Introduction ... In The Night

Curled at the foot of his couch, she fell asleep surprisingly quickly. She found it soothing to listen to the rhythmic sound of his breathing as it slowed and became deep and regular. The chain, warmed now by her body, lay heavy against her. Before drifting off, she had explored the links with her fingers upward to the thin pounded collar. She has worn a collar for nearly as long as she has been on Gor and yet she found this collar disconcerting in a way she did not understand. She has never been chained.
She woke sometime in the night from a restless dream, sitting up abruptly and biting back a cry. Disoriented at first, she looked around, a tightening in her throat and belly of panic. A light slap of the chain brings her to full awareness. In the dim light, she sees the outline of him on the couch. She lowers again to the mat, her breathing quieting. The dream ... she cannot remember the details, only that it seemed to involve running ... and mirrors. Like the mirrored rooms in earthen funhouses where you try to escape and yet at every turn are faced with yourself.
The tight sensation in her throat is gone, but the tightness in her belly is not and actually seems more intense. Or she is just more aware in the darkness of body sensations ... or the lack of mind and body numbing smoke. She shifts, laying flat, face down ... stomach and breasts pressed tightly to the mat, arms first stretched at her sides ... then bent to rest her cheek on her hands. The chain intrudes and she rolls to her side, facing away from the couch, tugging suddenly at the collar, her fingers slipping beneath the metal.
She flops to her back, staring up at the ceiling. Wide awake ... her thoughts racing. She was brought to Gor and collared. "Yes, i am slave" she said it easily. She even spoke in third person until she had been left alone for so long and reverted to her old manner of speech. She always made "the best of things" and suddenly in the darkness of his room she realized she had really looked on her time here as just another adventure. A trip ... a vacation. She refused to admit the jealousy she felt that other girls were thought to be more desirable than she. What did it matter to her ... she was joy ... she was not like the others.
And now she lays here nude and chained. He said she never looked more beautiful, spoken quietly .. plainly. She felt her body react to the words almost immediately. She didn't move, fighting the urge to arch her back deeper ... suppressing an urge to look even more beautiful.
Rolling to her side again, she draws her knees upward. She begins to sob... silently. She stifles a soft, anguished cry with her hand ... not completely understanding what is tearing at her and yet, in a deeper way that goes beyond her rational thought, she begins to acknowledge the nature within her and what she is. She jerks hard on the chain, tears staining her cheeks ... then in exhaustion, lifts a hand up to the couch and places her fingertips delicately against his foot, gently to not wake him. She falls again into restless sleep.

 

Morning_In_The_Kitchen

Slave_Thoughts - Index

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