Their Tale

Love

The stiff feeling of my body as I woke on the floor brings me back to where I am. My eyes open to the sight of ink black stilettoes with a red sole. Embracing the stiffness of my body as it woke from the ground, I bring myself of my side and to a position on my knees, my head dropped in respect in wait of her words "Good morning Angel." Her greeting though cold, more comforting than most reserved.

"Good morning Mistress." I respond in respect with my hands finding their way behind my back. I feel like chill of my bare chest from the room when a hand comes forth to my cheek until it brings me up from under my chin with a single finger. My head rises to look at Mistress Diane "You will get ready and dressed, your suit will be placed on the bed after your shower. Breakfast will be served in twenty minutes." I gather my given information and nod at her words "Thank you Mistress."

Taking two steps back she lets her hands lay beside her "You may rise, fold the blanket and place it and the pillow on the bed before doing as instructed." Her finale words before leaving the room with the sound of heels knocking on the heavy tiled floors fading.

With focused time I fold the relatively thick blanket before placing it on the made bed with the pillow laid on the top of it before I shower. My mind in wonder of what Evita and Celeste must be doing. If I am right, they are showring just as I am, together in comfort of each other trying to get through this with each other's support. Support from what I put them through. The shower of water brings me back to where I was making me rush to make time. As said, I find a suit on the now made bed.

Once dressed I find myself looking at the body length mirror as I fix the tie that wrapped itself around my neck. I was dressed in an outfit of instant power in the eyes of those who took my stature in. One would look at me with a want to comply with my words and demands that I made their purpose. With the last fix of my outfit I walk out of the room to the dining area on the floor below this one.

Once there I see the usual large spread of breakfast. Seats being filled with destines, submissive, dominants and superiors collecting themselves in their seats.

Four superiors sat at the corners of the table as usual in representation of their role as the stability of the table. If unbalanced the entire table leans along, falls with them.

Dominants found themselves seated in seats in the chairs between the superiors, each one dressed in code of the house. Clean, black and white with the pin of the house on the right breast. Their role to was not just to the table that they sat by, but it was to the balance of those who knelt beside them.

Their submissive and destines. Their roles were limitless yet bound to those who they found strength and a bond with by kneeling by their sides.

The table fills with those who build the house of Peony, each seated and knelt when the final seat is pulled out. The head of the table, Mistress Diane stands behind her chair in wait. My hands folding behind my body, each step soft I stop when I am on the right side of Mistress Diane.

Each member of the table rises from their seats, hands beside them as dominants and woven together as superiors and those knelt risen with their hands behind their backs "You may fall back." She grants letting those who sit and knell do so. I do the same and fall to my knees beside my dominant.

I may dress in a suit of dominance unlike the submissive who were clothed in sheer gowns, blouses and pants but just as them this was picked for me. I was just as much a submissive in a three piece as I was nude.

Breakfast as it does go on with the brief of the house's day and activities, many of them linked to the houses medical program and facilities for lessons. The House of Peony, the medical and rehabilitation branch of New York.

As done submissive and destines fed by their dominants and superiors from their plate. My attention in the talks of the table as should be until half an hour has passed and breakfast is dismissed by Mistress. Destines and submissive rise to carry the tables contents until with the smell of what was breakfast the only signature of the breakfast just had. Yet like the days since I got here, I knell beside Mistress until the room cleared permanently.

Once done she keeps her eyes forward, not one glance at me "Do you remember why you left?" I don't dare look to her as I answer "Yes I do." At one point I was sure I would regret it. Leaving what I had spent years becoming in the name of the Houses and place larger than myself, but then I saw her and then I tasted her, touched her and made her scream and suddenly I knew it made the choice didn't seem so wrong.

"Why did you leave?" The answer was simple "I left for submission bound by affection. Not by purpose." With a slow yet rough push the chair pushed out from the table. Slowly she turns it to me so that she is facing me, the side of my eye catching a scrunch in her brow "I must have failed as a Mistress if you think a dominant does not link themselves emotionally to a submissive. It is human nature."

With known audacity I turn to face her with a simple response to her statement "You once said, even power has its weakness and for us all it is a different downfall. Well mine is love." Loving Celeste, loving Evita. It was my synaide pill and I would take it with every meal if it meant it was what made me worthy of their submission. Their submission by choice was my domination by gift "Do not act like the Houses have not accepted permanent submissive." That was true, but there was more to the thought of permanent submission in the eye of the house, and love was not in the terms "Do they know what submission and domination you studied under in this house?"

The question brought back an old feeling. One I had been losing the familiarity of through confessions under Mistress Diane. The acidic bile of the lies I could tell, along with the burn of the truth in my throat "No, to them I became a soft Master." A heavy sigh of what I can only guess as surprise and defeat brushed in the air "Look up at me boy."

Doing so I meet the scowl I was fonder of before a punishment of shame and disobedience "Why did you decide to became a soft Master?" By instruction I keep my head raised to hers but in reality, I wanted to drop my head when I answered the truth of why I left what got me through a lack of direction in the world and family as I came to grips with losing mine.

"I want their laughs, smiles, joys and dreams, but I also want to hear them beg, scream, see tears run down the cheek in loss of breath, I want their pain. I know what degree I want that pain; I just don't know if they can give me their dreams if my desire resembles a nightmare to those outside this Houses. I won't break them."

With the truth in the open I begin to ask myself what if questions, but even I know that is useless when choices have already been made. I was left with the because of and I was responsible for them all "You did so anyway. Stand boy." I am careful in my rise allowing the pain in my legs to rush out from the circulation. Mistress does the same when she slowly places the chair where it belongs before turning back to me. Once again, unreadable until she speaks "You may love them, but they don't love you. They love the man you give them to love. In all honesty, they have no idea who you are Angel. You never gave them the chance, voice and ability too."

She was right, and more than that I was wrong.

Love was not my weakness. I was.