The Master Vocalist

Freedom of a different kind

October 2005...Still Not Getting Any Tour

"We have signing now.  So, just smile and be polite."

I smiled up at Pierre, who had his arm wrapped firmly around my waist, and nodded obediently.  He steered me out the door and I felt a surge of excitement at the sight of all the fans screaming and yelling to the guys.  I glanced up at Pierre; he took everything in his stride. 

Keeping a possessive hold on me he moved through the crowd nodding and smiling, taking gifts that were passed to him and signing everything from album covers to items of clothing.  I could see the girls looking at me with either jealousy or happiness shining from their eyes. 

One fan smiled warmly at me and said, "You're lucky to have such a sweet boyfriend."

I blushed softly at that and glanced up at Pierre who kissed me lightly on the lips.  Boyfriend...yes...but he's still my Master as well...Perhaps I should explain that particular thought.

Things changed since I'd been returned to Pierre.  One of them was the definitions of the terms slave and submissive.  When I'd first become Pierre's sub...the two terms meant exactly the same thing.  Submissive was just a softer, kinder way of labelling a slave.  Now though after a lot of legal proceedings and a lot of pressure from The Master and from Pierre the laws had been changed along with the definitions. 

A slave...was just that...chattel...property...to be looked down upon and used.  A Submissive...was not a thing...or seen as property, it was now seen as a way of life.  It was a characteristic of a relationship.  Of course, obedience to one's Master was still of utmost importance, but no longer was maltreatment and cruelty for its own sake tolerated, in fact it was illegal.  Of course pain could be inflicted upon a sub for punishment but only if it caused no permanent damage, physical and/or emotional. 

Pierre still got angry with me at times and when he did punish me for it I always knew that I deserved it.  We loved each other though and that is the pivotal factor of the Master/submissive relationship...love.  A slave is never loved...a submissive is.  I was brought out of my thoughts by Pierre pinching me lightly in the side, enough to gain my attention.

"Pay attention, Sweet Pea..." his tone was not stern but it held a quality I knew not to ignore. 

I blinked and smiled noticing the official photographer for that show standing in front of us wanting to take a few shots.  We posed for a few and then Pierre and the others signed a few more autographs; then we headed back to the backstage dressing room. 

Pierre collapsed on the sofa, which had half of David's gear strewn across it, and pulled me down on his lap.  I felt his penis harden through the cloth of his jeans.  Somebody's a little excited tonight...I knew he would want me again...like every other night.  I felt him kiss the back of my neck softly. 

"Get a room will you." Jeff laughed. 

My Master flipped him off but then picked me up making me wrap my legs around his waist.  I leaned my head on his shoulder as he carried me from the dressing room down the corridor and out to the tour bus.  He carried me onto the bus and to the back room.  He pushed the door shut with his foot and set me down on the spare bed and then stripped his black Role Model T-shirt off and tossed it aside. 

I sat silently waiting my feet pulled up underneath me.  I could see the outline of the bulge in his jeans and I watched as he rubbed himself slightly.  He quirked an eyebrow up at me.  Then he slid his belt off and let his jeans drop to the floor.  My breath quickened as I watched him from my position on the bed.  I had to wait for him to come to me, which was the way he always wanted it to be.  In bed...was where he truly became my Master.