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From: corvidae1@aol.com (Corvidae1)
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Subject: #16 GRAND FINALE: Nothing Like The Sun pt.16
Date: 10 May 1997 17:19:20 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 Sixteen: Ceremony
Friday, July the Fourth. 
    I stood in the kitchen, my feet wobbling due to the heels, and turned
myself to and fro; checking out how I looked in the full-length mirror
She'd brought downstairs.
   Nicole was there too, ostensibly to help me get prepared, but mostly
she just stood around and said over and over how she "couldn't believe"
what was going on.
   We'd seen a lot of her since their father's death, she came for dinner
two or three times a week; always calling ahead when she was bringing
someone so we would "act normal" and not embarrass her. Still, even in our
"normal" mode I did all the cooking and serving.
    The first few guys she brought over were the sorts of losers Catherine
had told me about, but , shortly before the eve of our big "event," Nicole
came to dinner with a guy I actually knew from high school.  I'd always
remembered him as being a pretty good guy, and you could tell Catherine
agreed, as She treated much more warmly than She had any of the others.
Nicole was really excited to be with him, and for the first time since I'd
met her, there seemed to be a sense of hope in her words, a sense of pride
in her features.
    Unfortunately, knowing the guy like I did, only made what was coming
next all the more awkward and embarrassing.
   Catherine had wanted to do it in June, to capitalize on our four month
anniversary, but that was much too short notice to get everything ready;
and we both agreed it was too soon after the funeral for Nicole to accept
it.
   "This is crazy," Nicole said.
   I looked at her. "Why? Why is it crazy?"
   "I just don't understand."
   I sighed. "Look, maybe there ISN'T anything to understand. This is the
way your sister and I are. This is how we want to live our lives. I mean,
I've seen a lot of 'vanilla' couples in my time, and to be honest, I don't
see where what we do is any more weird or unhealthy than a LOT of the
things they do."
   She nodded glumly, still not quite comfortable with it.
   I returned to looking at myself in the mirror. So far I hadn't really
needed her help, but that would change soon. I'd done the straps at the
tops of my thighs first; making sure the little d-rings went in the back,
then put on the knee pads.  It's been a struggle to pull the calf-length
boots with the six inch spikes onto my legs and lace them up, and that was
as far as I'd gotten.
   The cock cage had gone on the night before, by Mistress' hand. The
little bands came right up to the barbell stuck through my relatively
recent frenum piercing. The rings with the little jingle bells had been
put back into my nipples for the occasion as well.
   Now I asked Nicole to help me with the saddle. It was as light as we
could get, and like the rest of the outfit, had been specially made for
the occasion. There were shoulder straps so I could wear it standing up
or, more importantly, keep it on at a sharp incline with a passenger. The
cold metal stirrups hung against the sides of my thighs, just below the
thigh straps.
   She couldn't bring herself to insert the butt plug, so I had to do that
myself. I slid it in and did up the straps so that only the threaded
socket stuck out of my ass.
   The gloves went on next. Technically, they were gloves as they went on
my arms, though they ended in another pair of high heels. There were grips
inside the shoes for my hands, and I stood patiently as Nicole tightened
up the laces.
   She hesitated before putting the headgear on me. She couldn't look at
me directly, but gazed into my eyes via the mirror.
   "You really love my sister, don't you?"
   "With all my heart."
   She suddenly leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
   The straps went over my head. It was very similar to other devices I'd
worn before, except this time there was a bit gag instead of a ball or
penis, and there were reigns which had to be draped down my back. My eyes
were completely covered.
   Except for the metal parts, the rivets and rings and so forth, the
entire outfit was white. It had been hugely expensive for Her to have it
all made, but She had insisted.
   "I can't think of anyone who's earned the right to wear white more than
you, Michael," She had explained.
   Between the straps of the saddle pulling down on my shoulders, and the
unfamiliar weight of the shoes on my hands, it was hard to get my arms up.
I managed as best I could, and Nicole dropped the wedding gown over me as
best she could. It was from a plus sizes store to accommodate the saddle,
and when she was done zipping it up, Nicole draped the veil over my
already covered face.
   That was it. She was supposed to leave me on my own at that point. I'd
been practicing for weeks, spending a day or two with each new piece of
the outfit as it came in. 
   I heard her walk to the stairs and then go down. Then, carefully taking
the exact number of steps I had measured out for myself, I moved to the
top of the stairs.
   I was supposed to wait for the music to begin before starting down.
Catherine had been coy about just what She'd intended to play. I'd
narrowed it down to my two best guesses: "White Wedding" by Billy Idol, or
perhaps the traditional "Wedding March" played backwards.
   But as the bold blare of trumpets assaulted me, the 'smile' forced upon
my mouth by the bit became a genuine one. The music was "The Throne Room,"
the fanfare that accompanies the final scene of Star Wars. I let the music
sink in for a second, the carefully took my first step down the stairs.
   As I said, I had practiced quite a bit, but the walk down those narrow
steps on those heels was nevertheless still quite a challenge. For one
thing, the train of the dress dragged, and for another I was unable to
steady myself without the use of my hands. The music actually helped me,
though. I knew it by heart and was able to time my steps and establish a
rhythm to my gait.
   I made it to the dungeon floor and took exactly five steps forward,
turned ninety degrees to the left, and then took five more paces straight
ahead. Looking back at the tape, I know I didn't quite hit my mark
exactly, but I was close, and everyone was set up downstairs to give me a
little room for error.
   The music stopped suddenly. I could smell the breath and mingled
perfumes of the guests. There were only two males in the group, Goddess
Caresse's doppleganger (who was as powdered and perfumed as any of the
ladies, if not more) and Nicole's new boyfriend - my old buddy. At the
time I had other things on my mind, but it was hard for me to watch the
tape for a while afterwards; until one day he and I had lunch together and
he told me how "cool" he thought the whole thing had been.
   Lin was there too, and Mandy and Lindsey, and a few other people I
didn't know.
   Mistress was dressed for a day at the hunt. She had on a new, red
jacket with tails and tight, white riding pants. She stepped up to face
me, with Lindsey and Nicole taking up positions at my sides.
   Mistress began to recite the poem She'd written for the occasion,
inspired by one of Her favorite books:                                    
                           
            Across a sea of light, came he to me                          
                   
            With words to touch my soul.                                  
                                         And in the darkness did we first
meet                                                                 And
speak of 'Ultimate Goals.'                                                
        
            Then traveled we together until we came upon tonight;         
                               We came upon tonight...
   At the second "We came upon tonight," Lindsey and Nicole took hold of
my skirt and hiked it up to my waist, exposing my cock. Mistress unscrewed
the barbell and began to careful insert a golden ring through the hole so
that it encircled my penis just beneath the glans. The ring was slightly
smaller in diameter than the width of my cock, and would keep the tip of
it engorged and sensitive from that day onward.
   As She emplaced the ring, She finished Her poem:                       
               
              With this ring I claim him mine.                            
                                             By this ring he minds me.    
                                                        
              With this ring I claim his soul,                            
                            
              And in the darkness bind he.
   With the ring in position, and Her poem completed, I turned around. She
undid the zip on my dress and it fell to the floor in a heap of snowy
lace. Stepping out of that pile was the hardest part of the ritual up to
that point, and then, slowly, gently, I eased myself onto my hands and
knees. Lindsey and Nicole had one more task, to take my legs and bend them
back to my buttocks, hooking up the little clasps that dangled just above
the swell of my heels to the rings that were affixed to the straps around
my thighs. Lastly, Mistress screwed a long "tail" into the socket that
peeked out of my asshole. She took a step back, to allow everyone a good
view of me in my state of total servitude. 
   I swallowed hard, anticipating what was coming next. She hadn't let me
practice this part with Her, so I'd gone out and bought a forty pound bag
of dog food and clomped around with that tied down to the saddle.
   As She settled Her weight down upon me, I began to appreciate how much
of a difference eighty pounds could make. She slipped Her feet into the
stirrups, the bulk of Her weight pressing down over my straining hips;
while I tried to distribute what I could to my unsteady new pair of
"feet."
   For all intents and purposes, the ceremony, at least the public part of
it, had ended. I'd hoped to take off right away to the next "phase," but
She lingered, chatting idly with this person and that. There was a
standing invitation for all the guests to dine at Lin's, all expenses paid
in lieu of a proper "reception," and I kept waiting for everybody to clear
out and take advantage of their free meal.
   By the time the last guest left, I was really straining, my trembling
body bathed in sweat. She picked up the reigns and touched Her heels to my
sides. My eyes bugged out beneath the blindfold. The bitch had spurs!
   Slowly, steadfastly, I began to crawl forward, retracing my steps and
heading for the stairs. She steered me and used Her spurs to pick up the
pace. She jerked back on the reigns hard to indicate the first step.
   Straining mightily, I lifted on "foot" and put it down on the step.
With my second step, I really had to stretch, dragging myself along with
every ounce of strength my upper body possessed. The stairs were so narrow
that my "forelimbs" had climbed up three steps before my knees had to
begin the ascent.
   That was the hardest, heaving and wrenching that first leg onto the
stairs with Mistress' weight bearing down upon it. I grunted loudly with
the effort, but Catherine just applied the spurs again, and I somehow
scraped my remaining knee up onto the step.
   Inch by inch, up the steep incline I crawled. The straps over my
shoulder dug into me mercilessly as Mistress was pulled backwards by the
force of gravity. I began to fear that I might topple backwards and spill
us both down the stairs.
   My entire body was quivering with the strain. Every muscle in my body
was pressed into the effort to scale the steps. My groans became piteous
moans. I'd counted the steps over and over in my previous run-throughs,
but I soon had lost count of where I was. Only the thought of our
destination, and the occasional kiss of the spurs, kept me creeping along.
   Then, suddenly, miraculously, the floor leveled out as we reached the
ground floor. I began to cry, but I still wasn't finished, She jerked the
reigns to the right and I began to crawl towards the short flight of steps
to the upper floor. I hadn't been allowed to climb them in preparation,
but I'd seen them enough. Six steps. Six wide, plushly carpeted steps.
   I was whimpering like a child as I took the first step. Then another.
Then I had to heave my first leg up, then the second. She began to talk to
me. To whisper soothing words of encouragement and sexy promises of what
was to come next.
   I was biting down hard on the bit, every step ripping another agonized
grunt from me.
   And then, again with a wonderful sense of suddenness, we were upstairs.
She had to take a much more active role in guiding me along the hall. I
was on the verge on near collapse as She gave the reigns a sudden, hard
jerk to the right.
   "I love you, Michael," She said.
   Straining, trembling, crying, I crossed over the threshold to Her
bedroom, and took the first step towards our "Ultimate Goal."
    
END OF CHAPTER SIXTEEN

   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"