This is a work of fiction intended for adults. If Female Dominant situations offend you, or do not tickle your erotic bone, please don't read it. May be archived at Fictionmania, StorySite or Nifty. Any other FREE site will please ask me first.

 

Spirited Dominance                  by: Tigger           © 1999, All Rights reserved.

 

"Na-than!" the sultry, normally soft tones were colored with frustration and a touch of anger. "I loved her, too, but she's been gone for three years. You are still alive, damn you, and it is time for you to come out of your blasted cave and start to live again yourself."

Nathan privately wished he had let the answering machine handle this call as he had so many others. One thing about the Huntress Diana, she was relentless once she had decided upon her course of action. At least he knew what she wanted and could deal with that directly.

"Nathan? Are you there?" At his affirming grunt, she pressed on. "Look, you don't have to play. Just come to the party on Saturday. We'd love to have you and besides, I promised Jane's spirit I would look after you that night she . . " Diana's voice broke into a sob. "The night she had her accident."

Maybe she was right, Nathan thought remembering his recent dreams, maybe it was time, but not this Saturday. "Diana, I promise I will come to the next one, but I can't this Saturday - especially not this Saturday."

"*Especially* this Saturday, dammit. Nathan, share this day with us. Let us share the pain with you. Frankly, I think offering yourself up to the whip would be cathartic for you, but at least let those of us who loved you both and love you still be with you."

"I don't want to ruin anyone else's night, Diana. I promise I will come to the next party, but I just can't this weekend." He wondered if he sounded as pitiful as he thought he did and decided that it did not matter - not this time.

"I'll come and spend the night with you." Diana responded. "I will not have you sitting there brooding by yourself."

For the first time, Nathan felt a slight smile curl his mouth. "Diana," he said indulgently. "I may not be active in the group, but I still do read your newsletter. I know that you are First Domme for this party. You are the hostess. You can't fail to attend your own party."

"I'll get someone else to do it. Everything is already set up and done. Any of the other dommes will jump at the chance to lord it over the party without having had to do any of the work. I'll just call . . . "

"Di-an-ah. I will be all right. Let me deal with this in my own way, and I promise I will come out . . how did you put it? From my cave?" He forced a lighter tone into his voice. "I guess I should be glad, at least, that it isn't my closet you accused me of hiding in."

"You promise, Mr. Davis?" and it was definitely the imperious Huntress who was demanding that answer. She never used such formal address except when she was in top mode. "My word of honor, Huntress Diana." he answered with quiet determination.

"I will hold you to that, Nathan. Don't think I won't!" exaggerated menace tingeing each word before warned menacingly. "I have not forgotten how to run an abduction scene," she added glibly.

A warm memory of a time when she and Jane had worked together to bring life to that particular fantasy of a younger, more innocent Nathan Davis. "I am sure you do, dear lady. As I said, you have my word. I just don't know. . . how much I can do or take now. . . . without her to pull it from me and give it to me.

"As much or as little as you want or as you can handle, dear heart. Just let us back in and we'll go from there together."

They ended the call on that high note, each feeling a little better than they had before their talk.

~-----------~

Saturday dawned gray and cold as befit the anniversary of the day when a life had ended and another been forever changed.

As he made preparations for the ceremony he'd planned for that day, Nathan thought again about the recurring dream he'd been having over the past few weeks. Jane had come to him each night in his dreams - she had seemed so real that he hadn't wanted to wake up - just stay forever in that warm surreal world where his lover and Mistress lived again. But dreams end.

Odd about that dream, he mused, Jane seemed so determined to tell him something, but somehow, he just wasn't getting the message. Well, it certainly made going to bed a great deal more inviting than it had been for far too many long lonely months.

He went about his personal ablutions, preparing himself and his body as he had so many times at the direction of Mistress Jane. When he was finally ready, his body was hairless and smooth from his eyebrows to his toes and he was thoroughly cleansed, inside and out.

Nude, he padded through the silent house toward the room that had gone unused for three incredibly long, empty years. Except for his weekly cleaning, it had not changed in all that time, having gone unused since the last time Jane had called him to present himself for her discipline testing. That had been the day before a drunk driver had run a red light only to be stopped by Jane's beloved MGB. The little car's passenger compartment had been crushed like a stepped-on beer can. For months, the only solace Nathan had found had been the young doctor's assurance that she'd been dead before the shock would have passed sufficiently for her mind to register the agony of a shattered body.

With a last bracing breath, he opened the door on Mistress Jane's dungeon. Like the woman who had created it, Jane's dungeon was unique. Bright, airy, sunlit through a series of skylights, the room might have been a Regency England lady's morning room. Except for the standing pillory, the St. Andrew's Cross, the whipping block and Jane's throne, that is.

Jane's throne was an imposing, hand-carved gold-gilt black armchair, upholstered in luxurious red velvet and satin brocade. It stood as the focal point of the room, in its very center between the two armoires that held Jane's toys, fetish attire and restraining devices. A deep-pile, hand-woven rug lay on the floor directly in front of the chair.

Diana was right, Nathan mused, it was time to move on. Hopefully, what he planned this night would give him the closure he needed to begin that redirection of his life.

A friend of his had told him about one exercise she'd done during a grief management seminar. Essentially, what the facilitator had her do was seat herself directly opposite another chair in which she had been told her husband sat. The point of the activity was to give her the opportunity to talk out her hurt, her sadness and yes, her anger at having been left alone. And she was able to say good bye.

Nathan had never had a chance to say good bye.

He set his stage carefully: Jane's favorite black patent leather spike heels where her feet would have rested as she sat upon her throne. Her full-length black satin opera gloves hung neatly over each chair arm and her favorite paddle, crop and dressage whip rested on the seat, leaning decorously against the chair's back.

Finally ready, Nathan strode to his place at the edge of the rug and knelt. His head bowed, Nathan meditated for uncounted minutes. When his mind had cleared, he prostrated himself before her throne and kissed the toe of her left shoe.

*How*, Nathan asked himself, *do you say goodbye to such a woman - to such a vital part of everything that I am?*

"You don't, Nathan." a voice above him said.

A voice Nathan had not heard in three, long years. It couldn't be! "I must be hallucinating, losing my mind." he growled to himself as he moved to rise from his obeisance. "I can't even pretend she's here without my mind playing tricks on me."

The shoe beneath his lips suddenly moved and came to rest pushing down firmly upon his head and holding him down against the rug. "Not so fast, little man." the amused voice said again. "I am not sure you are quite ready to deal with this, so just stay right where you are."

"Mis. . . Mistress JANE??!?" Nathan managed to choke out.

"So it would seem, Mr. Davis." her voice had that slightly mocking, gently amused tone that had always turned his guts to ice.

"But how? If I am not going out of my head, how? I mean, I know you are dead." He again tried to rise, but the pressure on his head continued to hold him face down on the rug.

"Well, I am not precisely sure myself," she said thoughtfully as she stroked his head gently with her toes, "Except it was decided that you need me to help you move on. So, here I am."

"To help me?"

"Yes. You have allowed your grief to prevent you from finding the new love that *should* have been yours two years ago. And since I personally picked her for you, your recalcitrance has really begun to piss me off."

"I. . . I don't understand."

"Obviously, Nate." was the sardonic reply. "I tried doing this the easy way by coming to you in your dreams, but you were so happy to see me, you weren't listening to me. You're going to pay for that inattention, by the way."

Tears were streaming down Nathan's face. If this was a hallucination, he did not want it to end. . . EVER.

A line of fire seared across the long-untrained cheeks of his ass, making him squeal in surprise. "And that is *precisely* the kind of thinking that is pissing me off, Mr. Davis. You have to let me go, dammit, I will *be* there for you when it is your time to pass over. In the meantime, I *refuse* to let you go through the rest of your life like you have the past three. It is a waste of a fine, loving man - of whom there are too damned few in this world to let one wither away alone. Not only that, but it is a pretty poor reflection on my training of you. If you learned nothing else, don't you think living life fully and fearlessly is ultimate lesson of submission?"

"How long?" was all Nathan could get out.

"Until midnight tonight, Cinderfella. You are going to the Grand Ball." The pressure on his head slipped away. "Look up at me, Nathan."

Nathan rose, remaining on his knees and looked up at the chair and saw the well remembered, well loved face of his owner smiling down at him. She seemed almost transparent, ethereal, but it was definitely Mistress Jane Davis.

She leaned over to lift his chin with a gloved finger. "We have a little more than twelve hours to do what must be done, beloved, before the Management calls me back."

"The Management? You mean. . .?" He looked at her in wonder. "Does that mean you went to heaven? Even. . . even being a domme and something of a sadist? And came back?"

"Of course, dear. I never played with anyone who did not compliment my outlook and what we did together was *always* making love in our own special way. Heaven is for those who love. Contrary to what the more close minded want to believe, the Management understands and acknowledges that truth. And of *course* I came back, you lovable idiot. You needed me to set you straight. So here I am - your official Fairy God Domme, all set to whip your sorry ass back into the land of the living."

"Can you really say things like that? I mean, curse like that and get back into heaven?" Nathan knew he was babbling, but how many times did a guy have to deal with the ghost of his lover, wife and owner? No wonder he was all but incoherent.

"Of course I can. The Boss doesn't really care about that stuff. All that really matters is what is inside you. I am still me, darling, and *you* are wasting time again." She stood and walked over to the whipping block. "Now get your butt over here, Mr. Davis. I can tell that I need to exercise the first rule of leadership and get your attention before we can accomplish anything. Besides, you owe a forfeit for ignoring me these past weeks."

How he was supposed to know it had really been here, Nathan had no idea. Did that mean that he had to submit to his dreams? Bemused by that thought, he crawled over to the cushioned, hassock-like device and laid himself over it, positioning his bottom just so for the coming trial.

Magically, restraints appeared, cuffing his wrists and ankles. "One of the advantages of having the Management's support and assistance for this little endeavor. I don't have to do anything more than think of something, at least with regards to you, and it happens. Of course," and Nathan's right buttock flared as Jane's hand landed a hard swat. "Some things should be done the old fashioned way for best effect." A second, equally stinging blow lashed the left cheek. "Get as comfortable as you can in the circumstances, darling. You are going to be here for awhile."

It should have been hellish. Nathan had gone without any corporal training for the last three years. His mind told him that each blow hurt more because his brain didn't have any recent experience to gauge this one by. The session lasted well over an hour, progressing deliberately from hand to paddle to crop to strap and ending with the rattan school cane. Nathan's ass felt like chopped steak sizzling on a barbecue grill - it seemed like Jane had an almost mystic sense of where one more stroke would numb him and where another cut would flash white hot across Nathan's senses - never letting him quite slip away into sub-space.

*Of course it's mystical* he told himself as another swat pumped a fresh spurt of tears down his salted cheeks, *she's a spirit, now.* More than once, he'd started to say his safe word, but each time she gave him that tiny bit of respite he needed to continue.

It should have been hellish, but it was the closest to heaven that Nathan had ever been in his life. It was as if she was burning the grief and negative energy out of him with the furnace she was making of his backside.

And then it was over. The restraints disappeared as magically as they'd appeared, and Nathan felt himself being led back to the throne where he buried his face in Jane's lap and cried his soul out. Jane let him purge himself, content to stroke his hair and murmur wordless endearments.

When Nathan calmed, Jane put her hands on his head and lifted his face to hers. The kiss they shared certainly felt real. "Better, sweet?" Jane asked gently.

A new peace showed in her lover's red rimmed eyes. "Yes, Mistress, thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Now, isn't this position we find ourselves in somewhat evocative?"

Nathan looked down to realize that he was kneeling between her splayed thighs, her sweet pussy winking up at him. Joy flared in him, but he worried that he might have misunderstood. "May I. . . I mean, is that permitted? You being an angel and all?"

"Silly man," she said with loving indulgence, "Let's just say that heaven is a very individual state, dear, and your tongue worshiping me is definitely my idea of heaven right now - so get busy, and be ready to camp out for a while once you get there. It's been a long time for me, too."

He fell upon her like a starving man at a banquet. Whether the taste of her passion or the sound of her whimpers was sweeter, Nathan couldn't begin to say. All that mattered was that he was giving his woman pleasure one more time. As she'd predicted, he did settle in for awhile, loving every second, every lick and every nibble. He should have tired, should have weakened, but he didn't. He lost count of how many times she climaxed, but he filed each one away to savor again after she went back to her heavenly home.

"Enough." she finally said, with just a bit of a quaver in her voice. "We still have to get you ready for the ball, Cinders."

Resting back on his haunches, he looked up at her, all the while still licking taste of her from his lips. "That's the second time you've said that, Mistress. A ball? What's this about a ball?"

"Well, as close as needs be, dearest. I'm talking about tonight's play party."

Joyful anticipation lit Nathan's face. "We're going to the party? That's wonderful, Mistress. Diana will be so happy to see you one last time, too." He refused to think about losing her again - even though he did.

Jane's face became solemn. "No, dear, on two counts. First, *you*, not *we* are going to the play party. Oh, I'll be there, at least until midnight, but no one else will see me or even hear me because I am only here for you."

"Only me? What does that mean? Are you really here or am I really hallucinating? I mean, I can see you, feel you."

"How does your ass feel, darling?" she asked, a brow cocked high in challenge as his hands slipped carefully to his scorching buns. "Some things, Nathan, you simply have to accept on faith."

"I'm going alone? Why? I want to spend every moment I can with you. And you said there were two counts."

"You aren't going alone. I will be there, but only you will know it. Second, you are going because you need to go, and I will be there to help you past any awkwardness or to push you if you try to wimp out. And third, the second count you were wrong about is thinking that I am going to leave you. I will always be with you so long as you love me - right there in your heart and mind. Okay?"

*And I will love you forever and ever, amen. Some things, you simply have to accept on faith,* Nathan repeated in his mind, and then nodded.

"Good. Let's go and check out what is left of my cosmetics in that shrine you turned my bedroom into that is still usable. We have a lot to get done and only," she looked at the large clock, "a few hours before we have to leave for the party. Of course, we have a little extra time since I do want you to make a grand entrance when you walk into Diana's dungeon."

"Makeup, Mistress?" Nathan asked in surprise. Forced femme had never been one of Jane's usual games. In fact, the only times he'd been ordered to cross dress had been once when they'd played with Diana who absolutely loved seeing her boy-subs struggling in heels, corsets and tight, short skirts.

"Makeup, Darling." Jane assured him. "Let's not be foolish and try to pretend that tonight won't be difficult for you. Just going there and facing all that meant to us when I was alive will be bloody hell for you, so I am going to make it as different for you as I possibly can. You're going there in a role completely unlike any that you ever had with or for me. I want this to be so far outside anything in your past experiences that you won't have to deal with any inadvertent memories grabbing you at the wrong moment."

"As Natalie, Mistress?" Nathan asked with a resigned smile on his face.

"You are going to be *sooooo* cute, darling.

~------------~

Cute was *not* how Nathan would have described himself after his phantom Mistress had finished preparing him. He could barely breathe with the corset trying to rearrange his internal organs and he did not even want to think about what was going to happen to him the first time he tried to change direction in the damned skyscraper heels Jane had chosen for him. A perky cap of blond curls outlined his face. Special flesh-toned prosthetics simulated real cleavage in the cups of the corset. Nathan could not quite believe the very strange leather miniskirt that only minimally covered him. It had a wide leather belt at its hem that buckled behind his legs, effectively hobbling him, but that left his entire butt completely bare. Stockings and a collar completed his ensemble.

He wanted to believe he looked like a tall, ungainly caricature of a man in drag, but had to admit he did not. He actually looked like a woman - a very kinky and unusually tall woman - but a woman nonetheless. Jane's cosmetic artistry certainly made him striking, almost pretty; just the face would probably make folks stop and stare even without the bare ass, the simulated boobs and the heels.

At least his ass didn't hurt anymore. Hell, it didn't even show a blemish. If his butt had looked anything like what it had felt after Mistress Jane's corporal session at the block, his ass-cheeks should have looked like grape juice colored hamburger. They didn't, because when she had put her hands on his bottom before she began to dress him, it had been like all the hurt was a liquid that just emptied out of him where she touched him.

Nathan stole another look into the mirror. "I don't have the faintest idea where this stuff came from." he mumbled, his attention still fixed on the tall, reflected figure. "None of these things would fit you, Mistress. Did you buy this for me before. . ." his voice trailed off.

"You can say it, dear." she said amused. "Before I died. Don't worry about it, Nathan. The only thing that keeps being dead from being perfect is that I have to wait for you and you well know that patience is one of my lesser virtues. Now, as to your question, no, all of this was purchased since in the past few months. You'll find the charges on your charge card bills."

Nathan nearly fell as he rounded on his Mistress. "I never bought any of this!" he yelled angrily as he fought to catch himself.

"That's enough of that, young lady!" Jane snapped, moving to support him as he regained his precarious balance. "Just because I made the bruises on your bottom go away doesn't mean I can't give them back if you don't behave. I don't want anyone thinking you can't take a good hiding tonight, but think how a really masterful whipping would feel if I gave you back the after-effects of our little session on the block, but left your bottom looking completely unmarked? Remember *who* you are talking to, Natalie."

Abashed at his gaff, Nathan hung his head and blushed. "Sorry, Mistress. It was just a surprise. This is all just so very hard to deal with. I feel like I am in the middle of some type of surreal painting where everything I know and understand has been bent and skewed."

"That's okay, Pet. Just don't let it happen again." Jane answered more gently. "As for *your* purchases, I bought them for you, Nathan. Actually, they were all gathered today, but because I am here to help you, I can fix certain events in the past so that they are consistent with the role I expect you to play. The records will show you've been accumulating this outfit over the past few months."

"Another guardian angel power from the Management?" Nathan asked.

"Just so." she said equably. "Now, practice walking. Those heels will be hard for you to manage, but I don't want you running away when the going gets tough tonight." Nathan started to say something, but stopped at the challenging look in his lover's eyes. Slowly, he turned and started to move in the unaccustomed heels. Never had he worn anything like those instruments of pedal torture before. Not even when they'd played with Diana. "Toe to heel, Natalie, and swing your hips. Less shoulder swing," Jane coached as Nathan fought to remain upright from one step to the next.

- Swwack!--

Nathan yelped at the sudden attack to his right bottom cheek and instinctively rolled his hip forward to escape. Just as he put his high heel shod foot down, a second, equally sharp stroke landed on his left hip's side. "That's better!" Jane crowed. "Keep that up. And keep your head up, too. Don't watch the floor."

But he didn't keep it up. Another swat cut into Nathan's ass. "I said swing those hips, girl, not your arms! Put them on your hips and strut like a showgirl. You've seen showgirls, haven't you?" He had, but he would never admit it in this situation, so he soon found cuffs encircling his wrists that buckled to rings on the sides of the corset. "There, now you can't move them off your hips. Now *strut*. Shake that bootie, cutie!"

The training lasted over a half hour before Jane was satisfied that he at least had the rudiments down adequately for her purposes. Not perfect, still needing training, but at least he wasn't a danger to himself. As for Nathan, his bright red complexion was at least equal parts exertion and embarrassment from Jane's steady commentary on his performance.

*I can't believe blood isn't streaming down my legs,* Nathan thought as he rubbed his freed, sweaty hands over the smarting mounds of his butt.

"Of course you aren't bleeding" Jane answered with some disgust. "You know very well that I am more skilled than that, and besides, you can't bleed or cut with me unless I want you to."

*She heard my thoughts???*

"Yes, darling. I did, and I will continue to hear them. I am here for you and because of the short time frame I have work with, I have been given access to your every thought, your every emotion, so that I can take care of your needs most efficiently. Now, come along. I have just thought of something that will help you move more daintily. Move now, we don't have much time before we have to leave."

~---------~

Fifteen minutes later, a very gingerly moving Nathan, wearing a belted black raincoat over his feminine attire, escorted his Mistress to the car. Long experience with Jane's preferences had Nathan moving to the passenger door, only to be stopped by an amused Jane.

"You'll have to drive, Natalie, because I can't. I am a ghost, remember? I can't touch physical objects. My hands just pass through such things."

"You touch me." he protested, remembering how much Jane had loved driving his Jaguar.

"I can touch you, darling, and do things for you that you can't do for yourself or that you can't do well enough for my purposes. In everything else, I am a ghost and this is the world of the living." She gave a shrug, but looked just a bit longingly at the steering column of the powerful automobile.

Grumbling at not being able to let her drive, Nathan moved to the driver's side and sat only to jump back out immediately when his weight drove the large buttplug Jane had inserted further into his ass.

"Problems, darling?" Jane asked with a soft giggle.

Nathan frowned but then brightened. "That means you can drive, Mistress. I can't drive safely if I am constantly being distracted by the plug. So the Management will let you drive, right?"

"Nice try, Natalie, but we both know you've driven quite safely while plugged in the past, or I could simply order you to remove it if that becomes truly necessary. It won't, will it?" she challenged dryly. Nathan stared for a moment, but finally shook his head in defeat. "I thought not. Now, get in and drive. If we are late, you'll wear a "spank me" sign for the entire evening."

It was only a short drive to Diana's party, and soon, Nathan was handing Jane out of the car. "Natalie, from this point on, you need to act as if I am not here. No one else will be able to see me or hear me, so you will look very strange if you try to open doors for me or hand me a drink. Got that?"

"Yes, Mistress, but it is going to be very hard - knowing you are there and not giving you your due."

"My due in this case, darling, is for you to go in there and interact with our friends again." With that, Jane clipped a leash onto Nathan's collar and handed the hand-loop to him. "You just carry this. I'll give you a tug now and then when I think you need it. Let's go."

Nathan got inside the old barn easily enough, and deposited his coat with the hat-check-slave, but he balked when it came to entering into the refurbished section that served as the gathering place/dungeon for these get-togethers. A tug on his leash and a stern look from Jane got him over the threshold.

Immediately, it seemed like every head slewed over to where he stood, clutching at his leash and feeling very alone. A six and a half foot-plus-tall person is going to draw attention. A woman, or rather a man dressed as a woman that tall is guaranteed to stop conversation even among as experienced a group as Jane and Nathan's friends.

"Well, don't just stand there, Natalie. Move in and start mixing!" Jane hissed in his ear.

"Mistress. . ." Nathan started to protest, but was cut off when an elegantly turned-out older woman turned to face him.

"Dear," the woman said gently, "Perhaps you might want to not use that address until you are properly introduced and have the right?" Nathan blurted out an apology, but the Domme merely smiled at him and put a finger to his lips. "Not to worry with me, but there are a few sticklers among us who would enjoy giving you a real dressing down for such an uninvited familiarity on the part of an unknown submissive."

The woman then gave Nathan a thorough visual inspection. "My, but aren't you the cutest sissy-sub? If you want to play later, dear, look me up. Maybe we can have some fun together. Now, what did you want to know when you first called me Mistress?"

Nathan was about to stumble over an answer when Jane whispered in his ear again. "Go find Diana, Natalie, and let her know you decided to attend her party, after all. She'll be hurt if she finds out you are here from someone else."

"Have you seen. . . I mean. . do you know where I can find Diana?"

The Domme pointed him in the direction of the main dais and gave him an encouraging pat on the bottom. "Plugged, too, I see. You really did come to play, didn't you?" she said approvingly. "Maybe Diana will let me borrow you if she's the one who asked you to come. Ta, darling. I look forward to seeing you in action."

"Maybe, it would be better, Nathan, if you just think at me when you want to talk to me," Jane chuckled. "Like I said, they can't hear me, but she certainly heard you."

*I'll try, but I will probably mess up,* he thought darkly.

"Don't worry about it. Now, let's go find Diana and give her your leash."

"Give her my LEASH???" Nathan yelped before remembering to think and not speak. *To DIANA??? But that means I am asking to be her sub for the evening.*

"Exactly, Nathan. That's another reason you are rigged out as you are, as a gift to our Diana. I trust Diana and so do you. Remember what I said about how hard tonight could turn out to be for you. You need someone you trust in your first public appearance and Diana will take excellent care of you," She paused before continuing almost under her breath. "For many reasons."

"Did you call me?" A soft, musical voice said from the dais. It was Diana in a curve-hugging purple leather jumpsuit and white kneeboots. The contrast between the jumpsuit and Diana's red locks was almost shocking at first look, but the look suited the petite, porcelain-complectioned Domina. Her incredible blue eyes were looking at him questioningly but without any sign of recognition.

Which suited Nathan just fine. He would have turned and run as far and as fast as he could have managed at that precise moment except for the heels on his feet and Jane's grip on his leash. A sharp tug on the leash and a hard swat to his bare butt launched him forward. "Say something to her, dammit!!" Jane snarled.

"H. h. . hi, Diana," He finally choked out. "Umm. . . it's me. . . Nathan. . ." Another, even harder swat. "I mean, Natalie."

"Nate?" she responded softly as recognition struck. "NATE!!!" she screamed.

"Yes, Diana, it's me."

He'd barely finished his reply when a purple, red and white whirlwind was on him, hugging him fiercely and knocking him off his still uncertain feet. Nathan managed to fall without hurting himself (except for driving that damned plug even deeper) and to shield Diana with his own body on the way down.

"You came!" she said joyfully. "And you even dressed up - very nicely, too," she purred as she stroked the satiny corset. "Does this mean you came to play?"

Nathan glanced up and saw Jane nodding her head vigorously. Still, he wasn't so sure he was quite ready to go that far, even for Jane. "Well, maybe. I wanted to be ready if I got here and it felt right. And I wanted it to be different than it ever had been before."

A soft smile lit Diana's face as she looked down at him before hugging his prone body again. "And how does it feel so far. . .what did you call yourself? Oh yes. How does it feel so far, Natalie?"

Nathan returned the hug - tentatively at first but with more strength as he felt Diana positive response. "Pretty good from where I lay, Diana-the-Huntress."

Laughing, Diana scrambled back to her feet and offered Nathan a hand. "I can tell you aren't all that used to those heels yet. You might have wanted to go a little less extreme your first time out after so long a sabbatical."

Nathan smiled. "I didn't have much choice," he said glancing over at Jane. "They were all I had in the house that fit."

A sharp tug on his leash brought Nathan's attention back to Jane. She gave him a telling look, held up the leash and then turned to look at Diana.

Understanding, Nathan took the leash in both hands and, with great ceremony, extended it towards Diana. "Huntress Diana, I would be very honored if you would hold my leash this night."

Diana reached for the leash but pulled back at the last minute. "I can't play with you very much, Nathan," she said softly. "I am the already the hostess tonight and I just found out that I have to stand in for one of the dungeon master safety monitors who came down with the flu today. You sure you don't want to offer that to someone who would love to give you the attention you deserve?"

"I trust *you*, Diana. I am still feeling . . . well, just a bit fragile. I think I'd like a bit of play, but I don't know where my limits are right now. You know me well enough to help with that. If we can't play, that's okay, too. It won't be the last time."

Nodding her understanding, Diana took the looped end of the leash with great solemnity and dignity. "Then I am honored, Nathan, to hold Natalie's leash tonight." A wicked glint lit the bright green eyes. "Nice to have my own maid tonight to help with the coordinating and the clean up. That reminds me. Why the femmy-sub outfit?"

"Tell her it is for her." Jane demanded.

*For her, Mistress? I did it for you.* Nathan thought loudly.

"And I did it to you for her." Jane said firmly.

"For you, Huntress," Nathan answered. "Because I know you like playing like this." *I just wish I did not feel so uncertain about it.*

The look of pleased wonder on Diana's face did very strange things to Nathan's insides. "Thank you," she whispered, before going up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she repeated, continuing in a brisker, more commanding voice, "Now come along. We have work to do, missy."

The evening was as difficult as Nathan had expected and infinitely better. His bare bottom got a lot of attention from the other attendees and the teasing got a little heavy handed at times, but in every case, Diana was there for him - deflecting the worst away from him.

The Domme who'd met him at the door was introduced to him as Mistress Mita when he'd followed behind Diana as she'd made her rounds of the floor. In a world where many women chose very strong names for the dominant persona, Nathan found the simple "Mita" very unusual, and had said so.

"Honey, when you are truly dominant, you don't need high-sounding names. Folks who really understand, and they are, by the way, the only ones with whom I choose to play, see the power inside me regardless of what I choose to call myself. Besides, I like being called Mita."

Nathan got to experience that power first hand when Diana had needed to go deal with the unhappy aftermath of a public scene that had gone sour. Mita had asked Diana if she might hold Nathan's leash. "Her safeword is "redlight", Mita. Tell her your limits, Natalie. I will be back as soon as I can. You can trust Mistress Mita, dear. She is one of the finest dommes I know."

"Well," Mita said as they watched Diana hustle off into the crowd. "However am I going to live up to that? I know! Come along, dear. Perhaps this will even help Diana by getting those gawkers to come watch us and give her room to work over there."

In short order, Nathan found himself pilloried in an old fashioned neck and wrist stocks. His feet were similarly locked by a stocks set parallel to the ground that locked just above his ankles.

"Dear? I have noticed that you don't yet have a nice girlish voice to go with your other charms." She picked up a long, very flexible paddle and tested its sting against her palm before smiling back up at Nathan. "The idea, Natalie, is that I am going to spank you until you sound suitably girlish. Get it right, and we will quit immediately."

"Somehow, pet," Jane chuckled beside him, "I don't think you're going to get it right very quickly. Looks like you are going to be on display tonight after all, unless you safe word out pretty quickly."

*MISTRESS! As if I would!* Nathan thought was incensed, but before he could say or think anything else, the first whippy smack of the paddle fell across both cheeks of his butt. The yelp he gave out was more in surprise than anything else.

"Oh, you can do better than that, sweetie." Mistress Mita chided cheerfully. "Come now. I know you can't stamp your pretty feet in that ankle stock, but lets hear some nice, femininely pitched outrage."

"Yes, Nathan." Jane cooed, as she rested her elbow on the pillory and smiled down at her lover. "Something sweet and soprano-ish."

Before long, a crowd did begin to form around the visible pair of the threesome. Nathan tried, he really did, but he just couldn't get his voice pitched like the Mistress wanted it. The paddling was not really painful - more warming than anything else - but his ankles were beginning to seriously ache under the stress of not being able to move to ease the strain from the arch of the unusually tall high heels. Grimly, Nathan pressed on.

"Nathan. Safe word. Now!" Jane ordered suddenly.

*Safe word? My bottom isn't hurting, Mistress. I can handle the paddling.*

"I can feel your pain in your feet. If you don't relieve that strain soon, you won't walk away from this scene and Mita will feel awful about it. Now do as I ordered, dammit!"

"Mistress Mita? Redlight! My feet. . .my ankles." he rasped, relieved to have been ordered to do what he'd been silently wishing to do.

Mita was instantly on her knees, freeing his feet and rubbing his ankles. A dungeon master jumped onto the dais to free his upper body. Moments later, he was seated in a hastily provided chair as Mita checked him over. "I am sorry, dear," she said anxiously. "I honestly never thought about your ankles in that stock."

"Not your fault, Mistress. I am not used to wearing these things so it was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.

Mita looked ready to argue with him when Diana pushed her way through the crowd. "Nathan? What happened? Are you all right?" Fear was evident in her voice and in her bearing she moved to hover over Nathan.

He quickly reassured her, telling her what had happened. "Okay, I told you those damned heels were too extreme. Mita, would you help me get them off him? The stockings too since we don't want him getting runs in them on this rough dungeon floor." The words became deed as the two women each took a foot. It would be nice to say that everything was better after that, but in truth, his toes and arches cramped severely once freed from their iron grip.

"Kind of like getting nipple clamps taken off, only worse, eh my love?" Jane asked gently.

*It really hurts, Mistress,* Nathan all but whined in his mind.

"Let Diana take care of you, love," Jane encouraged, "And it will be all better very soon. Just like she's taken care of you so often in the past, if you'll remember."

For a moment, Nathan did not quite know what Jane had meant by that last remark, then it started coming back to him in a rush. Recollections of all the times she had before and of how she was the only one he'd let take care of him.

Diana showing up at the hospital to support him while he dealt with the myriad of paperwork and other issues the night that Jane had died.

Diana taking him home with her after that first ordeal had ended and force-feeding him hot soup and aged brandy.

Diana standing beside him at Jane's graveside.

Diana holding his hand, supporting him and sharing his grief.

Diana bullying him to go back to work and then making sure he got a haircut and a shave before he returned.

Diana dragging him out of his apartment for the odd evening in the world of the living - wanting to take him back to their mutual friends in the scene - but never pushing him beyond what he could deal with.

Diana filling the dark corners of his empty life with what sunshine managed to pierce the gloom around his soul.

Diana kneeling before him, massaging the cramps out of his feet, ignoring the laughably aghast wannabes who thought it beneath her dignity as a dominant woman to "lower" herself to minister to a submissive male in such a manner.

"Is that better, Nathan?" Diana asked, still intent on her task. "Do you need to go see a doctor?"

"I'm fine, Diana," he answered. *Better than just fine, actually."

"Special, isn't she?" Jane asked quietly. "We are both lucky to have someone like her love us, you know."

"I *told* you those things were too extreme, Nathan," Diana groused. "Now, if you are going to do this again, I insist you get something with a lower heel, say two inches tops, until you get used to them. I think I have a pair or two around my dungeon that would fit you if you want to use them."

"Do you, lover? Want to use Diana's shoes, that is?" Jane interjected even as Nathan found himself nodding his thanks to Diana for the offer.

*I think so, Mistress. I have missed this, and with you here tonight, I was able to get by those first awkward moments.*

"Can you walk, Nathan?" Diana asked solicitously.

"I think so, Huntress.," he answered formally.

"All right. I need to be mingling and keeping an eye on things." She picked up his leash again before turning back to the still concerned Mita. "If he can't handle it, would you mind him for me, Mita?"

"You'd let me, Diana? More to the point, you'd let me hold your leash again, Nathan?"

"In a heartbeat, Mistress Mita. Someone who cares that much and who honors my trust the way you did? In a heartbeat!" he assured her as Diana drew him off into the crowd.

Later in life, when Nathan would recall that evening, he would realize just how quiet Jane was for the remainder of the evening. She seemed content to let Diana handle the domming once the petite redhead had his leash firmly back in her grasp. Mostly, she just worked at keeping Natalie in role and at keeping Natalie's hips swinging girlishly even though he was no longer wearing the heels.

Thus it came as a surprise when, after Diana had left him momentarily to go to the ladies room, Nathan realized it was nearly midnight. The thought that he had not spent every moment with Jane nearly brought him to tears.

"Now, none of that. I don't have time to fix your mascara. Don't be sad, Nathan. You did everything I wanted you to do, and you had fun with Diana."

"But, you said you had to leave at midnight. All those hours . . and now I am losing you again!"

"Hush, and remember to think at me. I wanted you to spend tonight with Diana, silly, because she has always loved you and wanted you for her own. She just loved me too much to poach on what she knew was mine. And I think you've figured out, dear heart, that you are in love with her, too."

*Not like I love you, Jane!* he thought back furiously.

"Of course not. You love me differently than you could or should love Diana. We are different women, but just because you love me doesn't mean you can't love her just as deeply. And now that you are out of your cave, you will come to love her that way."

*but. . *

"But nothing. It's all right for you to love her, Nathan." Jane said in a soft, intense voice. "Even your Mistress cannot order you to love her, nor can your wife ask you to love her, but as the woman who loves you, I can and do give you my blessing in loving her and my wishes for you both to share a long and happy life together."

*You. . . you really mean that, don't you, Jane?" he asked in quiet joy.

Jane's smile became blinding in its intensity and joy. "Remember what I told you about heaven being for those who love? I want that for both of you, and after tonight, I am certain that is what's going to happen, if only you will stop fighting and accept joyfully what is there between you right now."

No longer able to hold back, tears went streaming down Nathan's cheeks, leaving tracks of black in their wake. *I'll be there, with you, Jane?* he asked hopefully.

"Both of you will be, dear. Just think, you will have all eternity to love, worship and serve two women who both love you."

*Sounds like heaven, Mistress.*

"Doesn't it?" Jane responded with great satisfaction.

Suddenly, a door appeared in the wall. It opened and dazzlingly beautiful golden light shown forth into the room from what seemed to be an incredibly long stairway. Jane looked up the steps as if listening to something only she could hear. Then she nodded and turned back to face Nathan. "I have to go, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for you." That magical mischievous grin lit her beloved face. "You wouldn't believe the toys you can get in heaven. You'll just love it there, darling."

"I am going to miss you so much, Jane." Nathan said, forgetting again to think at her.

"I know, sweetheart, but that can't be helped. I wouldn't want you not to miss me, but missing me will become less painful when you fill in those empty places with new love." She seemed to float upwards until she was face to face with him, and then kissed him deeply. "That will hold us for as long as it has to, my dear."

The clock in the foyer began to toll midnight. "At least, you don't have to worry about the Jag turning into a pumpkin or your finery turning into rags", she grinned before turning and going into the doorway. Just before she stepped across that threshold, she turned back to face Nathan. "I love you, Nathan, more than life. See you soon, dearest."

As the twelfth chime was dying away, the door closed and disappeared, leaving a smiling, crying Nathan staring at the now blank wall.

"NATHAN!" came a shriek. "WHAT'S WRONG??!?" Diana demanded as she hurried to him. "Why are you crying? Are your feet bothering you again? Or did someone say something to you about you safewording Mita?? I'll kill them. No one hurts what's mine. NO ONE!"

Still smiling through his tears, Nathan turned and knelt before Diana. "It's all right. I am crying because I am so happy, because being here with you is so right."

Diana looked at him dubiously. "You sure that's all?" she asked.

"Almost all." he grinned. "You said I was yours."

All color drained from Diana's face and she tried to step back. "I'm sorry, Nathan. . I mean, it was just a slip. . me holding your leash and all. . .I didn't mean to sound quite so possessive . ."

More at peace than he'd been in years, Nathan smiled up at the momentarily dithering Domina. "It's okay, Diana. In fact, I *liked* the sound of it. . being yours, that is."

Once again, Nathan's mind flew back over the past few years, and remembered all the times she'd been there for him, caring for him, helping him begin to heal. Remembered all the times when he sought her out for the warmth and solace only she seemed able to give him.

Jane was right, he realized, he did love this woman.

"Maybe we could. . .get together and see if that is going to work for us?"

Surprise, shock, pleasure and caution warred for dominance across Diana's mobile features. "Us? Together?" She looked at him kneeling, dressed in his feminine finery, before her and waved a hand to encompass that scene. "Like this?"

"And more, Diana. I love you and I want to be with you and make you happy. Whatever that takes."

Diana shook her head in confusion. "You and me. Together." She pinned Nathan with a hard look. "Cripes, Nathan. Two days ago you were refusing to even come to the party and now you are all but proposing? I don't get it. How could this happen?"

A joyous smile grew on Nathan's streaked face. "My Fairy God Domme happened. I am Cinderfella and you are Mistress Charming?" At Diana's glare, Nathan relented. "I promise to tell you all about it someday, but for now, would you mind if I began courting you?"

"Courting? ME? Nathan, are you sure? You know that I am going to want to be the Domme with you - especially if you are mine."

"Part of the courting, Diana. Instead of flowers and chocolates, I offer myself and my pride for you to use as best pleases you."

"You're serious." she said incredulously. "You are really serious." At his nod, she tackled him again and they wound up hugging on the floor again.

"We have to stop meeting like this, Huntress." Nathan teased when they finally came up for air. "People are talking." he said taking in the crowd gathering around them.

"Let 'em." she growled. "Let 'em drool in envy. Oh, and by the way." she added sternly. "Don't even think about forgetting the flowers and chocolates. I want it *all*."

Nathan leaned up to kiss her nose. "Me, too, dear, me, too. And more than that? I know we'll have it all. My Fairy God Domme told me so, and you know what they say at the end of magical fairy tales, don't you?"

"Happily ever after?"

"Exactly. Happily, FOREVER after."

 

The End

 

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