Her heart racing in her chest, cold, naked in the rain. Hungry for him.' Will he come tonight? Will he leave me wanting?' It's been too long, a couple nights at least and she is frightened, hungry, thirsty, desperate. 'Please, Master.'
Her chain taught, the ground beneath her a muddy bed from rain and her frantic circles. She tilts her head to the sky, extending her tongue, to catch even a few drops, to calm her thirst. The rain sending a chilled wash across her face, clearing the muddy streaks of her tears.
Curled in her shelter, merely a four foot square fiberglass roof held up by three and a half foot tall, two by four posts. Hugging her knees, legs crossed at the ankle, jaw clenched she whispers "Please. Master."
Ears straining, trying to hear through the rain, eyes trying to see through the lightening, hoping for any sign of him. Unable to stay awake, she rests, stranded in fitful dreams of loss, a deep heartache the continuing theme.
At first she thinks it's a dream, the touch across her lips so gentle. The wind in her hair? Rough hands at her shoulders shoving her, confused she topples to the ground. A body pressing against hers, one hand holding both of her wrists, another at her throat. Her eyes fly open as her sex is impaled, seeing only a curtain of hair.
"Master!" She cries smiling.
"Master!" As he thrusts into her.
"I live to serve you!" As his fingertips dig into her flesh.
"Use me," and, "Thank you" as his breath grows ragged in her ear.
"My sweet animal." Is his reply as he spends himself deep inside her.
She lays there, cheek pressed into the mud, lips curled in a thankful grin. She feels his weight lift from her, and expects him to leave. Her heart breaking, both from the loss of him, and from the physical needs she gladly tries to ignore.
Food, water, the words running through her mind through everything, a constant battle for her attention. He moves toward her, his hand reaching again to her neck. In one swift movement he releases her collar from the chain. Pressing his arms into the soft mud beneath her and cradling her, placing gentle kisses on her forehead.
Standing, his pet still pressed to his chest, he carries her indoors. Her face tucked into his shoulder. The light in the living room splashes across her face, the purple tinge to her shaking lips, and the silent tears of gratitude slipping across her cheek sending a stab of emotion through his heart. Bringing his lips to hers for the first time, he feels the chill in her very responsive kiss.
He places her on the couch, and brings her the softest blankets he can find. It's been four days and he knows it. He brings her beef broth in a mug and makes sure she sips it slowly. The mug emptied, he lifts her again.
He carries her to the bathtub. He knows the only fragrance she can stand is natural vanilla, and he has laced the warm water with it. With a soft sea-sponge he cleans her, attending to every detail of her body. Washing her hair, and taking care to massage the conditioner into her scalp. She sleeps in the warm water feeling safe in her Master's care. Silent grateful tears sliding down her face as she doses.
When she wakes she is laying in his bed. Down comforters and pillows surrounding her, and his sleeping head in her lap. She brings her hand, first, to her neck, the collar removed brings both a feeling of relief and one of grief, as it is her dearest friend, a constant reminder of his devotion, and then to his hair, lacing her fingers through it, petting his tresses as he has done so many times with hers.
He wakes, taking her hand he presses her palm to his cheek. She feels the tracks of his tears there and his words pour from his lips. Apologies, promises, words of regret, the roads were closed, he couldn't get through, begging her assurance that she believes he would never leave her so long on purpose. Fresh tears spilling from both of their eyes they lay together that way, him hugging her legs, her hand in his hair, both secure in their absolute need for each other.
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