Childs Play

I liked to watch Lei and Also by the stream talking.

They could be just building something by the shore, or I have seen Also write words on the soft shore line showing Lei. I knew a few words, not many, not enough to say I could read and write. I picked some up out of years of being read to. I knew how to write my name. Vivica. My old name. My first birth name. I knew how to write Little Red. For Blushes showed me how to stitch it on my personal items. When Big Red would accuse me of taking her scarf or shawl I could just show it was MINE. Big Red could read, and would then tell Father Blush's was teaching me things I didn't need to know. I remember the first time she told Father that, and didn't tell Father what the "Didn't need to know" things consisted of, Father assumed the worse and Blush's got lashed with a Kurt. I remember crying in my room after I tore every page from Big Red's Journal, climbed the stone fence and let the breeze scatter her words across the fields. She was livid, and screamed the whole time at slaves, that were trying to help her pick them up after I had walked to my room to let all my emotions be released. I soaked my pillow and for a moment thought I would just drown in salted waters and vulo feathers. It was the only time ever Big Red got the switch which was so normal to me and Von. Not for him having to whip his slave, his love slave, the one who raised his children when Mother died, but because Big Red didn't tell him the whole truth. He was feeling bad he let his anger fly and his daughter to sway his better judgement. He told her, she would make a better head Mistress of the hall, to never tell half truths. Her people will respect her and her companion trust her.

I say he should have beat Big Red just cause she was selfish and didn't want me to learn how to read like her. Which was fine, cause though she was sore, Blush's was there that night to bring me dinner when I refused to come to the table, and brush my hair back with her fingers as she read me another tale from some far away land.

So yes, just watching Also write something in the sand brought back so many memories. They have been flooding me lately. Not sure...why now, but they have. Maybe cause I was feeling so many things at once, I wasn't sure which feeling to sort out first. The new ones or the old ones. For now, I would just find that happy point and work from there.

Leaving leathers to dry, I started towards the children. I thought I was all bright and wrote a series of amazing words in the sand also. Of course they were amazing to me! Lei was nice enough to look like she was impressed as I think I saw a smudge smile form to Also's lips as he told me good job, and read each of what I wrote.

Love
War
Devotion
Happiness
Wonder
Bright
Longing
Sad
Fear
Victory
The End

I knew a few more, but didn't want to get overly haughty. I told the children about a game me and Von use to play as children. We had leather thongs that we used to swirl and toss pebbles up over the stone fence we had. Sometimes we would fling semi dried mud balls, in the cold, snow balls, in the dry season, spoiled nut shells from trees, fallen redfruit, even vulo eggs, though it was very naughty to waste them, but get a spoiled one that never hatched...perfect little bomb to tag someone with! I told them how we would get the eggs to see how quick we were. One would pace the fence back and forth on top like a target, and the other would be in a distance and try to hit the other person off the fence. Of course they seemed to ask why.....why not? it was fun! I laughed and told them to wait a few ehn's, I would be right back. I ran towards the wagons to pull out the basket of scrap leather I had for patches, taking three long strips, that would work, I grabbed a bucket also. I ran back to the children, just excited! Oh it was like a bit of home brought back to me. I wasn't sure if it would be considered a weapon of sorts or such, so I was careful not to place anything in my sling, but show them how they could be twirled almost like the bola's I have noticed in these parts of the land the Warriors used. Except one didn't release the leather, they would flick the wrist enough to send the object balanced in the middle of the center of it, send it flying out across the land. I looked around for a good target. I told them to pick a wagon canvas that was easy to see. I showed them a few times, with small pebbles how to balance them in the center while twirling. Then when to release to send it flying! They asked a million questions, that mostly made me giggle. The last thing I gave them once I saw they had mastered the basic's were, the bucket I brought with me.

They looked in the bucket and saw what really now made them both giggle too. Even Also, who would clear his throat to cease the young child's giggle to a forced chuckle that made me and Lei both fall into another fit of amusement, and Also would just smile. I had used some dyes left over from dying leathers and colored dozen's of what use to be creamy bone colored Urt Skulls into red and black. I told them to thank Yaz for the nice supply. Handing them the bucket, I said to have fun, I had leathers to fold, I wished to do it with them, but to know they would enjoy it, I could handle also. I smiled all day thinking of the flinging of colored Skulls all over camp.

I feel.....Pretty

The slave wagon was so empty. I find myself wishing in the darkness of the evening that there would be more chained against its walls. I am not chained, by will, more of, by choice. Though there is no lock on the shackle I like to put a nice little scarlet ribbon through where the lock would seal to keep it around my slender ankle in the evenings.

I felt my life began not by only submitting to live, but protected by His chain. I wish I would have appreciated that more when I had the chance to. Perhaps I was........maturing? Maturing into what though? I was finding more beauty in my life everyday. I loved the way Yasmine's eyes shimmered when she spoke of some brave did her Master did, or just of Him in general. Even when she wasn't so happy with Him, and bitched about not having been touched, or Him not giving her more then a second glance when she took His lunch, her eyes still held that..speck of pleasured light..of being His. When I watched Catch, her shimmer was different. It was complex and yet, pure. She loved Him in the same way, but a bit different. Yasmine had a lifetime of slavery over me and Catch. We were both new, and saw it in a different views. Her eyes didn't just sparkle but reflected the vision of Him in them. Now and then I would catch myself watching her, everything she did, wrapped this cloak of feeling of Him. I wanted one of those cloaks. I wanted His cloak, but I was still trying to figure out how to get it. I was still just painting myself in His background. I would do wash of the men around His wagons as Mistress Mezoo said to. I found myself, carefully going to take just one pair of leathers of His, cause I feared to tarnish the worship of good work Catch did around His wagons. She was the familiar, the Pretty one. The Pretty Slave. She moved with this sticky sweet taffy of desire that made ones mouth water. Like watching the vendor at market pull the warm Taffy in long strands before they would find the mold to set on the cart. It made one just want to touch it, feel its firm yet soft sides that melted flavored sugar and fun at your lips. One wouldn't even need to eat the Taffy, to know it was twisted in colored wax paper in a bowl on the table was enough to bring joy. That is how I felt when I would see Catch working by the fires, or finish taking out fur carpets to be beaten from His wagon. The Pretty Girl. She made just the vision of the wagon sugary sweet.

I admired how brave she was to do so. I wasn't that brave yet. Yasmine would tease me and tell me to ask Catch how to make one of His favorite meals to take Him while He was out on patrol. I wanted to ask! I did! But when I stepped towards the wagons to try to make myself more then just a background, I let pot holes of self doubt stumble me to the ground and favor the throbbing of injured pride and self confidence. So again, I let my fingers press into the fresh painted canvas of bravery and once more finger paint myself into the form of wagons and sky. Again. Background. Like a red blotch behind a wagon wheel. Time to time I dare out to let the spot roll around the fires, even towards Him, but each time, did the spot melt back into the shadows. What a pity that spot.

What a pity.

Pity ponders pitted piles perplexity pulled properly placed plunders.

That summed it up.

Phooey plotted pagan pictures.

Time to let the red spot roll!

Service

Today I found the key to my heart upon the ground
On a path walked a million times before.

Seeing my future in the dusted part of my past
Every little emotion like grains of sand
Rolling down the glassed narrow shaft
Very slowly building as I hold my breath
Even the stars were locked in the highest shine.

Willing to explore this erotic flavor at my tongue
It was spoken with tones smoother then silk
Toying the air heated with each purred ribbon
Held from its knot of my heart past my lips.

Lowering to feel velvet shadows comfort
Over me was a powerful shield
Vixen of need to give to its will
Eager to please with devotion.

Lip action

I woke up feeling the warm of tender sensual feeling against my cheek. It was a different sensation then I had ever felt. I gave a stretch remembering I had laid a fur under the servery wagon by the makeshift main fires during our time here. Master said I was to serve, and serve I would. I enjoyed the aroma's of cooking food and hot breezes that even stayed warm in the evenings. It took me a few ehns to wake up fully. It was like a brush of silk the way these lips kept smothering my cheeks. I giggled, a true girly giggle that was almost foreign at my lips. I always had a soft yet, enjoyable laugh of a Freedom. Nothing cute or giving, a truly selfish laugh.

I smiled, about to say something when I rested the depths of dark green eyes on Yasmine who was kissing my cheeks, when my mouth opened she shoved a piece of mint in my mouth suddenly and we both giggled then. I let the mint play around in my mouth as she gave me a peeled stick to clean my teeth with, and a bowl of water to wash up with until I had a chance to fully bathe. She started to twist my shift into another design for me to wear today when I asked her two questions. One...why was she here so early? And two, why the kisses?

It took her a few ehns to stop giggling while I washed my face, and started to clean my other parts I wanted to keep very fresh. The water had a bit of sugary sweet cinnamon and brown sugar scent. It was very relaxing to my senses, yet had a full feeling of refreshment. There was a proud look upon her features. She told me with this feel from her that was like a burst of sunshine that her Master won a new Turian, who truly wasn't as pretty as her, and was screaming for mercy without 5 ehns of the girl being thrown to her Master's furs this morning. Which means he will be wanting something hot and wanton this evening after fighting the girl all morning to break her into a true slave. She was glowing at the thought of it. I was pretty impressed.

Then she wrapped her arms around me and planted another kiss on my cheek. Now she was all up in my mix again and it was taking some getting use to. She felt me tense up before she would just plant another on my cheek, then the other cheek finally back and forth until she had me pinned when I started to push her off to escape her. I was gasping for breath from the weight of her sitting against my chest and both of us giggling. It was then I got it, I felt it. A kiss, so simple was so much. Today it was friendship.

It was nice, she went on and told me about the meanings of more kisses as I washed up the both of us started with open camp chores. Friendship kisses, caring kisses, love kisses, passion kisses, teasing kisses, suggestive kisses...so many of them! I would start with just the friendly ones, the rest seemed to be way to complicated.

By afternoon light, Yasmine ran off to take her Master lunch out in the herds, and I walked along the tents by the Turian vendors. I saw a basket of eggs by some talking silk girls. They didn't seem to bother to look like they noticed me. I figured, anyone that turned their back towards a good basket of eggs, didn't want them. So I kindly took them. I boiled them, I carefully peeled them, using a very fine knife made of fine bone and sliced them in half. Putting the yokes in a bowl, I mixed them with some mild spices and creamed bosk milk, carefully refilling each center. It smelled good. I couldn't wait to have my Master try them. I kissed the back of each of my hands as I put them in a small covered wooden tray and made my way to find Him. When I was able, I offered them up. I will say, He seemed a bit weary. But He ate it. He liked it! Oh kick ass! Odin was smiling upon me. And those kisses on my hands....were Hope. It was a great day.

So..whats it worth to you?

I didn't really understand the concept of the Love Wars. In all honesty it made no sense to me! Wager up beautiful Free women, only to fight to get them back. What the heck? I could feel Odin even giving a shrug in the Breeze. I laughed thinking of the stakes as a market buffet of meat on sticks for a Northern mans snack. I have found that those in camp didn't quite get the concept of fair meats, but I said nothing. I have attended The Thing enough to know carnal foods. Meats on sticks, wagers and challenges of strength on men. Dagger throwing of women, even women and men doing matches of slung rocks and balls of dyed mud on targets. I missed that.

Another thing was....shaved ice. I haven't seen that in ...like...Forever! I watched the vendor shave the ice and put it in folded wax coated cone cups with a bit of flavored sugary syrup. I felt my mouth water. Made me think of bits of hard candy in glass bowls left out on hallway tables for guest back at the hall. I felt the very soft breeze lift the dust at my bare feet. The colors here....were drab when I looked away from the wagons. I could see the great wall in the very far distance. I lifted my hand and tickled myself from the thought of crushing it tips of fingers pinched together. Of course at that point when I saw girls in long deeply hued dyes of silks long and flowing around their ankles I found a distaste for them. Yes, it made me laugh once more as now could I only see how Bonds felt back in the North. They seemed so delicate and walking bits of decorated art. They were belled also, but moved with bells so gracefully that the sounds were ...pretty. It didn't seem like a song of not being trusted, it was one of pride while they seemed to float across the grounds. I looked down at my bells, and felt my cheeks warm in a blush. It was then I felt..not so pretty. Not so pretty inside. I knew I was prettier then some of those silked slaves but they way them moved, smiled, looked at the Free was from inside. Yes, they were amazing, but still confined in those walls I was pinching to crumbles in my mind. I had...more. I had everything, and I wasn't using the feel of it, the warmth of scented air in my lungs and rich grass like cool wool under my feet.

I had everything, time for me to celebrate it. Time for me to finger paint the colors of me with that of the wagons, and I looked over my shoulder to see the display of my life filled with colored hard candy wagons that looked tasty in my glass bowl of my life. It was delicious and remarkably beautiful. Oh, I was feeling great. I had just my black shift I had cut a bit more to look..alluring. Bonds didn't wear fancy silks or even the erotic cut of the leather of the plains slaves. They had camisk and kirtles. Pretty much the simple cut of what I have now, but with a little personal added detail. Not sure if they did it or the owners had it done. I had added a bit of personal touch to mine but for some reason I find myself wanted something a bit more, alluring. It was something I finally figured out that Yasmine couldn't teach me. It was something inside of me I wanted to flaunt and show.

I followed the girls towards the bazaar area of vendors and entertainers. It was a fun mixture of Plains People and Turian's mingling without screaming women, blood and fire. Or so how the stories use to describe it. I have seen Warriors come back from raids coated in thick crimson that would put my hair to shame, kicking girls over saddles, or weeping ones fighting to keep up at the side of saddles. Wagons brought back with raided goods and stolen bosk baring other tribes brands. I found this excited me. I started to envy girls who ran to their Masters in jumping happiness and praise, using switches to herd newly captured girls, or water down new bosk, then run to hand off bota's. I wanted to be that.

I didn't know how to take that first step to show...Him such. I guess I had to get over the anger before I could begin to show respect. Display respect, for the respect was there. It started to warm against the collar, wasn't instant, it started when the first hint of yearning was awakening.

Right now, I had something on my mind. Wearing the necklace of pearls around my neck, I looked over bundles of cloth at a table. I saw the Merchant woman looking at my pearls before I arrived. Her interest would be my payoff. There were a couple bundles I wanted. Colors rich, and some sheer and laced. I had a glow of an idea what to do with it, but nothing fully formed yet. But as long as I had the idea I wanted to run with it. I let my fingers gently toy my pearls as if they were something so precious. There were a few tables of cloth vendors. After I left the Master Vendor's table I gave just a hinted glance to the Mistress's table, giving the look of having no interest truly in her offers. I touched one of the bundles that...the only thing I could say it was the most decadent of feelings against even my finger tips. I wanted it...badly. I couldn't look. No, it would give away my desire. I forced my hand from the tender tease of arousal the cloth gave me, to act like I was going to the other when the Mistress stopped me.

'Girl, what is it you are seeking'

'Just a few things in particular my Master may like, I have these pearls to trade, but their worth is far beyond what I have found so far, but I think that table over there might have something worth it that would make my Master proud'

'Girl, are you a fool, that man has to many seams in his bundles hidden in the roll. He uses scraps sewn together, look, I have no seams, and my colors are far more vibrant then his'

'They seem nice Mistress, but its thin, the looms of the wagons would be far more able to produce something that even a horn of a bosk couldn't pierce. '

I saw the Mistress look both ways before pulling out a bundle that was under the table. I have to say it was some of the best cloth I have seen in a long time. Its weave was remarkable. It was tight, yet not stiff, and its feel was soft, and I could tell it would breath well against the skin. Its strength was beyond impressive. I tried not to show how impressed I was. I gave a simple nod. Giving a tap of some I thought would look beautiful against Catch's skin, some I personally wanted, even a neutral color I thought for Pink, who I still had not discovered, another for the hint of idea I had, and then that good cloth for Master, and one more for Him.

She looked pleased I didn't get too greedy. But that smile turned to a frown when I spoke again with confidence.

'I need some bone buttons, and I want some metal ones, which I'm sure such a refined cloth maker like yourself has under the table, which means they are far more detailed then the simple metal buttons that man has, so let me see them, before we complete the trade'

Slipping the necklace from my neck, I let it dangle at my fingers to taunt her. The Mistress snatched the necklace, and placed two wooden boxes on the bundles of cloth I had selected. She waved me off quickly not wanting people to see how badly she had wanted my necklace also. I felt a bit bad as if I had really robbed her, but her fault for having such a need. I filled my arms with my trades, I felt...proud, and headed back to my Master's wagons.

Hungry

Yasmine had found this odd connection to me. I see her in the class of women that might have many keys being a head Mistress of a great hall, and I just a lower hall woman of some man's cousin's mate that worked the land for pay and a place under the salt in comparison. I think that is why I find it strange she spends so much time with me, and not with those more...elite slaves. Dweller. Dweller slave. I hear it a lot. I can't even blend. I am the sore thumb that sticks out throbbing and red.

I love the smell of fresh fires being started. Once we made camp they all burst into life like raining falling stars. I love the different smells, it wasn't just burning dry grass and dung, but leaves of mint, sage and dried berries added to bring a nice soothing aroma in the air with the fire. Yasmine showed me how soaking and keeping the fire stones in a bucket shallow with water mixed with oils or herds will keep that scent lingering in the air. Making small wax incense will melt slowly releasing the scents if placed on the outer ring of stones that keep even the smallest of camp fires contained by the wagons. I shall have to bring the wax to Catch to see which she would think He would be pleased with. Right now I will just rest the buttons of wax that smelled of honey, dates and vanilla. Nothing overly sweet or girly, just a nice smooth aroma to dance with the flames and breeze from the stones of the fires of His wagons.

Yasmine was trying to give me a few lessons on being....sexy and flirting also. They seemed ill spent on me. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that step. I had been spared the dramatics of sex so far. Not that I didn't want to have sex, cause well, it seemed a vital part of slavery. I can't say I didn't want that...powerful feeling of battle of wills and release of all flesh at the hands of another...or so the way Yasmine tells it. I just wasn't ready for that craving. I was craving so much more right now. I wanted to learn...everything. I finally got to be hands on with all aspects of life. In being a Slave. I don't know if I was a mature enough of a Slave yet to handle more. I smell sex in the air, I hear it. I feel my own body react with its new form, and motions starting to become very natural to me.

It was a hunger. Hunger to learn, experience, and start to take little bits of everything around me, to build this new and improved. Red.

Its all about War and Love

I have learned so much its hard to think I can digest all of it. Like stuffing too much in your mouth, and it being so delicious you don't want to just chew and swallow to allow for more room, you want to savor and enjoy every bit of flavor that burst between your lips.

That is how I am finding life here. Its been a slow process, but I'm starting to awaken. The more I fought the more I learned what was being given to me was what was really worth fighting for. I don't have the whole of its concept..Slavery...but the gift of this life has been on adventure after another. The slaves here are far more brazen and bold then bonds back home. They work harder and are not only in submission of the collar as they are of nature and all the beast that roam its lands. I have learned so much between being able to tell the age of bosk chips before touching the density of texture or warmth at my hands to knowing how to store milk when no ice is around, or digging holes under wagons facing the east as its ground was much cooler in the shadows to make a cooling pit. I have learned how to make butter, cheese and roast meats so tender over open fires. I have learned to mix dry grass, dirt, clay and water into molded squares to make a hearth that will bake breads and treats, slow cooked meats and such to be enjoyed until it melts back into the ground at the next rain. I have gotten praise for my breads, the only thing I came with vast knowledge of making from the North. How I can twist dough, brush it with spiced or seasoned butters, fill it with warm meats or jellies, all the things Blushes use to show me as a child. I have enjoyed sewing designs for many along hems and tunics, thin leather and reins. I have watched and learned yearning...seeing the light in Catch's face when she is around His wagon. I see this look on many slaves when "The One" is close to them. Even Mistresses. I want that.

My other amazement came at our move towards something celebrated called the Love Wars. From what Yasmine told me, its the only time we will be so close to the Turians and there be peace in the act of battle. This was amazing to me. Everything. Women at the stakes, men ready to fight at the hands of possible death over beauty and honor. Women were a mere prize to what was really being battled for. Show of pride and strength against those who are sworn foes of culture. I was excited. I wondered if Master would bring us a Turian woman to get to help carry dung. I walked at the side of the wagons that moved to make camp close to the stakes of the games. It was amazing the way the wagons move and Yasmine laughed saying I haven't seen anything yet. Wait till the cold season comes and we go back North.

Go back North.

For some reason, that didn't sit well with me. This War of Slavery I was just finally winning was going to bring me closer to the place I was before? Would I be ready? I watched my shadow as I walked with the wagons that rolled by the pull of bosk beside me. This collared girl called simply Red, was different from the first time she stumbled into camp. She was stronger, had more form to her shape, her hair was longer, her skin was tighter, she smelled different, as she had found a wonderful combination of honeysuckle oil and sandalwood to mix in her creamed skin oil. It was a smoothing silky smell, not strong, but very light and feminine.

I found myself watching Him from the distance, for He made me unsure of myself. My feelings. I didn't understand them. I didn't know how to understand them. I could spend days on end with Yasmine who taught me the best ways to carry water in masses without to many blisters, and had races to pluck vulos in the afternoon. Yasmine would tease me about the pearls I won from her, saying one day she would get them back from me. Its strange, though I keep to my own chores and world lately I found another emotion starting to emerge. Jealousy. What an ugly thing it is. I am jealous of Catch and Dee, though me and Yasmine are friends, we have more in common, she doesn't bring that elegance feel of being tucked into kindness and joy like Catch brings me. A safe warmth. Dee was taking all that to herself. Damn her.

I heard the sounds of girls cheering in the distance. Warriors were practicing, joking around and talking of who would bring the prettiest Turian back.

I ran to join the others to watch and cheer.

Delievered Peace...for some.

She had been captured away in the busy life of a slave in training. If not trailing behind Catch like a little shadow, she was watching the girls around other fires, and by the stream between dung, cleaning wagons, venturing to His supply wagons to see where what was, and a bit of a marvel at the wagons holding raid items, that left her pretty speechless. She would sometimes test how brave she was, taking a few peeks under at Yaz when she felt like some brave Warrior leaving out basic heavy crate traps for plains urts, which were huge in comparison to those of the North, and released it under the wagon to give Yaz something to snack on. Though the joke was usually on her as it wasn't much of a play when there was simply a screamed out squeek, snap, a head or tail, even a leg now and then, or five or six would go flying out at her, on the platform with a splash of blood and guts as natural as the waves hitting shore. She didn't seem to learn, to move faster out the way once she did this. Usually the low growl and yellowish eyes was enough to make her move ass out of the way.

Today after the Urt moment, and a second stream bathing to get the leg that got stuck under the thickness of her hair out which did freak her out as she went running, then looking all over for the head that went right at her like some arrow, which she didn't find, she finally dried out her shift, pulling it back over her head and gathered up the stuffed Verr's to leave on the platform for Mistress Asria and Lei. She told one of the girls around Master's wagons, where Mistress Asria was too, to say they were gifts of peace when Mistress was back around.

With that, she was off to sweep out the platform of Master's wagon, scrub the blood from the wheels and steps.-

A little piece of Peace

Peace, how does one form the essence of peace into something that one can embrace and feel in a solid form? Now the Mistress said She needed peace, so I offered to stitch Her hand to Her chest. I mean if something wasn't causing Her peace I would think we needed to protect Her heart. Cause in general, the core of life, is peaceful. Other things or simply ourselves shatter that peace. The Sky isn't against us, I have learned a lot about how these people feel about the whims of the Sky. Like Odin and Valhalla for us in the North. Here, everything is unified into the true faith of believing in the Sky. It is there, before you and nothing will ever change that. I honestly like that view. Strength above all things and the most giving in treasures, gifts and challenges of life.

I wondered what use to bring me peace, what was the same about my old Home and my new Home. When I was feeling restless, or my mind was wandering a bit, or maybe just fill of too many thoughts, I would walk out to the herds. The Bosk would move around the pens, and the verr over the hills. I use to sit on the stone fence, watching the young verr play in the grass. They were so carefree, cute and always made me smile. Their lush soft down, and little horns that would make them brave as they lifted up and then locked down against the butting head of another. So brave and confident. One can't help but be wishful for that moment. No worries, and if something was bothering you, just give it a butt out of your way.

It seemed perfect! I hoped that She would see it about the same. I started with bits of leather and fur, stitching them together. I giggled showing my creation to Catch. The lush little fur body was wonderful. I wanted to snuggled against myself. No, these were not mine. They brought such a wonderful memory of the stuffed sleens me and Big Red use to have. With that, I made two. One for the Mistress, and for Her little girl. I didn't want the little girl to be without some peace, cause restless mom's made for restless daughters! Now we didn't have our mom, but when Father or Blush's were having off days, we all felt it. Oh I was excited! I kept a warm hum at my lips as I finished both up, armed with the cute little stuffed leather and fur Verrs, I went to find the Mistress.