I was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. I had on my newest apron, a perfect addition to my emerald green swing dress and as I chopped, I hummed a little to myself. Being in the kitchen, preparing food for Him is one of my favorite places to be, second only to being with Him. He would be home in an hour, just enough time to have dinner ready, the table set, and to make sure I looked presentable for Him.
Thinking about being in position at the front door, waiting for Him to arrive in nothing but the lingerie He had picked out before He left for work made me smile. He had been terribly busy lately, bringing His work home and spending the entire evening in His office after dinner, trying to keep ahead of it. For two weeks I had gone to bed alone. I had been missing His company in the evenings but tried not to let it bother me too much, especially since He was always home on time for dinner no matter what.
I dropped the vegetables into the soup on the stove and turned the heat down to a simmer. Removing my apron and hanging it carefully, I went to the bedroom and ran my fingers over the lacy bustier with satin trim. I undressed and put up my hair, jumping into the shower for a last-minute scrubbing. When I finished, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and sat at my vanity to touch up my makeup and hair. I put on His favorite lipstick, slutty red as He called it. When I was finished, I looked at myself in the mirror and when my eyes fell on the thin silver collar adorning my neck, I could feel the prick of salty tears in the corners of my eyes. I clutched the tiny silver lock between my fingers as I fought back the tears. I felt so hollow and my heart ached to sit at His feet while He watched TV and feel the gentle stroke of His hand on my hair. I didn't know if I could handle going to bed alone one more night.
An alarm from the kitchen pulled me out of my daze, and I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and hurried back to the oven. Still in my towel, I checked the soup, adding a few more dashes of seasoning before putting the loaf of bread I had made earlier into the oven. Setting the timer, I returned to the bedroom, dropping the towel in the hamper on my way past the bathroom. I dressed in the delicate lingerie, enjoying the feel of the nylons sliding over my smooth legs. Finally, I put my heels on, sprayed myself with a light perfume and made it back to the kitchen before the final alarm. I turned off the burner under the soup and pulled the loaf out of the oven, delighting in the perfectly browned crust.
As I set the table, I kept one eye on the clock, and at two minutes to six I went to the front door. At the door, I went to my knees and placed my upturned hands on my thighs. Bowing my head, I focused on my breathing, trying to clear my mind and prepare myself for Him. After a few deep breaths I heard His key in the lock and felt a pleasant little quiver of anticipation in my belly. As the door swung open, I kept my eyes on the floor, hungrily eyeing the smooth leather of His shoes as He came across the threshold. I inhaled deeply as He closed the door behind Him, the scent of Him filling my nose and making me whole again.
As He stood in front of me without moving, the minutes dragged. I began to get uncomfortable, wracking my brain for something I may have forgotten to do. Not being able to come up with anything made me even more nervous, and my heart started racing. Suddenly, His hand came into view, reaching between the veil of my long curly hair to gently grab the little lock that I had clasped earlier as if it were a shining beacon of pain. I felt my breath catch in my throat and suddenly I felt more naked and exposed than ever before. He dropped the tiny lock and the tiny thud on my breastbone felt like a thunderclap. He walked around me into the house, leaving me in position.
I trembled as I maintained my position on my knees, my thighs beginning to burn from the effort. I could hear small noises as He moved around the house, and not knowing what He was doing was torment. I could feel the fear creeping through my belly, certain that I must have missed something. I began re-living the entire day from the moment I woke up, but still could not think of any protocol I had broken or a chore I had left undone. The table was beautifully set, dinner was ready, and I was clean, ready to serve, and wrapped up like a delectable little present for Him. But still the fear remained, and began to grow, forcing me to try and re-live the previous days, weeks, months for my implied transgression.
I felt the pressure in the air change as He walked up behind me, His presence looming over me and clouding my frantic thoughts. At the light touch of His fingertips on my exposed shoulder I felt an electric warmth spread like wildfire across my skin. I felt all my senses open up to His authority, my ears could hear His breaths as if He were whispering into them. My nose inhaled His fragrance, a musk that was distinctly Him and felt like power incarnate. My skin shivered with anticipation from His delicate touch. I could see Him in my mind's eye as if I were floating behind the current tableau, taking in the ownership of His stance. And on my lips, I could taste Him as if He had just kissed me.
Suddenly my mind was calm, secure in the knowledge that whatever I had done wrong He would correct me and punish me because He owned me, body, mind, and soul.
