She came to the room alone. It was dark, musty, and dank. An almost fetid odor mixed with the dust.
She stood in the doorway unsure what to do. Her eyes struggled as it became accustomed to the darkness until finally she felt confident enough to walk in.
She went straight to the bed.
The covers were straight and tidy, but the scent of lavender that had always been present was gone. She touched a bedpost fondly remembering the times one of her wrists or ankles had been bound to it. She caressed the wood longingly, tenderly, her eyes beginning to water.
Quickly, she wrapped her arms around herself.
"No, I will not cry. I am happy for Master, I AM!"
She turned from the bed, the memories still swamping her. The times He stood over her demandingly bringing her to great need. The times He came to her tenderly, filling her with so much love and joy.
Slowly she turned towards the large, over-stuffed chair her Master had been so fond of sitting in. She ran her hand along the arm, up the back and across, then down the other. Then she knelt beside it.
In the kneeling, the longing became so overpowering she couldn't stop the pain. It tore from her throat and poured from her lips in a howl, the tears streaming down her face and not for the first time. She fell prostrate where His feet would have been and wept inconsolably.
Finally, when it seemed that there was no tears left, she raised back to kneeling. She ran her hand over the seat still smelling Him there. Simply soap and water. No cologne, yet masculine and strong.
Her hand came back dust covered and she found herself staring at it, the feeling of loss threatening to put her back on the floor. She remembered the times she'd spent on her knees at just this spot bringing her Master pleasure with her mouth.
She loved His cock, she worshipped it. He and His cock had been her universe. but no longer.
He had explained that there was a New One. He no longer had time to spend with her. She understood this, right?
With great determination, she grasped the arms on either side and dragged herself to her feet. She lifted her head high and gave a indignant sniff.
"She may be new, but she hasn't the devotion... at least not yet."
Bolstered by the thought, she turned to the fireplace and the rug on the hearth. She smiled a soft smile as she remembered the hours spent making love on that rug. The heat from the fireplace seemingly fueling them to greater heights.
She placed her hand on the mantle and found the ashes from their last fire. Shaking her head, she picked up the andirons and began the task of cleaning.
She tidied it up and set the logs for the next fire. She wouldn't be there when it burned. It would be the New One. So she made doubly sure she constructed it so that it would burn properly.
