Tyrone is a highly skilled and very talented theater actor. Unfortunately, he is also broke, out of work, near eviction from his crappy apartment, and too short for the type of leading role worthy of his talent. Just when he's on the brink of being forced to give up, his best friend comes to him with a very unusual acting opportunity. He might even make some money on the deal.

by Tigger

 

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Image Credits: Images purchased and licensed for use from 123rf.com

12382038 and

6193002. The models in these images are in no way connected with this story nor supports nor conveys the issues and situations brought up within the story. The models are solely used for the representation of looks of the main character of this particular story. ~Sephrena.

Legalities: Archiving and reposting of this story *unchanged* is permitted provided that: 1) You must have contacted the author, Tigger, and have asked permission first and received said permission to host this particular work. 2) No fee be charged, either directly or indirectly (this includes so-called "adult checks") or any form of barter or monetary transfers in order to access viewing this work *and* (3) PROVIDED that this disclaimer, all author notes, legalities and attribution to the original author are contained unchanged within the work. 4) The author of this work, Tigger, must be provided free account access at all times the work is hosted in order to modify or remove this work at his sole discretion.

This work is the copyrighted material of the respective author. ~Tigger

Cautionary Notes: This is a love story with Female Dominant, Male Dominant, TV Dominant, Female Submissive, Male Submissive, TV Submissive themes. It is not 'Forced Femme' so much as 'Strongly Urged and Gently Manipulated Femme.' These are necessary to the story I want to tell, but I hope, as with my earlier story, "Contract Modifications," that most readers will not find these elements of theme too distressing.

I consider this tale to be a 'Hard-R' in rating as due to the love/sexual scenes and due to some hard language. In truth, however, it is not much more graphic than most bodice-ripper romances available at your local book-store so I feel that an 'X' rating is inappropriate. It does, as noted above, feature Dominance and Submission themes, so the reader should take that into consideration when deciding to read this tale. ~Tigger

Acknowledgments: My sincere thanks to Brandy Dewinter for the gifts of her creativity, her insight, her eye for 'just the right word' (and just the wrong one of mine) and her, ummm, persistence. I can say without qualm that there were many times when I was about to take this story in a direction I did not want it to go because my characters were getting out of hand. In each case, she helped me see the problem and helped me rein them in. Not an easy task because, as I hope you'll see, ShaJuana Price is a lady who is VERY determined to go and get her own way! So it took BOTH of us to keep her in line! My muse and I thank you, Brandy!

Special thanks to the TG-Fiction Listserv community who read this tale in its pre-publication form and provided me with feedback, editing help and encouragement. At some point in every writing project, it becomes impossible for me to read what I wrote because I 'see' what I thought I wrote. Any remaining errors are mine, probably because I wrongly thought my way was better than those recommended by my 'beta-testers'. ~Tigger
 

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Part III
 
 
Chapter 18: My Love is Nothing Like the Sun...
 
 
The assembled guests followed her to the dais as if she were the Pied Piper and they were the children, Solange thought, amused. She picked up her microphone and turned toward them. "We have had some kind of failure in my video system. I don't know what thingamie broke, but basically what it means is that we can't watch the challenge scenes because those feeds can only go one place until it gets fixed. I've decided that my Dungeon Master Mistresses need to see what's happening in those rooms more than we do."

There were murmurs of agreement and consolation from the audience. "Thanks for your understanding. I'm sad about that, too, but at least we can watch the last of our contestants go for the prize!" she said as she made a grand gesture to the screen behind her. It flickered once, and then settled once again on to the split view of the two entry points into the Hall of Horrors.

"Our Mistress in this competition, dressed as Boris Badenov's fellow Potsylvanian spy and helper, Natasha Fatale, is our own Mistress Betina!" There was a smattering of applause, and then she pointed to the other side of the monitor. "Her opponent is Mr. Victor Davis. Since two of our Mistresses have already lost, We thought about putting a squirrel tail or moose antlers on him to help motivate Natasha, but we couldn't find any in time."

There was general laughter, but Solange didn't want to wait any longer. She needed to get this last one started! "Mistress Betina, you may enter the Hall!"

Betina, made a pistol with her index finger and thumb, and grinned as she 'shot' it at Davis. Then, she disappeared through the curtains.

"Mr. Davis! "On the count of three, you will enter the Hall and the clock will start!" Solange called out, and took a deep breath as she watched him slip through the curtains.

At least they were out of the main ballroom, Walter thought. Almost all of the guests were listening to La Maitresse, and there were none of the large screen televisions in this part of the ballroom to bring them here when the last guy's contest started.

Head Mistress Marie led him to a furniture grouping evidently intended to be a quiet, conversation area. She stood him directly behind one of the heavy, overstuffed chairs, so that his bare belly was brushing up against it. "Bend over the back of that chair!" she ordered, punctuating her command with quick swat of her yardstick against his thigh. "I want to see your toes on the floor, hands behind your back and your nose on the seat cushion. MOVE!" she ordered, urging him on with another slashing blow; this one to his other thigh.

He did as she ordered. "Now, I want you to spell out - CORRECTLY - the honorific of the woman to whom you kneel. I will encourage you in this examination by a thorough application of my motivational tool to your upturned buttocks until you pass my little test." A whistling stroke cracked loudly against clenching ass-cheeks. "Begin!"

To the watching guests, this pairing seemed to be shaping up as something like a repeat of the first. The Mistress costumed as the femme fatale of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame took up a position about twenty feet down the corridor from where she'd entered.

Davis was moving into the corridor, as had Walter Evans before him, but without any real attempt to silence the bells. He was moving as quickly as the hobble on his ankles would permit, and as a result, he reached the first corner well before the first minute was expired. Cautiously, he stopped there, and went down on one knee.

Solange had told them there'd be traps, he thought, as he felt around the corner. If he was going to set traps in this dark pit, he'd do it at the corners - expecting to catch the prey when they were excited about making it to the first check point.

Unfortunately, he couldn't feel much through the bulky glove, and he set off the trip-wire controlled light trap. Fortunately, his eyes were not in the direct line of either the lamp or the reflection from the mirrors so he was only slightly dazzled. Closing his eyes, he rounded the corner on his knees and headed for the next corner.

"One Minute gone!" Solange announced as he headed down the second corridor. "There are Two Minutes remaining!"

That was to his advantage, the guests saw, because he was still on his knees when he hit the greased floor trap. Additionally, whatever tripped the webbing was up higher than he was tall when crawling, because he missed that one, too.

"Must be he figures he can just push his way past Betina, because he sure as hell ain't being sneaky about it," someone offered.

"Well, she's the smallest Domme doing this thing. I sure wouldn't try this with Emerald or ShaJuana," a female voice replied.

They agreed, watching him turn the second and final corner, and look carefully into the darkness in the direction of his goal.

"M . . A . . I . . T. . .R . . E. . S. . S. . EEEEEEE!" Walter yelped against the stinging fire lighting his bottom. Somehow, he'd managed to misspell La Maitresse's name three times. Okay, two times - the one time he'd forgot the 'L . . A' at the beginning.

"That is correct! You have mastered the spelling of your Mistress' honorific. You are released to your next class."

Walter looked up from his awkward position. "But. . .but.. ."

"Speak clearly, student!"

"What about my clue, Head Mistress?"

Marie heard the dismay and fatigue in his question, and gentled her own voice. "You already have it, student. Now go and find her." And then, she left before he could struggle up into a standing position.

Betina had moved a little further into the corridor, perhaps another fifteen feet when Solange announced that there was one minute left. Plenty of time for anything to happen, the crowd knew. Betina was going to have to stop him somehow, or he would win.

Victor wasn't really sure what he'd do if he won this contest. It was too bad what he really wanted wasn't on offer. He'd taken the challenge expecting to lose. He wasn't afraid of the challenge thing - so long as he could safeword if they approached his one hard and fast limit. That was a given because Solange, La Maitresse, wouldn't allow anything else in her house.

He'd already decided he wasn't going to try to capture Betina. Hell, what would he do with a submissive? However, that didn't mean he was just going to give in and let HER win. Where was the fun in that?

Solange watched as Victor went back down on to all fours, and started to gallop toward the finish line.

Betina barely saw him, but still managed to jump towards him. He saw her and made an incredible effort to twist his body so that he missed hitting her head on - he really didn't want to hurt her. He landed on his side, and started to roll back to his stomach so that he could start galloping again when something caught hold of the hobble chain, and pulled!

A cheer went up as the guests saw that there was a second Mistress, one who must have already been in the Hall when Betina had first entered. She pulled hard on the hobble chain, causing Davis to go flat onto his stomach, unable to get his feet to the floor. Then, Betina jumped on him, putting her weight on his shoulders.

Solange started the ten count, and was quickly joined by the rest of her revelers. Moments later, she announced that Mistress Betina and her partner, Mistress De Masque, had won and that the losing contestant was to be transported to Playroom 3 to await their pleasure.

Tina was tactilely and orally reacquainting herself with every square inch of HER ShaJuana. Juana had long since ceased complaining - about being captured anyway. Now she was complaining about being teased - LOUDLY!

It could be fun being a bitch, Tina mused as she discovered the pleasure to be had nibbling her way up the back of Juana's neck while cupping and fondling those magnificent breasts!

She'd just about reached her goal when a red-light flashed on the now-dark screen. Time for the big show, she thought. "Wanna watch some television, Tall Booty?" she asked as she walked over to pick up her remote.

"WWWHHHHHATTT??!?" was the bellowed response from a very frustrated goddess as the TV screen flared to life showing the two slaves with their burden entering a playroom with Betina and the masked Domme following behind.

"Maitresse?" Walter called out from in front of the dais, catching her attention from the screen on which her two slaves carried away Victor Davis.

"Yes, Mr. Evans," she said, turning to face her kneeling submissive and schooling her face and voice.

"Are you my next clue giver?" he asked, "Maitresse?"

"You should go soak your head, Mr. Evans," she said quietly. It was too close to midnight to put him through granting her some type of playful boon, and he looked about ready to crash.

"Soak my head?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well, dear boy, it is, after all, Halloween?" Then she deliberately turned away from him.

The slaves bound Davis hand and foot to a horizontal torture rack. Betina activated hidden motors that slowly stretched him out until there was no slack in the restraints.

"I think, Mistress Betina, that we should start by seeing just what kind of man we've won here. Is he a dud, or a stud?" the one called Mistress De Masque asked.

Betina found a pair of scissors. "I seem to recall that when I trained him, he was. . .adequate, at least for size. I can't tell you about his endurance," she giggled as she passed the scissors to her partner. "I never let him cum."

Three quick snips had the jockstrap coming off easily in the masked woman's hands. "Hmmm," she replied, "Seems large enough - and growing! If he's this quick to erect, however did you manage to avoid . . . accidents?"

The Madame' gentle, gloved hand began to fondle him intimately. "Maybe I didn't excite his little willie as much as you seem to do, my dear," Betina observed. The two woman looked to one side, where a floor to ceiling mirror stood. A little smile curled the blood red lips of Betina's blond partner as she took in her own reflection. The curvy woman who smiled back from those silvered depths was stunning in the tightly corseted black catsuit, heels and mask. "He must really like well-endowed, petite blondes."

Victor groaned in response to the teasing, 'Ummm, Mistress? Please, but I don't cum with the Ladies here - it's one of my hard limits."

"Oh, really?" the blonde purred, her fondling becoming more serious. "You didn't mention that, Betina. This one doesn't enjoy orgasm? How - interesting."

'Natasha' laughed. "No, I think he enjoys it well enough - just not here at the dungeon, but it is so much fun driving him to the edge of insanity. He's quite the only sub I truly enjoy forcing to safe word."

"Oh really?"

"Yes indeed. I've sent him out of here limping, his dick so hard, holding his hands behind his back on his own because he refused to touch himself and cum. Only fair, because he won't sexually pleasure, orally or otherwise, any of the Mistresses either."

"I don't think that's because he doesn't like girls," Madame observed thoughtfully, "I mean, look at this hard-on. I'm almost impressed."

Victor groaned again, going rigid. to control himself, and the masked blonde went up to look into her victim's eyes. "And why don't you want to share pleasure with us, slave-boy? hmmmm?" she asked, her hand speed beginning to pick up.

"Because I won't be sexually unfaithful to my wife, Mistress. I go home, after serving, to make love with her - to worship her, even if she doesn't know that's what I'm doing."

"Lucky woman, but I don't understand why you come here, slave-boy. Is she some type of prude, that you hide what you are and what you want to give her?"

Tears glistened in Victor's eyes. "I won't lose her because I . . . NEED this!" he growled through clenched teeth. "I can't give this up, but. . .but. . . MERCY!!" he called out, his entire body clenching against the suddenly imminent eruption.

The hand stopped, but wasn't removed. Instead, she gave a firm pinch at the base that stifled his climax. "Thank you, Mistress," he managed to gasp out.

The blond dominatrix signaled to Betina, who smiled, nodded and left the room. She then reached down, and unsnapped the bra and the crotch of her catsuit. "It's time, little man," she said in a smoky voice, "For you to give me what I've earned."

Before Victor quite knew what was happening, she straddled him, and took his erection into her in one slow movement. Davis was stunned! "Dammit, I safeworded! You're supposed to let me go - stop everything! I will report you to Solange! The police!"

Arching her back, the blonde put one gloved finger to his lips. "You safeworded because you were about to orgasm without your wife, correct? Answer yes or no."

"YES, DAMN Yooiuuuummph!" he was cut off by a firm palm across his lips.

"I said, yes or no, you naughty boy. Well, the reason I'm not honoring your safeword, is because," she reached up her free hand to sweep away the mask and blond wig, "I'm your wife!"

Davis found himself being tightly embraced and thoroughly kissed. "Linda?" he managed to choke out around the tongue invading his mouth.

The petite brunette sat up, gave a quick hip shimmy to seat him more thoroughly in her womanly core, and sighed happily, "That's Mistress Linda to you, slave boy."

"How - why. . .I don't understand. . ."

"Shhhh," Linda purred as she began to ride him slowly. "I followed you once and Solange saw me. We'll talk - LATER! Now, do I have to gag you, slave boy, or are you going to shut up and fuck me?!?!?"

 
 
Chapter 19: All's Well That Ends Well
 
 
"She. . . she didn't honor his safeword," ShaJuana choked out as Tina turned off the monitor. "Solange'll. . "

"Solange set it up, Tall Booty," Tina said, returning to her newly favorite pastime of finding every one of the ebony beauty's erogenous zones. "Linda wasn't completely convinced that Victor wasn't really cheating on her sexually, and Victor didn't know how to tell Linda what he really wanted from her as his Mistress."

"What if he'd won? Oh, shit, right THERE!"

"That's why it was two against one in that contest, and why Solange let Harris win the previous one - so Victor would believe he could win."

"You STILL cheated me - DAMMIT, I. . CUMMING. . . right THERE . . NO don't STOP!"

Tina stood back and watched the powerful muscles of Juana's body flex and stretch, watched her try to find something that gave her that last bit of friction she needed. But it wasn't there. "God, you're gorgeous," Tina whispered.

"I'm freakin' HORNY, dammit! You cheated to get me here, the LEAST you can do is HELP ME, bitch!"

"I didn't cheat, Tall Booty. If you'd caught me, I'd have played fair. I just had a little more time to think about how to win than the other players. I told Solange that I'd try to win, but if not, I was yours. I won." Tina leaned in a pressed a soft kiss to Juana's frustrated frown. "You are MINE!"

"DAMMIT, Tina, OKAY! Now DO something, DAMMIT!"

Instead, Tina went back to her throne, sat down and crossed her legs. "Well, that's the point, darling, because we have to decide what we're going to do. I'm gonna give you a choice."

~--~

"AND DON'T even THINK about coming back!" a furious Mistress costumed as a very sexy Marine drill sergeant snapped, before slamming the door of the ladies restroom in Walter's face.

He'd tried the men's room, and had thought, maybe in the Mistress' rest room, but still hadn't found the place to obey the order to go soak his head. He'd almost gone down to the foyer, knowing there was a restroom there, but Emerald had told him his prize would be in the ballroom.

Now that he thought about it, the bathrooms on this floor weren't 'in the ballroom' either. It was 11:50 PM when he made his way into the ballroom and saw IT!

There, off to one corner, was a line of Mistresses, their submissive boy-toys in tow, awaiting their turn at some of the 'party games'. All the favorites were there - 'Pin the Tail in the Subbie' where blindfolded Dominas tried to put a tail on their submissive using a buttplug instead of a pin. There was a wild game of 'Push the peanut' where ballgagged submissives with hands bound behind their backs pushed peanuts to the finish line with their noses.

And there was 'Dunking for Apples.'

Halloween, Evans thought! "Soak your head," Solange had said. Quickly, he jumped in line, hoping there was enough time left for him to get a turn and still make the midnight deadline.

"The slave of La Maitresse has head of the line privileges," the Mistress in charge announced.

With two minutes to spare, Walter Evans was on his knees, presenting the Golden Dildo - still dripping - to La Maitresse Solange.

"Oh, you wonderful brave slave boy!" she cheered, as she accepted his quest prize. "You did it! YOU WON!" Then, Walter was shocked beyond words when the usually reserved dominatrix jumped him - right there on the dais - IN PUBLIC - and kissed him senseless.

~--~

"A choice?" Juana asked, suspiciously. She was a Domme. She knew ALL about the kinds of 'choices' subs in her current position were offered by their tops. Like being put between a rock and a hard place and then having the rock dropped on your head. Juana saw the fine dominant hand of Solange in this and didn't trust EITHER of them as far as her currently bound hands could throw them. "What kind of choice, and be real specific with all the deets!"

Tina shook her head and laughed. "Oh, you'll like both options, don't worry. First choice is you stay there, all tied up, but get to cum - over and over again until I can't make you cum any more. I've always wanted to drive a woman into sexual oblivion, and I will unless you safeword, or. . ."

"Or what, little girl?"

"Or, you take the other choice. Which is, I get to make love to you until I can't go anymore or until you safeword."

Juana's head snapped to where she knew the surveillance camera was hidden. "But what about the audience?" she asked, knowing that Tina's true gender was not yet common knowledge outside of the dungeon's staff members, and that Solange wanted it kept that way for now.

"Equipment malfunction," Tina grinned. "The guests have been told that only the dungeon masters can see the feeds off those cameras until we get them fixed - after the party. They didn't see Victor try to safeword his wife, either."

"Well, shit, Tina-Ty-RONE! Take me to bed, STUD! And we'll just SEE which one of us needs any stinkin' safeword!"

~--~

At two in the morning, Solange slipped into the prep room where Victor Davis was helping his wife out of her costume. "Everything all right here?" she asked, already knowing the answer from the well-pleasured glow in her eyes, and the awed worship in his.

"We're just fine," Linda answered first, "Aren't we, darling?"

"Yes, Ma'am, we are." He turned to Solange from unlacing Linda's corset. "I understand we have you to thank for setting me. . .THIS up?"

Solange shrugged. "You are a lovely man, Victor, a beautiful submissive who longs to serve openly the woman he loves. You've hidden your service to her in the past, and then had to come to us when you deemed yourself deserving of punishment for not serving well enough. I know something of how hard that can be on a strong man such as yourself. Now, you can be open about your need to serve and worship her as your Mistress. Perhaps Linda will still want us to handle your discipline, which we will do quite happily, or we can help her learn how to do at least some of it herself."

"Oh, I want to learn," Linda purred, stroking her hand lovingly down her husband's cheek. "On him. I want to be the only woman to whom this man kneels."

"That can be arranged. Give me a call next week and we'll discuss some plans. Are you all right with that, Victor?"

"I am," he said quietly, "But I think I'd like to be involved in the planning, too. I know sometimes these things are done without the sub's knowledge? To heighten the effect? I don't think I'm ready for that. This is too new, and I feel, well, kind of fragile. It feels wonderful, but . . "

Solange nodded. "I know what you mean. You want to add to your relationship, not detract from it. We'll go slowly." She went over and kissed each of them. "Thanks for coming. One of the servants will escort you to your car when you're ready to leave. Just push the call-button."

Solange was tired after her gentle 'reward' session with Walter, but it was a good tired. This had been a very good party and a better night. Once the tension of the quest had been lifted, Walter had realized just how excited he'd been by the experience. He'd climaxed almost immediately just from her hand-spanking him. The session had gone a little longer than that, because Solange had needed to know he was truly all right after his public play debut.

He'd been fine - thank heavens - and had left with his mind awhirl with possibilities for the special scene he'd earned as a challenge scene winner.

She, on the other hand, was winding down and very ready for her bed. She just needed to make sure her guests were all safely on their way and that the premises were secure before heading for her own home. Inside the surveillance room she saw that all the monitors dark and her two friends who'd served as dungeon masters were gathering their things to leave. "Everybody gone?" she asked, as she strolled over to cuddle down into the lap of the room's third occupant.

"Everyone except ShaJuana and that cute little girlie-boy Mistress of yours. They were still going at it hot and heavy last time we checked, but it was purely vanilla - well," the grandmotherly woman chuckled, "Chocolate and vanilla, anyway, so we didn't figure we needed to watch all that close. Your Tina gave Juana the choice of being teased into an orgasmic coma or making love. They are making love and have been for almost three hours!"

"Matchmaking again, Solange?" the other woman in the room asked, casting a knowing smile at her friend.

"And if I am?" The arch tone of her reply was spoiled somewhat by the broad smile that Solange could not quite keep off her face.

Her friend grinned back broadly at her longtime confidante. "Hope it works out for them as well as it did for me and my baby-doll. He sends you his best, by the way. Although, he was a little disappointed when I agreed to DM for you because he loves your parties."

"He could have come. I'd have seen that he was suitably entertained."

"Naw. He won't play with anyone else these days unless I'm part of the scene - and I kinda like it that way. I only make him go to parties where he doesn't get to play as a punishment now."

"Nice," Solange agreed. "Well, if you're ready to leave, I have two slaves on call who will carry your things for you and give you safe escort to your cars."

After the two women had left, Solange was unable to resist the temptation to use her equipment to 'peak' in on ShaJuana and Tina. One look told her that it was ShaJuana and Tyrone at this point as none of Tina's feminine finery was anywhere in evidence. A second look told her that Ty was doing a fine job of 'having his way with her', for Juana's hands were digging deeply into his hair, holding his head to her sex, while her flawless, ebony body bowed up into his face.

Solange quickly powered the system back down, fanning her face with her hand. Well, she thought as she smiled hungrily into the face of her bound and gagged husband, maybe she wasn't QUITE as ready for sleep as she'd initially thought. With practiced flicks of her fingers, she freed her lover from the bondage stool onto which she'd installed him a few hours earlier, and then undid his gag. Standing, she quickly straddled him, wrapped her arms about his powerful shoulders and kissed him deeply. His arms came up to hold her close, thrilling her yet again with the sheer power he always willingly ceded to her. "I think," she purred as she squirmed against his chastised erection, "that you should plan on being very, very busy when we get home, slave."

It was, after all, a night worth celebrating!

 
 
Chapter 20: A Glorious Morning Have We Seen
 
 
Something was 'not right,' Juana thought, her mind still muzzy with sleep. Maybe it was just too early to get up - being awake when you should be sleeping was about as 'not right' as things were allowed to get in ShaJuana Price's highly ordered world. Cautiously, she peaked open one eye to look at her alarm clock. Things went from 'not right' to dead-wrong in half a heartbeat!

First, her clock was not where it was supposed to be, and second, there was a softly snoring man-lump behind her in her bed. . .

Make that three things, she realized as her brain finally started to catch up - this was not HER bed, nor was it her room. How the hell. . .

And then it all came flooding back to her. That damned party and Solange's setting her up so Ty - make that Tina - would beat her in that also-damned Hall of Horrors thing.

Damn! Why wasn't she totally pissed off about that? She hoped she wasn't getting mellow . . .

Oh, yeah, she thought as she rolled over in the bed - hours of having yourself loved blind and brainless did things like that to a woman.

She went instantly still as she played back that thought. She'd used the "L" word, not the "F" word, and she'd meant it. Aw hell, now she'd gone and done it, she thought. She'd fallen in love with Tyrone Evans! She was at once deliriously happy and utterly terrified. She didn't know how to be in love, dammit. Being 'in-LOVE!!' was a girly thing - like pink underwear, for god's sake. What did a towering she-hulk like her know about being in love and all that happily ever after stuff??!

She tried to imagine herself as his woman - her brain wouldn't let herself use the other "w" word. She couldn't even manage that imagery!. Not unless Donna Reed grew half a foot, wore six inch stiletto platforms, a latex house dress and a leather apron! She wasn't made to be the 'little woman', dammit!

"Hey," a soft voice behind her called, "You're thinking awfully loud for so early in the morning." She shivered as Ty pressed a kiss to the base of her neck and pulled her body back closer to his own, spoon-fashion.

She could feel the strength of him when he did that - she often forgot just how strong he was because of their relative sizes - and then he kissed her again. "What's up, Juana? You've gone all tense."

The gentleness of his tone and question undid her as nothing else would have, and she was crying before she could do anything to hold back the tears. She wanted to curl up into the fetal position and hide until she got over it, but Ty was having none of it. Using that strength again, he had her rolled over, facing him and wrapped up tight in his arms before she quite knew what was happening. "Hey, hey, what's the matter, baby? Did I hurt you?"

"No, dammit, you didn't hurt me!" she snapped, angry at him because she was angry at herself for crying. And it was HIS damn fault, too!

"Then, why?" he asked, worried.

"Because you loved me, you jackass! Just like I was a real girl!"

"HUH?!?" His oh-so-male one-word answer infuriated her so much she punched him - which hurt him - so she did it again. She was winding up for a third when he bear-hugged her so she couldn't get another clean shot at him. "That hurts, you little witch - cut it out!"

"I'm not a little anything, you . . you . . " she was struggling now, trying to get out of his arms - trying to get away before she truly humiliated herself.

Ty was having none of it, and rolled her to her back so he was on top, looking down into her eyes. Here there be dragons, he thought. "Juana-love? You are a real girl - as real as it gets, okay? As real as it will ever get for me. You're my girl."

She stopped struggling, but the tears continued to stream down her cheeks. "How can I be your girl, Ty? I'm a bitch-domme, for heavens sake - a sex-worker. I freakin' tower over you. And. . . And. . .and I'm black!"

He didn't answer right away, just kept looking down at her. Finally he smiled. "You done?" he asked, and then continued before she could answer, "Because if you are, we're home free. One - you're black and absolutely gorgeous inside and out. I can't imagine my girl being any other way. Two - your height. I'm not in the least intimidated by that, and in fact, find it both attractive and exciting. I can't imagine my girl being any other way. As for your profession, what you are is an actress and artist who uses your God-given acting ability, your empathy and your compassion to help people. Yeah, sex is involved, but not in anyway that bothers me. News-flash, Juana, I'm sorta in the same line of work just now!"

She swallowed hard, looking up into his eyes. It was still dark in the room, but there was enough light for her to see them. "You say that now. . ."

"And I'll say it tomorrow, and tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that," he told her. "Like you yourself told me - you don't ordinarily even touch the guys on their, um, male parts," he paused, reflectively before continuing, "Well, you certainly touched mine during our two scenes. . " Juana mumbled something. "Hmm? You say something?"

Embarrassed, and certain she was blushing furiously, Juana tried to look away from his face, only to have a gentle hand cup her chin and turn her back to him. She sighed. "I said, that was just with you. I might strap one on and take a guy up the ass during a session, but he does the jerking off. Solange gets pissed if we do too much of that, so I try to do none."

"See? As long as I'm special that way, I don't mind your work. Hell, I'm starting to think some of it is sexy! Especially your costumes!"

"Perv," she muttered, fighting back the elation she felt bubbling up inside her.

"And whose fault is THAT?" he asked, grinning.

"Natural talent, asshole," she answered, then went still again. Ty cocked an eyebrow at her. "I can't be Donna Reed, Ty, not even for you," she managed to choke out.

And was instantly furious again when he started laughing so hard he lost his hold on her. She rolled on top of him, pummeling him again until he caught a wrist in each hand. "Thank GOD for that, Tall-booty! I grew up with Donna - she's my Mom! I don't want to be my Dad, and I sure as hell don't want a girl just like the girl who married dear old Dad, either. That's not me!"

She was mollified with that. "So, if you're not going to do fuel injectors in West Podunk, what are you going to do?"

Ty released her hands, and pulled her to him. Finally, she relaxed and laid her head on his shoulder, liking how they fit together that way. "I'm not sure, but it will have something to do with the theater. I've still got the business degree, so I might be able to get something in management, but I'm working on something else just now, too."

"Gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to put you over that spankin' bench and torture it out of you?"

"I've been accepted at the Actors Studio Drama School," he told her, "In the director's program. In my time here, I've helped orchestrate any number of scenes for the ladies - you know, staging, planning, costuming - that kind of thing? I like it, and they all said I was good at it, too. And I thought, 'Hey, this is a way I can still be involved with the theater creatively.'"

"When do you start?"

"After New Years, if I can work out the finances. I won't ask Dad for help - not for this."

Understanding dawned. "That's why you wanted to do the on-call TV slave thing? You wanted the money?"

He nodded. "But that's not going to work."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because there's only one woman I'm giving that part of me, and I won't 'sell it', not even for that." He was suddenly being strangled, kissed and cried on, all at once. "DAMMIT, Juana, I can't BREATHE!" he yelped, and took in a couple of deep breaths when the grip eased.

"Thank you," she said softly, and then pressed on before the tears started again. "So, what are you going to do?"

"Keep working here, doing the odd scene as I have been doing, and working more with Solange in the planning and business end of the dungeon. Using that damned business degree."

"No shit?"

"No shit," he affirmed.

"Like how?"

He grinned up at her smugly. "Like, did you know, that we don't have a health care plan here for the ladies and other staff?"

She looked at him as if he'd grown three heads. "Health Care? For cripes sake, white boy, this is a freakin' DUNGEON!"

"And your point is? Did you know that Solange has a city-issued business license for this place? I forget what the technical term she used to describe it in the paperwork, but the whole thing is legal and above board. She even pays taxes. I think she currently gets the girls health care at reduced prices by exchanging services with a couple of doctors, but that doesn't help with things like hospital care and prescriptions."

"Health insurance in a dungeon?" she said, wonderingly. "What's next? Retirement plans?"

"I am looking into tax sheltered annuity plans," he told her seriously, and then smiled as she dissolved into giggles. He stopped those by taking possession of her mouth, kissing her with a sweet thoroughness that thrilled her. "Better?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she growled, her juices bubbling. "JUST fine, now, cutey."

Ty felt her hand reach down, find him, stroke him and then her mouth took his. "Get ready to be had, little man, MY way!"

Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded on the door. "HEY, you two!" Solange's voice called from the other side. "I've got paying clients coming in to use this room today, and I'm sure it needs a thorough cleaning!"

"Go away, Solange!" Ty yelled, reaching up to grip Juana's hips. "Come back in twenty minutes or so!"

"An hour!" Juana retorted loudly as she settled herself around him, "At least an hour!"

Acting Dominant

Interlude: Bad Angel Fire Her Good One Out

Solange offered Tyrone the steaming cup of tea she'd just poured and prepared with all the grace and ceremony of a Regency duchess. Accepting it, he grinned. "Now I know how Tina should have served you and Juana in that first scene of ours."

Bowing her head with regal acceptance, she replied,"One should always handle the social niceties, such a serving tea, properly, and with due respect and solemnity," and then grinned. "Besides, this tea is hot so I have to handle it carefully."

Accepting the offer of a cookie, Ty set his cup and plate down so that he could pick up his journal. "I was a little surprised we didn't put off this week's reflective meeting," he told her as he paged through the notebook, "I mean, I didn't do any learning sessions this week."

Taking a sip from her own tea, Solange shook her head. "No, you didn't. You had something that could have been far more challenging to you," she averred. "You had the opportunity to dominate the woman you love for the very first time. You can passively accept the dominance of another when you bottom, but topping is active - something you have to initiate and take responsibility for the outcomes. I wanted to make sure that you didn't have any. . . lingering issues about your role in that scene with ShaJuana."

Once again, Ty surprised and pleased the experienced Mistress by not giving the typical knee-jerk male response of "No problem!" She let him mull over the question without further input from her, interested in what he might come up with in response.

Finally, he put the journal down and picked up his teacup. "You know, I wish I'd thought to journal that, but I didn't - mostly because I just felt so good about the whole thing afterwards. Kind of a super-afterglow."

"No negative feelings about 'forcing her against her will' or 'taking away her freedom of choice?' You are okay with that?"

"More than okay," he replied, reflectively. "Because basically, I didn't and wouldn't have. You might as well know that if she'd safeworded? No one but the two of us would have known, unless she told. As far as I was concerned, we could have spent the rest of the night eating snacks and watching the tube."

"So, you would have lied to me?" she asked, a finely formed brow arching in her query.

"Yup. And I would have lied about the victory scene, too, if that bothered her. Or maybe I'll request something I know she'll like doing as the domme."

"Is that what you want? I said you could have any scene you want."

"You had it right to begin with, Solange. She's the woman I love - she's the woman I want."

"And you're concerned that ShaJuana might have issues with you wanting to top her, or with you voluntarily playing with someone else?"

Ty considered that question, and then shrugged. "Dunno. I think. . . no, I KNOW that she enjoyed what we did together after the Halloween party, but that really wasn't too stressful on her ego once I released her from the bondage."

"Being loved - truly loved - is rarely stressful for a woman," Solange observed drily.

"Glad to hear that, 'cause I sure hoped that would be the case," Ty grinned. "But we haven't talked about it much beyond some morning-after pillow talk, you know? I'm just not sure where to go next with her, but I feel these conflicting needs to go slow and do whatever it takes to make her happy, and yet, on the other hand . . ."

"You want to rope her, brand her and make her yours right now."

"Well, yeah," he said, blushing at the imagery invoked as much for the knowing tone with which Solange delivered it. "Figuratively, anyway. I'm still not much into pain and marking things, though."

"Yes, I do see. Perhaps, I need to talk to ShaJuana and see what I can get out of her. She's been hard to pin down, these past few days - intentionally on her part, I think, because she wants to be annoyed with me. I'll give her a few more days to deal with that. Good for her to stew a bit more before I help her see figure things out."

"Thanks, Solange," Ty grinned sheepishly. "Sometimes, I just don't know what the rules are with her."

"You are a mere male, and therefore, if you did know the rules, we women would be obligated to change them so you didn't. I, however, am a superior female and I do know the rules." The pair shared a snort of laughter at that. "Let me deal with this and I will get back to you," Solange told him. "Now, I have another topic I would like to discuss if you still have some time."

"Sure! What's up?"

Solange held up her right index finger in a 'wait one' gesture as she picked up her phone. Punching in a quick number, she settled back into her chair. "It's me," she said into the receiver, a wicked twinkle in her gray eyes, "Please present yourself in my office immediately."

She'd barely replaced the handset on its hook when a confused Ty heard a polite three-knock rap on the office's door. "Enter," Solange ordered.

The man who entered in response to that directive was tall, thick through the shoulders and chest, and of middle years. He was impeccably dressed in a suit Ty was certain had not come off any department store sales rack. And, Ty thought, there was something familiar about him - Ty was certain that they'd met sometime in the past, but where. . . ?

He quickly crossed to Solange where he took the hand she held languidly up to him and pressed it to his lips. "Darling," she said, a world of affection in her voice. Then she turned her attention back to Ty. "Tyrone, I don't know if you will remember, but you have the acquaintance of this gentleman," she said, confirming Ty's recognition. "This is my husband, Roderick. He is something of a venture capitalist who specializes in helping to finance Broadway stage plays."

Ty went cold as he recalled precisely when he'd had the acquaintance of this man. "You were the producer who sat in during my audition for that leading-man role opposite Roxie Hunter." he said, a hint of accusation in his voice.

Still holding Solange's hand in his, the man turned to face Ty. "Yes, I was. You did quite well in that audition as I recall."

Bitterness bubbled up from Ty's core. "Not all that well, evidently! I heard what you said afterwards! I had to come back because I forgot something. You wouldn't even let the director consider me!"

"I didn't say you couldn't act, kid," the man snapped back, the temper Ty recalled from the audition showing, "I said you couldn't sing for shit and that you weren't tall enough for the damned part. You read just fine, but your body type was all wrong for that role!"

"Roddy," Solange said very quietly, steel in her tone. "Language!"

"Sorry, Mistress," the man replied, visibly upset at his lapse of control. "My apologies to you, too, Mr. Edwards. That's not why I'm here. Please excuse my outburst."

Taken aback by the both the formal address and the sincerity of the apology, Ty nodded slowly. "Accepted." he said, wondering why he was here, and at Solange's direction.

Waitaminute, Ty thought, his eyes snapping back and forth between Solange and her husband - did he just call her 'MISTRESS?'

Roderick withdrew a parchment envelope from his inside coat pocket and handed it to Ty. "This is why I'm here - to give this to you."

Ty broke the wax seal and withdrew a sheaf of papers from within. The letter on top carried the letterhead of Pace University. "'Dear Mr. Edwards,'" Ty began to read, "'The Actor's Studio Program is pleased to award you the inaugural Jasmine Solange Devereaux Scholarship for select students in the Actors Studio Master of Fine Arts program . . .'" Bewildered, he looked up and repeated, "Jasmine Solange Devereaux?"

Solange smiled gently. "That's my full name, Tyrone. Roddy created the endowment in my name as a gift to me."

Ty considered that, and then glared at the man. "And you gave me this scholarship because your Mistress ordered you to?" he accused.

"Hell no!" Roderick thundered back only to be pulled up short by a warning tug on his hand from Solange. "Your pardon, Mistress. No, Mr. Edwards, you got it because you are talented! Look, you're never going to be more than a bit player on Broadway, okay? You wanna keep playing the mobsters in "Kiss Me, Kate" or maybe Bottom in "A Mid-Summer Nights Dream?" Fine, but you're not going to be Petruchio or Oberon because you're not tall enough. When Mistress Jazz told me you were thinking of being a director, I said - and I'll say it again now, that you could be pretty good - the best directors are really good actors, in my opinion. Okay, you also know Mistress and she likes you - that got you looked at by me first and then by the guys I hired to run her foundation."

"Looked at? Looked at how?" Ty asked. "I've never done any directing that was recorded in any way."

"Solange said you organized this year's Halloween Party - set everything up for her. I was there and saw how well it went." Ty saw an intimate look flash between Solange and her husband at that revelation and blushed at the emotional intensity between them.

"The way you orchestrated that party was as good an example of what directing is all about as anything I've seen. You set and dressed the stage. You had the right pace. You established the right balance between the script and the talents of your actors. Jasmine has also let me review some of the other scenes you've directed for her here, and I've talked to some of the players who were involved in them. They confirm your ability to set the scene and get the desired results. You won because you're deserving. I don't give free rides in the theater, kid. You only get what you earn and what your talent rates. Got that?"

Ty glanced at Solange for a moment and saw the pleased smile she gave her husband. He swallowed and then stood, offering his hand to Solange's husband. "Got it," he said roughly. "And thanks."

Surprisingly, the rough-tempered man blushed and accepted the offered hand almost bashfully. "You're good," he repeated, "And Mistress says you bust your ass to get better. Break a leg, okay?"

Shaking his hand hard, Ty grinned broadly. "Okay! And thanks, both of you!"

"You are welcome," Solange answered, and then looked to her husband. "You may run along now, dear. I will see you at home."

"Yes, Mistress," he said, kissing the hand again. "See you around, Edwards," and then he left without another word.

"Wow," Ty breathed, even as the door closed behind Solange's departing husband. "He's your slav. . . I mean, he's submissive to you. . . Oh hell, I'm sorry. That's none of my business."

"It's common knowledge among the staff here at the dungeon that I have a lifestyle relationship with Roderick that often has him submitting to me in the physical and personal aspects of our lives together as man and wife. However, you need to understand that his submission has absolutely no bearing on the conduct of his professional affairs. I asked him to consider endowing the scholarship and I asked him to see that you were given a fair opportunity to win that scholarship. That's all. You won that on your own merit and on his professional opinion of you as another theater professional."

Ty blushed at her directness, but nodded. "Thanks, Solange. I appreciate that."

"Are you going to be foolish or are you going to accept that scholarship?" and it was La Maitresse who demanded an answer.

"Juana would have my ass if I even tried to turn something like that down."

"And she'd be right. I'm glad the two of you are a team now. You are a very lucky young man."

"I know. For what it's worth? And remember, until ten minutes ago, I still blamed your husband for not giving me what I considered to be a fair shake? I think your Roderick is a very lucky man, too."

Solange's smile was feline-smug as she accepted the implied compliment. "Yes, he is - almost as lucky as I am to have him. I'm glad to hear, however, that you see there might have been some justification for his opinion, regardless of how. . . callously he might have expressed it when he thought he was in private conference."

 
 
Chapter 21: Maitresse Familias Interfering
 
 
Fifteen minutes should be just right, Solange thought as she opened Prep Room 3's door and peeked her head around through the opening.

And she'd been right. ShaJuana had yet to begin getting out of costume after her just-completed session. Instead, she was staring vaguely into her mirror with her chin resting in one hand, a little half smile curving her full mouth and a cold-cream moistened cotton-ball loosely held in her free hand. If it were not for the thigh-high, spike-heeled pirate boots, skin-tight black leather catsuit and the whip dangling from her waist, she looked like a teenage girl daydreaming of prom night.

Perfect.

"Excuse me, Juana," she called out into the quiet room, "Got a minute to talk to your boss?"

The tall beauty nearly jumped out of her chair in surprise. "Solange?" she squeaked as she tried to catch the breath she'd just lost. She made an admirable effort at regaining her composure and Solange had to give her credit for almost managing it.

Almost.

"Got a minute?" she asked, purposefully repeating her question.

"Ummm, uh, sure," Juana stammered before swallowing hard and trying to blank her face of any emotion. "What do you need, Solange?"

"Just wanted to talk for a minute. Nice scene, by the way. You just about terrorized that poor guy."

"Huh?" Juana stumbled, taken off balance by the unexpected direction of the comment. "That scene? Why would that scare him? He's the one who set the whole thing up. We do almost the same exact shtick every time he comes in for a session with me. I wish I COULD terrorize him because he's getting too freakin' comfortable that I won't play outside the tight little box he's built around us with all his damned limits! I know we're not here for our own pleasure, but that little snot gets off on topping from the bottom because he's paying the bill. Some days I just wanna choke 'im!"

"You know I draw the line at breath-control play, but you can certainly dump him if he's that much of a problem for you. You know I'll back you up, too. You deserve your due as his Domme and if he's not giving his fair share to make the scene work for you both, he can find another dungeon. And you already do well enough financially from your other clients that you don't have to put up with 'snots'."

"I know," Juana sighed, her shoulders drooping a bit. "It's just that, outside of that crap, I like him, and, well, I think he really needs what he gets from me. Doc referred him, you know," she said, referring to one of Solange's long-time clients who was also a physician. "Stress and stuff. He's better now, I think."

"Well, I think you scared him enough that he might be a little more amenable to providing you with your Dommely prerogatives from now on. Having a whip-toting Mistress grinning that broadly while she ties his dick and balls into bowknots tends to get even an asshole's attention. Since you USUALLY sneer during your scenes, having that dopey grin on your face the whole session must have been rather daunting. He was dressed and gone in under five minutes."

"Really?" Juana said softly, her own smile returning. "Well, then I'll just have to see about how much we can stretch that box of his next time. Thanks for the tip. Umm, is that all you wanted?"

The older woman's face became stern as she shook her head, "No. You've been avoiding me," Solange told her younger protegee, "And I thought it was about time we stopped dancing around each other. Hell, Juana, it's been over a WEEK!"

Juana's dark brown eyes flashed and her lips thinned "You set me up! Tina wouldn't have beaten me if you hadn't stacked the deck in her favor!"

Well, Solange mused, at least it's out in the air between us now. "His favor," she corrected. "As I recall, it was Ty, not Tina, who strutted out of that room with you on his arm the morning - or was it the afternoon? - after the party."

"Ty - Tina, what difference does THAT make!?! It should have been ME doing the dominatin' that night, NOT her. . HIM!"

"And he just defiled you, did he? Ignored your safe-word and violated your trust by whipping, I mean, fucking you 'til you couldn't stand?" Solange's eyes were wide with insincerity, "I'm SO sorry we weren't more sympathetic and less envious about your terrible ordeal! Why, I'll just fire his sorry ass for you! How about THAT?"

The ebony beauty spun back around to her mirror, her arms crossed in temper. "You know he didn't do anything of the kind!" she pouted. "And it was a wonderful night, and you damn well know THAT, too. It just wasn't how I dreamed - I mean -THOUGHT it would be with him."

"Does it have to be the way you dreamed it would be for the reality to be good?" Solange asked softly. "Can't it be different and still be good? Maybe even better?"

She watched Juana's head nod even as she started to answer, only to stop, and settle back into the chair, a pensive pout on her lovely face. Finally, she sighed. "I guess I've just never seen myself as the sub in something like this, Solange."

"Sub? You were no more subbing to Ty that night than Tina is subbing to Artemis right now!"

"ARTEMIS?" Juana growled, spinning back to glare at the dungeon owner, "and my. . . I mean, AND TINA??! I mean, TY?!?"

"And YOUR Ty," Solange agreed, not bothering to hide her grin. "Although he's not pushing for a job as our on-staff male or TV slave anymore, I still want him to experience a broad variety of play scenes. I could tell that he was somewhat . . . disconcerted by the pony-boy at the party, so I decided he might benefit from this experience. Artemis is our best pony-trainer and who knows? We might have a client who wants to be part of a pony-pair at some point, and I thought Tina would be a lovely pony. Don't scowl, Juana," Solange teased with a smile, "I monitor all of his training sessions and he seems to be doing fine."

"He comes out of there with any welts that last and I'll fix her sorry ass for her!" Juana hissed.

Somehow, Solange's grin grew even wider before she managed to stifle it. "Oh, don't worry. He's already caution-worded her once because he really does not like the whip, and I'm sure he'll stoplight her if she gets too rambunctious. Which she won't because she is a pro."

"Oh, I know," the younger woman sighed, as she finally began to cream away the vivid makeup she used when working one of her clients. "I'm sorry about dodging you, but I've had a lot on my mind."

"A woman in love usually does," Solange observed softly. "Given the circumstances of your rather unusual courtship, I suspect those things on your mind aren't things you would want to talk about with your Mother. I just wanted you to know that if - no, make that WHEN you need to talk about such things, you have only to call me." With that, the older woman turned to leave the room.

"No, DON'T leave!" Juana snapped out, before adding, "Please? I . . .I think I'd like to talk. Hell, I need to talk - with you especially."

Solange closed the door she'd never left, and came over to take the room's other vanity stool. "So," she said, leaning in close and dropping her voice suggestively, "Give me the dish, sister. I know he's hung, but is he any good?"

For several seconds, Juana could only stare at her older friend, her eyes wide and her mouth open. Then, she began to giggle before finally managing to get out, "The BEST!"

"Oh, really," Solange purred out the word, "DO tell, and don't worry about being too detailed."

"I thought he was going to kill me with pleasure," Juana whispered, sharing the secret she'd been holding so close for more than a week. "It was like he was trying to eat me alive! I don't know which is better, his tongue or his dick, but either would make him the best I've ever had, and he gives both without demanding anything in return. I felt like my pleasure was the single most important thing in his life. I've never felt so. . . so cherished."

"Cherished is good," Solange agreed, waving her palm to fan her face. "Very good, in fact! What else!? Let's have those deets, girl!"

The black woman blushed now, and leaned even closer. "He told me I was his girl!"

"Well, duh!" Solange laughed.

"No, really! He said I was black, gorgeous, tall and a Domme, and he couldn't imagine HIS girl being any other way."

Solange heard the uncertainty creeping into the lovely girl's voice and pounced. "That's great! I think he's just perfect for you, too!"

"But, am I really perfect for him?" Juana asked, her voice now very small and very young. "I like being a Domme - I like working here at the dungeon. I don't want to quit because. . . Look, Solange, I'm good at this stuff, and dammit, I help people here doing it, too! Like that guy who just left. I'm GOOD for him and HE NEEDS ME!"

"And your point is?" Solange asked. Juana started to answer, then stopped, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "ShaJuana? Obviously this has something to do with Ty. Is there a problem with you continuing here and being with him?"

"He says his Mom is Donna Reed!" she blurted out. "How can he take a six-foot tall, black bitch-goddess home to Mother when she's freakin' DONNA REED!?"

Relief coursed through the older woman. This could be handled, she thought. "Quite easily, I'd say," Solange retorted matter of factly. At Juana's look of abject disbelief, she simply laughed. "Hell, Juana, you don't have to stroll in there decked out in your corset, fishnets and stilettos, brandishing a riding crop and a strap-on! You, better than anyone else here, know that clothes DO make the man, TV or in your case, the woman. It's that hard first look you have to get past! Dress the part correctly and she'll get over the shock of having you tall and yes, black, when she sees how much Ty adores you and you adore him. If she's worth knowing at all, that is."

"Ya think?"

"I'm sure! Look at how flexible and open Ty is and I bet you see the mother in that. She may be Donna Reed, but I'll bet my best flogger she's the one he takes after in that household. His dad is some kind of hard line, addicted-to-his-business junkie and I just don't see that in Ty at all, for all he's got some great ideas for my business."

"Like health insurance?"

"Yes, indeed. He's just about got it set up, too. I never even thought of such a thing. I did, however, shoot down his idea for on-site daycare, so he's off looking at other solutions. The thought of four-year-olds running hay-go-mad through the Torquemada Room. . ." Solange shuddered, then grinned. "So, what had you walking a foot off the ground all morning? In my experience, the only thing that does THAT to a woman's mood is a man being unusually sweet and romantic."

The taller girl's soft, secret little smile blossomed once more, and then she pointed to a brightly colored box on her dressing table. "He gave me a present this morning," Juana confided softly. "Pretty lingerie - all in pink!"

"Nice stuff?"

"God, Solange, they're so pretty I want to dance in them - just for him."

"Well, you were the one who wanted to teach him how to dress like a woman. Guess he's putting that knowledge to good use. So, when are you going to reel him in?"

"Umm, I, ah, think I'm gonna sort of go with the flow on this - at least for a while," Juana said, turning back to the mirror as if she could avoid the question by turning away. "I don't want to push and mess it up. It's all so . . . much at once."

"I see," Solange replied softly, and then rose to her feet. She bent over to kiss her young friend on the cheek. "Call me when you need to talk some more, dear. You'll figure this all out if you just give yourself and Ty the chance."

Leaving the room, Solange quietly closed the door behind her, and then strode down the corridor shaking her head. "Okay," she said quietly, "That does it! To hell with trying to be subtle!"

Acting Dominant

Interlude: Tangled Webs of La Maitresse

"This is excellent work, Ty," Solange said as she signed the last of the documents he'd prepared for her approval. "Now, I want to pick up the cost of the policy for my ladies and other staff, along with any of their dependent children. If those employees want to include coverage for their mates or significant others, they will need to pay the additional costs out of their own pockets."

"Since you pay them weekly we could offer them a payroll deduction plan to cover that. We'd get them to sign an agreement and then the payroll company will just handle it - just like their income tax withholdings."

"Perfect! I will leave all those pesky little details in your capable hands." Solange collected all the papers she'd just signed and then pointedly set them to one side before pinning Ty with her eyes. "Now, let's talk about your scene with Artemis."

"Wheee-heee-heee," Ty whinnied, causing both of them to laugh.

"Artemis came to see me this morning. She was disappointed in the scene dynamic between the two of you." Ty raised a quizzical brow at Solange, but said nothing. He was getting a little too good at dealing with her usual tricks and was much more difficult to draw out these days, she mused. Well, might as well be blunt. "She was annoyed because she couldn't seem to arouse you."

"Huh?" Ty replied, obviously confused.

"You didn't get a real hard-on the entire scene," Solange said, grinning. "Artemis is about a nine and a half on the ten-point babe-scale. It's a matter of personal pride to her that she always gets her boy-toys rock-hard and dripping in the first five minutes of her scenes. That way, she can exploit their arousal to seduce them into letting her take a few more liberties in her scene-play than they might otherwise prefer if they were thinking with their brains instead of their cocks. I watched most of her scene with you and I don't think you ever got much above half-way interested. Worse, you were pretty much limp by the time she called a halt to your session, and it wasn't because you'd climaxed, either. She took that as something of a personal failure."

"I wasn't trying to upset her, Solange. I agree she's pretty hot-looking, but I guess I was concentrating too hard on not falling on my face in those pony-shoes she locked on me to get too worked up sexually! Particularly with her constantly nagging at me about all that bloody high-stepping and keeping my head up."

"And then," Solange added, "You compounded your transgressions even further when you yellow-coded her while she was trying to teach you how to do that 'bloody high-stepping and keeping your head up.' That limitation put a real crimp in her program because she has to be sure her pony-slave can safely move about in the horse-shoes before she dares saddle him, or even harness him up to a sulkie."

"Seriously, I wish I hadn't needed to use the caution word, but I was starting to get really pissed off with her and that darned whip of hers! If she hadn't restrained my hands for most of that session, I'd have grabbed that damned whip and broken it in itty-bitty pieces!"

That revelation surprised Solange. For all it's impressive length, the whip Artemis used was not at all severe. In fact, the pony-mistress had chosen that specific implement because its bark was much worse than its bite. "Really? Why? Did you find it particularly painful? Did she cut you or leave a mark? Artemis is exceptionally skilled with that long whip of hers and I can't recall her ever cutting a partner with it - even accidently . Mostly, she just uses it for the same reasons that I use a whip - to sting a submissive for effect or as a wake-up when they need one."

"She didn't hurt me," Ty admitted. "DeeDee hurt me with her whips, so I know what 'hurt' means in this context. No, it was more that she just kept snapping it at me - over and over again - like one smartass kid needling another kid again and again with a rubber band - something like that, anyway. I started getting really pissed off over it, and by extension, with her."

"Didn't you expect that to be part of your pony-play experience? If you will recall, I did make a particular point about those practices when we had our pre-scene discussion. I mean, trotting on the lunge-line and dancing to the whip are major parts of that type of scene - and of being a pony-slave."

"Thought I was ready for it," Ty replied reflectively, "But getting mad at Artemis wasn't in the plan - and I WAS getting angry. I had to get her to back off and let me control that reaction or things would have gone south in a hurry!"

The older woman nodded thoughtfully. "Well, then you used the caution word tool correctly. Besides, despite your reactions, you managed to finish the scene with her, so neither of us really have anything to complain about with your performance or your behavior. It does, however, indicate you may not be suited to playing that role again with a paying client. Well, we'll just have to see, won't we? At least Arty'll know better what to expect from you if there is a next time. You DID look very cute, by the way, all tacked up," she added with a mischievous grin. "Lovely tail, too."

"Yeah. Juana came in just before we called it quits and made me model it for her. Don't think, even for a moment, Solange, that I'm any too happy about how much SHE liked it on me, or rather IN me," he said with a sardonic smile. "Truth to tell, though - just to give you an idea where my head was at? I'd all but forgotten about that damn plug being stuffed up my rear because I was getting so steamed about that nagging whip and her constant bitchin. . . I mean, sniping at me."

"Really?" The tail was always a very big deal for pony-slaves, and something they were usually constantly aware of during the session. Momentarily forgetting about it could have meant something as simple as the plug having been too small. However, if it had been MORE than that - if he'd really been THAT upset by Arty's whip-play and verbal jibes, then Solange would have to be very cautious about using Tina in any future pony-scenes. "You actually forgot about the tail?"

Ty made a dramatic crossing motion across his chest. "God's truth, Solange. In fact, at the end of the session when Juana came in and told me to 'wag that tail, horsey,' it took me a moment to figure out what the heck she was talking about!"

"I see." Solange again strove to remember the parts of the scene she'd observed. Had Artemis used the whip excessively? She hadn't thought so as she'd watched their scene unfold on her surveillance monitor. Then again, as she'd just told Ty, most of Arty's playmates were highly aroused by the time the pony-trainer normally got around to trotting her charges around the playroom to the encouragement of her whip. Along with making her playmates more amenable, all those 'I-am-horny' endorphins tended to turn the whip's sting into something closer to a teasing caress for the ponies. Only, Ty hadn't been excited, had he? She sighed, then smiled at him. "Well, I don't think we'll plan on using you with any paying clients in that role."

"I'd try, Solange - you know that. And I think I'll be better able to deal with my reactions to the whip and banter having been through it once. . . ," and his voice trailed off.

"I understand, and thank you for that. However, You should understand that I don't expect you to like every type of scene I expose you to, or ask you to attempt. I only expect you to go into each such assignment with an open mind and a will to give your assigned Domme your best effort. There are always some scenarios that no matter how much someone may try, he OR she simply cannot do them with any degree of acceptance, let alone pleasure. We may try pony play with you again at some later date, but it will again be just you and Artemis until we're sure of your ability to handle your reactions. But we'll hold off even on that for a while. I would, however, like you to sit down and discuss the scene and your feelings with Arty."

"Already planned on it. We're gonna get together for lunch tomorrow. I was going to ask her for a post-event critique, but she beat me to it."

"I should have thought she'd do that. She is a superb Domme, so she'd want to help you both come to closure - especially after you had to yellow-light her scene," Solange told him. "Now, on to another topic altogether."

"Sure! What's up?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if you'd given any more thought to the specifics of your victory scene? The prize you won from the dungeon at our Halloween Party for capturing ShaJuana?"

Startled, Ty gaped for a moment. "Umm, don't you remember, Solange? I already had Juana in my wicked clutches," he said, a wistful smile on his face, "All . . Night . . LONG! And besides - I am an employee of the dungeon, just like Betina and Emerald."

Laughing, Solange gave a playful slap at Ty's hand. "I know that, silly. But you were a challenger in that game, just like the clients who accepted the Hall of Horrors contest. I insist that you, just as the other challenge victors, get a free scene of your choice with the Domme or Dommes of your choice for another whole night! Why, you wouldn't even have to be the sub in the scene. Imagine, we could teach you how to use a whip - I'm certain you'd enjoy that, especially if we were to use DeeDee's bottom as your target training aid, or you might decide you'd like to have our oh-so-regal Isolde as YOUR submissive little sexy-tary."

"Umm, Solange? You know I'm kinda committed to Juana now. Well, except for business purposes, if you take my meaning."

"Kinda? What's this 'kinda' thing, young man?"

"Kinda as in totally and completely. As in 'to death do us part, if then' committed."

"Sounds like you are serious," she observed even as she fought to keep the joy she was feeling hidden for the moment. "Then you'll just have to do something with Juana for your victory session. The reputation of my dungeon is at stake here, Tyrone."

"Umm, she's still a little sensitive on the subject of me having defeated her in that contest, Solange. I'm not sure that telling her to sub for me in another scene just now is really such a good idea. Like I said the other day, I guess I could pick something where she'd be the Domme, but . . ."

"Hush, grasshopper, and attend the words of the Master– Mistress and learn wisdom."

"Huh?"

"Listen and learn, young one, listen and learn."

Her office door crashed against the room's inner wall, causing Solange to jump in surprise even as she spun her desk chair about to face whatever was coming for her.

'Whatever' turned out to be an enraged black Amazon with fire in her eyes and smoke issuing from both ears!

"WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT ABOUT TY DOING HIS VICTORY PLAY SCENE WITH DEEDEE?!?" ShaJuana bellowed, both fists slamming down on Solange's desk, her chin thrust forward in belligerent indignation as she glared at her boss seated across from her. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ALL ABOUT?!?"

The older woman held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, settle down, girl. And sit down. What is it that has you storming into my office like you owned it?"

When the taller woman made no move to comply, Solange's eyes narrowed and her voice cooled. "Sit. . . Down!" she ordered again. She watched as Juana gave obeying (or perhaps disobeying) a few moments consideration before dropping inelegantly into the visitor's chair. "Better. Now, what has upset you?"

The fire flared again in Juana's brown eyes and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "Emerald told me that DeeDee is going to scene with Ty - as a prize for that game he won on Halloween."

"I see. So?"

"So you ADMIT it? WHY?"

Solange gave the girl her best bland look. "Because she is doing it with him and I see no reason not to admit it."

ShaJuana actually grabbed two fist-fulls of her own hair and pulled. "NO!" she screeched. "Why is he using HER??!"

"Because he can, I suppose. His prize was anyone he wanted, anyway he wanted to do her or be done by her. He asked for DeeDee."

Juana's face fell at that. "But, but . . . he's my . . . I mean, I'm his. . .well, he SAID. . ."

Solange gave a dismissive wave of her hand to stem the flow of incomplete ideas. "Yes, I know you two are together, but it's not like it's exclusive between you, is it? You still conduct professional scenes of your own here at the dungeon. Why shouldn't he?"

"But . . . but. . . that's DIFFERENT! That's . . . that's just business! Ty playing with DeeDee isn't business unless YOU'VE told him to do it for training!"

"Oh? Really? I didn't realize you this was just a job to you, dear." Juana's face drained at that jibe and she started to splutter, only to have Solange relent with a soft laugh. "Oh, Juana, lighten up. I know what you meant. You want him to play with you, right?"

"Yes, dammit!" the other girl snapped, her head nodding furiously.

"Well, that's part of it, I think. First, he doesn't want to be the sub in this session - he wants to be the Dom - and he wasn't sure you'd be okay with bottoming to him again. Particularly for the prize scene which he won at your expense, so I offered him this as an alternative."

"He could have asked," she pouted.

"So you could say 'Hell NO!' and stomp off in your righteous fury? Perhaps, but you need to give him some credit for trying to be sensitive to your feelings. He is, after all, only a male and therefore somewhat sensitivity challenged. And there's another reason he didn't ask you."

"What?" demanded ShaJuana, a mutinous pout on her face.

"He wants to try something that he wasn't sure you'd like, and he is looking to get some practice with someone else first so he'll have a better chance to get it right if and when he gets the opportunity to do it with you."

"But, DeeDee? Why cute little DeeDee?"

Sensitivity to the hidden nuances was a key attribute of a good Domina, and Solange immediately recognized why her protegee was feeling almost threatened by the selection of Deirdre. The dungeon's resident whip-mistress was petite, particularly when compared to ShaJuana and her tall, robust physicality. The older woman laughed, mostly to relax some of the bubbling tension between herself and ShaJuana. "Well, I suppose he thinks his planned scene might not be entirely pleasant for the, ah, subject of his attentions. And since he feels he has reason to want a little . . . payback from DeeDee for earlier lessons rendered…"

Juana well remembered Ty's discomfort after his training session with DeeDee, and she could understand him wanting to get a little of his own back. Still, she wanted him to play with HER, dammit! "What does he intend to do?"

"That's confidential, dear, as you should very well know. For the purposes of this particular scene, Tyrone is a client of the dungeon and therefore of me! You know I don't divulge my client's desires, except as professionally required to the woman or women who will be playing with him."

"Solange!" Juana flared. "Don't you dare try that with me."

But the older woman was unfazed by her young friend's temper, and just smiled. "Sorry, 'Juana, but if you really want to know, you'll have to find out for yourself. I'd start by asking Ty."

"Like HELL I will," she snarled back, and strode from the room.

If anything, the crash of the door slamming behind ShaJuana was even louder than her entry.

"Perfect," Solange laughed as she turned back to her computer and her interrupted quarterly tax report. It was a sign of just how pleased she was with that interview that even the IRS couldn't dim the grin Juana's exit had left on the older woman's face.

Dressed and ready for her next client, Juana sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection. She had ten minutes before her sub would be ready for her which unfortunately gave her ten minutes to think about Ty's scene with DeeDee.

Cripes, she thought as she took in her own scowling reflection, I sure don't have to worry about my grin terrorizing the client today, do I?

So NOW the loveable jerk was going to play with another girl to protect HER from his own dark desires! He'd told Solange he needed to practice, huh? Who did he think he was? What did he think he was doing playing with another girl?!? Wasn't SHE his girl?!?

HIS girl!

Okay, so he'd picked DeeDee and Solange had said something about payback. That meant he was probably going to be playing with corporal punishment. Not her favorite thing, Juana admitted privately, particularly with her on the receiving end. Just in general, she preferred to keep her own booty un-striped, thank you very much.

But dammit, it wasn't like she was some whiny little bitch! She'd handled getting her ass whipped during her training period at the dungeon! Had she wimped out? EVER? NO SHE HAD NOT! And by God, ShaJuana Price could and WOULD take ANYTHING that man wanted to dish out! She'd been whipped by WOMEN, by god, who were a hell of a lot better than any mere male at making things HURT! Not like some sneaky, devious, gentlemanly…

A knock on her door interrupted the inventive string of adjectives she was generating to express her displeasure with one Tyrone Edwards, so she snarled, "WHAT IS IT?"

Ty poked his head in. "Hey, sorry! I didn't know you were getting into character. I'll bring these back later."

"DON'T you DARE leave, Edwards! Get your connivin' male ass in here! Right NOW!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" he snapped out even as he jumped into the room and came to the position of attention.

"What is this CRAP about you playing with DEEDEE?? What are you THINKING?!"

He made her even more outraged when all he did was grin. "AND WHY ARE YOU SMILING, YOU IDIOT-KNUCKLEHEAD?!?"

He tried to stifle his grin but failed entirely, causing his lover to begin to sputter. "No particular reason, Juana," he told her ingenuously and watched her fury jump several more quantum levels. In the face of such rage, he did the only thing he could think of that didn't involve a cowardly charge to the rear. He put his papers down, swept his gorgeous lover off her feet, and proceeded to kiss her senseless.

A few moments later, he settled her leather-clad butt down on top of her vanity table so that she sat eye to eye with him, but didn't say anything. She could only stare at him, unable to form a single coherent thought or response. If anything, his damn grin widened, which threatened to set her off all over again.

"Chill, Juana, it's okay. It'll be okay." Then he went over and recovered the sheaf of paper he'd set down moments earlier. "Hey, look, I know you're pressed for time, but could you sign these papers for me? We need to get the new insurance plan turned on. We just found out that one of our ladies is pregnant and I want to get her prenatal services and OB stuff on track. Okay?" He held out a stack of paper in one hand and a pen in the other.

The lovely face went momentarily blank as she tried to accommodate the sudden shift in topic. Shaking herself, she took the pen, thankful for something more concrete than her mixed up feelings on which to concentrate. "Ummm, where?" she mumbled.

Ty quickly shuffled through the pages getting her signature several times. "Thanks, Juana," he said as he gathered papers and pen back up. "I'll go over them with you in detail later - after your session if you like - but now, I want to get them downtown to the agent so we can get things moving on this."

He was out the door before she could say another word.

Only then did she realize - he hadn't told her what he planned to do for his victory session with DeeDee. "Well, hell, fool," she chided herself. "You didn't ask him, either!"

Juana was back in her dressing room; once again staring into the silvered depths of her mirror. At least her session had gone well, she mused. Her client had even left her a substantial tip to show his appreciation. So why didn't she feel the afterglow of a good Domme-high and the satisfaction of a job well done?

She knew the answer to THAT question.

Tyrone Edwards.

Playing with another woman.

Because he needed practice and because Juana might not like whatever it was he wanted to practice.

Oh yeah, and because he wanted to be the Dom.

She could do the scene, she told herself sullenly. She could do whatever it was that Ty wanted from his partner in this scene. Hell, she thought, was there ANYTHING he could possibly want to do with a woman that would be WORSE for her than sitting here, getting all green-eyed and pissy because he'd chosen another woman as his prize?

Hell NO! He was HERS, DAMMIT!

She was HIS.

Besides, in her heart of hearts, she already knew she'd always enjoy whatever they might do together - regardless of who was the top. Hell, she'd enjoy it A LOT! One thing she already had figured out about her guy was that, regardless of his role in their scenes or lovemaking, Ty got his pleasure from giving her pleasure. The only real difference between being the top or being the bottom when they played together would be who got to tell the other what to do and who got to decide who came first. Either way, she'd get hers, wouldn't she? Damn straight she would. Hell, about the only way she wouldn't get hers from Tyrone Edwards would be if she were the Domme and she ordered him NOT to touch her.

Like THAT was going to happen in this lifetime, she laughed to herself.

"Guess I'm just gonna have to crash your little scene, Ty-RONE," she said aloud. "But first, I think I'm gonna find out just what it is you have planned. So I can be REALLY ready for you."

Solange smiled broadly as she set her phone back on its cradle. DeeDee had just called to tell her that ShaJuana had all but cornered her in the ladies room, demanding to know what Ty had planned for his prize scene with her. "I told her I didn't know, Solange," the petite domina had said during their short call, "And I made sure SHE knew that I wasn't too happy about being kept in the dark because it was MY ass on the line. He's a really nice guy and all that, but I was concerned he was going to be a real shit about the whipping I gave him early on. She didn't want to believe me, and she left in a real huff!"

Perfect, the elegant Mistress thought, the game was afoot, and it was time to bring this mad, merry chase to its successful conclusion. So much to do, she thought happily, and then picked her phone back up, dialing a number from memory.

"Darling?" she said when her slave answered the phone for her. "I need you to make a few appointments for me and a friend…"

 
 
Chapter 22: All Men and Women Merely Players
 
 
The prep room's wall phone rang, and Solange went over to pick it up. She listened for a moment, said a few words and then hung up with a smile. "Places everyone," she ordered. "Curtain's going up!"

ShaJuana strode up to the door to Prep Room No. 1, and barely stopped herself from simply crashing inside to confront Solange. Not good, she told herself as she leaned against the wall taking deep, calming breaths - a person needed all their wits about them if they were going to take on Solange. With an effort, she willed her pounding heart to settle back into her chest, and then tried to plot out what she should do next.

Mere minutes before, she had finally found out what was up with Ty's victory scene. She'd practically had to choke the truth out of Isolde who'd only known because she was helping out Solange while the dungeon's regular costume Mistress was on vacation. She hadn't found out a moment too soon, either, because evidently the damned thing was just about to go down!

She should have been TOLD, dammit!

Good thing she'd heard Isolde bitching about the extra duty this morning, and about how she was having to stay late on a Friday night to collect and store the costumes after Ty's scene.

Now that Juana knew what Ty wanted, she was even more annoyed that he hadn't asked her to play it out with him. Okay, so maybe a guy SHOULD be cautious about asking his girl for that kind of sex, but hell, he'd told Solange he wanted it, hadn't he? Solange KNEW that Juana didn't have any problems being on the receiving end of that kind of play! For cryin' out loud, Solange - HERSELF - had been the one who'd broken Juana in that way during her training days!

And yes, Ty was big. SO WHAT?!? She could handle it! She could, by god, handle HIM!

Period!

Okay, so he wanted her ass - FINE! Fair was fair. She wanted his, and she sure didn't plan on giving up using his fine male butt anytime soon, now did she?! No freakin' way! And besides, he SHOULD lust after her ass! ShaJuana Price had a damned fine ass, even if she did say so herself! And if Tyrone Edwards wanted an ass to practice on, he would damn well practice on hers!

That way, she'd make DAMNED sure he learned how to do her right!

Or she'd just have to demonstrate how it was SUPPOSED to be done on his tight little ass until he got HERS right, wouldn't she?

Damned idiot MALE!

"God, Solange, I feel like an eight-year old playing dress up in Mommy's clothes! Could this damn thing be any BIGGER??!? I'll trip over the train and kill myself. Hey, there's an idea! If I'm dead, my butt won't be at risk anymore, will it?!"

"Oh, quit whining. I've seen you drooling over Ty and don't try to tell me you haven't. Since you got carried away with your whip both times he's subbed with you, this may be your only opportunity to play with him ever again, so DEAL with it!"

"Okay, Okay. So maybe I got a little too enthusiastic, but it was his own damned fault for being so damned cute! I had to do something with him, Solange, or I'd've had to jump his bones right there in the playroom. And. . .and. . omigod! Have you seen him in that black tuxedo? I don't know whether he belongs on the cover of GQ or Playgirl, but just LOOKING at him makes me feel all gooey inside!"

"Hands off, sister," muttered ShaJuana, her ear plastered up against the prep-room door. "That's MY man you're fantasizin' about!" Just because DeeDee was about the only Domme in the place who had to look up to Tyrone - damn her for that, too! - didn't mean she was the only one who could fully appreciate his hotness factor!

After all, hadn't ShaJuana been the one to bring him into this joint for that very reason??!

"Well, there won't be any bone-jumping today, so get your hormones under control, Deirdre! And hold this damned dart together so I can get in a few pins into it! Then I can do a quick stitch job and it will hold it up fine," Solange growled around a mouthful of pins. "For as long it'll have to, anyway."

"What will THAT do for my boobs, dammit? I could bathe in these damn cups! Why do CD's have to have D-Cups, anyway?"

"A question for the ages," Solange answered wryly. "Now stand still before I get blood on this damned white tulle!"

What the hell were they doing in there, ShaJuana wondered as she continued to eavesdrop. It sounded like a dress fitting. White Tulle?!?

Her eyes went wide as she recalled the last time she'd seen anything made of that oh-so-very-feminine material.

The door flew open before ShaJuana's wrath, and for a frozen moment in time, she simply stood there, glaring at the two women staring back at her in wide-eyed shock. Then, she focused in on the petite blonde standing atop the hassock draped in about three times too much white material for her frame. DeeDee looked like she'd gotten in a fight with a white tent and lost!

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" the dark valkyrie managed to get out in a tone that wasn't quite a snarl.

It was Solange who answered. "Preparing DeeDee for her session with Tyrone, as I suspect you already know. Now, you will please excuse us. This is the only gown we have that suits his request and it needs a lot of work."

"That's MY gown," ShaJuana growled as she stalked into the room. "I picked it out for Tina! For HER to wear for ME!"

"Actually," Solange answered equably, "It is my gown. I paid for it out of the dungeon's business accounts. Now, if you'll just run along so we can. . ."

"NO!" the infuriated black Amazon roared, slamming her fist against the closed door and causing DeeDee to jump in surprise. Even Solange stopped to stare at the taller woman. With a visible effort, Juana regained control over her shredding emotions and then repeated more softly, "No. I'm not running along. What I'm going to do is take DeeDee's place with Tyrone, and Solange? YOU'RE gonna help me do it!"

"That is not what Tyrone requested nor what I agreed to provide for him as the proprietor of this establishment," Solange retorted, getting to her feet to stand between Juana and Deedee.

"Tough, Solange, it's what he's gonna get! DeeDee? You have three choices, little girl. One? Run for your life right now. Two? Find Ty and safeword him before this goes any further. Or three? Find yourself between a rock and hard place with me providing BOTH!"

Solange took two steps to get up into Juana's face. "I will not allow you to threaten one of your fellow employees!"

"I'm not threatening anybody, Solange," Juana said with a silky smile that gave lie to that pronouncement. "You don't feel threatened, do you, DeeDee?"

The usually composed whip-mistress paled for just a moment, then swallowed hard and almost managed an answering smile of her own. "uh, well, sort of. . . " Then she saw the scowl that clouded Juana's face and rushed on. "I mean, NO, of course not. I'm. . .just. . FINE."

"Good," Juana said, the hungry shark smile back. "Then shuck yourself out of that dress like a good little girl."

"ShaJuana! As should be obvious, Ty wants to play out the honeymoon scene you two botched up, but this time with himself as the groom. Even though he will be using sex toys for any penetrative play, it IS his scene to do how and with whom he wants to do it! He wants a bride in THAT dress and I insist that he gets it!"

"Fine, Solange! I'll wear the freakin' dress, but I'M doing the freakin' scene with him and that's FINAL! It don't fit little Miss Junior Sizes for shit anyway!"

"No, it's not fine, ShaJuana, and it sure as hell isn't final! Deirdre has assured me she will not safe or caution word what Tyrone has planned. I'm not certain you can make that promise, and I WON'T have him deprived because YOU decide to wimp out when push comes to shove!"

ShaJuana leaned down and got nose to nose with her boss. "I don't wimp out, Solange! You want assurance? I'll give you assurance! I promise NOT to use any safe or caution word in there with him, okay? This is a no-limits scene! I freakin' won't LET him stop, okay??!"

"Your word on it, ShaJuana?" Solange asked, not backing down from the towering woman.

"I just said so, didn't I?!? And you KNOW my word's GOLDEN!"

Solange gave a gusty sigh, and turned back to face DeeDee. "Get out of the dress, Deirdre. And then run down to wardrobe and get a corset for Juana. If she's wearing THAT gown, we're going to need to take a few inches off her middle."

"Oh really?" Juana asked, her brow lifting as the tension began to ebb.

"Yes, really. I had to corset Tina pretty radically to get HER into that thing, if you'll recall, and Tyrone is only a little bigger in the waist than you are, girl. As to the bodice, well, your bosom is just a little large for it, but I guess if those girls of yours pop out the top, Tyrone won't mind all THAT much." Solange took the gown from DeeDee and held it up against ShaJuana's much longer body. "Hmmm. It will be more tea-length than floor-length on you, but it will do for our purposes, I suppose. The cathedral-length train should still work for you as well." Then Solange took in Juana's footwear and grimaced. "Those Jimmy Choo ankle-boots are all wrong for the outfit, though. DeeDee? See if you find some white pumps that will fit her while you're down in wardrobe, too."

"I don't think so," Juana interrupted, a wicked grin lighting her face. "Go get my thigh-high, black patent leather bitch-goddess boots out of my locker. He likes how those look on me just fine. 'Sides, it oughta remind him just who he's dealing with, if you take my meaning."

"NO, dammit! I will NOT have you topping from the bottom, ShaJuana!" Solange said repressively. "Particularly NOT in this session!"

"Now, would I do something like that, Solange?"

"To use your own vernacular, my dear? In a freakin' heartbeat."

"Whatever," Juana said dismissively. "DeeDee? Get my boots."

Deirdre was out the door before Solange could say another word. The older woman glared up at Juana one last time, then blew out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, very well. I don't suppose it will make all that much difference in the scene in either case. Now, go do up your face while we wait for DeeDee and your corset. Wouldn't want Tina's bridal presentation to outshine yours, now would we?" Solange asked sweetly, and was inwardly pleased at the snarl that immediately answered her jibe.

"Oh, that's just PERFECT," Solange cheered as she primped the lace veil over and around Juana's rich mane of silky black hair. Stepping back, she gestured for her model to do a slow pirouette to get the entire feel of the woman and the gown. With a sardonic grin, ShaJuana swept the train over one arm and raised the other above her head as she began a slow, dancer's turn.

She WAS perfect, Solange told herself again silently. They'd managed to lace a hard-won four inches off the girl's waist so that the bodice fit about her gorgeously muscular figure like a lover's embrace. She'd been right about the tits, though. If those puppies didn't pop out before the evening festivities were over, well, Tyrone just wasn't trying hard enough.

The black patent stiletto boots' five-inch heels raised Juana's already impressive stature to well over six feet, so the gown's front hem rested a few inches above her well-turned ankles. Well, okay, so it was ALMOST perfect, Solange sighed. "Those laced boots just ruin the effect," she complained again.

"Did MASTER Ty-RONE specify white shoes?" ShaJuana demanded, one finely shaped brow winging up in challenge.

Solange wanted to lie, but decided against it. "No. He specified that his partner was to be dressed as a bride. They do make you even TALLER, though," she added quickly.

"THIS bride," Juana said, a single long-nailed thumb pointing into her burgeoning cleavage, "will wear black boots! He'll just have to deal with my height instead of getting to tower over DeeDee!"

"Oh, very well!" Solange frumped. "Not as if that's what was on his mind, in any case. He just wanted a chance to warm and stretch out Deirdre's butt for her. Come on, Juana, the only people who have a problem with Tyrone's stature are people who don't know him! You know him, so you know the real strength of him. So what if you're both a little height-challenged?" Juana's snort was ruined by the hopeful look she gave Solange.

Recognizing that insecurity for what it was, the older woman pressed on. "Look at everything he's gone through to get to this point - and don't tell me it wasn't mostly for you, either! Okay, so a man that strong can be a little scary and a lot daunting, but if the woman is strong enough, if she's WOMAN enough to accept that kind of masculine challenge, the pair of them can build something pretty damned special together, if you ask me."

A look a smugly feminine understanding passed between the two women. "You've got a point. Okay, let's go and get this playing done so that I can start working on hauling his ass off and getting this done for REAL! It's way past time I claimed what is already MINE!"

With that, Juana turned to the door, so she didn't see the wicked little half smile on her friend's lips, or the sparkle of tears in her eyes as she pressed the button of a small signaling device she'd hidden in a pocket. "Yes, indeed," Solange breathed as she pulled herself together. "Let's go get this done."

 
 
Chapter 23: The Taming of the Mistress
 
 
Feeling calmer than she had in days, ShaJuana stepped into the corridor outside the prep room and was about to turn towards the stairs that would take her to the dungeon's third floor playrooms when a familiar figure stepped out from the shadows and into her way.

Recognizing the older man, Juana looked back to Solange for an explanation.

"ShaJuana, you remember my slave-husband, Roderick, don't you? He is here to escort you to your Master. Roddy? You know what to do."

Only then did Juana realize that the man was wearing formal evening dress. "Yes, Maitresse Jasmine," he said bowing deeply to Solange before turning to bow to ShaJuana with equal formality. "Mistress," he said offering her his arm, "If you will please allow me?"

Thoroughly confused again and decidedly no longer centered, Juana meekly put her right hand into the crook of his proffered arm and allowed herself be guided regally down the corridor. Such was the state of her mind and emotions, that it wasn't until they had stepped into the grand ballroom that she realized they were headed away from the stairs that would have led them up to the third floor playrooms.

Her question died on her lips when she caught sight of Tyrone Edwards - watching her approach.

Her mouth literally went dry just looking at him. The tuxedo he wore had been lovingly tailored so that it fit his trim, athletic frame perfectly. The short coat was open at the front, held in place by a short, golden chain in lieu of a button. His black tie and the black studs of the formal pleated shirt did marvelous things for his golden complexion and hair. A bright pink cummerbund and a pink rose boutonniere provided vivid contrast against the otherwise stark black and white of his formal dress.

He was freakin' gorgeous, she thought in wonder. "Oh my God, DeeDee was right," she breathed aloud, "He's incredibly handsome when he lets himself be manly. How did I ever forget that?"

Maybe because she been so focused in on how great he'd look in skirts??!? Cripes, she'd been STUPID, dammit! AGAIN!

Suddenly, she was standing in front of him - staring at him staring back at her! She didn't even feel Roderick take her hand from his arm and give her over to Ty; didn't hear Solange's husband's murmured comments or sense his retreating bow. All she was aware of - the only thing in her world at that moment - was Tyrone Edwards.

Shaking herself mentally, she tried to find her tongue - tried to think of something clever to say, but her brain was adrift in a bubbling cauldron of emotion and need. In the end, all she could manage was a breathy, "Wow."

Ty grinned, and then 'made his leg' to ShaJuana while at the same time bowing over her hand to kiss it. When he again stood erect, he winked at her and whispered, "Told you I knew how to do that."

She'd barely managed to make the connection to his very first scene with her and Solange - the time Tina had royally messed up her first curtsy - when Ty, still holding her hand, went down on one knee before her. She watched as he reached into a hidden pocket and produced - my god, she thought - what a rock! Which was followed by, where the hell did he get THAT???

"ShaJuana? I love you. Would you please marry me? Would you please do me the supreme honor of being my wife, my lover, my Mistress and my submissive, and most importantly, my very best friend?" he asked, his voice breaking twice in the asking.

"What?" she managed, her mind still all a-muddle, when a collective, feminine, 'Awwwwwwwww,' and the strains of Beethoven's 'Ode to Joy' playing over the ballroom sound system jarred her out of her near fugue.

Then, Solange was at her side, pressing something into the crook of her free arm. "These are for you," she whispered. Juana looked down and stared at the bright bouquet of pink tea roses, pink camellia and pink dogwood blossoms. "And only for you. Ty hoped it would be you that showed up for this, as you can see."

"What the hell?" Juana muttered, looking around her and seeing for the very first time that every one of the dungeon's Mistresses - including DeeDee, the little sneak - was there, standing beside her! And they were decked out in what she knew without being told were bridesmaids' dresses. A quick glance to the other side - TY's side - and there were her boys - her favorite clients - all dressed like Tyrone!

With a twinge of something almost like dread, Juana turned back to the face the 'front' of this little stage and saw another black woman, smiling broadly at her, wearing the brightly colored robes of her ministry. "Reverend Davis?" she asked haltingly, not quite believing her own eyes.

Reverend Eleanora Davis, the pastor of the AME Church Juana regularly attended, smiled even more broadly. "Yes, child. Ummm, don't you think you owe this nice young man an answer to his question?"

Juana followed the older woman's look and saw Ty, still kneeling, still holding her hand in his and still offering the ring to her. It was almost more than her sense of the ridiculous could handle. "Dam. . .I mean, doggone it, white boy, if you think this woman's gonna submit to you, no matter how gorgeous you are in that tux, you got another think a-comin'!" she snapped, playfully pretending to try to tug her hand free of his.

"Hey, Juana," he retorted with just a bit of asperity in his tone, "I'm the one on my knee here, not YOU! Now, are you gonna put me out of my misery and marry me? Please?"

Tears welled and flowed freely as her heart swelled. "Oh, hell, Ty-RONE! Of course I'm gonna marry you, turkey!" Ty barely managed to get the ring onto her finger before ShaJuana scooped him up off the floor and began to kiss the lights out of him.

In some still functional part of her mind, she heard the cheers of her friends and colleagues. She was getting married - to TY!

Then, she stopped kissing him, pulling her face back to stare into his eyes sternly. "Ty? How can we be getting married? Doesn't that require a license and some waiting time??! Those blasted insurance forms!" she growled. "You snuck a marriage license application in on me, didn't you?"

Ty started to wiggle, desperate to put his feet back on the floor, but his powerful goddess only tightened her hold on him. "Ty-RONE? You better answer me. . ."

He looked, she thought, like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar - all embarrassed and frustrated at the same time. He mumbled something she didn't quite hear, so she squeezed him even harder, giving him a little growl for added effect.

"Okay, okay," he gasped out. "I . . .uh, well I wanted to do JUST that - so all the paperwork would be out of the way, but Reverend Davis wouldn't let me. So we have to do that part later."

Very slowly, Juana lowered her man to his feet, using her own height and the added inches of her boots to glare down at the miscreant. "Wouldn't let you, huh? So what's all this if we can't get married yet?"

"We're ah, anticipating the paperwork a little," he answered quickly.

"And JUST what does that mean?" she asked, suspicion bright in her eyes.

At this point, a laughing Reverend Davis stepped down and clasped hands with the pair of them. "Settle down, now, dear," she ordered with gentle authority. When Juana reluctantly complied, she beamed up at the girl. "What it means, ShaJuana, is that the State of New York won't recognize your union until after you fill out their paperwork, pay their taxes and fees, and complete their waiting period."

"Render unto Caesar?" Ty asked, with a smile.

"Precisely," the minister agreed. "This ceremony would be a promise between the two of you, witnessed by your friends, blessed by God. If you want to make that promise, that is…"

"Of course I do!" "You bet I want to!" was the simultaneous reply from the two young lovers.

"Then let's do this thing, shall we? Places everyone!" ordered Reverend Davis. "We got us a wedding to celebrate!"

"Tyrone, will you take ShaJuana to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, trust and protect her as long as you both shall live?"

"I will." was the firm reply.

She then turned to the bride, "ShaJuana, will you take Tyrone to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor, trust and protect him, as long as you both shall live?"

Juana grinned impishly down at her man before turning back to the minister. "I will," she said solemnly, and then added, "And I will spank his butt for him when I decide he needs it, too!"

Ty carried his bride across the threshold of the bridal suite of the New York City Hilton in downtown Manhattan. He didn't set her down immediately, instead held her as he settled onto the huge bed. For infinite moments in time, the simply held each other; kissing and being kissed.

Suddenly, Juana's roving hands stopped their random movements over his back and began to systematically pat him down. Then she pulled back to stare at him. "And just what is it I feel you wearing under that sexy tux, cutey?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

"Well," and it was Tina's voice that answered her, "You'll just have to unwrap me and find out. But I will tell you this - Whatever it is I have on under this monkey suit? They match my cummerbund."

"Hey, I thought this scene was about you wanting MY ass, lover."

"My ass, your ass," he replied as he began to work his way down the buttons of her gown, "What does that matter as long as we both get what we want in the end?"

"As long as we both get each other in the end, lover."

"Amen to that."

 
 
Epilogue: Loves Labors Won
 
 
Ty stepped out of the Chinese restaurant and into the one of New York's infamous horizontal late April showers. Any May flowers this deluge brought would have to be pretty damned hardy, he thought with a smile. Still, it took more than a little freezing rain to take the smile off his face these days.

He was busier than a one-armed wallpaper hanger with a serious case of hives, but that was the way he liked it. Besides, what with his studies at the studio school, homework, the director internship job Roddy had arranged for him and his duties as business manager at Solange's dungeon, there wasn't much difference between work and play for him. Work was way too much fun, even if his sometimes fourteen to sixteen hour days left him a bit frazzled around the edges. Fortunately, he had ShaJuana to help him deal with that problem. It was a relationship that wouldn't suit many folks, but it worked for them.

They'd just celebrated their six month anniversary last week, albeit a little early, and Ty was already planning the festivities for their seven month anniversary. He'd have to go some, though, to top what ShaJuana had sprung on him. She'd completely blind-sided him with that session, mostly because she did it while they were home visiting his parents at the time. And having his Mother - Donna Reed herself - knock on their bedroom door and ask if everything was all right in there, just when Juana was all set to have her wicked way with his restrained and helpless body had absolutely blown his mind. The memory of ShaJuana's answering shout of "Oh, he's just a little tied up right now, Mrs. E, but he's just fine!" still sent chills up his spine - even now.

It had tickled him how well his tall, ebony lioness had taken to his petite, practically-perfect-in-every-way, homemaker-Mother and vice versa. Within the first hour of his and ShaJuana's arrival at his parents' house, Mother and Daughter-in-law were off huddled together in Mom's parlor, chattering and giggling like longtime girlfriends, and they'd only gotten closer as the visit had progressed. In fact, unless his theater-trained eye had deceived him, Juana had been giving his Mother cosmetics lessons because 'Donna' had been looking rather more exotic (he couldn't let himself think of it as erotic) towards the end of their stay - particularly in the evening.

And now that he thought about it - particularly right before bed time. Especially the time Mom had all but ordered Dad to say good night. Donna Reed as a femme-fatale sex goddess? Oh, lord, the LOOK on his father's face that night - Ty could empathize and. . . and. . .

HELL, boy, he chided himself, don't EVEN think of your mom that way!

Well, Oedipus was classic theater, so maybe he could think of her, at least in the abstract? Yeah, he could because he was a guy and Mom was gorgeous, after all. Ty decided that he wasn't the only really lucky guy in this family.

Lucky guy indeed, he thought as he entered their apartment building. THEIR apartment - just putting those two words together in a sentence made him smile. But then, just about everything about Juana made him smile. Lucky.

Ty was just about to slide his key into his entry lock when the door swung open and a powerful black arm snapped out to grab him by the tie and haul him bodily into the apartment. The force of the pull was so great that he had to take several steps beyond the threshold to catch himself. By the time he had, the door was slamming shut behind him.

At least he hadn't dropped the sweet and sour, he thought grinning. "And how was your day, dear?" he asked in a very creditable imitation of Lucille Ball, turning back to face his wife.

His mouth fell when he saw her. She was magnificent in hot pink leather - pink corset, pink strap-on, complete with a pink dildo of considerable dimensions, pink thigh-high stockings, pink garters, pink stilettos and. . . omigod - where in hell does anyone go to buy a hot-pink riding crop??! "I had a freakin' GREAT day, boy! I did two client scenes that went really well, so I am in prime Top-space!"

Holding up the bag he still had in his hand, Ty offered slyly, "Hungry? I've got sweet and sour pork . . ."

Her chocolate eyes narrowed to slits and her smile became positively feral. "Oh, I'm hungry, all right, cutey, but it sure as hell ain't for food! Drop the bags, lose the clothes and get on your KNEES!"

"Geez, Mistress Bitch - at least let me put the Chinese in the fridge, first," he wheedled.

"LIKE HELL, boy!" she snarled, grabbing his shirt front in both hands, ripping it open to scatter buttons like popping corn. "In case you've forgotten? It's Tuesday night, so your ass is MINE and I want it NOW! So get it STRIPPED so I can get STARTED!"

Then she caught sight of what he had on beneath the now-tattered shirt and just stared. The look on her face when she took in his own costume was perfect - and everything he'd hoped he'd see when he'd managed to spirit the garment out of the apartment that morning hidden in his briefcase. "Oh, Ty," she gushed in a totally un-Domme-like voice. "You're wearing the indigo basque I got you? The matching panties and stockings, too?"

He nodded, and she batted away a few happy tears. "You look beautiful."

"Well, hell, Tall Booty, it is Tuesday, after all," he reminded her with an exaggerated sniff. "But Thursday's comin' and I promise you - when it does? So will you." At her slightly nervous laugh, he struck a lewd pose. "Want me to go fix my face," Mae West's voice purred, "And, ah . . . get into somethin' a little less comfortable, big gal?"

"Oh, yeah," she breathed in aroused wonder, "Go in there and get rid of the rest of those silly boy clothes, and . . . let's see . . . oh, yeah, slip into those 5-inch ankle-busters with the little padlocks. I think I may need a little maid service later. Speaking of which, I'll put the food away. Oh . . . you naughty little bitch. You got Chinese because you know I think it tastes even better when it's heated up again. Are you trying to play me, little Miss top-from-the bottom?"

"Would I do that?" Ty said as he headed off to slip into something less comfortable.

"MmmmmmmmmMMMMMMmm," Juana purred as she stretched out in their bed, rubbing up against Ty like a contented cat. They were both comfortably nude, their dual hungers temporarily sated by two sessions of intense love-making - one kinky, the other sweetly vanilla - sandwiched around pigging out on Ty's take-out offering. ShaJuana never did get her maid service . . . but then, there would be lots of other Tuesdays.

A lifetime of them.

"And how was YOUR day, darlin'?" she asked him as she rolled over top to lay on and look down at her husband.

Ty wrapped his arms around her and held her close, reveling in the weight of her body pressing down on his own. "Good - very good, in fact. I pulled off a real coup during the directing lab today."

Juana nuzzled his throat before resting her head on his shoulder. "Oh? How so?"

"Yeah. Remember me telling you about Kelly? The Goth-girl actress who is really shy?"

"Um hmm. You were worried she wouldn't be able to drop her Goth mask and do the more mainstream role called for in the play you're working on."

He nodded and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. "Yup. Well, we had a bit of a breakthrough today. I took her aside and told her about Tina - about how I used to work in a dungeon . . as a girl . . and what made it work was to remember that I was not the role. That when the end of the day came, the role stayed behind and it didn't touch me, so I - the real me - couldn't possibly be embarrassed by anything the role required me to do."

"Used to work in a dungeon?!?" Juana yelped, coming up onto her hands and knees, straddling Ty so she could glare down into his face. "You told her about Tina? About the cross-dressing? About . . .well, EVERYTHING?"

Ty grinned at the stunned amazement in his wife's face. "Well, yeah, I did."

"And you LEFT it like that?"

Gotcha, Ty thought. "Sort of. After she did her scene? Quite well, I might add, which is why I said it was a very good day because she was sure she was gonna blow it. Anyway, she came and asked me if what I'd said was true."

"Okay, white-boy," Juana growled. "What did you do? Really."

He shrugged as best he could with her full weight bearing down on him, and told her "I did my best stern-and-strict Domme face at her and asked her if she thought I would EVER submit to being some namby-pamby little spanking slut."

Ty laughed and said, "It was like reading a book, watching her thoughts flash across her face. At first she looked like she was gonna pee her panties for making me mad. Like she had insulted me by even thinking such a thing was possible. Then she got angry for herself, for being lied to. Then it finally clicked and she realized that it didn't matter what was true. What mattered was making someone believe the character. You could just see the gears behind her eyes realigning themselves into a new engine. She's gonna be a great actress someday, if she can harness that."

A laughing, giggling armful of woman collapsed atop him. "Oh, I wish I had been there to see that!" Juana managed to get out between gasps. "Namby-pamby spanking slut, eh? Sounds like fun. Let me go get my sorority paddle, cutey!"

Instead, her husband wrapped his arms about her with that surprising, unexpected strength that always thrilled her to her girlish core. Then he rolled atop her, and began seducing her the old-fashioned way with mouth and hand, passion and love.

 

 

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End of Acting Dominant © 2008,2013 Tigger