Chapter 56

Frustration, Thou Art A Cruel Mistress.

However, Frustration in the search of Perfection, just makes you one stone cold, hard hearted, unforgiving, soul breaking, fucking bitch!

If I could take a whip to you, I swear that I would flay the very flesh from your bones.

Yet here I stand, your slave, constantly seeking to please you enough that you would let me hear in the physical world, what I hear in my head.

The frustration of seeking perfection in an impossibly imperfect environment!

Fuck you, you impossible to please fickle whore!!!!!

Yeah, I can just hear all of you now, “Who is this crazy bastard yelling at, and about what?”

“Is he going nuts on one of his slaves?”

“Which one fucked up so bad to bring this on?”

The truth is no, I’m not getting ready to kill one of them or anything like that.

The simple, or not so simple, depending on your point of view ... anyway, the simple truth is that I’m a “Control Freak”.

Yeah, yeah, I know, “No shit Sherlock” Right?

All true, all true. But, The Fickle Whore I refer to up above is not one of my girls, or even a friend of mine. No, I refer to her as the Goddess of Perfection, or whatever the hell you want to call her.

I have spent and continue to spend large amounts of my sanity, and untold hundreds of hours, not to mention blood, sweat, and tears in trying to coax what I need from her.

What am I rambling about? My music, what else?

Basically I’m chasing perfection, in a highly imperfect environment, as I said above.

Is it lack of knowledge? Lack of talent?

No, It’s also something that I said at one point in the rant up above, which is not being able to bring into the physical world, the sound, the perfection, the one little piece of said perfection that I hear in my head.

Ok ... calming down now. Hopefully, I can explain it well enough for my frustration to be understood.

You see, there is a part in the chorus/refrain of this song that I’m trying to make fit like I hear it in my head, but can’t realize it, can’t bring it to fruition.

It drives me nuts.

The problem in a nutshell, is that the lead guitar part that I played through each of the refrains or chorus sections just will not lay under the vocals instead of just being there to push the melody along. Therefore, it clashes with said vocals.

But, the whole hook of the song is that lead guitar melody line playing under the vocals.

A real world example for you would be the “Guns’N Roses” song “Sweet Child O’ Mine”.

The whole hook of that song (other than the vocals and groove) is that opening lead guitar line that is just so fucking awesome and it brings the song in so perfectly.

However, it ALSO runs through every one of the chorus sections, yet it never interferes with the vocals ... meaning they had to find away for that lead line to not only carry the song/chorus, but to also not blow the vocals that are going on above it.

The producer had to find just the right mix of volume and EQ to make it all work.

Sounds simple doesn’t it?

Trust me, it is not simple at all.

One click to either side of any of the elements, and the whole song goes from a beautiful and uplifting Hard Rock ode to love, to nothing but total shit.

Okay, “total shit” is a bit too strong. The song would still be there and would be very close to the way it became. However, had not all of the elements been there and been as perfect as they were, it might not have “touched” the world in the way that it did.

If that sounds a little “out there”, trust me, if you were anywhere near my age bracket when that song hit and you had a heart, it “touched” you.

Not that our song is anywhere near the genius of that song, but you still want it to have the chance to at least “touch” somebody ... anybody.

So, there it is in a nutshell. I have basically tried every trick I know in hopes of getting it to work, but every time I thought I was close, I felt myself getting farther away.

That’s when you start running into diminishing returns. When what you really need is a break ... but you try to plow through it anyway.

Thus my raging frustration at the top of this chapter.

Silly? Melodramatic? Maybe.

But, it’s my cross to bear.

Thank you for letting me get it out.

If there is one silver lining in all of this, it’s that I have several walking, talking, and breathing “stress relievers” that call me “Master”.

One of which who had sealed her fate for the next couple of hours by texting me a “6” with enough exclamation points after it to put her in very deep trouble for the evening.

The text was waiting on my phone when I got out of my second hot shower of the day.

This is one of those times when the punishment is going to be so deserved, I don’t even have to yell.

Cool and collected was now the buzzword ... actually an even better description would be “Ice Fucking Cold”.

At just the right time, I was sitting on one of the barstools placed a few steps away from the counter, facing the door and wearing nothing but a towel and an evil smile.

The girls all said “Hello Master” as they came in and immediately started shedding their clothes, Laura and Becky included.

I told Holly to stay dressed, which got me an “Oh Shit” look from all of them.

Holly’s face went very pale and she swallowed hard a couple of times, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Give Adrian your phone, slave.”

Something in the tone of my voice resulted in her phone being in Adrian’s hand in the space of a breath.

Holly was close enough that I could put two of my fingers under her chin and she slowly lowered herself to her knees never going faster than my touch nor did her eyes ever leave mine.

“Do I need to explain my mood, slave?”

She swallowed hard again and half whispered, “No Sir.”

I then reached down and pulled her tight blouse open hard enough to send a couple of buttons flying and leaving her beautiful breasts covered in only her bra which was cut so low that about the only things left hidden were her nipples.

Not that they were hidden all that well either, as each of them were hard enough to show plainly just where they were under the very thin material.

That didn’t last for very long as I made sure to slowly but menacingly rip even that last bit of cover from her shaking upper body.

Still, having the blouse and the remnants of the bra on, even in it’s tattered state, made for a much hotter scene and look.

Through all of this, her eyes never left mine. The pupils growing wide as her body reacted to her situation. The smell of a bitch in heat destroyed any illusion that any of my girls may have had that she not only expected this, but wanted it as well.

That’s not to say that her sister Adrian having control of her phone didn’t worry her just a bit. But, she also knew that she was powerless to stop whatever was to happen now, which truth be told, made her nipples even harder, her sex even wetter, giving away her ever rising state of arousal.

A vicious, yet highly erotic state indeed.

Our eyes were still locked on each other as I reached around and grabbed a tightly held handful of her blonde hair and used it to slowly pull her head down. Her mouth opened as she knew what was coming.

By this point, my very hard cock had escaped the towel and now it was slowly ... very slowly, being swallowed up into the slave’s mouth as my grip on her hair forced her down until I was fully and finally lodged in her throat.

“Do not move, slave. You will not move a single inch until I say you can. I know that your throat is sore, slave. In fact, I’m counting on it. This is only the beginning. If you understand these orders so far, hum once. Slowly.”

She did as instructed.

“Good. From this point forward, if my cock is in your throat and I ask you a question, you will give one hum for “yes” or two for “no”. Trust me slave, you do not want to fuck this up, do you understand?”

One hum.

“I will be in the throat that I own quite a lot for the next few hours. Is that a problem, slave?”

Two hums.

“Is that pretty throat really that sore, slave?”

One hum.

“Does that matter slave?”

Two quick hums. I admit, I was impressed.

But then again, this WAS Holly, after all.

“Listen to me, slave. When allowed to move at all, you will give the slowest strokes with that mouth and throat that you possibly can. Understood slave?”

One hum.

“Good. Show me. Now!”

Thank God for an iron will. Yes, even at a very slow pace, she is that fucking good.

“Down and stop, slave.”

I should explain that I was using the word “slave” so much, so as not to call her by any of my pet names for her.

If I used even one of them, that would have given her something to hold on to, as in, “Master can’t be that mad at me ... he still called me “Pretty Girl”, so keeping it at just “slave” gave her no comfort at all other than the fact that she is just that; still my “slave”.

I then looked around at my girls and told them that I expected a deep loving kiss from each and every one of them except for “The bad slave already on her knees. She doesn’t deserve a kiss at the moment.”

I did caution them not to jostle the slave too much, but they had better do as they were just instructed and I meant now.