The Diaries of Ayesha

"I'm sorry Mistress. I didn't mean to keep you up too late.", I said rising and reaching for my ever present briefcase before she stopped me with a motion of her hand.

"You're not going anywhere Michael. Take your clothes off and kneel before me.", she commanded.

I was somewhat startled. What did she have in mind?

I did as I was told and folded my clothes neatly and waited before her kneeling, head bowed.

She stroked my head and then I felt my collar being attached around my neck and the click of the snap lead of the leash.

"Come along.", she said rising and tugging on the leash.

I scrambled behind her on all fours, struggling a bit as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, but still staying at her heels all the while.

She led me into her bedroom and attached the end of the lead to the bedpost at the foot of the bed, and then opening a drawer of the nightstand, removed a length of chain and a pair of fur lined bondage cuffs and set them on the floor next to where I knelt.

"Stay!", she commanded and walked out of my view.

I heard water running in the other room and could hear the somewhat hollow sound that a toothbrush makes in someones mouth. I was still very curious as to what she had in mind, but kept my head down, knowing she could be watching.

I heard soft footsteps approach and then saw her reach down for the chain and cuffs she had placed there earlier. She slipped the chain through a loop on my collar and placed the cuffs on my wrists, then fastened the chain to them.

I could move enough to reach my waist with the chain through my collar, but no lower.

"You may look now if you want Michael.", she said walking past me.

I looked up and saw her dressed in a white silk gown, sitting on the edge of her bed as she lit a pair of candles and blew out the match with a sharp breath.

She walked to the door and switched off the overhead light then slipped under the covers. I knelt there, watching, uncertain of my place or duties that night.

She removed a book from the nightstand and opened it to a place she had marked with a red silk ribbon and started to read, ignoring my watching eyes.

"You may massage my feet now.", she said, not looking up from her reading.

I struggled into position and moved the soft furry covers aside to find her delicate feet, and strained to put my hands in a proper position to rub them.

By stretching my lead to it's maximum, I managed to get into a position that allowed me to touch her feet without strangling myself, and soon lost myself in the pleasure of giving the woman I loved a foot rub worthy of her stature.

I wished I could touch more of her body. I wanted to kiss her feet and legs, to tongue her most private areas. I cut that thought off sharply. She deserves the best. And then a slightly illicit thought crossed my mind. I was her slave. I was the best.

Well, maybe not. I reminded myself of the times I had failed her.

And I remembered over everything the purity of the love we shared. That connection between our souls that had bound us together

I concentrated on rubbing her feet, on absorbing the pain and tension of her day, taking that into my hands, and then releasing it.

I felt her slowly start melting at the firm touch of my hands on her feet and soon she yawned and placed the ribbon back into the book to make her place and set it aside.

"Thank you Michael.", she said sitting up and stroking my head.

"Thank you Mistress for allowing me to serve you."

I could see the smile in the candlelight and felt the love she had for me, tangible at that moment like a barely seen mist in the morning to the inner eye of my loving soul.

She slipped out of bed and went to the chest at the foot of the bed, and pulled out a soft pillow and a blanket for me and ordered me to lay down.

I did and she tucked the blanket in around me as if I was a small child, and then brushed my forehead with her lips.

"Good night Michael.", she said, laying down in the bed and pulling the covers to her.

I laid there looking at her from my position on the floor and said nothing for fear she would hear the desire for her in my voice.

She rolled over and blew out one of the candles, leaving us in near darkness. I laid there watching it, focusing my eyes on it to relax enough to sleep.

I finally drifted off to sleep, lulled by the candle flame and her regular breathing.

My restless mind had other ideas however and I had dreams, dreams I'd tried to hide even from myself.

I wasn't sleeping at the foot of the bed in my minds eye, I was sleeping with her, my arms around her, protecting her from whatever dangers lurked in the night.

I dreamt of being chained below her, to have her shower me with her golden wine, to be permitted to lap it from her finger tips.

A flash of horror and fascination, seeing her whipped again during my training, watching the beauty of her pain, and how she proudly bore it.

A touch of envy for her lover, given something that I would be forever denyed.

Something that , if offered , I would be forced by my own pride to refuse.

I love you Mistress, I cried in my dreams.

But my words like silent raindrops fell. She knew my desire for her. It need not be said openly.

But in my mind that night,I said all the things to her I could not say aloud.

I confessed my desires for her on the altar of my mind.

"Michael, would you marry me?", she asked as we stood looking at the sunset.

"Are you crazy?", I asked her aloud, while in my soul screaming YES!

She turned back to me and smiled in my dreams. She knew what my soul had said, but accepted my refusal at face value, not embarrassing me with the answer she knew in my heart.

I wept with happiness at the mere offer of sharing the rest of my life with her as her husband.

And in those dreams she accepted that I felt that way about her, without rancor.

Our positions as Mistress and slave , the barriers between us melted away like snow in the sun. We were one together, a feeling that was a rekindling of the memories of my wife.

"I love you Mistress.", I said to that wraith in my mind .

"I know.", was the same sweet answer that I had heard the night I was reborn.

I awoke with a start, my cheeks wet with the tears I had only thought I'd cried.

My Mistress, my forbidden love, slept peacefully as I sat, thinking of the dreams and wondering if I could tell her of them.

No, I decided. Perhaps someday I'll just write a story about it, and she can consider it literary licence.

But I would always know in my heart the truth of the matter.

And would carry that secret forever, never spoken.

Chapter 12
Sections 13 and 14

Rose Tint My World
All Through The Night