Scraps of Parchment 2

I spent one night in the collar of Zeb Bronson. I went to the den where I sat in a corner and was pissed off like no other. That night I went to my kennel and decided I would not let the loss of Mallick bother me. I woke in the morning and went to the market and purchased foods for a nice breakfast. I cooked for him. It was a large breakfast with eggs and bacon and toast with fresh fruit, and juice and jam for the toast. He was pleased. He was enjoying the breakfast.. but mostly ignoring me like usual when out of no where... in walks my former owner. In full regalia like he just walked in from some military parade. Instantly tears came to my eyes. I could not believe I was seeing him after all this time. My Master.. He watched me. While speaking to Zeb he watched me a moment but did not call me to him. That was when he noticed my collar.. he was not pleased. He called me to serve him breakfast. I went and got him a platter.. it was alot of confusion after that but in the end I left with him. I went to the metal smith and he replaced my old collar after some minor repairs. Its tighter on my neck then before.. but Im ok with that. That night I slept at Smoke and Mirrors for the first time in a long while. He did not use me. He kissed me and sent me to the mat. He did not even chain me. But he did tell me that he would not be traveling as often.. but his work in Ar would be keeping him busy most days but I would see him more often. I havent seen him since but he has left me notes and reminders that he cares. The Scribe... I saw him at the arena the next night after the fiasco with the collar. He had an odd look on his face when he looked at me as I came into view at the tunnels end. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head when I knelt at the bottom seat of the stands and lowered myself to the floor. He called my name and I looked up at him and he wore a frown. I did know why. Sooner rather then later however I ended up at his side. He pulled me closer.. eventally shifting me so that I was in a better positon at his side. His fingers in my hair.. my cheek to his leg. The semblance of control. I think he gets it. For a few moments I felt calm. Then something happened with Madeline. She started squirming and I mentally paniced. I didnt know why. It happened when I got closer and when he closed his legs around her. I thought she was over the issues with being restrained.. I suppose the large arena with all the people around spooked her. I just pray it wasnt me so close that caused it. When He, Mads and I parted ways.. he told me to come to Stylus before I headed back to the Smoke and Mirrors... I had buisness with someone who had rented me back when I was in Zeb's hands so he told me to come the next day. I suppose I should do that...

a piece of parchment

( Random scraps of parchement stuffed into her satchel until she stuffs them in her journal ) Madeline has my book, I will have her keep it, maybe to keep it away from him. He, he sent me to the metal smith and had my collar removed and replaced with a collar of a den slave. One thing I never wanted to be again was a paga slave. Billboard, sure.. paga whore.. no. Perhaps I will beg for freedom. Mallick.. he came to me and said it would be different. Then Zeb over stepped the line. Maybe it was to force Mallick's hand, maybe it was his greediness.. who knows. Has not changed a fucking thing. I went to the den last night like always.. and was ignored... like always. I used to care.. now I am just a shell. Im so disenchanted by the whole idea that things could of been different. IM a puppet.. hollow and dangling from the strings that control me.. or in this case.. the strings that leave me to hang in a limbo I can not understand. The Scribe will be furious I think, God in heaven knows I am.

In knots

I feel violent inside. I want to bash my fists into peoples faces for no reason. I want to kick and scream and scratch my eyes from my face. I dont know where this anger, this rage is coming from but it's horrible. I feel like an abandoned child in a jungle in the Amazon waiting for the missionaries to find me and make me whole. Feed me, give me education, inoculations, and love. I know these things are not something Gorean.. and I know I am just being angry.. but one time.. for five minutes I would love to feel half of what I used to sitting on the Irish coast, Happy and at peace with myself and my world knowing where I was going and why. I would love to feel the of the breeze, the salty air... to know I had a goal.. a mission.. But no. I am here.. under the rule of men, not my God, and I feel after 90 plus years.. that I will never feel that way again. I had it for a time with Tarm. Peace.. Love, focus, a goal.. but he is gone now. I thought I had it when I was free.. feeding children, offering help when I could... taking care of things for people.. learning the ways of warriors and scribes alike. But no.. its not there now.. and I wish I could feel it. In control of myself, controled by a purpose.. by another, a stronger mind then my own to guide me on a path to righteousness... worth, and love. I am torn.. in threes, knotted up in ropes I can not free myself from. Love, Friendship, and Adoration. In that order. What do you choose? Who's path do you place yourself on? How long can it go on before you crack? I sure as shit hope I dont have to find out. He came to the clearing while I was preparing to write this. The Scribe, something happened with Portia that I missed while I was out of the den. I will have to inquire from the dark beauty later..... ( entry ends here because Zeb called her to his feet )

He knows...

He said it to me yesterday, " I know " but I don't know who, or what he was talking about. He could of been talking to Madeline.. because she was there too. Maybe he was even talking to Portia.. I am not sure.. there were alot of us around the man. At one point I was kneeling there beside him, and next thing I know his nails are pressing into my scalp.. and he is guiding my head down to his thigh. I wasnt sure what I did to cause it.. but then I was there. At one point his grip tightened.. I was in pain.. but I think I may have almost smiled. That was when he said it... I dont understand... maybe.. I will ask him some day. He tattooed Madeline again. On the tender side of each of her wrists are tiny red and black letters. One L and one S. It's amazing to me how much better she is under his steel. She's fuckin beautiful. I wish.. for five minutes I could feel like she does. I miss feeling that under control. I was in the den the other night. There were a few other slaves in attendance and I think even the Scribe and Madeline may of been present. I served him, Zeb. I went to his feet with a water skin and offered it to him. For the first time in I dont know how long he looked at me. I could feel his eyes on me.. and he commanded me not to move from the upstretched position of my serve. The leer of his gaze was intense... I thought for once.. he noticed me. A rented slave in his den. Soon after however I was sent off to serve and I moved away... he didnt feign any notice of me after. Perhaps if I begged his steel he would deam to pay me notice.. though I doubt it. I need to find control... the more it slips away... the worse I feel.. maybe that is what he knows..