Chapter 34 - An Invitation to A Wedding
That promise became the basis for the most intense period of
our lives, even more challenging than the steps in my transition from
Randall to Brandy. This time our training was not as slave girls, in
bondage or deliberately revealing clothes. Instead, we wore
conventional exercise outfits, leotards and tights. Most of it was
spent without any shoes, let alone high-heels. While he was teaching
us this time, we even called Lord Odysseus, Erik, as a sign of his
status as teacher more than owner. He had painted steps like those in
a dance studio on a padded portion of his back yard. Our task was to
dance from one step to another in numbered sequence, a total of
ninety-seven steps. The first time I tried I couldn't even make five
before I lost my balance and fell. Kelly, weighted by her beautiful
large tits had an even harder time, though her natural grace was much
better than mine. It truly was dancing, not fighting. Grace and a
sense of rhythm were more valuable tools than strength, though we
found we needed to develop our leg and arm strength in order to make
the twirling leaps required by the patterns.
Erik was a wonderful teacher, truly capturing the old meaning
of the term master, not limited to the slave owner concept. He could
sense when we were getting frustrated with our lack of progress and
would quietly dance the pattern with casual grace, demonstrating that
indeed it could be done. He never gave us specific directions on how
to place our arms, or lean our hips since he realized that we would
need to develop an inner sense of the dance to succeed. It couldn't
be accomplished as an intellectual exercise. But his demonstrations
showed us things to try, sometimes as subtle as spreading your fingers
apart as you waved your hand. At least, they showed us things to try
when we finally learned to concentrate enough to pick up on what was
going on.
For a while, Kelly was making better progress than I was,
since she had always been a better dancer. One time (more than once
really, but one specific time) I had become so frustrated I was ready
to quit, and I complained.
"This is stupid, I'll never be able to do it, and it's not
good for anything anyway."
Milord Odysseus didn't say a thing, at least not immediately.
He walked over to the middle of the mats, and only then said, "Attack
me."
"What?"
He said nothing, knowing that I had understood him all right.
I was mad enough, frustrated enough that I decided I'd take him up on
his offer, and I charged at him with the intent to put a shoulder into
him. I was never very athletic as Ran but I figured I could at least
run into him. Milord Odysseus stood there quietly, waiting for me
with poised balance. I picked up speed and aimed at his belly button,
knowing that this would be the hardest part of his body to get moving
sideways. The next thing I knew I was plowing the pads with my nose,
grateful he had me put on a bra so I didn't scrape my sensitive
nipples.
"That was steps twelve and thirteen. Keep practicing, you'll
get there."
I was now even more frustrated, so angry that hot tears were
leaking from my clenched eyes. I picked myself up and went to the
side of the area to sulk. Kelly stopped her own practice and started
to come to comfort me.
"Angel!" Lord Odysseus said sharply. He only called us by our
slave names when he was demanding absolute obedience. She paused,
then moved back to the start of the pattern, though she watched me
rather than resume her attempts to dance it.
I pouted alone, irritated at myself, at Lord Odysseus, at
Kelly, at everyone within reach. Lord Odysseus didn't say anything,
he just started dancing the pattern, forward and back, over and over.
Despite my anger I watched him move over the steps, flowing with easy
grace, his power controlled with razor sharpness that looked casual
and effortless. I noticed how much like Vixen he moved, yet how
different. We had never seen her dance the pattern, but Erik had told
us she was able to. However, we had seen her move and even in her
armbinder she had been unbelievably graceful, with a liquid flow that
was less powerful than Erik, but even more beautiful.
As I sat there I moved from frustration and anger to
self-pity, wanting to be Vixen, truly a woman who happened to have a
cock, rather than a man who looked gorgeous. I could never have that,
and it had cost me Rocky, my massive masculine lover. A motion from
Kelly as she started to dance the pattern again caught my eye, and I
realized my unique nature had allowed me to share with her a love that
Vixen could never experience. There were compensations for being who
and what I was.
That realization became a watershed point for me. No longer
would I wish to be what I was not. Now, I began to celebrate what I
was. I wasn't Vixen, and never would be. Instead, I would be myself,
a unique person, with a special ability to look like a beautiful woman
and with a delightful tool to use in sharing love with Kelly. I
studied Erik as he danced the pattern, comparing his motions to
Kelly's and began to notice differences in their approaches, even on
the same steps. His motion was decidedly more powerful just as his
body was stronger, but it was also refined to account for his
different body proportions and distribution of weight. My own body
shape was somewhere in between their examples, and I began to see how
to use what I was, rather than trying to force myself to act like
someone I wasn't.
Without saying a word I moved back to the head of the pattern
and began to dance the steps. I quit looking at the painted footmarks
directly, requiring my body to remember the sequence while I kept my
head up and relaxed into the motion, truly dancing for the first time.
The steps I already knew flowed by my feet without effort, and I
reached the step that had frustrated me before I knew it, then paused
with easy balance when I realized I didn't know where to move next.
Kelly applauded from where she sprawled on the mat after her latest
tumble in her own attempt, and Erik smiled with true pleasure, his
pride in a somewhat-difficult student clear in his eyes.
I looked for the next step, which was back in the direction I
had come. It would require me to stop my forward motion, just as I
now had stopped, but it was so far away I knew I couldn't just leap
there from a standing start. I would somehow need to redirect my
momentum toward the next position rather than interrupt the flow of
the dance. I stood there on one foot analyzing the pattern while Erik
returned to the beginning of his own and danced it again. His eyes
met mine as he executed the step I was considering, a small grin at my
expense lurking behind the relaxed smile of pleasure from the beauty
of the dance. Of course! Quit analyzing and just dance. All I
needed to know was where I was heading, and to let my body dance the
motion, not my brain.
I started over, since learning the pattern always required a
start from the beginning, and flowed through my newest step toward the
reversed one I had been analyzing, then fell on my shapely ass,
rolling with an ungraceful thump as my legs got completely tangled.
This time, however, I ended up laughing rather than crying and moved
back to begin again. That day I gained that step, but not the next.
Still, two steps in one day was a lot better than I had been doing,
and I made reasonably steady progress after that.
Kelly and I were returning from our training session one
evening a couple of months after we started training when we saw a
strange car in the driveway to Billie Jo's house. Erik had arranged
for maintenance on it while he was training Vixen, and we had assumed
that Rocky had picked up the task when he became her owner. However,
the handyman / cleaning crew usually came during the day, and this was
late in the evening.
"Do you recognize that car?" I asked Kelly.
"No, and did you notice there are lights on inside?" she
replied.
"Yes. Is that a good sign or a bad one? Burglars would
probably leave the lights off," I mused.
As we pulled into our drive, our concerns were put to rest as
Rocky came out of Billie Jo's house, trailed by Vixen. It was clearly
Vixen, not Billie Jo, though she was dressed in a snug miniskirt and
tight blouse not too different from what we wore, plus the long wig
that matched my own. She wasn't bound, however, and wore high-heeled
sandals that gave her the height to be compatible with Rocky.
"Hello," Rocky called with a cheerful wave. Vixen stood
behind him, smiling with inner joy but focused totally on her master.
"Hi," I replied, and Kelly waved.
"Can we come talk with you?" he asked.
"Sure, come on in," I replied, and led the way to our house.
Kelly and I had gotten cleaned up after our workout at Erik's
and looked cool and fresh, so we just headed for the sitting room and
offered to fix drinks. Rocky told us what he wanted and also what to
bring Vixen, who hadn't spoken, yet. She seemed totally subservient
to him, not from fear or forced control, but with the joy of having
all her needs seen to without effort on her part. She moved like a
heavenly body in orbit around her master, the sun source of her world.
"Hello, Billie Jo," I said, experimenting a little.
"Hello, Brandy," she replied without hesitation. "I actually
prefer to be called Vixen, now, if you don't mind."
"Not at all," I smiled. It was clear she was consumed by
Rocky from her own joyful choice, not coercion, and reveled in her new
life. Good for her.
"So," Kelly said, "have you had dinner? Let us take you out
on the town, tonight."
"No, thanks," Rocky replied with his own smile. I was proud
of Kelly for not asking questions about why they were visiting us
after so long. True friends should always be welcome.
"We came to ask you a favor," he continued. "Vix and I are
getting married, and we want to you be bridesmaids."
"Unless, Brandy, you would prefer to be best man," he grinned.
I let the long-dormant smile of cool amusement appear as I
struggled to control my surprise. Not at his announcement of their
marriage, that had been obvious from about three microseconds after
they first saw each other, but at his casual reminder that I was
really a man. Was that some subtle dig, to highlight that I wasn't a
real woman as his Vixen was? At first I was hurt, but within a
heartbeat or two I realized that he was so focused on Vixen and his
love for her that there just wasn't room for anyone else in his life.
He was building distance between us, or perhaps just letting me know
about the distance that had already formed. Only a few weeks before I
would have stayed hurt by his comment, but now I raised my eyes to
Kelly, whose eyes were moving toward mine with the simultaneous
reactions of the near-telepathy we shared, and there was a mirror of
my cool amusement in her own eyes. We had each other, she told me
silently, and didn't need anyone else. Let them have each other as
well. I nodded slightly in agreement and my smile warmed up when I
turned back to Rocky.
"We'd be proud to do whatever you'd like," I challenged him to
choose his image of me.
"Then Brandy, we'd like you to be maid of honor, and Kelly,
we'd like you for the other bridesmaid. Odysseus has already agreed
to be best man and the captain of the ship we met on will be the other
groomsman."
"When, where, and what do we wear?" Kelly asked with a grin
that had warmed up as well.
"Vix," Rocky said, giving her permission to speak.
"We want to be married at sea, on another of Rocky's ships.
We're planning for a spring cruise down the west coast of Mexico, so
bring a bikini. I thought we might discuss the bridesmaid dresses a
little. Do you have any ideas."
"It's your wedding," I said. "We'll wear whatever complements
you the best."
Glancing at her master for confirmation of his continuing
desire for her to speak, Vixen broke from her cool control to giggle,
"Well, what I had in mind was a sort of Gone With The Wind approach,
with tight corsets, enormous skirts, and flamboyant bosoms."
"Sounds terrific!" exclaimed Kelly. "I can't wait."
I smiled as well, but my eyes were on Rocky. His pride in his
beautiful fiancee was clear in his eyes, and it was clear that he was
as devoted to her as she was to him. Lord Odysseus had done well for
them both, and I realized that he had done me a service as well.
Wild, energetic sex with everything that moved was fun, and I expected
Kelly and I might have another few adventures. But nothing was a
wonderful as the time she and I shared alone. Losing Rocky was going
to turn out to be one of the best things in a long series that had
happened to me.
Vixen must have told Rocky about Kelly's wonderful sense of
style, because he sat patiently as they discussed some of the details
for the wedding. I caught his eyes for just a moment and motioned for
him to join me. His first impulse was to check on Vixen, always aware
at a level too deep for conscious thought of his responsibility toward
her, but she was chatting happily with Kelly so he nodded and stood
up. We went out onto the patio in our back yard and I turned to face
him.
"Why did you offer for me to be the best man?" I asked.
"Because you are a man," he said, "and we wanted you to have
your choice."
"Did you think I would choose to be reminded that I was really
a man under my clothes?"
At this he lost the unquestioning attitude of control that he
had displayed when he was with Vixen. He showed embarrassment and
weakness that revealed just how demanding it was to be constantly
dominant.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just thinking about how similar
you look to Vixen, and somehow the hidden difference seemed very
important to me. I guess I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Don't worry about it, the difference is important to me,
too," I laughed, defusing the tension. "You showed me, and Vixen,
that what you and I had between us has burned away in the fire of love
you and Vixen have for each other. I wouldn't have it any other way.
But I hope you don't intend to let my secret out with others. Only
you, Vixen, Kelly, and Erik know about me."
"I'd never tell anyone else," he promised. "You're still a
special friend to both of us, and I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."
I smiled to show agreement, but I knew what he really meant is
that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me unless it benefited Vixen. In
his world, she was first and there really was no second place. Oh,
well, that's the way it should be. In fact, I had come to realize that
I felt the same way about Kelly. Nonetheless, I didn't imagine we'd
be seeing much of them after the wedding. There were at least some
memories of me that would interfere with their images of each other.
I kissed him lightly on the cheek and turned back to the house,
letting the orbit of my hips remind him that he had been attracted to
me, at least once upon a time. Yet I could feel the wall between us
now, and realized what he must have felt when he saw Kelly and I
together. I hadn't ever noticed it before because my relationship
with him had been so different from my love for Kelly that my mind
couldn't even conceive of him in competition with her. Perhaps I
should have been flattered that his mind could conceive of me in
competition with Vixen. We weren't the same, though, and in matters
more fundamental than plumbing. My own personality was dominant, too,
and I was beginning to realize that Rocky and I were never really
compatible. In fact, though I hadn't understood it when I asked him
to come talk with me, this little scene had primarily been to
re-establish my own control over our relationship, a control I had
unconsciously exercised back before we had created Lord Atlas.
Back in the living room, Kelly and Vixen were wrapping up
their plans. It seemed they had the basic wedding arrangements
already settled. Kelly would get our bridesmaid dresses, not
surprisingly the color selected was the pale ice-blue that
complemented her eyes so well. I grinned at her when she announced
their choice, letting her know I didn't mind at all, dark colors
wouldn't look good on the women in the wedding party.
"So, what else will be happening on this cruise?" I asked.
"Well, we thought we might have a costume party," Rocky
grinned.
"Let me guess what the theme of the party might be," I
offered.
His wide grin and Vixen's strangled giggle confirmed my
insight without words.
"Good. You've never met the Lady Raven, Rocky. I think
you'll be impressed."
The immediate response visible in Vixen's nipples showed she
hadn't forgotten the Lady Raven, either. Rocky was so attuned to her
that he picked up on her excitement immediately, and I could see a
pensive expression linger in his eyes for a moment, but his confidence
in his relationship with Vixen was strong enough not to make him
really worry, while I was feeling better and better about our new
relationship, recognizing it was based on a truer foundation than we
had before.
The definite schedule of the wedding cruise provided an
additional incentive for us to learn the patterns of the martial dance
that Erik had introduced to us. I had overtaken Kelly and was the
first to reach the final step, on the forward path. She passed me for
a while as we learned to dance the pattern in reverse, but we finished
at nearly the same time. It was no longer necessary to demonstrate
the benefits of the dance to us, we were moving with such fluid grace
that the martial aspects seemed unimportant. Hopefully we would never
find occasion to use them anyway. Just succeeding at the dance and
obtaining the intensely sensual motion that resulted made the long
hours of practice worth while. When I finally stopped at the first
step of the pattern, after working all the way forward and back, Kelly
greeted me with a warm hug and a kiss. To my surprise, Lord Odysseus
did also. We hadn't had a sexual relation while he had been teaching
us, but his embrace indicated a graduation ceremony might be in order.
It turned out I was right about the graduation ceremony, but
wrong about when. We just moved into another level of training as
Lord Odysseus brought out shoes with clunky wide heels a few inches
high, much less attractive than our normal style, and much heavier.
"You still need to learn to dance in high heels," he reminded
us. "These wider heels will protect the mats. Good luck."
I looked at Kelly to meet her simultaneous gaze and we groaned
in unison, then giggled with pleasure at yet another proof of the
closeness we had achieved.
"Back to square one," she sighed.
"Actually, it's step one. Even my foot isn't a square," I
teased.
"These ugly heels make us both look like we have square feet,"
she complained with a grin to show she understood the necessity.
"Then let's work through this quickly, so we don't have to
wear them long."
Easier said than done, but we made our progress. It wasn't as
bad the second time through since we already understood the most
important issue, to let ourselves dance rather than force the motions.
We also always knew where the next step was so we often could progress
through more than one at a time. When we could dance the pattern
wearing the medium-tall shoes, Erik moved us to a single pattern he
had painted inside his house, in a large salon that looked like a
ballroom.
"There are no pads on this one. Put on your regular sandals
and give it a try. I expect you'll have few bruises to take home
tonight, but you can get through it."
Walking in our towering shoes was more normal to us than the
shorter ones had been, and the flowing grace the pattern had already
given us lifted us to a more beautiful motion than any ordinary women
possessed. Nonetheless, the combination of sky-high heels and
convoluted pattern was the greatest challenge yet, and it took a few
bruises before we mastered it.
While we were working on this last phase in our training, we
were getting fitted for our bridesmaid dresses. They really were like
something from the antebellum south, incredibly elegant, incredibly
flattering. I could hardly wait for the chance to show off our new,
beautiful gowns and felt like spring would never arrive.
There was one problem, though, and I brought it up with Erik
after one of our training sessions, using my beautiful contralto voice
with the strength of Raven, "Lord Odysseus, granting us the privilege
of your training in the dance has interfered with your normal
lifestyle. Your slave girl Vixen has moved on, and you haven't
obtained another while we have been occupying your time."
"You're right, Lady Raven," he replied, picking up on my
characterization. "I might have to ask to borrow Angel for an evening
to go to a bondage party. Perhaps I'll take Vivid as well."
"I'm sure they'd both enjoy it immensely, but I have another
suggestion. I know a woman who would love to be trained, though she
might not realize it yet herself. Would you be interested?"
"Perhaps," he answered. "Normally I don't commit to slaves
without examining them first, but I would place great faith in your
recommendation."
I explained the plan to them, provoking a silvery giggle from
Kelly and a thoughtful, introspective smile from Lord Odysseus.
"Yes, that might work very well," he agreed.
The next bondage party was coming up, and I made the necessary
arrangements. When the time was approaching to go to the party, Angel
presented herself to me in her beautiful, tiny slave dress. Though
Lord Odysseus had joined us for the ride to the party site, I placed
the restraints on Angel myself, using the elegant golden chain bondage
that I had originally designed, complete with hobble. Lord Odysseus
had no slave of his own, yet, but that was part of the plan.
Exactly on time, the limousine I had arranged for showed up,
driven by Cheryl. She stepped from the car to open our door, her eyes
again glowing when she saw Angel in bondage. I grinned at her,
provoking a blush, but Milord Odysseus gazed at her in frank
appraisal, provoking an even greater heat to her face, and a visible
response in her own nipples. That had been the only remaining
question as far as I was concerned. I knew Cheryl responded sensually
to advances from a woman, but I didn't know if she liked men as well.
By obvious demonstration, she did.
"Good evening, Cheryl," I said, "this is Lord Odysseus. He
will be joining us, tonight."
"Yes, ma'am," she replied.
"Now, Cheryl, I already told you not to call me ma'am," I said
firmly. "Tonight you will address me as Milady Raven."
"Yes, Milady Raven," she said, instantly accepting my
dominance.
I placed Angel on the jumpseat, strapped in safely and
reasonably comfortable. In the bag I carried with me were both gags,
the red slave dress, and another set of chains. Our plan was for
Cheryl to become the slave of Lord Odysseus tonight. It looked like
we were on our way.
We used the trip to the party to discuss training methods,
mostly those of Lord Odysseus. He described techniques I had never
tried, from either side, but they provoked my sensitive nipples to
show through the tight bustier of my leather dress. Angel's nipples
perked up, too, and her scent filled the air of the limousine. I knew
Cheryl was listening in, and I would have bet her own hot buttons were
hard and full. When we reached the hotel we laughed to see a sign for
limousine parking that led to a side entrance to the hotel so bondage
party attendees wouldn't have to go through the main lobby. Cheryl
bounced out of the car to get our door for us, standing politely as I
swung my long legs out of the seat. Our parking location was well
shielded from on-lookers, so I decided to bring things to a head
immediately.
"Cheryl, we have a problem that you could solve for us," I
began our seduction.
"Yes, ma'am?" she replied.
I let my amused smile go cold while I stared at her. In a
moment she realized her mistake and said, "I mean, yes Milady Raven?"
This was a critical point, if she withdrew from my control our
plan would fail, but instead we saw her nipple points appear, more
prominent than ever as she accepted my dominance once again. I let my
smile show amusement again and continued as though her mistake were
unremarkable.
"Lord Odysseus has recently sold his slave girl and requires
another in order to gain entrance to the party tonight. You have been
granted the privilege of being his slave for the evening. If you show
special talent, he may consent to keep you as his slave for an
extended period."
Her mouth opened in shock, but her cheeks flamed with heat and
I imagined I could taste a new flavor in the musky scent surrounding
us, a delicate fragrance subtly different than Angel's. I hadn't
asked to if she wanted to be a slave. I just informed her of her
role. She could have refused, but I knew she would not.
"What do I need to do?" she asked me.
"Lord Odysseus will be your master," I replied, then stepped
away from the door.
Lord Odysseus got out of the car with confident power, the
mysterious strength of his eyes capturing Cheryl in the instant it
took for her fall into their gray depths.
"Remove your clothes," he ordered bluntly while I reached past
him to get Angel from her seat. Cheryl began to strip out of her
chauffeur's jacket immediately, then removed her tiny shorts. She
hesitated for a moment while she stood in her underwear, looking
around to see if we were observed. When she looked back to Lord
Odysseus his eyes showed a hard, unyielding cold that made her mistake
very clear.
"I'm sorry, Milord Odysseus," she began.
"Silence," he ordered. "Your penalty for inattention will be
silence for the rest of the evening."
Without glancing around he held out his hand to me, and I
placed one of the ball gags in it. The idea seemed appropriate for
Angel as well, and I turned to her with the other one, to be greeted
by her open mouth. Cheryl saw this response and copied it, accepting
her own gag. Her fingers completed their job of removing her clothes,
stopping only at Lord Odysseus's order when she reached to remove her
shoes. Her body was not as deliciously curved as Angel's, few women
had that privilege, but it was certainly more abundant than either
Vixen or Vivid. She had obviously not required the attention of a
cosmetic surgeon to achieve her sensuous shape. Her nipples remained
extended, whether from the cold of exposure to the evening air or from
erotic arousal was unclear, and unimportant. She was beautiful and
she would be aroused before long anyway.
Though she was gagged, she had no other restraints at that
point, so Lord Odysseus handed her the wisp of red slave dress. It
took her a moment to decide how to put it on, even with Angel's
example, then another moment to realize how little there was when she
had it in place. Cheryl had kept her panties on, not realizing that
Angel wore none, but Lord Odysseus let her keep them. I wondered how
long that would continue.
"Keep your head up and your shoulders back," he ordered. "I
will consider it disobedience if you allow yourself to become exposed.
I will also consider it disobedience if your nipples do not clearly
show through the dress."
This comment made them pop sharply into sight through the
material, her excitement at her condition building moment by moment.
Lord Odysseus twirled his finger and she turned around, shivering in
anticipation. He placed her collar around her neck, provoking an
uncontrollable tremor through her shoulders. Then he put the cuffs
around her wrists and ankles. We had long realized that anticipation
was a very important part of the submission and actual restraints on
motion were only applied after the slave had a chance to absorb the
feel of steel against her skin. This had worked wonderfully well with
Angel and Huntress, then been confirmed with Vivid. Lord Odysseus was
himself familiar with this technique, of course, and used it whenever
he first bound a slave.
In our plan, we had decided that Lord Odysseus would not touch
Cheryl in any intimate way at least until she requested it, and only
after the party in any event. Therefore, before he bound her with the
golden chain, he ordered her to remove her panties herself. She
hesitated for in instant, causing a chill to form in her master's
eyes, then quickly complied. The golden chain was draped from her
neck to her ankles, her wrists were bound to it and her ankles to the
hobble, and we had two beautiful slaves. I hadn't brought the
vibrator eggs, tonight, expecting that might be a little too much for
Cheryl's first experience, so we hooked leashes to their collars and
approached the party. I still had their nipple clamps in my bag,
though neither slave girl knew that.
My reputation as Raven preceded us, and a way was cleared to
the registration table. Angel and I were admitted freely, of course,
but Lord Odysseus paid the fee for himself and his new slave girl.
When they asked for her name, for the contest, Lord Odysseus replied,
"She has no name, yet, and we will not be competing."
He obviously intended to name his new slave girl after her
personality was more apparent, or her talents. However, it was a
shock to her to realize that her owner controlled all aspects of her
life, including her name. The new slave's attention became even more
focused on her master as she tried to become sufficiently pleasing to
earn a name. Unfortunately, the first noticeable attention she
received was another reprimand. Or perhaps fortunately for her,
considering the nature of the punishment.
"Slave Girl, you are disobeying me again," Lord Odysseus
declared sternly.
Her eyes widened in dismay. She wasn't sure what she had
done, and she had certainly been concentrating on her master, trying
to comply with his every desire. That was the problem, in fact, she
had been so busy analyzing what he might want, that she had forgotten
to allow herself to enjoy the sensuality of the situation and remain
visibly excited. Her nipple points had disappeared within the soft
folds of her dress. Lord Odysseus reached out to pinch them through
the material as though he were turning on a machine, not caressing a
woman's breasts, but they popped up sharply again, both at his touch,
and at the pretty slave's excitement at this reminder of her position.
He then looked around for the appropriate table of implements, but I
interjected myself into his attention.
"Lord Odysseus, perhaps you might find these useful," I said
as I offered him one of the sets of nipple clamps.
"Why, thank you Lady Raven, these are perfect."
His new slave girl gasped around her gag at the thought of the
sensations the clamps would inflict on her. She had seen Angel and
Vivid wearing these clamps and knew they weren't desperately painful,
but she thought they must be incredibly uncomfortable. She was wrong.
My own nipple points pulsed strongly with the memory from personal
experience that if applied correctly, they were fascinating and
intensely compelling, but not painful. Still, she was new to this and
obviously frightened. I decided to help reassure her by
demonstration.
"Angel, I think you should share this stimulation with your
slave sister," I said, drawing forth the other linked clamps from my
purse.
Her own nipples were flamboyantly erect, straining at the
front of her thin dress and I quickly attached both clamps to their
proper use. She gasped as the clamps were tightened, swaying slightly
as the sensations flooded through her, though it was the remembered
intensity of their removal more than the current stimulation that
really captured her emotions. I hadn't ever fastened them to her
before, so I wasn't entirely sure I got the tightness correct, but her
eyes betrayed no real pain, just intense excitement, so I figured I
must have gotten it about right. Lord Odysseus repeated the procedure
on his own slave. Her gasp around her gag was even more intense than
Angel's had been, though it wasn't clear what the cause was for her
response. She might have just been unused to such intense
stimulation, or she might have been unusually responsive. If the
latter were the case, Lord Odysseus might have found his next
long-term slave girl.
Our purpose for coming to this party was primarily to obtain
Cheryl as a slave girl for Lord Odysseus. As soon as she accepted his
control, we had met that objective. Nonetheless, we spent a little
time at the party, recognizing the benefits to our slaves of the
exciting atmosphere of desire that would be present. Our slave girls
responded wonderfully. Their eyes shown with the attention they
received, their nipples, now constrained to be erect by the clamps,
were so intensely stimulated they appeared to throb visibly with each
beat of their racing hearts. A continuous scent of female arousal
wafted around them as we strolled at the slow pace compatible with
their ankle hobbles. I enjoyed the party as well, proud of the beauty
of my slave girl, and of myself. Succeeding at the pattern dance had
given me a lightness on my feet, even while wearing my thigh-high
spiked boots, that made me feel more intensely alive, more sensual
than I had ever done before. In its own way, this training from Lord
Odysseus had helped me even more than his sexual training, incredible
though that had been.
The training in the dance had a more practical benefit as
well, though. My reputation as Lady Raven had been set, in part, by
my physical dominance of the erstwhile "Master Ajax" at the first
party where we appeared. He had demanded to buy Angel, finally laying
hands on me to try and get my agreement. I had surprised him, and
myself, by quickly knocking him to the floor and rendering him
helpless. That sort of surprise wouldn't work again. Nonetheless I
had become a target for the "young gunslinger" types who wanted to try
me out physically, especially the cowardly ones who thought a woman
would be easier to overpower. The intense training in motion and body
control that Lord Odysseus had provided to us allowed me to recognize
preparations for attack in one of the would-be masters at the party.
He had a slave girl, of sorts, who was not very attractive but had
consented to wear a light string around her waist as a pseudo-leash.
As he approached me his pretend slave followed along, no subservience
in her attitude. I expected they both wanted a softly feminine slave
to dominate in compensation for their own lack of true character
strength.
"How much for the one in white?" the man asked. His badge
proclaimed him to be "Master Colossus" and he was certainly big, but
his bulk was largely fat, with little muscle definition.
"She's not for sale, especially not to one such as you," I
sneered. This time my expression was no act, I really found this slug
repulsive.
"Listen, Miss High-and-Mighty Bitch, we've got good money, and
you owe us at least a fair price so we can see if we want her."
"I owe you nothing," I said in dismissal, and turned to walk
toward another set of tables, not exactly giving way to him, yet not
forcing him to move from my way, either.
His pseudo-slave was vocally urging him to "teach me a lesson"
while we moved away, and then I heard the sound of his accelerating
footsteps behind me. I judged there was time, so I casually handed
Angel's leash to Lord Odysseus and twirled in a sequence from the
middle of the pattern, grateful now that we had been forced to learn
the dance even while wearing towering spiked heels. My shapely form
swayed gracefully out of his way, my flowing arm motions intercepted
his neck as he passed and helped him to overbalance just far enough
his running feet couldn't quite keep up with his heavy bulk.
Nonetheless, he tried, accelerating even faster for a few more steps
as he frantically worked to get his feet caught up with his center of
gravity. He failed. With a sliding crash he bellied in, scraping his
nose on the floor, pinching his round stomach over his too-tight belt.
I expected he might have cried out from the pain that was the only
return he had earned from his attack, but he probably didn't have the
breath.
Lord Odysseus casually handed Angel's leash back to me,
boredom carefully written on his face to highlight the absolute
superiority we enjoyed over the other owners at the party. My own
face displayed the look of cool amusement that announced my
willingness to keep helping others make a fool of themselves as long
as they came at me, a look I trained on Colossus's pseudo-slave. One
elegant arched eyebrow was sufficient to ask her if she intended to
repeat his stupidity, but she just glared at me and moved toward her
compatriot, giving us a wide berth.
"Well done, Lady Raven," Lord Odysseus congratulated me. "I
see by your own excitement that you enjoyed that. Don't get to enjoy
it too much, though, or you'll lose the perspective that makes you a
good master."
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I enjoy the grace of the
dance, but I only enjoy humiliating slugs like that fat pig. Only a
mistress who can control herself is truly qualified to control
others." Lord Odysseus's pretty slave girl heard my comment, and I
saw an introspective expression in her eyes for a moment.
"Lord Odysseus, could I speak with your slave for a moment?" I
asked.
He nodded, offering me her leash.
"No, thank you. I'll talk as we walk along," I said, slowing
my pace so that I now walked beside the girl he owned.
"Pretty slave, you may not realize it, yet, but you may have
the opportunity to be trained by the most accomplished master I can
imagine. He has trained me in the proper use of my body and mind,
both to achieve indescribable sexual fulfillment, and to optimize
every motion I make. Yet as you can see, he has not broken my spirit.
Instead he has made me happier than ever. I needed only a little of
his attention, since I have had the benefit of Angel's love for
several years to help in my own development, but I would gladly
surrender myself to him for any and all things he asked of me. Pray
that he offers you the chance to become his slave on a continuing
basis, as I did."
Angel had kept up with the new girl as I talked so she could
hear every word. When I talked about my own slave, she had rubbed her
body up against me, nuzzling to show her happiness in the only way
possible while bound and gagged. When I had mentioned my willingness
to be Lord Odysseus's slave, though I was clearly a capable and
dominant mistress already, Angel had nodded as well. I smiled at her,
not begrudging her desire for another master, for the right master.
It was this acceptance, more than anything else, that influenced the
new girl to commit herself to Lord Odysseus. Our absolute trust, not
only that we would not be harmed, but that we would be wonderfully
pleased with service to Lord Odysseus, convinced her to give it a try.
I could see the resolution in her eyes, a resolution to win the
privilege of absolute subservience to the compelling man who owned
her.
The few others who had been demonstrating by the tension in
their bodies that they were considering a challenge to us quickly
shrunk in on themselves and moved away. The murmur of my latest
exploit spread through the crowd faster than we could have walked even
if not limited to the speed of our hobbled slaves, curiosity mixed
with respect as they wondered what had happened. Most of the direct
witnesses probably didn't have the perceptions to even realize what I
had done, seeing only the liquid glide of the dance and not the subtle
assist that had caused the man to fall. Nonetheless, they gave us
respectful distance, and certainly no further challenges. We left the
party room at an easy pace, strolling toward where the limousine was
parked.
When we reached it, Lord Odysseus dropped his slave girl's
leash and motioned her to stand still. He reached up and removed her
gag, allowing her a few seconds to loosen the stiffness in her jaw,
then asked, "All right, girl, now is your choice. It will be your
last free choice until I decide otherwise, which may be some time.
Will you accept me as your lord and master?"
She dropped her eyes, staring at the clamps exciting her
nipples, and replied in a small, quiet voice, "yes."
He made no comment, but displeasure showed in his eyes. After
a moment, she noticed his frown and a look of dismay filled her own
eyes as she tried to decide what she had done wrong. He offered no
sign of specific transgressions, obviously intending that she should
reason it out for herself. In a moment, she straightened her
shoulders and lifted her head, realizing that Lord Odysseus neither
desired nor accepted weak, broken spirits.
"Yes! Milord Odysseus, I beg you to grant me the privilege of
being owned by you," she proudly announced.
"Better," he curtly accepted her request. "Lady Raven, will
you drive us home? I will start training this girl immediately."
"Certainly," I replied. "Can Angel be of any help in her
training?"
"Why, yes, she could be. Thank you."
I offered him Angel's leash and moved to the door of the
limousine. Cheryl's clothes were inside already, but I had put the
keys in my own purse. In a moment, I had the doors unlocked and was
adjusting the driver's seat to my larger size. Lord Odysseus took
care of the slave girls, of course, positioning them in accordance
with his plans for the ride home. I watched his training session in
the rear view mirror, listening to the words that accompanied the
physical attention he gave them. Angel was allowed the privilege of
sucking his cock, demonstrating an uninhibited commitment to his
pleasure. In return, he had the new slave lick and suck at Angel's
jewel, lifting her near to the point of no return. While this moment
was approaching, he caressed the new girl's pleasure nubbin, bringing
her to a state of intensity that was only the first on a matchless
journey of development, but was already more than she had ever
experienced. When she was ready, Lord Odysseus entered her from
behind, using his exquisite skill to bring them both the very brink of
ecstasy just as Angel reached her own moment of truth. Lord Odysseus
obviously knew the benefit of the nipple clamps as he yanked them from
Angel and the new girl in quick succession, triggering screams of
uncontrollable emotion at the overwhelming sensation. His own
pleasure, incidental except as a sign of acceptance at the new girl's
skill, exploded within her. Her eyes were below the level of the
seat, but I knew from my own experience that they would now show a
commitment to him in a way that consumed her utterly, not limited to
the intellectual decision to accept his training she had already
expressed.
When I reached our house, from which Lord Odysseus would take
the limousine and his new girl to his own home, both of the pretty
slaves were sleeping on the floor of the car. None of their bonds had
been removed, except for their gags and the nipple clamps, but their
faces showed only deep relaxation, completely at peace, completely
comfortable, completely fulfilled. It seemed a shame to wake Angel,
so I gathered her into my arms, grateful for the strength I possessed
as a man and for the balance and body control of training in the dance
of the pattern.
I smiled to myself at the regrets I had once had because of
what I was not, now comfortable with what I was, more unique than I
had even once desired. Lord Odysseus smiled at me as well, his
attunement to me so complete it approached the telepathy that Kelly
and I shared and nodded his understanding of the cause for my own
satisfaction. In a moment, the limousine was gone and I carried Kelly
into the house.
Chapter 34 - An Invitation to A Wedding
That promise became the basis for the most intense period of
our lives, even more challenging than the steps in my transition from
Randall to Brandy. This time our training was not as slave girls, in
bondage or deliberately revealing clothes. Instead, we wore
conventional exercise outfits, leotards and tights. Most of it was
spent without any shoes, let alone high-heels. While he was teaching
us this time, we even called Lord Odysseus, Erik, as a sign of his
status as teacher more than owner. He had painted steps like those in
a dance studio on a padded portion of his back yard. Our task was to
dance from one step to another in numbered sequence, a total of
ninety-seven steps. The first time I tried I couldn't even make five
before I lost my balance and fell. Kelly, weighted by her beautiful
large tits had an even harder time, though her natural grace was much
better than mine. It truly was dancing, not fighting. Grace and a
sense of rhythm were more valuable tools than strength, though we
found we needed to develop our leg and arm strength in order to make
the twirling leaps required by the patterns.
Erik was a wonderful teacher, truly capturing the old meaning
of the term master, not limited to the slave owner concept. He could
sense when we were getting frustrated with our lack of progress and
would quietly dance the pattern with casual grace, demonstrating that
indeed it could be done. He never gave us specific directions on how
to place our arms, or lean our hips since he realized that we would
need to develop an inner sense of the dance to succeed. It couldn't
be accomplished as an intellectual exercise. But his demonstrations
showed us things to try, sometimes as subtle as spreading your fingers
apart as you waved your hand. At least, they showed us things to try
when we finally learned to concentrate enough to pick up on what was
going on.
For a while, Kelly was making better progress than I was,
since she had always been a better dancer. One time (more than once
really, but one specific time) I had become so frustrated I was ready
to quit, and I complained.
"This is stupid, I'll never be able to do it, and it's not
good for anything anyway."
Milord Odysseus didn't say a thing, at least not immediately.
He walked over to the middle of the mats, and only then said, "Attack
me."
"What?"
He said nothing, knowing that I had understood him all right.
I was mad enough, frustrated enough that I decided I'd take him up on
his offer, and I charged at him with the intent to put a shoulder into
him. I was never very athletic as Ran but I figured I could at least
run into him. Milord Odysseus stood there quietly, waiting for me
with poised balance. I picked up speed and aimed at his belly button,
knowing that this would be the hardest part of his body to get moving
sideways. The next thing I knew I was plowing the pads with my nose,
grateful he had me put on a bra so I didn't scrape my sensitive
nipples.
"That was steps twelve and thirteen. Keep practicing, you'll
get there."
I was now even more frustrated, so angry that hot tears were
leaking from my clenched eyes. I picked myself up and went to the
side of the area to sulk. Kelly stopped her own practice and started
to come to comfort me.
"Angel!" Lord Odysseus said sharply. He only called us by our
slave names when he was demanding absolute obedience. She paused,
then moved back to the start of the pattern, though she watched me
rather than resume her attempts to dance it.
I pouted alone, irritated at myself, at Lord Odysseus, at
Kelly, at everyone within reach. Lord Odysseus didn't say anything,
he just started dancing the pattern, forward and back, over and over.
Despite my anger I watched him move over the steps, flowing with easy
grace, his power controlled with razor sharpness that looked casual
and effortless. I noticed how much like Vixen he moved, yet how
different. We had never seen her dance the pattern, but Erik had told
us she was able to. However, we had seen her move and even in her
armbinder she had been unbelievably graceful, with a liquid flow that
was less powerful than Erik, but even more beautiful.
As I sat there I moved from frustration and anger to
self-pity, wanting to be Vixen, truly a woman who happened to have a
cock, rather than a man who looked gorgeous. I could never have that,
and it had cost me Rocky, my massive masculine lover. A motion from
Kelly as she started to dance the pattern again caught my eye, and I
realized my unique nature had allowed me to share with her a love that
Vixen could never experience. There were compensations for being who
and what I was.
That realization became a watershed point for me. No longer
would I wish to be what I was not. Now, I began to celebrate what I
was. I wasn't Vixen, and never would be. Instead, I would be myself,
a unique person, with a special ability to look like a beautiful woman
and with a delightful tool to use in sharing love with Kelly. I
studied Erik as he danced the pattern, comparing his motions to
Kelly's and began to notice differences in their approaches, even on
the same steps. His motion was decidedly more powerful just as his
body was stronger, but it was also refined to account for his
different body proportions and distribution of weight. My own body
shape was somewhere in between their examples, and I began to see how
to use what I was, rather than trying to force myself to act like
someone I wasn't.
Without saying a word I moved back to the head of the pattern
and began to dance the steps. I quit looking at the painted footmarks
directly, requiring my body to remember the sequence while I kept my
head up and relaxed into the motion, truly dancing for the first time.
The steps I already knew flowed by my feet without effort, and I
reached the step that had frustrated me before I knew it, then paused
with easy balance when I realized I didn't know where to move next.
Kelly applauded from where she sprawled on the mat after her latest
tumble in her own attempt, and Erik smiled with true pleasure, his
pride in a somewhat-difficult student clear in his eyes.
I looked for the next step, which was back in the direction I
had come. It would require me to stop my forward motion, just as I
now had stopped, but it was so far away I knew I couldn't just leap
there from a standing start. I would somehow need to redirect my
momentum toward the next position rather than interrupt the flow of
the dance. I stood there on one foot analyzing the pattern while Erik
returned to the beginning of his own and danced it again. His eyes
met mine as he executed the step I was considering, a small grin at my
expense lurking behind the relaxed smile of pleasure from the beauty
of the dance. Of course! Quit analyzing and just dance. All I
needed to know was where I was heading, and to let my body dance the
motion, not my brain.
I started over, since learning the pattern always required a
start from the beginning, and flowed through my newest step toward the
reversed one I had been analyzing, then fell on my shapely ass,
rolling with an ungraceful thump as my legs got completely tangled.
This time, however, I ended up laughing rather than crying and moved
back to begin again. That day I gained that step, but not the next.
Still, two steps in one day was a lot better than I had been doing,
and I made reasonably steady progress after that.
Kelly and I were returning from our training session one
evening a couple of months after we started training when we saw a
strange car in the driveway to Billie Jo's house. Erik had arranged
for maintenance on it while he was training Vixen, and we had assumed
that Rocky had picked up the task when he became her owner. However,
the handyman / cleaning crew usually came during the day, and this was
late in the evening.
"Do you recognize that car?" I asked Kelly.
"No, and did you notice there are lights on inside?" she
replied.
"Yes. Is that a good sign or a bad one? Burglars would
probably leave the lights off," I mused.
As we pulled into our drive, our concerns were put to rest as
Rocky came out of Billie Jo's house, trailed by Vixen. It was clearly
Vixen, not Billie Jo, though she was dressed in a snug miniskirt and
tight blouse not too different from what we wore, plus the long wig
that matched my own. She wasn't bound, however, and wore high-heeled
sandals that gave her the height to be compatible with Rocky.
"Hello," Rocky called with a cheerful wave. Vixen stood
behind him, smiling with inner joy but focused totally on her master.
"Hi," I replied, and Kelly waved.
"Can we come talk with you?" he asked.
"Sure, come on in," I replied, and led the way to our house.
Kelly and I had gotten cleaned up after our workout at Erik's
and looked cool and fresh, so we just headed for the sitting room and
offered to fix drinks. Rocky told us what he wanted and also what to
bring Vixen, who hadn't spoken, yet. She seemed totally subservient
to him, not from fear or forced control, but with the joy of having
all her needs seen to without effort on her part. She moved like a
heavenly body in orbit around her master, the sun source of her world.
"Hello, Billie Jo," I said, experimenting a little.
"Hello, Brandy," she replied without hesitation. "I actually
prefer to be called Vixen, now, if you don't mind."
"Not at all," I smiled. It was clear she was consumed by
Rocky from her own joyful choice, not coercion, and reveled in her new
life. Good for her.
"So," Kelly said, "have you had dinner? Let us take you out
on the town, tonight."
"No, thanks," Rocky replied with his own smile. I was proud
of Kelly for not asking questions about why they were visiting us
after so long. True friends should always be welcome.
"We came to ask you a favor," he continued. "Vix and I are
getting married, and we want to you be bridesmaids."
"Unless, Brandy, you would prefer to be best man," he grinned.
I let the long-dormant smile of cool amusement appear as I
struggled to control my surprise. Not at his announcement of their
marriage, that had been obvious from about three microseconds after
they first saw each other, but at his casual reminder that I was
really a man. Was that some subtle dig, to highlight that I wasn't a
real woman as his Vixen was? At first I was hurt, but within a
heartbeat or two I realized that he was so focused on Vixen and his
love for her that there just wasn't room for anyone else in his life.
He was building distance between us, or perhaps just letting me know
about the distance that had already formed. Only a few weeks before I
would have stayed hurt by his comment, but now I raised my eyes to
Kelly, whose eyes were moving toward mine with the simultaneous
reactions of the near-telepathy we shared, and there was a mirror of
my cool amusement in her own eyes. We had each other, she told me
silently, and didn't need anyone else. Let them have each other as
well. I nodded slightly in agreement and my smile warmed up when I
turned back to Rocky.
"We'd be proud to do whatever you'd like," I challenged him to
choose his image of me.
"Then Brandy, we'd like you to be maid of honor, and Kelly,
we'd like you for the other bridesmaid. Odysseus has already agreed
to be best man and the captain of the ship we met on will be the other
groomsman."
"When, where, and what do we wear?" Kelly asked with a grin
that had warmed up as well.
"Vix," Rocky said, giving her permission to speak.
"We want to be married at sea, on another of Rocky's ships.
We're planning for a spring cruise down the west coast of Mexico, so
bring a bikini. I thought we might discuss the bridesmaid dresses a
little. Do you have any ideas."
"It's your wedding," I said. "We'll wear whatever complements
you the best."
Glancing at her master for confirmation of his continuing
desire for her to speak, Vixen broke from her cool control to giggle,
"Well, what I had in mind was a sort of Gone With The Wind approach,
with tight corsets, enormous skirts, and flamboyant bosoms."
"Sounds terrific!" exclaimed Kelly. "I can't wait."
I smiled as well, but my eyes were on Rocky. His pride in his
beautiful fiancee was clear in his eyes, and it was clear that he was
as devoted to her as she was to him. Lord Odysseus had done well for
them both, and I realized that he had done me a service as well.
Wild, energetic sex with everything that moved was fun, and I expected
Kelly and I might have another few adventures. But nothing was a
wonderful as the time she and I shared alone. Losing Rocky was going
to turn out to be one of the best things in a long series that had
happened to me.
Vixen must have told Rocky about Kelly's wonderful sense of
style, because he sat patiently as they discussed some of the details
for the wedding. I caught his eyes for just a moment and motioned for
him to join me. His first impulse was to check on Vixen, always aware
at a level too deep for conscious thought of his responsibility toward
her, but she was chatting happily with Kelly so he nodded and stood
up. We went out onto the patio in our back yard and I turned to face
him.
"Why did you offer for me to be the best man?" I asked.
"Because you are a man," he said, "and we wanted you to have
your choice."
"Did you think I would choose to be reminded that I was really
a man under my clothes?"
At this he lost the unquestioning attitude of control that he
had displayed when he was with Vixen. He showed embarrassment and
weakness that revealed just how demanding it was to be constantly
dominant.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just thinking about how similar
you look to Vixen, and somehow the hidden difference seemed very
important to me. I guess I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Don't worry about it, the difference is important to me,
too," I laughed, defusing the tension. "You showed me, and Vixen,
that what you and I had between us has burned away in the fire of love
you and Vixen have for each other. I wouldn't have it any other way.
But I hope you don't intend to let my secret out with others. Only
you, Vixen, Kelly, and Erik know about me."
"I'd never tell anyone else," he promised. "You're still a
special friend to both of us, and I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."
I smiled to show agreement, but I knew what he really meant is
that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me unless it benefited Vixen. In
his world, she was first and there really was no second place. Oh,
well, that's the way it should be. In fact, I had come to realize that
I felt the same way about Kelly. Nonetheless, I didn't imagine we'd
be seeing much of them after the wedding. There were at least some
memories of me that would interfere with their images of each other.
I kissed him lightly on the cheek and turned back to the house,
letting the orbit of my hips remind him that he had been attracted to
me, at least once upon a time. Yet I could feel the wall between us
now, and realized what he must have felt when he saw Kelly and I
together. I hadn't ever noticed it before because my relationship
with him had been so different from my love for Kelly that my mind
couldn't even conceive of him in competition with her. Perhaps I
should have been flattered that his mind could conceive of me in
competition with Vixen. We weren't the same, though, and in matters
more fundamental than plumbing. My own personality was dominant, too,
and I was beginning to realize that Rocky and I were never really
compatible. In fact, though I hadn't understood it when I asked him
to come talk with me, this little scene had primarily been to
re-establish my own control over our relationship, a control I had
unconsciously exercised back before we had created Lord Atlas.
Back in the living room, Kelly and Vixen were wrapping up
their plans. It seemed they had the basic wedding arrangements
already settled. Kelly would get our bridesmaid dresses, not
surprisingly the color selected was the pale ice-blue that
complemented her eyes so well. I grinned at her when she announced
their choice, letting her know I didn't mind at all, dark colors
wouldn't look good on the women in the wedding party.
"So, what else will be happening on this cruise?" I asked.
"Well, we thought we might have a costume party," Rocky
grinned.
"Let me guess what the theme of the party might be," I
offered.
His wide grin and Vixen's strangled giggle confirmed my
insight without words.
"Good. You've never met the Lady Raven, Rocky. I think
you'll be impressed."
The immediate response visible in Vixen's nipples showed she
hadn't forgotten the Lady Raven, either. Rocky was so attuned to her
that he picked up on her excitement immediately, and I could see a
pensive expression linger in his eyes for a moment, but his confidence
in his relationship with Vixen was strong enough not to make him
really worry, while I was feeling better and better about our new
relationship, recognizing it was based on a truer foundation than we
had before.
The definite schedule of the wedding cruise provided an
additional incentive for us to learn the patterns of the martial dance
that Erik had introduced to us. I had overtaken Kelly and was the
first to reach the final step, on the forward path. She passed me for
a while as we learned to dance the pattern in reverse, but we finished
at nearly the same time. It was no longer necessary to demonstrate
the benefits of the dance to us, we were moving with such fluid grace
that the martial aspects seemed unimportant. Hopefully we would never
find occasion to use them anyway. Just succeeding at the dance and
obtaining the intensely sensual motion that resulted made the long
hours of practice worth while. When I finally stopped at the first
step of the pattern, after working all the way forward and back, Kelly
greeted me with a warm hug and a kiss. To my surprise, Lord Odysseus
did also. We hadn't had a sexual relation while he had been teaching
us, but his embrace indicated a graduation ceremony might be in order.
It turned out I was right about the graduation ceremony, but
wrong about when. We just moved into another level of training as
Lord Odysseus brought out shoes with clunky wide heels a few inches
high, much less attractive than our normal style, and much heavier.
"You still need to learn to dance in high heels," he reminded
us. "These wider heels will protect the mats. Good luck."
I looked at Kelly to meet her simultaneous gaze and we groaned
in unison, then giggled with pleasure at yet another proof of the
closeness we had achieved.
"Back to square one," she sighed.
"Actually, it's step one. Even my foot isn't a square," I
teased.
"These ugly heels make us both look like we have square feet,"
she complained with a grin to show she understood the necessity.
"Then let's work through this quickly, so we don't have to
wear them long."
Easier said than done, but we made our progress. It wasn't as
bad the second time through since we already understood the most
important issue, to let ourselves dance rather than force the motions.
We also always knew where the next step was so we often could progress
through more than one at a time. When we could dance the pattern
wearing the medium-tall shoes, Erik moved us to a single pattern he
had painted inside his house, in a large salon that looked like a
ballroom.
"There are no pads on this one. Put on your regular sandals
and give it a try. I expect you'll have few bruises to take home
tonight, but you can get through it."
Walking in our towering shoes was more normal to us than the
shorter ones had been, and the flowing grace the pattern had already
given us lifted us to a more beautiful motion than any ordinary women
possessed. Nonetheless, the combination of sky-high heels and
convoluted pattern was the greatest challenge yet, and it took a few
bruises before we mastered it.
While we were working on this last phase in our training, we
were getting fitted for our bridesmaid dresses. They really were like
something from the antebellum south, incredibly elegant, incredibly
flattering. I could hardly wait for the chance to show off our new,
beautiful gowns and felt like spring would never arrive.
There was one problem, though, and I brought it up with Erik
after one of our training sessions, using my beautiful contralto voice
with the strength of Raven, "Lord Odysseus, granting us the privilege
of your training in the dance has interfered with your normal
lifestyle. Your slave girl Vixen has moved on, and you haven't
obtained another while we have been occupying your time."
"You're right, Lady Raven," he replied, picking up on my
characterization. "I might have to ask to borrow Angel for an evening
to go to a bondage party. Perhaps I'll take Vivid as well."
"I'm sure they'd both enjoy it immensely, but I have another
suggestion. I know a woman who would love to be trained, though she
might not realize it yet herself. Would you be interested?"
"Perhaps," he answered. "Normally I don't commit to slaves
without examining them first, but I would place great faith in your
recommendation."
I explained the plan to them, provoking a silvery giggle from
Kelly and a thoughtful, introspective smile from Lord Odysseus.
"Yes, that might work very well," he agreed.
The next bondage party was coming up, and I made the necessary
arrangements. When the time was approaching to go to the party, Angel
presented herself to me in her beautiful, tiny slave dress. Though
Lord Odysseus had joined us for the ride to the party site, I placed
the restraints on Angel myself, using the elegant golden chain bondage
that I had originally designed, complete with hobble. Lord Odysseus
had no slave of his own, yet, but that was part of the plan.
Exactly on time, the limousine I had arranged for showed up,
driven by Cheryl. She stepped from the car to open our door, her eyes
again glowing when she saw Angel in bondage. I grinned at her,
provoking a blush, but Milord Odysseus gazed at her in frank
appraisal, provoking an even greater heat to her face, and a visible
response in her own nipples. That had been the only remaining
question as far as I was concerned. I knew Cheryl responded sensually
to advances from a woman, but I didn't know if she liked men as well.
By obvious demonstration, she did.
"Good evening, Cheryl," I said, "this is Lord Odysseus. He
will be joining us, tonight."
"Yes, ma'am," she replied.
"Now, Cheryl, I already told you not to call me ma'am," I said
firmly. "Tonight you will address me as Milady Raven."
"Yes, Milady Raven," she said, instantly accepting my
dominance.
I placed Angel on the jumpseat, strapped in safely and
reasonably comfortable. In the bag I carried with me were both gags,
the red slave dress, and another set of chains. Our plan was for
Cheryl to become the slave of Lord Odysseus tonight. It looked like
we were on our way.
We used the trip to the party to discuss training methods,
mostly those of Lord Odysseus. He described techniques I had never
tried, from either side, but they provoked my sensitive nipples to
show through the tight bustier of my leather dress. Angel's nipples
perked up, too, and her scent filled the air of the limousine. I knew
Cheryl was listening in, and I would have bet her own hot buttons were
hard and full. When we reached the hotel we laughed to see a sign for
limousine parking that led to a side entrance to the hotel so bondage
party attendees wouldn't have to go through the main lobby. Cheryl
bounced out of the car to get our door for us, standing politely as I
swung my long legs out of the seat. Our parking location was well
shielded from on-lookers, so I decided to bring things to a head
immediately.
"Cheryl, we have a problem that you could solve for us," I
began our seduction.
"Yes, ma'am?" she replied.
I let my amused smile go cold while I stared at her. In a
moment she realized her mistake and said, "I mean, yes Milady Raven?"
This was a critical point, if she withdrew from my control our
plan would fail, but instead we saw her nipple points appear, more
prominent than ever as she accepted my dominance once again. I let my
smile show amusement again and continued as though her mistake were
unremarkable.
"Lord Odysseus has recently sold his slave girl and requires
another in order to gain entrance to the party tonight. You have been
granted the privilege of being his slave for the evening. If you show
special talent, he may consent to keep you as his slave for an
extended period."
Her mouth opened in shock, but her cheeks flamed with heat and
I imagined I could taste a new flavor in the musky scent surrounding
us, a delicate fragrance subtly different than Angel's. I hadn't
asked to if she wanted to be a slave. I just informed her of her
role. She could have refused, but I knew she would not.
"What do I need to do?" she asked me.
"Lord Odysseus will be your master," I replied, then stepped
away from the door.
Lord Odysseus got out of the car with confident power, the
mysterious strength of his eyes capturing Cheryl in the instant it
took for her fall into their gray depths.
"Remove your clothes," he ordered bluntly while I reached past
him to get Angel from her seat. Cheryl began to strip out of her
chauffeur's jacket immediately, then removed her tiny shorts. She
hesitated for a moment while she stood in her underwear, looking
around to see if we were observed. When she looked back to Lord
Odysseus his eyes showed a hard, unyielding cold that made her mistake
very clear.
"I'm sorry, Milord Odysseus," she began.
"Silence," he ordered. "Your penalty for inattention will be
silence for the rest of the evening."
Without glancing around he held out his hand to me, and I
placed one of the ball gags in it. The idea seemed appropriate for
Angel as well, and I turned to her with the other one, to be greeted
by her open mouth. Cheryl saw this response and copied it, accepting
her own gag. Her fingers completed their job of removing her clothes,
stopping only at Lord Odysseus's order when she reached to remove her
shoes. Her body was not as deliciously curved as Angel's, few women
had that privilege, but it was certainly more abundant than either
Vixen or Vivid. She had obviously not required the attention of a
cosmetic surgeon to achieve her sensuous shape. Her nipples remained
extended, whether from the cold of exposure to the evening air or from
erotic arousal was unclear, and unimportant. She was beautiful and
she would be aroused before long anyway.
Though she was gagged, she had no other restraints at that
point, so Lord Odysseus handed her the wisp of red slave dress. It
took her a moment to decide how to put it on, even with Angel's
example, then another moment to realize how little there was when she
had it in place. Cheryl had kept her panties on, not realizing that
Angel wore none, but Lord Odysseus let her keep them. I wondered how
long that would continue.
"Keep your head up and your shoulders back," he ordered. "I
will consider it disobedience if you allow yourself to become exposed.
I will also consider it disobedience if your nipples do not clearly
show through the dress."
This comment made them pop sharply into sight through the
material, her excitement at her condition building moment by moment.
Lord Odysseus twirled his finger and she turned around, shivering in
anticipation. He placed her collar around her neck, provoking an
uncontrollable tremor through her shoulders. Then he put the cuffs
around her wrists and ankles. We had long realized that anticipation
was a very important part of the submission and actual restraints on
motion were only applied after the slave had a chance to absorb the
feel of steel against her skin. This had worked wonderfully well with
Angel and Huntress, then been confirmed with Vivid. Lord Odysseus was
himself familiar with this technique, of course, and used it whenever
he first bound a slave.
In our plan, we had decided that Lord Odysseus would not touch
Cheryl in any intimate way at least until she requested it, and only
after the party in any event. Therefore, before he bound her with the
golden chain, he ordered her to remove her panties herself. She
hesitated for in instant, causing a chill to form in her master's
eyes, then quickly complied. The golden chain was draped from her
neck to her ankles, her wrists were bound to it and her ankles to the
hobble, and we had two beautiful slaves. I hadn't brought the
vibrator eggs, tonight, expecting that might be a little too much for
Cheryl's first experience, so we hooked leashes to their collars and
approached the party. I still had their nipple clamps in my bag,
though neither slave girl knew that.
My reputation as Raven preceded us, and a way was cleared to
the registration table. Angel and I were admitted freely, of course,
but Lord Odysseus paid the fee for himself and his new slave girl.
When they asked for her name, for the contest, Lord Odysseus replied,
"She has no name, yet, and we will not be competing."
He obviously intended to name his new slave girl after her
personality was more apparent, or her talents. However, it was a
shock to her to realize that her owner controlled all aspects of her
life, including her name. The new slave's attention became even more
focused on her master as she tried to become sufficiently pleasing to
earn a name. Unfortunately, the first noticeable attention she
received was another reprimand. Or perhaps fortunately for her,
considering the nature of the punishment.
"Slave Girl, you are disobeying me again," Lord Odysseus
declared sternly.
Her eyes widened in dismay. She wasn't sure what she had
done, and she had certainly been concentrating on her master, trying
to comply with his every desire. That was the problem, in fact, she
had been so busy analyzing what he might want, that she had forgotten
to allow herself to enjoy the sensuality of the situation and remain
visibly excited. Her nipple points had disappeared within the soft
folds of her dress. Lord Odysseus reached out to pinch them through
the material as though he were turning on a machine, not caressing a
woman's breasts, but they popped up sharply again, both at his touch,
and at the pretty slave's excitement at this reminder of her position.
He then looked around for the appropriate table of implements, but I
interjected myself into his attention.
"Lord Odysseus, perhaps you might find these useful," I said
as I offered him one of the sets of nipple clamps.
"Why, thank you Lady Raven, these are perfect."
His new slave girl gasped around her gag at the thought of the
sensations the clamps would inflict on her. She had seen Angel and
Vivid wearing these clamps and knew they weren't desperately painful,
but she thought they must be incredibly uncomfortable. She was wrong.
My own nipple points pulsed strongly with the memory from personal
experience that if applied correctly, they were fascinating and
intensely compelling, but not painful. Still, she was new to this and
obviously frightened. I decided to help reassure her by
demonstration.
"Angel, I think you should share this stimulation with your
slave sister," I said, drawing forth the other linked clamps from my
purse.
Her own nipples were flamboyantly erect, straining at the
front of her thin dress and I quickly attached both clamps to their
proper use. She gasped as the clamps were tightened, swaying slightly
as the sensations flooded through her, though it was the remembered
intensity of their removal more than the current stimulation that
really captured her emotions. I hadn't ever fastened them to her
before, so I wasn't entirely sure I got the tightness correct, but her
eyes betrayed no real pain, just intense excitement, so I figured I
must have gotten it about right. Lord Odysseus repeated the procedure
on his own slave. Her gasp around her gag was even more intense than
Angel's had been, though it wasn't clear what the cause was for her
response. She might have just been unused to such intense
stimulation, or she might have been unusually responsive. If the
latter were the case, Lord Odysseus might have found his next
long-term slave girl.
Our purpose for coming to this party was primarily to obtain
Cheryl as a slave girl for Lord Odysseus. As soon as she accepted his
control, we had met that objective. Nonetheless, we spent a little
time at the party, recognizing the benefits to our slaves of the
exciting atmosphere of desire that would be present. Our slave girls
responded wonderfully. Their eyes shown with the attention they
received, their nipples, now constrained to be erect by the clamps,
were so intensely stimulated they appeared to throb visibly with each
beat of their racing hearts. A continuous scent of female arousal
wafted around them as we strolled at the slow pace compatible with
their ankle hobbles. I enjoyed the party as well, proud of the beauty
of my slave girl, and of myself. Succeeding at the pattern dance had
given me a lightness on my feet, even while wearing my thigh-high
spiked boots, that made me feel more intensely alive, more sensual
than I had ever done before. In its own way, this training from Lord
Odysseus had helped me even more than his sexual training, incredible
though that had been.
The training in the dance had a more practical benefit as
well, though. My reputation as Lady Raven had been set, in part, by
my physical dominance of the erstwhile "Master Ajax" at the first
party where we appeared. He had demanded to buy Angel, finally laying
hands on me to try and get my agreement. I had surprised him, and
myself, by quickly knocking him to the floor and rendering him
helpless. That sort of surprise wouldn't work again. Nonetheless I
had become a target for the "young gunslinger" types who wanted to try
me out physically, especially the cowardly ones who thought a woman
would be easier to overpower. The intense training in motion and body
control that Lord Odysseus had provided to us allowed me to recognize
preparations for attack in one of the would-be masters at the party.
He had a slave girl, of sorts, who was not very attractive but had
consented to wear a light string around her waist as a pseudo-leash.
As he approached me his pretend slave followed along, no subservience
in her attitude. I expected they both wanted a softly feminine slave
to dominate in compensation for their own lack of true character
strength.
"How much for the one in white?" the man asked. His badge
proclaimed him to be "Master Colossus" and he was certainly big, but
his bulk was largely fat, with little muscle definition.
"She's not for sale, especially not to one such as you," I
sneered. This time my expression was no act, I really found this slug
repulsive.
"Listen, Miss High-and-Mighty Bitch, we've got good money, and
you owe us at least a fair price so we can see if we want her."
"I owe you nothing," I said in dismissal, and turned to walk
toward another set of tables, not exactly giving way to him, yet not
forcing him to move from my way, either.
His pseudo-slave was vocally urging him to "teach me a lesson"
while we moved away, and then I heard the sound of his accelerating
footsteps behind me. I judged there was time, so I casually handed
Angel's leash to Lord Odysseus and twirled in a sequence from the
middle of the pattern, grateful now that we had been forced to learn
the dance even while wearing towering spiked heels. My shapely form
swayed gracefully out of his way, my flowing arm motions intercepted
his neck as he passed and helped him to overbalance just far enough
his running feet couldn't quite keep up with his heavy bulk.
Nonetheless, he tried, accelerating even faster for a few more steps
as he frantically worked to get his feet caught up with his center of
gravity. He failed. With a sliding crash he bellied in, scraping his
nose on the floor, pinching his round stomach over his too-tight belt.
I expected he might have cried out from the pain that was the only
return he had earned from his attack, but he probably didn't have the
breath.
Lord Odysseus casually handed Angel's leash back to me,
boredom carefully written on his face to highlight the absolute
superiority we enjoyed over the other owners at the party. My own
face displayed the look of cool amusement that announced my
willingness to keep helping others make a fool of themselves as long
as they came at me, a look I trained on Colossus's pseudo-slave. One
elegant arched eyebrow was sufficient to ask her if she intended to
repeat his stupidity, but she just glared at me and moved toward her
compatriot, giving us a wide berth.
"Well done, Lady Raven," Lord Odysseus congratulated me. "I
see by your own excitement that you enjoyed that. Don't get to enjoy
it too much, though, or you'll lose the perspective that makes you a
good master."
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I enjoy the grace of the
dance, but I only enjoy humiliating slugs like that fat pig. Only a
mistress who can control herself is truly qualified to control
others." Lord Odysseus's pretty slave girl heard my comment, and I
saw an introspective expression in her eyes for a moment.
"Lord Odysseus, could I speak with your slave for a moment?" I
asked.
He nodded, offering me her leash.
"No, thank you. I'll talk as we walk along," I said, slowing
my pace so that I now walked beside the girl he owned.
"Pretty slave, you may not realize it, yet, but you may have
the opportunity to be trained by the most accomplished master I can
imagine. He has trained me in the proper use of my body and mind,
both to achieve indescribable sexual fulfillment, and to optimize
every motion I make. Yet as you can see, he has not broken my spirit.
Instead he has made me happier than ever. I needed only a little of
his attention, since I have had the benefit of Angel's love for
several years to help in my own development, but I would gladly
surrender myself to him for any and all things he asked of me. Pray
that he offers you the chance to become his slave on a continuing
basis, as I did."
Angel had kept up with the new girl as I talked so she could
hear every word. When I talked about my own slave, she had rubbed her
body up against me, nuzzling to show her happiness in the only way
possible while bound and gagged. When I had mentioned my willingness
to be Lord Odysseus's slave, though I was clearly a capable and
dominant mistress already, Angel had nodded as well. I smiled at her,
not begrudging her desire for another master, for the right master.
It was this acceptance, more than anything else, that influenced the
new girl to commit herself to Lord Odysseus. Our absolute trust, not
only that we would not be harmed, but that we would be wonderfully
pleased with service to Lord Odysseus, convinced her to give it a try.
I could see the resolution in her eyes, a resolution to win the
privilege of absolute subservience to the compelling man who owned
her.
The few others who had been demonstrating by the tension in
their bodies that they were considering a challenge to us quickly
shrunk in on themselves and moved away. The murmur of my latest
exploit spread through the crowd faster than we could have walked even
if not limited to the speed of our hobbled slaves, curiosity mixed
with respect as they wondered what had happened. Most of the direct
witnesses probably didn't have the perceptions to even realize what I
had done, seeing only the liquid glide of the dance and not the subtle
assist that had caused the man to fall. Nonetheless, they gave us
respectful distance, and certainly no further challenges. We left the
party room at an easy pace, strolling toward where the limousine was
parked.
When we reached it, Lord Odysseus dropped his slave girl's
leash and motioned her to stand still. He reached up and removed her
gag, allowing her a few seconds to loosen the stiffness in her jaw,
then asked, "All right, girl, now is your choice. It will be your
last free choice until I decide otherwise, which may be some time.
Will you accept me as your lord and master?"
She dropped her eyes, staring at the clamps exciting her
nipples, and replied in a small, quiet voice, "yes."
He made no comment, but displeasure showed in his eyes. After
a moment, she noticed his frown and a look of dismay filled her own
eyes as she tried to decide what she had done wrong. He offered no
sign of specific transgressions, obviously intending that she should
reason it out for herself. In a moment, she straightened her
shoulders and lifted her head, realizing that Lord Odysseus neither
desired nor accepted weak, broken spirits.
"Yes! Milord Odysseus, I beg you to grant me the privilege of
being owned by you," she proudly announced.
"Better," he curtly accepted her request. "Lady Raven, will
you drive us home? I will start training this girl immediately."
"Certainly," I replied. "Can Angel be of any help in her
training?"
"Why, yes, she could be. Thank you."
I offered him Angel's leash and moved to the door of the
limousine. Cheryl's clothes were inside already, but I had put the
keys in my own purse. In a moment, I had the doors unlocked and was
adjusting the driver's seat to my larger size. Lord Odysseus took
care of the slave girls, of course, positioning them in accordance
with his plans for the ride home. I watched his training session in
the rear view mirror, listening to the words that accompanied the
physical attention he gave them. Angel was allowed the privilege of
sucking his cock, demonstrating an uninhibited commitment to his
pleasure. In return, he had the new slave lick and suck at Angel's
jewel, lifting her near to the point of no return. While this moment
was approaching, he caressed the new girl's pleasure nubbin, bringing
her to a state of intensity that was only the first on a matchless
journey of development, but was already more than she had ever
experienced. When she was ready, Lord Odysseus entered her from
behind, using his exquisite skill to bring them both the very brink of
ecstasy just as Angel reached her own moment of truth. Lord Odysseus
obviously knew the benefit of the nipple clamps as he yanked them from
Angel and the new girl in quick succession, triggering screams of
uncontrollable emotion at the overwhelming sensation. His own
pleasure, incidental except as a sign of acceptance at the new girl's
skill, exploded within her. Her eyes were below the level of the
seat, but I knew from my own experience that they would now show a
commitment to him in a way that consumed her utterly, not limited to
the intellectual decision to accept his training she had already
expressed.
When I reached our house, from which Lord Odysseus would take
the limousine and his new girl to his own home, both of the pretty
slaves were sleeping on the floor of the car. None of their bonds had
been removed, except for their gags and the nipple clamps, but their
faces showed only deep relaxation, completely at peace, completely
comfortable, completely fulfilled. It seemed a shame to wake Angel,
so I gathered her into my arms, grateful for the strength I possessed
as a man and for the balance and body control of training in the dance
of the pattern.
I smiled to myself at the regrets I had once had because of
what I was not, now comfortable with what I was, more unique than I
had even once desired. Lord Odysseus smiled at me as well, his
attunement to me so complete it approached the telepathy that Kelly
and I shared and nodded his understanding of the cause for my own
satisfaction. In a moment, the limousine was gone and I carried Kelly
into the house.
