she was beautifully bare, bound by thick, leafy vines which curled around her ankles and her wrists to spread her limbs wide and taut. The vines then snaked all around the big massive boulder which had been chiseled down with great care to have a flat surface upon which she could rest. A pillow of petals representing seemingly all colors of the rainbow cushioned her barren head.
In the dim light of the awakening day, as the first calls of the birds wafted on the eastern breeze, she shuddered, tugging gently and sensually against the vines which confined her to her prone position atop the chiseled block of stone. The subtle chill of the air still held a trace of the recent winter and a scant scent of the rain which had graced the landscape during the night.
her pale skin was testimony to her interior nature, for years taught to serve in her capacity as a maid and as a toy for the men who visited her Master's manor. Despite the secluded area of this secluded planet in this nearly-forgotten region of the galaxy, although only He would see her most of the time, she was more than content to spend the majority of her life indoors, especially during the cold, cold winters, when every source of heat within the mansion still could not dispel the slightest of chills which would harden her nipples to thick points upon her breasts.
Yet, here she was, enjoying a rare excursion to the hilltop to the north of the mansion. The semi-sentient vines had been trained well, well enough that they retained their knowledge despite her absence during the lengthy period of bone-chilling cold. The spongy texture of the bluish-green plants felt at once strange yet familiar encircled around her wrists and her ankles. As she pulled against them and reveled in her captivity, the gentle scented breeze arousing her soul, the vines countered with enough force to hold her firmly in place yet with enough slack that she clearly would not be able to escape without her Master's assistance.
That single drip seemed to cling to the edge of the candle, unwilling to escape the source of its warmth and plunge downward to grace her writhing bound figure. her smoky eyes half-clouded by the lust which always simmered deep within her and boiled in His presence, she gazed up at the candle, at that single small point of melted wax, that nearly-unnoticeable bulge of red which stubbornly remained with its melted counterparts.
Red: His color. He was like a god to her, so red was fittingly appropriate. To be marked with red or made red by Him was an incredible honor. It made her feel owned to be marked in such a manner; it made her feel as if He had claimed her by placing His red seal upon her flesh.
Yet, it was only a symbol, for His true claim had been placed upon her heart so many years earlier, during her escape from a life of true bondage, when her body was used and abused not for pleasure, but because she was low-born.
He had met her in using her. she had been so thoroughly broken by the Others that she could barely will herself to go through the motions of even feigning enjoyment of the act, and suddenly, something within Him had changed, His eyes softened, and instead of being just sex, it was suddenly something more.
He had saved her, in more ways than one. He returned often, specifically requesting her services. Unlike the Others who were High-born, He took His time with her, slowly nudging her out of her permanent despair and carefully extracting the woman locked within her feminine shell, and for the first time in her life, the pleasures of the flesh truly became pleasurable for her.
His gentle teaching had not gone unnoticed, for she overheard the Others commenting that she had become more sensual as she was used, her actions more enticing, making it harder and harder for the Other Men to hold back when embedded within her body. she took a secret pride in those praises, and while she still resented being used by most of the Others, she awoke each morning wishing that He would return and request her services again that day.
