Reminder
I have not written in a few days ... there
has been much for me to think about. Yesterday I sat for a long time far back in
the gardens of Samsara. It was quiet there. I missed the huffing sounds of the
big cat Kadef as I sat in the silence.
He has chained and collared me again the past two nights.
I had not been chained for some time. I suppose in the back of my mind in spite
of everything I've learned I believed it was really placed there for a time or
two ... or three ... to make certain a slave - me - would not run away in the
night from the fearsome thing that grows and burns inside.
He placed the collar around my neck again, the chain hanging cold and heavy
against my arm. I did not like the feel of it and moved my arm out of the way,
which only made the collar tug heavier on my neck.
He did not put it there to prevent me from running away ... He knows I'm not
going to run or walk ... or even wander off. The collar is there to remind me -
even when I don't think I need reminding - that I am his slave, meant to be
collared and chained, kneeling at his feet... at his whim.
I am not to become arrogant. I am slave. Even more than that, I am not to become
complacent. He is a demanding Master, intelligent, voracious and exacting. He
elicits behavior in me that I never would have imagined possible.
A freewoman saw me with him in the tavern. She watched, her fingers digging into
her robes, as I crawled into his lap, begging by word and body language to be
used. He told me she watched. I did not care. I remember even looking at her, my
eyes glazed with passion and my body slick with sweat. I did not feel
embarrassed. I felt triumphant.
My behavior troubled me when I thought of it the next day ... but I cannot stop.
It is said that the duty of a kajira is perfect obedience and exquisite beauty.
For him, I wish to be more than that ... I wish to be fascinating, tantalizing
... provocative, provoking ... honey sweet and near-insolent bitch ... coy and
slut. And more.
I am his