At The Falls
I was not sure what it was about last night that so impacted me. It was not
the whipping. I have been whipped before and more harshly than that. I have been
used in public before. I have experienced all of the things that happened last
night at some time before and so the profound impact it had on me surprised me.
He asked me a question: "Who enjoys and who is enjoyed." I knew the *correct*
response, but answered fully and honestly that yes, he enjoys and I am enjoyed,
but .. in truth, I also enjoyed. He said my enjoyment did not matter and again,
answering honestly, I said I knew this, but that did not prohibit me from
enjoying. I was not allowed then to enjoy what was about to be done. My silks
were ripped from me and I was ordered to my back, hands at my side. I had a
fleeting thought that from now on I would not answer honestly, but only give the
"kajira-correct" response. I also knew that would never happen.
I was used as I stared up at the sky, his sweat dripping onto my face. He used
me as I lay listening to calm conversations around me, the sound of wind in the
trees, his quiet grunts punctuating his movements. I was used until I began to
respond.
"Confess," he said, the command given not quietly, but loud enough that anyone
close by could hear. I did not want to admit what I felt. I did not want anyone
to know that at that moment that I did truly love him beyond the simple love
that a slave has for the one who owns her and allows her to serve.
I did confess. I felt my pride collapse as I spoke the words "I love you, my
master."
My wrists were bound behind me and he quickly gave the two promised lashes
marking my hips well on each side.
As I got to my feet, I became aware again that people watched. I looked from
slave to slave, my chin lifted in defiant insolence. Perhaps they read my
expression. No one spoke or smirked or even looked at me with concern or pity.
Good.