What I Am .. and Whose
A man came to the falls last night .. a
confusing sort of man, one that had people asking whether he was free or slave,
and he himself didn't actually answer the question. He greeted everyone with
"Sweetness be unto you", treating slaves as though equals and yet treating the
free the same way. He said he was a Same.
When my Master came to the falls, he did not address the man as he would a slave
and only offered the briefest of explanations to me. I don't like it when he
does that and I hate the words "curiosity is unbecoming ..." To me it simply
means, "I don't want to answer your question" not that intellectual curiosity or
a desire for knowledge makes a girl less pleasing, attractive or fascinating.
He then told Sana to remove her garment and silently mouth the words "I am a
slavegirl" as she stood before this Same, commenting on how hot the exercise
would make both the girl and the man. I, frankly, was not interested in watching
Sana turn needy. It was amusing, though, when the man suddenly went waist deep
into the water, a look of confusion on his face.
I served my Master - wine, cheese, a bit of bread and after, a small bunch of
grapes. He asked if I was hungry. Earlier, in teasing with the other girls, I
said, "If my Master were here right now, I would rape him." We all laughed,
joking as girls do when there are no men around. Now, he asked if I was hungry.
My mind went to that joking and I thought to be the seductive wench. "Yes, my
Master," I said. He dangled the grapes, just out of reach, binding my hands by
his will behind my back, forcing me to stretch for them.
I touched the grapes with my tongue, formed my lips around the succulent fruit.
I wanted him to look at me, desire heating his eyes.
By the third grape, something had changed. It was subtle and I was not aware of
it until it happened. By the third grape, I was looking at him with a need and
longing that I could not deny. Feeding from his hand .. and even then not
indulged by having the fruit pressed to my mouth .. reduced me to pure slave.
I couldn't help but be struck with both the contrast and similarity with what
Sana was doing. She was forced to confront her slavery by stripping and mouthing
the words silently over and over. I, mine, by begging for food from his hand and
from the lightest of touches to my skin.
I fed from his hand. Need-filled and hungry for more than grapes. He reminded
me, once again, what I am .. and whose.