Posted:
I had finished my piece ages ago.
But it's over the word limit
And it doesjt make anysense if I nip out words of it.
So I will be posting it in its 800+ monstrosity.
I realise I have probably violated the word limit.
My prompts were :
Male: Fire Fighter
Female: Sold Submissive
Scenario: 10 year reunion.
Title : Play with Fire.
Changing out of that rented suit had been a relief.
If only the price had not been the usual life in crisis' situation.
He entered the small shack, protected by his gear.
The orange flames licking at the curtains made echos of the screams of a love long dead ring in his ears, and he shook his head to clear it, making himself focus on the task at hand.
The female figure on the bed.
She wasn't moving.
She wasn't screaming.
And that unnerved him more than anything else.
The shrieks in his head faded to muted whispers at the sight in front of him.
Her arcane calm in the face of flaming death chilled him more than the shrill screeches of terror that were the norm.
He moved closer, holding out his hand
"Come"
She looked up then.
Her eyes. Devoid of fear.
Filling his own soul with what she lacked.
She shook her head, twice.
And that drew his attention to her neck.
A black leather collar like one you would find on a dog adorned her throat.
And it was then that he noticed she was dressed in...nothing.
Gulping, he cleared his throat.
"Do you want to die?" his voice sounded oddly raspy to his own ears, and the lack of reaction made the embers of temper ignite within him.
Gripping her tight by the arm, he pulled her up, yanking her close.
He drapped the unburnt sheets of the bed over her, covering her nudity and swung her up in his arms.
"Don't even think of it." the warning in his tone made her go limp.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as he carried her out of the burning room and into safety.
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He put her down on the ambulance bed.
She refused to let go of his hand, clutching it with a feverish fervor.
"Are you alright?" the question seemed stupid on his lips.
"He's...he's..not coming back..." her voice crumpled and cracked.
"Who?" his eyebrow rose at the devastated look in her yes.
"M...Master?" she clutched the band of leather around her neck.
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"Who is she? She's got a bloody collar around her neck!" he whispered.
It had taken him 5 minutes to promise the whimpering woman he would be back.
The inspector's stern look seemed carved onto his face as he explained who the woman was.
Vidushi Kumar. She was not from this town.
The shack she had been found in belonged to a Varun Khanna.
A rich industrialist who had recently got engaged to a amir admi ki beti.
The woman was his...she's a submissive.
"A Slave? What kind of sick.." he inhaled sharply.
A contract submissive.
"And he left her to die? In a burning house?"
Listen Parth, he just left her. She started---
The inspector's words were cut off by a scream.
"Vidushi!" Parth ran to the room she was in, leaving a baffled, tuxedo clad inspector behind.
I'll just tell Aster that Parth isn't coming to the reunion.
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"Please Master"
She threw herself at him.
"I'll be a good girl. I'll do anything you want me.Please don't leave me."
Her arms tighted around his torso, blanket covered body pressed against his.
The blanket started to slip off, revealing her shoulder, dusky skin.
He raised hand to lift the blanket up to cover her, sighing at her whimper.
"Master"
"Don't. I'm not your Master Vidushi" he didn't know why he liked the way her name tasted in his mouth.
"Please...don't leave me. I have nowhere to go. No one but you. You saved me." she clung to him, desperation rolling off her in waves.
And now he was drowning in them.
Because he knew how she was feeling.
Utterly helpless, belonging nowhere.
And he, her saviour. A life raft.
His arms wrapped around her waist.
"Please Master..." her voice was frail.
"Parth. Call me Parth" he rubbed her back through the blanket, earning a hum from her.
"Master Parth"
Warmth spread over him when his name left her lips.
"Just Parth" he shook his head.
"Master Parth." she said firmly
And then her voice lowered in a promise.
"I'm yours"
"Yours" her voice was soft.
"Mine." his words made a serene, relieved look appear on her face.
She made the voices in his head stop.
She made the accusations disappear.
She made him feel alive again.
Holding her was his cure.
And he could cure her damaged soul too.
"Kiss me." he tested out his first command.
She stood on her toes and brushed her lips gently against his.
Something cold inside had thawed.
The glacier of mourning, of self hate and loathing, of loss and emptiness was melting.
The ghost of the girl he loved, the girl he couldn't save had finally left him.
Tightening his hold on her, he pressed his lips onto hers, coaxing her into a tentative kiss.
She let him take the lead.
Claimed.
He'd reclaimed his peace of mind.
The ice was replaced by a blaze.
And this time, if she wanted to burn, he would gladly join her.
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Health and Fitness
Anupamaa
