It was a lovely wedding. I sat on the groom's side about halfway back, watching it unfold. The groom was the son of a close friend of mine, John. I came to wish him well. He was having a tough time of it since his wife had died. But now you sure couldn't tell. The procession started and I turned, craning my neck like everyone else. As I did I caught a glimpse of one of the women on the bride's side. She was sitting in the front row next to the aisle. For some reason our eyes locked briefly.
The wedding went off without a hitch, the bride, after the unveiling, tuned out to be quite the knockout. I joined the line to shake hands and discovered that the woman Id seen earlier was the mother of the bride. John made a point of introducing us. Seems her name was Elizabeth. They also made a point of cornering me into going to the reception, too. I hate being cornered. It was set for an hour later, at some fancy ballroom.
I excused myself and went home to change, grumbling the whole way. John knows that I hate social events. It is not that I am antisocial; I just don't care to be around mundanes. Which make up about eighty-five percent of the population. 'Hmm, well maybe I am antisocial,' I chuckled to myself. I changed into some heavy black dress pants and a silver gray suede shirt. It was a nice warm June day and I was going to enjoy the trip if nothing else.
I putted up to the front of the ballroom and immediately knew that this was going to be a royal pain. Limos, doormen, carpeted walk. I said to hell with it and cruised up to the door. One of the doormen, the older one, looked as if he had swallowed something bad. The younger one only had eyes for my chopper. I shut it down and tossed the younger one the keys and started toward the door. The older of the two moved to block me. I smiled as I built a charge in my left hand -- I was going to knock this stuffed shirt into next week. Before I could get close enough, John came out the door at a trot.
"Tracker, 'bout time you got here, the reception has already started!"
The doorman prudently backed away. John eyed him as he brushed past. I just ignored him. We made our way into the main room and I looked around. No one was here that I knew, really. Loud music and a bunch of mundanes. The stuck-up ones. The ones that irritate me the most. I had visions of learning the insider secrets of stock trading in China or some such. I could hardly wait.
I wandered around behind John, listening, then promptly forgetting introductions. As soon as I was able, I snagged a drink from the bar and found a nice out of the way table. I figured about fifteen minutes and I could gracefully bow out. Sipping my drink, I watched the normal jockeying for position. I started watching two stuffed shirts do a running account, while the young lady, who they were trying to impress, was calculating which was worth the most. That would probably be the one to get lucky. I almost felt sorry for the shirts. It would be a very expensive piece of ass.
'God I hate these things!'
While getting up to talk to these people was only slightly less attractive than rubbing myself down with raw meat and petting a hungry lion, I was getting bored. I still had a few minutes to go. Glancing up I spotted Elizabeth breaking away from the group that she was in and heading my way.
'Oh, joy.'
Don't get me wrong, she wasn't a bad looking woman, she just came off as one of the predators. I had no idea why she and John should be so interested in me being here. I really wasn't that curious to find out either.
"George? Or should I call you Tracker?"
"Just call me Tracker, everyone else does."
"Tracker it is then. You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."
"I guess I don't do parties that well." At least not ones like this.
"That's not what John said."
"Oh? And what did he say?" I think I am going to have a talk with Mr. John.
"He was telling me all about you and how you used to party."
"My dear, I was a lot younger then."
"You aren't that old!"
"I am old enough." Lady, just drop it already.
"So why don't you tell me about yourself."
"Not much to tell really."
"Oh, nonsense, I understand you have had a very interesting life!"
"I survived it, if that is what you mean." What the hell was she up to? I was getting dizzy from all the beating around the bush.
"That's not fair; I expected at least a story."
"About?"
"Oh, maybe about your witches?"
I sat there looking at her for a few minutes. John had no clue how close he was to leaving the world at this point. I took a deep breath.
"So I take it you want to hear all about me."
She leaned forward. "All about you."
I smiled coldly, "Dominant heterosexual male."
"Aren't you leaving something out?" I jumped as I didn't catch Johns approach.
"Not that I am aware of," I replied.
"Well what about sorc..."
"JOHN!" What the hell was he thinking? About a dozen heads turned in our direction. Then, not seeing any blood, turned back.
"Wait, this is getting out of hand." Elizabeth shook her head. "We were not trying to provoke you."
"Then what the hell were you trying to do?"
"Get to know you."
I stared at her for a few moments. I was more than a little pissed. "Where's the profit in that?"
She looked shocked for a moment. "You don't care for small talk, I take it."
"I don't care for getting jerked around."
"Wait a minute Tracker, that isn't what this is about." John interceded.
"Then what is this about?"
"I wanted to get to know you. I asked John to introduce us." Elizabeth stated.
"I see." Turning to John, "Just what have you told her?"
"I told her just about everything."
"Why?"
"We were talking one night about some of the wild friends that we knew from the past. Your name came up. Elizabeth asked if you were the same one that wrote for the website. I didn't see any harm in telling her. One thing led to another and she asked me to invite you to the reception."
"And what is the fascination?" I asked Elizabeth.
"I have read your stories."
"Those are just fiction."
"John seems to think one of them isn't."
I shot John a dirty look.
"I want to know what it is like," Elizabeth continued.
"Could you narrow it down some? What 'what' is like?"
"Slavery."
"You should have a pretty good idea, being a mundane."
"What?"
"You are a slave to whatever bauble that happens to be the current fad."
"I... I don't understand."
"I take it by slavery you were speaking of my girls."
"Yes."
"How do you suppose they got that way?"
"I don't know."
"They gave themselves to me."
"I don't understand."
"What do you see when you look around you?"
She looked into the crowd in a daze. "I... still don't understand."
"These people would sell their own mother for a stock option."
"I take it you don't care too much..."
"You miss the point because you are immersed in this lifestyle. What do you think any one of them would give away for free? Without expecting anything in return?"
She just stared at me.
"If a woman seeks a man's collar, she is after his heart," I smiled. "If she seeks a ring, she is after his soul. To truly understand you would have to give yourself completely."
She stared at me a minute, then off into space. Finally she looked back. "Ok."
My turn to think. I considered her for a while and all of the ramifications of what she was doing. I knew for a fact that she didn't have a clue as to what the reality was of what she was asking.
"No."
"I beg your pardon?" She looked shocked.
"No."
"But..."
"I know that the stories that you read depict doms as sex maniacs and that there is a thrill a minute. But it doesn't work that way. It takes a lot of work between both the master and the slave to make it work. The slave has to have a certain mindset: one of complete and utter obedience. The master has to govern the scene and keep his sub safe as he does his tricks. Those are the basics. What my girls and I had was well beyond that. I had their total trust and devotion. It is not something that is just jumped into. Unless of course you want to reduce it to a high school 'let's tie you up and have sex' type of relationship. That is not what happened and if that is what you want, anyone here would probably be glad to do it for you."
"I could try..."
"No, there would be no trying. If I were to accept, there would be no half measures. To put it terms you might comprehend, I will make you an offer... I offer to remove your freedom, your choice and your sense of worth. I will in turn have total control of your body to do with as I please. I will lay down rules that you will obey at the risk of being punished. If you are punished, it will be in whatever way and for how ever long that I see fit. There will be no time off, no holidays, no schedule of duty. You would lose the privilege of calling me by my name. I would be addressed as sir. If you managed to earn your collar, then you would call me master or sir. I would control when you went anywhere and how you were dressed when you went. Are you starting to get the picture?"
The color drained from her face.
"I never dreamed..." She stammered.
"This is why I said no. I don't have the patience or the time to train you and you have no idea of the commitment." I chuckled. "Besides, what would your daughter think?"
"The stories that you wrote were so sensual..."
"Yes, because you never write about the bad parts. I did those stories for entertainment and as a favor for a friend. I really had no idea who read them. Nor did I care."
"Well you do have quite a following." She smiled as she said it.
"Oh?"
"If we would have introduced you as Tracker instead of George, you would probably have had a rough time getting out of here tonight."
I stared at her.
"I was caught up in your stories, so I shared them with several of the ladies and even a few of the men who are present tonight," she continued.
Bloody freaking wonderful! The last thing I wanted was a fan club.
"I will make you a deal, I will 'forget' who you are tonight if you take me as your slave for a week."
"You realize that after a trick like that, it will not be an easy week."
"I trust you."
"You are a fool."
"Yes, sir."
A week went by, and I got a call from John. I invited him over.
"Hey Tracker, how goes it?"
"Well, I can't complain."
"How did it go with Elizabeth?"
"Well I punished her when we got home then made her fix my dinner."
"Sounds pretty ordinary."
"Well it was about Wednesday before I gave her something to wear."
"Oh, my."
"It actually went pretty smoothly after that, she actually earned the right to give me a blowjob later that day."
John's eyes bugged out.
"She did let some get away from her though, so I spanked her till she couldn't sit down."
I could see the wheels turning in John's head. Trying to imagine Elizabeth, the socialite, naked, giving a blowjob.
"Eh, she is alright now, er, right?"
"Oh, yes."
"Good. I think I will drop in on her on the way home."
"Drop in?"
"Yes, her house is on my way home."
"Oh, she isn't there."
"Where is she?"
"Beth!" I called out.
"Yes, sir, be right there!"
"She's..."
His dialog ground to a stop as Elizabeth came to the den. The color then drained from his face. Elizabeth came and knelt by my chair, her head down and her posture was perfect. She had on a corset, g-string, garter belt, stockings and four inch heals. All in black and silver.
"Yes, sir?"
"John was just asking about you."
"May I speak, sir?"
"Yes Beth."
"Thank you sir, hello John."
"Oh my God!" John looked as if he was ready to have a heart attack. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, sir. I am quite alright."
"But, but... You were supposed to go home after a week."
"Yes, sir, I was. But I begged until I was allowed to stay."
"But you only... you said... my god!"
"Sir, I was wrong to think that I could try this and walk away from it. I have a new goal now and a new life."
"A new goal?"
"Yes, sir. I am after sir's heart. I want his collar."
Be careful what you ask for,
You just might get it.