First

There is a violent storm brewing in the center of my brain. I am discontent. I am tired of being that slave. My heart pounds in my chest to remind me I am still alive but often I feel like a cardboard cut out of my former self. I have been allowing myself to be blind to the idea of truly being Mastered. Sure I am a slave. I serve, I beg, I fuck, hell I even dance. But I am not Mastered. Im tired. I pissed off and frankly I feel a little violent. I want to lash out and men and demand they recognize me for who and what I am. I want to be known as the slave Kamaria. The woman who wooed the judges at the dance contest at the Se'Kara fair and won first place along with another slave. Tied.. though told by several persons who watched that Mine was better. The passion that inspired that dance.. I want to be known for it! I am tired of being that fuckin slave. The one people feel is safe because I kneel quietly in the corner and say " yes Master " and " Thank you Master " and beg to serve and such. I dont want to be safe. I want to be cherished and fought for and relished. I want to be owned, and not by a man that leaves me in the care of another so he can collect money while I wallow in wait. I hate it! I wish you could understand how frustrating it is. He told me he loved me and sent me to serve in a paga den and disapeared. I am so used to this.. I am sick. I look around myself. I see what it seamed to be like for others and it makes me want to kill something. It's stupid to be angry. But even the man who rents me has no idea who I am or what I feel. What I want or need. How I should be trained or treated. He lets me run wild. I cant understand it. I won. I danced my ass off ( Thanks Hazel! ) and I won.. but there was no one to revel in my victory with. The night I won.. I went to my furs in camp and cried. Every day since.. not one word from the one who rents me, the ones I share a camp with, no one. Fuck it. I give up.