A Bad Scene, Part 3
by Tigger
Copyright 1996

This is a work of adult fiction, intended for adults who enjoy
stories of this nature, and who read them knowingly within the
existing laws of their locality.  Anyone not meeting all the
above criteria should exit this file, now.


Chapter 5:  Self and Other Confrontations

I left work early and arrived at my apartment exhausted.  Too
much had happened in the last twenty four hours and I had gotten
too little sleep.  Fatigue dulled my senses as I let myself into
the room, so I was shocked when . . .

"DAMN YOU!  You despicable BASTARD."  The Canadian French accent
she had worked so hard to conquer was back.  I spun to see Jeanne
coming at me from the room's only chair.  Fury, hot and tangible,
radiated from her face and then...

>SMACK!<

Her slap caught me full in the cheek, knocking me back against
the door, slamming it shut.   She continued to close on me and
reversed the motion, backhanding my other cheek with another
wicked slap.  Still not satisfied, she was winding up for another
when I finally caught her hands in my own, pulling them to her
sides.  The fight seemed to drain out of her and she leaned
against me.  Cautiously, I relaxed my grip and then pulled her
into my arms - the need to hold and comfort her was too great,
too strong.

"Vera came to see me."  she sobbed out quietly. "You told Vera
things you never shared with me.  How could you let me learn of
things like that from someone else."  Pulling back from my
embrace, she pinned me with her eyes.  "Damn you, Mark, don't you
know that you don't need that control with me... you are
incapable of hurting me. I know that, even if you don't.  And I
hate that you think you need it.  It is like you've built walls
that I can't get through."

She pulled away from me and walked to the other side of the room. 
I wanted to say something, but nothing came.  She turned to face
me again.  "Even when we make love.  I can only touch part of you
- I can never get through that blasted, impenetrable shield of
yours.  What do you think appealed to me about Dominance?  It was
the hope that, as the top, I could orchestrate ways to get all
the way in, if only for a little while.  That maybe, in a scene,
you could trust me that much, if only for just that little while.

Cold fear cut at my soul.  This was it.  "If that is what you
need, then I can't be the one you need.  The Navy has changed me. 
What they taught me can't be untaught.  They made me into a
loaded weapon - one that must always have the safety kept on and
locked.  I can't trust me that much.  I can't take the chance
that I might hurt you."

"Aren't you listening at all?  I told you.  You could never hurt
me - ever!"

I swallowed hard.  "Jeanne, you don't know that.  You don't know
what I have done."

For the first time, her face gentled, and her voice softened. 
"You mean that man you killed on the last mission?  I have known
for years.  Your skipper was afraid of how you would react and he
told me about it." 

Shock rippled through me.  "He could not have.  Not all of it." I
babbled, "No way.  Otherwise you could not discuss it that
casually.

She walked back over to stand in front of me.  When she spoke,
her tone was matter of fact, calm.  "You killed a  man, Mark.  I
regret it, but dammit, that was part of your job, and you are
letting it rob you of your life.  Of our life."

I closed my eyes, not daring to look at her as I told her the
worst of it.  "Jeanne,"  I all but whispered,  "I don't remember
killing him.  I remember Jim going down, taking a round the
terrorist meant for me, and I remember being pulled off the
terrorist with his... oh god... with his head in my hands....
Christ, and I *DON'T* remember any of it!  Now do you understand? 
I blacked out and a man died."

Her hands pulled at my face, demanding that I open my eyes and
look at her. "And you actually think you might do that to me?" 
She shook her head in amazed disbelief. Her face colored with the
return of her anger.  "You fool.  You damned, loving idiot.  You
CAN'T hurt me.  I trust you."

"And I want to trust you, but I do not trust me."

Something snapped in Jeanne.  "You don't trust you?"  she
screamed.  Her hand snapped upward to deliver another head
rocking slap to my face.  "Well, I" another slap connected with
my ear, stunning me. "trust you."  A third slap barely glanced
off my nose before I could grab her hands again and pull them
above her head.  That action brought her face to face with me, no
more than an inch between us.  Shear triumph glittered in her
eyes.  "Hurt me, Mark.  Go ahead and try.  Take your best shot. 
Feel my hand on your face, striking you with a woman's blow.  Are
you going to take that, little man?  Hmmmm?"

Anger, hot and rich, surged through me and my hands tightened on
her wrists before my eyes went wide.  Slowly, with infinite care,
I relaxed my grip and let her hands go free once more.  A little
half smile quirked those beautiful lips upward, and then she spun
to walk back to the room's only chair where she retrieved her
purse.  A little of the old jaunty Jeanne surfaced as she walked
back towards me and the door that still supported my back.

Turning the door handle with one hand, she reached up to cup my
chin with the other as she came up on tiptoe to look me in the
eyes.   "See, my love? Even with that provocation, perhaps the
most humiliating thing a woman can do to a man, striking him as
if he were another woman, you did not strike back at me." She
kissed me lightly on the lips, and then spoke with her mouth
still brushing mine.  "Hell.. you were even being gentle holding
my wrists."  Then she arched into me and fully claimed my mouth
with hers.

Six weeks of emotional starvation flared hunger deep in my guts
and moved to deepen the kiss.  She met me more than half way as
we tried to make up for weeks of deprivation and loneliness in
the passion of that kiss.  

How did I ever think I could live without this... without her?

We were both panting when we stumbled apart from the kiss.  "I
will wait for you at home, Mark.  I love you more than anything. 
I want you in our home and in our bed - with me.  If that means
that those"  she pointed to where the black case with all her
toys still rested on the floor of the apartment, "are never a
part of our lives again, that is what it takes.  Like I told you
earlier.  That's your choice.  But I will have you back, my man. 
You are mine and that is not a choice."

She spun and headed out the door, leaving me staring after her in
amazement.

Chapter 6: Another Almost Day at the Office

I did not sleep at all that night, and it showed the next day at
work.  Well, maybe I was distracted for more reasons than that. 
Over and over my hand went to the spot where her hand had met my
cheek.

A couple of things happened at the office that day that helped
clarify my jumbled thinking.  The first was a call from my
doctor.  The second was a visit from Vera's husband, Ed Saunders. 

He poked his head into my cubicle around 10:30.  "Got a minute,
Mark?"  I had not gotten diddley done that morning, anyway, and
besides, he was my superior in the company food chain so I
agreed.  He led the way to his office and indicated I should take
one of the arm chairs across from his executive desk.  He sat
down in the other after turning it to face me instead of the
desk.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. 
"Vera is really upset about this ...  this fiasco."  His hands
flapped in the air as if to find the right words and pick them
out of the ether.  His face set in determination, he turned again
to face me.  Momentarily, I was thought he might be planning to
fire me to protect him and his wife.  Instead he said, "I owe
you, big time, and I want you to know that I know that.  You had
as much reason to strike out and hurt someone that night as you
are ever likely to have, and you didn't.  You could have hurt
Vera or me that night.  I want to thank you for that."

Whatever I expected, gratitude was not it.  "Don't worry about
it, Mr. Saunders."

"Oh, but I have worried about it.  Rumor of what Vera tried to do
to you could have hurt the two of us badly, both personally and
professionally.  I have been watching you over the past few
weeks.  I am not worried about it anymore, and I am grateful."  I
shrugged diffidently.  He frowned.  "Something is bothering you. 
You are distracted.  Anything you want to talk about?  I promise
you that anything you tell me goes no further and sometimes it
helps to talk things out."  I hesitated, wanting to talk, but
still uncertain and a bit afraid.  It must have shown on my face
because Ed snorted derisively.  "Good God, Mark, what can you
tell me that could be more dangerous to you than what you know
about me and Vera?  I give you my word - Nothing you say goes any
further.  I won't even tell Vera if that is what you want." 

What the hell, I thought.  I need someone to talk to, someone who
won't laugh and who understands where I am and where I have been. 
So, I began, somewhat haltingly, to tell him about Jeanne's
visit, about the meetings, first with Jeanne and then with Vera,
and about the bag.  I told him about my Navy career and about my
fears.  And Ed listened, just listened.  Later, when I had had
the time to consider our talk, I realized that it had been the
first time I had discussed my situation and my fears with someone
who did not try to dismiss them out of hand or to downplay them
as something I had blown out of all proportion.

"I knew you had been a Navy SEAL, but I had never thought about
what that really meant.  I went through Army Ranger School when I
was in the service, so I have an inkling of what you are dealing
with.  I never had to use my training for real before I left the
Army so I never had to deal with what you are trying to cope
with."  He became silent as he considered his next words.  "Well,
I guess it all depends on how good Jeanne's word really is."

I was taken so completely off guard by that unexpected turn of
phrase that I responded without thought. "Golden - Jeanne's
integrity is unquestionable."  I blurted out in my wife's
defense.

Ed smiled gently.  "You say that so confidently, and yet, she
knowingly and purposely did not honor your safeword in a scene in
which she, also knowingly, violated at least one negotiated
limit."

Still confused what one had to do with another, I answered
"That's different."

"Is it?"  Hesitantly, I nodded - "I think so, too.  Then, what
happened that night was a mistake in human judgement, and not an
intentionally harmful act on her part.  A mistake that both of
you can learn from if you can get past the hurt and see it in
that light. So let's ask a couple of questions directly.  If you
go back to her, but leave that black bag behind, will she ever
ask you to play again?"

I knew that answer.  "No.  Her honor and pride run too deeply. 
She will never even touch one of those things again, unless..."
my voice trailed off as what I was about to say crystallized in
my mind.

Ed would not let me drop that and prompted "Unless, what, Mark?"

"Unless I hand that bag to her and tell her it is okay." I
whispered.

Ed nodded.  "That is a very strong belief you have there, my
young friend.  Sounds a whole lot like trust to me. If you can
trust her that way, I would think you can trust her to play by
the rules, particularly if you explain the reasons to her this
time.  The other question is one only you can answer.  Here it
is... having said what you just said, about her pride, about her
personal honor and about how good her word is, do you think she
would ever do something like that again?"

No, she wouldn't, but instead I avoided saying that by asking,
"But what about me?  What about my trusting me?"

"Like I said, you had every reason to strike out at Vera and you
didn't.  Hey, I am not saying you are not dangerous.  You
definitely could be, but I think you sell yourself short and in
doing so, you are giving Jeanne the short shrift, too.  You are a
pretty good guy, Mark."

I had not thought of it in those terms before.  Before I could
think or say more, Ed pressed on.  "You know, Mark, Jeanne did
not come up with that scene on her own. I am positive of that
because what they did to you is almost an instant replay of what
Vera did to me.  Only in my case, it really was something I
actually wanted, but was afraid to admit that to Vera.  Trying
that first bi flight was scary.  I mean, would she stop
respecting me if I admitted that to her?  So, like you, I told
her it was a limit, that I did no want it.  Fortunately, she
knows me and understood that no matter how much I might bluster
or whine, I wanted to have sex with another man.  So she forced
the issue, exactly as Jeanne tried with you.  Only it worked with
me because she removed the only real inhibition I had - her
disapproval.  We retired my safeword that night, but whereas Vera
read me correctly, she completely misread you."

Dumbfounded, I stared at him.  My mouth opened and closed several
times before I could finally get out a choked "You really wanted
that?  With me?"

His smile was rueful, almost wistful.  "You are a rugged, good
looking man and a nice guy.  If it had been consensual or at
least, not non-consensual - yeah, I would have had a helluva good
time making out with you." He sighed and gave me a  self
deprecating grin.   "So, now you have two things on me... my wife
is a dominating, ball busting bitch and I am an admitted cock
sucker."

My eyes went wide as I stuttered  "But, ... but ... but I
wouldn't.... You aren't,... I mean..."  Hell, I didn't know what
I meant.

Ed evidently did, however.  "And that is the reason I told you,
besides the fact that you deserved to know the why of what
happened.  You are not the untrustworthy, vindictive bastard you
seem to believe yourself to be."

Still confused, I tried to pursue the original issue.  "But....
but you did it... You liked it?"

"What?  The sex with another man, or submitting to Vera?" My only
answer was a nod and a shake of my head - an answer as mixed up
as I was.  He laughed easily.  "Both, actually.  The other guy, I
won't tell you who - you know him and it would shock the hell out
of you - he liked it too.  As for subbing to Vera, well, that is
a very important and fulfilling part of my life and love with
her.  Is it always fun?  Far from it.  Especially during some
sessions when her domme-side juices are really running, when she
needs everything I have to give and more.  Some of those scenes
are very tough - physically, mentally and emotionally - but the
payback is indescribable.  She loves me the way she plays me -
with all the intensity she has in her.  I may be the sub, but I
know she all but worships me for the gift of it.  You won't ever
understand that - it is not in you to submit that way.  That is
not bad, it is just the way you are."

"Are you really cutting Vera off over this?  You don't have to,
you know."

A smirk of pure, male self-satisfaction creased Ed's face as he
nodded affirmatively.  Then he brushed it off with a flip of his
hand.  "Oh, it will do her good.  She was getting a little too
sure of herself and of me.  Besides, she is getting very hungry. 
When I do give in, it will be special.  Rough, but memorably
special.  It won't be long, now.  I am missing it, too."

"I don't understand that, other than that you do it because you
love her.  It is why I did it... that and the quid pro quo."

"Loving her should be enough, and heck... there must be something
you want from her.  Quid pro quo?  Sounds like you ought to be
able to work something out.  Oh well.. I have a meeting."

Ed got up to escort me to the door, but then stopped at the door. 
"Take the rest of the day off and think about what you want - for
yourself and for her, from yourself and from her.... you sure as
hell aren't helping anyone staying here."

Ed was right, about several things, but mostly about my not doing
anyone any good moping around the office.  I checked out with the
secretary who covered my office and then left.

I did not go to my car, deciding instead to just walk about for a
while.  I ended up in the park where I happened upon a family - a
mom with a passel of kids all crowding about her, vieing for her
attentions.  Suddenly, a man jumped out from behind a bush,
knocking over two of the kids to get to the mother and then
grabbed her purse before turning to run off.  Instinct and, yes,
rage took over.   The mother was seeing to her kids as I passed
her at a hard sprint after the man who had been willing to hurt
the kids to snatch a purse.  A hot, red haze colored my vision as
I took dead aim on my fleeing quarry.

In shape he was not.  For all my recent problems, I was in
excellent physical condition and there really wasn't any place
for him to hide in the open playing field area of the park.  We
had not gone more than half a mile before I was within grabbing
distance of him.  He felt my presence and threw the purse at me
in a last ditch attempt to escape.  I knocked it aside and kept
coming.  Ten seconds later, he was on the ground with me on top
of him, my fist raised and hard; just itching to smash into his
fearful, tear rivulet-ed face.

His fearful, tear rivulet-ed face.  

And that was it - the rage simply drained out of me.  He was just
a kid.  "Don't hurt me, man.. Oh, god, don't hurt me."  My hand
slowly relaxed and my breath caught as I realized I did not need
to do anything more.  He was down and he was under control.  My
training had worked.  I had taken him down, but in so doing, I
had used only the force necessary - no more, no less.  Even
though I had been as angry as I can ever remember being when I
saw him knock down those children, I had not lost control at the
critical moment.

I pulled him to his feet and, using a hammerlock on his arm to
control him, frog walked him back to the discarded purse and then
back to the woman and her children.  Fortunately, the kids were
all right.  A policeman showed up to take custody of the thief
and to take our statements.

After I saw the family safely to their van, I found a pay phone. 
I needed to make a call.  A very surprised Vera Saunders answered
on the second ring.  She was even more surprised at my request,
but promised to do what she could.  I went back and got my car. 
I needed to pack.  I was going home.

Chapter 7:  Homecoming

Winter nightfalls come early in the country, so it was pitch
black outside when the car pulled into the gravel drive that led
up to the house.  From my perch in the breakfast nook, I could
hear Jeanne's farewell followed by the crunch of gravel as the
car started to leave.

Jeanne entered the house, leaving the hall light on as she headed
into the kitchen.  I watched her, soundlessly, as she first put
away something in the fridge, and then moved purposefully to the
phone.  She picked up the receiver and punched out a number, then
leaned against the counter to wait.  Concern lined her brow as
she listened.  Frowning, she waited and then spoke, "Mark"  she
was calling me, and she had not even had to look up the number. 
"Where *are* you?  You weren't at the office.  I checked.  Where
are you, lover?  I love you, Mark.  Please call.  I want to talk
to you."  She sighed softly as she hung the phone back on the
wall.

She looked so tired, leaning there, with her eyes closed.  I
understood that fatigue of the soul and spirit - I'd lived with
it every day since the night I had left.  Moving into the doorway
to the kitchen, I called out softly, "What do you want to talk
about, sweetheart?"

The look of absolute dumbfounded shock on her face was everything
I had dreamed of over the long, painful weeks.  The only thing
better was the love shining in her eyes as she launched herself
at me.  "Mark!  You're home!"

We hung together, just holding each other for long, uncounted
heartbeats.  Finally, I reluctantly pulled back from her and
looked down into eyes leaking streams of black mascara down her
porcelain cheeks.  I kissed each cheek before whispering "I guess
this means I am welcome?"

"Welcome?  Just try and leave!"  She grabbed my hand and pulled
me into the den.  "Come sit and hold me.  I need to be held.  I
need to hold you."

Over the next hour, not much was said between us, but much was
communicated.  It is hard to talk when your mouth is busy with
other, more pleasurable and important pursuits.  So it came as a
surprise when she broke the peace of our nest on the sofa. 
"Mark, what about your blood pressure?"

"The doc called this morning.  He said it was 'non-clinical',
that as near as he could tell, I just let too much build up and
it spiked on me.  A warning, more or less." I nuzzled her neck -
God but she tasted good.  "Gonna help me heed the warning, luv?"

Her eyes took on the hard determination of the La Diamande Noire. 
"Believe it, Mark.  We will be going to see the Doctor, together. 
I want to hear from *him* what you need to do to stay healthy.  I
plan to keep you around for a long time."

Happily, I nuzzled her again making her shudder deliciously. "The
appointment is tomorrow afternoon, darlin'.  We're a team, and I
figured your iron will is just what I need to keep me on the
straight and narrow."

Her eyes came up to meet hesitantly meet mine.  "Thank you, Mark. 
I love you and I will do anything to keep you.  I want you to
know that because I mean it more than anything."

"I love you, too, Jeanne, more than anything."  The clock struck
ten, and its tolling reminded my body how tired it was.  "Jeanne,
will you sleep with me, tonight?  We don't have to make love if
you aren't ready, but I really want to wake up with you next to
me every morning for the rest of our lives."

Dark mischief flashed in her jewel bright eyes.  "Oh, you will
sleep in my bed tonight, but I will be very disappointed in you
if I don't get loved, little man."  The words were out of her
mouth before she realized how they sounded;  the inflection was
pure Mistress Jeanne.  Her eyes dropped away.  "I mean, ..."  she
faltered again.  "Dammit, Mark, I meant that I want to make love
to you and with you.  I wasn't trying to order you."

I stood, lifting her into my arms.  I pecked a kiss onto the tip
of her nose.  "I know, love, and there is nothing I would like
better than to reaffirm our love together, tonight."  I grinned
at her.  "And I will do my best not to disappoint you."

She kissed me hard. "As long as you are with me and love me, you
can't disappoint me, Mark.  I am sorry I pushed so hard.  I hope
you will find a way to let me in more.  Maybe counseling.  Now
that I know what is at the heart of that control of yours, maybe
we can talk it out and work with it."

I carried her up the stairs and set her on her feet at our
bedroom door.  "Whatever it takes, darlin'.  I want to share
everything with you.  I want no walls between us, particularly no
walls of my own making."  I put my hand on the door handle to
forestall her reaching for it.  "You have not asked about
Mistress Jeanne or the black bag?"  My inflection made it a
question.

"And I am not going to, Mark.  I let Vera talk me into something
I knew was wrong, but it was still my responsibility.  She would
not have been there if I had not negotiated with you to let her
play with us.  I would never have even thought of violating your
limit or trying to dissuade you from using your code word without
her suggesting it.  *But*, I was the top you bottomed with, and
it was my responsibility, my failing.  I told you that I would
not do that without your permission, and I won't.  It is and will
remain your decision alone."

"You mean that, don't you?"  I said wonderingly.  Vera had been
right when she said dominance and submission were part of Jeanne
now, and yet, here she was.  Offering to give it up. . . for me. 
I felt incredibly exalted, and incredibly humbled.

"No hints.  No wheedling.  No little incentives.  It is your
decision, Mark, and yours alone."

My heart overflowing, I took her hand in mine and opened the
door.  For the second time that night, I had the utter
satisfaction of seeing her mouth drop in shock and amazement. 
Stiffly, she walked into our bedroom and stared in disbelief at
the display I had worked most of the afternoon to complete.  The
door to our closet was open, revealing a newly installed closet
organizer.  All her toys, the whips, crops and paddles, her
dildos and her harnesses, the cuffs and the collars, all of them
were displayed proudly in the various nooks and crannies.  Her
black outfits and fetish outfits hung in the section of the
closet newly dedicated to this beloved aspect of my beloved wife. 
"Mark?"  her questioning, uncertain voice drew my name across
multiple syllables.

"Welcome back, Mistress-darling.  Of course, we need to visit the
leather shop.  I think your toys are a little too mean for your
sweet tush, but you will see that I left room for my toys, too."

Jeanne had moved into the closet and was running her hands over
the toys and clothes, inspecting the various pukka's and hidey-holes of the organizer.  She turned, surprise rippling from her.
"Your toys?  My tush?"  

I grinned.  "Yeah.  Quid pro quo is back in style, love.  That
and inviolate safe words like we discussed last night at the
apartment, but if we play, we both play both sides."

She came over to me and hugged me hard.  "That is a very big
change, Mark.  You never wanted to top me, before."

"I was afraid to top you, sweet.  That is a big difference. 
Actually, I still am a little afraid and I am gonna go slow
getting into this, but I want to try.  Some things have happened
- today mostly - and I am not as afraid as I was before.  Anyway,
there are some things I have always wondered about.  Like how
long I can keep you aroused without letting *you* climax, or how
often I can force you to cum before you beg me to stop, or how
those cute, boyish little buns of yours would feel, all red hot
and twitchy over my knee, after I have spanked you."

"Boyish?"  Her eyebrow lifted in challenge as she jutted that
very feminine ass out for my inspection.  I only grinned.  Then
her eyes went dark and she went up on tiptoe, her lips tickling
at my ear.  Mark?"  her voice was thready, barely above a
whisper.

"Yes, sweetheart?"  My own voice cracked as her breathing sents
shivers down my spine.

"Make love with me.  Please."  She wrapped her arms around my
neck and pulled me to her mouth.  "NOW!" her voice as urgent as
her kiss.

Our loving was furious, our hunger for each other ravenous.  We
barely made it to the bed in our mutual need. Our clothes would
have to be relegated to the rag bag as we all but shredded them
in our haste to be skin to skin.  

I don't think I have ever been closer to another human being than
I was to Jeanne during that brief (very brief) loving.  It was
like something in me shattered when she took me in her hand and
guided me into her.  When she began to climax, she carried me
with her, swirling into a special place of shimmering light, and
warm, sheltering dark.

a long time later, Jeanne shifted beneath me and I tried to pull
away.  Her arms and legs locked around me to hold me firmly on
top of her.  "Stay right where you are.  I like it and I have
missed having you there, having you inside me."  She moved
slightly to redistribute my weight, and then settled against me
with a happy sigh.  "Mark?"  I grunted an answer.  "You said that
things happened today that changed how you felt, that made you
less afraid?"  Another, somewhat affirmative grunt.  Couldn't she
tell I was glowing?  "Will you tell me what happened?"  I
pretended to be asleep. 

A stinging flash of pain in above my breast brought my eyes
snapping open.  The little witch had twisted a pinch of my hair. 
"Speak, Mark.  You obviously don't want to tell me if you are
gonna pull that lame snoring act - give!" she ordered, a teasing
lilt to her voice.

So I told her about the talk with Ed and his revelations
concerning Vera and his life together.  And then I told her about
the purse snatcher and the family in the park.  I told her about
how, after taking the kid down, the rage had not caused me to
hurt when there was no need.  I had faced my worst fears, and I
had won.  After I finished my tale to a strangely silent Jeanne,
I waited patiently for her to praise me, to coo over me and tell
me how wonderful I was to save that woman so very bravely.

I should have known better.

My head exploded as twin fistfuls of hair nearly got ripped from
each side of my scalp.  "Damn you, Mark!"  she screamed as she
shook my head back and forth in front of hers.  "Don't you ever
do anything so stupid again.  You did not need to chase that kid
down.  You could have gotten your stupid ass hurt and that ass is
mine, you idiot!  You remember that in the future or I will use
those to help you remember who owns those" she jerked her head in
the direction of the still open closet and the implements that
hung in there, "sweet little cheeks.  You hear me, little man?"

Bemused, I heard and felt, probably for the first time, the love
and fear beneath the Mistress Jeanne's authoritative tones, angry
words and furious face.  It was better than mere praise.  "I hear
you, love, I hear you."  I bent down to kiss that angry mouth,
gently coaxing it with my tongue and lips until she melted
against me again.  To my surprise, I was erect and ready again,
and still sheathed within her.  Her breath caught in aroused
wonder as I started again to worship her body and her with my
body and with my soul.  Nipping at her ears, I whispered "I hear
you, love and I love you, too."

We napped for a short time after that second lovemaking.  I awoke
to find Jeanne on the phone.  Turning over toward her, I yawned. 
"Love, it is after midnight."  She grinned and hung up the phone. 
"Who were you talking to?"

"I wanted to talk to Vera and tell her that your plan worked."

"My plan?"  I said with all the innocence I could muster.

"Your plan, darling man.  If I had not been so down, I would have
wondered about Vera showing up on my doorstep and dragging me off
on an impromptu shopping trip.  Vera hates shopping, unless she
is looking for sexy new toys.  And we weren't doing that 'cause I
would not go."

Acknowledging her point, I asked "What did she say?"

A sexy smirk on her face.  "Nothing.  I talked to Ed, instead. 
He told me, and I quote, that "Vera is just a little tied up
right now."  a bubble of laughter sparkled up from her.

Quirking an eyebrow at her, "'a little tied up'?  You don't
think. . ."  I left the question hanging.

Jeanne nodded as she tumbled into my arms.  "Exactly.  I am not
the only domme whose subbie has decided to show his Mistress the
other side of the paddle."  With a sudden squirm, Jeanne slid
herself over my lap, her gorgeous ass turned up at me.  She gave
a delightful little wiggle that started to reawaken my groin
while making her butt look even more sexy.  "Wanna test drive the
equipment, lover?  Even if they are 'boyish'?"  She grabbed my
wrist and pulled my hand to cup her cheeks.  "A nice bun warming
just might light the spark for another go, don't you think?"

>>Swat<<  I brought my hand down to splat her a good one,
eliciting a happy squeal from her.  "Just so, sweetheart.  Just
so, and tomorrow night, it will be my turn, right?"

"If you say so, lover.  Only if you say so."  

I did say so.