A D/s Fairy Tale 10"( MF FF F-dom fant )[6/7]

Chapter 10 - The Sub Who Loved Me

Someone was screaming - shattering the peace of the still,
predawn darkness!  Christiana came out of a troubled sleep
with the sounds of a soul keening in torment ringing in her
ears. 

And then she realized. . .

She was the one who was screaming.

All lingering remnants of sleep disappeared from her brain as
she came bolt upright.  She was no longer bound to the cross -
her arms and legs were free.  The gag was gone and she had
been laid down somewhere.  Completely disoriented, Chris
scanned her surroundings and was amazed to find that she was
in her own room and in her own bed.  She was dressed in her
favorite nightgown.  How had she gotten here?  How had she
gotten dressed?  How had Kayla and Lillian gotten her past
security in her unconscious state?

Kayla.  Lillian.

The mind pictures of her ordeal in Lillian's dungeon came
rushing back to her and her stomach roiled queasily.  Her
hands came up to grip the one inch silver rings Lillian had
soldered into her still bleeding nipples only to find. . .

Nothing.

No rings anywhere.   She pulled the nightgown down over her
breasts for a closer look.

No blood or scabs.  Not even a hole where she had seen, where
she had *felt* the needle slide slowly through her crinkled
nubs.  

Not sure what to believe, Chris moved her hands lower, one to
her belly, one to her mons.  They found the same nothing in
those places as she had on her breasts.

Thoroughly confused, Chris scrambled out of bed, fighting her
way out of the tangled and knotted bedding and rushed over to
her mirrors.  Stripping the nightshirt the rest of the way
off, she carefully examined her body for any signs of what had
been done to her.

Nothing.

She found nothing.   Well, not quite nothing.  Amazingly, she
found her little, lovingly groomed thatch of red pubic hair. 
It was still there, intact.  How was that possible?  Hell,
just about every one of her former subs had in one way or
another stripped her of that little emblem of personal pride. 
But, as her hands had told her instants before in her bed,
there was no evidence at all of yesterday's piercing.  Her
body was unmarked by needle, and thank God, unmarked by
tattoo.  Relief made her shiver uncontrollably and her knees
weak.  Slowly, Chris stumbled her way across the room to the
chairs in front of the french doors to await the sunrise, and
to think.

Why was she still unmarked?  What had happened after she had
blacked out?  Chris believed that Lillian would stop the
tattooing if a subject blacked before she had really even
marked her so that would explain what she was not tattooed,
but what about the piercings - they had been done and her hair
- it had been gone.

The only explanation that made any sense to her was that,
somehow, Adrian Luthor was behind all of it.  Maybe he simply
wanted her to face each new test with a clear slate, so that
each of her owners would be able to do anything with her.  It
was hard to scalp a hairless pussy, she mused.  As for the
piercings, well, they might inhibit other types of play. 
Several of her playmates liked nipple clamps and those were
not a good idea on still-healing nipples.

Chris sighed.  What ever Luthor's reasoning, the facts were
clear.  Nothing of the previous day's indignities were in
evidence on her body.  Come to think of it, each morning since
Luthor cast his spell had been as if the previous day had not
happened.  Hell, she'd woke up alone both mornings after going
to bed with Molly or Leon, and now this.  She'd assumed that
her bed mates had been taken away magically so that they could
not, by their continued presence, upset the next day's new
trials.  Maybe that had not been such a good assumption, but
she did not have any better idea what was going on.

God, but she was so tired.  She was definitely *not* bored,
but she was really worn out physically.

What would the sunrise bring, she wondered.  The last three
dawns had not been very auspicious and look how those days had
gone.  Looking out her window, she could see in the half light
before the dawn that the sky was mostly cloudy.  She sighed -
another day without a real sunrise - and put her head back
against the chair to wait.

She must have dozed off in her chair.  Dawn was peaking over
the skyline in the distance when she came back to
consciousness.  Stiff from her impromptu nap in the chair, she
stretched.  She still felt completely drained.  How in God's
name was she going to hold up through another day of atonement
overseen by a submissive with an axe to grind with her?  How
could she face yet another human who had given his or her self
over to Chris and to whom she had not fulfilled her
responsibilities?  Chris had no answer.  She simply knew she
had no other choice.

The clouds she had seen before dozing off were still up there,
blunting and defusing the sun's rays.  Chris had so hoped for
sunlight.  In her mind, she had somehow formed the notion that
a real sunrise might be the harbinger of her liberation. 
Clouds did not seem to be a particularly positive omen. 
Sadly, she started to stand.  If she was going to face . . .
whatever, she would do it on a full stomach.  She was
starving.

Just before she could turn away, something flashed at the very
edge of her field of vision, pulling her attention back to the
large windows.  It took her a moment to figure out exactly
what had caught her eye.  There, in the distance, gleaming
down on to the Prudential Tower was a single, radiant shaft of
sunlight.  Chris followed the beam up to the hole in the cloud
layer that had let the sun's rays shine through and then, she
saw it.  On the fringes of the hole in the clouds, a faint
burst of color - so faint and so short lived, Chris almost
missed it.  But she did not miss it, and she hugged the memory
to her tightly.

A rainbow wasn't a glorious fiery sunrise, but it was
something.  A rainbow brought with it the chance for a  pot of
gold, didn't it?  If you worked hard enough, surely there were
possibilities.  For the first time that morning, Christiana's
spirits brightened.  All she needed now was breakfast.  Bring
on your test, Mr. Luthor, she thought.

Breakfast had not tasted so good in months.  Chris had been
unable to find any of the pastries that Kayla had with her the
day before, but she found some bagels that she had bought days
earlier; even before her fateful meeting with Adrian Luthor. 
They had still been surprisingly fresh, and she had wolfed
down two of them slathered in cream cheese and strawberry jam.

As she ate, her mind replayed the past few days.  Chris was
surprised by the realization that not all her memories were
negative.  Certainly, the helpless acquiescence to Molly's
desires had not been much fun.  Maybe Leon had gone a little
far when he had explored those hidden, submissive urges Chris
had not ever before admitted she possessed.  Kayla's scene at
Lillian's place had been horrible, but still, in each case she
had learned something positive, had done something she was
going to want to do again.  

With Molly, Chris had learned to be a little more
understanding of her submissives needs in the scene.  Leon had
taken her into a world where she could submit and she had
tasted pleasure and joy in that.  Maybe it was not the high
that owning the power was, but it was still special and
something she would have to explore further.  He had also
taken away her fear of anal sex.  Her only regret was that
first time had not been with Eric.  She could have gifted him
with that virginity and it would have been so very special
between them.  As for Kayla, that mirror image hung fast in
her mind, that picture of her going down on Kayla, orally
worshiping her ebony ass.  She sighed quietly.  That was one
of the most erotic things Chris had ever experienced.

"Well," Chris thought, "some things are going to change".  A
lot of things, actually.  She would see to it just as soon as
she had her life back, so she could count on having the
continued freedom of action she would need to make things
right, again.

Her doorbell rang.  Chris was no longer surprised that someone
could get past security without her knowing it.  She accepted
that as easily and as completely as she now accepted that
whoever was ringing that bell was going to be her next owner. 
With only a little anxiety for what would come next, Chris
rose and started toward the door, only to suddenly trip and
nearly fall in her haste to get to the door.  "Strange," she
mused.  "I am usually more coordinated than that."  She looked
down at the floor and shook her head in amusement.  "There
isn't even anything down there for me to trip over except my
own feet."

She took a deep, cleansing breath as she undid the locks and
gripped the door handle.  She would not look out the peephole
this time.  Come what may.  Come who may, she decided.  She
swung the door open and simply stared in wonder at the man who
filled the door.

Angels probably looked like that, Chris reflected, so tall and
strong, and so beautifully golden.  

And she loved him.

Eric Bjornson stood quietly in the doorway, an expectant look
on his almost too handsome face.  Chris stepped aside and
invited "Won't you please come in?" He followed her in and
turned to her.  Chris closed the door behind her back and
watched him, waiting for the cold sensation that signaled the
loss of her will to him as her new owner.

For a long space of time, they simply stared at one another,
neither speaking.  Chris wondered if, in the shock of seeing
him, she had missed feeling the enchantment's chilly arrival. 
Well, she certainly knew what came next in any case.  Might as
well get on with it, she mused.  "Hello, Eric," she said in a
calm, controlled voice that belied the turmoil inside that
threatened her just finished breakfast.  God, but he was so
fine to look at - hell, he simply *was* fine, in every sense
of the word, and he had been hers.  Let him be hers again. 
Somehow.  "Eric, I am yours to command.  Please tell me what
you wish me to do." The words she had said four previous times
to four other people came out once more by rote, only this
time seemed different, somehow.

Then she realized.  This time, with this man - even if it was
Luthor's magic prompting her - Chris meant the words.  She
meant each and every syllable, because this was the way she
would make amends to the man she loved the most, to the man
she had hurt the worst.  The smile she wore on her face was
real, too.

Eric still said nothing, showed nothing of what he had felt
when she had offered herself to him.  Finally, he shook his
head.  "He said you would say that.  I don't know why you
would say them, or how he knew, but you did as he said you
would."

A cold chill went down Christiana's back.  The feeling was not
the same as what she felt when Luthor's spell kicked in; this
tasted of real fear. "Who told you that?  Who said I would say
that."

A grim smile creased his features.  "Adrian Luthor.  He is a
counselor I have been seeing since the last time I was here."
He hesitated and then moved on.  "I was. . . pretty messed up
when I left here.  I. . . ahhhh, well, I almost did something
really stupid."

He means he nearly committed suicide over me, Chris realized,
and he does not want to tell me that.  All right, she thought,
if he does not want me to know about that, I won't press until
he needs to tell me it all.

Her self pleased mood evaporated with his next words.  "I was
thinking about jumping off the Charles River Bridge, down by
Massachusetts General." He referred to the large hospital in
the eastern part of Boston along the river.  "Adrian found me
and stopped me.  He is an amazing man with the most incredible
capacity for helping you clean up your thinking." I'll drink
to that, Chris thought sardonically.  "It was stupid of me.  I
knew, or at least I should have known, you did not mean it. 
You get into that "I am Domina, Hear Me Snarl" mode of yours,
and you will do almost anything to get a reaction." His voice
broke and he sat down heavily on the nearest chair.  Chris
wanted to run to him, wanted to comfort him, but some force
beyond her understanding held her back.  Somehow, she knew,
simply *knew* that Eric *needed* to finish speaking his piece. 
And she needed to let him.

"It was the emotion of the moment, Chris.  You are good at
ripping those out of me.  I never thought of myself as a
submissive personality before I met you.  For the most part, I
still don't, but with you, there is just some part of me that
opens up to that facet of you.  Right then, I was open,
vulnerable, and you hit me with not loving me, not ever being
able to love me.  My defenses were down and I shattered.  All
I wanted was to end the pain." He gave her a wan grin, "Pretty
stupid.  What is they say?  Suicide is a permanent solution to
a temporary problem?" Chris nodded weakly.  She did not want
to be temporary with this man.  How could she have been so
blind about her own feelings.

Eric seemed to steel himself against the emotional upheaval
and looked back at Chris.  "Now, do you mind telling me what
the hell that "I am at your command" crap was all about?  You
don't switch.  You absolutely refused to switch with me or
anyone else.  You would not even let me tease you into getting
across my knees for a mock spanking on your last birthday.  I
want the truth, Christiana." His tone was stern.  

This was the strong, confident executive she had first been
fascinated with.  A man who, shortly after they had met, had
left her company rather than have professional image and
conflict of interest allegations come between them.  Slowly,
she told him the full story.  Of Luthor and his power, and of
her experiences with Molly and Leon and Kayla.  "So, there it
is.  His power makes me yours, but there is one thing I am
sure of, Eric." her eyes took on an appeal.  "You have not
given me any real orders yet, but you are wrong.  I have
learned much in the past few days.  I would switch with you
now - sometimes" she hastened to amend, "because parts of what
I did with my other owners felt good, felt right.  And I trust
you to make what we do together right and good, as well."

Awe showed from his face at her words.  "And I can order you
to do anything?  Order you to *be* anything?" she nodded
happily, and realized that she *was* happy.  It was not
looking like she was and being unhappy, as it had often been
with the other three.  This was Eric and he would be good to
her.

He looked at her with stark longing in his eyes, and then,
very softly asked "And if I ordered you to start loving me?"
The wistful plea in his voice gave her hope.

She hesitated, not knowing what to say.  That momentarily
stunned her, because oddly, she felt no compulsion to answer
him, and no compulsion to give him the answer he seemed to
want.  With Molly and with Leon, she had answered even
unspoken orders, responding to their mental commands as
quickly and as completely as if they had been shouted at her. 
A smile bloomed on her face as an idea glimmered into focus. 
Maybe that was it.  "I don't think you can order me to do
that, Eric." She was delighted to see his face fall - he *did*
love her.  "Because I can't start what I already do, and I do
love you.  Quite hopelessly, in fact."

She had never seen him move so quickly.  One moment he was
staring at her from across the room and the next, she was in
his arms being devoured.  "Jesus," he breathed against her
mouth, "What the hell took you so long?"

Gently, she pushed herself back.  "Stupidity.  Pride.  Just
plain dumb, mostly.  No really good answer, my love, but I am
so glad to be able to say it now.  I love you."

"God, and I do love you, too."

Chris went still in his arms.  "Can you ever forgive me, my
love?" she asked in a very small voice.

"I already have, and even if I hadn't, knowing you love me and
that you are willing to admit it would have been enough for me
to forgive you anything."

Then, I can begin to forgive myself, Chris thought with
relief.

The cold, tingling burn washed over her body again.  What was
happening, her mind screamed.  Was Eric changing her,
transforming her?  Frightened of who or what she might see,
she still turned to look in the mirror.

She saw herself, being thoroughly cuddled and kissed by the
man she had fallen in love with.  

A hint of memory, a flash of deja vu tickled at her, and then
suddenly became clear.  Adrian's words when he had woven his
enchantment about her.... "You will be free of this curse when
you have fallen irrevocably in love with your current owner
and you have forgiven yourself." And she was in love.  And she
had forgiven herself because Eric had forgiven her.

She was free of the spell, but not of the man.  She was his,
and just as importantly, he was hers.  "You are going to marry
me, you know." he whispered into the ear he was gently
nibbling.

"Oh.  Am I?" she arched into him, pressed herself tighter to
him. 

"Yep." his smile was in his voice.  "I can almost guarantee
it." he scooped her up into his arms and headed for her
bedroom.  "But if you want to negotiate terms, I am ready,
willing and able."

She nipped at the cleft of his chin, enjoying the ride.  "I'll
have you know that I am an *excellent* negotiator, sir.  Don't
think you are going to get everything your own way.  I am
still the domina in this pairing, too."

"As long as I have you, everything else will work out, and the
domina is just fine with me, too.  As long as I get to play
the top once in awhile.  I have some really great ideas I have
always wanted to do with you."

She shivered and then kissed him.  "Sounds like a deal to me,
Bjornson.  Sounds like a deal.  When?"

He dropped her onto the bed and followed her down.  "Soon." he
said, "really soon, but not until after you and I finish these
... Ahhh .." he momentarily lost his train of thought when
Chris reached up to grip the bulge in his trousers.  "More
delicate and personal negotiations." He pulled off her
nightgown and began his very unique and thrilling negotiation.