killing time

     I was allowed a small moment to relax yesterday and so I went to the gardens thinking I would be able to relax and enjoy the flowers in silence. I knelt at the apex of the path and was soon confronted by a man settled beneath a tree eating a topsit and reading a book. The man was a slaver, and judging by his accent, he was not of Ar. He had the golden ropes of Tharna on his belt. He spent awhile talking to me.. asking questions about my thoughts on the rumor that barbarians were the lowest and hottest of slaves. I said I didnt know, but I thought they could be. Soon I was in his lap in the position of slave lips. Our hips moving in a teasing dance against eachother his hands claiming my wrists and pulling them high above my head causing my back to arch wickedly. My chest pressed against his, his questions asked without answers. A feeling within me long forgotten. To be under the wicked eye of a slaver.. walked through paces I had long forgotten. Sure, I serve men in their furs for copper tarsks every day. I moan and squirm and feel slave orgasm. But its all mechanics. Trained into me like a helpless puppy begging for a treat. The hold I was in.. comanded not to move. It was thrilling to me mastered. If only for a few moments. Later that evening when the sun had started to set I was allowed at the waterfalls park to work on some notes in my gardening book when he appeared again. The woman Zia, my former trainer was also there. I scrambled to the slavers feet lest the woman get her paws on me. She is a wicked woman. She hates me more so then most slaves for some reason. I knelt at his feet, only to be put through my paces once again, the man placing me in many positions at his feet. I wonder if it was a look at me.. Im a better slaver then you are competition between him and Zia. Who knows.. Probabally not but still. I find myself wishing to see him again. If only to feel Mastered for those few moments. I miss my Master. I know he is here in the city somewhere.. its just a matter of finding out where now...

Rumors, Lies, and the persuit of happiness.

     I have heard tale of a man from Ar, a warrior of high standing to be exact, enslaved, treated like less then a pet mini sleen and used to fight in the pits for money. I have also heard of an excape from his captors and his freedom. He has not come for me. I believe he just might not. I know his companion has been in the company of the General, and the General had something to do with his release. We'll see what happens. My Master was a man who did what he wanted when he wanted, even in his chains. I wish I knew where he was so I could beg him to take me with him.

     I sat in my kennel beneath the cities larger slave house and spoke at length with a kajirus by the name of Zion. He said he had known the woman who claimed to own my Master. She was fickle and would of most likely sold him off out of the city if he had not excaped. Bitch!

     I saw Trahkam at the falls park. Seams he and tora are back to sharing a heart. Sweet the way they click with one another. I miss having such a relationship with my former Master. Perhaps someday....

He is alive.

     You can never believe in a million years whom I saw in the arena. I saw the woman Faustine. And not three ehn later. I saw my Master. No. not the kennel Master or Dagon. But Tarm. He was wrapped in chains. The chains of a slave. He had several marks on his back like he had seen more of the whip then he had carred to. He is owned. By a woman no less and forced to work in the salt mines of Kilma. Can you believe my Master has fallen slave? He tried to make me leave his feet. For mine and his own safety Im sure. But he tried to push me away. I told him I would not go. Hell I was even already plotting the demise of this woman who owned him. Maybe I could find Viper... and he would bite her for me. He is someone else I miss. The little bugger but let us not get off course. I was not sure it could even be him, until he took me in his arms and kissed me like I had dreamed of being kissed for moons. I could of died there on the spot the happiest slave. But then he left me there. He was getting called by the guardsmen sent for him. I wanted to shoot them both in the back with a cross bow or something. My Master is Tarm of Ar. A man who fought bravely for his city for years upon years. A man I love, and would die for three times over. He is strong and brave and valiant and honorable. He does not deserve to be a slave. Im sure one day he will tell me the story of how he became such. Until then I will wait near the arena when time allows and wait to see him if only to watch him pass.

Dreams are made of this..

     I havent had a dream like this in a very very long time. I think it was brought on by the inquirie of sale by the Master from the compound. I dreamt of my warrior. My Master.. Tarm. But in my dream he wore heavy chains of bondage and a hood over his head. He wore heavy scars from a whip and shackles. He was not " My Master " he was a slave. I often thought it a possibility that this could very well be the reason he had left me. There were men, or women with more money and power to exact their will over a man as strong willed and bodied as my Msater and they made of him a slave. In part I wish it were true, because that would mean he was alive. But on second thought, that would mean he was a slave.. and could no longer be my Master. At the end of my dream... like always, we are together as we used to be. In eachothers arms, content and reveling in some happy afterglow. I only wish it were true...

     The kennel Master and one of the City slavers have decided I will be sold to Dagon. I hope he will be a Master that will be able to help me climb out of this whole I have been in since the disapearing of my Master.

The book found

     I thought I had lost this book for good. But in the course of traveling to my former Masters home to retreive some slave bells and other prizes from past dance contests, I found my book. The pages have faded to nothingness, but I will start new here. Thee is alot to be said, and to have this book is wonderful because I don't have friends. Paga was my friend, and she is gone now. I miss her. Anyway.. I'll be writing often so be prepared.