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Dreaming
The redsilk slave goes to her kennel late in the evening. Her eyes barely stay open long enough make it to the meager repcloth that covers the straw of her pallet. Sleep takes her quickly, she lays on her left side, knees brought up and hands tucked under her cheek. Deep within the night a dream takes flight. She is within a strong embrace. Her lips battered and bruised from fierce kisses. Her hands reaching up to tangle in a dark mane of hair. A booted foot nudges her feet apart and then a leather covered knee presses between her thighs. The kisses grow more and more demanding, drinking of her very soul. Softly she whimpers and clings, fingers caressing just above the cowl of the heavy robe. One hand presses at the small of her back, bringing her closer into the embrace. The fire within rages and the slave girl, the flames stoked by gentle but determined touches, begins to tremble. Stern eyes watch her carefully, the changes in the coloring of her cheeks, her breathing, and the tension in her muscles.
A soft moan escapes the sleeping slave's lips as she writhes in her simple cage. In her dream he is slow, determined to draw out every response under his watchful eyes. He will expose the wanton for what she is, a woman, a slave to be held, caressed, and taught her slavery. She turns her head from him, closes her eyes, and fights to stave off the waves that threaten to carry her away. His voice, marked by a sterness she recognizes, calls her back. "Look at me girl, you may not hide in any way from me." Strong fingers grip her hair and draw her head back until she must gaze into the fathomless depths of his eyes. Soft words shake her to her core. He murmurs, "I will take what I wish from you slave and you will beg to give it to me."
A loud sob awakens the girl alone in her kennel. Her eyes fly open and she looks around. Grumbles from other sleepy voices admonish the girl. "Oh go back to sleep *slave* you were only dreaming." From another a hiss of, "slut". Mocking laughter from still another kennel. Still another says, "Sleep girl for there are chores a plenty to be done when the sun rises."
lissa turns away and curls up again, drawing her thin covering over her shoulders and stuffing a corner of it into her mouth to muffle her soft murmurings as she drifts off to sleep again.
Down the Path
lissa awakens early after being up past her usual bedtime and slips into the cool morning air. The girl yawns and stretches, rising to tiptoes, hands reaching high over her head. Through an open window, the hazy morning light begins to spill into the sleeping chamber. The slave girl touches the fine gold ring in her nose and finds that it is not so sore as the day before. A warm smile lifts lissa's full pouty lips, now, if the promised scroll would be in the box at the end of the path.
Bare feet pad across the stone floor to the chest that holds a few things Mistress has granted her favored girl. The emerald house silk is lifted out and slipped over lissa's head. She ties the disrobing knot at her shoulder and chuckles softly as she remembers the day Mistress put away the emerald silk and gave lissa the scarlet back. A side-to-side shake of hips set the tiny bells to jingling merrily around the extra short hem. With a girlish giggle, lissa sets off down the path accompanied by the tinkle of bells. Experimentally, the girl changes to different gaits to see how the bells sound. She scampers with a sprightly step, then hops, and then changes again to a slow sultry stroll each change bringing about a different melody.
Eager eyes peer into the box; maybe the scroll will be here today. That darn delivery tarnsman can be cantankerous sometimes. lissa thinks he spends too many evenings in the paga taverns and is slow to get to his duties the next day. A soft sigh, no not yet, the box is empty. This girl will just have to keep an eye out for that bleary eyed, paga swilling, delivery tarnsman and tell him to bring her the promised scroll. Grrr!
Learning
This girl bows humbly before you, she is a little quieter than usual as she tries to keep the catch out of her voice. lissa lost her temper. Something a slave should never do no matter how provoked. Another learning process for the slave girl that still has far to go.
The farther a girl goes, the more she can see that she needs to improve. The experiences that shape a girl call her deeper still. One question rings in a girl's heart and mind. Will this unquenchable fire continue to grow, to call a girl deeper within this realm of ownership?
Will she ever find a peaceful place that she can just 'be'? "Not yet slave girl, not yet," the answer whispers softly within her heart.
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