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Evening Reflections

lissa goes to her sleeping mat with Mistress' words ringing in her ears. Yes, it was time for the wanton to don silks again. There were a few that may have wanted to force the provocative girl to their furs. Your heated she-sleen wonders too where the shy girl went only to be replaced by one surer of step and confident enough to serve in the taverns and inns without a stitch of clothing or adornment save for her brand and collar. A girl who takes pleasure in the reactions of those she served with grace and a bit of temptation only to scamper away before they could get a firm grip on her. Her merry laughter and saucy winks leaving them to try another day to win a small favor. lissa sometimes wonders if she is a black-hearted tease. This lowly slave is owned so totally yet wants others to envy her owner, to desire that which belongs to Mistress and at the same time, would be devastated if she were sold away forever.

A smile crosses her face as she drifts into dreams of her 'cruel' Mistress. Yes, most assuredly lissa has changed from the shy girl who would have run away to hide had she been cuffed back, to the mewling, pleading, brazen girl that bounces back to beg again for a morsel of attention. Who is this girl that boldly displays for her owner, shamelessly rubbing against her to show her passions for any and all to see? Aye, it is the same sweet girl as always, with a newer maturity, a contented love slave, that has little reservation when it comes to pleasing her Mistress.

Sleepy eyes close and soft sighs turn into even breathing. Softly she murmurs as she drifts off. yes, Mistress, more Mistress please.....

She-larl

Your girl creeps into your sleeping chamber, her heart pounding wildly as she moves. The slave has spent time creating an aura of wildness to her look. Her skin is stained dark, hair backcombed and tangled, her eyes painted to accentuate their almond shape. She moves with the stealth of a stalking larl, her breathing ragged as she comes closer. The combination of darkly tanned skin, deep brown eyes, and scent of slave perfume make your possession seem to seethe with animal lust.

She noses back the light repcloth coverlet used in the hot summer months and exposes your feet. Her tongue reaches out to caress your toes before her warm mouth closes over each one and she tastes her Mistress again. A deep rumble sounds in her chest as she moans softly, her need pushing her on, her fear causing her heart to strike in her chest harder. Finally need overcomes fear and her wet, rasping tongue glides higher to trace around your ankle. You move in your sleep... your girl wonders if you are awake and aware yet that you are being stalked by your she-larl.

Slowly she moves up the curve of your leg and dips her tongue into the bend of your knee, flickering there and watching as you move, consciously or unconsciously to enjoy the ministrations of one that would move so boldly. Dark, cat-like eyes watch as she feathers kisses higher up your thigh, carefully opening the ties of your sleeping gown with her teeth to expose soft creamy flesh. Slave need pulsing with a steady thrum forces the slave girl on to bolder kisses.

The scent of your body tells the slave animal that on some level you respond to her touches. The texture of your skin softens under her lips, inviting, allowing the trembling slave to please you. Her kisses grow bolder and she moves higher, each move taken with infinite care. A light touch brings the eager to please slave girl to the awareness that her beloved has become fully awake. The light touch becomes a firmer grip of fingers tangled into hair. Mistress and slave entangle in a lustful dance that leave both spent and panting.

Mistress pulls her girl's head back to give her a closer look. With low, husky laugh Mistress says. Why this is my tasta! (as if she didn't know all along)

Wednesday Happiness

lissa went to her mat last evening with a glad heart. Something within her speaking softly told her this phase of training would be good for her. The treasures you share with your gem fill her heart to overflowing. Even being the lowliest of the low makes a girl sing with happiness.

Old Earth (Chinese) proverb: The deeper the mud, the more beautiful the lotus.

With the breaking day, your kettle girl rises and prepares the blackwine and heads out into the city making a point to greet all with respect as her betters. A new humility lifts the spirits higher and higher. Some slaves are clearly shocked that the uppity first girl of Khim's household is speaking to them with utmost respect as a kettle girl. Even the girl that lissa detested was addressed with such reverent respect that the girl did not know how to answer.

With smiles and a glad heart,
your kettle slave