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.
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.
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