Domination Games

The Cabal - An Introduction

From the Random House Webster's Dictionary:

cabal (ka-bal'), n.  1. a small group of secret plotters.  
2. the secret plots or schemes of such a group.

The Cabal is a very secret, very selective and highly
specialized social organization.  Cabal memberships are
tendered only to people of like interest who come highly
recommended by active members.  Prospective members are then
thoroughly vetted and must be approved by each of three other
active members who are experienced at checking out initiates. 
Complete physical examinations and medical record reviews are
required of each candidate to prevent the slightest safety or
health hazard to the other members.  

Candidates who pass these in-depth reviews are allowed to take
the Cabal "entrance examinations".  These exams test knowledge
of current events, social graces, as well as testing out
certain practical skills.  Candidates must acquit themselves
well and present themselves positively, regardless of
situation, be it polite conversation or other types of
interactions.  Upon passing these tests, candidates are given
the opportunity to take the final initiation.  Initiation is
the ultimate test of a candidate's suitability for membership. 

Membership in the Cabal is prized among those who know of its
existence because it provides safe contacts who share a common
interest and it also provides safe places in which to share
that common interest.  

The Cabal exists to bring together true devotees of the D/S,
B&D and S&M lifestyles.  Mistresses and slaves, masters and
switches all find acceptance, companionship and safety, both
to person and to reputation, in the select community that is,
the Cabal.  In particular, the Cabal is dedicated to the more
sexual aspects of the lifestyles.  Candidates and members are
expected to enjoy and excel at all aspects of sexual play. 
Indeed, one purpose of the initiation process is to ensure
that prospective members can enjoy and be enjoyed within that
context.  Candidates who are primarily into pain, dealing or
receiving, or who do not consider sex and orgasm to be a
regular and vital part of a scene's play are ordinarily weeded
out quickly.  Our story is about one candidate who had avoided
being weeded out.

A unique aspect of the Cabal Charter Rules is that members
must maintain and periodically demonstrate proficiency at both
sides of top/bottom scene equation.  New members can choose to
be primarily dominant or primarily submissive once they
achieve full membership, but the vetting process tests their
aptitude for both roles.  To be accepted for membership,
initiates must be skilled and able to carry off a successful
scene in either role, to the satisfaction of the other player
or players in the scene. 

Submissives who can not dominate on occasion can be boring and
dominants who do not taste the emotion felt by a bottom from
time to time may lose touch with the caring sensitivity the
Cabal Charter mandates.  Therefore, all members are required
to participate in at least one scene as the dominant player
and one scene as the submissive player every year to maintain
their membership.  This requirement ensures that every member
respects and understands the effects each role has on the
other participants in a session. 

Annual switch scenes for members who exclusively or almost
exclusively play only top or only bottom, are often open
demonstrations for the rest of the membership.  Committed
submissives acting in a dominant role have rare insight into
the mind of a bottom.  Masters and Mistresses are always eager
to learn new ways to torment and titillate their favorite
slaves.   Who would know better than a submissive what really
reaches the soul of a bottom in a scene?   

Normally dominant members, submitting as a bottom, are often
stoic in the extreme.  Such behavior, although it is not
grounds for the individual to repeat the required session,
does not achieve the desired goal of keeping the requalifying
dominant in touch with the feelings of the bottom.  The top
assigned to dominate the testee must prepare the session
carefully and often must work particularly hard to reach into
the hidden psyche of the testee.  Assigned dominants who fail
to break through that reserve lose face and reputation among
the other members, particularly among the bottoms.  Therefore,
the sessions in which regular tops submit for their annual
qualifications are among the most intense, demanding and
imaginative scenes that the membership is likely to see.   

The only limitation the Charter imposes for these annual
switch sessions, other than that the safety of all involved is
never compromised, is that committed couples are never forced
to "switch" roles for the amusement of the membership.  Nor
are they asked to participate in their other half's scene.  As
indicated earlier, the switch sessions can be uniquely intense
and emotional.  Some buried anger or hurt might surface during
the session and those aspects of even semi-public
relationships are simply too private to parade for outside
eyes.  The Cabal's doctrine of safety includes the safety of
true lovers' privacy.  The other players in mandatory switch
sessions are selected by either blind draw from volunteers who
want to scene with that member or by special request from the
switching member with the consent of the Cabal's officers.

The Spring Games - Opening Ceremonies

The spring air was warm, fortunately for the ten women
standing rigidly at attention in the buff on the floor of the
open air arena.  Seated around the arena on the ground and on
benches were the various dominants and submissives who were
here to view the upcoming spectacle.  

It was the first weekend retreat of the Cabal since before
winter and the turnout at the secluded mountain estate, owned
by one of the wealthier members, was heavy.  Per custom, each
member had declared themselves upon arrival at the gate.  They
could call themselves dominant, submissive or switchable,
although the latter was usually frowned upon for members
arriving stag.  Preferably, switches arrived at least pairs. 
If the numbers of dominants and submissives were too uneven,
then the single switches were the first ones asked to change. 
Those asked to change were given preferred treatment at a
future retreat.

Today, there was a good mix of members playing top and bottom
for the weekend, so the folks looking to play the field and to
"fill in" in an ongoing scene had not been asked to declare
themselves.  There were no mandatory scenes or initiations
scheduled for this meeting, so the fun would be less
structured and a little less fierce, except for the games.  Or
so most members thought.  Incorrectly.

The slave girls who stood at attention, their skin glistening
in the sunshine from sweat and sun screen, were part of the
entertainment.  Today, they would compete in a series of tests
for the opportunity to play the 'big game' Sunday afternoon,
to win the opportunity to play for the special prize that
would be awarded to the ultimate victor.  In the past, these
prizes often included leather ware, special bondage gear or
other toys, but always, the winner was given a Cabal-style get
away weekend with the Cabal member of their choice, in the
role of their choice.  Only two of the ten women would compete
in the 'big game' the next afternoon.  The other eight women
would 'pay' for their failure by being the 'demonstration
dummies' for tonight's entertainments and exhibitions.  The
earlier a girl was eliminated, the more strenuous and
demanding the scene was promised for her that night.

The women were all beautiful, well conditioned and sleek. 
Many long time members were surprised to see Mistress Gemma
among the contestants.  The tall, elegant black woman with the
Oxford English accent was an avid and dedicated top.  Her
presence among these women, all but two of whom would face a
night and day of submission and discipline, was completely
unexpected.  To the best any of the members at the arena could
recall, Gemma bottomed out once a year and that was it.  In
fact, she had embarrassed the last two tops to work her by not
breaking her reserve during the session.  She had apparently
not even orgasmed.

The explanation for this surprise was known only to Gemma and
three other people.  Mistress Rayna, a career dominant and a
long time member of the Cabal, her primary slave, Stefan, and
Gemma's favorite slave, Alex.  At the last meeting, the two
Mistresses had traded slaves and made a bet about which of
them could break the training of the other's slave first.  The
loser had to pay a forfeit of the winner's choosing.  Gemma
had lost, and it had been her own fault.  Alex had been ill at
the time.  She had either not listened to him or had not been
sensitive to his condition.  He had been in no condition to
take what Rayna had dished out, even though, as he told her
later, Rayna was not nearly as skilled as HIS Mistress.  She
had been furious with herself for putting him in that
position, for not taking greater care of someone who obviously
loved her.  She planned to win this competition for herself
and for Alex.  Then, she'd see about evening up the score. 
Rayna could not have missed that Alex was not well and Rayna
should have terminated the scene.  That she did not stop, and
then had demanded payment of the forfeit further infuriated
Gemma.

The other women were a mixed bag of experience and skill. 
Five of the women were new members attending their first
retreat since initiation.  They were the unknowns in the
puzzle.  Gemma did not think they were ready for what the
games would require.  Of the other four, Gemma had been served
by two of the remaining four women and knew their strengths
and, more importantly, their weaknesses.  She could handle
them.  The other two were longtime members who normally
submitted only to their beloved Masters.  They were not
naturally submissive, otherwise, and would not surrender
easily.  The highly public and humiliating penalties typically
imposed on the losers by the Entertainment Mistress, while
highly erotic to most submissives, would spur these two to
greater efforts to avoid them.  These women were entered to
win the prize for their Masters.  They were both previous
winners of the games and would be her principle competition.

The Master of Ceremonies called the games to order.  He stood
between the women and the audience, and welcoming all to the
games.  The games, he explained, were loosely patterned on the
Olympic Games, and would combine physical ability and sexual
ability in the competitions.  The games also included as many
aspects of bondage, dominance, submission and discipline that
the organizers could work in.  While he spoke, male slaves,
under the close supervision of a senior Mistress, put ten
short, three legged stools in a large circle around the
periphery of the arena playing field.  The circle was about
fifty feet in diameter when the Mistress in Charge herded the
setup slaves off the stage.  When the arena was clear of male
slaves, the Master announced the opening ceremonies and first
competition of the Spring Games.

The women slaves were circled in center of the arena.  Each
woman was given a syringe filled with a heated lubricant. 
"Each contestant will please prepare the asshole of the slave
in front of her.  You may use as much or as little as you
please."  The woman in front of Gemma was a very petite blond
that Gemma had never met before.  She could not have made five
feet tall if she stood on tip-toe.  One of the new ones, Gemma
thought.  Gemma knew what was coming and decided to be
generous.  This one would not be in the competition very long. 
She popped the nozzle of the syringe into the girl, drawing a
surprised shriek, then emptied the entire syringe into and
around her anus.   The slave behind Gemma was not nearly as
accommodating.  Gemma felt the syringe slide between her
cheeks and the barest dab of the lubricant squeezed out and
none of it even near her asshole.  Gemma kept her cheeks
together to try and get the maximum benefit of it for what was
to come.

The women were ordered to the circle of stools, each woman
standing at one stool.  The seats were no more than eighteen
inches off the ground.  The seats were more like bicycle
saddles than chairs, very slender and intended to allow a
woman's buttocks to slide down on either side of the seating
surface as she lowered onto it.  In the center of each saddle,
was a anal probe of one type or another.  Butt plugs of
various lengths and widths adorned some while more ordinary
shaped dildoes were attached to others.  The sizes of the
dildoes varied, too, from the merest "thumb-sized" tickler to
a huge, thick implement that would challenge many women's
fist, let alone their backsides.  The textures varied from
smooth to knobby to little spines intended to irritate going
in, going out and while inserted.

The rules of the Opening Procession were similar to those for
Musical Chairs.  The slaves would jog around the perimeter
while the processional music played.  When it stopped, they
would have to seat themselves, fully, on the stool nearest
them.  Disputes over who got any specific stool would be dealt
with (firmly!) by the Mistress in Charge.  Failure to seat the
implement fully within 2 minutes of the music stopping
disqualified the contestant.  Gemma looked carefully for the
layout of the probes.  She wanted to get a true butt plug. 
Not because she particularly liked the things up her ass, but
because she knew from past experience what often followed the
procession.  She specifically wanted to avoid the huge rubber
dick and the small thumb plug.

The music started and the women started off at a quick jog. 
Gemma was a slender woman, and her curves were sleek rather
than rounded.  When she was running was one of the times Gemma
did not regret that she was not just a little more gifted. 
Her small, high breasts did not bounce uncomfortably when she
ran as some of the other women's did as they moved around the
circle.  The music stopped suddenly and Gemma made a last
second dash to the nearest butt plug.  Unfortunately, it was
the biggest of that type of toy in use today, but she knew she
had to get it.  Her bottom's lubrication was almost gone,
dissolved in the sweat she had worked up in the afternoon sun,
but she settled herself quickly into a deep, wide legged
ballet stance over the stool, dropped down until she felt the
tip slide between her buttocks and then shifted her body to
align the plug.  Taking a deep breath, she relaxed and
permitted herself to drop her weight onto the probe.  Halfway
down, she screamed her anger and pain; the lubricant was gone
and she still had the widest part to seat.  Other women
answered her as other unlucky contestants worked their bottoms
onto the saddles.  Swallowing her pain, she forced herself
down again, this time until she felt the bulb of the plug
enter and her ass start to close over the narrower part.  She
sighed as she felt the saddle touch her butt.

Blondie was also seated.  She looked none the worse for wear. 
The bitch who had not properly lubricated her, one of the
previous winners, was also seated.  Gemma had passed up the 6
inch, life-like fake cock that bitch had stuffed up her guts
to get the plug.  One of the new members had gotten the king
dong and was not getting anywhere with it.  She sat atop the
tip of it, trying to force it in, but had only succeeded in
getting the head inserted when the timer sounded.  She was
handcuffed and lead away by the Mistress in Charge to await
the evening's festivities.  The others were told to remain
seated for their next instructions.

Memories 1

Gemma Thomas sat on the little stool as the girl who failed to
get a dildo up her butt was lead away.  She concentrated on
the deep breathing exercises she instructed her slaves to use
so that their muscles would relax.  She sincerely wished she
had not gotten the plug with the two and a half inch bulb. 
The staff male slaves were running about with sports drink for
the remaining contestants to prevent dehydration.  Her eyes
slipped to the audience and found Alex, her Master for this
hellish weekend, seated among the other assembled members
watching the games.  All the players were required to have an
"owner" for the weekend.  The most significant reason was to
call a halt to the activities for the protection of their
slave.  Slaves were as competitive as anyone.  Since there
were only two overseers for the games, the slaves might hurt
themselves if no one else watched over them continuously. 
Alex had agreed to serve in this capacity for her.  Alex was
always ready when she needed or wanted him.

Her mind flew back to that day almost two years ago when she
had first met Alex Marino.  In her day life, Dr. Gemma Thomas,
PhD, teaches physical therapy at a large Midwestern
university.  One of her students had just come into her office
to consult with her on a case.  The girl was overseeing the
therapy exercises of a young male student with a very serious
knee injury.  That student had been Alex Marino.

Gemma had arrived at university college after earning her
doctoral degree in England.  It was while attending medical
university that she discovered S&M and female domination as a
lifestyle.  The talent, determination and implacable
forcefulness that bullied and drove her patients back to
health found full expression in a D/S scene with a male slave
at her feet and a whip, strap or paddle in her hand.  After
finishing her post doctoral work, she had accepted the
position as a teacher and clinic director at the college where
she still worked.  Over the next seven years, she had become
tenured and was now well positioned for full professorship in
the next year or two.

Alex Marino was a college wrestler who had left his right leg
behind when the rest of him had tried to move.  The leg all
but parted at the knee.  The prognosis for recovery was poor. 
The referring doctor's report indicated that only with the
greatest force of will and commitment to therapy on Alex's
part was there any chance of him walking normally again, let
alone ever being physically active again.  The report went on
to say that the knee would never be strong enough to tolerate
the stresses of competitive wrestling again.  The only
dissenting opinion was given by Alex.  No one had convinced
him.  The student therapist was concerned, not because Alex
wasn't doing the exercises, but because he would not stop
doing them.

Gemma observed the next appointment between the wrestler and
her student.  After reading the doctor's report and seeing the
x-rays of the knee, she was amazed to find the young man's
recovery was so much further along, physically, than the pain
of his injury should have permitted.  Alex was a striking
young man, Gemma had noted.  Not tall, he stood a mere five
feet seven inches tall.  Gemma was four inches taller than
that in her stocking feet.  In her every day heels, she topped
him by more than seven inches; in her full battle, bitch
goddess regalia, she would top him by ten inches, easily.  

With the exception of his injured leg, he had the lithe,
compact musculature and physical coordination demanded by his
sport.  Determination and strength of will seemed to hum in
the air about him.  Gemma knew that he would be a formidable
opponent on the mat.  His Italian ancestors must have come
from Northern Italy since he was blond and blue eyed.  His
face showed strength and would age well, Gemma observed.  It
would have character rather than pretty boy good looks.  

Gemma took over the case and planned to oversee Alex's
remaining therapy personally.  She knew her student did not
have the experience to prevent Alex from seriously re-injuring
himself overdoing his exercises.  Her other reason was far
less professional.  The ability to challenge pain, to overcome
it, to take that next step, knowing that it would hurt, but
recognizing the need for that pain and embracing it,
fascinated Gemma.  It was, she thought, the most basic and
essential of human victories.  To be part of that triumph, to
be in control of that experience challenged and excited her. 
She had learned and accepted this quirk in her makeup when she
first started to enjoy the truly difficult therapy case.  It
was this aspect of her personality that had come to full
flower with the emergence of the powerful dominant, Mistress
Gemma.  

This young man's tolerance for pain, his perseverance stirred
her.  She wanted to oversee his pain, direct his pain, control
his pain.  She wanted to control him.  She wanted him, wanted
to own him and she would have him.  In every way, she and Alex
were a study in contrasts.  He was in his early twenties,
fair, white, relatively short for a man and was confronted
with pain.  She was thirty one years old, black, exceedingly
tall for a woman and was a provider of controlled pain on
request in both of her callings.  He seemed to challenge
everything she was or saw herself to be and he did not even
know it - yet.  She would oversee his treatment and, before he
realized it, she would be overseeing his young ass as her whip
played its song of challenge just for him.  She had plenty of
time while she supervised his efforts to regain the use of his
leg and she would use it all.   But before they were done, he
would belong to her, abjectly and completely.

One thing about that first meeting, however, had surprised
Gemma.  When her student introduced her to Alex and told him
that Gemma was to replace her as his therapist, his reaction
had not been at all what she expected.  Most Caucasian men she
had met since arriving in this country, especially young men,
nearly always did at least a double take when they first met
her.  She was a physically and personally imposing black woman
whose very bearing dared men to test her.  Few did when she
pinned them eye to eye with 'the look'.  Alex had merely
shaken her hand firmly, but not painfully as some men did in
reaction to her own challenge, and given her a weary smile. 
"Are you tough with your patients?"  he had asked her after
the pleasantries were dealt with.

"The very toughest."  She had assured him, looking him
directly in the eyes.

He met her gaze squarely and steadily, holding it with his
own. She could see his mind working and assessing.  "Good. 
Tomorrow, then?  Same time?"  She agreed and watched him
leave, walking on crutches that he should not have been ready
to use.  This one was a challenge, indeed.  He'd walk.  He'd
run.  She guaranteed it to him and to herself.  She wanted
this one at the height of his powers when he gave himself over
to her.  He was going to submit his most essential self to
her.  A man that strong while that young would be the
challenge and the triumph of a lifetime.

The Master of Ceremonies was moving back to the podium where
the announcing equipment had been installed.  His movement
past her had brought her back from the quiet darkness of her
memories.  Now Gemma would find out if she had made the
correct decision in forcing that infernal plug up her ass. 
She rarely played anal games so she was almost virginally
tight and the damned thing hurt.  The Master signaled for
attention from the crowd.  Normally, the slave contestants
would have come to attention or assumed their position of
submission when a Master passed or was about to address them. 
In this case, the Mistress in Charge had told each of them to
remain on their stools, with their asses fully packed, until
specifically directed by the Master.
