So this is something new I've been working over the last week or so. I've always wanted to dip my toes into the short-story space, and I finally got my shit together and started writing. This was originally just as a treat for my Mistress, but she's very graciously permitted me to share with all you lovely folks.

I've written the first part of this over the course of six chapters, and I will be releasing them daily over the next six days. After that, I don't know. I get writer's block quite easily (sorry!). Plus, this is something I do on the side like all of my Reddit stuff, so bear with me.

Feel free to leave feedback in my DMs if you want to, but remember that I am absolute beginner at this. No harsh words please!

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

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From Across the Sea

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Part I

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Chapter 1

Despite her anxiety, Claire had to admit that the day was certainly a beautiful one. A crisp, clear autumn morning, light mist coating the brown and amber leaves, and gentle birdsong twinkled from the nearby park. None of this did anything, however, to settle her nerves.

The café she was sitting in was lively and an easy twenty or so customers were enjoying the brunch options being served. Claire took the time to carefully observe each and every one of them, desperately seeking any means by which she could take her mind off of the impending rendezvous that was fast approaching. For obvious reasons, she paid special attention to the couples, and the men in particular; subconsciously matching them up to the image she had in her mind of him. Claire had only a few scant details to go off: his musculature, his stubble, his butt. But none of the identifying details were available to her. She ached to know what his eyes looked like. How full his lips were. How his hair felt running through her fingers.

Claire shivered despite herself in the cool air, unsure if whether or not the temperature was the cause. She glanced at her watch: ten fifty-eight. Two minutes to go before he said he was going to be here. Her heart quickened. He was a stickler for punctuality, and she knew that he wouldn’t arrive a minute before or after eleven o’clock. Claire wondered if he was as nervous as she was, then laughed despite herself. Of course not. He had done so much for her already, and had shown so much of himself to her that he couldn’t possibly be as nervous as she was. But then again, he had never heard, let alone seen, her before, so maybe he was just as anxious as well? Claire took comfort in that. The last thing she wanted today was to show weakness or embarrassment. She knew that he knew who was in control, but still, Claire wanted to make sure from day one of being together physically that he knew his place.

The server came over, “Anything to drink?”

“Just two glasses of water, thanks” Claire replied. It may have been a café, but she didn’t think she could manage anything more than iced water. Plus, she knew he didn’t like tea or coffee. He would appreciate having the water ready for him. He may be hers, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t accommodate his needs. The server came back with a jug of iced water and lemon, along with two glasses. Claire thanked them and then, with a slightly shaking hand, poured herself a glass and took a sip. The ice-cold water sluiced down her throat and sharpened her already alert senses. The adrenaline that was now starting to circulate around her body brought her vision into crystal clear clarity. She was now hyper aware of everything that was happening around her, so when a new figure stepped into her peripheral vision, her eyes snapped onto them. Her heart stopped.

There was no doubt about it. It was him.

He was tall, easily over six foot. Slender, but not scrawny. There was an obvious strength and agility to his movements that betrayed an athletic background. Although she couldn’t see it, it was obvious that he worked out. His movements were quick, yet precise. Calculated. Despite his relatively young age, he moved with the grace and elegance of one much older. His hands and fingers appeared slender and pale, but bore the marks of a life spent outdoors. Small scars here and there spoke of time spend with knives, axes, thorns, and campfires. But it was his face that attracted the most of her attention. While he was certainly no great beauty, there again was the sharp maturity that coloured the rest of his features. His eyes, a rich hazel, sparkled slightly in the late-morning sun as he took in his surroundings. He was clearly intelligent, analysing every detail around him, those eyes darting around, assessing each person before him. Claire guessed that he was doing the same as her, trying to espy their respective targets. Then his gaze locked onto hers and it was as though the autumn air between them sparked. His thin lips curved into an easy, but knowing smile. He ran a hand through his thick, jet-black hair, ruffling it slightly before combing it back down. He spoke to the server who was attending to him, then stepped towards her. Claire stood up to say something, but before she could even open her mouth, he beat her to it.

She barely even had time to register his movements before he had her in his firm but gentle grip. He pulled her slightly towards him, and despite herself, Claire melted slightly into his arms. She felt his warm, spiced breath on the side of her face, tickling her ear. He spoke only one word, but her heart burst when she heard it,

“Mistress.”