Message-ID: <14678eli$9808232152@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14678.txt> From: miramalin@aol.com (MiraMalin) Subject: Coming Home (rom ff d/s nosex) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <1998082302442500.WAA18288@ladder01.news.aol.com> This is an erotic story. It may contain descriptions of consensual sexual activity outside of a standard bedroom setting between members of the female sex. If this is going to offend you, I'd advise strongly against reading any further. The story may be archived as long as there is no charge for access to it, it remains unchanged and I am given credit for the work. Thank you Lara and mistress for your comment on this effort ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sitting there, staring through the vase of mauve flowers, she reflected on the meaning of the owner's anxiety and distress. She looked out through the net curtains at the roadway, parched with the summer sun and sighed. She raised one leg to place it on the window seat and wrapped her hands about her knee, thighs slightly parted as were her lips in readiness to do some service to her distressed mistress. She played with the blue collar of her dress and wondered, why her owner sometimes seemed to want to hurt her by giving her the pain. Was this a fair return for the service she had offered or was this a gameplay, a tactic and a way of bringing her back to the chateau? The slave's chest rose and fell pushing the blue material up and down, like the sway of the tops of the trees in the gentle summer breeze. She envisioned that scene through the narrow windows of her bed chamber and watched in her mind's eye, her owner's sorrow. Would that she could blow into that desolate chamber and lay an arm around her shoulders. Would that she could kneel again at her side and curl her body against the lap she so often desired. There, her head resting on her owner's lap, her arm reaching out to caress the soft belly and looking up to the chest, rising and falling, that was the best place to be. She had thought often, sighing with satisfaction as she nestled again in her place. The owner might lay a hand on the pet's head and reach down to cup her breast, feeling each light beat of her heart, each stirring of her breath, in its own way both a heaven and a hell. Once, she seemed to fit so neatly against the owner, her breasts pressed to her, her thighs parted and accessible to the wandering hands and tickling fingers. The incredible softness of skin, warm and vibrant beneath the touch. The slope of her back, the curve of her hip, the perfume of her hair were all potent aphrodisiacs. Soft almost limpid eyes, half closed in passion, pouting lips that murmured a name - but whose name? She was a gift, a precious gift of love and with each expression on her face she had renewed the right of ownership. Tenderly, the pet pressed closer, wanting again, knowing they would never have enough. Sensing the pet's wakefulness, the owner paused from the musings, eyes open, smiling down at her in the dying embers of the fire in the hearth. Holding the rebellious head in the hands, cupped there watchfully, the pet was caressed gently, taking command of her senses and control of her passions. Every inch of the girl's body was known and claimed . The owner knew of other's desire for this net filly. In the owner's mind there was also knowledge of the recollection of touching the sensitive skin of those breasts. The remembrance of provoking those passions and tease the girl to that wanton pitch, with roseate nipples erect and waiting. Then , to have the pet sigh contentedly when hands dipped lower, grazing along her velvet haunches to the downy soft triangle between her thighs. There lay need. There lay the desire. Would that the pet could be taken now, it would be no less glorious than before. To cover that elusive body. To fit between those damp thighs. To search for that hot centre and to invade it with the owner's flesh. Could that heart be saturated with love? Could those desires and lusty hungers be satiated with the owner's desparate urgencies? Would they cradle together in loving embrace and know once again that sense of coming home to the chateau where love burned with a fire of passion, brighter than any they had ever known?. M'sieur le Margrave de MiraMalin -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>