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From: El Sol <munster@eden.rutgers.edu>
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Subject: {ASSM} 'A Master's Ring' by ElSol (5/?)
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Date: Sun, 29 Feb 2004 17:10:05 -0500
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ElSol
<1st attachment, "Ring5.txt" begin>
Chapter 5
I woke up when Melisa climbed over me to get out of bed.
Sunlight was beginning to stream through the window. I turned to
look at my alarm clock; it was 6:30 am. I turned to watch Melisa
walk over to the closet naked.
Watching Melisa do anything naked was enjoyable. I had thoughts
about insisting she do homework naked in my room when she was my
First Sibling.
She looked back, smiling, as she grabbed my towel and wrapped
it around herself. She walked back, and leaned against the bed. I
did not bother to look if my roommate was awake and watching. I
already figured out that Melisa wanted him to see us together. It
was not quite trumpeting our relationship change around campus,
but it was fairly close.
"I'm going to take a shower and get dressed," she told me. "You
should start getting ready, too."
"Okay," I replied. "Should I wear anything special?"
"Casual," she said as she gathered up her clothes from last
night. "I don't know how long the interviews will take so you
need to be comfortable."
She gave me a kiss on the cheek and ran her hand down my chest
to the edge of my underwear. She smiled at me and walked out of
the room. She lived in the building so I did not think anything
of her walking around mostly naked.
I stretched my arms over my head and yawned trying to clear the
cobwebs and sexual frustration. The three Siblings had me surfing
a large wave of desire.
It was uncomfortable, but not unpleasant.
I got out of the bed, and walked over to the closet. I pulled a
towel off the top rack. I chose a clean set of jeans and tan
summer shirt. Melisa's sorting job made it easier. She had even
made a pile at the bottom of my closet that I was pretty sure was
the things she did thought I should never wear again. I tossed my
clothes on the bed, and went to my drawer set. I pulled out clean
underwear throwing them on the bed along with the rest of the
stuff.
I made the shower extremely cold; uncomfortable enough to wake
me up and push off the last of the lethargy.
My roommate made some grumbling noises when I walked back in.
He would head home immediately after getting up. His mom and dad
expected him every weekend as long as they were footing his
bills.
I finished dressing and stood by the window, staring out across
the low river into the next town. I was not looking at anything,
or thinking about anything.
Just waiting.
----
She walked into my room at 7:30 am. I turned to look; she had
chosen a tan business suit. It matched my shirt so perfectly I
shook my head when I thought maybe she was psychic. She smiled
widely seeing my choice of shirt.
Women in suits are fascinating. I always try to size them up to
see if they are the type to wear some frilly, tiny, sexy lingerie
underneath or a set of color coordinated practical bra and
panties. I did not have to wonder with Melisa. The last two days
had been an education in what a woman could hide beneath a
perfectly normal exterior, especially this woman.
She walked over and, checked to make sure I was presentable.
She reached up to kiss my neck. She did that instead of the
customary short kiss on the lips or cheek; I wondered why. She
proceeded to straighten out imagined wrinkles or bad positioning
in my clothing.
I let her.
It was one of those things I thought best to let a woman do. It
always struck me as very feminine so I smiled as she did it.
"Breakfast?" she asked.
"Where?"
"The Ramada," she said, "that way we can't be late and you'll
have a chance to get comfortable in the surroundings."
"I'm not uncomfortable," I replied.
She raised a blonde eyebrow at me.
I smiled, "Not that type of uncomfortable, anyway."
She smiled back.
I was not uncomfortable about my choice. You do not put a gun
to a lieutenant's head and question the choice. I had the right
motive in both situations.
I wanted to live.
She led the way out of my room and down to the parking lot. She
walked up to a black BMW and opened the door for me. I
appreciated the car before I got into the passenger side.
The delay while Melisa entered the car gave my senses the time
to place the eyes on the back of my head. I could have pointed to
both pairs but it would have warned them.
The inside of the BMW had a strong new car smell.
"Did you have to walk behind me the whole way?" she asked me.
"Yes," I said. I enjoyed the walk down to the car much more
having her ass to stare at on the way down. She smiled and shook
her head at me as she pulled the car out of the lot. I smiled out
the window; already enjoying how the Siblings I knew expected me
to openly appreciate their femininity.
"Yours?" I asked running my hand on the dashboard.
"For now," she said turning to smirk at me.
"Really trying, aren't they," I stated.
"Like I said in Dr. Ryan's office, you need to know what
denying yourself a Brother's ring would mean," she said with a
shrug.
I sat back and enjoyed the ride to the Ramada.
She stopped in front of the hotel and handed the keys to the
valet as she stepped out. She walked around the car, took my hand
and led me to the dining area. The host gave us a table next to
the window, not much to see but more pleasant than the inner
tables.
I ordered a simple breakfast.
"Are you nervous?" Melisa asked me.
"Not really," I said.
"How come?"
"This has all been planned, right?"
She nodded.
"The Brothers have been waiting for the right time for years
now. They would have picked up a major fault in me a long time
ago."
She smiled.
"You've tested me," I continued. "How many men would have tried
for more considering what you've been doing? You know I'm one of
them. This is the easy part, Melisa. It's just a question of
showing them that reality is what they already know it is."
"You don't think you'll fail here?" she asked.
"No."
She just stared at me.
"No matter what happens here, I've passed the biggest obstacle
between a black ring and me."
"What was that?" she asked.
"You want me, not as Melisa Bryar but as a Sibling. You've
never thought of me as anything other than one of them. I've been
thinking about how you treated me the last two years. It's gotten
stronger, hasn't it?"
She turned her head to stare out the window.
"You, Janet, even Doris Alex; three Siblings that like me
according to you and that means three Siblings that want me. The
most important step of being a dominant is mastering the
submissive."
I reached to turn her head so her eyes looked into mine.
"You've waited 10 years for this, Melisa. I'm not going to fail
you," I whispered.
The waiter arrived to drop off breakfast. It was one of the
best breakfasts I ever ate. It had nothing to do with the food;
Melisa's smile made everything seem brighter. We finished our
food in silence, and I enjoyed our coffee in the same quiet.
At five minutes to nine, Melisa looked at her watch and got up
saying "It's time, David."
I followed her out of the restaurant. I did not wonder at her
not having paid; they carefully choreographed every step.
She got into the elevator and pressed the button for the 7th
floor. I leaned back against the elevator, smiling; I really was
not nervous. I found that amusing to some degree, and wondered if
I should worry about my confidence.
The elevator stopped.
Melisa got out and turned to the right. She walked to the last
door of the hallway, opened it and stood back.
"I'll be called when you're done. If there's time, I'll wait
with you for the next one." she told me.
She stopped me as I passed her. I looked down at her,
questioning with my eyes. She stood on tip-toes to give me a
small kiss on the lips. She let go and walked past me to the
elevator. I watched her before entering the lion's den.
My interviewee was leaning back against the windows opposite
the door with her hands behind her.
She was amazing.
Tall, blonde, and athletically trim.
I expected the blue eyes as I got closer but their brilliance
surprised me. She stared at me as I approached her.
I could not have made her more beautiful.
Except.
"So do I call you Sister?" I said extending my hand.
She smiled for a second and then broke into laughter. She took
my hand and drew me into a hug. She motioned with her left hand
to a couch. The black-stoned ring of a Brother was prominent on
her ring finger.
"You expected this,"" she said sitting down across from me.
"How?"
"The Sibling ring on Melisa's hand," I said. "There's a female
kneeling with wrists bound, but the other side has a bound male.
I took it to mean either sex could wear it. The obvious leap from
that is Sisters or homosexual Brothers. I liked the idea of both.
Professor Ryan and Melisa also had a couple of hesitations and
said people a couple of times."
She smiled like I was a little brother doing her proud.
"The choice is obvious then. The perfect example of my standard
for attractive, even a little unreachable. Tall, blonde,
blue-eyed, and an athletic body. Can I look beyond the shell to
see the equal?"
"And can you?" she asked.
I stared at her looking inside myself as I studied her.
"You are beautiful," I answered, "but not attractive. As if I
had just been told me you were my sister."
"Incest is best," she said with raised eyebrows.
"I want the Siblings I know. You... I don't know... It's like I
was just told you're a lesbian. There's just nothing for me to
mentally latch onto," I said simply.
"Not even a little attractive," she pined in humor.
"I am hoping you have a twin sister who isn't quite as
brotherly, more siblingish so to speak," I said with a laugh and
she laughed with me.
"Actually, I have a baby sister, a junior in high school. I
think she's better looking and she is in Sibling training," she
said when our laughter passed.
"Better looking?" I asked doubtfully.
She nodded hard so I had to give her the benefit of the doubt.
"Then meeting her would be bad," I said with another quick
laugh.
"That's too unfortunate, David. A Brother in residence makes a
college very attractive to young Siblings. We were hoping you
would welcome Liz with open arms," she said with a smile of
mischief on her face.
"As a Brother, I have a feeling I would be more willing to do
the necessary bad things," I deadpanned.
She nodded sagely.
I guessed what the test would be, but I was still amazed that
as beautiful as she was, I really did not find her attractive. I
wanted time to think about that newly discovered facet of my
personality.
We sat there for a minute measuring each other, as if we were
long lost family members that had just met. I was sure I had
passed my first interview.
"Even though you seem to know what's coming, I guess you must
have questions."
"I have a few guesses about what's coming but I'm not sure
about them," I replied.
"Ohh?" she said questioningly.
"The order of the interviews." I explained.
"What are your guesses?"
"Well, you were the obvious one."
"And the next?" she asked.
"Male, black, homosexual," I stated crisply.
"But why?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The racial choice is easy. A man of directly opposite sexual
preference; probably as expressive in his homosexuality as I am
private in my sexuality. You stack prejudice on prejudice and see
if society has imprinted me with them."
She got up to and walked to the window.
"And the next one?" she asked me.
"That one is tough," I replied standing up to walk around the
room. "If this is to test my reactions to different Brothers, I
would pick someone almost exactly like me but set off some
classic male insecurities. Latin but better looking than me;
taller, more attractive body type. An extrovert to go against my
introverted nature. Everything and anything that would make me
look at him as unfavorable competition, and react to him in that
fashion."
I gave a short laugh.
"Hell, I'd make him a Spaniard instead of from this continent.
Go for culture bias too."
I stood next to her and leaned against the window.
She turned to look at me, and started laughing.
"Okay, let's go for the full passing grade," she said through
the laugh. "Three interviews on Saturday, four on Sunday; who
gets thrown at you tomorrow?"
"That's easy, the tradionalists. All of them old with a touch
of stodgy. Each one guaranteed to have annoyingly different views
of the world than a younger man," I replied jokingly.
"How do you that?" she asked me wonderingly.
I walked over to the couch, leaned back before replying.
"Would you believe, I'm psychic."
She smirked and sat down across from me.
"No, seriously."
I surprised myself by telling her the truth.
"Foster parents come in all shapes and perversities. You have
to know immediately if it's going to be beatings or sleeping
lightly. You can live with the beatings but you have to know when
to smash a few valuables to get them to kick you out. Or you need
to run the first chance you get."
She was quietly staring at me.
"I learned to watch people. Everything made sense once I
understood the underlying system or motivations," I said to her.
"Very rarely are there truly disparate actions. You want me but
there's a lot to protect; thousands of Siblings, close to two
thousand Brothers you expect me to count as closer than blood."
I stared at her for a minute.
"Liz is your baby sister and you're handing her over on a
silver platter. How careful would I be in that situation? How
careful would I be if I were able to choose my own brother or
sister? You have a file on me but that would not be enough. You
need to see me in action, that's what Melisa is for. You have to
hit me from unexpected sides; that's what these interviews are
for. Melisa, Janet even Doris Alex could tell you everything you
wanted to know though; there just couldn't be any other reasons
for the interviews. After that..."
I shrugged.
She raised her eyebrows.
"The tests seem obvious after that," I continued.
"But we didn't surprise you," she said simply.
"It's just as good," I said.
"Really?"
"The surprise would have been if I didn't figure it out."
"But you know the answers, David," she said.
"It doesn't matter; Brothers can't like surprises; I know I
don't. You expected this, at least from me. I know the answers
but I'm either a really good actor, or my reactions are exactly
what you want them to be anyway."
"And are you a good actor?" she asked me seriously.
I did not answer.
She smiled at me.
I asked her if there was another name for black ring wearers
than Brothers.
"No."
"The women don't mind?" I asked.
"Some do, but it's an old society. We keep the name Brothers
because of the tradition and in honor of those that built the
Brotherhood," she replied. "Siblings call us Sisters anyway.
Brother is a title we use between us now. Plus female Brothers
that don't like the name have to admit that the Brotherhood was
more than a few centuries ahead of it's time in accepting women
as equals."
She smiled proudly.
"The first female Brother accepted a ring close to a thousand
years ago. She had full Brother rights. Supposedly, the male
Brothers found it amusing to recruit male Siblings and present
them to her as gifts. By the time she died, there were over a
hundred female Brothers."
I nodded to myself.
"Why wasn't I approached sooner?" I asked seriously. "It seems
you've wasted a couple of years. I know Melisa thinks that."
"We were not the only ones interested in you," she admitted
honestly. "You possess a violent skill set considered a high
commodity among certain US agencies. We had to bury you to make
sure no one else tried to recruit you."
"How did you manage that?"
"Reports were altered to reflect the truth of what happened on
your last official mission. The truth in black and white is not
very pretty, and the three month detachment from your team at the
end of your career did not reflect well either. Nobody on that
mission answers any questions without having stars waved in their
face. Your military psychological profile was also changed to
flag you as dangerously capable of going rogue. After that, it's
just a matter of waiting until another class of young,
bright-eyed, bushy-tailed killers graduated from military
service."
"Killers?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. She did not answer
but maintained the eye contact.
"Why did you put tails on me?" I asked.
She nodded.
"We questioned whether you would know," she said softly. "The
military records state that your measurable senses test well
beyond normal capabilities."
"I know there's been at least two people following me since I
left Professor Ryan's office yesterday."
"Why haven't you done something about it?" she asked.
"They either belonged to you, or to someone that knows about
you? Either way, they are not important for now," I stated
carefully.
She nodded.
"They belong to us but are borrowed from other... never mind,
that's irrelevant for now. They are here to make sure you don't
try to expose us," she said.
"That has happened before?" I asked curiously.
"Would you take the chance?" she asked.
I shook my head slowly.
I did not need to know the consequences of trying to expose the
Brotherhood. Professor Ryan was not the kind of wordsmith that
threw a word like purge around lightly.
"You're treating me differently than other Brother candidates,"
I said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Professor Ryan said you usually study a Brother candidate for
two years. You isolate them for those two years, don't you?"
She nodded.
"Why not me?"
"You require special handling."
I waited silently.
She watched me for a couple of minutes and sighed.
"You're right," she said. "Any other candidate would be
isolated and after two years interviewed by any seven available
Brothers. We can't do that so the interviews serve a different
purpose in your case."
I nodded and stood up to look out the window.
"We would prefer not to tell you why yet, David. When the time
comes though, I give you my word you will be given a choice."
"You think I'll choose what you want, don't you?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied honestly.
"Even if you told me everything now, you believe I would make
the same choice."
"Yes, David," she said with finality.
I nodded and sat down across from her again.
"It's my turn to ask the questions," she said with a vicious
smile.
<1st attachment end>
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