the slave awaits

THE SLAVE AWAITS

Her arms splayed out before Him, her hair surrounding
the ground like a fur covering the earth.
Her heart beating hard against the dirt, she hears
every beat and knows it is for The Master she kneels for. Her fingers trace along the cool earth as she settles her knees into the wet grass. The sun beating on her back, she kneels naked for the whole world to see. For this is the way He wants her she is not ashamed. The air breezes through her leg, and softly engulfs her fire. She does not move, for she is as still as a butterfly sitting on a branch on a summer's day. The world is silent, she hears herself breathe in deep -- exhales slowly. Her breasts become erect from the cold blades of grass, yet she does not move.

THE MASTER PONDERS
He awaits her, making sure she is given time to
understand her place. He reclines in His chair and sips his glass of wine. Slowly tickling every taste that touches His tongue. He ponders on what she is really doing there. If what she is offering is true, or a childish attempt for attention. He sets His glass back on the table and traces the top of the goblet with His large fingertips. Imagining tracing her pink full lips any moment. He does not move, although He wants to. Minutes go by.

THE SLAVE
Hours go by... At least in her mind it seems that way. She still awaits the moment He opens the door, accepting what she is offering. She feels like a little girl, awaiting the swimming pool, as her mother lectures her about not swimming after eating. She wants to jump in, feet first, letting all free. She is not allowed and she waits.

THE MASTER
He rises from His chair, peeking out at her between the blinds. She is beautiful, like a porcelain doll. She awaits Him. He longs to touch her satin skin and feel the fire inside of her. To know that it is real. To kiss the lips that will soon belong to Him.

He sighs loudly, speaking out loud to Himself.
Property, she is My property. He is proud to own
such beauty. He paces near the door, knowing the
second He opens it, He becomes a million roles.
Daddy, Master, Keeper, dreamer. He slowly opens the door and walks towards her. The silence could be cut with a knife.

THE SLAVE
She hears the door creak open and His footsteps get closer. Her eyes do not raise, her head never moves. Her breath lessens and the air is hard to find. Goosebumps cover her entire body and she shivers. She is not cold, she is alive. Her body becomes alive in that very moment. She knows that this is it. She will be His. He will place that bind tight around her soul. She will not be free, He will own her. Everything about her will be His. She waits.

TOGETHER
He puts His feet near her head. Aligns them
perfectly, as not to step on her beautiful placed
hair. Stands there quietly as not to disturb the
essence that circles around her. The heat can be felt off of her. He softly places His hand gently on her back, as not to startle her. He bends near her ear and is taken back by the smell of her skin. She takes in one last keep breath, as she hears Him whisper to her. "Rise my new beauty". He lifts her to her feet. Her knees are weak beneath her. He lifts her into His arms and carries her into the rest of her life.