Commanded to dance she humbly obeys, her heart bared for all to see. |
Silently she sat stitching, patching the shirt her Master had torn last evening. She was startled out of her reverie by His voice as he commanded that which is his. "Come dance my jewel." Hearing His rich baritone issue the simple command, the slave girl turned to be sure she had heard Him correctly. When she saw that sparkle of mischief in her Master's eyes, she shook her head, realizing He had indeed told her to dance. With a soft trill, her voice floated to him, twinged with hidden tones of trepidation. Despite her fears though, He would be obeyed, and she nodded, putting t he sewing away and rising to her feet. "As my Master wishes" She could be as mischevious as her Master and decided to show that spirit with her choice of dance. With the fluid grace of a woman that has surrendered to being owned and embraced her slavery, she glided her way to the wall behind the slave pole. Dainty fingers curled around the cold chain that hung there, taunting her with its very presence. Silently, she lifted the chain from the peg and pivoted on slender ankles, her eyes scanning the room to see where her Master had chosen to watch her dance from. With steps of silent obedience and absolute submission, the slinking creature crossed the spance that seperated her from her Owner. Like a strand of silk tossed to the Earth, her body fluttered to the ground, kneeling before Him, her heels upturned and her curves resting upon them in silent embrace. A heartbeat later the chain was lifted in upturned palms and offered as a gift to Him so that He might lock it to the ring on His seat. Once His calloused hands had removed the chain from her feminine grasp, she lowered her head. Slender digits then swept aside the curtain of auburn that hung over her marked neck, revealing the leashing ring on her collar in a silent request forher Master to tether His property into place. Once the chain was attached and the sensual slave was locked into place, willowy arms fell to rest at the luscious curves of her sides. Abject and still, she remained at her Master's feet, preparing her mind for the journey ahead. She took a few deep breaths and readied her body so that it might fully tell the story she asked of it. Slowing her breathing and calming her racing pulse, the slave knelt in perfect submission before the One that had tethered her. His captive, His prisoner, His property, and His helpless female. She was powerless, defenseless, and vulnerable, chained in place and inescapably at His mercy. Her lips curled in a gentle smile as she reveled in the moment at hand. Suddenly her head lifted, and those ebony pools lifted to Him. Swirling in mischief and rapture, those orbs danced and shimmered, painting her heart's picture as vividly as if the canvas were tangible. In brazen admiration and open display of her soul's cravings, she rose off her heels and lifted herself to her knees. Her hands slipped to her hips cupping them for a moment, then in silent adoration those same ivory palms began to move over the perfection that was presented before Him, slithering like a serpent's tongue, her hands roamed her body. Her eyes never left His and she offered to Him all that was rightfully His. Entreating, pleading, begging for Him to reach out and touch her, to join in the dance of the piteous creature at His feet. But He did not join her. A soft melody of harp and lyre trailed along with each move of the girl's hands, reminding one of childhood days of summer picnics under the noonday sun, and the gentle laughter of days gone by. Frustrated and agitated that He had refused to even lean forward and so much as touch her, she stood to her feet. In defiance and rebellion, she turned her back to Him. Her russet tresses were whipped around her satin form, snapping against it with the kiss of a whip. Hands on her hips again, she began to tap her foot in exasperation as fury, indignation, resentment and confusion all ran through her. The longer she stood there, the more she stewed and more impatient she grew. The music turned fierce and ominous. The gentle lyre and harp, replaced by the pounding of the drums and crash of thunderous cymbals. Having had enough, she snorted and shook her head in disgust. Stepping forward in an attempt to escape she felt something tug on her neck. That loathsome chain commanded her to stay put! That metal irritation would not let her flee as she now wished to do. She wanted to run, to seek out release and stop this torture. The world around her had vanished, and she was now blinded by rage and contempt. Her hands reached to that chain, that abomination that held her against her will, that metallic beast that refused to let go of her. Reaching and grabbing the chain in both hands, she tugged on it, to no avail. Tears streamed down her face and she screamed out in horror as the thing still would not release her. The pounding of the drums ceases, and the cymbals begin to quiet, turning to a soft undertone of vibration as the girl stands there contemplating her next move, her next plan of escape. Like morning dew upon the petals of a rose, these prisms of sorrow clung to her skin. Dropping her hands in surrender at her side, she sighed and sank to her knees in defeat. Since she could not flee her Captor, she would bend Him to her will, make and mold Him, sculpt Him to be what she wanted Him to be. She would seduce Him, and thereby gain power over Him. With this thought in mind, she turned to look over her shoulder. Lashes of innocence batted at Him and her lips pursed into a seductive invitation. Begging to be kissed, almost demanding His touch now, playing to the core of all Men and their lust for flesh, she began to work her plan into motion. Lifting a finger to her lips, she caressed the flesh in slow strokes of hidden promise as a purr of near feline quality dripped from her lips. Sweeter than honey and twice as addictive as any drug, her voice carried to Him in caress on silent hands of shadowed winds. "Come and play with Your pet my Master. Savor Your jewel and teach me what it is to be Yours, in all its glory." With subtle twists to those tantalizing curves of sensuality, she turned to fully face Him, trailing that finger down her lips, past the lifted chin, and on to the gleaming marker that adorned her throat. Her head fell back as this touch reached her throat and she moaned in tempting contemplation. In abandonment to the moment at hand, her heart began to beat in its own steps of an invisible dance. The music changed once more. A slow purr could nearly be felt in it tones as the girl's body began its devilish plotting. Weaving a web of tender and dangerous snares, moving one down paths of unseen traps, and trails of glorious joy. Slow and mysterious the tune began to coil around the room, wrapping all those within in its embrace of anticipation. The chain clattered against the floor and shook her from her reverie. Dropping her hands to her lap she lifted the jade orbs of ensnarement to meet those foreboding pools of Dominance. In that moment though, the deciet left her and she could no longer plot against this Man. Her heart would not allow her to bring any kind of harm, shame, or displeasure to Him. Whether the world around her approved of it or not, and whether she had intended it to be so or not, she loved this Man. The music went silent, allowing her to focus on Him without a single distraction, without even so much as a single note to take her attention from the One of her destiny. It seemed even the fabric of life itself stood in reverence before what it bore witness to at this moment in time. Again her cheeks were caressed by diamond tears. This cascade was not that of sorrow though, but of complete joy and total fulfillment. Lifting the chain from the floor, she cradled it to her heart, tenderly accepting the position He had placed her in. Scooting to Him, her knees gliding across the floor, she sighed happily. Upon reaching His feet once more, she placed the chain to His lap, and her head lowered. Her arms draped the chain in a visible acceptance of its power over her, and her wrists crossed. Bound now, and presenting herself in humble offering, she stated softly, "I am Yours, my Master." |