"It is a merry chase you've led Me, My baby."
I spun around at the voice I knew so well. Much to my disbelief, there He stood; tall, dark, and wicked. My throat closed up and all thought process came to a halt, save for one; what was He doing here?
"Have you nothing to say? Not even a hello?"
I swallowed hard, watching Him come closer. "Hello," I managed. My voice was tight and unfamiliar to me. By the look on His face, it was unfamiliar to Him as well. Obviously not the welcome He was expecting.
"Feeling awkward, My little one?" He nodded curtly, all knowing, all supreme. "It is understandable. We will require a period of adjustment after so long an absence, but it will all come back."
I could do nothing but stand there while He circled me, His voice steady and sure as always. There was small comfort in that.
"Are you well?" He asked this from directly behind me, His large hand stroking through my hair in a caress so familiar, it was all I could do to remain standing upright and not sink back against Him.
I nodded in answer.
There was a brief moment of silence. I could smell Him. Man; strong and determined. His confidence knew no bounds. He had at one time been everything to me. And His love had been everything I had ever wished for. Then the cold came and He was gone. The winter wind chilled me to the bone and with each breath I took a piece of my heart would break and crumble. He wasn't there to keep me warm.
"Do you still paint decadent pictures with words?"
I blushed. I could feel the heat creep up my neck. I nodded again, in answer.
He loved my stories. He would read them and devour me. He was my muse, my inspiration. He took me to heights that fueled my creativity and I wrote into the late hours of the night. They were dark tales of decadence and erotic adventure. His hunger was raw and vicious, His cravings of the taboo and forbidden. I soared in His arms. I took flight to places of pleasure that I had never known existed. And always, always, always, He was there to catch me.
He laughed. "What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" His hand slipped down my neck softly and continued until He came to a barrier in the center of my back. "What's this?" He asked, knowing full well, as He pulled the strap and let it pop against my skin. I flinched at the unexpected pain of the metal clasp hitting me.
His voice changed. Even with just those two little words, 'what's this' I noticed it, the slight hardening, and the minute chill. "You know better, pet, than to wear undergarments here in this place."
There it was, that possession, that ownership. I would know it a million miles away. It was always there in His voice, or His touch, or His eyes, but many times, it was present in all three.
"You do still belong to Me."
It was not phrased as a question only offered as statement of fact.
I shook my head.
His hand fisted in my hair and pulled my head back. "What was that?"
His voice was getting colder. "No," I said as loud and as strong as I could, which really wasn't very, much to my dismay.
"No? Hmmm. That's interesting, baby, since I never released you."
Ironic how in that moment, His grip on my hair let up and He let go. He walked around to face me. I had no choice but to find my voice. "We didn't have a contract for You to release me from."
His smirk was just that, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes showed barely a hint of warmth. I shivered in smite of myself. "Didn't we? Yes, I do believe we did," He said, taking my hand and pulling me behind Him to the stone bench at the center of the garden. He sat down and parted His knees allowing me to stand between them. His hands rested on my hips and His eyes beckoned my attention. "We had a contract, My dear one. It was a contract written in sweat, in your woman's blood, in our mingled bodily juices. It was a contract signed and imprinted in the sheets on My bed. It was a contract when you called Me Master. And it was a contract when I called you Mine."
His rough hands slid up my dress and ripped the soft satin panties from my body. "These will be burned."
His hands reached around my back, unhooked my bra, and with a hard yank, He had my full breasts free. He tossed the bra to the side with my panties. "That will be burned as well."
Silent tears streaked down my face until I could no longer keep my heartache quiet. "Why are You doing this? After all these months, why are You doing this? Why did You come back?"
"Because you belong to Me, little one. You know as well as I that there is nothing more true than that."
His hands, only moments before rough, were now gentle as His fingers caught my tears. "But You left me," I cried. "I sent you letters and You kept silent. I tried to find You, but You were nowhere to be found."
"Letters? I never received any letters from you. And there were times when I could be here, that I was, waiting for you, and you never came."
My tears kept falling, my mind trying desperately to make some sense out of His words. His hands cupped my face and held my head steady. His eyes bore into mine, daring me to deny Him. "I never got your letters, baby. I did not leave you. And I did not release you."
"Will you release me now?" The words were no more than a whisper, but His reaction was louder than thunder. His hands tightened against my head and He pulled me forward until I fell against Him. He positioned me in His lap, turned toward Him. One hand dropped to hold my hips, the other around the back of my head so that I could not look away.
"I will not release you. Ever."
