Mimosas

Taking a Rest

Philippe took her hand into his, stroking softly her fingers to her palm. He willed her to wake for him, to open her eyes on her own. He had been told by Marcus, she had been awake off and on since being brought here, but never long enough for any real comprehension of where she was. Each brief moment, her eyes were dulled lifeless, only mere roving glances before descending again to her muted state. He slowly brought her fingers to his lips, kissing each one gently, his eyes searching her swollen face for some movement, some awakening, to bring her to him. His arrival being a day later after receiving the phone call, he cursed the time differences, knowing, could they have been in sync with each other, he might have found her in one of her awaken moments.

He moved closer to the bed, laying his head against the thin blanket covering her body. There he felt warmth coming through from her skin. He could have cried just with this thought, knowing instead of warmth, it could have been cold emanating against this thin covering. Feeling the tightening in his throat, and the sting to his eyes, he placed her hand along side his face, pretending she purposely caressed him, pretended she knowingly hid his emotions, from herself. So serenely she held him. So gracious she was to let him show her the place in his heart, he held for her, without comment or wish to gloat in this worship for herself.

'Oasis, please Oasis, wake for your Master,' he whispered into her palm. With his help, she caressed away the expressions of love coming from his eyes. When Oasis shifted under her blanket, Philippe felt his heart skip into his throat. He raised his head expectantly, searching her face, waiting for her to awaken, and know her delight to see him. He felt suspended in this waiting, like the feeling of holding your breath too long, only having to exhale in order to live the next moment. He wanted to shake her, force her to end this waiting for himself, a torture he never expected to feel.

The door opening behind him, brought his heart back to his chest. He cursed without seeing, the person, who unknowingly made him take this breath to the next moment. As he turned to look, he saw only a blur of white brush by him to the opposite side of the bed.

Sherita, her dark hands so expertly checking each medical intrusion ignored him, while attending her patient. Pulling a pen from her ear, she noted each attachment to Oasis, like she may have been preparing for an important exam. She pulled the hand away from Philippe he was holding, her fingers alongside the wrist intently watching her Timex. Dropping the hand, she stripped Oasis of her blanket emotionlessly, exposing his slave in only the briefest of gowns. Turning away, Sherita, went to the sink to prepare the soap and water to bathe her.

Philippe felt the anger begin to grow, seeing even more the damage from this stripping. He kissed and caressed Oasis' swollen knees, imagining the shock and the pain she must have felt at the moment of impact. Any thought of shaking her was quelled, to see her fully exposed. His sight drifted down her bruised legs along her ankles and feet. Even there, his eyes felt her pain, and felt it even more to see his chain was missing around her ankle. He brushed his fingertips around her naked ankle, an ankle left even more bare without his chain. His anger swelled.

'Are you family sir?' Sherita asked.

The question sounded too loud in the hush of the tiny room, with only the beeps of the various machines, already accustomed to his ears. He turned his head to look at the white clad figure speaking to him. Sherita, her name tag said, attached smartly to her hospital uniform, looked ready to throw him out of the room, if his answer did not satisfy her inquiry.

Philippe looked back to Oasis. 'Family,' he thought. They should have been here. So much of her life devoted to just this one word. He wondered if any of them even knew their beloved daughter was suffering right now.

'Yes, Sherita?' he spoke confidently, 'I am!' His aggravated tone, matching his body language.

He stood from his chair pulled along side the bed, to face Sherita. Her sponge in hand, she looked ready to fire a six shooter. Philippe's own stance ready to stop a speeding bullet. They regarded each other coolly, poised and ready to face off this building duel. Sherita advanced, having a job to do, Philippe stood his ground, having Oasis to protect.

Not put off by his watchful glare, Sherita proceeded her cocked and ready sponge bath. She felt compassion she could not show openly. The bruises, and having access to the medical chart, she knew this one had, thank the Lord, been spared tragedy. Some of the marks on this one were not even close to the consistency for such a trauma, but this was not her concern, nor her intention to know. She could only assume the man before her would understand these fading encounters. Being a nurse, for her, was rewarding. Having the years of experience, had given her the knowledge that care giver was not always only care. Sometimes, she had to be drill sergeant, to get her job done.

'Sir, please. If you would step aside, I could finish much quicker, and leave y'all to your family,' she stated simply, looking directly at his travel worn face. Her compassion felt even further, to see such raw emotions there. She relented a moment, and dropped her six sponge to her side, waiting for him to decide.

Not wanting to leave Oasis, Philippe reached out his hand, and took the sponge from Sherita. He had expected a small struggle, but with the easy release of Sherita's gun, he felt a small relief to be in control of Oasis' care. With Sherita's assistance, he bathed Oasis. His gentle caresses under Sherita's own watchful eye.

'Mon Oasis, j'ai envi de toi. S'il te plait, reveille toi, pour moi!' His continuous stroking along her skin, he was sure, she would awaken. 'Je suis ici mon amour,' he said, bathing her ankle, knowing she would always feel her chain there. He felt and saw Marcus enter the room.

'Where is it Marcus?' Philippe asked him curtly.

Sherita, though not knowing exactly his request, from experience, knew it was a seeking of personal effects. 'There should be a container with her things inside the side table,' she said, moving away from the two of them. 'If y'all don't mind, I'm going to let some light in this room. It feels too much like a death watch in here!' Moving quickly, she pulled the curtains, the light muted by the soft rain outside. She felt able to breathe again, and showed Philippe the drawer to look for the container. Removing the tools of her trade, she left them alone to find what was there.

Philippe searched the container, finding the heavier chain at the bottom. He brought it out, inspected it, relieved the clasp had not been broken. With a gentle hand, he enclosed her ankle, kissing the cold metal against her warm skin. Just having it there again, he felt things more set to right. The new light coming through the window, seemed to absorb into her, rather than reflect itself back. She looked more alive to accept it, and he gave silent gratitude to Sherita for her insight.

'Philippe, it is not as dire as you seem to feel,' Marcus spoke quietly.

'I know, even now, she looks beautiful, like she is just taking a little nap.' Philippe turned to face him. 'It should not have happened Marcus. So late at night, so senseless for her to be out in such terrible weather.' He looked past Marcus, through the exposed window. The last cold snap of winter had released itself to a warm spring rain. He could not help but feel, she would have been safely content at home, had he not left her on her own, for his own business. He knew how restless she became during such absences, knew, no matter the hour or time of night, she would accept her own call from work, and attend to this type of responsibility, with him away. Rubbing his face with his hands, he walked to the window, finding the turn handle, and releasing it fully.

The rains were soft. Falling silent from the sky, gently caressing below. The combined descent of each droplet only heard when in a moment together they chorused their tears in harmony. Philippe listened, allowing what he knew would make her smile romantically, to touch him. The air coming through the window felt rejuvenating to his face. He breathed it in, wanting to savor the aroma of what was pure, what brought balance and pleasure to his beloved's own gardens. Sighing heavily, he reached his hand out, to grasp these tears. Landing coldly, but quickly warmed by his own heat, he imagined them along her upturned face. So uninhibited he had seen her often, sitting in her own little yard, her concern only for the feel of these Spring tears on her face and body. She welcomed the softness, the gentleness, but yet craved the cruelty, and pain just as much. Feeling his hand gather something so soothing, he wanted to punish the sky, for reminding him of the softer side to her.

Unexpected Nirvana

Oasis had done well this time. So much to do with Spring about to break through the walls of Winter. 'Philippe had certainly picked the right moment to be away,' she thought. Exhausted, from tilling, from planting new precious seeds, she lay across her couch flipping through her current novel, trying to find the place she had forgotten to mark off. She really did not feel like reading. She wanted daylight to continue, so she could continue her plunge into the earth a little while longer. Her body ached pleasantly, enough to ease the never ending ache for pleasure, she felt only with Philippe. Laying the book aside, she laid her head in her arms, smelling her own earth smell coming from her pores. With a sigh, she rose, and headed for a bath.

Enveloped in water, her body felt suspended. She let her mind float along with her body, envisioning her last night with Philippe before he had gone for his trip. So cruelly he had whipped her, taking her collar and using it as a thin leather strap. He had tied her hands above her, to the over the door clothing hanger, attached to the back of her closet. It protruded almost an entire foot, allowing her body free movement, but strong enough to hold her hands in place. She stood facing away from him, the full length mirror showed her not only herself, but how he seemed to fill the room. Her body felt tense, and she breathed deeply to try and calm herself. His play with the collar along his leg, a gentle slapping, she felt the throb inside of her with each sound. This sound only brought her arousal, and anticipation of what she felt and saw in his eyes. When he approached her, the reflection showed his serious face, her body trembled visibly.

'Oui, Oasis, quiver for your Master,' he said, breathing into her neck, his eyes finding hers in the mirror. Softly, he caressed her body with this collar elongated for a strap. He knew her arousal was building, her half opened eyes, and shallow breaths, telling him so. She moaned when he reached one hand in front of her, clasping the end of the collar between her legs, and ran it's smooth leather between, the already wet lips of her sex. Bringing it to her lips he said, 'Kiss it slave, lick it even wetter with your tongue.'

She complied, the tips of his fingers sliding hard against her open mouth, letting her taste, only quickly, the sweetness already there. Feeling him move away from her, she moaned her discontent of this, her mouth pouted seductively for him. Half lidded eyes saw him raise his arm, strap in hand, above his head. She drew her breath in quickly expecting and enormous sting from such a height. When the firsts were only teasingly mild against her bottom, along her thighs, she relaxed a little into the arousing game. Her moans were of pleasure, but became louder with frustration, without the use of her hands to touch her aching clit.

'A week Oasis,' he said, waiting patiently for her to come out of her focus of pleasure, to the sound of his voice. She stood awaiting another, mildly stinging, forcefully arousing caress. The next came searing across her bottom cheek, bringing fire instantly to her senses, snapping her focus immediately to him. The look of shock and pain in her eyes, being forcefully brought back, made him want to strike again. Gaining control of his hand, he said again, 'A week Oasis.'

'Yes, Philippe, I know,' she said, half turning to meet his eyes without a reflection, under her raised arms.

He could not resist. The strap came down, striking along her turned hip, the tail landing wickedly along her smooth swollen lips. Her cry, a sharp loud hiss, drove lust into his being, but only a lust to hear her beg. 'You know Oasis, but I want to know, you will remember to care for my slave.' With these words, he began fully. A torment against her body, but also a dance, as she twisted and turned away from each caress of his collar. When her tears began, he could see in the reflection, the light from the lamp illuminating each one sliding down her cheek, shining it's home where her body would catch it. He tried to catch them too. Welding the collar against her skin, like a prize when both collar and tear would meet at the same moment.

'Philippe!!' Her cry so shrill, he had to breathe a moments air before looking at her. She was poised, a remembered half turn, but this time her head was down, gulping breaths, seen through their movement of her breasts. Her body a patchwork of marks, even down to her ankles, his chain a brilliant contrast against her skin and the light. She cried still, her eyes closed to her reflection and to him. 'Please, Maitre'please,' she whispered, through her pain clenched teeth. 'I will remember.'

'Oui, Oasis, je le sais' he gently said. Approaching her, she lifted her face to him. What he saw in her reflected eyes, could never be put into words. He attached his collar, once again around her neck, and began a slow caress of his tongue along her quilt of marks. Reaching her clit, he placed himself in front of her, back against the mirror, and licked her to pleasure, while she strained against her bound hands down to him.

The phone ringing, brought Oasis back from her remembered pleasures and pain, and brought her soft fingers out of giving her another. She raised out of the tub, drying quickly with a towel, then wrapping it around her to reach the phone in time. She hoped it was Philippe, but hearing another familiar voice, her thoughts were vanquished. Listening to the other end, she felt trickles of water run between her thighs, water captured inside of her, from the sucking of her arousal, being released slowly, as her mind came back to the present. Hearing the request at the other end of the phone, she said smoothly, 'Of course, I will be there.'

When her car flipped side over side, her last thoughts were only, 'Mon Philippe, I am so sorry.'

Master Takes Control

With a flutter of eyes, and a deep moan, Oasis moved into knowing. The ceiling was false white, almost an apparition of being close to death, but the sounds of the machines around her, and her senses, told her, she was still of this world. Moving her head even slightly brought her waves of confusion, but when her eyes focused, even a small amount, she saw her beloved sleeping in the chair next to her bed. His hand had fallen slightly, but still determined to grip her fingers, in a sleepers embrace. She curled her hand against his own, trying to pull his fingers into her own. She felt as weak as a preemie baby trying to encompass this grasp, but her movements were enough to stimulate a little awareness to his hand, and he pulled them both together, even in his sleep beside her.

'Philippe,' she whispered, with an effort. Pulling her other hand, with IV attached, she closed this around his and her own, giving her voice more force. 'Philippe!' she said again, gripping both hands with all the strength she could manage.

His awakening, much like her own; he clambered from sleeps embrace, confusion infused around the edge. 'Oasis!' he exclaimed, looking into her open eyes. Raising from the chair, he eased his hand from the two she had around his, and enclosed her face with both of his own. Kissing her gently, his eyes were bright, the fog of sleep gone waking so suddenly. When he saw her drifting gaze sinking again into an unknowing blur, he took her by the shoulders with each hand, near to shaking her awake, when Sherita came into the room.

'What in the name of blazes are you doing?'?' she yelled at him. Quickly, she pushed his hands away and stood between the two of them. Her expression a mixture of shock, and quick anger, she was tuned automatically for any changes in sound, to the purring machines. When Philippe raised his hand and took a step forward, Sherita stood even more erect before him blocking his way. 'I don't know what kind of family you are, and really don't care either, but if you touch her in that way again, I will make damned certain you are not allowed even inside this building again!' The alert flush in her face made her dark skin seem purple, in her sudden anger.

'No, you don't understand!' His voice urgent to have Oasis come back again. 'She, she',' he broke off, swiping his hand across his face, trying to make Sherita know his need. Turning his back to her, abruptly in frustration, he crossed the room to the open window. Fists against the sill, he tried to regain his composure. The light of a new morning barely grazing the sky with it's importance, he stared into the new sun feeling lost, and out of control.

Sherita was calm, even in the light of such drama. Looking at his back, the stance of exhaustion, told her, he meant no harm in his actions. So many times she had seen the bereavement of loved ones, even after the crisis had passed. Sometimes, even the one's who loved so much, could instigate harm without meaning too. Though it was not her place to explain a condition, she felt in this instance she needed to.

'She is going to be all right. I know the doctors have not been in here, but really their absence is a good sign, you see' It is only the medications now that keep her sleeping. She really needs to. If she were awake, she might want to do more than she should. Do you know it was the seat belt that saved her, but it was also what caused her the most damage' It kept her inside the vehicle. Kept her from flying out from one of it's rolls around, but each time it kept her in it's grip, it pushed and bruised, and broke what is inside of her. She has to be still, she has rest!' Sherita, did not understand why she felt such a connection, or such a need to be compassionate with this case. It could have been, that though every attempt to notify genuine family had been made, there had only been two to come for this one. One that would not leave her side, another that came back every few hours for some minutes. 'Look'let us take care of her the way we know best. When the doctors reduce her medication, her pain medication, she will be with you. I know this.' Sherita waited, knowing the moment had deflated, and feeling better to express her own diagnosis.

Composure, Zen, whatever it is named, filled him. Even before Sherita's words, it had been explained to him, Marcus' words were more potent than any. He knew his beloved was in good care, only his own ego in the way of needing control. Realizing this, was it's own good medicine. Breathing in the morning's air, he decided the next adventure in Oasis' life with him. 'Sherita' We are leaving soon. I think she will need you in the days to come. I want you to come with us, but I will ask. I am taking her away from here, and I want you to come also, and be as efficient for her as you are right now. She is my possession, have you already guessed' You will be her private nurse, and will only be needed in the manner of which you are trained. Will you come?' He asked. His left brow raised quietly, his return of authority, a reassurance of his own. The look of shock and confusion from his change of demeanor on Sherita's face, made him laugh. A full laughter, adding to her expression a look of bewilderment, reflecting her question of his sanity. He gained some composure, still smiling, and asked again, 'Will you come?'