I woke up sore. The first night had exhausted me inside. After I was bathed I was told to lay on a fur by His sleeping couch. Fingers of His hand just brushed against my hair, but that was it.That was enough. I wanted to hear Him tell me everything was going to be okay. That I shouldn't mourn the good man who I called Father for the loss of his daughter, but embrace the life with a smile that the one who was born for this was now allowed to live. Right? I think so, cause I am sad for the loss of my Father, but I wasn't really sad for my own. I didn't lose. I won. I have never felt a calm in my heart like I do now, lingering on the lifted motions of fingers running over the waves of my hair. Now and then when He turned fingers caressed the fine down at my hairline. I felt tears fall, and the attempt to muffle my emotions didn't seem to work. How can I be content? I should be fighting, not laying across furs like someone's pet at His feet. I watched the glow of the small copper bowl giving a light sage and mint scented heat around the wagon. Finally I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of His breaths deepen.
I woke up with cool air wiping around me. A shiver as I lifted the edges of my fur I was stretched out across to roll myself within its surrounding warmth. There was a soft chuckle once I did so, and my only response was to jump up with a gasp at this unknown audience. The girl in elegant stance there was beautiful, with bold and strong feel of air around her. She stood against the entrance of the wagon letting a hand pushed back the flap that just waved into a slight curl of fingers and brace of palm. Her body had muscular curves, they were very feminine and yet seemed molded by an skilled artist who sculpted a creature of dreams out of stone. On the flesh of her thigh was brand I have never seen before. It had curves of horns, though simple at first glance, one couldn't help to wonder about the thin metal and form of its virile meaning placed at skin. She had this smile once she pushed off the wooden arch of entrance, the crisp air was gathered in the warmth of the wagon once the seal of flaps found their place, it told me...she was on a mission. Walking up to me, she pulled the fur that had made me feel like guarded woman, but not in a malicious way, but in an air of good spirits. Speaking while she worked, giving me no time dare let a thought of resistance cross my mind, I learned her name was Haley, she was one of the slaves of my Master's family wagons, and had made sure He was well taken care of over the years. This made me blush and feel the kindle of a new arousal of jealousy and yearning. So new to me. I wrapped my inner desire's arms around the feelings and twisted them together to form a feeling of not negative, but a craving drive to learn what she did to please Him. This new formed feeling was only heighten when she must have saw that look of figuring out in my features and said, that is why she was here. To see, I wouldn't make Him suffer with my ignorance. That once she taught me what I needed to know, then I will have everything I need in life. The knowledge of His wants, expectations and desires, accept and be willing to teach any other slave who comes to His wagons. Other slaves, not sure why that caught me off guard but it gave me this sudden eagerness to be, His sub conscious. Haley laughed again suddenly embracing me. I was startled. She remarked, how it would be shocking to think of just a mere hand ago, I was a dweller freewoman. It was rare to find one with a soul that absorbs fate so willingly. The true meaning of one born with a heart to serve. She said, she saw now, why He was so pleased. That alone meant the world to me. That day I was taught how to dress, and what a rapture of emotions spilled feeling each bit of leather find its place across the outline of my body. The sudden rush of blood to my cheeks when Haley put the strap of leather between my thighs, laughing when it was pulled over the crimson band of curla along my hips. Drawing it out, she showed me how to bind it so that the chatka wouldn't slip as I worked. Better to keep it firm then scrub dust from my twat. Twat, what a funny word she used. I had to giggle...giggle over and over as it seemed to flash in my mind over and over. Twat, twat, twat. Then she looked at me puzzled. In her haughty way I found so fascinating, she teased. 'Should I have said snatch instead?' Okay that sent me in a fit of giggles. Snatching twat of delicate petaled woman-ism. Yes, that sounded more like me. A bit of fancy touch to what she said and my own way of seeing it. The kalmak was a bit of a playful thing. I wasn't as full on top as she was, but the way she bound the straps of the bit of leather was amazing. I wasn't without the sweet form of breast, but the ebon leather made it like....Pop out there. As I walked, I did a boomboomboomboom sound cause I was feeling like drums demanding attention were bouncing before me! We both laughed. Taking a string of tiny white beads, she rolled them around the band of steel at my throat. Telling me, most will leave me be, but if anyone ask, I am still a virgin awaiting my Master's approval and touch. I thought to myself...I was? I was. I wanted that...approval. Haley would run fingers over her ears at my bells when I moved around to much for her pleasure.
Oh the things Haley taught me over the next couple of hands. Pride, Joy, Envy and Longing. We would race in the fields over whom could fill the dung sacks faster. Showing me how to wash up in the stream and use oils on my hands and body to keep it supple and soft even with the hard work we did outside. She taught me how to cook, and clean His wagon. How He liked His bread with only a thin layer of fresh butter, and hard fried eggs, with a hint of spice on the yoke before it set. How to pack His saddle bags, dust and oil His saddle at night, clean His boots, lay out the reins and spurs after each was cleaned, and have His clothing, comb, mint, warmed water and oils ready for Him in the morning or very late at night, whatever shift of patrol He would be on. She showed me how to lay out His furs, how He liked His feet rubbed, His hands touched and using the soft flesh of inner palmed outline to caress His temples after a long day. Even the spot at the back of His neck where she said to breath lightly against, and when I felt the willingness to give all, beg all, show Him I was ready for the day He wanted to take all of me, that would be the spot.
I thought of that when I would be chained at the railing of the platform at times when He needed more then He wished from me. Listening to the sounds of Haley's passion, and His fury. Her calls, cries, begging mercy and pleading more. The sounds of flesh meeting, and hands slapping against sweat moistened skin. The thick rich aroma of sex would tease around the edges of the flap and I would breath it in feeling parts of my body respond in ways that left me feeling the stir of waters captured in a cauldron over a fire. She was not the only slave He took for His needs, but it was clear she was His favorite. I would dream of what was going on in the wagon, pulling the fur around me on the platform. Thinking of those hands so kind at my hair every night, sometimes drifting along my shoulders. I dreamed of Him tracing my skin that would prickle like a florescent trail that could be seen when it drifted across my back. His touch drawing wings along my flesh, long and flowing across the small of my back and its tips a mere flutter at the rounded form of my bottom. I was free to soar under His touch. The artist drawing a masterpiece against the canvas of my inner emotions tingling to the surface of my form. Always a display of original work, etched lines no one would ever be able to copy exactly. I wanted...This.
It was only when my toes would curl around the inner fur down of the blanket and my own motions theme being the chime of bells would I wake up feeling the weight of links released from my wrist. His eyes would look pleased. I would smell her against His skin. A mixture of rich lustful pleasures released with sweet nectars of both sides. I was not ignorant of sex. I knew what it was even if I never experienced it. I could read, and the books found in drawers of my Father's desk proved very interesting. He would gather me in His arms and I would cling tight, no matter what smell was on His flesh from another. It was the smell of a very pleased Master, and it made me smile.
One night, He laid me long the furs of His couch, pulling me close enough to embrace. Wrap His arms around me. The wagon smelled of sex, it electrified me. It didn't dawn on me until now, perhaps this was for my own good. He was waiting for a reason. Why take a slave that didn't have the spirit to give back everything He wished for? I thought I did. No, I didn't. I was still wanting more knowledge. I wasn't sure of myself. I was getting close, I would make sure to ask Haley everything soon. I didn't want my Master to wait, and I didn't want to wait any longer either. I craved Him.
I loved Him.