Silk The Submission

She entered the room softly on bare feet, midnight blue silk of her robe skimming her curves and fluttering around her thighs with the gentle sway of her hips. She saw him sitting in the chair, candlelight glinting off the silk of his black robe. He held a crop in one hand, tapping it into the palm of the other. Their eyes met and electricity crackled in the air between them. Her arms reached up to loosen her hair, the lustrous black mane flowing about her shoulders, tumbling to her waist and releasing a faint fragrance of honeysuckle. She smiled when she saw the fire leap into his eyes and heard the low growl deep in his throat. Her hands went to her waist, untying the belt that held her robe closed. With a shrug of her shoulders, the robe slipped from her body and and made a puddle of silk around her feet.

She stepped toward the bar in the corner. Choosing a chunky rock crystal goblet, she filled it with red wine from the carafe. She walked back toward him; falling to her knees before him. With her head bowed, she held the goblet in both hands and offered it up to him.

His eyes traveled over her kneeling form: the black hair falling around her shoulders, candlelight glinting on her tan skin, soft limbs outstretched offering him wine. Laying the crop in his lap, he took the goblet with one hand and one of her hands with the other. “Look at me, pet.”

She raised her head to meet his gaze — his dark eyes penetrating her green ones. She trembled, as she always did, when she met his eyes. “You’re late, pet,” he stated flatly.

Her eyes filled with tears as she dropped her head, “Yes, Master.”
He arched his eyebrows, “Have you no apologies to make, no excuses?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head, “No, Master. It was inexcusable This girl deserves whatever corrections Master feels appropriate.” The black hair fell around her face as her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs.

He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss on it. She raised her head quickly and looked at him with wide teary eyes. He smiled, “Good girl. I would have been very disappointed if you had offered excuses. That you know no reason is acceptable pleases me. Your lateness is forgiven, little one.”

Relief, gratitude and devotion battled in her eyes, “Oh! Master is far too kind to this girl. This girl thanks Master.” She bent and placed her lips on his foot as her tears continued to fall. He savored the sight of the creature he owned kowtowing to him.

In her present position both the brand on her hip and the slave tattoo on her neck were clearly visible. His flesh began to stir at the signs of ownership. He laid the crop on the table, his disappointment in her was far more punishing than the leather wand on her flesh. “Lap, pet,” he whispered.

She rose to her knees, drying the tears that had fallen onto his foot with her hair. She climbed onto his lap and snuggled into his shoulder. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled his scent. He stroked her hair, soothing her. She shifted herself in his lap, straddling him. Her hands moved up to knead and stroke the muscles in his shoulders, easing out the tensions of the day. Fingers probing out all the tightness; her eyes locked on his. She smiled when she heard his low contented growl and felt his muscles relax and warm under her adoring touch. Her lips moved in a soundless healing chant. Her hands moved around to the back of his neck, fingertips kneading and circling the tissue on either side of the spine. Her devoted fingers moved to the sides of his neck, firmly swirling the corded, tight muscles there.

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