Falling

Danger. Over and over it kept repeating in my head. Beware, slave, take heed and do not allow yourself to fall. That which makes you different shall be forever lost.

But falling I am; a slow spiraling decent into the unknown, into the unbreached uncertainties of what true slavery is.

“You should know how to crawl.”

At that moment, I would have crawled over broken glass to gain a nearer position to him, to gain favor with him, to have him look at me with desire. Thus I was instructed in the proper way to approach a man. I never realized it could be such a sensuous journey from one point to another, such an escape into the surreal.

“Stand and turn away from me. Rest you arms at your sides, and do not peer back to me. If you do, I will cease this lesson, and be disappointed in the promise I believe you hold."

I am not a completed slave, but a work in progress, a piece of drift wood found upon the shore, slowly being carved into a beautifully enchanted sculpture. Normally, this is something I would have avoided at all costs, but that no longer seems to be my decision. Truth be told, it has never been my choice to make.

I did as bid, resisting the urge to turn back and look at him, half believing that he would take this chance to disappear in to the night, the joke being on me, but he did not. Instead, I felt the wispy trail of fingertips traveling over the soft skin of my arm, his other hand set to the light curve of my hip. My heart raced and my pulse fluttered, the small intakes of breath now tiny gasps for air.

"I teach you now to listen to your body. Hear what it is telling you, what it wants from you. To be truly pleasing, to free yourself and be the most beautiful specimen you can be you must release yourself to the voice inside."

His hand rose over my silks, upwards and across my breast to rest over my heart, I falling prey to the intoxication of touch. Yes, me. But there was something I needed to tell him, the curse. My inability to..

Once I wanted to be an invisible slave, to serve out my time only beneath the supervision of the cards.
Once I wanted to be sold to a collector, to never feel the emanating warmth of a touch, a kiss.
But it is changing, my interpretation of the future. I am falling quickly into the arms of the name he has placed upon me.

Fate.