Not as He says, but as He wants

So far I have no fucked up badly.  Not more than a light admonishing for my speech in addressing the Free men and Free Women.  I did, however, make an ass of myself.

One of the Masters decided to cut his hair in the square.  The warriors were celebrating their manliness and the peaceful talks with Port Cos, which meant the battle would not be happening (yet.)  He shaved his head clean, then looked to me and asked me to fetch him a broom.  Note my words.  Fetch him a broom.  So that’s what I did.

I’m so god-damn eager to please to the point of blinding my thought.  I ran to the tavern, grabbed the broom, ran back to him, presented myself with thought to being visually pleasing, and presented him a broom.  Like he asked.  The Free erupted into laughter.  I wanted to sink into the paving stones.  It was a case of do as I want, not as I say.  With heavy shame I swept the hair up and threw it away.

It could have been worse.  If it had been a different Master, or Master was in a foul mood, he had every right to strike me, and he might have for my behavior.  I would have deserved it.  No Free needs to do physical labor when there are kajirae running around.  I could not believe myself.  I still can’t.

That transgression stuck with me all night.  Another Master asked me to fetch him some food, and jokingly told me to not bring back the broom with it, and not to get any hair in it.  I suppose I managed to make up for it because it was forgotten an hour later, but some of the Masters and Mistresses will always remember my little fuck-up, and that alone is enough for me to still be ashamed.

Learning In Turmoil

As I am new to my collar, I have not earned my silks.  I do not know enough about being a slave to have the privilege to wear them.  I wear nothing, save my collar and a steel chastity belt, to preserve my virginity and possibly ensure a high price for it.  I have learned a lot, I think, but not enough.  Yet i am learning more than I expected right now.

I was sitting watching the Kajirae Dancing when I received message from Luce, First Girl of Port Kar.  SHe instructed me to find her by the kajira statue.  I went, and soon all the other kajirae showed up, along with a Master, who I had not met yet.

I learned Port Cos had every intention to attack Port Kar.  The slaves were to help, if only by throwing rocks, healing the wounded, untying the captured, and staying out of capture themselves.  Instantly I was afraid.  I longed for someone to tell me we’d be okay.  The other kajirae were gung-ho about the matter, but I was terrified.  What if I was captured?  What if I was raped?  What if.  What if.  But I was collared to this City, and dammit, I wanted to defend it too.

Dear rounded us up and showed us things about the city we should know to avoid capture.  She was incredibly helpful, ad I learned to wield a broom in the offense.  B day two, I was hoping to learn how to serve Paga properly and recite my paces to earn my silks, not learn how to fend off a Cosian to prevent my collar turning from Port Kar to Port Cos.

First Entry

My name is Lilia.  There is not much to me, because what I am encompasses all there is to me.

La kajira.  In English, this would roughly translate to “I am a slave-girl.”  I was collared to the City of Port Kar two days ago.  It was the most tumultuous, troubling, wonderful moment of my short life.

I am twenty years old, formerly a free woman, but a wanderer.  I roamed the towns stealing food, running from the steel of slavers, running from townspeople who thought I was a panther, and fighting to survive.  I am White Silk, having never known a man carnally.  How I managed to avoid it I owe in part to swift feet and a strong will, having only ‘pleasured’  a man once, against my will.

What drove me to beg the steel of Port Kar?  Perhaps a moment of lunacy.  I was sitting in the town square, watching the kajira circle to the Free, offering them service, ultimately captive.   Something in my soul heaved forward, desiring the silk, the steel, the captivity.  My body no longer my own, I stood and fell to my knees before a warrior and begged him not to kill me, but to collar me.

I have never been a slave, only seen paga girls in action, and never sat on anything more luxurious than linen.  I did not desire to be scantily clad in silk, giggling and fucking men all day.  I knew that had nothing to do with it.  I wanted the discipline.  When the collar locked, I looked up and called the warrior Master, and I almost shouted in joy.  He took me to the kennel, like an animal, and I felt like I had come home.  Why Port Kar?  Perhaps it was just because I was sitting in the town square when my soul decided to take over for a while.

My name is Lilia.  La kajira.