The Crucible

As the thought came to him, he lowered his blades, moved back to the alcove, and returned them to their place. Picking up the remote, he closed the alcove door and returned the room's heat to a more comfortable level, then went to retrieve his clothes. Sweat dripped from his forehead and nose as he snatched up his clothes. Wiping it off, he smiled to himself over the thoughts of the coming weekend. Turning, with the clothes in his hands, he walked out the door that had been left open. He appeared to be a totally different person--heavier, taller, younger, stronger, and more at peace. Like a lion, the king of the jungle, he was filled with confidence of his supremacy.

The hall was short, with two rooms off to either side that he passed without notice. At the end was another flight of stairs, newer in construction and not near as steep as the ones he had come down. They had been built with the house. He bounded up the stairs as fast as he could, taking them two at a time. A keypad at the top accepted the same code he had used to enter, and he chaffed at the less than a second it took for the door to unlock. Setting the remote on the keypad, he opened the door, stepped into his home, and closed the door behind him.

His eyes absorbed the entire view of his domain with one glance. It was spotless and perfect, just as he knew it would be. Everything was in its place, including her. There she was, just a short distance inside the door, kneeling at his feet, much the same as he had while he meditated in the basement below. Her smile lit up the room, shining from her eyes as well as her lips. His heart soared at the sight. His eyes devoured her, like a starving man might at a five star, banquet table. Passion pounded in his heart and groin at the sight, but he held them in check.

Dropping the clothes he still held, he knelt on one knee, in front of her, held her upturned face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. She trembled like a bird caught and held in the hand, her lips parting at the touch of his. After a long kiss, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, smiled into her eyes, and whispered "hello most precious". She took his hands in hers and placed them on the collar about her neck that he had made for her, and replied "welcome home Master. All here is as you desire. May it bring peace and joy to you". "It does, precious", he replied. She squealed with joy, laughing, and threw her arms about his neck at the conclusion of the greeting ritual they shared, every time he came home.

He folded her in his arms and drew her up as he stood. Holding her above the floor, arms tightly about her waist in a close embrace, he buried his face her hair. After a long minute, she pushed away from him, leaning back so she could face him, still suspended over the floor. With a twinkle in her eye and her nose wrinkled, she informed him, with tart respect, that he needed a bath. Remembering his long time abroad and his time in the Crucible, he, too, became aware of his sweat soaked body.

Laughing, he crushed her to him, and rubbed her naked body against his, despite her teasing half-hearted protests. "yes precious I do!, and now so do you! ", he replied, allowing her to finally push out of his grasp. She took him by the hand, telling him one was prepared, if it pleased him. Still laughing, he gave her ass a slap with his open hand and told her it did and to lead on. As he followed her to the hot water she had prepared, he smiled again to himself . . . It was GOOD to be home.

The End.