Nights in White SatinbyDarkDreamerwithHope©
Inspired by song recorded by The Moody Blues
Looking around the room, she made sure the candles were in place. So many colors, shapes and sizes, yet they fit with the décor, adding a hint of mysterious shadow in one spot while dispelling shadows in another. Colors, blending with orchids arranged amid baby's breath, complementing framed artwork hanging above them, enhancing deep rich hues of hanging drapery and reflecting off gleaming woodwork, each had its place and was ready for the match. Her eyes gleamed in the soft light of the chandelier and she ran nervous fingers over the back of his chair. Breathing deeply she closed her eyes and let the scent of flowers, fragrant wood oil and pine fill her senses. Everything was in place, only the candles and firewood needing to be lit.
Walking to the door, she paused beside the dimmer switch, lowering the lights until only the crystal laid out on the table sparkled quietly next to lustrous china. With a quiet sigh, she slowly pulled the doors shut and walked across the hall to the kitchen. Within this room light reigned, shining off sparkling clean counters and gleaming stainless steel appliances. The rich, creamy aroma of a full bodied Alfredo sauce wafted from the pot simmering on the stove, melding with the crisp, sweet bouquet of freshly cut herbs.
Taking another pot from the cabinet, she filled it with water then placed it on the stove for the fettuccine and added a dash of salt and a splash of olive oil. From the refrigerator she retrieved the bowl of mixed greens, a plate of sliced mushrooms and a small container of finely minced, freshly cooked bacon setting them on the counter next to the waiting skillet. Turning, she picked up the container of freshly cut herbs and olive oil setting them on the counter with the greens and mushrooms. Dessert, a fresh baked New York Cheesecake, sat on the island needing only its raspberry topping to be ready. His favorite foods prepared just the way he like them, needing only a few last minute preparations before serving.
Glancing at the clock over the door and noting the time, she took a pack of fettuccine from the cupboard and turn on the flame under the pot of waiting water. After another quick look around to make sure everything was clean and in its place, she left the kitchen. Walking down the hallway she caught sight of herself in the mirror he had placed on the wall at the end of the hall. It was a large, full-length mirror and accurately reflected her long, coltish stride. Biting her lip and sighing she slowed until her walk was once more graceful and fluid. He had placed the mirror there just for this reason, to make her slow down, remember her place.
A doorway opened on her left and she turned into the room. This was her room, fully feminine, decorated in soft creams and sheer silks. She walked to the corner vanity, fingers already working on the buttons of her blouse. Stopping in front of another full-length mirror, she watched her shoulders twist sensuously sending the blouse flowing down her lithe form to be caught by one hand and hung on the waiting hanger. Eyes darkened with desire as she thought of what was to happen tonight. Her full, luscious breasts quivered as she breathed softly, reaching behind her back to unclasp the sheer lacy brassiere. Released, her breasts swayed gently, firm rounded mounds capped by dusky rose areolae surrounding full, thick nipples.
Folding the brassiere, she set it on the vanity and reached for the button of her skirt. Nimble fingers made short work of the button and zipper and eased the waistband down. A seductive wiggle sent it sliding the rest of the way, past curvaceous hips, to the floor. Bending gracefully, she retrieved the garment, catching the reflection of her luscious bottom. Blushing lightly, she straightened and hung the skirt next to the blouse, trying not to look in the mirror and failing. The faint dusting of pink darkened and spread to the tops of her breasts as she remembered what he had said when he hung the cheval glass. Turning, she squarely faced it and looked at her reflection.
Clad only in a lacy white thong, she planted her feet, shoulder width apart; straightened her shoulders, causing her breasts to rise full and proud; and stood with arms loosely at her sides. Mentally counting backwards from twenty, she slowly took a deep breath, held it for a five count then just as slowly released it. For the full twenty breaths, she gazed at her reflection, examining every inch of her lightly tanned flesh. Head to toes her eyes traveled as she continued breathing, looking, memorizing. When she completed the exercise, she hooked delicate fingers in her panties and pushed them past her hips, letting them fall to the floor, then fluidly stepped out of them. Another graceful retrieval had them in her hands and folded in a matter of moments.
Laying them on top of the brassiere, she took one more look then picked up the brush. After a quick stroke through shoulder length, glossy black strands she stopped. Bowing her head, fingers tightening on the brush handle, she sighed thinking, 'at this rate I will never be ready in time.' Taking another deep breath, she straightened her back, squared her shoulders again and slowly began brushing her hair. She counted each stroke softly under her breath and let her mind wander. 'He will be home soon and I am not nearly ready. Why? Why, does this always happen to me?' "Thirty-five, thirty-six," she slowly counted. 'It happens because I can't remember to go slow, to follow his instructions, that's why!'
Grinning, he watched her from the doorway, being careful not to let the mirror catch his reflection. 'Reminder to self, we need to work on her attitude. Perhaps I can work that into my plans for tonight.' His eyes began to twinkle and had she been looking, she would have known he was having deliciously wicked, devious thoughts; but her eyes were glazed, looking beyond the room into memory.
" Gazing at people, some hand in hand, just what I'm going through they can't understand." Her voice was soft, seductive, as she sang the lyrics to her favorite song.
"Just what you want to be you will be in the end." He softly sang, chuckling when she jumped and dropped the brush.
"Damn..." Her startled look was priceless. Not for the first time, he wished he could capture this moment on film.
"Tsk, tsk," he admonished her sternly. "Ladies do not curse."
"Yes Sir," she meekly answered, sneaking a glance at his face. "You...."
"And..." they both spoke at the same time. Pausing, he pinned her with his eyes. "And," his voice emphasizing the word, "ladies do not rush!" As he finished speaking, he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. He wanted very much to go to her, gather her into his arms, and kiss the tears away; but he could not, not at this time. He hoped the ache he was feeling did not show in his eyes.
"Yes sir," her voice soft with tears. Watching his face she continued, "I am sorry Sir."
"Sorry for what little one?"
"Sorry for interrupting you Sir." Tears flowed down her pale cheeks and dripped from her chin. She closed her eyes tightly in an effort to stem them. Hands clenched at her sides, she swallowed the sob trying to escape her throat.
Unable to watch her struggle, he paced across the room, took a deep breath and turned back to her. "The fact we both spoke at the same time was not your fault," his voice lightened into a teasing tone, "that is unless you have learned to read minds while I was gone." Raising an eyebrow, he watched, hoping to see a smile, even a teary one. He walked back to stand before her; his fingers reached for her chin, lifting it so he could look into her eyes. "You have no need to apologize." He spoke firmly yet gently.
Lifting her chin slightly, she nodded her understanding. His thumb caressed her softly as their eyes met; he could feel her trembling beneath his touch. Using the fingers of his other hand, he threaded them through her hair and pulled her to him. She rested her forehead on his chest, letting his hands and body, control and support her. Biting her lip, she dared to reach up and place her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath her palm. Resting his cheek on her silky tresses, he smiled and released her chin, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer. He held her until her trembling subsided. Then loosened his grip and stepped back.
Smiling down at her, he brushed his hand across her cheek, pausing to cup it a moment as he told her, "Go wash your face little one. Then you may finish preparing dinner."
"Yes Sir," her smile was radiant.
'Even teary eyed she is beautiful,' he thought to himself, ' Beauty I'd always missed with these eyes before.'
Stepping aside, he released her to do his bidding, the ache to hold her, quiet for the moment. He watched as she left the room, then turned and headed to the kitchen. Unknown to her, he had already walked the house and completed his usual inspection. Pleased with what she had done, he planned how to reward her as he waited for her. Not only had she followed his instructions to the letter, she had also planned a meal of his favorite foods. It was obvious that all she had done today was done as a labor of love. Not once has he regretted claiming her for his own.
He turned the flame back up under the water, then took the lid from the sauce and stirred it slowly, inhaling the wonderful aroma. The water was just starting to boil when she walked into the kitchen. Motioning to the pot, he stepped back to allow her access.
As he watched her cook, wearing nothing but a smile, he grinned. She looked so delicious; he was tempted to steal a taste, only his self-discipline kept him from reaching for her. This was a special night and he had everything planned out; and tasting her now was definitely not part of the plan, though he wished he had considered it when making his plans. Moving to the area designated for liquor, he opened the bottle of wine she had chilling, Duo Sauvignon Blanc, and poured two glasses. Putting one glass on the counter where she was working, he took his and walked to the breakfast bar. Leaning on it, he watched her and waited.
"Thank you Sir," she said as she noticed the glass. Lifting it to her lips, she paused to savor the rich bouquet, green pear and white peach with a delicate floral aroma and just a hint of white pepper, then sipped letting the wine linger on her lips and tongue. She smiled, "this is perfect Sir."
"I'm glad you approve my little one. I thought you might like it. I have a slightly different one for our dessert." He grinned devilishly at her.
"Sir! You are n... planning on getting me drunk and taking advantage of me I hope?" she asked teasingly, taking another sip.
"Perhaps," he replied, giving her his most devilish look. "I have yet to ravish a woman as beautiful as you. It might be fun." He almost laughed at the look on her face, it looked as though she could not make up her mind whether she should like the idea or be shocked. 'Ah, that has her thinking. I believe I will just let her wonder about that for a while,' he thought.
Shaking her head, unsure how to take his remark, she poured a bit of olive oil in the waiting skillet and turned on the flame beneath it. Stirring the fettuccine, she retrieved a piece and walked to the sink. Rinsing it beneath cold water to cool it off first, she took a bit and nodded, it was just right. Retrieving the pot, she poured the pasta into a colander to drain, rinsing it lightly with hot water, and then returned to the skillet where the olive oil was emitting its slight aroma.
Sipping his wine, he gazed at her quietly, enjoying the peaceful quiet broken only by the sound of cooking utensils. He loved watching her cook; it was one of the rare times she moved with the fluid grace of a lady. Her usual coltish quickness disappeared the moment she stepped into the kitchen. Now if only she would learn to move this way all the time, he would be very pleased. He knew she tried and also how hard it was for her, with the way she had grown up; but he was willing to help her and be patient while she learned. Smiling he thought, 'I could do anything, say anything, and it wouldn't phase her, not while she is cooking. It's as if she is were in a completely different world.'
Pouring the chilled bacon into the hot skillet, she lifted the pan slightly, shaking and tossing the bacon lightly to heat it evenly. Next, she added the mushrooms and continued flipping the contents. Her deft movements and technique made it obvious she not only knew how to cook, but also had taken classes at some time. When the mushrooms were just the right color, she added the greens and fresh cut herbs, continuing to toss the ingredients until everything was cooked just right. A quick flip of her wrist and the contents slid into a crystal-serving dish. Turning off all the flames, she turned and took the pasta, pouring it into another crystal dish. Lastly, she gave the sauce a quick stir and ladled a portion into the last crystal bowl.
Glancing at her Master she smiled, "Dinner is ready Sir if you care to take a seat in the dinning room."
"Shall I light the candles while you bring in the food?" He asked her.
"Please Sir," she answered with a soft smile.
Nodding, he picked up the bottle of wine, both glasses, and leaving the kitchen walked across the hall to the dinning room. She turned and picked up the china serving tray she had ready. Placing each serving dish carefully on the tray, she took a quick look around, and then added the cheesecake and bowl of topping. The dirty bowls and containers were put in the sink waiting to be rinsed and placed in the dishwasher. The skillet and pot from the pasta sat on the stove cooling down. There was nothing left to do but eat. She picked up the tray, taking care not to spill or jostle the bowls, and walked to the dinning room.
Stepping into the dining room, she paused, her eyes roaming over the room. She smiled softly, pleased with how the candles lit the room, giving it a subtle romantic glow. Master had left the chandelier dim and lit all the candles. Walking to the table, she placed the dishes to the left of her seat, knowing he would want her to serve.
"The room looks wonderful little one," he told her as he rose from lighting the logs in the fireplace. "You did a marvelous job; I am very pleased."
"Thank you Sir," she smiled. "I am glad it pleases you. I wanted our anniversary to be as special as the day I came to you." Blushing, she set the tray on the sideboard and moved, with grace and poise, to stand behind her chair.
Walking over to stand behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "The room pleases me. The meal you prepared pleases me. You please me." He told her softly, stressing his last remark slightly. Thumbs slowly stroking along the base of her neck he thought, 'This past year has been the happiest of my life and tonight you will learn it is only the beginning.' He could feel her trembling beneath his fingers; knew she was wondering what tonight would bring. "Close your eyes my pet." His voice, soft but firm, he continued, "Stay where you are and keep them closed until I say you may open them."
"Yes Sir," she replied softly. Triggered by his use of 'pet', the tone of his voice, and his command, she slipped into subspace, shivers rippling through her lithe body.
Stepping away from her, he went to the door and turned the dimmer all the way down before walking around the table and stopping opposite her. He let his eyes drink in the sight of her, backlit by the multitude of candles. Black hair flowed, like delicate strands of webbing, around elfin eyes, teasing high cheekbones and full red lips. Long delicate fingers rested lightly on the back of her chair as candlelight flickered, outlining the luscious curves of a fully mature woman. Full breasts rose and fell, quivering, with each breath; nipples darkened with desire pointed proudly forward. Her eyes were closed, but he knew their usual cerulean hue would have darkened to the deeper blue of an evening sea.
The evening had only begun, but the sight of her standing there quietly, waiting for his commands, completely under his control, fanned his smoldering desire. He wanted to take her right there, right then; but knowing how much time and thought she had given to this evening, he kept his passion in check, reminding himself that he had all night to use and enjoy her. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out; and then walked silently out of the room.
Standing quietly, she waited patiently. She knew he had made special plans for this evening as he always did when there was a holiday or special day; though what those plans might be, what they may entail, she had no idea. She felt as if she were floating; she loved the way subspace made her feel and wished she could stay here always. She felt like a kite, soaring high above the ground, the wind pushing and pulling her gently through the sky; controlled only by the string held by her Master. Her lips parted with a soft sigh as she thought of her Master.
It had been one year ago today that she walked through the front door, bold and confident, only to be told to disrobe and kneel as soon as the door had shut. While she knew she was coming to serve her new Master, she had not expected the reception he had planned. After she knelt, he handed her a list of rules and told her to memorize them immediately. Luckily, there were only a handful, but a very thorough handful. Once she could recite them from memory, she was allowed to rise and begin her service.
Expecting to be used that evening, she was sent to what was to become her room to sleep alone. For weeks, he only commanded and watched her, never touching, until she began to despair and wonder what she had done to displease him. Then one night, unable to bear the pain anymore, she went to him and knelt, asking what she had done or not done to be punished by his distance. In tears, she begged to be allowed to serve him fully, pleaded to be used, only to be sent to her room to sleep alone once again.
The following night he came home and called her to his study. Entering the room, she knelt at his feet, watching as he picked up a long slender box. He handed the box to her and told her to open it. Doing as instructed, she opened the box and gasped. A slender, delicate leather collar rested on cotton batting inside the box. He asked her once if it was her true, honest wish to serve him completely and fully. When she whispered yes, tears filling her eyes, he lifted the collar and placed it around her neck, telling her it was never to be taken off. Nodding, she smiled through the tears and asked permission to hug him. Laying her head upon his knee, she wrapped her arms around him and cried silently, calming slowly as his hand stroked her hair, petting her gently. Once her tears dried, he took her by the hand and led her to his room. From that moment on, the nights she spent sleeping alone in her room were rare.
Sighing softly, she smiled as she remembered that night. It was the beginning of the most wonderful year of her life, one she would never forget and always cherish. Moments later she heard music and felt her Master's hand on her shoulder.
"You may open your eyes pet."
"Thank you Sir," her voice husky with remembered passions, she opened her eyes to see Master taking his seat. Stepping to his side, she took his plate and prepared it with fettuccine and sauce. The small bowl to his left, she filled with greens. Then, after pouring more wine in his glass, she stepped back to stand behind her chair.
Smiling softly, he told her, "thank you pet, you may sit now."