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She Waits

Coming home from yet another hopeless encounter with a man who knows nothing about submissive women, she feels the darkness of loneliness and despair creeping into her body. She wonders for at least the hundredth time why she ever had to meet him, why she had to fall in love with him, when he could never be hers. She has long since stopped raging against the gods, and accepts her fate and burden of sadness.

But she cannot forget. She cannot forget how good they were together. How much they shared. The way their spirits fit together. His voice caressing the deepest part of her being. The way he claimed her as his own against her will and stole her soul, just as he said he would.

She goes to her room and prepares for yet another night alone with her dreams and fantasies filled with him. She had offered her submission, and he had taken her soul. The memories of their time together flood her mind, the sound of his voice, the touch of his fingers on her skin, the fire in his eyes as he commanded her surrender, demanded total control, and captured her love forever.

Outside the window, the storm rages with a violent fury. The high winds whipping through the trees, the lightening cracking through the sky with its awesome power, the thunder deafening, the rain pouring down in torrents, streaming down the window panes in dense sheets. Flickering candles in the room cast long shadows and corners of total darkness that feels so right. On this night, nothing but darkness will do.

She lies on the bed and she waits as she has so many times before. And just as futilely. She knows in her heart and soul he is gone, but her mind refuses to accept that she will never see him again. Her entire being cries out for him, for another moment of ecstasy under his spell.

She lies naked on the bed, her wrists wrapped in red silk, binding one to the other, held tauntly overhead, her legs spread wide, the valley between open and waiting. In her mind, she travels back to the time with him, reliving the joy and pleasure of submission to him. She hears his voice in her mind, so sexy, so compelling, commanding her to surrender. Deeper and harder, she falls under the spell of her own mind and the longing eating away at her soul. And she waits.

Her body writhes on the bed as her passion builds, twisting and turning, aching to hear the words that will release the animal inside her and bring her to fulfillment. She is lost in the mental sensations of her dreams and memories. Lost, once more, to him.

She screams out in frustration. Her own cries startling her into awareness. Suddenly she is very alert, more so than she has ever been in her life. All of her senses alive and tingling, her eyes glowing in the darkness with the fever of her love. Her heart quickens as she senses his presence. Has he finally returned? Has the power of her longing drawn him to her side?

Rising from the bed, she slowly walks toward the window, her white skin gleaming in the candle light, her long red curls glowing copper. A sudden flash of lightening lights the night, illuminating her ghostly face through the window, her eyes wide and staring into the night.

Wait!!! There. At the edge of the woods. The dark, shadowy figure watching her. Her blood pounds through her veins, her mind whirling, as she peers into the blackness. Perhaps her eyes are playing tricks on her. She strains to find the image through the torrential downpour.

Another crack of lightening. Yes! There he is standing at the edge of the woods, almost hidden in the shadows. She cannot see clearly, but can feel his presence, feel the power of his hold over her. In her mind, she hears the deep sultriness of his voice. “Come to me my slave. Come to me now.”

Very slowly, she unwraps the red silk binding her wrists and opens the window. The blast of wind and rain caressing her nakedness, reminding her of his fingertips playing across her skin. Her mind is void of all thought, and suddenly everything is right in her world as she climbs through the window, her eyes never leaving the wavering form of shadows.

“That’s right, my slave, obey your Master and come to me.” His voice encourages her to continue. Her feet sink into the soft, rain soaked earth, the wet grass soft underneath her bare toes. The red silk scarf wrapping itself around her in the high winds. Her red hair is soon clinging to her skin, wet and soaked. Her eyes gleaming, afraid to blink, for then she might lose him yet again.

As she crosses the yard toward the woods, the image retreats into the woods, beckoning her to follow. She doesn’t even notice the briars scratching her legs, the fallen pine cones cutting into her feet. She obeys and follows. Sightless and without conscience thought, she is drawn by the feeling of his presence deeper into the woods until she comes to the giant oak tree to which he once bound her body and used her as his slave.

She leans against the ancient bark and she waits.

Slowly she feels the shadows and darkness creeping over her, rapping itself around her. His presence fills the air. All of her being is engulfed by the shadow of his memory. The branches of the shrubbery surrounding the oak lash out at her naked body until her breasts and thighs and stomach are covered with welts. Blood seeps from the scratches to be quickly washed away by the pelting rain. She is aware only of him. Finally he has come for her. In her mind, his voice whispers, “You are mine. You belong to me.”

Unseen forces whip the scarf of red silk around her wrists and pull her hands high over her head to press against the tree. Her fingers search aimlessly for something to grasp but only find rough bark and empty wetness. His voice urges her, “Open for me. Open your body. Give me what is mine.” Spreading her legs wide apart, she arches her body forward leaning further back against the tree, offering herself to the elements, to the shadows. Her clit is swollen and throbbing exposed to the whipping briars, the sting of the rain. Her hips thrust in the age-old rhythm driving into the hardness of her phantom.

The fire inside her blazes into a raging inferno. The wind, rain, and storm pounds against her body, but all she feels is his fingers, his hands, his breath, his lashes driving her passion higher and higher. The needles of rain against her nipples are his fingers tormenting her with pinches. The branches are his flogger tearing into her flesh. The valley between her thighs is swollen, pulsating, ready. Her body is writhing in the night, the shadows engulfing her becoming darker and denser, driving her to the edge. Again, she hears his sensuous voice gripping her fevered mind, “Now is the time for the ultimate surrender. Now you are forever mine.”

Her mouth and eyes fly open as the strongest, deepest orgasm of her life grips her body and mind. Wave after wave of spasms pulsate through her muscles, wracking her body as nothing ever before. Every nerve ending electrified and burning. An ear-piercing scream is wrenched from her soul, as her mind goes blank.

A brilliant streak of lightening zigzags through the sky. The burst of light illuminates the scene below. A glowing ivory body gripping an ancient oak, being assaulted by the ever worsening storm and the surrounding flora, as if enthralled by a pagan ritual of old.

A deafening clap of thunder drowns out her screams as the storm and her spirit become one. The soul stealer and his shadows have finally claimed that which he stole long ago.

The horrible storm dies away as dawns breaks and the morning sun shines down on the devastation. The giant oak tree split all the way to the ground, laid open in terrible sacrifice to the forces of the night. Her lifeless body lies draped backward through the crevice in the tree. Her mouth open as if in a scream, her eyes closed, a look of pure ecstasy on her face. She waits no more.