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..

A spoon

I talked with the Scribe the other evening. It came down to selflessness. He challenged me. To selfless acts. He said at the end of the hand, which is today, he wanted me to come to him with selfless acts I had performed for people at the fair, or elsewhere. I am glad to say that I completed seven. I purchased for him a turtle stien.. it was cute, decorative. I also got him a Pewter drinking mug with a mermaid on the handle. He liked the breasts... pig scribe. Also I purchased Dancing Silks for Madeline because I know its in there.. she just has to be reminded. I wanted her to know that I see it.. and I could help if she needed it. That day while walking around the tents I stopped and offered to help a young merchant who seamed to be having trouble setting up her awning. She was very greatful that somone stopped to help. I smiled at her and declined when she offered to pay me for my services or rather my owner. I said it was my pleasure. I moved on. Number four was the night the Scribe joined the two young kids that attend the academy with Nash and Rami. They needed wine, and a candle.. so I rushed off into the merchants tent and procured them for the couple so they might be joined. It was the least I could do after all. I was on a roll. Number six was simple. I helped a pregant slaver take down her laundry from the line and folded it for her because her own slaves were off Whoring at the fair. It wasnt super selfless because she did demand I take five copper tarsks but later for number seven I had passed her camp and saw her attempting to pull down an awning that could of been dangerous if she fell from the small stool, so I stepped in and ended up remaining and helping another slave break down a fence and tear down some more of the camp. After that I went back to The Arian camp and sought out the Scribe. He was sleeping or tending the young ones so I went back to seeking more good deeds, I liked doing them, it felt good. A few hours later I came across him in the merchants tent. He ordered me to bend over. Apparently I was bad, I was smacked good and hard in the ass with a wooden spoon that he paid for and then, he handed it over to me. It hurt. He told me that was what I got for running down the gravel road alone through the night. I suppose now that I think about it I could of been kidnapped or eaten by sleen.. but I wanted to get back intime for the joining that didnt take place tonight. We will see. I suppose we are leaving in the morning at first light. I am going to the Merchant' s tent for candy and helping Madeline finish packing up the trunks and hittin the sack.. daylight comes between us...

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.

differences and sameness.

I have been in the possession of Zeb Bronson for many many moons now. I am just a rented slave for the use of his den, being as my owner is busy flying back and forth between the Voltai and Ar near constantly. More often then not I am sent out into Ar with some form of advertizement attached to my body to bring clients to his den. It has been a long time since I have seen my owner. It as been an even longer time since I have felt like someone, instead of somewhere's slave. I have been on Gor for sooo long, I can hardly remember my village as the Scribe likes to call it. The short excursion to my former planet with Zeb and the two women I call my friends, Skirt and Madeline was not to the earth I remember. In the end.... I had a nervous break down of sorts and begged to be returned to Gor. Call it Stockholm syndrome.. call it what you like.. I didnt fit in at the former village any longer. Speaking of the Scribe. I think he has noticed my antsiness. In all these years I have known him. His and my relationship has been a kind of hands off respectful observance of eachother. An occasional serve of food and an often long distance appericiation of the man. I suppose I would call him friend if a Man and a slave could legitimately be such, he looks out for me I think, and I him if called for. Well resently I have been more so drawn to seek his company. I think because in some place inside of me I think he is safe. Not safe in a " i wont kill you or beat you for being an idiot, slave" kind of way but I do not think he is interested in me outside of our occasional meetings and I will never love someone like I do Tarm. Not even Mallick has that much love from me and I love him, very much.. just in a different way. Reguardless.. The Scribe owns Madeline.. and I would not want to impede on the perfection of their bond. Sure.. I serve the Scribe with as much favor as many men I enjoy serving.. knowing I dont have to worry. I am losing my point here.. He has noticed I think. His focus on me when I am at his feet seams to be more focused. One night he even kept me in his at his feet even after Madeline arrived. I was nervous. I didnt want her to be unhappy with me. Im sure she could understand though.. the draw to want to be near her owner. He told me if I needed it I could come to his home and sleep if I needed to. He didnt turn me away when I arrived at his door. I slept three nights inside of the house, a comfortable enough mat given me near a warm fire. I have yet to thank him properly. I will have to think of a way. It seams we, the girls of the den and Zeb are going to the fair. I will ask Zeb if he will enter me into the dance contest. Maybe I could win.. or at least Maybe place in the top three.... <>

back in the saddle again

It was all so quick... one day I met him in the falls park, and a little over a hand later, I was his slave. I was amazed to find out that he had me investigated and followed in thee time between the time we ment and the time he chased me down in the gardens and had me stripped. Things have been a wirlwind of experiences ever since, the collaring, the first use in 20 years... the beating with a switch. I have not seen a man like him in 20 years. I am affraid alot of the time, but it is exciting too. He is a man that knows what he wants and will do what he must to get it. I only hope I can commit to his collar the devotion I had for Tarm.. he would expect nothing else.

memories...

     Half of me.. wants to forget about you..

the other half thinks that is the worst thing that I can do.

And I dont know... dont know which side is right...

but I have listened to some people tell me

they have waited such a long time for something..

 they say two days is such a long time...

but I have waited five years for this

and now something has gone terrible wrong.

You say that you know what I mean..

but that's impossible..

I was so damned close

but now its gone and I dont know what to do...

 

      I have these moments sometimes where the presence of My former Master is soo close it is like his spirit has reached out and gently touched my face. I miss him like breathing half the time.. and the other half the time I can see nothing but his face everywhere I turn. The apartment seams cramped all of a sudden, the city too close.. I feel a wanderlust coming on but I do not have the money to hire someone to escort me to  Thassa to take that trip to saite it. I wish I could find something to take the pain away. Something... someone.. who knows. Sometimes I think slavery is the answer.. I mean at least in the collar with the proper handling one feels like they have a reason or purpose.. here.. and now.. I feel as if I am hanging my ass out of a car window and waiting for something to snatch me out and take me away. God do I miss cars..

Blue paint... and BlueBells.

   I went to the market this evening to pay my rent and the broker made mention that the fire headed fishmonger was seen in Ar. I do hope he does not come and evict me from the apartment already... I have done so much to make it like home. I just painted the oposite wall from the yellow one a almost lavender blue to give the room more of a sunlight and sky kind of look. The blue and yello wlook good together. WHite is sooo sterile... like a hospital.. in a rual jungle village in Guatamala I once nursed at when I was about to join the nunnery... Anyway... very pretty. I suppose once the buds that will soon become flowers bloom they will look nice against the wall on the small table I purchased in a vase. The place is so girly.. even with all these slave rings all over the place. I had a dream the third day I was here that I was chained there whilst sleeping... I woke up in a sweat. How scary that could be. Anyway.. more painting and shopping. I wonder what it would be like to be chained here in my little apartment... Uuggh it gives me the shivers just thinking about it. Perhaps if I see Naka and the fishmonger.. I will ask her when the fishmonger is not looking...