The Diaries of Ayesha

When we got to Mistress Minx's room I expected to be escorted in and then directed to my little corner of the floor to sleep, so it was a bit surprising to be pushed onto the bed as soon as the door closed behind us.

Before I could say anything she was sitting on my back pressing me into the black silk of the coverlet and whispering in my ear not to move or make a sound.

I mumbled my muffled assent to her command and lay there, my eyes closed, as she got off me all the while trying to discern her intentions towards me that night.

I felt her pull my shoes and socks off and then felt cold steel up my legs and the sound of shredding fabric as she cut my pants off me and then the prick of steel on my back as my shirt followed, leaving me clad only in my underwear and the tattered remains of my clothing.

"Do you remember that first night in my bed at the Rancho?" she asked softly. "You were afraid of me then, afraid of the pain and my power over you. You might even have hated me then for making you a slave, a creature for my pleasure only. Things have changed haven't they? But some things haven't changed at all. I own you Michael. As my husband or my slave you are possessed by me."

"And another thing that has not changed Mistress is my love for you," I murmured. "I've seen many women and served as trained, I've even been granted the privilege of possessing a slave of my own, but my love has not changed for you."

"Even Dominique has not changed you? Your quest for the muse has not weakened your resolve or your love?" she asked softly.

"Has your love for others diminished your love for me Mistress?" I asked.

"No my love, it has not. If anything it has reminded me what a unique slave you are," she replied with a gentle swat on my ass.

I sighed in comfort knowing that we were of the same mind at that moment.

"Thank you Mistress," I said softly.

"Now be silent until I give you permission to speak," she said with a harder swat." The last thing I want is to have our play disturbed."

I lay silently, the quiet of the room broken only by the rustle of her movements and the sound of my breathing, my mind drifting on the memories of other nights in her possession and then felt the startling sensation of my ankles being pulled and the feel of rope against my skin as it tightened.

I resisted the urge to struggle and tried instead to relax as the strain on the rope increased, stretching me towards the foot of the bed and then feeling the tightening of rope around my wrists pulling me back towards the top of the bed leaving me at last in the middle.

"Now mine sklave, we will see if you can still take pleasure from my hands," the Mistress announced softly.

I tensed for a blow and was startled by the feeling of a soft powder on my skin and a gentle touch across my back.

"I can touch you with kindness as well as with pain my pet. Oh I'll make use of you tonight, but when I'm ready. I want you nice and relaxed for what I have in store for you," she muttered.

She continued to touch me and I became more and more sensitive to it, squirming against the ropes in a vain attempt to escape.

"Excellent mine sklave. I want your skin so sensitive that a mere kiss will set your body aflame with desire," she complimented.

I tried not to moan in response as her touches were beginning to tickle more than slightly and I struggled to control my reaction of anger.

"Oh I know this drives you crazy, it's worse than anything else I can do to you. Touch you, stroke you gently, lovingly. And you have to accept it, you have to accept my gentle love for you," she purred.

I struggled against the ropes straining the metal bedposts as I pulled my legs up convulsively with the sound of groaning metal.

And then a soft warm tongue down my spine that made me yelp in surprise and resulted in the Mistress sitting on my head, forcing my face into her satin pillow to muffle me. It didn't stop her however from continuing the use of her tongue and fingers to drive me into a frenzy.

 My torture was mercifully interrupted at this point by a gentle rapping at Milady's chamber door.

She rolled off me allowing me to get a lungfull of air before remarking in a curious tone, "Now who could be rapping, gently tapping at my chamber door?"

"'Tis just the wind and nothing more," I panted," Only that and nothing more."

And yet the tapping came again, a little louder and was accompanied by a voice this time.

"Minkin darling, I need to speak with you for a moment," her mother's voice said softly.

"Oh shit," the Mistress swore softly." This wouldn't be a good time Mother." she called a bit louder.

"It's important dear. If you like I'll cover my eyes," she replied with dry humor in her voice.

Even through my blurred vision I could see a mixture of panic and annoyance cross the Mistress's face before she rolled onto the floor landing lightly on her feet and walked to the door.

"No," I moaned before she opened it.

"Nonsense Michael. If she's chosen to interrupt us now, she can deal with what she sees," Minx replied sharply.

"I'm not worried about her, I'm worried about me!" I hissed as the door opened.

Wendolyn Dawes entered the room without sparing my predicament or me a second glance but turned her attention to her daughter.

"Minkin, I think you should know that your father is still very unhappy with the situation you've placed us in.

"The situation I've placed you in?" Minx repeated. "Mother, I can't leave the country for a year while this situation is resolved. I did what I thought was the best thing to do."

"Dear I understand probably better than you do why you can't, but neither of us can explain the reason to your father without further complicating matters."

"What do you mean by that?" Minx asked warily

I could see the small smile that Wendolyn permitted herself before she replied quietly.

"It would complicate your other work if you left the country now. Just be warned that your father is going to put Michael through the Inquisition tomorrow and has amassed quite a file on him already. Doctor Forbin has become a bit better known that you might expect dear. He really is a very talented writer with you to inspire him."

"Oh dear," Minx said ruefully. " How much have you read Mother?"

"Everything sweetheart. Your father only knows that Michael writes erotica under the pen name of Dr. Charles Forbin though. The Purloined Letter method of hiding the facts is classic and works very well and his writing is serving a purpose."

I didn't quite know what to say at that point so I remained silent, thinking of her words. There was something left unsaid, a second meaning under them.

To my embarrassment her mother walked over to where I was trussed up and critically examined her daughter's handiwork.

"I'd suggest you tie his left wrist a little better dear. He's almost managed to wiggle out of it," she commented reaching for the cord.

"Mother, please. I'd rather do it myself," Minx protested.

I just hid my face in the pillow, blushing so hard that my ears were ringing from the change in blood pressure. I wasn't sure how I'd ever be able to face her again wearing clothing.

"As you wish dear. Good night," she said and I felt her pat me on the backside. "Nice ass Michael."

"And it's mine mother," Minx reproved. "Good night."

I heard her close the door and lock it and then a moment later felt her pull my head up by the hair to stare into my eyes.

"It is a very nice ass and it is mine. Don't forget that," she said and kissed me hard.

I won't say we picked up exactly where we left off before going to sleep, but by the time she was done I was in tears and she was purring like a very satisfied kitten and snuggling into my back, my hands still bound together but no longer attached to the bed frame.

I awoke to the sound of a bird singing outside the window and the soft breathing of my beloved Mistress. From the light filtering in the window, I estimated it was about seven o'clock and rolled out of bed carefully so as not to wake her.

Washing my face and brushing my teeth while bound has become almost routine, but the main problem I was going to have that morning was the inability to put on my robe and with Wallace and Wendolyn in the house, my underwear was not going to be sufficient coverage.

Decisions, decisions. I knew that in the event of an emergency I could get out of the bondage without penalty, but I wasn't sure that embarrassment qualified as I'd been in worse situations.

Like chained to a palm tree on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles at noon.

Then the time for reasonable thought ended as there was a soft knocking at the door and the sound of Wallace's voice.

"Michael are you awake yet?" he called.

I draped the robe over my bound hands and fumblingly turned the doorknob.

"I am but she's not," I said poking my head around the edge of the door.

"Ah well Miriam has breakfast ready to be served in the garden. Why don't you come down and eat?" he invited.

"I have to get dressed and then I'll be right down," I said and started to close the door as he blocked it with his hand.

"Something wrong this morning Michael?" he asked mildly.

"Uh no, just a little distracted this morning. Didn't get to sleep until late," I offered.

"I see. Don't be too long," he said and let me close the door.

Well, no choice now. Time to wake the Mistress and take my lumps.

I decided on the subtle approach and started gently sucking her toes until she moaned and rolled over with a sigh of pleasure.

"Nice," she murmured." Disobedient, but very nice anyway."

"Yes Mistress," I mumbled around her delicate toes.

"I'll have to punish you later for licking without permission. Something special I think."

I stopped licking and explained the reason for my actions to her amused giggle.

"I think having to try and eat in bondage in front of my father would be very funny. But I understand your reluctance."

She sat up and took my hands in her and quickly freed the bonds and directed me to get dressed and go to breakfast.

"I'll be down in a few minutes my love. Try not to get into an argument with my father. He hates that at breakfast," she warned.

"You'd be the expert on that subject I'm sure."

"You're right. I am."

I sat down at the table in the cool morning breeze across from Wallace as Miriam placed a cup of coffee before me and then withdrew to fetch my bacon and biscuits for breakfast.

Miriam had outdone herself on breakfast that day, with cheeses and fruits, ham and bacon, fresh biscuits and even some of her fabled kippers as well as something I'd never touch Eggs Benedict with Hollandaise sauce.

"Minkin does have a talent for picking housekeepers, I will say that for her," Wallace commented as he watched Miriam prepare a plate for him.

"Your daughter has excellent judgement in other matters as well Wallace. You have every reason to be proud of her and her accomplishments, " I said sipping the hot Kona blend.

He shrugged.

"I expected more from her actually. Her work in college was excellent, despite a tendency to be distracted by other things such as music and art. She's a very good pianist you know."

I smiled thinking of a quiet night in an old church and the sound of Mozart filling the room with a beauty matched only by the player herself.

"Yes actually, she did play for me once," I said casually. "Perhaps she missed her true calling."

Her father glared at me for a moment before clearing his throat and nodding a curt thank you to Miriam as she set a plate before him.

"Be that as it may, she has accomplished quite a bit for a girl of her years, but I'd like to see her do even more. "

"Tell me the truth. You would rather have seen her marry Fort rather than myself," I said flatly.

He didn't hesitate for a moment.

"Yes. Fortinbras was a far better choice both professionally and socially than you are, however I understand why she broke off the relationship with him. I don't expect my daughter to give up her career for marriage."

So that's what she told her family. I'd always wondered about that.

"Where as my social position is somewhat lower as a whole," I remarked.

"Essentially. Not that I don't consider you a fine man in your own way..." he said condescendingly.

"Some of my best friends are Americans, but I wouldn't want my daughter to marry one. Is that about it?" I prodded.

Before the discussion could get any more acrimonious we were joined by Wendolyn who sat down after a moment of conversation with Miriam.

"Good morning dear," she said kissing Wallace on the cheek and patting my hand." Having a nice chat?"

"Yes actually, we were discussing Minkin's talent for the piano," he said.

"Yes I was just agreeing she's quite good," I said picking up the cue from his abrupt change of subject." She's also a very talented photographer. She doesn't get much time to do that any more with the work at the Bank increasing."

"The photos from Alaska were marvelous," Wendolyn gushed." Of course with the pilot you had flying you the aerial pictures couldn't help but be spectacular."

I thought of that cold night on the glacier with Minx and Jazmyne and repressed a smile.

"Well it did take a little extra work to get those shots, but it was worth it," I agreed. " Of course I never got to travel much until I was hired by your daughter. Now I feel like Indiana Jones at times."

"Making it up as you go along?" Minx said from behind me causing me to jump.

I wish you wouldn't do that," I replied rising from my chair to seat her at the table.

"You do the same thing to me Mr. Ninja Feet. Mother, I swear he could walk on rice paper and never wrinkle it," she said motioning to Miriam to serve her.

"Very useful for a bachelor," Wallace said smugly. "Let's you creep softly and silently away. Or for a married man, softly and silently into the house."

"Well I'm not on that short a leash am I dear?" I asked Minx with a straight face.

"No you aren't," she said and then mouthed "Not right now anyway."

There was a ghost of a smile on Wendolyn's face so I was sure she had spotted it.

Breakfast proceeded without further incident and soon Miriam announced that Tia had arrived with the limo for the drive to Felton.

The route Tia chose ultimately led us onto Skyline giving us all a view of the ocean as it snaked it's way along the ridgeline and then descended into Portola Valley before climbing again to join Highway 9 for the final leg into Felton.

There were a few curious looks at us as we got out of the limo, but we were soon ignored as we made our way to the depot for the tickets for the ride up Bear Mountain.

A little bit of background for those of you who are unfamiliar with logging railroads, is that they run on a narrower track than a regular train and generally climb steeper slopes than AMTRAK would ever consider. To do this they use a special type of engine known as a Shay and unlike a regular steam train that uses pistons to drive the wheels, a Shay actually uses gears. This lets the engine go almost straight up a hill pulling a load.

It's also damned slow but you can't have everything. After all, where would you put it?

It took us most of an hour on the train to reach the top of Bear Mountain and the picnic grounds and by the time I hauled the picnic basket to a table I was sure that Miriam had managed to pack an anchor in with the food somehow.

She hadn't though; just a full meal of chicken, potato salad, fruit, muffins and a couple of bottles of cider at the bottom along with an apple pie.

"After a meal like that," Wallace exclaimed as we finished eating, " A good brisk walk is called for."

"Now that's a matter of opinion. Myself, a nice warm spot in the sun for a bit of a nap is more my speed," I replied.

"Nonsense, it will do you good," he objected.

"Yes, you boys run along and we'll be just fine," Wendolyn encouraged.

I looked at Minx for help but found none in her expression, only concern for me.

I rose from the table and indicated he should lead the way.

"Lay on Macduff, " I said and followed him with only one backwards glance at Minx and her mother.

"You're a very curious combination of traits Michael. You are protective of my daughter, have a serious lack of respect for authority, a very odd sense of humor, and seem to have a somewhat philosophical streak in your make up," Wallace commented as we walked through the redwoods towering above us as the afternoon fog flowed through the trees.

"All of the above sir. And as Gilbert and Sullivan put it, I am a slave to duty. So I do the best I can for your daughter and the Bank. As I'm sure you do as well," I suggested.

"I do indeed. I've had my people do a little checking into your background and I'm curious about a few things. For example, there is a gap in your employment records of almost a year before you started working for a small electronics company and then came to work for the Bank," he said looking me in the eye.

"Yes there is," I deferred." I was out of the country on a retreat. Spent some time in Thailand. As a matter of fact I just returned from there a short time ago."

"I understood that you were missing and presumed dead this last time," he countered.

"Well as Mark Twain put it, the rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated. I was missing for a bit. Got myself lost on a trail."

"I see. And you took a leave of absence to visit Australia. You seem to spend a lot of time away from the Bank."

"Authorized time sir. In fact the last leave was an unpaid one. I'm still cleaning up the bills from the last trip."

"And your relationship with Miss Bellamy?" he continued.

I looked at him and laughed despite my annoyance

"My relationship with Susan Bellamy is none of your business. My wife is fully aware of my relationship with Susan, such as it is. As to her covering my absences from the Bank, she is in some ways better qualified than I am. She has a law degree and a very low tolerance for nonsense," I said. "Anything else?"

"Just one more thing. I understand you are seeing a therapist. A Dr. Grace Denoblis. May I ask what for?"

"As I'm sure you know I am a widower. I still have bouts of depression over the loss of my wife and daughter. On your daughter's advice I started seeing her."

He nodded.

"Thank you for being honest with me Michael. I wanted to see if you would tell me the truth," he said sitting on a tree stump

"Of course you already knew the answers before you asked," I said dryly.

He gave me a brief smile.

"Well we were talking about gambling yesterday and I wasn't totally honest with you. I actually do play poker very well Michael. I just prefer to know what cards the other player is holding before I bet."

"That takes all the fun out of it," I replied." I will wager that Grace did not tell you anything at all if you did ask."

"You'd win too. Best two out of three?" he said with a nod.

"Not with you. You cheat. Tell me something though. Did you check Fortinbras out as thoroughly as you did me?"

"Of course. Michael, I'm not trying to be unfair to you. I simply do not approve of your relationship with my daughter. And I most assuredly do not approve of her being the central figure in those little sexual fantasies that you write and publish," he said firmly.

I grinned.

"What makes you think they're fantasies?" I asked cheerfully." Or is this another case of 'No sex please, we're British'? "

"I hardly doubt my you and my daughter have done some of the things you write about. And as for the idea of women running the world from the shadows, that's hardly plausible now is it," he protested.

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Wallace, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," I replied repressing a laugh.

"Poppycock," he said and rose from his seat. "Let's go back to the ladies."

"I'll join you in a few minutes. I'd like to stay out here a little while," I declined.

"Try not to get lost," he said and trudged up the hill and out of sight leaving me in the grove.

"Did you accomplish what you'd intended?" Wendolyn's voice said from the fog.

I turned to face her, not in the least startled by her presence having been expecting it.

"I'm not sure I accomplished anything other than adding to his confusion," I admitted. " Did you tell Minkin you were going for a walk as well?"

"I didn't tell her anything because I didn't have to. She decided to take a walk herself and I decided to follow her example," she said as she appeared from the mist.

"I see. May I ask you a question?"

"Of course. I may not answer it though," she said spreading her hands wide.

"I understand. Do you believe what I've written in the Diaries?" I asked watching her face.

"Should I?" she asked with amusement.

"I think you have ways of checking the facts. You have a number of talents that peak my curiosity and cause me to suspect that you are far more than you let on," I persisted.

"Perhaps I do have a few unique abilities," she said modestly.

"Including lock picking and basic spycraft. Just a common British wife and mother," I teased.

"And you suspect what? That I'm a Daughter of Ay'esha?" she retorted.

"If you were, you wouldn't tell me anyway. And I understand why. All I'll say is that I will serve your daughter as well as I can until she no longer needs me," I said kneeling before her.

"You are a very special man Michael. And you do us honor, despite your tendency to cause problems large and small for everyone including yourself," she said placing her hand against my cheek. "Natural talent Mi'lady," I said looking into her eyes and seeing the same beauty in them that was in my beloved Minx's eyes.

"Please don't be too concerned about Wallace. I'll make sure he doesn't cause too much trouble for you both," she said reassuringly.

She withdrew her hand and walked into the mists again without a word fading into them like a wraith.

I rose and brushed the damp soil from my knees and set out for the picnic grounds with a light heart and whistling "My heart's in the highlands."

The departure of Minx's parents from the City the next day was understated and properly reserved, Wendolyn kissing me on the cheek and Wallace shaking my hand firmly and reminding me of my promise to arrange a job for Miranda.

"I expect you'll take care of my daughter as well," he concluded.

"Yes sir. I'll do my best," I assured him.

"I expect nothing less than that. We'll see you again soon I'm sure," he said and picked up his briefcase and umbrella.

"Father," Minx said. "I do love you and I love Michael as well. Please give him a chance," she said quietly.

"I shall," he replied with a quick smile at her and a peck on the cheek. "Come along Wendolyn."

We watched their plane take off in silence and then had Tia drive us to the Bank, just another work day for the two of us.

"You know, I really do think my father likes you. He's not usually so loving in public," she said.

"Well at least we know your mother approves of my ass for sure," I replied.

She smiled.

"As you would probably say; Mine mine mine, all mine."

And of course the Mistress Is Always Right.

Chapter 28 Sections 1 to 3

The Odd Couple
The Parent Trap
Bedtime for Bonzo