Slave to OnebyHeidi123©
Sitting quietly on the front porch swing, she feels the night air brush gently across her bare skin as her fingers move softly across the collar that encases her silky white neck. Her long brown hair sways with the wind as it falls down her back and is moved slowly from side to side as the swing rocks. The only sounds heard, other than those of the animals of the night, come from the bells that fall softly from her ankle. Her eyes close and her ample bosom heaves as her mind begins to focus on him.
Her fingers fall a bit lower as they begin to trace the cross that hangs beneath the collar that is his. She is his slave and knows she has been as long as she has lived, but it took him to help her find that place. She had always believed that her sexuality and her need to be owned were something to hide and not be proud of. Through him, she began to understand that she was made to be who she was. She was made to belong to him, to serve him, to please him, to learn from him and to grow with him. She was placed here on this planet to be what he knows that she has always been - slave. Slave to One that understands the needs and desires that come from being who she was sent here to be. Slave to One that knows that she only feels the true fire of life when she is nothing more or less than slave to his every whim and desire.
Her fingers fall gently down her body as she begins to feel more than think. Slaves react and feel where the rest of the world thinks and tries to make things happen. He knows she needs him as much as she needs food, water, sleep and all of the essentials of life. She cannot survive without him just as she cannot survive without those things. It is only when he has fed her that she is able to move correctly in the realm of the "nilla" or "normal" world. It is only when he has breathed life into her that she can find the sleep and peace she needs to cope with the rest of her life.
A burst of cool air rushes across her skin and brings her briefly back to the present. Looking around the wooded area for people is more habit than need. She is alone as always. She is alone as her naked body moves to and fro with the soft swaying of the swing. Looking down, she realizes how she would look if there were anyone around. Her eyes roam as they take in the pale skin in the darkness. Eyes slide down over the full breasts that ache always for his touch and his caress. Her eyes move lower to the round hips that beg for him on a continuous basis, to the curve of the mound that is only alive when he is using it for his pleasure. Looking further, she sees the legs that move best when on a mission of his desire. This is her body, or it used to be. It no longer reacts as she wishes because every inch of it belongs to him now. This body only responds and reacts when he wishes it to. It will completely ignore her needs and desires to please him.This is the body of a slave.
Rising from the swing, she begins to move slowly across the porch. Her eyes search for the lights down the road that will signal his presence to claim what belongs completely to him. Her heart already races at the mere thought of being in his presence. How long will he stay with her? How much use will he get from her? How far will he take her this night before he returns to the life in which she has no part? She shakes her head softly as she realizes that none of that matters anymore. The only thing of importance is that he desires her and owns every part of her. It no longer matters if he is here for 10 minutes or 10 years because it is only in being what he needs that she is free. She knows he will feed her need of use well enough that she will survive until he returns again. He always takes care of her and she has no doubt He always will. He understands her and who she is even better than she does.
He knows the desires that are created when he speaks or looks upon her. He understands her need to serve His every whim and desire. He understands her needs so well that she no longer questions what He says because she knows that it is only with him that she will be fulfilled. He knows of her aches, desires, needs and passions. He understands that it is only with his control that she is free to beg for the release he can give her. He alone can take her to the place of ecstasy that she lives in search of the ecstasy that comes when she kneels at his feet and feels his wrath, his passion, his need, and his desire. It is a passion that rises within her at the mere sound of his voice or touch of his hand. He knows that he can break her in an instant if she fails him and could cut off her life force if he went away. She understands that as well now. It is why she is here; waiting for the next moment of fulfillment; waiting for the time she is once more his need and desire.
Her body arches slightly as the ache grows and the anticipation of his arrival courses through her veins. Her head turns slightly as the soft glow of headlights moves closer. A subtle moan forms in her throat as she realizes it is him. He is coming for his slave. Her eyes are glued to the car as it pulls up in front of her. Her naked body steps off the porch, the bells beginning to chime as she moves toward him. Watching him step out of the car and close the door makes her head spin in the joy of her existence. Her deep brown eyes lift to his as the burn begins to consume her entire being. Lowering her lashes, she falls softly to her knees on the hard ground in front of him. Bending at the waist, her arms stretch out so that her fingers are resting just in front of his feet. Her head presses into the gritty sand as her body begins to shiver, not from cold but from the heat he has brought from deep within her. Softly parting her lips, she whispers from her place before him, "Welcome home, Master. What may this slave do for you?"