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Europa

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Healing of loneliness and despair on a cold rainy night.
1k words
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The following is a story that came to me as I listened to a remake of Santana's Europa, done by Gato Barbieri. You may wish to try finding it and listen to is as you read. Yes, I am new here and I welcome any and all comments and constructive criticism.

The light from the scattered street lamps reflects eerily on the puddles that have formed in the pothole filled street, while at the same time, creating a luminescence in the darkness as it refracts through each drop of rain as it falls and joins those already amassed below. Above the street in a second floor apartment, she stands, leaning against the worn draperies that surround the window. The rain forms never ending mini rivers as it streaks down the panes of the glass. Not unlike the dimly lit street below, only a single candle placed on the windowsill lights the apartment, as beacon in the night. The flame flickers in the slight draft that finds its way through the worn and ill-fitting, window frame. The light reflects from the windowpane, causing her face to be backlit. As it flickers, shadows dance slowly upon her face.

She is dressed only in a delicate, white lace embroidered bra, pink thigh high stockings, held in place by a white satin garter belt, hidden beneath a short silk slip, also trimmed in delicate lace. Surrounding her gracefully flowing neckline is her collar of midnight blue crushed velvet, studded with small topaz stones, a small blue and yellow ying yang device hanging from the front. Her long, shiny, mahogany brown hair cascades over her shoulders, front and back

Her eyelids can no longer retain the moisture building in her eyes. Without warning, a single tear begins to slowly slide down her delicate cheek to her jaw. It pauses, and when joined by a second traveling the same path, continues on down to her collar, where it is quickly absorbed into the soft velvet. She longs to see her Master yet again. He has not been to her in many days and a plethora of fears fill her mind. Could something have happened to him? How would she ever know? How would she go on without him? Her heart jumps as she sees someone moving on the sidewalk below, only to be overcome with deepening and painful disappointment as she realizes that it is but a stranger wandering aimlessly in the rain. Somewhere out in the cold and wet darkness of the night, her Master is on his way to be with her. She knows that he will come tonight to end the pain and suffering that consumes her, replacing that pain with the sweet pain that only he can give to her. A pain that is like no other, harsh but gentle, mean and yet ever so loving. He must come tonight, he simply must. Suddenly, a torrent of tears begin their journey down across her cheeks, only to be consumed at the end of their journey as the others, in her now dampening velvet collar.

The raging stream of tears is suddenly stopped at her jaw by a gentle touch. There could be only one touch such as this. She instinctively knows that it is the strong hand of her Master that dams the river of tears at her jaw. The hand moves slowly up across her cheek, removing the tears with a single stroke. Turning slowly, she beholds the image of all that is her life, all that is her will to live, but it is not her Master, or is it? Quickly lowering her head she immediately began to lower herself her knees, only to be stopped and drawn tightly against the massive, rain soaked body before her. His muscular arms softly enrapt her body and hold her close as she begins to weep uncontrollably. He has come. He has come tonight, to her, and will make everything new and beautiful again. Her life will, if but for a brief time, again become like an early spring day. A day filled with birds chirping and flowers opening to reveal their brilliant colors, welcoming the bees and butterflies to collect the pollen hidden deep inside of them. She too will open herself to him.

He gently takes her head in his hands. He tilts it upward and looking deep into her sparkling brown eyes, places his lips lightly upon hers, the touch of their lips as soft and gentle as a summer's breeze. His hands slide slowly down to her supple neck. Moving her mahogany tresses from his way, his fingers deftly unclasp the velvet collar, allowing it to fall to the floor. From his pocket he pulls a necklace of gold. Hanging from it is a golden pendant, fashioned as if to be an angel's wings, filled with emeralds and twinkling diamonds. He places it about her neck and fastens it securely, then once again softly kisses her tear-stained cheek. Yes, her pain has ceased; her true Master has finally arrived and taken her as his. She is now, His angel.

He lifts her into his arms and carries her through the darkness to her bedroom where he places her gently onto what is now their bed. Instinctively she quickly brings her hands above her head and spreads her long silken legs to await the placement of the bindings, only to have her Master take her hands and place them about his neck. Once more he gently kisses her warm moist lips, while they stare deeply into each other's eyes. There will be pleasure and pain this night, but not pain for pleasure. Her Master stands beside the bed and begins to remove his rain soaked clothing, eyes the barely visible paddles, floggers and assorted other instruments on the night stand, smiles in the darkness and lays on the bed beside her. He cups her breast in his massive hand, leans his head forward and quickly takes her erect nipple between his lips, gently squeezes it and pulls it into his mouth. The pleasurable pain has begun....................

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4 Comments
RavenneraRavenneraover 15 years ago
Indeed, wow...

So eloquent, subtle, building tension.. simply love it :)

cobrasangelcobrasangelover 15 years ago
Wow

Breath taking...an incredible piece of writing...when accompanied with the music...quite Beautiful...Thank you

angelicminxangelicminxalmost 17 years ago
Be still my heart!

An incredibly touching and romantic story, filled with heat and desire. I can identify with the woman in her need for him to return.

wishfulthinkingwishfulthinkingalmost 17 years ago
The imagery

in this story is beautifully done.

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