Homecoming

The wind was rising. She could hear it whistling down the chimney's open flue, the sound of it sending a chill up her spine. It moaned as though it were alive-- an unnatural, hollow sound. She often thought the howl of the wind was what the sound of the earth weeping must sound like. Beyond the open French doors that dominated the far wall of her chambers, dark clouds were rolling in the sky, gathering and twisting, dark and heavy with the promise of rain. The air felt charged, alive....the storm was coming, and it would be a severe one, she knew. The thought had her rising from her dressing table and walking to the doors. The sheer floor length drapes billowed into the room as she approached the doors, carried on the wind, reaching toward her as though to embrace her like ghostly white fingers in the flickering candlelight.

The wind enveloped her as she stepped out onto the small, Venice style terrace, whipping her long hair around her, and plastering her floor length dressing gown to her slender frame. She lifted her face to the wind for a moment, letting it kiss her cheeks with its warm, humid summer night touch.

He was late.

Word had reached her this evening that His train had been delayed...He would be arriving four hours later then planned. The wait had been unbearable thus far, but with only an hour and a half remaining before His arrival now, she could focus her attention on preparing herself for Him. The thought of His arrival put another shiver down her spine, one of an entirely different nature. With a soft smile upon her lips, she turned and walked back into her chambers, her bare feet silent on the cool floor.

She paused beside the folding screen near her private bath, and slid out of the pale blue dressing gown. Draping it over one corner of the ornate cherry wood screen, she walked naked into her bath, and sat down on the edge of the deep marble tub. She ran the water a bit hotter then normal, and reaching for a small silver bottle, placed a few drops of pure Jasmine oil in the water. She quickly pinned her long hair up, lost in her thoughts. He liked the soft scent of Jasmine on her flesh, and she liked to please Him. As she sank into the hot water, it was with a soft sigh of bliss.

A deep rumble of thunder echoed through the room and she opened her eyes, a look of concern her eyes as the implication of the storm set in at last.

Would He make it safely from the station?

He'd insisted on securing His own transportation, wanting her home and ready for Him when He walked through the door. The thought of Him driving in a severe thunderstorm sent a shiver of fear through her.

He'll be fine, she told herself. She just wished her heart was as easy to convince as her mind. Lifting a small sponge, she lathered it with soft, Jasmine scented soap, and lifted a long leg out of the water, resting her toes on the edge of the cool marble tub. She ran the sponge slowly along the smooth curves of her calf and lower thigh, enjoying the sensation of the rough yet soft sponge against her skin. She'd waxed, only a few hours before, and so her skin was smooth, soft, hairless and ultra sensitive to touch, from the neck down. She lifted herself then to sit on the cool back edge of the tub, and finished washing, resisting the urge to let her mind wander, focusing herself on getting ready, and ignoring the throbbing below.

She stood, and lifting the glass pitcher off the marble shelf, began scooping up the hot scented water and letting it cascade down over her body, rinsing herself off. Her ablutions complete, she stepped from the tub and dried herself off with a soft warm terrycloth towel. The material, however soft, felt almost like sandpaper against her ultra sensitized skin.

She had spent long hours debating which silks she would wear this night, she wanted firstly to be wearing something He had never seen before and secondly, something that would be so stunning so as to leave Him riveted. She had not reached any successful conclusions. Three outfits lay on her bed, all new and crafted by her own hands. Her skills as a seamstress had improved dramatically since she had allowed Him to take ownership of her, simply because she never wanted Him to see her in the same outfit twice. The slave silks were not something that was easy to find, nor purchase, and so, she made her own, learning how to craft them as finely as any fine tailor or seamstress could. Over time she had added her own variations and twists to the designs, earning His approval each time, which never stopped putting a smile on her face.

The one she finally settled on was a set, a top and full skirt. The bodice was made of an icy blue, iridescent silk that shimmered when the light touch it with a rainbow of colors. It was cut low, almost scandalously low, and was off the shoulder, with a lacing front that ended just below her breasts, leaving her midriff entirely bare. A soft cowl of a mother of pearl-like mesh complimented the blue silk, its soft cream iridescence matching gloriously. The skirt sat very, very low on her hips, consisting of a very thin band of the blue silk circling her hips, and a rectangle of the cream colored mesh front and back, long enough to trail slightly on the floor. The creation left both sides of her thighs completely bare. Micro-pleats gave the skirt a full rich look, the translucence of the mesh giving a hint of what lay below. She'd sewn tiny little pearls onto the blue silk by hand, in a pretty spiraling pattern over both skirt and top.

She dressed quickly, sighing in deep satisfaction as the silk caressed her skin. This one would please Him deeply. The thought of His pleasure in her brought a soft purr of pride to her lips. She turned to the full length mirror, and smiled. Yes....this was the one to wear. She unpinned her hair and let it cascade down her mostly bare back, smiling at her reflection. Thunder rumbled again, much deeper and closer then before, as she sat at her dressing table and first brushed then braided her hair in a long single plait that ended just below the small of her back. On a whim, she plucked a tiny white rose from the mini rose bush she kept on he dresser and pinned it just above her right ear. Opening the small flat box on her dresser, she removed her collar.

It was crafted of soft white leather. A slender, rectangular inset of white gold rested in the front, above a small D ring. Written with tiny sapphires on the gold plate were His initials. She brought the collar to her lips and kissed the initials tenderly, then carefully buckled it at the back of her neck securely. Only one thing was missing now. Reaching into her jewelry box she took out two bracelets and two anklets, each a fine silver chain adorned with tiny bells that tinkled softly when she moved. At last, she was ready.

It was a full forty five minutes before she heard Him on the front step. She quickly slid to her knees in the center of the entranceway, her thighs spreading naturally as she descended, her back straight and head high, her eyes lowered. She crossed her wrists before her breasts and took a deep shaky breath, shivers of excitement and anticipation racing through her. The door opened, letting in a gust of wind and rain, and He stepped inside, quickly closing the door.

"Fucking nasty out there." He said, and she felt herself dampen at the sound of His voice, a deep current of fire running through her. He dropped His bags and shook the rain from His very short, spiky hair. She closed her eyes for a moment an inhaled deeply, drinking in His very presence.

"Welcome home Master." Her voice was soft, and filled with joy.

"Ahh thank you My little one." She leapt to her feet as He began to remove His coat and took it from Him gently, hanging it up quickly on the coat rack. She turned to kneel once more but He caught her up in a crushing hug. She gave a small whimper of pleasure and wrapped her arms around Him, burying her face in His shoulder and hugging Him back with all she had; quivering from head to toe.

"Hmm." His voice was a soft rumble near her ear. "I think My slave missed Me." He chuckled.

"Oh yes, Master, this girl missed You horribly!" Her voice caught in a soft hiccup and He held her tighter. She took several deep breaths and then loosened her grip, leaning back to smile up at Him. "One is so very, very glad You have come home safe Master."

"Mmm. I missed you too. Roads are awful, but after three weeks apart, the God's themselves could not have kept Me away from you, lil' one." His soft words sent pure joy racing through her, her face lit up and He leaned in for a kiss, His lips soft and demanding against hers. After long moments he released her, and led her by the hand to the sitting room off to the right.

"Love the new outfit, by the way." He said with approval. She wanted to melt. His words were like an aphrodisiac to her.

"Thank You Master." she said softly, beaming. He let go her hand and turned to sit in His favorite armchair, next to the warm fire she'd kept diligently burning away in the grate. She moved like the wind as thunder again rumbled loudly outside, grabbing a few soft white towels, and the little silver box she'd set aside for this moment.

"How was Your trip Master?" She asked as she padded softly back to Him.

"The usual." He began, smiling as she sank gracefully to her knees at His feet and, taking up one of the towels, began lovingly wiping off the rain and dirt from His boots. He began to tell her about it, and she smiled softly, only half listening as she traced every contour of the boots, cleaning every square inch of them. He watched her with some amusement...she could feel His eyes upon her as she worked diligently.

When she was satisfied they were pristine, she set the towels aside and opened the small silver box. "At least the train was pleasant, I really must travel that way more often." He went on, as she pulled out the polish, and soft bristle brush. She folded up His pant legs gently and began applying polish to the boots with practiced precision, the brush moving in tiny circles over the soft and supple black leather. She was bent nearly completely in half; thighs spread wide; her face inches from the boots-- examining her work as she went with critical care. She could sense His arousal without looking up, she felt it coming off of Him in waves, making her skin prickle and her tummy tighten in response as she worked. Once the polish was worked evenly in, she picked up the small special cloth and began polishing them with the utmost care.

"How have things been here?" He asked and she smiled.

"Miserable without You Master, but a girl managed." She replied, expertly polishing His boots until they gleamed, quietly reveling in the sound of His voice as He spoke. Setting her implements aside, she leaned down and kissed the tip of each reverently, careful not to mar her work. When it came to polishing His boots, she was lightning fast and efficient. They were perfect. She rose and returned the towels and polish to their original spot then turned to Him.

Something in His eyes made her freeze in her tracks. He was sprawled back lazily in the chair, lounging comfortably, watching her with a look so fiercely intense it made her weak at the knees. Rather then try to fight it, she simply sank to them, her thighs spreading as she went down. She lowered herself to the ground fully, her breasts and tummy brushing the carpet, and began to crawl to Him, her backside lifting high into the air. She moved fluidly, like water, her arms stretched out before her in unison with the movement of her legs, and her breast never left the rug. The skirt trailed between her legs, leaving them completely bare, the mesh brushing against her core with every movement. She was trembling when she reached Him, feeling the heat of His gaze on her.

"Beautiful." His voice was deeper, huskier now, and there was no mistaking the growing erection behind the material of His black slacks.

"Would Master care for a beverage?" She asked softly, coming into a kneel at His feet.

"Later." He said dismissively, reaching to the little table beside His chair. A tremor of excitement rippled through her, making her tremble and a flush heat her cheeks. He caught her sharp intake of breath and paused, His hand hovering over the leash. "Why you little slut." He chuckled in amusement. "I haven't even picked up your leash yet and already your soaking wet, aren't you?" Crimson stained her cheeks as she flushed in embarrassment.

"Yes Master." she whispered, for there was no sense in denying it, she could feel her own wetness as surely as she could feel the power coming off of Him. He laughed outright, and picked up the leash. She moved between His feet eagerly, lifting her chin obediently. She knew what this meant...He would take her to the special room. He always did when He put on her leash.

He clipped the leash to the little D ring on the front of collar and she trembled, backing up eagerly so He could stand, staying on her hands and knees. To her astonishment, He did not rise. Instead He jerked on the leash roughly, making her stumble back toward Him. She scrambled on her hands and knees to kneel between His feet once more as he wrapped the long leather leash around his hand several times. She glanced up at Him curiously, and then heard the unzipping of His fly.

Then she understood...she was to please Him orally....well then why had He put on the leash? When He wanted oral He commanded it, and only used the leash to lead her somewhere else. Her mind pondered the need for the leash even as her hands were freeing Him from His pants.

"Very good, my whore." He said as she bent to lick Him gently, her tongue circling the head of His cock, which stood rigid and beautiful, waiting. No sooner had she taken His head into her mouth, He yanked down sharply on the leash at the same time as His hips rose, forcing nearly all of His cock into her mouth with brutal force. Shock sent her jerking back upwards with a startled, muffled cry. What on earth?? He'd never done anything like that before, when it came to oral, He was always gentle, letting her tease and pleasure Him. What had gotten into Hi—and then He was grabbing her hair with a savage growl, and forcing her back down fiercely, while thrusting up once more. Fear stabbed through her as she began to choke and gag under the force of it, her hands gripping and pushing against His hips as she began to struggle, fear quickly being replaced by something stronger as He ruthlessly began to fuck her mouth with a force and intensity she'd never before known.

Oh Jesus...she thought, as she frantically tried to pull back, panic threatening to choke her even more then the relentless pounding of His cock into her mouth. She jerked back more forcefully, and to her surprise she managed to move backwards a good deal...but He had not released her, He'd only stood up sharply, growling, His hands forcing her head still as His hips continued to thrust relentlessly. She gripped His hips and pushed to no avail, then crawled backward on her knees quickly as He began to step forward, His ruthless grip on her hair painfully keeping her from falling over.

He kept moving her back, His hips never slowing, until she felt the wall at her back...no escape now. She whimpered pitifully and it seemed to excite Him all the more. He began to fuck her mouth renewed force, pinning her shoulders to the wall with His knees. Above her He rested His forehead against the wall, bracing Himself with one arm above His head, His other hand still firmly tangled in her hair. Somewhere in the dazed recesses of her mind, she heard Him moan.

It was too much. It was not enough. She was going to faint; blackness crept in around the edges of her consciousness, and the world began to swim before her eyes. Half of her was a shaft of pure fear and confusion...the other half was responding, even so. That he would want to fuck her mouth so bad....it sent a shiver through her of pure pleasure...but she was choking, she couldn't seem to draw enough air, and she was sure she was about to pass out....she reached up weakly and tapped his flesh three times, one of their safe signals.

He released her immediately, stepping back, panting, as she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air and coughing. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind as she tried to collect herself, gulping in one great lungful of air after another. Tears fell like rain down her cheeks, unbidden...she felt His arms come around her and turned into Him blindly, clinging to Him, His strength, like a woman drowning. He held her for a moment, till the shaking began to subside, then she heard His voice like a rumble in her ear.

"Stand up, slave." He commanded softly, and helped her to her feet. She stood on shaky legs and he turned her gently so she was facing the wall, her back to Him. He removed her top with ease, and then guided her hands to the wall. She braced herself obediently. He pulled back gently on her hips and she stepped back two steps, her arms stretching out to allow her hands to remain on the wall.

"Spread your legs for Me." He commanded, and she complied, tremors racing through her. He undid the string closures on the sides of her skirt and it fell to the floor. Her mind refused to function but she moaned softly when he dragged a fingertip along between her folds. Pure desire, mixed with embarrassment flooded her as she realized how dripping wet she was.

"My, my." He clicked His tongue at her. "Look at this, a sopping wet mess you are. For all your protest, I do believe enjoyed that as much as Me." His laughter stung her, and she remained silent, her cheeks flaming. She felt His hand wrap around the base of her braid, once then twice, taking firm hold. He forced her head back, bringing His face in next to hers, His body pressing to her from behind. She felt His still hard cock rub against her pussy and moaned, pushing her hips slightly back against Him.

"Is this what you want, My little whore?" He demanded, and she quivered. The current of desire and need that swept her was mind blowing. She was helplessly held in the grip of her need to be fucked by Him.

"Yes...god please Master...please" her voice was a plead. He reached a hand around the front of her and gave her pussy a sharp slap. She cried out, jerking sharply. He was not through...He slid his hand over her very swollen lips, and squeezed them painfully into His fist, a low growl echoing from His chest. She moaned in deep pleasure, her hips moving instinctively in a circle over His grip.

"Do not move, slave." He commanded, and then He moved away from her. She could hear His footfalls across the floor. Where the hell was He going?? The need to be fucked pulsed through her with brutal intensity, making her throb. She knew better then to look back over her shoulder and so she remained still, quivering a bit when she heard Him return.

A soft sigh escaped her lips when she felt the tip of His riding crop slide down her spine from her neck to the small of her back...she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation of it, the cool kiss of leather. And then it was moving lower, sliding through her wetness between her swollen lips until it brushed against her clit, making her moan. He began to slide it slowly back and forth, sensitizing her flesh and clit with the kiss of leather. Her hips began to move slightly of their own accord, rocking in counter-sync to increase the friction. She heard Him chuckle, but was too lost in the moment to feel ashamed.

"Little whore." He said, His voice echoing with affection....and then He lowered the crop, and snapped it back up with a hard flick of His wrist. She cried out as it stung into her swollen, tender lips, the pain cutting through her like a knife, mingling with the fierce pleasure. The combination nearly brought her to her knees.