Picking up a small oval basket from the wagon, I begin to walk to the field to gather wildflowers for my Master's enjoyment. They are pleasing to Him to see, especially since they make me happy. The sun is so bright. It feels good on my skin. Lifting my face to its rays a smile moves along my lips as again I am thankful that I live another day. It is another day that I may live pleasing the man who owns me. I adore him. Smiling upwards to those that listen in thanks and gratitude for making the world, the sun, the flowers that grow along the small hillside outside our wagon on the plains. Today your slave feels good - looks good as my legs, bared by the short silks that seem to cling in all the right places, carry me through the field of colors.

Soft winds play at my hair lifting it behind me as the sunlight captures the gold highlights in the fiery mane that falls to my shoulders. The baskets' handle slides over my arm as I walk through the sweet smelling petals oblivious to anything but the sheer simple pleasure of being alive on such a glorious day.

Spotting the scarlet flamimums, a shiver of joy moves along my spine. My step quickens to their cluster. Very carefully, as not to crush any, my knees bend to kneel to their riot of color and richness of scent. Ever so gently, my back arches bending as my hands move to support my body as I lean over to inhale their scent. The short silks ride dangerously upwards. The soft undercurve of my bottom peeks out from its silken covering as the light breeze blows over me. Alone in a field of wildflowers, the red hair shimmering as the finest copper, I feel the red silks clinging to my breasts as the wind teases its shortened hem.

So lost am I in the simple pleasures of the flowers, my eyes closed when inhaling their sweet scents. My body on my hands and knees to rest my face against their petals, I did not hear you when you came only felt your hands as they gripped my hips painfully and pulled me roughly back into your still clothed form.

I screamed.

The roughness of your leathers taunt with your arousal burned into me as if a match to paper as your hand slapped my bottom leaving sting and a handprint that sent my senses reeling. Fearing what and whom I could not see I screamed again.

"Silence now slave!" The hard slap of your hand again to my bottom reddening the smooth creamy skin.

"Yes Master!" The soft cry as my body instantly obeyed and my heart rejoiced because it was you, my Master, my one true Master.

Your hand pulled at my hair gripping it almost painfully as the scream died in my throat and my neck jerked back brutally hard before your lips crushed mine in a blazing kiss - a kiss of ownership. A kiss of a Master wanting what He owns, controls and dominates.

Your teeth bite at my lips and my tongue as it takes from my mouth every kiss that had yet to be thought of. The tiny marks of blue would surely show tomorrow around their coral softness showing ownership of this girl…and the marks made by her beloved Master.

My world spun as your lips claimed mine over and over. My senses lost in desire and lust that I did not feel the silk as it was torn from my body baring it for your pleasure.

My eyes popped open at the force of your heated entry into my silken sheath - the path not wet or ready for your length. My scream echoed in the field as your hand gripped my neck and pushed me further down into the petals. The intrusion into my slave heat painful and fast. The wild animalistic force of your body into mine over and over as you took what you owned. Your slave, your property...yours.

In and out you drove your hard shaft into the hot silkiness taking what was already yours. Your hand holding the steel kolar on my neck forcing my face down and my bottom upwards to serve you. Your body plummeted into mine hard, fast, until I felt your sticky, hot seed pour forth into the seeping well of my wetness as if made for only you.

My breathing altered, my breathing deep, my bottom grinding back into you begging as if for more. The violence in you still a mystery and never known when to erupt, I feared its power, but also glorified in it.

Your hand hard on my bottom began slapping until you could find no more of the creamy smoothness, but only the red marks now lifted high for your pleasures. My moans of desire echoing in the empty field. My hands clutching at air, at grass, at flowers, at anything to steady me. Your fingertip circling the star only once before driving into the tightness hard to take, to control, to feel me. In and out your finger pushed its way into my tightness as your hand slaps harder against me. I try to scream at your roughness, your dominance, but it drowns in my desire and overwhelms my fear. Your shaft hard and ready replaces your finger.

Your length penetrates and plunders the tightness to my very core as my head tries to lift to cry out at the tight entry, but is roughly shoved back down to the ground. The scarlet flanimums forgotten as you take what is yours, fuck what is yours, control what is yours.

My breasts full and aroused are forced to the ground, the grass almost cutting into them as your hand on my kolar keeps me pressed firmly down. Your shaft pounds harder into my tightness…harder…harder…. My body responds to your rape of your slave as my center grows wetter and wetter until my world begins to shatter, my body inflames and my voice, gritty with desire fights to whisper:

"Master, please."

"Yes."

My release begins to slide hotly down my inner thighs then gushes forth as your hand slaps my bottom, already stinging, with more blows. Over and over your hand slaps, the slickness now almost pouring from my slave heat. My body responds to your violent lovemaking until my legs quiver to support me before stilling to take your hot shaft as it fills my bottom with your hot seed. Our cries of release simultaneously echo in the breeze as our bodies jerk with the intensity of our joining. Master and slave.

~*~*~*~*~

I do not dare move as your hands still grip my hips, your length now spent but still encased inside of your slave. I know there will be lover's bruises tomorrow on my hips from your hands, on my mouth and I shall wear your handprint on my bottom.

"Your flowers are picked. Go home slave." Your voice deep and commanding dismisses me in the haze of my still reeling senses.

"Yes Master, but Master, I haven't picked…" my voice trails off as my eyes follow your gaze to my hands filled with the stems of the fragrant flowers. Their petals almost crushed by my grip in your heated taking of me.

Laughter spills from my throat as I pull the stems clutched in my hands. Stretching my body out and turning so that I can lie naked in the sweet grass at your feet, my lips curve with the tell tale smile of a well used slave.

My eyes look up to yours, my fingertips trail the scarlet petals enticingly along my throat and downward to circle aroused dusty rose nipples, then further to the sweet slave heat beckoning you again and again…

"MMMMmmmaster couldn't we stay here instead?"