Pampered by Tigger

The only good thing about lengthy separations is reunions.  My Mistress had
been out of town on business for over two weeks.   She is the principal
assistant to the vice president for production at a major industrial concern
in our area.  She had been traveling to resolve several parts supply problems
that had been troubling her company of late.  Although we had not yet
formalized our commitment to one another, we were as tight a pair as any
married or engaged couple that I knew.  Actually, we are far closer than most
of our acquaintances.  

This particular trip had been particularly difficult for us both because it
was the first significantly long separation since we had first met.  Before
this jaunt, her trips had been shorter, lasting maybe one or two days.  My own
business does not require travel.  I was waiting for her at the airport,
reminiscing about our time together.

We were introduced at a party given by my older sister about ten months ago. 
My sister knew Mistress from their college days together and had kept in touch
over the years.  Although she, like my sister, was a few years older than I
and far more successful, we found sufficient common ground and common
interests to pursue a more in depth exploration of each other after the party. 
She was, quite simply, the most striking woman I had ever met.  Notice that I
did not say the most beautiful woman that I had ever met.  That was not how I
perceived her at the time we first laid eyes on one another.  

Victoria, or Tory as she prefers to be called by friends, is a tall, slender
brunette.  She stands an honest five feet ten inches tall in her bare feet. 
Her hair is usually in a tight, but feminine chignon, but it goes down to her
waist when she lets it fall loose in all its glory.  Her figure is feminine,
yet spare.  Her breasts are perfect, small, firm globes that ride high and
proud, her buttocks are muscular from the exercise program she has followed
since high school when she was an outstanding track athlete.  Her legs are
incredible, long and muscular, sleekly going on forever.  I had never
considered myself a leg fancier or fetishist until I met Tory.  Her face is
too strongly featured to be considered classically beautiful.  It is dominated
by a mouth that can be full in a glorious, sun-dimming smile, or thin and hard
in an angry smirk, and by her eyes.  How can I possibly describe those eyes. 
Suffice it to say, that once I looked into her eyes, she became all that was
femininely beautiful to me and I belonged to her.  It was like twin beacons of
green fire blazed across to my soul and marked it hers.

Our early times together were marked by curiously old fashioned courtship
rituals.  I sent flowers, asked for dates, called for her at her apartment,
and took her out for dinner or a movie.  I agonized over my own appearance, my
relative youth and inexperience, my lack of sophistication, and, typical of
the young male, the inadequacy of my car.  We'd go for quiet walks in the park
or along the battery on the waterfront, and we would talk.  She came out to
the country with me to see the farm house fixer upper I had bought.  I had
wanted to own land instead of a quarter acre plot.  She thought the house had
potential, but fell in love with the old barn that stood behind the house. 
She loved walking in the fields and meadows that surrounded the house and
barn.

I'm still not completely sure exactly when it ultimately happened, but I did
not even kiss her until the third or fourth date.  I am sure, however, that
she was the one who initiated that milestone.  On later reflection, that fact
was something of a surprise to me as I had always been pretty successful with
the women that I dated.  I could not remember ever having ended even a first
date without at least a kiss.  With Tory, I felt uncertain, worried that I
would somehow mess up something very important if I blundered.  My car was not
the only thing I was worried about seeming inadequate to this impressive
woman.

As our relationship began to deepen, she initiated discussions about our
dreams, desires, needs, fears and fantasies.  We still had not gone beyond
light petting, kissing and cuddling, and I had not even been out with another
woman since our first date, but we would often talk late into the night about
things that were important to each of us.  I was amazed to learn that Tory
mirrored many of my own fears about our growing relationship only her
perspective was that of an older woman attracting and keeping interested a
younger man.  

It was during another of these discussions, some three or four months after we
met, that I learned of Tory's taste for feminine dominance.  She told me of
Mistress Victoria, her dominant alter ego, who took pleasure in dominating and
testing the tolerance and fortitude of the men she went out with.  Up to this
point in my life, I had not given much consideration to a dominance and
submission relationship and I had most certainly never considered one with me
as other than the dominant partner.  Frankly, her fantasies and desires
frightened and intimidated me.

There was no question in my mind that Tory was telling me what Mistress
Victoria would require of me for our relationship to go any deeper.  I would
have to accept that part of her, feed it and satisfy it.  If I was going to be
the man in her life, and get to share the other good parts of a life together,
I would have to find it in me to challenge Mistress Victoria and to endure her
demands.  I am now ashamed to admit that I left Tory after that particular
date and did not call her again for over a week.  I agonized over the decision
that I had in front of me.  What was I to do, what could I do?  Finally, I
realized that I had to try, the thought of Tory not in my life was far more
frightening than the specter of Mistress Victoria and the unknowns she
represented.

I finally found my courage and called Tory to ask if I could come to her
apartment.  We needed to talk.  She sounded sad and resigned but told me to
come over that evening.

When I arrived, she greeted me in a business power suit, which surprised me. 
She seated me and offered me a drink that I refused.  There was wire-taut
tension in her eyes and mouth, and in the very manner in which she carried her
body.  She put an obviously forced smile on her lips as she squared her
shoulders to face me.  Tory seemed to be girding herself for a blow.  I could
not understand what was going on.

"Well, Matthew, I want to compliment on your guts, anyway.  The last two did
not even have the balls to tell me on the phone.  You at least are doing me
the courtesy of facing me."  Her voice was hard, steely, but it also seemed to
vibrate, almost tremble with suppressed emotion.  I was not the only one who
was upset.

Now I was really confused.  "Tory, I don't know what you are talking about. 
I'm sorry I did not call, but I had demons to face and decisions to make.  I
could not come to you until I had faced those and was ready to make the
commitment you asked for."

Her face went blank and then looked bewildered.  "You mean you're not here to
call me a perverted bitch and tell me to get the hell out of your life?" 
There were now tears starting to well in her eyes, making them shine like
emeralds in the room light.

The light went on.  It all added up, the power suit and full cosmetic armor,
the tension and the formality.  She thought I was saying go to hell, good bye. 
I had to correct that, there and then.  I moved from my chair, to kneel in
front of her.  I took her hands and clasped mine around them and looked into
her eyes.  "Tory, I'm sorry I left you to believe whatever it is you've been
thinking these past days.  I had to come to grips with what you told me."

I smiled wanly up at her.  "You threw me for a loop with your fantasies, lady. 
I don't know if its my inexperience or what, but I have never thought of
myself submissive to a woman.  Even though I consider myself fairly liberated
and modern thinking, that is counter to all that I've grown to think of as my
role in life with the woman in my life.  I've done almost nothing other
than think since I left you last week.

"I don't know if I can be what you say you need, Tory.  I want to be your
husband, I know that much.  Did you know that the original meaning of husband
is 'care giver'?"  She shook her head.  "Me neither.  I looked it up about
half way through the week when I realized that it was what I wanted to be.  I
wanted to be the man that takes care of you."  I squeezed tightly on her
hands.

"You said this was important to you, Tory.  Well, you are important to me. 
I'm a few years younger than you are, and I am not as well established as you
are.  Well, I want to ask you to be my wife, but I can only do that if I'm
sure I can be your husband and that means being sure I can take care of all
that you are.  I think I know Tory, and I know that I love her and can take
care of her.

"But I have to be able to take care of your alter ego, as well."  I took a
deep breath and gathered my courage.  "I don't even know what it is you need
me to do or to be.  I went to an adult book store and bought some books and
magazines to try and learn about what might be required."  I grimaced.  "That
did not give me much encouragement."  Tory started to speak.  I touched a
finger to her lips.  "Let me finish.  I thought a lot about the possibilities,
about the unknowns and about not having you in my life.  Then I thought about
not even trying.

"I have to try."  I shuddered and looked at my feet, then back to her.  "I
don't know if I can stand up to what you want of me.  I know that I cannot if
I don't still have the times like we've shared so far to go with them and to
balance the other.  All I know, is that I have to try and we have to try.  I
love you."

Tory shattered and started crying openly.  She pulled me up to her and into a
hug.  She kissed me and then cried some more.  "You idiot."  She said into my
ear.  "You lovable, wonderful idiot.  Those books are mostly fantasy.  I don't
think anyone can live like that all the time.  Mistress Victoria is an
important part of me.  She can be a very demanding, very strict and very
severe, but for the most part, I am Tory and I want the normal things most
everyone wants.  Love, support, sharing, quiet times like we have shared,
making love and making babies.  Those are the main courses of life.  Its just
that every so often, I need the spicy hotness of S&M, too."

I pulled back from her hug and looked at her.  "I want to be the one who gives
you everything you need, but Mistress Victoria still frightens me.  I have to
meet her; I have to face her.  She's unknown to me as are her demands.  I have
to be honest and tell you that I don't know if am equal to the tests ahead of
us.  For that reason, I cannot ask you to marry me until I know that I am
equal to the task of being everything you need me to be.  I won't have you be
less than you are because of me."  I practically snarled those words with the
emotion of the moment.

Tory returned my sober look, but still did not let go of her hug.  "I assume
that you want to fulfill my needs?  That you want to be what I need?"  I
nodded emphatically, jerkily in the throes of the emotion of the moment.  She
kissed my nose and my lips.  "And that's what I want, too.  I also want to be
the same things for you.  We will work on it, darling, we'll work on it. 
You'll need training, but we'll go slowly.  It's not torture, darling, not
really, although it will often be very painful.  It's always consensual; I
promise never to go beyond your limits.  I may test them, push them, but if I
ever break them, we quit and I will never ask you to submit to me again."  She
pulled out of my arms and took my hand.  "C'mon, let's go to bed.  I haven't
rested in over a week and I won't be able to until we've celebrated our
commitment by making love."

I held back.  "Tory, I haven't rested either, and I want to go to bed with
you, make love with you, but I'm afraid of not pleasing you."  She gave me a
hard searching look and I blushed under her close inspection.  "I, uh, haven't
been to bed with a woman since we met.  Didn't want to be with anyone else but
you, but I don't think I'll have much control tonight."  I blushed to my
hairline.  "Just being with you has me on the hairy edge of cumming I need
and want you so badly."

Her smile lit the room.  "Silly.  I am just as eager for the same reason. 
Besides, you can and will make love to me with more than just your cock.  Both
Mistress Victoria and I will insist on it."  She gave me a thoroughly
feminine, thoroughly evil grin.  "I'll just have an opportunity to teach you a
few of the finer points before she gets to critique and correct your
technique."  With that, she lead me to her bed, and I made love with my love
for the first time.

The announcement of her flight's arrival at the gate shook me from my revery. 
Over the last six months, much had happened.  Her money had helped accelerate
many of the fix-ups that the house at the farm had needed, much to my dismay
and outrage.  But, Tory, told me in no uncertain terms that she was going to
live there, that I wasn't going to get away from her and the place needed work
to be livable,  Good work costs money and she had the money to get the work
done now, not later.  She told me to lose my unproductive macho stereotypes
and get used to a partnership of shared resources and shared responsibilities. 


The barn we discovered, was still structurally sound, but in need of repairs
and a new roof.  Tory paid for both.  Then, she had the workers build a large
livable room in a part of the barn, complete with insulation, heat and
electricity.  I finished the work under the supervision of Mistress Victoria,
converting the twenty by twenty foot enclosure into a dungeon.  Shortly after
the workers had finished, several very heavy cartons arrived at the farm. 
Tory told me not to open them without her okay.  When Mistress Victoria
arrived later that week and had me uncrate them, the devices inside were
strange and threatening to my inexperienced eyes.  Their installation took me
several weekends and errors made along the way were quickly dealt with by the
Mistress Victoria.  Those were my first corrections under her hand and paddle. 
I slept on my stomach those nights.  Tory had not minded, though.  The
missionary position and my tongue still worked just fine.  She later commented
that I seemed even more enthusiastic than usual those nights so the training
must have been doing me some good.

And I was trained.  I learned how to make love without the use of my cock or
my hands.  Paddle and crop reenforced the techniques that gave Mistress the
most pleasure.  I took solace in the fact that Tory also loved the way my
newly trained tongue and lips could pleasure her.  

I learned to accept the use of various punitive implements upon my bare
backside, thighs and back.  Mistress Victoria was particularly fond of the
leather paddle, crop and leather strap, but she also used a rattan cane and a
rubber whip as well.  As Tory had promised, we had gone slowly, although at
the time, it had not seemed so.  Twice, after particularly grueling and severe
sessions, I had been forced to call in sick because I was unable to walk
normally or even to sit down without extreme pain.  The second time, I'd been
forced to go to work since consecutive sick days in excess of two required a
doctor's approval.  I was not very effective at work the rest of that week.  I
had been still unable to play in the dungeon with Mistress Victoria the next
weekend.  

That second time, Tory had been very upset by the extent of my injuries to the
point of not wanting to play anymore for the better part of a month.  I saw
that the tension and unproductive emotion associated with her feelings of
guilt were hurting Tory as much or more than Mistress had hurt me.  Tory
continued to blame and to punish herself for Mistress Victoria's lapse of
control.  Ultimately, I invited Mistress Victoria back to the dungeon.  I was
learning that this type of devotion was as important to the complex woman I
loved as any other of the ways I made love to her.  Tory had been
flabbergasted and rewarded me lovingly later that night.  Mistress had
practically dragged me to the dungeon by my ear yet had been more mischievous
than strict for that session.  Both experiences had been surprisingly
rewarding for me.

I was taught and learned to consider the Mistress Victoria as a separate
person from Tory entirely.  I'm not sure what Tory's and Mistress' motivation
for this was.  It may be that it simplified my interactions with the Mistress. 
When I saw the heavy makeup, the leather fetish clothes, or heard the voice in
the phone say "This is Mistress Victoria.", then I knew the game was afoot. 
My responses were correct for the situation I found myself in.  I suspect it
was a useful training tool for the Mistress and a convenience for Tory.

I maintained the dichotomy in my mind for a totally different reason.  It
helped me deal with the fact that a part of the woman I loved enjoyed hurting
me, had hurt me quite badly and would probably do so again.  It helped me
divorce those negative feelings about the Mistress Victoria from my
interactions with Tory.

And the times with Tory continued to be very good and get better somehow.  I
learned that the true mark of a man is the ability to keep one very special
woman very happy.  The romance that began with our initial courtship grew
stronger everyday.  She taught me to appreciate good wine, to enjoy ballet,
opera and the theater and to act more assertively in our relationship.  The
last one surprised me, but as Tory explained, she could not be, nor did she
want to be, the strong one all the time.  She would need to lean on me
sometimes and I would need to feel I could talk out problems with her.  In
return, I taught her how to drive a nail, how to enjoy a hot dog and a beer
while cheering at the ball park, how to use a computer more efficiently in her
work and how to kick back and enjoy a little peace and quiet.

Now, I was waiting for a session that I was assured would be very demanding. 
The day Tory had left, I awoke to find that Mistress Victoria had left me a
note on my pillow instructing me to be ready when she returned.  She had
called me twice over the last two weeks with specific instructions for the
session.  I wore the bright red french cut panties that Mistress would use to
gauge whether my bottom had been suitably corrected.  I was 'done' when
my skin matched the hue of the panties.  My bottom hurt already just thinking
about the beating to come.  Still, even at this point in my training, I could
not tell which was harder for me, presenting my ass for Mistress' strap, or
covering my ass with the feminine, frilly bits of silk and satin she insisted
that I wear daily as her mark of ownership.  The ego of the young male is
sometimes his greatest weakness.

Her favorite paddle and strap were both laid out in the dungeon next to the
whipping block.  Both implements had been meticulously cleaned with leather
soaps and lovingly waxed by me.  I dusted them again, and then cleaned the
dungeon before leaving for work this morning to ensure that the Mistress would
not have any additional reasons for her corrections.

It was unusual to have a session immediately after one of us returned from a
business trip.  Usually, nights of beautiful love making and reaffirmation of
commitment followed our reunions at the airport.  Tonight, I had been told
that the scene began after Tory had seated herself in our car.  At least I
would be able to kiss her hello and hold her for a few minutes before giving
myself over to Mistress Victoria.

I thought about the engagement ring I had bought while Tory had been gone on a
previous trip.  It was hidden in my dresser, underneath a pile of male
underwear that I was only allowed to wear when there was a requirement for it,
like going to the doctor's office.  Tory never looked in that drawer. 

Then I saw her walking out of the security area.  I reached the security
barricade just as she did and took her garment bag with one hand as I took her
left hand in my other.  I bowed over her hand, like a nineteenth century
courtier bowing to his lady, and gently kissed her fingers as she had taught
me.  This was Tory's and my public concession to Mistress Victoria.  In
public, I could not perform the more intimate greetings the Mistress preferred
without endangering my or Tory's social and business standing.  This old
fashioned form of greeting was, in fact, my formal acknowledgement and
greeting to Mistress.  I then pulled Tory over out of the walking traffic and
hugged her tightly, while kissing her deeply.  She responded to my kiss, but
only hugged me back lightly.

When I looked at her to see if anything was wrong, she seemed tired, withdrawn
and something more I was not familiar with.  I asked her what was the matter. 
She gave me a strange little look.  "I'll tell you later, okay?  Just get me
out of here, please."  She had no other luggage, so we left the terminal, the
loving warmth of Tory, and moved faster than I liked for the confines of my
car, and the cool, demanding severity of the Mistress.

I helped her into the back seat of the car, like the chauffeur I was to
become, put her bag in the trunk and got into the driver's seat.  Girding
myself mentally for what was to come, I looked into the rear view mirror at
the Mistress.  "Mistress, what are your orders?"

She had been staring down at her hands and looked up at me in the mirror with
the same, strange look on her face.  Her voice sounded strange, as well. 
"Take me home to the farm, Matthew.  Please be silent for the remainder of the
trip unless there is something that demands you ask me something.  I will
decide if your reason for speaking is adequate."

"Yes, Mistress."  I drove out of the parking lot, paying the bill and heading
for the main interstate highway out of the city.  Traffic was light as it was
late in the evening.  I drove at the speed limit for two reasons.  One was
that getting a ticket with the Mistress aboard would add to whatever penance I
would serve during the hours to come.  The second was to delay as long as
possible those hours.  Although I had taken what Tory assured me was the worst
I would face with the Mistress (Tory had been frightened the time I had been
forced to go to work because my sick leave had run out), I still did not enjoy
it or look forward to it.  I knew some people enjoyed the intense pain in some
way I could not understand.  I enjoyed Mistress Victoria's and Tory's approval
when I took the corrections and tests well.  I still dreaded the pain to come.

We were nearly home about an hour later when the Mistress spoke to me. 
"Matthew, we will have to postpone the session.  I had a bitch of a trip,
dealing with some of the most pigheaded fools I have ever encountered.  I am
still furious with them.  I cannot correct you while dealing with this kind of
anger.  I might lose control and seriously hurt you.  I know that you have
been preparing for this and are probably as ready as you can be for it, but I
cannot in good conscience raise my hand to you tonight."  I pulled into the
driveway and got out to help Mistress out of the car.  She looked so, I don't
know, fragile isn't the correct word, but her normal aura of strength and
indomitability was not there.  I made a decision.

I followed her into the house, carrying her bag.  When the door closed, I
knelt before her and kissed her left foot as she had trained me.  If I served
her well and pleased her, often my reward was to have her right foot offered
for my kiss.  "Mistress, may I speak?"  I asked from my still kneeling
position.

"Yes, Matthew, what is it?"  Her eyes were quizzical, her face frowning with
surprise.

"Mistress, I can see that you are tired and down from your problems on the
trip.  May I have permission to pamper you tonight?  Let me just take care of
you tonight until you feel better and more yourself."  I saw confusion and
exhaustion in her eyes.  I smiled up at her.  "You could grade my efforts for
later penalties when you're more able to deal with me."

She looked at me with a little, hard smile.  I had never attempted to take any
initiative with the Mistress before.  I'm sure that it was that fact, as much
as anything that intrigued her.  "You realize, Matthew, that Tory is not home,
yet, don't you?"  Our S&M/D&S sessions always ended in the same manner; 
Mistress Victoria left the room where the session occurred and Tory came back
to set me free and take care of any physical hurts I had.  Even the two times
I had been more severely hurt, she had left and returned, although in those
cases, the reason had been to get the first aid kit to treat the bleeding
welts she'd inflicted on my backside.  

She was telling me that the session had not ended.  I knew that and told her
so.  "An excellent concept, slave Matthew.  Proceed with your scene.  I
confess I am curious to see what you think is adequate pampering for your
Mistress."  She tried to look imperious, but the exhaustion I had seen in her
eyes blunted the force of the look.

Having learned that with either of my love's persona, quick action was a
consummation devoutly to be desired, I took over.  I moved her favorite easy
chair directly in front of the living room fire place, took her coat and her
suit coat, and settled her into the chair.  I gave her a snifter of her
favorite brandy and started a cheerful fire.  I asked permission to remove her
shoes and did so, rubbing the arches gently the way I knew from experience
relieved the pain from too much time spent running around in high heels.  I
then gave her shoulders a massage to relax her and to get the kinks out so she
could relax while I worked on phase 2 of my rapidly developing plan.

I was almost ready to leave the room when I looked down at her and was
assailed by the love I felt for this very complex woman.  I think it was the
first time I ever saw Tory and Mistress simultaneously, blurring the line I
had drawn in my mind to separate the woman I loved from the woman who tested
and hurt me.

Spontaneously, without further thought, I knelt at her feet again.  She looked
at me impassively, awaiting what it was I wanted to say.  I don't know which
of us was more surprised at my words.  "Beloved Mistress, may I please worship
you?"  The snifter almost tipped out of her hand as she started at my words. 
I had been taught to ask permission to perform cunnilingus for her during
sessions using the word 'worship', but I had never done so without prompting. 
I had also never called her anything but just 'Mistress'.  She nodded her
consent, a slightly bewildered look on her face.

Gently, I unzipped the side zip of her skirt and slid it down her hosiery
slick legs.  I then started sliding her pantyhose down her gorgeous athletic,
runner's legs.  Uncovering skin, inch by nylon covered inch,  I then covered
each of those inches with a kiss, until the tights slipped off her feet.  I
kissed each of her left toes before moving my mouth back up her legs, reveling
in the scent and taste of her.  I paused to gently tease with lips and tongue,
the very sensitive places just behind each knee and was rewarded by an audible
intake of breath and a shiver of delight.  Mistress was not up to her usual
weight tonight.  I usually had to work much harder to break through her icy
control.

I worked my way to her thighs, paying particular attention to the skin that is
always sensitized by the brush of the other thigh against it as she walked.  I
finally reached the apex, the zenith.  Carefully working around it, I kissed
and laved each square inch of skin before moving to her actual pubic mound.  I
used my tongue as a comb, moving the hairs to one side or the other, framing
the glory of her vagina in a wet, shiny dark wreath.  Throughout this, I
attempted to touch only hair with my tongue, teasing her with the sensation of
the moving, tickling hairs, while delaying the direct probing of her heated
center.

Her nether lips and hard little clitoris were now glowing with her  moisture
in the firelight.  Her excitement grew as her hips started moving, seeking the
solace of direct contact.  I gave her only feathery, sporadic touches around
the her sex, aggravating her need, rather then satisfying it.  One hard buck
of her hips bounced her pubic bone off my nose and I dove for the kill, using
all the skill she had taught me over the months.

She completely lost control.  Her hands reached for my head to clutch my hair
and pull me tighter.  I was suddenly drenched in brandy from the snifter she
still held.  The flavor of the brandy mixed enticingly with her own sweet
essence and I worked even harder to not miss a single delicious drop.  Her
completion came with a scream of delight and triumph.  It was a sound I had
never heard from either of my lady's persona.  Then her hands relaxed on my
hair.  I looked up from the gentle, soothing caresses I was giving her over
stimulated flesh to see that she was asleep.

I covered her with an afghan from the couch and went to her room to prepare
for the next act in my little play.  I drew a hot bath in the tub in the
master bath.  I laid out her cosmetics and toiletries at the makeup stand she
had in the guest room and then located and laid out her favorite nightgown and
robe.  If all went well, she would rest well tonight so that she could
accomplish her goals tomorrow with a fresh perspective.

I went back to my room, stripped off my clothes and changed into a pair of
white panties that seemed to fit the role of a Roman bath better than the red
spanking panties.  Besides, those would need to be clean for what would come
tomorrow.  As I made one last review of my preparations, I did one more thing
before I left the bedroom.

I knelt in front of her and gently shook her awake with her left foot. 
"Mistress"   I called out quietly.  "Mistress, please wake up.  It's time for
the next part."  Her eyes fluttered open and looked down at me, her eyes soft
and warm green.  I saw Tory in those eyes, before the Mistress returned to
control.  

"What is it, Matthew?"  I told her that I was ready to continue with her
pampering and if I might proceed.  "Yes, do so, but first,"  her voice trailed
off.  I thought I had earned some correction and she was looking for a method
to carry it out.  I was wrong. "But first, you kissed everything else, you
should pay respects to my other toes."  He right foot arched up to rest on
my arms.  It was with a surprising amount of joy that I lifted that foot to my
lips and rendered my adoration to Mistress' right foot, the one indicating my
performance had been better than acceptable.

I rose to my feet and scooped her into my arms, carrying her to the guest room
where I had laid out her things.  I undressed her in the light of a single
candle.  I sat her in front of her mirror and gave her a cleansing facial to
remove the cosmetics and to prepare her for bed.  Then I removed the hairpins
from her hair and proceeded to carefully brush it until her hair glowed like
black fire in the candle light.

The bath water temperature was perfect when I settled her into the tub.  I
lucked out.  I love bathing Tory.  It is really one of my favorite things to
do.  It really becomes a combination cleansing and massage as I use the soap
to lubricate her skin so that I deep massage her muscles with out pinching her
skin.  With Tory, of course, it also becomes a prelude to lovemaking so I get
a little creative with my strokes and caresses in the soap.  This however was
Mistress and I did not make physical love with Mistress.  I worshiped her, I
expressed adoration for her and I accepted her, but I only made love with
Tory, so my actions were more circumspect.  Also, I wanted to relax her, not
excite her.

I moved to the head of the tub, behind Mistress, so that I could shampoo her
hair.  As I massaged her scalp with the herbal scented shampoo, she moaned in
sensual relaxation.  For the first time, I realized that I wanted to please
Mistress, in the same manner as I wanted to please Tory.  It was something of
a revelation and not something that had occurred to me before this night.  I
was thinking about this when Mistress spoke.  "Why, Matthew?"

"Why what, Mistress?"

"Why all this effort, tonight, for Mistress Victoria?  At best, in the past,
you have suffered my tests and corrections.  You've accepted me as part of the
woman you love, but you have never done anything for me that was not required
of you.  I'm sure that if Mistress Victoria never returned, you would be
relieved and much happier.  So why this scene?  I told you we would do nothing
tonight.  You could be resting, getting ready for whatever tomorrow brings,
and yet you do this.  I don't understand.  You could have just let me go to
bed and then gone to bed yourself."

I thought about my answer.  "I guess because you seemed so, I don't know,
diminished tonight.  I count on your strength, you know, to ensure that
nothing really bad happens when you have me under your control.  It's one of
the reasons I trust you enough to surrender my well being to you.  Tonight,
you seemed so tired and so wired, I didn't think you would rest.  If you don't
rest, then Tory doesn't either, and I wanted you to relax.  I also object to
the statement that I would be happier if you stayed away.  I would remind you
that I called you back after you stayed away when I couldn't go back to work
that last time.  I did that because I could see that it was hurting you to
stay away, but you were afraid I wouldn't trust you enough to come if you
called.  So I called.

"And maybe, tonight, for the first time, the line separating Mistress Victoria
and Tory in my mind has started to blur.  That's why I asked to worship you. 
You no longer seem quite so separate in my mind's eye.  Worshiping one means
worshiping both and that is what I did.  I worshiped both sides of the woman I
love."  Her sharp intake of breath at this statement was cut short as I
started rinsing her hair.  All conversation stopped in the cascading water.  I
started to massage in the creme rinse.  "Mistress, may I ask a question?"  She
murmured her assent.  She was drifting now.  "What made you so angry?  You
never said."

She gave me a rueful smile.  "The usual good old boy bullshit.  One of the
suppliers continually made crude remarks, another kept trying to pinch me on
the ass and the last one told me that the only sure path to keeping the supply
parts coming was through his bedroom."  I completely lost it as everything
around me seemed to go red.  I jumped away from the tub to go into the hall,
trying to calm the soul deep rage I felt at this outrage directed at my
woman.

I came raging back into the room, screaming.  "Never again, do you hear me,
never again.  The next time you go to one of those assholes, I go with you. 
We'll see how they handle it when I'm there to take care of you.  God damn
jerks, messing around like that with my lady.  Damn you, next time that shit
happens you call me.  I'll be on the next flight. I'll ..."  Soapy water flew
into my eyes cutting off my tirade.  When I'd cleared my eyes, I saw Mistress
looking at me wide eyed and unbelieving.

"That's enough, Matthew.  Although I appreciate the concern, do you really
believe I was not able to handle the situations?  Me?"  She gave me a look of
guarded incredulity at my lack of faith in her powers.

Still not completely mollified, I gave her a hard look.  "In most cases, yes,
you could handle it.  However, in this case, you had to be circumspect. 
Busting a supplier's balls is not a good way to get the parts you need." 
Taking a deep breath to complete the calming process, "Besides, you shouldn't
have to deal with that crap.  Maybe I'll get a job as your combination
secretary/bodyguard."

"I cannot believe you are getting so worked up over a slight to Mistress
Victoria.  This is a night for surprises."

I muttered "yes, isn't it just." under my breath.  "Let me rinse your hair
once more, Mistress, please."  I rinsed her hair and then began to wet comb it
to ensure no tangles formed.  She decided she wanted to have a towel turban
rather than tolerate the noise of an electric hair dryer.  That done, I helped
her from the tub, dried her with a soft bath sheet I bought just for Tory,
then powdered and creamed her before scooping her back into my arms and
carrying her off to the bedroom.

I was something at a loss as to what to do next.  Previously, overnight
sessions with the Mistress had always been active.  I never before had the
occasion to have Mistress sleeping with me or near me.  In the past, sleeping
only occurred after the session had ended and Tory had returned.  Deciding I
would only go as far as invited, I settled her into the turned down bed,
tucked her in, and knelt beside the bed.  I was hoping to be asked to join her
in the bed, again, a surprising thought because I never thought of cuddling or
holding the Mistress. 

Mistress rolled over onto her side to look at me.  Her gaze was unwavering for
several long moments.  She knows that silence is a very powerful weapon in her
hands.  I nearly squirmed like a school boy caught making mischief in grade
school by a much feared, much loved teacher.  Loved?!?  Where did that come
from?  Finally, she broke the silence.  "Well, Matthew.  I have to tell you
that it is no longer your choice.  If you think you have the right to defend
and protect me, your Mistress, well there's only one way I will grant you that
privilege.  You WILL marry me, Matthew.  Me, the Mistress Victoria.  Oh,
you'll get Tory and the soft, loving times you both cherish, but your
commitment is as much to me as to her.  Do you understand me?  You will get me
and everything else that come with me. My strap and torments, my bondages and
crop.  Everything!"  Her voice rose in pitch and volume with each syllable.  I
saw, for the first time, that she was trying to convince herself as much as
she was me.

I smiled at her, using her own trick of silence to gain a little control over
the situation.  When I saw that she was not going to let it go any further, I
did something I had never done before:  I touched the Mistress Victoria
without being told to or given permission to do so.  I rested my index finger
gently against her mouth to keep her from speaking.  I pointed to a gaily
wrapped box beside the bed where I had put it while she was asleep from her
orgasm, and handed it to her.  I indicated that she should open it.  The ring
box came into sight and her eyes flew to mine.

I reached over to open the box in front of her.  "Mistress, Tory, Beloved,
please do me the honor and privilege of being my wife, lover and best friend
for the rest of our days.  If that means that I also get you as my minister of
corrections, well, I guess that is not all bad either."

She pulled the ring out to look at it closely, staring at it from all sides. 
The ring had cost me my entire savings, but it was worth it to see the look in
her eyes.  She shifted her gaze back to me.  "But, why now?  Why ask Mistress? 
It's Tory you love, not me.  Why not share this with the soft loving you want,
instead of like this with a severe corporal session hanging over you?  I know
that you hate that treatment and that you only tolerate it for Tory."

"Because, tonight, I realized that I love you, as well.  I love you in all
your guises.  I couldn't take what I do from Mistress if I did not love you. 
That is, I also love you, the Mistress Victoria.   I wanted you to know that. 
I remembered that I had told you as Tory that I couldn't ask you to marry me
unless I could give you care in all your persona.  I asked you as the Mistress
to marry me so that you could never doubt that all that you are, everything
that makes you who you are, is important to me and loved by me.  Please,
Mistress, please marry me."

She handed me the ring and held out her left hand to me in answer.  I kissed
her hand adoringly as I slid the ring onto her left ring finger.  "With this
ring, I proclaim to the world my extreme good fortune that such a magnificent
woman loves me in all the ways that you do.  Tory and Mistress, Mistress and
Tory, soft and hard, vanilla and spicy hot.  I'll love you always and I'll
always be grateful for everything you've taught and will yet teach me."

"Damn you, Matthew, I should never say this during a session, but I love you. 
I would never have let you get away, you know.  Somehow, I would have kept
you, but I'm so glad you can love me as Mistress Victoria, too."  She reached
over with her left hand, watching the ring glint as she took my chin in her
hand to bring my eyes to hers. "You'll never get away, little man.  For now
and forever, you are mine."  With that she drew me over for a kiss of equals. 
It was the first time I had ever had Mistress kiss me or return my kiss.  She
drew me up onto the bed as her other hand brushed my groin.  My cock was
suddenly rampant in desire for this magnificent woman.  "Excited, are we?" 
she asked with her brows cocked in query. 

"Yes, Mistress, I am very excited.  I love you and it is difficult for that
not to be expressed physically."

"Well, I am exhausted, so I am not going to deal with that little impertinence
right now.  Get into bed, Matthew, I want to be held all night while I dream
of all the wickedly wonderful things I'm going to do to you tomorrow."  I got
into be and pulled the covers up over us.  She rolled into my arms and gave me
a kiss and a hug.  I wasn't sure if it was Mistress or Tory.  Maybe it was
both.  Then she rolled over and scooted her back to my chest as I drew her
close to hold her through the night.  With one last little shift of position,
she brought her tight little buttocks up against the silk covered length of my
still raging hard-on, and gave a little shimmy that almost sent me over the
edge.  The little wretch's nightgown had shifted up around her hips when she
had rolled over.  So now, my dick was wedged along the length of the crack of
her glorious and bare ass.  A thoroughly feminine, thoroughly satisfied giggle
slipped from my love.  "Good night, Matthew."  Another tortuous wiggle. 
"Sweet dreams."

"Same to you, Mistress."  Yes indeed, it probably was both of them, now, no
longer separate or separable.  How was a man supposed to cope with both at
once.  I don't know, but I sure as hell look forward to a life time of
learning.