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Subject: {ASSM} The Fall of Pride (MF, rom) TBD [End of the Flood, w/ Author's Note at end]
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Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2012 01:10:03 -0400
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MF, rom

A simple tale of a girl as she grows up, becomes a woman, and
eventually falls in love.
---

The Fall of Pride
-------

This isn't a sordid tale of incest, although my father helped my
mother teach me the ways a woman may entice a man or a woman close
enough that she could decide if she wanted to keep them interested in
her.

Nor is it a tale that tells of how I became a 'fallen woman', for in
truth, I am not, and never was.

I can be wanton when the situation requires that I be so, but I am not
'A Wanton', and I never desired, or needed, to become one.

No.  I call this 'The Fall of Pride' for two, very simple, reasons.

My parents were not living in poverty, but they were not rich, either,
except for an abundance of one thing.

Pride.

That is what they named me, their daughter--and only child.

My name is Pride...

And against my desires, I fell in love.

* * *

"Papa?"

"What is it, my second dearest?"

"When I do this."  I slid my hand across his chest.  "You smile and
hug me before you kiss me, but Mama only giggles and laughs, then she
tells me to stop."

He smiled, but this time he didn't hug me.  "We have been waiting for
you to ask that question, and many others.  Since you are asking,
someday you will wish to charm someone other than your parents into
letting you have your way with them."

I giggled and lowered my head until I could see him through my
eyelashes.  "You mean like this?"

He laughed.  "Yes.  That is a new trick.  Did your mother teach it to
you?"

"No.  Betsy did.  She said she'd found a way to make her father very
affectionate, and then showed me.  I feel silly when I do it."

Instead of laughing when I said 'silly', he helped me turn on his lap
so I could lean against him, then he hugged me and sighed.

"Pride, I am your father, and I am also a man.  When you do that, you
don't look silly, you make me realize you are growing up, and will
someday become a very attractive young woman.  Continue to practice
that look and any others you think of, and try them out on me or Mama"

Then he leaned forward and kissed my hair like he often did, but this
time the action made me shiver, and he noticed.  "When I kissed your
hair, did it make you feel good inside, like you wanted to hug
yourself?"

"I...  I am not sure, Papa.  Maybe.  I think it felt good.  Will you
do it again?"

"No."

I turned to look at his face, to see if he was serious, and decided he
was, so instead of seeing if he'd change his mind, I sighed.   "Why
not?"

"You are becoming a woman, and I am your father.  Once, I will do,
when I am in the mood.  A second time, I will not.  It would not be
proper."

When he said 'proper', I knew I would have a better chance of getting
my bedroom door to open and close when I commanded it to do so, which
is to say I knew he would never kiss my hair a second time, no matter
how much I tried to change his mind, so I sighed.

He laughed and gently pushed me off his lap.  "Go.  You may discuss
this and other things while you help Mama.  She's in the kitchen."

I giggled.  Mama had started talking to me about things that she
called 'girl talk', even though she admitted that she said them to
Papa, as was proper for a married woman.

"Is talking about kissing my hair, 'girl talk'?"

"Ask your Mama.  Go!"

* * *

"Slice the vegetables and get the stew started.  I'll deal with the
steaks."

"Yes, Mama."

I dutifully began cutting the vegetables, then I lowered my eyelashes
and looked through them at Mama when I saw her watching me.

She gasped in a funny way, then smiled at me.  "So, Pride.  Did you
figure that one out on your own, or did one of your friends share a
secret with you?"

"Betsy, Mama.  She said it makes her feel grown up and it makes her
father even more affectionate.  Papa said it made him realize I am
growing up and becoming a beautiful woman.  All I feel, is silly, when
I do it."

"Papa is right.  You are becoming a very beautiful young woman."

She put the steaks in the oven to bake, then sat in a chair and smiled
at me.  

"What you did is called 'seductive'.  It is one way to let a boy or
man know you  are interested in him, and that if he makes the proper
responses, you will seriously consider allowing him much closer
contact with you.  Perhaps you will allow intimate contact."

She giggled prettily.  "That can be the opening move in the game women
and men play with each other, or it can be the signal that says you
surrender yourself to him, without surrendering."

I knew I sounded dubious.  "If you say so, Mama."

"I do.  Now, watch your fingers while you finish preparing the
vegetables, and then sit and we will talk more about this, and other
things, while we wait for the food to cook."

I looked down and blushed, because the knife was much closer to my
fingers than it should have been.  A few more chops, and I knew I
would have learned of its closeness in a very painful way.

I finished, and then we talked of many things while we waited,
including why Papa had refused to kiss my hair a second time, and why
she sometimes called Papa her daddy when their door was closed and it
was late at night.  She also tried to explain why she giggled when he
called her 'his little girl'.

Much of it was very confusing, but Mama assured me that when I was
ready to understand, I would.

Then she made me giggle by telling me boys would be just as confused,
and that even though they tried to hide their confusion, everyone
really knew.  Hiding their confusion was one of the rules they had to
follow, if they were to become the kind of man a proper woman could
marry.

'The Great Game' was a very fun game to play, she said, and someday I
would know it was time to begin playing it for real.  In the mean
time, I could practice on her and Papa, until I decided to play it
with boys and girls my own age.

* * *

I was lying with my head on Papa's lap while Mama removed a splinter
from the bottom of my foot, when I felt his lap change, and there was
pressure next to my ear.

"Papa?  Do you have an erection?"

"Yes."

He grimaced and blushed when Mama giggled before she patted my foot
gently.  "There.  All done."

"Thank you, Mama."

Then I looked at Papa.  "Did I cause it?"

Papa believed in being honest, so even though he blushed, he smiled at
me.  "Yes, you did, honey.  You are a very beautiful young woman."

It was my turn to blush.

Mama stood after she'd made me bend my legs to get my feet off her
lap, then she looked at the two of us for a long time before she
nodded and held out a hand.  "Come, Papa.  It is time Pride had a
chance to see more than what she can discover through a partly open
bedroom door."

My blush darkened.  "You knew?"

She bent and brushed my flaming cheek with her hand.  "Of course we
knew.  We wanted you to see us loving each other, so you will have an
idea of what to expect when you decide it is time to add the pleasures
of the flesh to your life."

Papa made me shift so he could stand up, then, to my surprise, they
both stripped before Mama went to her knees in front of Papa.  "Pay
attention, Pride.  When you do not wish to give your body to a man,
but wish to give him a gift he will remember, a proper woman may give
him the gift of her mouth."

I had heard of blow jobs, as they are often called, but had never seen
one performed.

Mama licked his penis, fondled his testicles, and did many other
things that gave him pleasure, until, suddenly he grabbed at the back
of her head and drove himself into her before he became as still as a
statue.  He eventually sighed a deep sigh that sounded like he did
when he'd worked hard all day, and he was exhausted from his labors,
then he removed his hands from Mama's head.

While he was frozen, I could see Mama swallowing rapidly, and I
noticed that some of his semen had escaped to create little globs that
slowly moved down her chin.

Eventually she slowly moved her head backwards until his now soft
penis came out to flop limply.

She looked up, smiled tenderly, then ran a finger over her chin to
gather the dripping semen, which she then sucked off her finger, as if
she were sucking on his penis again.

When she finished she stood and turned her back to Papa, and when she
leaned backwards he wrapped his arms around her and then bent to kiss
her neck.

She moaned from somewhere deep in her throat and touched his hands.
"Later.  But soon, I promise."

Then she giggled and looked directly at me.  "It is a gift that can be
given in many ways, and few men tire of it.  Some, if you become
skilled enough, will desire your mouth more than they do your
womanhood."

She turned her head so Papa could kiss her mouth, then she pulled back
slightly.

"And you have seen enough, Pride.  From now on our door will remain
closed, and if you wish to discover more, you must find yourself a
partner willing to play the Great Game with you."

Then she took Papa by the hand and led him to their bedroom, whereupon
she closed the door firmly, and they made much noise, for many hours.

I lay there and pleasured myself while I listened to them, and
wondered who I might find, to begin playing the Great Game with.

* * *

I was seventeen when I decided to add the Great Pleasure to those I
already shared with boys, and some young men, if I looked on them
favorably enough.

Robert was less than a year older than I, and he had already learned
to give pleasure to himself and his partner, so one day, after I had
given him my mouth, I put on my most winsome look, and spoke
seriously.

"I wish to take you home to my parents, so they may meet the man I
have chosen to give the Great Gift of my body."

He stiffened and stared at me.  "You are still...  A virgin?"

"Yes."

"Everyone  thinks..."

He fell silent when I smiled and stood, then guided his hand to my
secret parts.  "People who think, have not asked.  Probe gently, and
learn the truth of the matter."

He probed, and his eyes went wide.  "You are!"

Then he removed his finger and hugged me while our lips met, and I
felt a heat greater than any I had ever known, begin to build within
me.  

I regretted my next action, but I forced myself to push him away.

"This is only a delay, Robert.  You must meet my parents, then, after,
you will begin teaching me the ways of man and woman."

"It will be difficult to wait."

"I, too.  But it is only for hours, not days."

He kissed me lightly on the cheek.  "I'm afraid, Pride.  I have never
serviced a virgin, and you mean much to me."

"You have serviced other women, and I trust you.  I know there could
be pain when you open me, and I ask that you ignore my screams and
protests once you do so.  Gentle me past the pain, if there is any,
and I will be content with whatever happens, I promise."

* * *

Mama and Papa studied us after I made my announcement.

Papa fixed Robert with his gaze and spoke warningly.  "That you will
give her a brief pain, I expect and will ignore, since when a woman
wants this, there is no stopping her, and Pride controls her body, not
anyone else."

Robert met his gaze levelly, then nodded.  "I understand."

Papa smiled strangely.  "I was sure that you would."

Then he spoke sternly.  "Are you prepared for ALL of a man's
responsibilities, when he takes a woman?"

I giggled and Robert blushed but did not duck his head, even though it
was obvious he was embarrassed.

"Of course I am, Sir.  Pride knows this because I asked her to help
select a variety of condoms so that she may explore their different
textures."

"HAH!"

He held out his hand.  "Then we will only worry a little."

They shook hands and grinned at each other.

Papa turned to Mama and held out his hand.  "There is a play you
wished to see, I believe.  If we hurry, we can make it in time to see
the entire second performance."

She smiled and took his hand in hers before they went to the door.

Just before Mama followed Papa out, she turned back and let us see her
merriment.  "We will be late getting home, of course.  Perhaps we
won't come home until tomorrow.  The play is a passionate one, and...
The truth is, it is most improper."

She giggled as she turned away from us, then closed the door behind
them.

I had to touch his arm to get his attention.  "Robert?"

He spoke slowly.  "I have never met parents like yours.  It was a very
strange, yet uplifting experience."

I touched his cheek and turned his face so he would know I was teasing
him when I spoke.  "Well, then.  Does it reassure you that you will
never meet another woman who is the same as I?"

He laughed and pulled us together.  "All woman are the same, Pride,
yet they are also very different.  The contrast is a wonder to men who
have the wit to see, and appreciate it."

We kissed, we let our hands explore each other, and when he reached to
cup me, I arched and allowed him the touch I had never felt.

His fingers moved, and suddenly I understood why Mama would moan from
deep in her throat when Papa placed his hand on her private part.

I moaned, and for the first time in my life, my moan came from deep
within me, in a way I'd never dreamed was possible.

I was a puppet, and Robert's fingers were controlling me in ways that
were new, yet also familiar.  He paused, and I managed to whisper one
word:

"Now!"

He laughed.  "I want it too, but we must prepare for this."

He bent slightly, put his arms behind me and I practically leapt
backwards to let him  cradle me in them as he straightened.

"Am I too heavy for you?"

"Never!"

I giggled.

"And where is My Lady's Bower, so that I may carry her to it and
ravish her endlessly, or at least, until we both collapse?"

My giggles turned to laughter, and after I managed to catch my breath
I spoke tremblingly.  "Down the hallway, next to last door on the
left."

He nodded and started walking slowly, until he stopped and I had to
open my door.

He entered and carefully placed me on my bed, then, he fell forward to
put part of his weight across me while he kissed me hungrily.

"For this night, you are mine, Pride."

"YES!  YES!  I am yours!"

He pulled away, took his clothes off, then stood there with his
maleness jutting out as if it were seeking for a target.  I knew what
that target was, so I lay there and slowly disrobed until I was naked,
in the midst of my removed clothing.

I spread my legs as far apart as they would go, then I slid one hand
across my center while I reached and touched his penis lightly.

He shivered, then sighed.  "As much as I desire this, you must wait a
few seconds longer, until I am properly sheathed.  Do you have a
preference?"

"The thinnest one.  The one that will allow me to feel your heat."

He smiled.  "Do you wish to place it?"

"Yes!"

He found it, tore the packet, then offered it to me.

I grabbed at it, pulled the condom out, then placed it on his tip and
unrolled it  slowly while I marveled at the way his penis changed from
an angry red to something muted, and glistening.

I leaned forward, kissed his tip gently, then pulled away and lay on
my back.  "A kiss, for luck."

He smiled, and I took a deep breath.

"Quickly!  Before I lose my nerve!"

He got on top of me and I felt him poke me slightly, and then he
paused.

"Are your sure about this?"

I wrapped my arms around his back.  "YES!"

He took a deep breath, seemed to gather himself...  Then he drove his
hips forward.

I felt a sharp pain that made me scream, then it was over and his
weight was on me, and he was in me.

He surprised me by not moving his hips.  "Be patient, Pride.  Everyone
says the pain goes away quickly."

"It was the shock.  It...  Hurt.  It's not so bad, now.  Not as bad as
I thought it would be."

"Good.  Let me try something.  I'll be gentle."

He stayed inside me and slid himself higher on my body, then rocked
his hips gently and with very short strokes.

I gasped.  "You're rubbing my clit!"

"An older woman taught me that trick.  Do you like it?"

"Yes!  Yes!  Don't...  The pain is almost completely gone!"

I still hurt, a little, but the pleasure that came from his rubbing my
clit with his penis was unlike anything I'd ever felt, yet it was
still like what I felt when I pleasured myself.

He kept pumping slowly, and it seemed like it lasted forever until,
suddenly, I realized I was going to orgasm, and this time my scream
was jolted out of me because I felt so good.

I started to recover, but he kept up his stroking and for the first
time in my life I knew what women meant when they talked of multiple
orgasms.

I nearly swooned from all the pleasure I felt, and he kept pumping
until I could take no more, and swooned.

When I awoke, Robert had us on our sides facing each other, and he was
pressed against me.

"Pride?  Are you well?"

I managed a tired giggle.  "More than.  Will it be like that every
time?"

He laughed.  "I wish!"

Then I felt his body heat up and I knew he was blushing.

"What is it, Robert?"

"When you swooned, I could not bring myself to continue, so I
withdrew, then went to the bathroom and came back with a cloth I had
soaked in warm water.  I cleaned you carefully, there was very little
blood, and it stopped even as I finished caring for you.  Do you still
hurt?"

I considered what my body was telling me, and hugged him tightly.  "I
hurt, but it is a good hurt, and not so painful.  Thank you.  When
will we be able to do it again?"

He laughed.  "As soon as you are ready.  I replaced the condom with a
new one before I cuddled with you to wait for your wakening."

"Are you always so careful?

"Yes."

"Mmm...  I feel brave enough to try again."

I reached, and this time I was the one who guided his penis, and now
that he went slowly, I could feel myself adjust to him as he pushed
into my depths.

When it was over, and he could go no further, I marveled at how good
it felt.

I was sore, but in spite of feeling stretched and filled nearly to
bursting, the soreness did not change to pain.

"Move within me, Robert.  Slowly, at first."

He did, and the soreness suddenly changed to pleasure.

"Oohhh!  Take me to be your own.  I want to feel you orgasm in me!"

We moved, and he fell free.

We both froze, then I couldn't stop my frustrated giggle.  "Perhaps it
would be better, at first, if I held still and let you do all the
work?"

He laughed and reinserted himself.  "Relax, it happens more often than
people like to admit, until they learn how to move together.  I will
do as you suggest, this time, then, after I recover, you may be the
one to do the moving.  There is a position quite suited for that."

"Really?"

"Yes.  I will take you as we lie, then I will show you the new
position."

"Tease!  Shut up, and fuck me!""

He did, without worrying about me, and soon his movements became
strong, and he slammed against me so hard it should have been painful,
but it wasn't, and I didn't care.

Then he drove so hard I wanted to cry out, and his muscles locked us
together so tightly that I later wondered that our flesh had not
merged.

I felt a  peculiar rippling along his length, and I knew that if not
for the condom, he would have driven his seed deeply inside me.

A part of me was saddened that I was not allowed to feel all that a
woman should, then I giggled, because I knew there were things best
felt on the bridal bed.

I kept Robert in my life for many months, then, one day we seemed to
accept that although we enjoyed each other's company, there was
something lacking, and our friendship would never become more.

So we found new partners, who helped us learn new things, when we
weren't doing things we were familiar with, and I learned still more
about myself, and my body.

* * *

Mama worried, but Papa would smile and shake his head while telling
Mama I was more like him in matters of the body and heart, and she
would finally nod a little sadly, and leave me alone.

Papa would smile a strange smile at that point, then touch her
tenderly.  "Pride seeks herself as much she does any man.  Someday she
will meet a man who holds the mirror she seeks, and she will know who
she is, and who he is."

His words puzzled me, because I knew who I was, and was in much demand
as a live model, in spite of the way I was free with my physical
charms when I met men who attracted me.

As I mentioned, I was known to be wanton, when captured, but I was not
a Wanton who gave freely to all.  Thus, while I was often talked of in
whispers, the whispers were more often spoken in tones of admiration
and jealousy, than they were in condemnation.

And when those who believed the rumors that I was a Wanton, persisted
in attempting to prove them correct, there were always men who would
leap to my side to defend me.

It was a good life, and I lived it to the fullest.

Oh, I knew I was missing something, but I had never looked at a man
and thought 'This is the one who can be Papa to my Mama'.

Many men had shared my bed, and asked for more, but I had always
gently evaded giving them more than my body, and the affection that
attaches itself to the pleasure of the flesh.

* * *

I was nearly thirty when Yule entered my life.

 I was modeling an evening gown for one of the local gown makers, when
he came into the store.

"Young woman, is the dressmaker available?"

I frowned at him.  "Ask one of the clerks.  I know not."

"You work here, do you  not?  Surely, knowing his availability would
be part of your job."

"I am a model, and only here when asked to be."

"Ah, I see."

He started to turn away, then turned back suddenly.  "That is a very
pretty gown, but it does not hang well on you.  Whoever made it should
have noticed that you carry your left shoulder higher than your right,
and adjusted the straps to compensate.  It hangs unevenly, and is very
unflattering to you."

Then he looked me over intently, as if I were the one he was
interested in buying, and not the gown.

"White is not your color.  Red to match your passion, or a deep blue
to match the chill depths of your heart."

"How dare you!"

He shrugged.  "Truth, is truth.  You are good at what you do, or you
would not be here.  It is not your fault you are who you are, and
someone did not take the time to see you as yourself, and not the
animated mannequin they pay you to be."

Then, to my surprise, he walked out without searching for a clerk, to
find out if the dressmaker was available to conduct his business with.

I seethed, but kept it hidden for the rest of the day.

Or so I thought, until Henrietta confronted me at closing time.

"Something is wrong with you today, Pride."

Since Henrietta had become a close friend, and no one of importance
was around, I exploded.  "That MAN!  He said I have a chill heart."

"Ah.  So you have met Yule, at last.  I wonder where he has been for
so long?"

I was stunned.  "You know that...  Barbarian?"

"Quite well.  Did he say why he was here?"

"He wished to know if the dressmaker was available.  I said I did not
know, and suggested he find a clerk.  He started to turn away, then he
turned back and called the gown pretty, but because I carry my left
shoulder higher than my right, it did not hang well on me...  And that
it was very unflattering."

She frowned.  "Ah?  He said that, did he?  Stand straight, and let me
look at you."

I did as she commanded, and she walked around me.

When she stood in front of me again, she was shaking her head.  "The
difference is very slight, but it is there.  Your vibrant beauty
distracts the eye, so it has never been noticed before.   *He* would
see it, though."

She gazed at the door for a long time, then spoke softly.  "Yule is a
good man, for all that he looks at women and sees...  Mannequins.  He
is not usually so quick or so abrupt when he points out their
perfections and flaws.  Something must have him distracted.  Did he
stay and see the dressmaker?"

"No.  He left me, as if he'd forgotten his mission."

"He will be back.  If you are here, send one of the girls to find the
dressmaker.  The two of them are old friends and do not see each other
as often as they would like.  Until then, forget about him, and ignore
his abrasive ways.  In a few months, he will vanish again, for another
year or two."

In spite of myself, I was intrigued.  "You say you know him 'quite
well'?"

She laughed.  "Hunting him already?  If you think to do so, do not
expect more than the pleasures of the flesh.  He is ordinary and has
nothing to distinguish him from other men, except for his ability to
see you clearly--and say so.  As you have apparently already learned,
that does not make him good for anything more than what he offers
almost indifferently, when you ask for it."

"He sounds like a challenge, and since he wanders, we will both be
able to avoid the usual messy farewells."

Henrietta laughed.  "A good way to view him.  Many have not, and paid
the price."

"I always keep that in mind."

She smiled teasingly.  "As many men, and women, have learned over the
years."

* * *

The next time we met was a few days later, as I was walking home.

He knelt in front of me, then took my hand and kissed the back of it.
"I seek your forgiveness for my abruptness a few days ago.  My mind
was distracted by other matters.  Usually I speak my honesty more
politely."

"You do not ask me to forgive that honesty?"

"Of course not, Pride.  Truth never needs an apology, no matter how it
is delivered."

I decided two could play this game.  "My name is easily discovered, as
is yours, Yule.  You intrigue me. My body is yours for as long as you
stay, if you wish it.

"Your apology is accepted, even though, once I had time to consider
your words, and their intent, I was no longer upset with you.  Stand,
and be the man you are.   Do not seek my favors by the lie of acting
servile--and concerned for what others may think of you."

"You do not offer me the gift of your heart?

"My heart must be earned, and I am not looking at you in the way that
makes that earning likely."

"I will not try to earn it."

He stood, and we studied each other while we ignored the people who
had to go around us.

Finally he was the one to speak first.  "A gift honestly given, and
honestly accepted, deserves a gift of equal or greater value in
return.  What you offer me has no real value to me, because while the
package is quite pretty, the contents are still ordinary, in spite of
the skill with which people say you use them."

I stiffened, then relaxed and laughed.  "I have been told you are
ordinary, except for your ability to see others clearly, and your
insistence that you prove it to them.  What then, can you offer me
that would hold my interest for very long?"

He tilted his head back and laughed loudly.  When he brought it down
he was sober, but something in his eyes said he was still laughing at
some great joke, inside.

"Ahhh...  Pride.  You are aptly named, aren't you?"

"Of course.  All women who admit they are women, deserve the name
Pride.  I happen to be able to use it openly, that's all."

"Do you see me as a challenge?"

"All men are challenges.  A few, I accept, most I do not.  You are one
I accepted."

He nodded.  "Very well.  While I am here, I give you my word I will be
an honest friend."

I raised my eyebrows.  "An offer I have heard many times.  Too many
times."

He smiled.  "I don't doubt it.  But, how many have made the offer
*after* you have given them use of your body?  And how many proved
their honesty *before* the friendship was offered?"

I conceded his points graciously.  "One, Yule.  You."

I held out my hand.  "I accept your gift, for now."

He took my hand and lifted it to his lips while he watched my face.
"My gift is like yours.  Easily renewed, and thus one that the
receiver must place a value on, not the giver."

He let go and gestured in the direction of his manhood. "Of course, to
be fair, this is yours whenever you desire to use it."

His tones were so droll I had to laugh.  "You play the Great Game
well."

He sighed.  "I do not play it at all.  But that is something you will
have to learn by experiencing it, as many other women have learned,
then, disappointed at the discovery of a truth I had already revealed,
they have gone hunting for men who do play the Great Game."

Before I could react to that absurd statement, he offered me his arm.
"I will be pleased if you share my dinner, at a place of your
choosing."

I didn't hesitate.  "Do you have cooking facilities where you are
lodged?"

"I do."

"Then we will go shopping together, and I will prepare your dinner
there."

"You are bold."

"I am impatient, and pragmatic.  The purpose of an intimate dinner, is
to encourage intimacy.  Once that point is reached, there is no reason
to destroy the mood by delaying what both of us desire."

"And it leaves me with a sink filled with dirty dishes, if you decide
to leave me after we have been intimate."

"Were you planning on leaving after that happens?"

"No.  I will be here for about three months, then I will leave again,
as always."

"I said I am yours until you leave.  I am, as some people will
reluctantly admit, an honest woman.

"When I dirty the dishes, I will wash them.  What you do when you get
them dirty is up to you.  Ask, and I will wash them.  Otherwise they
will be yours to deal with."

He smiled.  "You make your points well.  We will go shopping, and then
I will guide you to where I am staying."

We did the shopping and he paid a street urchin to use his cart to
carry what he'd purchased, to an address I recognized as being in an
older, run down part of the city.

Surprisingly, the urchin did not try to steal anything, and when I
spoke of the matter, it was the urchin who responded.

"The Master sends money to help us when times are hard, Mistress.  It
has always been so between our families.  He could have any of our
services for free, because he has paid for them many times over.  But
he pretends to be a hard man, who insists on paying us, so we humor
him." 

Yule reached and tousled the boy's hair.  "Impudent whelp, but honest,
which is all that matters, isn't it?"

The boy grinned.  "It's not easy, being honest, but you are right, I
make more because of it.  Who is your beautiful companion, this time?"

"Pride.  We first met when I saw her modeling a gown at a dressmakers.
The gown was pretty, but unflattering."

His eyes went wide as he turned to look at me.  " 'The Pride'?"

I laughed.  "Some people call me so, yes."

He sighed deeply.  "I wish I was a virgin, again.  It is said that a
first time with you is unlike any other."

I raised my eyebrows.  "Perhaps.  I endeavor to make the night
enjoyable, and one the man wishes to repeat, with me, or someone else.
I also attempt to teach him that there is more to sex than orgasming."

I shrugged.  "Most learn the lesson, some do not.  Which were you?"

He shrugged as he turned and we started walking.  "I learned what I
was paid to learn, which is to quickly pleasure a woman who has little
time to spare for the needs of the flesh.  My services are often
called for, and rewarded with extra coins."

"So you have never spent a leisurely night with a woman?"

"Never."

"Do you wish to?  I would not be the one, for Yule has been promised
the use of my body until he leaves again.  After that, if you seek me
out, I would be amenable to allowing you a night of exploration."

"I would wait, but I fear such an experience.  I am afraid it would
ruin me for many women, because I would expect more of them than they
wish to give."

"Wise, too.  I understand your fears.  However, do you not dream of
something better?  There are women who would pay you what you earn in
a month, if you were willing to give them an evening, night, and
morning of pleasure that included the tender actions of a husband,
without the commitment of the bridal bed."

"A gigolo?"

"No.  Gigolos are paid to say and do what the buyer wants to hear and
do.  A husband says what needs to be said, and is honest about it,
while he plays the Great Game."

"The Great Game, Mistress?  I have never heard of it."

"It is the game all men and women play.  Life.  Just because it is
serious, that does not mean we must take it seriously.  We are allowed
to enjoy ourselves while we play, and that is what I do, on my own
terms.  Since you know who I am, surely you know that much about me."

"I have heard much, Mistress.  I do not always believe what I hear,
especially when the tales sound very much like the fairy tales Ma used
read when she wished to lull me to sleep."

"Go to the dressmaker's, and if I am not there, tell them I sent you,
then explain what you desire, as best you can.  After that, what
happens will be up to you."

He looked over his shoulder at Yule, who nodded.  "Pride is an honest
woman, not a harlot who sells herself.  As it happens, the dressmaker
and I are old friends.  Add my name when you speak of your dreams, and
he will see what he can do to help, if her name is not enough to get
him to act.

"There are many women who desire more than what their flesh demands,
when they lie with a man.  A man who is both capable in bed, and
honest, will be in much demand, and he will have to learn how to
gently refuse a woman's pleading."

The boy's eyes grew wide again.  "*I* would be able to say 'no', and
not worry about having food to eat?"

"Yes.  Honesty, invested wisely, pays dividends that surpass the
wildest dreams a man or woman may have."

Yule turned to me.  "The boy is honest.  He would made an excellent
courier and delivery boy, perhaps even an apprentice, since his
fingers are nimble."

The boy blushed.  "You challenged me!"

Yule laughed.  "So I did, and I was not upset, only impressed enough
to remember your dexterity.  You could do worse than becoming an
apprentice gown maker.  I will match the earnings your family would
lose, for the first year."

The boy stopped and turned to face us.  Then he spat on his hand and
held it out. "Done!"

Yule spat on his hand and reached, then the boy's eyes looked at me
with wonder when I too, spat on my hand and held it out for him to
shake.

He protested.  "Ladies do not need to do that, Mistress!"

I giggled.  "It is only a passion filled kiss, delivered discretely.
Besides, I am no Lady.  I am a Woman."

We shook hands, then he turned and we resumed our journey.

While we walked, I placed my hand on Yule's arm and spoke gently.

"Words are like clothing, and should be chosen to match the occasion.
That is the joy of the Great Game, to deliberately choose words that
seem to contrast with the situation when heard from afar, yet to the
one speaking them, and the one they are intended for, the words say
exactly what is meant.

"You are like the man who has only one or two changes of clothing, so
he wears them as he chooses, without seeking to expand his wardrobe.

"You are alive and since the Great Game is life itself, you
participate in it.  Your earlier denial  was absurd, as I'm sure you
must have realized long ago, yet you insist on making it."

I stopped him and turned him so I could kiss his lips lightly before I
pulled away to watch his face.  "Your words are true, they must be, so
that means you don't play the Great Game, you take it seriously,
perhaps too seriously for your own good."

His face had gone blank as I spoke, then he grimaced when I finished.

Finally he straightened and watched my eyes.  "Forgive me, Pride. Your
heart is not chill, it is only locked behind a door that nobody has
found the key to."

I knew I gasped, and then I blushed as deeply as I ever had.

We were as magnets set to pull each other together, when our lips met
again, and I melted into his embrace.

It was a good natured shout that broke us apart.

"Get a room, man!  This is a respectable neighborhood!"


I giggled, and he laughed heartily before he spoke calmly.

"Do I remain here with you, or will you join me in my travels?"

"Both, my husband.  For now we may travel, and when we are ready, we
will settle, together."
---

End: The Fall of Pride
=====

That's almost all of it, neighbors.

There's some work I decided to only have on Writer's Block, so if you
want to know what it is, you'll have to join and look the site over.

www.yotnasden.co.uk/forum/vb/index.php

Note that you'll have to send an email to Yotna or Esu, if you want to
register.

I hope you all found something worth your time.

Take Care,
The Black Dog

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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