It's possible they will be kissing for a while.

That's good, because John really likes the kissing. 

It's also not so good, though, because they do have things other than kissing to do tonight. 

Eventually, regretfully, he lets her go, and stops kissing her. "It worked, again," he says, still excited. 

"I love you so much," she says, leaning her head on his shoulder. "...I should do teardown if you don't expect to want to repeat this again tonight, and we should collect our stuff and go back to the house."

That was what he was about to suggest, actually. (Why does he feel annoyed that Rosy said it instead? That's doesn't make any sense.) "I was-. I mean, good idea," he says. He doesn't want to take credit for her idea even if he was thinking about it. (He needs to stop dwelling on this, there's no point to it.) "Do you want any help?" He pauses. "Or, um, should I order you to do it while I watch?" John tries to make the idea sound hot, though he feels a bit too self-conscious halfway through to really make it sound the way he wants it to. "If you think you'd enjoy that," he adds. 

"I would definitely enjoy that," she says, hugging him.

"Oh. Okay good." Phew. He looks out at the ritual site, opens his mouth to give the order, then sees the chair and pauses, and steps towards it to drag it somewhere that he can watch. Then pauses again. Feeling slightly foolish (but also turned on by the thought), he says (trying to make it an order), "put the chair somewhere out of the way where I can watch, first." 

"Yes, Master."

She kisses him on the cheek and steps carefully into the circle to extract his chair.

"I'll just be a moment getting the rake and the bins, if that's all right?"

He's definitely turned on seeing her drag the chair out for him at his order. This feels... it feels really good to have this kind of power over her. He glances down between his legs and then glances back up. "That's fine," he says. "Um, slave." he adds at the end and feels awkward about it. Maybe another time. He flops down in the chair as she brings it and looks up at his (his!) Rosy and smiles. "Oh, wait, should I order you to get started? Or wait until you come back? I, uh, don't know the most best way to do this here, sorry." 

"I think it makes sense to wait until I come back. Also, I love you a truly incalculable amount." She traipses away through the woods.

He watches her go, grinning to himself. 

She's gonna be his for a whole week now (unless she changes her mind, of course) and she's so excited by this too. And it's really hot giving her orders (even trivial ones like the chair) and seeing her obey. And he's really looking forward to what he's going to be doing in probably less than an hour. Fuck. He still can't believe this is happening. 

He plays back a few recent moments from the ritual and after in his head (her swearing herself to him, the feeling of her being his, the way she called him Master and fell to her knees), and does his best not to touch himself while waiting for Rosy to return. 

She really is only gone for a minute or two; when she gets back, she stands up the hand truck with its stack of bins and leans her rake against a tree and—almost dives right into teardown, but hesitates, looking shyly at John.

Fuck she's cute. (And hot.) "Come here and give me a kiss, first," he decides suddenly, sitting up higher in the chair to make this more possible. (Also hopefully the height difference will help make the kiss not take too long, though he only just now thought of that.) 

Beaming, she obeys.

He has to stretch up a bit to kiss her even as she leans down, but that's okay. She's still very good to kiss, all full of love (and lust) for him. 

He breaks the kiss after a few moments, and grins up at her. "Okay," he says. "Go, um, do the breakdown. While I get to watch." It sounded more impressive in his head. He really should try and be more commanding, now that he can, the way he wants to be. 

"Yes, Master," she says, looking longingly at him very much as though she would like to kiss him some more. But instead: tasks.

First she opens up plastic bins and gets all the crystals put away; then she grabs the rake and goes over the ground, brushing away the remnants of the burnt twigs and making sure all the lines of the ritual circle are thoroughly obliterated.

John watches her at her work. She's naked, and doing things at his order, and clearly enjoying that fact, all of which goes a long way towards making watching her do relatively mundane tasks (besides the fact that it's cleaning up after a magic ritual), an enjoyable experience. John does find himself wishing that she was doing things in a more exposing sort of way -- but this seems like a lot to be asking for when she's already doing this for him. And he doesn't want to mess up what might me delicate magical equipment. This really isn't the time for that sort of thing, even if he's enjoying the visions in his head. (And maybe he'll even get them acted out later, with a bonus maid costume in tow, in slightly different circumstances.) There's no need to bring anything like that up now, he can do it another time. 

It takes a little less than ten minutes to get everything all cleaned up. Rosy, now smudged with dirt in several places, beams at John as she stacks the last bin onto the hand truck.

John grins back at her, pulls himself up out of his chair, and then dithers about whether or not it should go on the cart with the rest of the items (because he shouldn't have to carry anything himself, because that's hot) or if he should carry it back to the Witch Hut himself, side by side with Rosy, because that's the right thing to do. Even though he's supposed to, he doesn't want to keep imposing on her. 

"May I?" she asks, reaching for the chair.

Oh. Well, okay. If she's sure? (She's probably sure. And he's supposed to listen to her when she says that kind of thing, right?) He takes a breath. "Please do," he says, holding out the chair to her. He's not sure if he should or shouldn't try and make this one an order (he changes his mind several times, including in the middle of saying it), and so has no idea if it comes out as an order or not. 

It's clear after he says it that she's not bound to obey, but of course she is obeying anyway, cheerfully securing the chair next to the stack of bins.

Was that an order? He's not sure. She doesn't seem like she's being forced to do anything, but that's hardly any real evidence, especially since she'd do it cheerfully regardless. He should probably practice figuring out what is and isn't an order at some point. But now is not the time. "Thanks," he says, after the chair is secured. "Back to the Witch Hut? And then, um, to the Master Bedroom?" 

"Appropriately enough, yes." She starts along the path with her cart and her rake.

John grins at the accidental joke, once it's pointed out to him. "I suppose it is," he says, and follows her. 

"How... does it feel?" he asks her. "Still enjoyable? No problems?" 

"Mhm!!" Happy bounce. "I like being yours."