The Diaries of Ayesha

Las Vegas. Home of slot machines, neon lights, and Sigfried and Roy.

Even those two wouldn't have been of any help with the situation I was dealing with in the Little Vale of the Kirk Wedding Chapel that afternoon.

"And do you Michael Forbin take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?" the minister invoked.

I looked at Minx as she stood next to me waiting for my answer and then turned back to the minister.

"I do," I responded.

"Then with the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I pronounce you husband and wife," he concluded. "You may kiss the bride."

I started to kiss Minx after she nodded in agreement.

A quick peck on the lips and we walked out of the chapel as man and wife.

As we got in the limo, I turned to my new bride and asked the first question of our married life.

"Now what?"

She ordered Tia to start driving before addressing my question and then turned to me.

"We go home and I move into your house for the next week or two to convince them we're a happily married couple," she replied settling back in her seat.

"You mean we aren't?" I teased.

"Michael, curb your sense of humor for the moment," she retorted sharply.

"You mean I don't even get to carry you over the threshold?" I asked disappointed.

"You can carry out whatever public rituals are required, but remember, we are married in name only. Try not to forget that please."

Now all of you are probably wondering how we got to this point.

It's really very simple.

I was working at my desk one afternoon when a government agent presented himself and his credentials to me.

"I'm Justin Hopper, Immigration and Naturalization Service. I'd like to speak to Miss Minkin Dawes," he said flashing his ID card.

I looked at him and smiled in return.

"Miss Dawes doesn't see anyone without an appointment Mr. Hopper. If you'd like to tell me what this is about, I'd be happy to make an appointment for you," I replied.

He reached into his briefcase and withdrew a packet of documents, the most prominent of which read in large letters "ORDER TO DEPORT".

"Is this sufficient cause to disturb Miss Dawes?" he said with a sardonic smile.

I excused myself and knocked softly on her door.

"Enter!" she called.

I opened the door and found Miss Minkin Dawes reading the Wall Street Journal and making notes on her desk pad with a frown on her face.

"There is a gentleman from the INS outside to see you, " I said.

She folded the paper and put it down carefully.

"Why?"

I hesitated before answering.

"I'm not sure, but he has an order to deport somebody with him."

She snorted in disgust.

"Tell him to take it to the Human Resources department. I don't have anything to do with INS at all," she directed sourly.

"I think you'd better see him," I cautioned.

She started to snarl at me and then regained her control.

"All right then, send him in."

I left the room and sent Mr. Hopper in and waited for him to leave.

And waited.

And waited.

And still waited.

Three hours later he left the room, nodded to me as he passed, and disappeared from sight.

The intercom buzzed for my attention and Minx ordered me into her office.

When I went in, she had her head down on her desk.

"Yes Miss Dawes?" I asked.

"Michael, marry me," she said looking up at me.

My brain stripped its gears at that point and I couldn't say anything in reply.

"Don't just stand there," she snapped, "sit down."

I sat and my brain finally restarted.

"Excuse me. You want me to marry you?"

"That's what I said," she replied. "It seems that unless I'm married, I'm going to be deported back to England for the next year."

"What happened?" I asked curiously.

She sighed and her mood lightened a bit.

"For years Ay'esha has managed to keep the INS from looking too closely at the immigration status of some of us. This year an auditor managed to pull the records, I'm not sure how, and they discovered I've overstayed my visa.

"So, unless I marry a citizen of the United States, I have to leave at least until I can reestablish my visa."

"Can't you appeal?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"Mr. Hopper agreed that I could appeal the decision, but I'd still have to leave the country in the interim. And the appeal could take as long as two years to be acted on."

"Did you speak to The Mother of Many?"

"She's still too ill. I spoke to Yanni, her assistant. She says that I'm not the only one who is suddenly under scrutiny and suggests that we get married until she can find out what's happening."

"So, you want to marry me," I mused.

"Michael, I don't want to marry somebody, I have to marry somebody. I marry you, at least I know we can get a divorce later without any problems."

"You think so?" I replied sarcastically.

Her head snapped to attention at the tone in my voice.

"Is there a problem Michael?" she asked sharply.

"Well, frankly yes. That wasn't exactly the most romantic proposal I've ever heard in my life you know. If I'm going to get married again, I'd like a little seduction to go with it," I said cheerfully.

She stared at me for a moment.

"All right, you win you little beast."

She got up from behind her desk and knelt before me and took my hand.

"Will you Michael Charles Forbin, consent to be my husband?" she said in excessive tones of sweetness.

"I would be honored Minkin Christina Dawes," I replied in the same sickly sweet tones.

Neither of us could help it at that point and both of us started laughing.

Later that night over dinner we contrived a plot to fool the INS. It was hardly an original one as it called for us to get married in Las Vegas and then live in my place long enough to convince them that we were serious. Once the paperwork was processed, we'd get a quickie divorce and that would be the end of it.

"Why do we have to live in your house?" Minx asked as I laid out the plot.

"Because if I lived in yours the INS might smell a rat. After all, I'm supposed to support my wife, not the other way around, " I replied honestly.

"I don't agree, but we'll try it your way first," she conceded.

"We can still have Miriam take care of the house if you want, " I suggested.

"No. If we're going to do this, we'll do it on our own."

"That's my wife," I quipped.

"Not yet I'm not. And let's get one thing straight. We may be married, but we don't fuck," she warned.

"And this is different from a regular marriage in what way?"

What we hadn't considered was possible external influence over the INS.

When we returned from Las Vegas and pulled to a stop in front of my house we found Mr. Hopper waiting for us.

"I understand congratulations are in order," he said as we walked up.

"Yes they are. But if you'll excuse us, I have to carry my wife across the threshold," I said unlocking and opening the door and taking Minx into my arms.

"Certainly. I just wanted to tell you I'd be keeping an eye on you. You see people have this tendency to get married just to avoid deportation, and while I wouldn't want to accuse you of anything..." he said letting his meaning be implied.

"Of course," I said and carried Minx into the house and kicked the door shut behind us with a slam.

"All right, you can put me down now," Minx ordered.

"Right now?" I asked innocently.

"Now."

I let go of her and she fell the two feet to the futon chair and landed on her precious ass.

"Michael!" she snapped.

"Sorry, I was only following orders," I said and sat on the floor beside her.

She slapped me softly and then looked back towards the front door.

"Do you think he's gone?" she said softly.

I shook my head and pantomimed a spider crawling across the floor and then swung my head in all directions as if searching for something.

She got the idea and reached into her purse for her cell phone.

I got to my feet and turned on the water in the kitchen and let it run while she dialed the phone.

"Yes, this is Miss Dawes. I need an exterminator to come to Mr. Forbin's house. This place may be infested with bugs," she said when it was answered.

She nodded at the reply from the other end and then pressed the disconnect button.

"Michael, this place is bug infested," she said loudly. "I'm going to have the whole place fumigated."

"I'm sorry. It's only a couple of ants," I replied playing along with her.

"A couple of ants can turn into a couple of hundred in no time at all," she responded getting up and walking into the bedroom.

I followed her into the bedroom and then the bathroom where she turned on the shower and shut the door.

"Now we can talk at least. Do you really think he bugged the place?" she asked leaning against the sink.

"I'm not taking any chances at this point. It's pretty clear that our Mr. Hopper is playing for keeps. I'm not sure if he's working for the INS or Kali or for Dr. Kimball for that matter," I replied.

"I hadn't even thought of Dr. Kimball. Do you suppose he's trying to get even by splitting us up?" she suggested.

"I doubt it. What keeps me from following you if you're deported? Nothing at all so far as he knows. Kali on the other hand might see this as a chance to cripple Ay'esha's finances by getting you out of the way. Even with the other financial people backing you up, you're key to most of the operations.

"Or it might just be the fact your number came up in the INS computer. But considering what the Mother of Many told you, I think we can rule that out," I surmised.

"So we act normally until the place is swept for bugs," Minx concluded.

"Until we know how far he's willing to go to find out if we're really married, we have to assume we're being watched all the time."

She groaned.

"So what about tonight? It's our wedding night. If they're listening, they'll expect to hear something," she pointed out.

"So we fake it."

She looked at me with distaste.

"I haven't faked an orgasm yet and I'm not going to start now," she proclaimed.

"So what are you going to do?"

She looked at me and smiled evilly

"You'll find out."

We shut off the shower and returned to the living room in time to hear a knock on the door.

I opened it to find a young woman wearing a jumpsuit with a name tag on it that indicated her name was Jenni identifying her as being from an exterminating company and carrying a sprayer and a tool box.

"I'm here to debug your house," she said walking in and setting the toolbox down.

I closed the door behind her as she opened the toolbox and took out a small black box and flipped a switch on.

"Short range jammer," she said looked up at me." That will keep them busy checking their own equipment if they have bugged the place."

With that she took the top off the sprayer to reveal a small radio detection system and switched it on.

It took her about half an hour to sweep the area for bugs including the phone before pronouncing the place clean.

"No bugs. But I'd be careful of the phones just in case," she said.

"Thank you," Minx said. "Please bill the office as usual."

Jenni left and we were on our own again.

Our first dinner as a married couple consisted of take out Thai food while we went through the motions of being a newlywed couple. Our performance probably wouldn't win an Oscar, but we were playing for bigger stakes anyway.

After dinner we settled down and watched my copy of the Rocky Horror Picture Show until it was time to go to bed.

She slipped into the bedroom ahead of me and told me to wait until I was called for.

"I want to wear something special for you, " she called through the half open door.

I thought back to our first night together, and remembered the first time she wore something special for me.

She was dressed in a white satin corset, a white garter belt and stockings, and white high heels. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and her lips were painted bright red.

And hanging between her legs was a dildo.

"Michael my love, please come in here," she called breaking into my reverie.

I entered the room to find she had lit the candles and was lying naked on the bed with a vibrator in her hand.

"You look wonderful," I stammered looking at her.

She motioned for me to come closer and whispered in my ear.

"I want you to strip and play with yourself and make lots of noise," she said.

I would have blushed if she hadn't added another few words.

"And you'll face away from me sitting on the floor. I may not be faking my orgasm, but that doesn't mean you get to watch tonight."

Sigh.

And make noise we did. Minx bounced on the bed to make the springs squeak and cover up the sound of the sex toy and I moaned and groaned like an old boiler until I heard her cum and then let my own load go onto the floor.

She rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom, coming out a minute latter dressed in my tattered old robe and handed me a washcloth to clean up with, then to my surprise kissed my cheek.

"I know that's not how you wanted to spend your wedding night, but it's the best I can offer," she said softly.

I finished cleaning myself and went into the bathroom to rinse out the cloth and returned to find her fast asleep in the middle of the bed.

I covered her with the quilt from the end of the bed and then taking a spare blanket, curled up at the side of the bed where I could watch her in the candlelight as I slipped off to sleep.

It might not have been the wedding night I would have chosen, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world. ;

I woke up early that next morning and slipped quietly into the kitchen so as not to disturb my sleeping bride.

It was kind of strange to think of Minx of my bride after all the years of wanting to marry her, but I still wished it were more than a marriage of convenience.

Ah well, what can't be cured must be endured.

I fixed breakfast as quietly as I could and then took the tray into the bedroom.

I set it down on the dressing table and then touched Minx's shoulder to wake her up.

"Good morning my wife," I said softly.

She rolled over with a moan and buried her head under the pillow.

"Go away," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Yes Mi'lady. Your breakfast is waiting for you when you want it," I replied and started to walk away.

I was stopped by the impact of a pillow on the back of my head.

"Come back here," she demanded.

I turned back and knelt next to the bed and looked into her soft eyes.

"Bring it to me my husband," she said with a hint of a smile.

"Oh yes Mi'lady. Certainly Mi'lady. By your command, Mi'lady, " I said lightly.

She started to get angry and then laughed.

"Good, I see you know your place in this marriage," she said taking the tray from me.

"It's not like it's changed much. It's been that way since we got engaged," I said for the benefit of any listening ears.

"And you love every minute of it," she teased sipping her juice.

"What else do you think I married you for?" I replied.

"Well it wasn't my money. When my father finds out I married one of my employees and one who is older than I am at that, he'll disown me."

I didn't know what to make of that comment, if she was kidding or what, but the whole idea disturbed me.

"Your father is an elitist pig," I replied.

"And your point being? My father expected me to marry well. He wasn't amused by the idea of my marrying Fortinbras, but you? As you like to say, he'll have a cow."

" I'll just have to convince him otherwise. Of course, I'm really more concerned about convincing your mother."

She looked at me as if I had sprouted wings and horns.

"Under no circumstances are you to speak to my mother without me being present," she said in her flat no nonsense command voice.

"Yes Ma'am," I said shaken by her reaction.

I escaped into the safety of the kitchen and ate my own breakfast while turning the implications over in my head.

She had to be kidding about being disowned.

"Michael," she called after a short while, "where do you keep the spare toilet paper?"

"Right hand side of the cabinet next to the toilet," I called back.

I heard the toilet flush and a minute later she came out and handed me a roll of toilet paper.

"You will replace this won't you?" she asked in one of her more dangerous tones of voice.

I examined the roll carefully and then made the error of asking why.

"This is not the softest tissue in the world," she said patiently," and my behind is far more sensitive than yours is. So I'd appreciate it if you'd buy something softer."

"Perhaps you'd like to use silk hankies?" I said somewhat offended by her comments.

"Only if you wash them yourself. Or perhaps you'd rather spend all your time in the bathroom substituting for the paper?"

Now while that does have its appeal, it's not practical by any means.

"I'll change brands Mi'lady. Anything else not to your liking?"

She looked at me as if I was being deliberately sarcastic and then replied.

"The place could be a little neater. But there is time for that later."

When we went back to work Monday, the change in marital status caused a new set of problems for me.

Even before I sat down at my desk I was ordered to report to the Human Resources department to fill out new forms for my insurance and medical.

I finished the stack of forms and then the HR clerk asked me what department I'd like to be transferred to.

"Excuse me? Why do I need to transfer?"

Her response was to pull out a copy of the employee handbook and flip to the page on relatives working together.

"It's against Bank policy for married couples to work together. So you'll need to be transferred to a new department or resign," she explained.

"Let me speak to Miss Dawes, sorry my wife, and we'll see what happens."

Minx's answer was short, direct, and unprintable.

"Bank policy. So now what boss?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Susan can come in and cover for you, but I don't like losing your talents. I'll see if there is a spot for you down at Transglobal Insurance. I didn't think about this problem," she fretted.

"There are probably going to be a few more things like this. We'll just have to take them one at a time," I comforted. "What have your parents said about the marriage?"

"I haven't told them yet. I was waiting for the right time," she demurred.

As if inspired by the Goddess, the phone rang.

"Miss Dawes, your father on line one," the temp assistant called.

Minx raised her eyebrows and pressed the speakerphone button.

"Hello Father, how are you?" she said.

"Hello Father how are you? I'd like to have been told that you ran off and got married rather than hearing it from a second hand source, " a sharply clipped British voice intoned.

"I haven't had time yet," she said.

"I see. You realize that if he doesn't meet the family standards, you'll be out on your ear," the voice continued.

"Father, there are some factors here that you aren't aware of," she started to say.

"Good God, don't tell me you're in the family way!" the voice sputtered.

"Father, listen to me carefully. I needed to get married but not for the reasons you think. It was a legal matter," she explained looking towards the heavens.

"What possible legal matter would inspire you to marry someone at the drop of a hat?"

She pressed the mute button on the phone and turned to me.

"Would you mind leaving the room Michael?"

"Of course. Give him my regards," I said heading for the door as she pressed the mute button again.

"Father, I don't propose discussing my reasons on an overseas phone call, but rest assured the reason is an excellent one," I heard her say as the door closed behind me.

Her temp assistant stopped me on the way out and asked what working for Miss Dawes was like.

I smiled at her innocent young face and shrugged.

"She's very easy to work for. Just remember she prefers her tea stirred anticlockwise," I said and stepped into the elevator.

Before going home that night I drove to the store and started picking up the things I needed for the house and of course toilet paper of the finest, softest grade available.

I was hesitating over a selection of fresh fruit when Mr. Hopper joined me.

"Shopping for the two of you. Very domestic," he offered.

I hefted the cantaloupe in my hand and considered the last time I had used one as a weapon carefully before speaking.

"Hopper, have you got some kind of vendetta against my wife and I? Or is this on your own time?" I snapped.

"I'd be real careful how I spoke, if I were you," he warned with a smile.

"I'm not you and frankly I don't give a shit anymore. If you think we're hiding something, bust us, but otherwise get off our asses. Tomorrow morning I'm calling the INS office and filing a complaint," I said coldly.

"Go ahead. But don't expect anything to change. I think this marriage of yours is a fake, and I'm going to prove it."

I walked away from him before he could say anything more. I knew it was pointless to argue with him, but I was going to make sure that someone heard about his attitude problem.

Although the idea of decking him still appealed to me.

When I arrived home Minx wasn't there but had left a message on the machine.

"This is your wife. I'm working late tonight. Don't bother with dinner and don't wait up. See you in the morning."

Harrumph. Not even an I love you, I thought.

I played the next message.

"I forgot to tell you I love you. Bye", she said.

I was just glad she wasn't there to see the resultant blush.

I settled for a TV dinner and then concentrated on getting the place cleaned up and then conceded defeat after an hour.

There was only one thing left to do.

"Hi Miriam, are you doing anything tonight?" I said after calling Minx's house.

"No Master. Congratulations on the wedding," she added.

"I need your help in getting the house here cleaned up enough to suit the Mistress," I said crossing my fingers.

"I'll be right over," she said and the phone went dead.

When Miriam arrived she took a look at the house and laughed.

"It's not as bad as it looks Master. I thought we were talking about a real mess. Where do you want me to start?" she asked.

"Any place you like. I just need the help," I said in relief.

"I'll take the bathroom and bedroom. You concentrate on the kitchen and the living room," she said. "And don't forget to scrub out the stove burners."

"Stove burners?" I asked.

"She's a bit fussy about the stove being perfectly clean," she explained. "So you need to make sure the gunk is out of the pans under the stove burners."

It was well after midnight before I called a halt to the process and Miriam sank into my favorite chair in the living room.

"It wasn't that big a mess Master, but there were tons of notes I had to look at and file to make sure I didn't throw anything away that was important," she said as I poured her a cup of tea.

"I know that the Mistress is much neater in her habits Miriam, and I wouldn't have called you if it weren't important," I said apologetically.

"Oh that all right. I'd rather you did than have her upset with you," she comforted. "You've been living alone for too long and you don't think about things. The Mistress prefers things tidy."

"The Mistress is a neat freak," I rebutted gently." It was much easier taking care of her old place at the Rancho, than trying to take care of this place and her."

"She can take care of herself and you know it," she said yawning.

"Do you want to spend the night here and drive home in the morning?" I asked concerned.

She nodded.

"If you don't mind. I am a bit tired. I'll just curl up on the couch and take a nap and be on my way."

I shook my head.

"Sorry, but the couch is mine. You sleep in the bed where you belong," I scolded.

She got out of the chair as instructed and kissed me on the cheek as she passed.

"You are really a very sweet man Master. Good night."

I watched her go and then after clearing away the tea things, shut out the lights and went to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to find Miriam already up and making breakfast for me.

"Good morning Master," she said pouring coffee for me.

"And to you slave," I said hesitating over the use of the word." Did you sleep well?"

"I did. I would suggest that you change fabric softener though. If you're not going to put the satin sheets the Mistress prefers on the bed that is," she said tactfully.

"And another country heard from. All right, fine. Can you bring some over later?" I grumbled.

"Of course Master. Please don't be insulted."

"Who's insulted? I'm just unprepared for guests."

I escorted Miriam to her car after she finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes and with a quick kiss, sent her on her way back to Minx's house. I stopped at the Bank briefly to see if I'd been assigned a new position yet and then after that, I headed for the Federal Building to have a quiet discussion with the regional director of the INS about the professional morals of Mr. Justin Hopper.

When I arrived to speak to the director, I was told to fill out a complaint form and have a seat until I was called for.

"Young lady, I'd suggest that you tell the director that Michael Forbin is here to see him on the Dawes matter. Tell him that his wife knows," I said softly.

She looked at me for a moment confused and then pressed the intercom button.

"There is a Mister Forbin to see you about the Dawes case. He says that your wife knows," she announced.

"Send him in," a woman's voice replied with an amused tone.

"I'll bet you didn't even know she was married," I winked and entered the inner office.

"Sit down Mr. Forbin. Your reputation precedes you," she said. "I'm Allison Hayes, regional INS director."

Ms. Hayes was a nicely built redhead with a touch of gray in her hair and a smug look on her face.

"I assume that Mr. Hopper has already explained my complaint to you?" I said sitting down across from her.

She pulled a file out of her desk and flipped through it.

"Michael Charles Forbin, born January 30th, widowed, employed by Dawes, Jones, Mosley, and Grubbs as an administrative assistant to Miss Minkin Dawes. Congratulations on your marriage by the way. Strange how the timing on that worked out."

"Yes isn't it. But you know, people fall in love and get married everyday Ms. Hayes." I said casually.

"Yes, but they usually don't have another woman in their bed the day afterwards," she replied and slid a photograph of my kissing Miriam goodbye across the desk.

"I see you haven't exactly wasted any time in mounting surveillance on me," I remarked." I take it this is not standard procedure for your department."

"You may take it as you wish," she said neutrally.

"You might want to get your facts straight. She's my wife's housekeeper and a very good friend."

" I can see that from the picture. You see we deal with this type of thing all the time, people getting married to keep from being deported. It's against the law you know. Mr. Hopper is just doing his job."

"And he does it so well too. Well you'll forgive me if I try and avoid being followed or watched by him. Just one of those little quirks of mine. By the way, I hope you have a very good lawyer on staff, because the harassment suit is going to cost you a pretty penny," I warned.

"Of course. Good day Mr. Forbin and thank you for coming in," she said rising from her chair.

On the way out of the building I stopped at a pay phone and called Minx on her private line at the Bank to warn her of the watching eyes.

"Yes," she said when she answered.

"jatlh tlhIngan maH tu'," I said in Klinhazi. Speak Klingon we're watched.

"'Iv?" Who

"qum" Government I replied.

"QI'yaH," she snarled. The last word is a very obscene Klingon expression that doesn't translate into English at all. Sort of like zvoloch in Russian.

"Hlja." Yes.

"tugh Hlghos," she ordered. "Hurry and come here."

"jlyah." Understood. I replied and hung up.

Now it might seem a little silly that she and I would speak in Klinhazi on the phone, but even with the number of people learning it, the odds that most eavesdroppers would have any idea what we were saying was pretty remote.

When I got to the Bank, her assistant ushered me into her office without a pause and shut the door behind us. Before I said anything I made the sign of the three monkeys to ask if we were being listened to.

"I have the phone service people checking the lines for taps, and I've switched the private line to digital and scrambled. What happened exactly?" she asked.

I told her of the interview and the picture as she paced the floor impatiently.

"This is going to be a major problem. The reason I didn't come home last night was an Ay'esha matter. There are still some matters to be settled even though the Mother of Many is recovering."

" We've got to get Hopper off our backs," I suggested.

"And you need to be more careful. Although frankly," she said musing, "I'm not sure why Ms. Hayes showed you the pictures."

"Probably just to get my goat," I said looking out at the City.

"Maybe. Then again, she might also be trying to warn us as well," she suggested.

"Do you think she's a Daughter? " I asked.

Minx shook her head.

"I don't know Michael. It's almost impossible for me to know everyone since we've grown so large. Even if she is, she couldn't stop Hopper without drawing suspicion to herself. We need to try and satisfy his curiosity as much as we can without endangering our security."

"All right. Incidentally, are you coming home tonight my good wife?" I asked lightly.

"Verily, good husband," she replied. "I hope to find a few things changed. Especially if you had Miriam there."

"Yes Ma'am," I replied. "I even have the improved toilet paper for your use."

"Good boy. Don't bother cooking tonight. We'll order out," she offered. "Chinese or Thai?"

"How about calling Pizza Fella instead?"

"I thought you couldn't eat pizza?" she queried

"I can't. But they have a terrific fried chicken dinner," I explained.

She smiled indulgently

"Pizza Fella it is. Now off with you. I still have work to do before I can come home," she said shooing me towards the door.

I kept a careful watch on the rearview mirror to see if I was being tailed and decided either I wasn't being tailed or the people tailing me were real professionals instead of the usual amateurs.

When Minx arrived home I met her at the door with a goblet of fruit juice and a kiss on the cheek for the watching agents.

"Nice to be home," she said sitting down in my chair." Why don't you call and order dinner for us? Just tell them I want my usual and you get what you want."

"Sounds good," I said heading for the phone.

When I came back she was sound asleep, the glass of juice just barely still in her hand. I smiled and covered her with the afghan from the couch after carefully taking the glass from her. By keeping a careful watch out the front window, I intercepted the deliveryman before he could knock on the door and set the meal carefully on the kitchen table before waking her from her nap.

"Mistress, dinner is here," I said softly touching her face.

I found my hand in a vise tight grip looking at a very startled Mistress.

"Never wake me up that way again Michael," she said tightly." I thought you were a spider."

"I don't have enough legs," I replied. "And from the way you're holding that hand, may wind up a few fingers short as well."

She released my hand with an embarrassed look and got out of the chair.

Over dinner we discussed how we were going to integrate her things into my house as it was much smaller than hers.

"I don't see any reason we can't keep two places Michael. I still think you're being unnecessarily stubborn about moving into my house. It would be much easier on us both. Then Miriam could take care of the housekeeping and cooking," she said.

"I understand your point of view dearest," I said, " but we don't really need to decide right now anyway. I'm more worried about paying for everything. I'm not as well off as you are."

She shook her head.

"I know I'm somewhat high maintenance but don't worry about money. I make enough for both of us."

"That is until your father decides to cut you off," I reminded.

"Damn it. That reminds me. My parents are flying over here this weekend to meet you," she said anxiously

"Great, just great," I said." See me safely to the gibbet sir. On the downward trip I shall shift for myself."

She swatted me gently.

"It's not that bad," she comforted.

"Are you sure about that?"

She shrugged helplessly.

"No."

We slept together that night; except for the wall of pillows that separated us from any kind of body contact. Still it was an improvement over sleeping on the floor and by maneuvering my body just so, I could place my hand on her back.

When I woke up I discovered that she had actually wiggled most of the pillows out from between us and was curled against me like a small kitten. I laid there quietly thinking of her warm flesh against mine, and marveling that hers aroused me so much.

Perhaps it was just the rarity of our contact or the smell of her body, but I knew I needed her worse than anything I had ever needed before did. That touch of her flesh reminded me of the choices I had made and the things I had suffered through for just the simple touch of her hand, a touch that could be as soft as a rose petal or as sharp as a thorn.

This was what I had fought for. The simple act of her touch.

She wrapped her arm around me sleepily and then looked into my face, her expression startled at first and then changing into one of comfort.

"Good morning mine sklave," she murmured.

"Good morning my wife," I whispered burying my face in her hair and inhaling her aroma.

"Good morning my husband," she said with an amused tone in her voice. "Did you sleep well?"

I looked into her face and smiled.

"I did, thank you," I said softly.

She hesitated and then kissed me quickly as she rolled out of my embrace.

"Sorry. Nature calls," she apologized heading for the bathroom.

"Need any help?" I asked cheerfully.

"I'll bet you'd like that," she replied closing the door behind her.

I heard the shower start running as I started her tea and then heard her call for me.

"Yes Mi'lady," I asked sticking my head in the door.

"Why don't you come in here with me and do my back?" she asked, gesturing through the shower curtain.

"You don't have to ask me twice," I replied and stripped off my robe and joined her.

She was facing away from me letting the hot water cascade across her breasts as I picked up the soap and started lathering her back.

"Michael," she said over the noise of the water," I want to apologize to you."

"For what?" I replied reaching for the loofa.

"I know how hard it is to have me living with you under these circumstances. I know how much you love me and even more how much you want to make love to me. I'm sorry that I can't feel the same way."

I kept silent, keeping my attention on my work rather than thinking about her words.

"I mean, I know how you feel, but it's not practical. I'm committed to my career and Ay'esha. I can't really get involved on a permanent basis with anybody. I was wrong to even consider marrying Fort."

I grunted noncommittally and started rinsing the soap off her back.

"Would you like me to wash your front as well?" I asked calmly.

She turned to face me in anger.

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've said to you?' she demanded.

"Sure I have. You're saying that even though I love you, you can't love me the same way. I understand that," I explained starting to soap her breasts.

"Do you know how selfish you make me sound?" she complained as I started using the loofa.

"Yep. And you are selfish, but for the right reasons. I love you Minx, and I always will. You know I've gone through hell searching for someone else like you and always come back. I'll always be collared in my heart to you. But I know how much your life means to you. Until you can share all of it with me, I'll be as patient as always," I replied.

She took the soap and loofa from me and without a word started scrubbing me.

Breakfast was a very quiet affair, each of us occupied with their own thoughts about that morning's discussion a silence finally interrupted by the arrival of Tia to pick Minx up for the ride to work.

Now as I've noted in the past, Tia isn't the most expressive woman in the world, but today even she couldn't help but notice the strained mood in the room.

"You two look like the world is coming to an end instead of a happily married couple," she exclaimed.

"Thank you Tia, that will be all," Minx growled." Michael I'll call you later about dinner."

I watched the two of them drive away and considered my options for the rest of my day. I still hadn't been assigned to a new job with the Bank or any place else for that matter so I was back on an enforced vacation that I would rather not have had.

I did some writing of my notes for stories, sorting them from the nobody will believe it at all category into the true but unbelievable category but after awhile (and a number of solitaire games) I decided to venture forth into the world and get some lunch.

When I pulled away from the curb I noticed a car a block away start up as well and slowly start following me.

"Mr. Hopper, I presume," I thought as I turned towards the freeway. "Let's see how good you are."

And then in the words of Tom Lehrer and Lobichevski, I get idea.

I decided to pay a call on an old friend and hopefully cause a little trouble in return for all the trouble she had caused me in the past few weeks.

"Hi, I'd like to see Isis," I announced to the receptionist at Rudenko Imports.

"Who's shall I say is here?" she asked picking up the phone.

"Just tell her that Mister Forbin is requesting an audience," I suggested.

The girl did as instructed and was promptly told to send me in.

"Michael, what a nice surprise," Isis said standing up and indicating a chair." I understand that you and your Mistress just got married. Congratulations!"

"You know, I've never understood how you can be such a nice person in some ways and such a bitch in others," I said sitting down.

She lit a cigarette and smiled.

"Well, it's a living. And besides the benefits of being a bitch at times are really quite generous," she said. "What can I do for you today? I notice you don't have that friend of yours with you."

"Gerl Danger. No, I have a new friend with me today. He's from the INS and his name is Mr. Hopper. I'll bet he's checking out your warehouse right now and looking for proper documents for your people. He's a bit anal that way," I said.

"You surely don't think my people wouldn't have everything in order do you? I mean what was the point in bringing him here?" she said amused.

" I was trying to embarrass him. I figured if things were in order, he'd look like an idiot. And if things weren't in order, he'd be too busy hassling you to bother with Minx and I," I explained.

" Michael, there are times when you're too clever for your own good and it's going to get you in serious trouble," she advised.

"I'm sure I am, but I can't resist it some times. I mean you and Kali have pulled off some pretty Machiavellian plots as well in your time as well. Like the attempt to cut of the water supply to the Rancho? Or like the one that put Mr. Hopper in my hair," I suggested.

"Michael, we've been enemies for some time now, but it's always been professional not personal. So far as I know, any problems you're having with the INS aren't coming from my side of the fence," she denied. " After all we could have done it at any time in the past few years if we'd wanted to."

I considered her words and her expression and decided she might actually be telling the truth for a change. Not that she made a habit of lying to me but for her it is a profession.

"Then I'm dreadfully sorry for the inconvenience," I said getting up from the chair.

"Let's just call it a nice try and let it go at that. At least this time I didn't wind up wearing a cantaloupe," she laughed.

"I forgot to bring one."

Mr. Hopper was standing in a side office talking rather intently to a somewhat flustered looking young woman when I came out. He wasn't looking in my direction so I took advantage of that to scurry out the door and across the street. I figured he could just sit and watch my car for the rest of the day if he wanted.

Little things amuse little minds.

I caught a bus in the general direction of Pier 39 so I could get some lunch at the Eagle Cafe and in general get some time to think about the situation.

Isis had a valid point. Kali could well have started that type of problem at any time.

I wished I knew whom else in Ay'esha was being harassed by the INS. I wasn't sure that I knew any of the people or that it would even make a difference knowing, but there was something nagging me about the timing of the whole thing.

I walked out on the end of the pier after lunch and watched the sea lions that had taken residence in the small marina to the annoyance of the boat owners and the delight of the tourists, sleeping and playing.

As I watched them, I thought about what Mei Ling had told me about the internal problems in Ay'esha with the illness of the Mother of Many. Could the people being harassed be on one side or the other of the issue?

I hurried to a phone booth and called Grace. If anybody could tell me if I was on the right track, she could.

"Yes Michael?" she asked. "I'm between patients so you need to make it brief."

"Very quickly Mistress. Do you know exactly who the INS is hassling and where they stand in Ay'esha or can you find out?" I asked.

"I can find out. Why?"

"Decapitation. I think someone is trying to remove people from the council indirectly," I explained.

"Interesting," she replied and hung up without another word.

You always know where you stand with that woman... NOT!

I took a bus back to the warehouse and found Mr. Hopper sitting in his car watching mine intently while another car full of INS agents drove away.

Shaking my head I walked up from behind him and opened the door to his car and got in startling him.

"Have a nice afternoon?" I asked cheerfully.

He glared at me.

"Are you always this way, or is it just me you don't like?" he asked.

"Well I don't like being followed and I don't like the way you've been harassing my wife and I. So a little harassment in return is justified in my eyes," I said. "Incidentally, I had a wonderful lunch at the Eagle while you were sitting out here."

"How?" he asked mystified.

"I walked across the street when you were in the other office. You should never let anything distract you when you're doing a surveillance you know. It could get you killed in some cases."

"And I suppose you know something about that?" he asked disdainfully.

"More than you might think," I replied. "Would you like to declare a truce or shall we continue this battle of wits?"

"I'm just doing my job," he replied.

"And that was a very popular excuse in Germany in the 30's too. Look, I don't have anything against you personally or the INS. But I do have a problem with your methods in this case. I take it very personally when people call me a liar. I married Minkin because I love her. We might have gotten married in June anyway if you hadn't forced the issue," I proclaimed.

"Mr. Forbin, I just carry out the orders I'm given. I was handed a list of people who had overstayed their visas and was told to give them their deportation orders. If your wife was on the list, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry if you feel I was calling you a liar, but people do get married to avoid deportation."

"I don't doubt that Justin," I said using his first name to try and establish some rapport with him. "I'm just asking you to give us the benefit of the doubt."

"Mr. Forbin, I'd like to, but I have to follow agency policy. The timing of your marriage is suspect and I have to make sure that it's legitimate."

"All right," I agreed. "But I'd planned on naming my first boy after you," I said opening the door.

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah, Dipshit Forbin has such a nice ring to it," I replied getting out and slamming the door after me.

I drove home to find a message on the machine I was half expecting to the effect that Minx wouldn't be home for dinner again. A second message on the machine was from Grace.

"Call me at home when you get this message," it said.

I called the number she had left for me and was told to meet her at her office.

"This is something we need to discuss in private and not on the phone," she advised.

"Does this fall into the "I was right, it was a gun" category?" I asked.

"Smokin!" she replied and hung up.

I drove most of the way to Grace's office before pulling over and parking to check for a tail. I didn't see one, but I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and caught a bus for the rest of the trip just to be sure.

When I got there I knocked on the door to the back entrance Grace used on occasion and she opened it quickly.

"What took you so long?" she scolded.

"Had to go to the Rolls Royce dealer. Had to steal a spare magneto," I said in a Peter Falk accent.

"This is not a time for your sense of humor Michael," she said seriously.

"Sorry," I apologized.

She handed me a folder with a red security seal on it and told me to open it.

"I'm not sure I'm cleared for this," I objected.

"Michael, I'm not sure about anything. But I do know that your talent for connecting the dots has paid off again."

I opened the folder and looked at the list of names and then back at Grace.

"And these tell me what?" I asked handing it back.

"Sit down," she said pointing to her couch and moving her chair next to it.

"Not lay down? Sorry."

"I know that you were taught the basics of Ay'esha's history and were somewhat involved in a split of Ay'esha a few years ago," she said.

"If you're referring to Lydia and Kali, yes I suppose I have to take the blame for that," I said ruefully.

"Not at all Michael. It would have happened anyway just perhaps not then. That's a moot point. The important part is the politics of the situation. Since that time the debate over how to control things has resurfaced. One group leans more towards direct control and the other still holds to the more subtle approach. Long term manipulation over time will have better results than trying a radical shift in thinking. I support the slow plan and while the results aren't radical, they are observable."

"So you're telling me that people are becoming impatient and want to hurry the process along," I confirmed.

"To the point that some of the problems in Washington over the last year can be traced back to the same small group," she said.

"Are you trying to tell me that the President...?"

She shook her head.

"I'm not trying to tell you anything. The evidence is circumstantial but telling."

"I take it that the list of people you showed me are the moderates that favor the current plan?"

She nodded.

"Perceptive as usual. Now the question is how to present your theory properly so that no one gets forced into a corner and adds to the problem."

"Well it's not like I can say anything," I commented. "I'm a few rungs above pond scum to some of those women."

"You're a few rungs below pond scum to some of those women, don't flatter yourself. No, you're already distrusted by some and disliked by many because of your attitude so there is no way you could present it. Besides, you're male."

"Sexist sow," I teased. "So we need somebody that everybody respects who can present the facts and suspicions," I suggested. "Why can't you do it?"

"I'm well known as a supporter of the slow method. We need to think of a neutral party who can look at the facts and present them without being accused of collusion."

As we sat thinking, I looked around the room idly. Her cat wasn't on the windowsill that night, it was draped across her desk instead snoring and twitching. I thought about my old cat Fifty and smiled in the gloom, the room lighted only by the single lamp on the desk.

Someone respected and trusted.

When you start thinking about someone to present a theory that could destroy a hundred plus years of work, you really think about it.

I felt like Einstein writing his letter to Roosevelt during World War Two suggesting the possibility of the atomic bomb. I also kept in mind his remorse afterwards when it was found the Germans weren't even close to building a bomb and that we didn't need to either.

"Don't you have any ideas?" I asked finally.

She shook her head.

"No, most of the people I know are on one side or the other on this issue."

"Well how about somebody who retired or left Ay'esha? I assume people do retire?" I asked.

"People do retire Michael. We don't put them in a Village and give them numbers," she rebuked.

I lay down on the couch and closed my eyes while Grace thought about it. I was sure she'd think of something.

I woke up with sunlight streaming in the window and the cat curled up on my chest. It opened it's eyes and looked at me when I started to get up with that "I'm sleeping and you're staying" look in its eyes.

"Morning, Michael," Grace said as she set a tray on her desk." I thought I'd at least feed you before I throw you out into the street."

I disengaged the cat from my chest and sat up.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you," I apologized.

"Oh, don't worry about that. Minx always said you looked different when you slept. I have to agree with her."

"Well perhaps we should sell tickets," I groused reaching for the coffee on the tray.

"Maybe. In any case I did think of someone who could present the case last night. She was very well respected when she retired. Some thought she would have become the next Mother of Many," she explained.

"Sounds perfect," I mused.

Grace picked up her own coffee cup that said AMAZING on it and sipped from it.

"I called her last night and laid out the theory. Madeleine agreed to look at the file and if she thinks the idea is sound, she'll present it. She's flying here this morning."

"Well then my work is done," I said reaching for the toast.

"Probably. But I'd suggest you start thinking about Plan B. If she doesn't think the theory is sound, we're back at square one. After all while you and Minx solved the problem by getting married, that won't work for everyone. The INS reacts slowly, but they do react eventually," she advised.

"No rest for the wicked. I just hope I can deal with Minx's parents this weekend," I said finishing my toast.

"A little professional advice Michael. They're probably just as nervous about you as you are about them. After all you married their daughter under circumstances that were abrupt to say the least. I don't think she's talked about you very much to her family at all. And before you say it, it's not because she's not proud of you, but she doesn't discuss her personal life with her family very much.

"They were not very supportive of her marriage to Fort and even less so of her decision to call off the wedding. Her family has a long reputation to uphold and she's the eldest daughter of three. I expect her father was expecting a son to carry on the family business and name and not a daughter."

"Well you get what the Goddess gives you, despite the biologists," I commented.

"So anyway, give them a chance to get used to you. You've probably got more in common than you think, besides their daughter," she suggested.

"Ok, I'll curb my sense of humor while they're here," I agreed.

"Good boy. Now get out of my office. I have people who really need me," she teased.

I caught a bus back to where I'd left the car and took the parking ticket off the windshield and tossed it into the glove compartment. It was an annual ritual with me to pay all my parking tickets on September seventh, the day the parking meter was invented.

Not that I had that many of them, but it always amazed me that the hero in movies and TV shows could always find a parking space right where he needed it.

I drove to the Bank that morning planning on throttling the HR department because they still hadn't found me a comparable position to transfer to and to pay a visit to my beloved.

Part one went swimmingly well, as they still hadn't done anything yet. I vented my displeasure at the situation on the HR Director and pointed out that the policy on married couples was unfair and sexist as there were multiple gay couples working in the same department without any issue made.

"I know it doesn't seem fair, but we are working on changing the policy ," she explained.

"In the meantime, I don't have a job. I appreciate being paid for not working, but its not my style," I complained.

She looked through a folder on her desk and shrugged.

"The only thing I have open even as a temp position is a help desk slot," she shrugged.

"I'll take it. If you look at my file you'll see I do have a technical support background," I reminded her.

"We generally don't move people to a lower level of responsibility," she objected.

"I don't consider technical support a lower level of responsibility. I'll take the position. I'll keep my pay grade of course," I said coldly.

"You'll be working for Mr. Savage," she said unruffled by my tone," in the MIS department on Monday morning. Enjoy yourself."

I took that as an indication to leave and then went up to see Minx

Her temp assistant informed me that Miss Dawes, sorry Mrs. Forbin wasn't in today.

"I thought she was at home," she said confused.

"A little advice Miss Lincoln," I said reading the nameplate on her desk. "When it comes to Miss Dawes' activities, don't ask. If you see her or I or Miss Bellamy walking around with a tree up our arses, it's in a good cause."

"If you see me walking around, call the Pope, because it will be a miracle," Susan Bellamy said wheeling herself into the room. "Looking for Minkin?"

"I was, but seems I missed her," I said. "How about lunch?"

"Love it. How about I buy?"

"Even better. After all I'm unemployed. At least till Monday."

"What are you doing on Monday?" she asked as we walked (OK I walked, she wheeled) towards the elevator.

"Working in MIS on the help desk for a guy named Savage," I said as we rode down.

"Evil Matt Savage. Oh this is going to be fun," she chortled.

"How so? I mean everything I've gathered so far is that this guy is some kind of monster," I commented as the doors opened at the bottom.

As we left the elevator a motorcycle roared in and skidded to a halt in the parking space just vacated by a Lexus, missing the car with only inches to spare.

The tall lanky driver got off the bike and headed for the elevator we'd just vacated, pulling his helmet off as he walked towards us, his long dark hair falling down over his back.

"That was Evil Matt Savage," Susan said after he passed us with a nod.

"And he's called that because?" I asked as we got to her van.

"He hates people. He's very good at what he does, but he hates people," she explained deploying the ramp for the chair.

"So do I. We will get along fine," I replied helping her up the ramp.

She picked the deli on the Polkstrasse that we had eaten at on our first dinner date and ordered the sauerkraut and sausage while I ordered the beef dip.

"I'm glad I'm not sharing an office with you right now," I said looking at her plate.

"Well you've been exposed to worse," she replied.

"True," I agreed.

We stayed with pretty trivial subjects through most of the lunch and then she asked me what I had seen Grace about.

"When? I haven't seen Grace in quite awhile," I replied.

"I saw you in her neighborhood this morning on the way in to work," she replied.

I had to think quickly, which isn't always one of my strong suits.

"I was talking to her about meeting Minx's parents. I'm a little nervous about it," I replied semihonestly.

She nodded.

"They do seem to be formidable. You'll do fine though. After all you beat my father and he's not exactly a pushover," she remarked.

"I had a tactical advantage. Your father is an overbearing twit and I'm not married to you. I screw up with Minx's father and the results will be more than catastrophic," I commented.

"True. And I can think of a few people who would be overjoyed," she replied darkly.

My heart jumped.

"Like who?" I asked carefully.

"Oh, there's this woman I met at the Rancho that doesn't care for you and Minx very much. I don't think she knows we're friends. She a bit radical, doesn't think that you or any man for that matter should be allowed out without a leash."

"What's her name?"

She shrugged.

"I've forgotten it. It was a long time ago anyway."

I surveyed her carefully before speaking.

"You know, I've never asked how you felt about it. I mean Ay'esha's whole plan," I said looking around for eavesdroppers.

"Honestly? I can't tell you how much I owe you and Minx and Ay'esha. I have an important job, and I'm involved in something that will make a difference. But personally, I don't think it's going to work. The part about putting men under total control. It's not going to work in the long run."

I raised my eyebrows.

"I doubt it will too. Lydia's faction that formed Kali felt that way. I'm sure Minx told you how much trouble I caused," I reminded.

Susan nodded.

"I'm surprised that there are still people who think that way in Ay'esha after that. But they're entitled to their opinions. I just wish they weren't so militant. It sounds like a palace revolt sometimes."

"You may be closer then you think," I replied darkly.

"Did you want to clarify that?" she asked curiously.

"I'd like to, but for a change I can say you don't need to know. At least not yet."

She looked at me intently.

"Michael Forbin. Do you really expect to get away with that answer with me?"

"If this is going to turn into an interrogation, at least read me my Miranda rights," I replied.

She rolled back from the table.

"Let's go," she said. "I have better things to do today than interrogate you."

"Yes, but will they be as much fun?" I asked.

"Probably not," she smiled thinking of an afternoon long ago and the sound of rain on a rooftop.

I returned to the house and settled down with a book and a cup of tea after making the bed with the satin sheets that Miriam had left neatly packaged on the doorstep ,to await Minx's arrival home, assuming she was coming home that night. I couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed by her comings and goings until I realized that it had always been that way in our relationship married or not.

I was snickering to myself about it when Minx arrived home.

"Something funny Michael?" she asked curiously.

"Oh just thinking about no matter how much things change, they still stay the same when it comes to us," I explained.

"Well there are some constants to the Universe after all," she replied sitting next to me

"Yep. Loving you is one of them," I said kissing her hand softly.

She smiled briefly and then asked what was on the dinner menu for that night.

I mentally reviewed the contents of the cupboards and rapidly decided on spaghetti.

"Spaghetti," I said rising from the comfy chair.

"Remember I like it al dente," she warned.

"That’s why I use Barilla," I said smugly.

"Good. You have learned something about cooking," she agreed.

I turned back to face her.

"Well you didn’t get food poisoning at the Rancho you know," I pointed out slightly miffed.

"The way you wash dishes some times I’m surprised," she replied acidly.

"You know, I’m getting a little tired of that refrain," I said. "Just because I’m never going to be as efficient as a dishwasher, is no reason to continued reminding me."

"I think its because you’re in too much of a hurry to finish." she prodded.

"And you know what I think?" I snapped and then regained some control over my temper, "I think that I should probably get dinner started."

" I think you should too."

I went all out for dinner that night; spaghetti, garlic bread, a small salad and for her desert even made a few chocolate covered strawberries as I had once before at the Rancho during my early life with her.

When I returned to the dining room. I found her standing dressed in her leather corset holding a riding crop with an expectant air.

"I think you may have forgotten how I prefer to be served slave," she said with an annoyed tone in her voice.

I set the food down on the table and knelt on the floor a few feet away from her.

"I have not forgotten Mistress. But you have not granted me the right to give you my service again. You released me to make my own way. Are you now recalling me to your service?" I asked respectfully.

She stepped forward and slapped me across the face with the crop.

"You will always be in my service, collared or not. I own your very soul and you know it. I expect the slave I trained as my last to serve me until his death. Is that quite clear to you M-5?" she said harshly.

"Yes Controller," I replied looking into her eyes.

I saw the anger and the pain of our separation in them for the first time, her own conflicts and desires battling her dedication to her chosen path in life. Her desire for me, frightening in it's intensity. Desires for me, not as a slave but as a partner, a friend, perhaps even a lover.

"You have suffered much for me Mistress, as I have for you," I said softly.

"I have," she replied." And I would do it again. You are a great part of my life Michael, more than any other man has been in a great while. Even in your search for a change in your life, you have been there for me when I needed you."

"It's just what I do Mistress. I serve you. And I love you."

She smiled for a brief instant before the stern look reappeared.

"Then tonight you will prove it again," she said taking her place at the table. "Serve me my dinner."

I bowed my head and intoned the words that burned in my heart at that moment.

"Yes Mistress."

I knelt beside her that night as she ate, thinking of my position to her at that time. A dog waiting for a scrap of food, a cat trying not to be noticed, yet still get the attention of it's Mistress. It was a pleasant feeling for me, one long missed.

Even with the attentions of others and other Mistresses, the feelings were never the same as when I knelt before Mistress Minx, my wife. My wife. Even if it was only on paper it still gave me the feelings I had when I was married to my beloved wife Denise. A feeling of security for the first time in many months.

"What are you thinking slave?" Mistress Minx said sharply.

"I was thinking how happy I am right now being here," I said.

"Tell me about it," she directed.

"I was thinking that even when I kneel before others, it's not the same as kneeling before you. I was thinking how much you make me feel like Denise did. That when I'm with you at these moments I feel secure."

She smiled at that.

"And that's all you're thinking about?"

"Yes Mistress," I replied.

"And you're not thinking of anything else?" she probed.

"No Mistress," I replied a bit mystified by her question.

"Good. I wouldn't want you getting above your station," she remarked turning her attention back to her dinner.

I wasn't quite sure what to make of that remark, so I let it go.

She finished her dinner and then poured some of the spaghetti into a bowl for me and allowed me to eat. Without utensils of course, so I wound up wearing more than a little of it in my beard to her vast amusement.

While I snuffled up the food like a pig, she retired to the bedroom but not without leaving me instructions to finish my meal and clean up the kitchen before kneeling before her living room chair, head down and eyes closed.

When I finished I did as I was told, and knelt before her empty chair and waited eyes closed, wondering what she had in store for me.

It seemed like hours before I sensed rather than heard her and then felt the tug of a hood over my head and then the sharp pull of a collar being fastened around my neck.

"Good boy," she crooned. "You did exactly what I told you to do. Now we’ll see how much you still trust me."

I heard the snap of a leash and was pulled to my feet and then she lead me through the house, warning me of the steps and corners. I felt a change in the air and realized she had led me outside into the backyard.

I breathed the cold night air and shivered slightly in the dampness as she continued to lead me steadily through the blackness of the night. I stumbled on the uneven turf and then the surface changed and smoothed.

"Give me your car keys slave," she ordered.

I fumbled them out of my pocket and after she took them from me I felt the cold steel of a set of handcuffs around my wrists.

"Much better now. I never know where those hands may go if I don’t keep them under lock and key," she teased.

I kept silent, not daring to speak. If she was in this kind of a mood, I could wind up with a clothespin on my tongue if I spoke without permission.

I heard the door of the car open and she shoved me forward sharply, causing me to tumble into the seat and slammed the door behind me.

"Comfy?" she asked sarcastically, starting the engine.

"Like I have a choice," I mumbled to myself.

At least I thought it was to myself, but she either heard me or sensed my reply to her question because she replied to it.

"No you don’t have a choice. And when we get to where we’re going, you’ll obey me as well."

I felt her drive us up hills and down hills, across railroad tracks and at one point what sounded like through a tunnel. She made random turns and at one point it felt like we were driving down Lombard Street.

Through it all she kept humming the same tune she had been humming that first night she had me in her power at the Rancho.

That tune still brought back the memories and fears of that night, a night where I didn’t know if I was going to live or die at her hands caged like a beast.

A final sharp turn and she stopped the car and turned off the engine.

The door opened and she pulled me out and pushed me up against a hard cold stone wall.

"Now slave, I want you to lower your pants and start masturbating yourself for me," she commanded.

I hesitated. I could hear traffic noise fairly close to where we were. I was afraid of being seen, afraid of not being able to perform for her on command.

Had she even done things like this to me before?

Yes.

Had she always protected me?

Yes.

I lowered my pants and started stroking myself as well as I could with the handcuffs, feeling the metal links swing back and forth on each stroke.

I felt the gentle tap of a riding crop on my balls between strokes and tried not to think of the cold that was shriveling them into me.

"Tell me how much you love me," she ordered.

"I love you as much as I love my wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Mistress. I’m honored that you would choose me as your husband even for a short time," I panted.

"And if I chose to keep you?’ she asked smacking me harder.

"I would never leave your side Mistress. You are my redemption, my resurrection from the living death I endured without her," I cried oblivious to any one who might hear me. Let them listen to my devotional to my Mistress, I didn’t care.

"I will consider your pleas as a merciful and loving Goddess," she said amused.

I felt myself starting to orgasm despite the cold and pain.

"Please Mistress, I need to cum," I pleaded.

"Not here. But then again a slut like you cums in alleys all the time. You enjoyed being Mistress Tamara’s whore didn’t you?" she charged.

"Yes. No. I don’t know. I did but I didn’t," I replied dazed by the pleasure and pain.

"You don’t want to be a street whore, you want to be kept and caged. Used by a Mistress when she wants it," she continued.

"I want to be your whore," I moaned. "I want to be caged by you, controlled by you, loved by you!"

"Stop playing with yourself," she snapped.

I released my cock and felt it start losing it’s stiffness until I felt fingers around it and heard the snap of a cock ring around the base of by cock.

"I don’t want you losing interest," she said slapping my semi erect organ and then pulling me along by it, my movement clumsy with my pants down around my ankles.

I stumbled up the steps she led me to and then I felt warm air as we entered a room that smelled of spices. It was a familiar scent but still nothing that stood out enough to tell me what it was.

"I want you to strip now," she said releasing my cock." Don’t worry about folding things this time. I just want you naked."

I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks with difficulty since I was still cuffed, but finally succeeded. I stepped out of my pants and underwear and stood with only my shirt on.

"I said I want you naked slave," she said irritated.

"Mistress, I can’t remove the shirt while cuffed," I replied timidly.

"You’re right of course. I’ll take care of that myself," she said after a moment’s consideration.

She tugged on the leash and led me forward for a short distance and then stopped me with a hand on my chest.

"Stand here, arms over your head," she instructed.

I raised my arms and felt her secure them above my head and then felt her hand across my ass.

"I’ve always enjoyed your ass. It’s such a nice spankable one," she teased with a gentle swat.

"Thank you Mistress," I replied, only to be rewarded with a vicious swat.

"I will tell you when I want you to speak," she reminded.

I nodded, my ass stinging from the swat across the cold flesh.

"Good," she said stroking the punished flesh before landing another blow across it.

I stood there helpless as she used her hand and the crop across me, and then felt the cooling touch of liquid on the heated flesh.

"Have to make sure you’re ready for more later," she said and then I felt her nails on my nipples, twisting and pinching them until I moaned despite my efforts to remain silent.

"Yes, show me your pain," she said intently. "I demand it."

I felt cold sharp steel on my flesh and then heard the ripping of cloth as she cut my shirt from me.

I heard the knife fall and then she twisted again until I moaned louder and then released them for an instant to replace her nails with the pain of her teeth biting them.

"Aggh!" I screamed as she attacked like a ravenous beast.

"Yes!" she said releasing her hold. "I want your blood this night my slave. I want to feast on your flesh."

I trembled in pain and fear at those words. The memories of the vampyres feasting on my blood in New Orleans flooded my mind and then was replaced by the image of my Mistress attacking them like a warrior Amazon of old, her standing over me and snarling with murderous fury at my attackers.

I sighed and relaxed into the pain, stopped fighting it and drifted into it, her love for me acting as a buoy.

"Yes my pet, I will always protect you, as you have protected me. Give me your feelings, your tears this night," she said softly as she once again bit me.

The night dissolved into sensations of pain and pleasure, the touch of fur, the shock of the cold sharp knife, the sensation of hot wax spattering against my chest and back, the comfort of her gentle touch against my skin.

Through it all she spoke of her pleasures and my desires, her demands and my duties.

And then to my shock she took my still erect cock and rubbed it against herself. I felt wetness on my cock causing it to jump from the sensation of her warm flesh.

"Yes you do arouse me Michael," she said releasing me. "Never forget that."

"Yes Mistress," I said reverently.

She released the cock ring and with a swift tug pulled the hood from my head revealing that we were standing in my bedroom, my hands attached to a hook that she had placed in the ceiling, unknown to me.

She lay down on the bed, her white skin in sharp contrast to the black satin sheets that now graced the bed, replacing the green cotton ones I normally used. She was wearing her thigh high boots and the corset I had purchased for her for her birthday, green silk with garters.

She touched herself and teased her own body, running her hands over her body and then gently stroking herself between her legs as I watched.

"Watch me Michael. See what you do to me," she said.

I watched helpless as she made love to herself, her fingers glistening with her own wetness in the flickering light, her breath becoming short panting gasps and then the sigh of her release and the scent of her womanhood drifting into the room mixed with the smell of candle wax.

Chapter 28 Sections 1 to 3

The Odd Couple
The Parent Trap
Bedtime for Bonzo