She stands quietly in the shadows, resting against a wall with her head tilted forward slightly so her face and upper body are hidden by a cascade of chocolate brown tendrils. Her hair is enticingly long, and it curls around her in long waves, down to the top of her heart shaped arse. The sound of the tavern door being opened interests her, and she raises her head, hair parting to reveal a delicate heart shaped tan face, containing brilliant emerald green eyes that search out the individual who entered. She smiles, full pouty lips parting to reveal perfectly straight small white teeth. It is He, and her eyes dance with lust and pleasure. She watches silently as He moves across the room, to a table, where He sits and motions for a drink. Settled, His eyes turn to her, and the slow burn begins anew.
She pushes off from the wall, silent but for silver slave bells chiming on her slender ankle, held in place by a delicate gold chain. Her blood red silks float about her, revealing long tan legs with nary a mark or brand upon them. She moves slowly, catlike, her steps unhurried and her eyes focused on the ground before her. Her slight silks float and dance over her as she moves, caressing her body like a lover's hands would. She feels His eyes on her, watching her, wanting her. Her hips respond to His interest by swaying naturally, the burning in her belly tingling her slight frame. She slows and pauses, stopping before the fire pit in the center of the tavern. She waits, her back turned to Him, the flames warming her body further, intensifying the heat she already feels. She listens, and the words she wishes to hear float to her ears, hissed with intensity and desire.
"Yes, girl."
A smile crosses her lips again, and she slowly slips her tongue across them, tasting Him there from before. Her eyes close and she begins to hear a song in her heart, in her body, in her soul. She begins to sway gently, small movements as her hands slowly slip up her body, from their resting spot at her thighs. They slide slowly across her flat stomach, fingertips dancing lightly, barely disturbing her silks, then up to her proud breasts, her palms brushing already awakened nipples. She quickly bites her lower lip to stifle the moan that threatens to emerge as she remembers His hands on her. Her hands raise to her slender throat, fingertips gently touching the simple piece of rope that surrounds it, possessively. Her fingers pause, feeling her heart beating wildly with hunger, then raise to her hair, lifting it free of her body. Her body dips slowly, her hips swaying in a more sensual rhythm for Him, her heat being awakened by the eyes she knows watch her intensely. His voice is aroused, urgent.
"To me, slut."
She obliges willingly, eagerly, her body turning to face Him fully before she begins padding towards Him, her slave bells chiming with each thrust of her foot. Her hips sway suggestively as she moves, her hands still holding her hair up so her body is visible for His inspection. She pauses, three paces from Him and waits. At His almost imperceptible nod, she slips down to her knees in a single fluid movement, her thighs parted slightly for His pleasure. Her bells fall silent, and delicate hands flutter down to her sides, her hair falling about her like a waterfall of tendrils. She leans her head to the side, the only sound of her breathing softly, and looks up to Him, emerald eyes awaiting His request, her heart content, her soul consumed....
I asked to be released from my collar, and Master Kestel accepted my request. My life is currently calling me to a different role, and I felt that I was unavailable to behave as a slave should. I feel the call towards the lifestyle of a Free, a Domme. To be certain, perhaps, I am messing up. But the heart is a funny thing, it beats best when it is satisfied. This satisfies me like nothing else. Thank you, Master. You have taught me many things, not least of which are to believe in myself, and to remain strong when I feel like crumbling. I am indebted to you, for taking a scared, weak girl, and creating a strong, independent woman with your time, your touch, and your love. Safe steps, M.
A slave has no choice, some would say. But truly, a slave holds all the choice in the land, the ultimate choice. A slave cannot own anything of value, some would say. But slaves do. They are the owners of their souls, and those cannot be taken, only given. And they must be given freely, and with love. Ai, a Master can claim a slave's neck, can take a slave's body. Only a true Master can claim a slave completely, with the slave yielding totally ~ mind, heart, soul and body. Posessing a slave's soul is the ultimate connection, the ultimate act of yielding on the part of the slave. You cannot make a slave do that, yield her soul, whether You are the kindest Master/Mistress in the world, or the cruelest...the most gentle, or the most feared. If the true heart of a Free beats in Your chest, then You are blessed with something not many find, but all wish to have. Tread lightly on the hearts of others, for You always leave Your footprints. It is up to You what You leave ~ prints, or craters from stomping. {soft silent smile}
blind trust and unmeasurable love are great for story books...but they do not make a Master. or a slave.
To learn more of Gor, or to check the meaning of a word, please check the following links. heather does not constantly verify that the included words and definitions are the 'latest' or 'most current' usage, so other opinions may prevail. Always yield to your Free's wishes as far as usage goes.
Gorean Dictionary, Letters A - K
