, for one, knew better than to question Her motives.
    "I want you to greet my sister, Michael," She said. "Properly!"
   I moved forward so suddenly, that Nicole took a step back out of fear.
Catherine caught her arms and held her still.
   I began to thoroughly lick every inch of Nicole's shiny black shoes,
ever so careful not to let my tongue touch her stockings, lest the saliva
make a stain.
    When Mistress was satisfied, She ordered me to get up and walk over to
the suspension bar. I was facing them when I got there, which apparently
was the wrong way; so She barked at me to turn around which I hastily did.

    Nicole came over to me reluctantly; gingerly taking each hand in turn
and cuffing them to the overhead bar. Then she stepped back quickly.
   I heard Mistress pick something up; heard the swoosh of air as She gave
whatever it was a few good swings.
   "Is that... bamboo?" Nicole asked.
   "Rattan," Mistress answered. "Bamboo is too brittle."
   I felt a lump build in my throat. Caning was one of the few things we'd
yet to do.
   "Now hold it like this," Mistress explained, sounding exactly as She
had when She'd taught me racquetball.
   "You best angle is here," She continued; and out of the corner of my
eye I could see Nicole take up a position at my side.
   "Now, just pull back and swing!" As She said "swing" Nicole did just
that, landing a relatively soft blow against the cheeks of my ass. It was
still something of a shock, and I made a slight cry and flinched.
   "Damn!" Nicole shouted and I heard the cane hit the floor.
   "Careful! Got to keep a firm grip or it'll sting your hands like that!"
    "I just... I mean he..."
    "Michael, tell My sister what your safeword is, please."
   "Falcon, Mistress!"
   "Um, why 'Falcon?'"
   Mistress laughed. "Because we saw Star Wars on our first date!"
   "Uh... actually it was The Empire Strikes Back... Mistress!"
   "Is... is he ALLOWED to talk back to you like that?" Nicole asked.
   Catherine sighed. "Only when he's correct."
   "Now," She continued as I could hear the rattle of the cane being
picked off the floor. "Try it again. If he wants you to stop, you now know
what he'll say."
   "Okay," Nicole said uncertainly. Out of my periphery, I could see her
taking up her position again.
   The cane hit my ass again, MUCH harder. I grunted out of pain, but
Nicole ignored me this time, landing another. 
   Three blows, four, five. The pain from the rattan was worse than most
anything else Mistress had used, with the exception of a few of the more
serious whips.
   Six, seven. My ass was starting to glow. I had to shut my eyes.
   Eight, nine. I was grunting loudly with each stroke. Suddenly, I saw
Nicole move in front of me, and before I could say or do anything, she'd
landed a hit right across my testicles.
   I howled in pain and twisted in my manacles. I could see her drawing
back for a second blow, and even as the word 'Falcon' sprang to my lips,
Mistress caught the end of the cane and pulled it out of Her sister's
grasp.
   "Enough." She said.
   Nicole was sweaty and breathing hard, but she didn't look tired.
Instead she was flushed and had that smoldering glimmer in her eyes that I
recognized all too well. Forgetting herself, she slipped one hand to touch
the front of her panties.
   "Oh God," she panted, "Oh Jesus! Now... now what?"
   Mistress entered the field of my vision. She had an exceptionally large
dildo in Her hand and She gave it to Nicole and then took Her sister's
free hand and led her to the den. 
   For a moment as I hung there... well... I'm not sure WHAT I was
thinking, but Mistress came back by Herself a second later.
   "Thank you," She said, running a hand along my chest.
   "Of... of course, Mistress."
   "Oh Ho!" She cried in mock surprise. "ENJOYED that did you?" She leaned
in close. "Maybe you'd like it this way ALL the time - serving both of us,
hmmm? You must be pretty sure of yourself to think you can satisfy two
mistresses, eh Michael? Do you honestly think you can? Is that really what
you'd like?"
   "What I want," I said looking right through Her eyes, "is to please
YOU. The idea of serving both You and Your sister... well... it's
certainly not UNappealing! But I would only WANT it if You so desired." 
   The mockery and attitude lifted from Her features like a morning fog
giving way to the sun. She smiled.
   "I know," She said and, standing on tiptoe, kissed me.
   "And I DON'T want that!" She continued. "For one thing, I don't think I
could bear to see you with another - especially my own sister! You think
I'm competitive with you on the racquetball courts!" She laughed.
   "Besides, I don't think she'd want to anyway. I was surprised when she
went for your balls. I mean, I am sorry she did that, but it also pleased
me, too."
   "You see, Michael," She said with a sigh, "My sister is easily the most
submissive human being I have ever met. I mean, she can be a hellraiser,
but get her with a man and - BOOM! - complete docility!" She shook Her
head wearily. "I love Nicole, but like I said, part of the reason I sort
of dropped out of the family was I just couldn't stand the human excrement
she kept dragging home with her. I mean, these... men - for lack of a
better word - would sit in our house - our father's house! - would sit
around and snap their fingers and expect Nicole to go scurrying around and
fetch them a beer or food or whatever the hell they wanted!
   "I hated that! I hated the way she would eviscerate her sense of self
just to have a vaguely warm body to wake up next to! I think that's why
I've never much cared for female subs: they all remind me, one way or
another, of Nicole.
   "That's why it means so much to me that you let me... you let her do
this. I wanted her to see, I wanted her to understand, to learn that there
are men out there who are willing to sacrifice the power. I mean, I don't
expect her to be shopping from Ataraxia from now on, but maybe, just
maybe, the next time she'll be comfortable SHARING the power with a man,
think twice before giving it all away so easily."
   She dragged Her stepladder over to me. I thought She was going to
release me, but instead She climbed up until we were face to face.
   "Thank you," She said again, and this time REALLY kissed me.
    
END OF CHAPTER FIFTEEN

   Note: Please feel free to E-mail with any constructive criticism.
Flames will be ignored. This story is protected by copyright, 1997, by the
author.   

   Once, I swore I would die for you,
   But I never meant like this.
   I never meant like this.
   No, I never meant like this.

                Stabbing Westward "Shame"