Feliz Navidad!

Happy Holiday's Everyone, no matter what you celebrate during this time! Just want to wish a good rest and New Year also! I hope to see everyone soon after the New Year hang over and family gatherings are over. Miss you all!

Mun of Red:)

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for every bit of sparkle that has glittered my heart from every soul I have met here. Enjoy the day and eat shamelessly!

I like this feeling

I enjoy the cool mornings. A breath of chilled air filling my lungs, dancing across my inner veins and a little tingle at my finger tips. I don't even need to open my eyes to know the burst of blue sky is around me, for this morning for some reason I was allowed rest.

I wondered were Bitch was, perhaps she had been summoned. She didn't wake me with baskets being pressed near me with mending or wash, cloths to be stripped for bandages, There wasn't any late season berries to be crushed, jellied, or just mixed with sugar for baked treats. Sweet ramberry and date bread was something I enjoyed making. They could be made right in pottery bowls just boiled in water over the fire, the steamed heat lets it rise with ease of any oven we may have had at the Halls.

Blushes loved to make it for my Father. I loved making it in general for it brought good memories. She said she learned it from a slave who had belonged to pirating ships. They would make camp at the side of shores and everything had to be made by makeshift camp fires. Reminds me of here. Well, not really, but the fires make me think of ships battling on the Thassa. There is something breathtaking about watching huge ships coming into the docks. Father was gone for almost a year once on trading travels. He brought back bracelets for us, me and Big Red.

I look to my wrist, bare of those sparkling symbols of wealth and age. I haven't seen my bracelets since I arrived. Probably been traded and have passed many hands by now. There are a few slaves around with decorations of bracelets and anklets. Not like the bells I once worse, but bands of gold that must please others to have on them. So simple just a single band can look, to where back home, the slaves of the all even in simple Camisk still wore much gold for it pleased Father and the men.

What I would give for a pretty bracelet around my wrist. A band of gold to soften the bold specks across my flesh. I looked at my fingers and I missed the tint of red at my nails. I wondered how Yasmine was doing. I started to mix powder of coco, dried petals of a blue flower found here on the plains, with just a bit of root from plant I didn't know the name of. It gave a smoothing aroma, one not flowery, but the flower petals oddly calmed it. It was smooth, and warm in its scent. I loved it against my skin with a light oil. I felt pretty and comforting. I put it in my hair, it was light enough not to weight it down or darken it, but keep it under control even when I was working, yet allowed the breeze to mingle along the crimson waves.

Even on this cool morning, naked in the wrap of furs, did I feel good. I wanted thought of going in and coming out Master's sleeping furs today, I wonder if He ever woke up in cuddled warmth like this. Not wishing to climb out just yet, but just wanted to stay in an ehn longer. So much I truly wanted to know.

Wandering thoughts aka babbing....

The taste of the weather changing is refreshing. The smell of it, almost a sweetness, a rejuvenating feeling that starts from the inside out. I love this season. It reminds me of my old home. I get a feeling of those around me, not the same as my own feelings, but one of pending challenge. I see it as beauty and awakening. This is the time of year we find moss to cover the ground were we dug up the peach trees and we bring them inside the grove halls. Rather like make shift halls, we move them around. Rotating the soils. We only move them every five years. A huge celebration for the moving of the trees so the soil doesn't get dried out. We don't pick the peaches that year, we let them fall for the bugs and worms. Celebration of Rot. Hm, I think its just a year of mead. I really could go for a peach and a cup of mulled mead right now.

Blushes would be pulling down jarred peaches for jams on warm breads, saying the heavy snows would be here soon. She knows how I like the cookies with the jelly centers when we come in from ice fishing. But not this winter. Not any winter ever again.

But wait, we were going North right? Yes. No, not really, their North wasn't really, My North. Not truly. I would love to see the crystal lands, and waters again. Drums telling of oars breaking glass ice and waves that dare keep men away. Here it was the taste of land, and wood, and grass and ground. I was a bit scared,and excited.

There wouldn't be tales of River Tharlorians, or Snow Larls, but I was curious what creatures would lurk for the Warriors here. I had tasted someone of the natural battles, learned to respect and fear. I found deep inside, I wish I could run and tell Von about the Fire, but it would be a stupid wish, and I hated myself for even thinking it.

I was nothing but...a slave. Some fair skinned red head slave, already three times owned among wagon people. I had at one time thought of wanting to go home. That was gone. I couldn't go home. What would I say? I had let my sister die. I still feel guilt for not going with her. Am I not her twin? I'm not even pure anymore, so, have no value to my Brother, I am not branded in flesh, but I know.

Its not so bad. I'm trying. Its hard. I just can't seem to let go of the past. Those fine little strings are still cutting me like salt in wounds. So, yes, there we go, my issues again. I'm having me issues. Maybe its like little red is still a caterpillar.

The little red bug is still crawling around with her little legs over her past, wanting it back, and carrying it around while her future is all around her.

Get the fuck over it little red bug.

The little red bug is crawling around with her little legs over her past, wanting it back, while her future is around her, and willing to teach her, help her, and is showing her the way to a better and more functioning life for red.

Get the fuck over it little red bug.

The little red bug is going to get fucking stepped on if she doesn't.

Goodness, I better get my shit together.

Issues of my own

To say I have some trust issues would be an extreme understatement. I wish I could blame it all on the now, but its not where it was born. Its like the clash of then and now, starting to fold into each other like the firming of batter from water and flour into a mass of dough. Now, how this dough rises really is up to the maker and baker, if they are one or two people.

Now this mass of Red dough is just a flesh in need of kneading. For my yeast of trust..is not rising. But enough, enough of food bound thoughts for even the conversation in my head is making me hungry. I was getting pretty comfortable in my surroundings. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. When I started to get that safe haven, dare to think..homely, feeling, something always flips.

Again. Trust issues.

The whole slavery thing hasn't been such a bad ride, the chains have helped out with a major element of it. Sex. Which I have totally dismissed as anything useful on my end. Yes, I would be a fool to not admit I did get lustful. Sex got me where I was today. Go fuck and be pleasing! Yeah right. Bastard.

I am willing to say, perhaps its a bit of freewoman still inside of me, not fully shaken out. I have will power. I have fingers. I'm good. Another thing I have on my side, is a crazy Bitch of a chain sister who makes sure I am not lacking for things to do while on the chain. I have enough chain to move a good distance in and out of the wagon, to the cooking fire. Not much further. I can cook, clean, mend, scrub, all kinds of creative shit that Bitch finds me to do. That usually kills a chunk of lust at the end of the day because I'm fricking exhausted.

This happens to be one of those very exhausting nights. I am feeling lonely. Not even the sound of creaking wood, or the hit of water or grain, whatever happens to be the barrel Master throws Bitch upon being slammed against the metal banded sides mixed with grunts, moans, heavy breaths seem to give me the odd comfort it usually does. Tonight, I am being my own worse enemy. The back of my head says...Red, get off your ass, go give Master a cool cloth for the back of His head, maybe something for the bite marks on His arms after His fuck and ask to be close tonight. That is what you want right? Someone to be close to? I mean, sure I can crawl my ass into the wagon, but I choose to wrap up by the cooking fires of His wagons.

I listen to them sleep, and I don't ask to be a part of it, don't try. I am just feeling unsure. Of what, I can't even say, or pinpoint. Just a feeling. Right now, all I wanted was someone to snuggle against. To smell their hair. I close my eyes and I try to remember the smell of the rich curls of Big Red's hair, and its starting to fade from my senses. Catch, hers was of sweet honeysuckle, happiness, and glowing warmth. I missed it. I missed Yasmine's laughter. Lonely really sucks even when your surrounded with those you want to be near. Not sure why I was chaining my own fingers.

I figured out last hand while I was washing down some of the wagon fur carpets, I could do a neat little trick. I could slip my hands out of the shackles at my wrist. It was a matter of simply folding in my palm, a pinch but it slipped. I put them right back up, scratched my hands up pretty good, but it was a neat little trick. Had an Uncle on my mothers side who could do it. He would come to the Hall on holidays, huge wagers, barrels of mead exchanged, over shackles that couldn't hold him. Not thinking Master would find it a neat trick. One I think I will keep to myself.

It did make me smile, even now, thinking of it. Wonder how many barrels of mead I could have won doing it? I fell asleep thinking of fermented honey at my tongue. Made my dreams so much sweeter.

Starstruck

Nice legs, Daisy dukes, makes a man go [whistle]
Thats the way they all come through like [whistle whistle]
Low-cut, see-through shirts that make you [whistles]
Thats the way she come through like [whistles]


Cause I
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
To knock them down


Cause I
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
To knock them down (down)

I think I should know, how, to make love to something innocent without leaving my fingerprints out, now
L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce
How, do I say I'm sorry cause the word is never gonna come out, now
L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce.


Tight jeans, Double D's makin' me go [whistles]
All the people on the street know [whistles whistles]
Iced-out, lit-up make the kids go [whistles]
All the people on the street know [whistle whistle]


Cause I
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
To knock them down


Cause I
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
Just set them up,
To knock them down (down)

I think I should know, how, to make love to something innocent without leaving my fingerprints out, now
L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce
How, do I say I'm sorry cause the word is never gonna come out, now
L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce.


You know that type of shit just don`t work on me [whistles]
I`m really sorry I don`t know what she`s saying here
Something with me?
Don`t take it personally [whistles]
Cause we were never in love [whistles whistles]

It dosen`t really matter, who you say you are [whistles]
Sing it out the windows, of your car [whistles]
Find another girl across the bar [whistles]
Cause L-O-V-E`s not what this was [whistles whistles]

I think I should know, how, to make love to something innocent without leaving my fingerprints out, now
L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce
How, do I say I'm sorry cause the word ïs never gonna come out, now
L-O-V-E's just another word I never learned to pronounce.

3oh!3 featuring Katy Perry

Links of a new life

I woke up afraid to move. I wasn't sure if it was heat, emotions, life, or the warming feel of metal between my thighs. My body was trembling, from the inside out. My heart was a fury, as slow deep breaths were trying to control..everything. I felt cool grass from under the wagon burn from my flesh. I was sinking in mud, or so the vision was, not of fire, but of sprinkles of sweat running down my curves, across every freckled pattern, a glitter of droplets like hot summer rain dampening every part of me.

I could see it all in the tight squeeze of my eyes praying that I would let darkness that was once the comfort of slumber now a vivid reality of body taking control. I could breath in every strand of bladed nature and mothering earth that it was growing from. Even the flex of toes caused the pain of new need give a slow scorch across my skin. I didn't know how to stop it, how to make it go away. I didn't want it to stop, I wanted it to finish, but the start was something so delicious as I dare feel the stretch and cord of muscle spread my thighs, rolling links against the wet folds and let them grind into a pinch of slit flesh as I had nothing to hold on to, but the heaved sway of breast. Tips of nails would find taut grasping, twisted under a moan of breeze, falling to an arch of body's struggle. I wanted, I had no idea what I wanted, but all that was blazed in my mind was this feeling. I didn't know its beginning but I knew I had to search its end. I had never awakened with such an emotion of pure, lust. My fingers were not enough. I tried, it was like adding fuel to the fire trying to get its flames to lower. Every part of me was the core of heat. Running touch across stomach, navel, feeling the soft fine red curls forming against my sex. It was becoming foreign, this natural state of even my, oh, tongue was wet and thick with honey. Raw naughtiness. Feel the word, not ever rolled from my throat across my lips but to think it was something that gave another taboo of delight. Pussy. It was a sudden throb under watery folds and curls. Pussy. Ah, that was it. I wanted someone to want it. I could have saved myself some of the pain under fingered stroke, dipping and stirring like the honey dabbler in a jar. I could have.

My mind said, suffer. Let the world smell my need, each bit of warmly dipped soft honey candy coated in chocolate. I liked the aroma, it was very hypnotizing. This need, humbled me. I smiled even to the Bitch as she would walk by. Lust and submission, even to another slave? What an evil Pussy to make me feel this way. I don't think my stitches on my mending was ever so pretty of a pattern, or even the subs of the washing basin smelled so crisp and clean against the dishes. I kept my chain shorter. Still allowed me to work, eat, but its wrap across my waist, stroking under my navel like a pretty belly chain, just kept me, reminded. Of one need. Which was a nice little push, to another. To earn the right to serve. That feeling lucky was not a core of the Pussy that was keeping me glowing that day. It was one that was the center of the pit of that fire. That contained it. Allowed it to be fed.

That was the spirit inside of me, once again starting to warm. No one can make me happy, but me to start. Was I ready again? Silly slave on her third owner. No, I wasn't. But I was ready to try. To accept. To find me again, for collars could change, but the throat they rested on, was the same. One day, one might just have its perfect fit. For some reason that reminded me of a story about a ring of pure love, lost in a huge tub of others. Only the perfect finger would find it, and He would know once it was on, that this was what they both had been dreaming of. My ring was different, yet the same. It wouldn't be my finger. It would be something, a lot more sensitive.

Bitch......

I like to watch her. Bitch has this air about her that is one of demand, and warning. Yet the way she moves I won't say is sensual, but it has its one natural grace. From steps that are strong, but not stomped. Its like the tips of toes touching the ground and just rolling to the brace of heel, with the union of strong thighs that gloss in dark hue, to the turn of hip, rounding off the motion with an outline of slender waist, natural strength of feminine abdominal molded up curve of shoulders and even the extend of arms in chores has its own motion. I try not to look at her mouth, no need to, for she doesn't speak to me. I am not hard pressed about it, yet. I miss words. I find myself talking to the sleen in the cage. Often. When I stare at her face to often, I will get a glimpse of the edge of teeth. It is very creepy to me. I don't understand the reasoning. To keep people away? To want to be left alone in general? Hide beauty? Cause she was outstandingly beautiful in how exotic she looked, as long as I didn't see those teeth. It can't be all bad to men. I see Him take full use of her. The smell of her, which is like baked plums and cloves, rich and yet, strong. Of Him, that of sandalwood, salt, and musk of male. It was something different. I hadn't been close to many men to pinpoint it just yet, but I would figure it out. Roll all of that up in aroma and sound of sex it was like warm mulled palmwine. Made me think of drinking the heated spiced wine from the cup of a Master's hand. The feel that could be brought by the scent. I wondered if He loved the unique of her. It made me feel rather pale and plain. Strangely I still felt safe in the chains, wasn't ready to leave them just yet, though I missed walking around more then that the chains allowed. We were moving again, I could do a bit of help, as I would learn how to grease axles, and rub the metal band of wheels with a piece of leather to make sure they were fused good and nothing caught between the band and wood. She would move around tending to feeding sleen, me, leaving me chores, releasing me to only do minor natural function things, and freeing my wrist to bath, some salve so the locked shackles didn't chaff my flesh to badly.

I watched her work on a hide, I wanted to help, but nothing I could do from so close to wagons as the tissue and flesh so close to sleen was never a good idea. I was watching her work as I scrubbed the platform and steps with a tarsk hair brush and a bucket of soapy water. The way the hand blade move in strokes across the surface, how the muscles tensed and firmed in her upper arms as she worked up then down. How she would moisten the skin before running the blade over it once again. I felt a lot of envy right now. Just watching the bubble rise before me, my tiny reflection captured in its circled opal swirls. Yes, as much as I might have a hint of respectful fear for Bitch, I was so very jealous.

Risen........

from the ashes

When it gets hot

The feeling was like hearing a story read to you and the images were just bursting before your eyes, in your mind, and it was like you could just truly feel this phantom of forms before you as each word would fill into your ears and filter out in your own imagination like colorful figures instead of simple shadows at the change of light against the wall of the wagon's canvas.

But this was real.

Fire, its smell was all around us. I was unchained quickly, I didn't need to be told anything, instinct kicked in. Not as powerful as those I saw around me, but I remember as a child, when our Hall caught on fire. We were attacked by a nights fleet that hit the shores in such mass amounts we had no time to truly respect the sound of alarm from horns and ringing of the shore bell tower. It was a bloody battle, we were maybe six, and blushes rushed us, women and children, of the Hall, to the underground cave towards the hills outside the farm. Here, I saw young boys and girls near that age rushing to pile wagons, release animals, no one could run and hide out here, there was only save and survive. I felt my back prickle at the heat gaining towards the wagons even though they were starting to roll out. I remember the bosk starting to move as I was still pulling locks of chains and tethers tight, throwing water across their backs to keep the metal chains cool that was rubbing on them and heating up quickly with the air. It was hard to see, the instant sky of black and raining ash from wagons already being victim. Screaming was all over, I kept swallowing my heart down over and over. I have never experienced this before. Nothing like this. People were running around wagons that were already on the path were being handed up children, and elders. We had many even on His wagon, climbing to the platform, and I clung to the post there of the railing. I was so afraid. Even when a little girl was placed in my lap for me to hold as the wagon filled with caged sleens covered with blankets and leather to keep them calm and filter out the smoke , was filling up quickly with people also. There was so many tears, not just my own. I held to the child as my heart again seemed to ache watching the scene we were rolling away from. Men on kaiila's just being swallowed whole, back wagons finally getting out, not making it as people ran out of flaming Canvases and Bosk were released still in chains to save themselves. Screaming women trying to run back in the fire being dragged away by others. It was nothing but a wall of fire, like a huge avalanche of nightmares spilling like a damn just broken. I wanted to squeeze my eyes tight, I didn't want to see anymore, but for some reason I watched. I was moved by so much emotion, how much strength and love showed. It was like the feeling I got when me and red ran out once the men started towards the cave. Even in the far distance we could see bodies and blood staining ground and frosted hills under the stars and moons. It was the joy felt, and tears of praise and thanks when we both ran into Father's bloody warm chest, as he was even still holding his Ax, looking over the three of us, as Von was in Blush's arms as she kept up with our small running feet. That was the feeling that kept rolling over me as I would see any familiar face passing by, or working to fight the fire back.

I stay huddled next to the child in my arms, giving her water from a bota that was passed around to the group on the platform. Only once she had warmed to a quiet breath of slumber and the trembling stopped against my chest in my soft rocking of her tiny figure did I dare close my own burning eyes. I spread a blanket of protection for the child as I held her, I was a brace for a woman that rested her weary cheek against my shoulder, a thigh for a toddler who was across his grandmothers lap, and helped prop his red sore looking feet up, as I felt a tear run down my cheek again thinking of him running through the burning ground into her arms. There was still the sounds of fire, the sounds of wagons, crying, sniffles, coughing, whimpering and just the sound of rolling wooden wheels being lead by bosk rocking us to our own thoughts.


Me, I was so happy to be alive, and well, considering. I was happy to be where I was. It brought a feeling I hadn't had in a long time, I didn't dwell much on it, but just let it be my cushion as I found some sleep while I could. I had no doubt, it would be worse before better, once people could see..truly what was lost.

Oh

............Shit.

Seeing Red

Over the next few days, I found myself still angry. I was starting to build up a nice hard coating over my emotions. Fuck them all. I would do what I need to do. Find joy in my life, cause I was excited at one point though it was like some goal for another's happiness, but I was learning. Make a Fucker happy, and its no longer what He cares to be happy about. Devotion my ass. Yasmine even came to try to see me, and I just told her to leave me alone. I wanted no one right now. Nothing was real for a slave. I was learning. I sure was. Love...I took that by the neck and drowned in it dish water this morning while I scrubbed racks and pots of grease from cooking bosk. So I set forth towards the motions. Clean, kneel, clean, kneel, clean kneel, a tal here and a tal there. I can't remember ever being this angry. Not even when Von didn't see the new vulo chick and stepped on it as I was just getting him to walk towards me. That really pissed me off cause I had been calling him for many ehn's. Von just walked up to tell me he could some sweet sap tree by the far eastern outline of the farm. Just Oblivious of the little yellow wing that had just stopped flapping under his boot. This brought me to a little stand still as I was mending some wool socks. I haven't had those thoughts for a long time. For some reason the anger I had from seeing the cease of the little flap of wing under a boot, made me smile. Okay maybe being angry was overrated. It means I care, and right now, just not wanting to care much at all.

So yes, I will be happy. So in this search of self happiness, what would make me happy? Red, yes, I like the color red. I hoped my name would be changed. He, that evil man from the life of my first collar called me Red. I just didn't want it anymore. So what did I want to consider myself being? Vivica was gone, Red sucked, I would call myself....um. Damn. Red keeps coming to mind. I would have to think about this more so I had some good suggestions when Master Two came around. So, for now, Red would be the thought of the day. You know, these wool socks would look nice with some color. I asked the girl..Kassomething where some red dye is. She simply said there are other things I could be doing. She needed help with filling water barrel. Sure, I will be right on that. I took a bucket and she seemed to smile, before heading to the stream with a few of them. I didn't follow but as long as she thought I was, that worked for now. I wanted red dye. I put the pairs of woolen socks in the bucket, and filled it with enough water from the barrel to make sure all the socks were fully coated. I went through a few wagons, and just couldn't find anything. I found myself getting very frustrated. Not at not finding any dye, but at everything. I didn't like being a slave anymore, but I still liked living. I didn't think some Northern girl with a temper would be found useful free here, not that I would ever consider anything happening of that sort. No one was making me feel very slavish, as collar wasn't doing it, being fucked, it was a moment. One that still haunted me a bit, as my body was still feeling just a pull of its first embrace. I was so confused. Confused, Confused, Confused.

Not sure what wagon I was in when I finally looked around. Though, what I found on the counter, cried...Dye. Red, Yellow, Blue and Black. They were pretty. Like the colors that the men wore around here. I wondered why He had them in this wagon. I took the red and poured it in the bucket. I watched the water instantly turn into blood. Its hue was amazing. I walked out with the bucket and let it set for some time, before, I would use a stick to bring them out and rinse them. Hanging the socks up to dry, they were vivid. For a moment I felt very proud. I saw Master two walk up a bit later, as I was working on laying out some stream stalks I had dyed red also, for baskets. Made me miss the Vulo. He looked at the dried socks on the line, then red weaving grass, finally to me, to the empty bowl in his hand which I recognized, and to me again. He was quick for as big as He was. Fingers grasped my throat tightly, I felt air starting to hiss away from my lungs and every digit of His hand as I attempted to swallow another breath. The haze of darkness started to blur my vision when I felt nothing but ground as I was dropped, and my body screaming for air with deep heaves. I was still collecting my thoughts. When collar dropped to the ground before me. He didn't bother to pick it up before dragging me off by the hair. I had no idea what was going on, and struggled to keep up with His stride.

There was a voice that cute the dramatic silence I felt in the dusted path of pending doom, which I could only imagine. It was enough to make Him stop. Toss. Talk. Then walk off. And I, peeling myself from ground saw nothing but...another set of boots before me.

Going....Home.

"Love doesn't hide. It stays and fights. It goes the distance, that's why love is so strong. So it can carry you all the way home"
~Original author unknown.

I washed up, which was hard as my body was still on edge and now was aching. It was a different kind of ache, one of wanting more another of wanted a moment to rest. I think I blushed the whole time. Trying to get home felt like the longest walk of my life, but one filled with a thrill beyond words. I wanted to tell Him I did what was expected! I did Master! I was smiling like a fool. Oh I wanted Him proud of me! I had obeyed! I wanted this to make Him smile, at me.

He wasn't there when I arrived, but I was so happy. I found a rich pure longing to see Him. I wish Catch was there, I couldn't wait to tell her. So I was left to tell the Vulo's. Which was fine, I had become fond of the Vulo's. Cleaning out their wagon, feeding them, leaving out water, and then a pleasure in washing up again!

He still wasn't home. That was fine, because I was exhausted. I laid in the make shift slave spot that Catch created in the supply wagon. The feel of furs around my body was welcomed. I had little pebble bruises on my knees, and tender spots on my shoulders and elbows. Not to mention the endless throbbing deep down between my tender thighs. Even my breast hurt, in a tingle that wouldn't cease. It didn't take long for the slumber to cover me in a loving blanket of darkness.

It was late before I finally found the strength to step out of the wagon. I was still feeling very exhausted and for some reason, rest didn't make me feel better, it made things worse. I felt like someone had taking a fist to every part of my body. Though, I was wearing a warm smile against my lips. I think I could handle these kinds of beatings. Giggling to myself, I washed my face and started towards the wagon fires to see if Catch had anything cooking. I saw Him coming from the wagon! I about jumped out of my skin I was so excited. I would get to tell, I would get to tell, I would get to tell! I took a few deep breaths to stop the tears. Slavery had made me an emotional mess. I don't think I have ever cried so much in my life.

I never got past "Tal Master" for He told me stand, and the bells were removed. I felt my heart just jump around endlessly with it. Yes! YES! He found me worthy for bell removal! Yay! I was trembling, a few tears moistened my lashes, I know my green eyes were glossed, for my vision was becoming slightly hazed. I was looking towards Him, and the stirring in the pit of my stomach said, something isn't right here Red. He spoke before I could ask to.

"You now belong to Ayguili, go to his wagons"

Was He fucking serious? He just walked off to the fires and checked the cooking pots. It was over. Simple. Done with. I don't think I have ever had a feeling so close to hate in my life, as I did at that moment. My hand dropped down to my hip for something that hadn't been there in a very long time. I just turned and started walking through the rows of wagons. Not really towards my new Master's wagon, but around everyone closes to His. I spent the time Hating. How dare He collar me. How dare Him rip the closest thing to a sister from my arms. How dare He offer me a hint of a path and when I step to it, fucking kick me over to the next one. How DARE He make me think I could believe in one person. HOW DARE HE make me want to believe. I hated Him. That no good cold river tharlorian's ASS.

By the time I got to my new home, it was far into the night. I had no idea if He was there. I just sat on His wagon steps, fuming. I spoke to no one. I didn't bother to look at anyone. Until morning came and He was there, with a snap of fingers bringing me back to the here and now. I don't think I got any sleep, I was tired, weak, my heart hurt, angry for it hurting, and He, my new Master, had the fucking nerve to be kind.

He spoke to me. I wasn't sure of what. I could hear tones, see His lips move as I knelt before Him. My collar was removed, and a new one rested on the weight of my shoulders and soul. My second one. He touched my face lightly, brushing away my tears, He spoke again. Before walking off. Leaving me there, wrapped up in my self pity of being a thrown back slave, and trying to harden my heart.

I got up, and just went to go get dung with His other girls.

Flesh

Touch, how does one try to explain touch fully? Not so much the act, flesh touching flesh, but the reaction, which is to Feel. Even the act of feeling is hard also, as once the touch happens, feelings rise, and the grasp of emotions, visions and aromas explode around you. Its like a heighten of layers being fed into a fire that is going to take the final bit of fuel and give a burst of radiance.

And that is just caressing the surface of the, Touch.

The first touch was an outline of breast. It was warm, smooth, and the reactions were like pleasured pin pricks that started along the curve of my breast and centered at the peaks of very firmed nipples that were so constant as much as its feel if pain, would react with Ouch, the sounds that started to smolder from my chest, in a looped run between my thighs, along the tips of my toes before a shot up across my throat to the wet tease of my tongue was a moan.

This was different then healing hands that had totally awakened and stirred, it was fingers so gentle and gliding, skilled lips and feminine grace that felt so taboo, and yet, I touched back, cause, it was soft and sweet like warm fresh taffy you know will melt softly against the heat of your mouth, and its flavor linger long after its gone.

Lost in waves of that like the stream that was licking its wet coolness against my toes, there was a feeling of another. His scent of demand, was intoxicating, one I found I enjoyed when around Master's that carried it. Like warm mead coating the throat, this scent wrapped its phantom fingers along every inch of flesh, before it stared to twist inside. My Master had this scent, though His wasn't the same, no ones was the same, but its feel was a bit more of a prickle, but the teased feel now, made me think of Him. Do as told, demanded wants of Men, Oh my Master, please let this be what makes You proud! It was a feel inside, not just of flesh, but if His words swirling, for wasn't it by the waters He said this? Here I was for filling it. Or so I hoped.

Hope was something that popped like a bubble of thought when I felt mouth find places only one other had dared taste. It was something beyond the first time. It was a tongue feeding upon every delicate throb of raw desire, but motions were being forced by the sound of bodies in union, and scents of sex were lacing the air, and breathed in with every gasp. Moans were a tickle to heighten, that was like a divine bath of thick fresh dark honey being drizzled across my flesh.

The ahn's were rolling across my flesh, lifted higher and higher, tender feel of body beside me helped me feel secure. Was this another moment, a dead voice haunted me with be well's that even I wasn't sure if it had really crossed my mind when His words were throbbing deeply against my skin. It was when even I could smell the trickle of copper between my thighs at the tight demand that was a pull of my guts, and deafening drum of heart. Tears salted my cheeks, thighs were burning, and each motion was a thrust of flesh being formed across thickness. It hurt, it was amazing, searing of passion being birthed within. I finally understood, yet was clouded by questions shoved to the side with every motion of my body reacting, with sweet nectar that made the second lesson one pushing the first further.

Gentle left after a few times of finding myself soaring in the clouds, sore seemed to be just an added feel to what was being mixed deep inside of me. I was grounded well, when I found myself grasped and pressed with a turn of breast crushed into the ground. Grass, smalls stones the rich aroma of dirt was nice. For the honey laced everything. The savage demand was taken, it scared me at first, I was afraid, the feel of hands, on me, taking, just taking whatever He wish. What was there to be taken. Its sensations were different, raw, primal, fear lingered but I found a pleasure in it.

Even when the thick flow of wetness was well coating my inner thighs, did He not release the feel of Him inside of me. We spoke, He touched, I was worn, but the feel of His thigh, wet, hot, muscled on the back of mine as I was pulled up, was a surprise as my body would, even in its weakened gasping state, brush with a grind of hips, as it was firmly keeping us, still one.

I couldn't help but cry, still. I had never known, anything like this. I was afraid to dress when He did. I took a few ehns, to just learn to breath again.

Sweet Dreams

Turn the lights on

Every night I rush to my bed
With hopes that maybe I'll get a chance to see you
When I close my eyes I'm going out of my head
Lost in a fairytale, can you hold my hands and be my guide?


Clouds filled with stars cover the skies
And I hope it rains, you're the perfect lullaby
What kinda dream is this?


You could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)


Sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Somebody pinch me, your love's too good to be true
(Turn the lights on)


My guilty pleasure, I ain't going no where
Baby long as you're here I'll be floating on air
'Cause you're my


You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)


I mention you when I say my prayers
I wrap you around all of my thoughts
Boy you're my temporary high


I wish that when I wake up you're there
To wrap your arms around me for real
And tell me you'll stay by side


Clouds filled with stars cover the skies
And I hope it rains, you're the perfect lullaby
What kinda dream is this?


You could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)


Sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Somebody pinch me, your love's too good to be true
(Turn the lights on)


My guilty pleasure, I ain't going no where
Baby long as you're here I'll be floating on air
'Cause you're my


You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)


Tattoo your name across my heart so it will remain
Not even death can make us part
What kind of dream is this?


You could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)


Sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Somebody pinch me, your love's too good to be true
(Turn the lights on)


My guilty pleasure, I ain't going no where
Baby long as you're here I'll be floating on air
'Cause you're my


You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you
(Turn the lights on)
Either way I don't wanna wake up from you



-Beyonce

Bitch's Please. I am so throught with it.

I struggled the whole walk back to my Master's wagons. I could feel this sticky dampness forming against my inner thighs again, the tingle of my breast, so free in the air. I was naked, yet fully dressed in bells and collar. Every smooth chime of my bells sent this jolt of succulent warmth so deep it was like a flow of my own blood traveling around my toes, finger tips and even to my lips. I took tingled breaths. Looking up to the Sky I wondered how it was I slept so long. It was bright, a flush of white, grey, orange, brown and yellow demanding I focus to the day. I would have to tell Catch I'm sorry, for by this time dung collecting was long over, and it was bad enough she had triple duty, but today, I had no doubt she would have taken up with me not being...there in flesh.


It was like the longest path ever walked, pressing fingers against the middle of steps, leaning into them to find balance. How was I to make it throughout the day like this? I was afraid to blink. For every bit of darkness was a spastic rush of remembrance. Moist forehead was touched by fingers, but not my own, quivering before pressing down against the layered edges of incline. Had I just lost all my strength to keep fighting this? It was a touch. Sound, echoed over and over again, as the touch went to my shoulders, turning me over, and I held fingers against my breast, heart, oh fuck, what was going on? I still heard it, lifted joy, was I moving? Dancing? Fingers entwined in my own, they were soft, and slender, tight in a twist of my body swung around with a release finding me a tumble against the chilled grass under the wagon. I just wanted to lay there, suckling the sweet air, closing my eyes, I could have just fallen into another slumber. No, I was moving. Blades of grass were running around my hips as a grasp pulled me back out of shadows by the sensitive flare of feel tight on my ankles again. There was light, trying to pry a hand off myself to shield my eyes, as my flesh wanted darkness. I felt the fall of another body against me, leaving me breathless, cause, damn she was heavy. Popping a playful kiss on my forehead with a giggle.

Tell me all about it, tell me! I know the looook tell me, you wicked little secret keeping slut!

Pushing up by my elbows, Yasmine did snap me out of the moment. I was thankful. I was. I could finally breath. It was a story to tell, though she was just as thrilled over the lack of completely being taken. Just pulling me to my feet she walked around me, reaching out to touch a nail against my hip, then thigh, breast, and shoulder. Jumping up and down to ask me if I felt the change...

Change?

Yes, the change in the way I moved. The way I would give a sultry roll of hips instead of just a sudden jot of movement out of the way. The way I leaned into it, before brushing back with a flexed stretch of flesh. I felt it. I saw it in a vision of myself. I wanted to run to Him, show Him, beg Him to touch my breast! Touch my hair, touch me anywhere and I will be Your slave to please! I wanted to tell Him, it wasn't my virginity of flesh that was broken it was my virgin mind. My virgin spirit. It was transformed. I wanted to learn it!

Look Master, I can be a sensual slut too!

Now I needed to paint my mind, needs, the story of Red, with His name before every word of the tale. I could do this! If this was all it took, then I would have this slave thing down, with a kiss, lick, fuck and a smile.

Pity what things one learns, from being wrong again.

It started with a question. I was at the stream filling botas, more like I had filled botas, and I was sitting in the stream waist deep in the heated afternoon, feeling how the waves were waking up my new skin. Cooling this Red girl down. It was nice. A sound of steps, I was thrilled. Master's friend was here, goodie! I would show Mistress my new skin! I got up, walking to where I left the basket from picking berries with Yasmine earlier, slipping on the newly shaped ebon shift, not to be flashing my naked flesh before the Mistress. She didn't need to know all my discoveries. Taking a bowl out of my basket I would offer berries to the Mistress once I settled to my kneel near Her. Mistress Mezoo arrived! This was turning out to be a great day! Mistress brought upon so much color in my life, I was thankful and wanting of more each time we meet.

Mistress Cana broke my dreamy thoughts with a question. I could handle questions. The new and improving Red, armed with her Master's gift of reincarnation, was ready! Heck yeah! Lets do this!

"One thing, one answer. What is most important to you"

Wow! I know this one, it was started with a sudden burst of emotion. It was like I had wished on every falling star that ever crossed the Sky that I would be asked that. I felt the words as I spoke them. They were my dream, my goals, my new life.

"To let my actions show, how much I honor my Master"

Zing, Zing, Ding, Ding, and the slave goes in for the home stretch of the race to salvation!

Ping.

WRONG.

Huhhuh say what?

"The most important thing in the core of everyone, whether they are free or slave, is survival."

Then she asked if I agree with that. If I thought that, I would have said it first You narrow, Free minded, moody Wench. Now I wanted to say that, but I just stated, I didn't agree.

"You do not think living is important?"

"It only is, if its for His will, Mistress. If I was told not to move, cause of wager of men and I died in not moving, then I died for His honor and not my own instinct to duck Mistress. "

In other words, just rewording in a simpler way for the Mistress to understand what I said in the first place! Thinking, maybe hoping that would be the end of it, until the Mistress said I wasn't being honest! I damn near freaked out, saying I was lying, restating my views were different now, then a couple days ago, but no, the wild river tharlorian bitch took a hold of my hair and put a quiva to my throat! It seemed like an obvious point being made, as all I could think of is...Master would not like this. This was His friend, and again I was making Her angry it seemed. Oh fuck, my Master is not going to be happy, No no no, I was doing so good, please don't let my Master see this!

Then She just had to ask....

"Now tell me, what was your first thought just now?"

"Master is going to be unhappy with me"

I was crying. Just wanted to run to find my Master and beg Him to forgive me, for making this Mistress unhappy. I didn't want to do wrong again! So sooooooon! I just wanted to scream. Master, I am trying, Master, I am! I could feel the emotions thick in a lump of my throat with my tears press the already marked line of cut that was placed there. One of those painful layering of skin that one might get from reaching in a crate they didn't know the blade was in and getting their finger, but this, was a line of my throat, and it was throbbing as fast as my heart. As I felt her fingers press it in more, and the warmth of blood was like copper and chilli peppers of scents filling my senses.

"That is a very self-serving answer slave. You expect me to believe, that even for the briefest moment, the thought did not flit across your mind, that you did not want to die?"

"It was more of a given Mistress, though Master was my first thought, cause death doesn't scare me, its a part of life, one more real for me as a slave, but His anger was first, cause You have no idea what I have gone through the last day Mistress."

I was saying the same thing over and over again. She wouldn't get it, She let me know She didn't care what I had gone through. That alone told me no matter how much I tried to let Her know the same thing over and over again...THE TRUTH...She would never understand. Mistresses are selfish. I was one of them. I was glad that selfish woman died. They can't see into our eyes. They can't feel what we do. I had been feeling an ache of it when my one safe zone was ignoring that this crazy bitch wanted to kill me. Mistress Mezoo had not said a thing, until now, and it meant...nothing. I was going to die, and all I guess She would see was how neat the pretty red steps of her boots would look against the green grass as She left to do whatever, after this Mistress killed me. I felt, alone there. I wanted my Master so badly. The one I thought I was safe with and who felt every bit of me, showing me, my slavery. I was nothing when others were around. Soon to be nothing but flesh paint on the hands of some insane fingers.

"I'd wager it was a good second thought"

Was all She said. Well, fuck You very much Mistress. She took Her paint early. Nice. She was wrong too, but I wouldn't say so. My second thought was some sleen bitch mean Mistress would be getting to pickle my eyes soon enough. I was felt sick. Sick with this lesson in life. I didn't try to be Red again. I didn't. I was just, some slave. Some slave, whose flesh was nothing, mind was nothing, and who was not more then some drone to please the Free who wanted nothing more then to get reminded who was in charge. Them. Cause I knew.

"I want an honest answer. Do you want to survive out here?"

"Yes, Mistress, I do want to survive."

Then the Slave would answer with a few more sprinkles of "Yes, Mistress" in Her self idolizing rants of greatness and knowledge, while Red cried and felt her heart twist under barbs of bladed wire, that they would say to her Master, she lied. That They would tell her Master only what They wanted to. And the reality of it all.

What they had to say would be the only thing that mattered.

I would pray to find my Master first. To tell Him everything. How sorry I was to upset Her, that I wasn't sure if I should....really lie. I didn't want to, I felt it wrong, I wanted to please Him. She was His friend and I wanted to please Her, but I saw I couldn't. To tell Him, how sorry I was. How much I didn't want to be.....So Sorry.

My last event was of the night was.

Shedding my trust skin.

I saw right now, the only one I could trust was my Master. Everything He said, happened. Everything He demanded would be done. There was no question with Him. What I saw is what was there. What words spoken, were never twisted or meant anything but what He expected from me. This is what I knew so far. Fuck the rest, they would get THE SLAVE, if that is what pleased them. Master owned all of Red.

A slave.

"So you want to learn touch?"

It was said in a way that no answer was expected. A question thrown out not to be completed...at least by me. I felt a shiver just start to snake its way across my spine. He motioned me to stand, which I did, quickly. The soft cross of arms were low in a twisted little fingers hooking together across my stomach, as I held still feeling the bit of slave rag I had been wearing that day removed from my hips. I was nude. Before a man who was not my Master. Why did this feel so....taboo? I think my thoughts showed as I uncurled the fingers not touched out into a mock fan lowered to try to keep my modesty from eyes. This time He didn't laugh, His grin was, mischievous. He seemed to be....sizing me up. My skin started to pimple up in texture feeling cold, bare and exposed.

His fingers were warm, against my chin being drawn up under the feel of pressure. I felt my body resist only slightly though honestly I wanted to obey. I could feel the heated breaths He was exhaling against my lips, making me breath in the essence of Him. It was hot, moist and yet, cool when I let my lips part slightly to suckle in the breaths to taste them. Like frost on a day where the humidity was causing skin to sweat freely. I was lost in His eyes. They were seeking, not just looking at me. I felt an electrical prickle at the way His eyes were twisting into my mind. It made the words He spoke echo, like a banging of drums swallowed down my throat as the vibration pushed down to my heart.

"Tell me what touch you crave right now"

The feeling that came forth with that would proceed words. It was a craving, like when one sees something golden and warm, and wants to taste the feel of honey drizzled against the white core of freshly baked bread. You know the flavor by heart and the desire of it wouldn't be sated until you had it. I felt that, just then. I had to have it. A buzzing at my ears almost let my mind form visions of bees around His eyes that I was lost in. Yes, they were like rich wild honey. Running the wet of my tongue against the roof of my mouth as I swallowed as if it was truly there.

"A kiss....Master. Just a kiss"

With that, I felt the softness of darkness overcome me. The scent of His arms and feel of muscles across my cheek with the bind of the cloth behind my head that blinded me. With a touch of fingers across my stomach I was pressed against a post of wood. I could feel the outline of every cut when the bark was removed. Metal that then locked to my wrist, shackles, links, I heard chains. I almost was sick with the comfort my mind seemed to wrap around in chains. Something screamed. It screamed in the back of my head.

STOP!

Wordless cries from somewhere. She begged me to stop. No, I can't. They make me safe. I feel them across my flesh, it was like water droplets touching raw fire, the searing of pleasure at skin. What was He doing? The voice was getting softer, she was hurting, crying. I was trying to hold my breath so He wouldn't hear me almost at a suffered pant. Touching me...was not just fingers. It was sharp edges that made my lips tremble. It was rope, knots pressed against my inner upper arms to keep them far above my head as in the darkness I could only envision me displayed out before eyes. Ankles were burning. Captured, pulled back as thighs spread with just a slight fight of weight now at the arms of my own balance.

Was I bleeding? The voice died deep inside of me. I knew the voice, it was Vivica, but she was gone. Sweat rolled in balls across the plains of my body that He touched. I knew she was gone when I felt a finger touch inside of me. Inside of the place I truly knew she was protecting. The finger toyed against the resistance there. It was like the tip had just been searching it. It was caressed, and tears rolled down my face. I waited for the fable of pain, but it didn't happen, He didn't take the last part of me, that I considered whole. Unbroken. It was brushed, in a daring tease, that kept making me gasp. The pressure was new, it was like fear of unknown. I was afraid to move, but I couldn't stop.

MASTER!

I screamed when I felt teeth clamp to a nipple. I was whimpering Master, Master, Master...over and over again. The stinging feel of flesh pulled to a harden peak was then overcome by a rush of warmth I didn't expect when I felt the roll of tongue stroke inside of His mouth. I didn't even notice He had pulled the finger out of me, when He bit me, but I did quickly notice where it was now when my other nipple was captured. He was toying with places only mint oil had ever teased. It was.....

AmaZinG.

The feel that swelled not only between the folds of my virgin flesh, but it ran from my toes all the way to my fingers and I trembled. The sound of chained links hitting against each other was this erotic mixture to where I couldn't imagine anything better until His mouth found the flesh right under my navel. The touch there....I never knew it to be so sensitive. I felt weight of thicker chains now draped around my shoulders so when I moved the links hit heavy against my breast. His mouth lowered, and I was afraid again. What was He doing? Why.....was He doing this to me?

Master, PLEASE!

By the time the last word hissed from my lips His had captured me. My mind was..soaring, my body rising up on wings of emotions, feelings, ecstasy. I wanted the SKY, I screamed for the SKY, it wouldn't stop, no, didn't want it to STOP! Chains were hurting....hurting so deliciously sweet, I tasted chocolate, with a honey center at my tongue, the smell was one of myself. I smelled my own pleasure, it was rich and thick. Feel of fleshed warmth lapping, then the graze of smooth pearls caused a warmth that made me cry out..

NO! NO NO PLEASE!

When He stopped.

I couldn't breath, my body was still a figure of wet flames, and I was thrusting my hips into air that only caused it to burn hotter. It was in the darkness, agony, did a chuckle break the gasp of my whimpers. One that was fading. He was walking out and each thick press of boots across the wooden wagon floors made my clit throb as if it was slapped.

I fell asleep sometime after that. I don't remember when. I don't even remember being released from the shackles that my wrist felt as if were still bound. I do remember waking up in a pool of chains and shivers. The touch of a slave kissing my lips, as she pulled away the blindfold and smiled to me as if she didn't care that I was shocked and amazed, and still so very confused at what my body was doing, or that it was still aching at this moment. She helped me up and it was a good twenty ehns of her soft touches, rubbing away the patterns the chains left on me from sleeping in the blanket of links before she spoke.

Did He give you everything you wanted?

I shook my head slowly as I was simmering in this need still that flared when she said it. I could feel her kiss still at my lips, her touches painted on my flesh.

He gave me nothing I wanted.

She kissed me again before helping me on my trembling feet.

I know, and wasn't it amazing?

Oh sweet Sky above....it was. My body desired, and I, did...also.

Feeling like...............

It was getting dark, and Master wants us back by dark. I had one more task to get finished. Mistress Mezoo had asked me to deliver a gift to a Healer Master, from the Ubar and Herself. I loved the smell of new leather, it was deep and soothing. It had the tang of the dried fruits and in another basket was meat, flour, and salts. I walked it over towards His wagon, for I was told to meet Him there this evening. He was busy earlier. He wasn't hard to find, it seemed many knew the healer which made sense to me. Plus I had a name to ask for. Mistress had been kind to me in this journey and I wasn't out to be messing up. The improved Red, was doing things with a smile and making sure they got done right!

I had time to ponder a few things as I sat on His wagon steps. I watched some slaves around the wagon tend to their evening duties and now and then look back to me with a smile. I didn't bother them, cause honestly they looked really busy. I felt a tad bit useless on the steps holding stuff, but I was going to make sure He got it. I wondered.....if His mood was a good one, would He help with my...sensual issues. He was a healer and all. Perhaps He could show me, what would be the proper reactions. It all made sense to me. I leaned my head against the saddle bags and fell asleep, lured by dreams of saddles, kaiila's and strong Masters riding naked on patrol. Naked on patrol. Oh goodness. I think the dream even shocked me while dreaming cause I sat up with a startle then screamed when I was face to face with all kinds of eyes, noses, scars and mouth.

The chuckle and the feel of hands on my shoulders calmed me as the Master said to be still, for He was enjoying watching me sleep. He hoped I didn't drool all over that fine looking leather. I was so embarrassed! Not only had I screamed all in his face, but fingers brushed my lips to see if there was any moist lines down the corners of my mouth. I was good, and he was laughing again seeing my sudden body check, and I swear I didn't have a freckle left on my face with how red I was feeling. Collecting my wits, I gathered the items, watching Him walk towards His fires and took a seat as the girls were around Him, serving Him. I kneeled close to the side, waiting for Him to finish His talk with both slaves, before they went back to what work they were doing. Finally He motioned me closer. Giving a little scoot closer, He seemed amused. Told me to go ahead and tell Him about what I had in my arms.

I told of the gifts from the Master Ubar and Mistress for the great care He gave to Mistress Cana. He seemed pleased taking the items and looking them over with pride. He said He would have to make sure to thank them for such gifts. He continued to stare at me, and honestly it was making me very nervous to ask my questions. I was trying to figure out a way to do so, when I jumped again with a little odd squealing noise when I felt Him touch my face. I swear I wanted to dig a hole in the ground under the fire as I watched Him lean back bellowing out in laughter that almost had Him fall over on the bucket He was sitting on. He made a very good call of judgement on me. He said I was very tense and wound up. Not to mention He bet not even a tarsk would sound better then the sound I just made. I could do nothing but agree. But I was being a little Warrior of a slave, and remembering I had the seal of my Master's good name on the cloaked skin of slavery I was wearing. I slowly breathed out the words of the question I had for Him.

"Master, I know Your a healer so I have no doubt Your good with Your hands, would You show me...How to enjoy having my breast touched? That way when another wishes to touch them, I might be found desirable? But in a sensual way, not all slutty Master. "

He just looked at me, and again, there went that laughter. Now I was feeling like a huge naive big red boob. For some reason, as He looked me over, His features changed slightly. His eyes glossed a hue darker as for the first time I noticed how light brown they had been, but...that was gone. His smile of humor turned into a smirk of, hunger. Lifting to His feet, I was looking to move out of His way as the shadow coated over me. He grasped my hair, and started to walk towards a wagon two wagons back from the one we had been sitting in front of. His two girls looked at me in almost an envious way. I wish I could have yelled out, come hurry, take my place! But that wasn't what the new and improved Red was going to do. I was stumbling to keep steps up with Him, as He had a very quick stride. The wagon was black inside, until after He released my hair, and let me fall to the ground, a few candles were lit. I could smell the fire, wax that was a simple scent of....dates. I looked around the wagon and there was a few post, a chair, a table, and lots of chains. There was a large counter beside this wooden base that just looked like a very high legged very narrow bench. For some reason all I thought about was, that wouldn't be very comfortable to sit upon.

He seemed to ignore me for now, and had the nerve...to be whistling. It wasn't a bad tune, it was rather one that was catchy and happy in this...odd wagon. I wondered what the girls I passed liked about it. It wasn't colorful. Though I had a side thought that some bright blue on those poles and maybe a hint of yellow on that narrow bench would work some wonders in here. Really pop out some life in this wagon.

When He turned and looked at me, with that same grin as by the fire....I never in my mind would have expected.....

A new shoulder to cry on.

I was on a mission. To find this large Tuchuk Master who likes to drink paga. My first instinct was to look for Catch, I wanted to say I was sorry. I was sorry I made Master angry. I'm sure that made her unhappy as much as Him, and I didn't want either unhappy with me. I did a walk by the wagons, fed the vulos, picked up some loose feathers of down that were floating around and placed them in a basket under the now coined Vulo wagon. I wondered if my Master would get another slave wagon for us. Even if we snuck to sleep in His, I figured the Mistress that was openly fond of Him would be moving in soon. I wanted to be shy of Her, cause only once when I offered to serve Her did She wish nothing from me, but glowed at the arrival of Catch, a while back. I wouldn't want shit from me either with the way I have been, I suppose. I would shrug that off, though it would remain a back of the head thought also, in polishing myself up, Slave wise.

So no Catch around, off to the central fires I went. I saw Him there when we crossed paths last. I needed to beg that lesson in Breast Love. I felt my heart drop some when I had toyed the thought of just kinda hitting up the first Master I saw downing some paga. I mean, maybe He might remember ever seeing me before, which probably would be the case, but seen one red head, seen them all right? Of course I have never seen anyone as speckled as me, but lets hope for blurred vision. I wanted this lesson badly. No Masters were there relaxing. Just the regular of some walking around, talking, working on Their wagons, but no one really around the base of circled furs. There was a slave girl, one I have never seen before. I was trying to get my wits together as I almost...ALMOST felt tears from not being able to find 'That' Master. It had been an exhausting day so far, and just late in the afternoon!

I was trying to get everything done at once. I needed to take a deep breath and relax. No hurry Red, let things happen as it would. I was starting to chill out a bit until the girl started to speak. It was clear she had been here awhile, seemed very seasoned as a slave, I almost was hopeful for kind guidance and a soft smile to help me out. Something like Catch would do. Not what I got. I started to tell what was plaguing me and it was like a pariah of an ending for my moment as the girl seemed to alter into this being of snappy judgement and feel of upper rule over me. It made me angry. Angrier when she went on about how she had the best Master on the plains, and how I had a Good Master, though it seemed He had a sorry excuse of a slave. Yup, that did it. I let all kinds of angry tones let her know if she talked about my Master's property like that again, it would be from a bloody lip! We did a few exchange of words, that ended with me throwing a rock right for that wiggling ass that walked off from me.

I stayed a bit longer. I finished shaking out and smoothing the sitting furs, then entertained myself with a camp girl who said her name was Leave. The name, puzzled me, but she seemed to love it. I did ask what was the story behind it, she said, she loved her Master. I said, really? She would just nod. I watched her as she wove a basket of long stream grass waiting for more. Seeing she wasn't going to give it, I said...Leave? She said...Yeah, He did, but I do love my new Master. I was...confused. So I said...what do you mean Leave? Seeing she was a camp slave and all, maybe it was the Ubar. She said...No, you can stay, thought you came over to learn how to make baskets. Okay....I saw where this was going. I thought I was going one up on her when I said simply....I don't want to leave, I want to stay. She got me. If you don't want to learn, then there is no reason to stay. I, smiled, and watched a bit longer, she let me pinch the edging, and then gave me a bundle to try to do myself before she had to...Leave.

I put the stalks to the side, figured I would work on them back at the wagon and would instead start to work on dough for bread later at the central fires. Still looking for the Paga Breast Master, as I would break after an ahn and eat a small bowl of some bosk strips as I sat on the supply wagon steps. The girl came back. The one I threw a rock at. This time...she was nice. So nice, and spoke of learning to fit in, I started to cry again. I didn't want her to see. I just kept my hair over my face, and my back towards her as we spoke. Her words were kind, and honest. They were true. She said its hard the first time. Just take a deep breath, be sensual, not slutty, and let the Master's do what they want to do. She came up to me and wanted to start over, telling me her name was Nakia, and she hugged me. She let me cry on her shoulder. It was nice to have someone catch me....when she wasn't there.

Falling out of the box.

I was before Him. Slave. No name, no acknowledge of being beyond Slave. The one thing I had missed in all of this. He allowed me to speak, beg, make promises not promised, but promised as much as I could with my last breath. I learned, even as I spoke. I had time to think, learn, hurt, and see. He listened. He answered. Again things I had so taken for granted. In the end, I was Red. Being Red never felt like such a gift as it did that moment. I was still His...for now. Pending feeling of, I had a lot of work to do, and I could only thank Him for the chance to do it. What a wonderful Master I had...no. What a wonderful Master I belonged to. I could tell from the smells of sharp green stalks of emotion, I wouldn't have been lucky with any other, but Him. For this, I couldn't thank Odin, He didn't live here. There was only Their devotions to the Sky. I was happy, She was above me for this. I kept...crying. I hate crying, but crying I did. It flowed like breaths of air. Breath, Weep, Breath, Tears, Breath, Swallow, Breath, Sniffle, Breath, Cry. I was so trying to stop. I was! It was a different flavor of Happy mixture of yellow sugar with a twist of tospit shame in self, but creamy like a new lesson thick and wonderful against the tongue. My tears were luke warm across my freckled face. This learned moment of emotions, like tospit custard. Its taste so different from the name, in a very pleasant way. His lesson. Get out of my box. I almost begged for a boot to help wedge my ass out of it. Or my head out of my ass. I think I would have really said it, but something told me....He would really do it. I wasn't looking to put grindy dust in my custard. Thank You, Master! I was tearing the box down, and its top was gone forever at the feeling...the burst of joy. Hot sticky sweet taffy melting at my tongue kinda feeling that makes you giggle as you try to work it down to a bead of ability to speak again. He...Master...He...Oh my fluttered heart! Said it sounded like the vulo's were well taken care of! Why did that statement, and not to me, per say, do this to me? There rolled a nice wet falling splash on grass. Baking custard with one of those crust that were buttery delicate.


I spoke with a Mistress for a while, from His side. She asked..about me. Being a slave. My feelings. Damn it all. Made my custard a bit more watery. Salty droplets dancing down. The Mistresses seemed to enjoy some water time. Making playful sexual innuendo's It was harmless, but wow, had me thinking from everything from long lances to tingled mint oil between my thighs. I had to ask. I waited until They, the Mistresses left, and spoke a few things on my mind. Master, I said don't touch, its not Yours to! He would speak to Him about that. He made it all clear. It didn't ruin my baked Custard of feeling, but it sure put in another. Find Him, beg Him to teach You to like the touch. Thoughts of splintered railing was clouding the thought of being taught. Sex? Of course, if it is desired by whomever wishes it. He left, I watched Him go. Its not about giving, its about..it just being taken. I, was, scared of myself again.

Learning...to leave myself behind

Close your eyes and look at everything around you. Do you not see the
creases of palms extended out around you? Some large, some small, some
soft and delicate and others with coarse edges of history written on
finger tips. Each one, hand after hand with just the first of knuckles
bent ready to hold anything placed upon its dipped palm. What will you put
there? A bit of flesh? A bit of spirit? The core of soul? Or will it be
the vibrations of heart in one and the sleepers slack of flesh draped
across the other? Tell me what will you do with all these hands?


Eyes open and logic locked away did you see one hands fingers spread free?
Did you see the flow of pride slip between the fingers like droplets of
gold? Hitting the ground like diamond chips so frail the shattered in
glittered dust around feet that would be cut at a step of its pain of
losing such? Blood streams heated in disappointment followed as you beg to
sweep it in the brush of hair as You beg to feel the cup of fingers again?
You see that its not their blood you clean but your own, and it scares
you. You scream and curl back into brick walls made of crystal and a roof
of glass.


Close your eyes to realize that those hands are still there. Empty they
are weighted down and tired. Will you offer something to bring back their
strength? Did you notice feet made of stone not moving, never moving,
planted firm like the three of knowledge and eternal life. Did you see
there is no lock on the glass roof you always look out of and the beauty
outside of those perfection of crystal walls? You don't have to do
anything but stand, and take one of those hands. Some are aging, but yet
not moving, like mountains of love with gifted belief in you. Why have you
not shown them?


Eyes open and you scream. You see the muck of oiled claws leaving dirty
gashes around your arm when you reach out. Just a quick lifted lid of
clear light steel of self worth that you just can't lift. What hurts you
so? Do you not notice blacken talons of your own hand? Drowning from the
cup you fill just to allow the bottomless base tell you its not enough.
Losing self in others ideas that mean nothing to you. Laugh at self
destruction of melting pride as if it will be formed again under the heat.
Weep at your own art, that you continue to hang in the corners of your
cell.


Close your eyes seeing the reality of small voices vengeance only burning
acid words of what you taught them. Stand up you scream as muscles ache in
flex and you take the first hand beside you. The box turned into
shimmering sand that was cool and nice against your feet. It hurt, to
speak with skin peeled away by a blade taken for a still up turn palm.
They had all the tools to find yourself, if you wished to use them. For
your touch can only find the real person inside. They are there. Only now,
do I see.

Conversation with myself-2009