Chapter 1

     I have sat by streams, watching the water slowly trickle around a smooth shaped rock, something at one time which was probably foreign to its surroundings. As time continued the water slowly erodes away the rough edges, slowly smoothes out the hard surface until it became part of the picturesque image, until it became a part of the stream. Its natural, and if you stare long enough you can see the beauty of such a simple process, almost transcendual in its appearance. The water flows freely, calmly, it is smooth in comparison to the ravaging water of an ocean that crashes against a shoreline of rocks, that slowly breaks away pieces over time until there is nothing left but little crystals of sand.

     The pain was indescribable, words could never give credence to what I was feeling. My only outlet was to press my nails into the palms oh my hands, and my eyes blinking furiously trying to assimilate what I was feeling with what was reality and what had become fiction in my life. My breasts were traced with a light sheen of sweat as they rose and fell quickly to short, quiet breathes. I think if anyone caught a quick glance of this image, they would see a delicate beauty, but in truth it was so ambiguously disdainful, many would quickly turn away, thinking they had glimpsed something obscene.

     I had to fight back the bile in my throat as my mind filled with thoughts, sarcasm, remembering all those who I had known in the past who were so self righteous in their beliefs that something like this could never happen to them. One wrong turn, one incorrect choice and ones life could change from heaven to hell. What sanity I had left, I held deep within me for my own self preservation.

     I felt a hand roughly slide through my hair, my head moving easily to the guiding force of him as it was wrenched into the position he desired. His breath, warm and comforting almost felt like a midsummer night’s warm breeze against my neck. Feeling the soft touch of his hands around my trembling wrists as he let the leather slowly release its tension from me, and I slipped to my weakened knees.

      If one watches a new born kitten searching for its mothers bosom for comfort, for nourishment, one may have perceived me the same way, my lips searching out for his boots. It was almost a natural instinct, I inched toward the faint aroma of the leather and hungrily pressed my lips against the smooth surface, another peaceful surge raced through me.

     There is no need to vocalize the words he spoke, all had the same effect on me. To me it was almost like the sound the sweet cooing of a mother to her newborn, something she had created, something that was hers. Oh yes, it was still its own entity and would be more so each day, but for the moment it was totally reliant on another. In comparison with me, with each movement of the hand of a clock, I was becoming an artistic image of what he desired.

     My name is unimportant, it no longer belongs to me. Who I am is no longer important, value only being associated with how pleasing I can be to him, my owner, my Master, my demigod. What may be of importance is the path that I followed, the path I traversed to become nothing more then a piece of property owned by another human being. Consensual slavery, that's the name it is given, but I know deep within my soul it stopped being consensual a long time ago.

     When I felt the warmth of his lips pressing to the small indentation of my neck, and the sensations that raced through my body, pulsated through my veins, could only be compared to an ethereal state. Every sense coming alive, every nerve taking on a life of its own. I was free in some senses, but that was probably only in my own perspective. What others thought, was no longer important. Only one person mattered now, and anything he desired took precedent over any wish I may have ever had, or will have.

      I will try with some lucidity to convey my story, within the small shards of time that I am still able to grasp at my own inner thoughts, what little is left of me. The time frame is unknown, I am not really sure. The fleeting moments may be sporadic, when I am able to grasp at thoughts, but I will do my best to pass it on in a consecutive fashion.

     I will give one warning to those who are not content in their lives, those who at times feel they seek something else to be gratified. This story may stir within you something you did not know existed and be careful for what you yearn for, you may just get it.

     The darkness enveloped me as I heard the lid close shut, the harsh grating of metal on metal as the lock was being put into place on the slave box. I could hear the light caress of his hand to the wooden surface, his soothing words almost lulling me into a peaceful tranquillity. I was curled tightly into a fetal position as a babe in a mother’s womb, safe in the small confines in which it was contained.

     I stared into the darkness waiting for my eyes to adjust, though for what reason I am not really sure. The confines were so tight, my face was almost pressed against the rough surface of my prison. I searched through my deadened thoughts, trying to grasp the reason this time I had displeased enough to warrant this punishment. I knew what would happen if I did not know upon my release. I knew he would have no qualms of leaving me in this prison for days. I felt safe in these confines, the darkness and echoing sounds I heard soothed me, but the fear of being left for a prolonged time, left without food or water, to wallow in my own excrement gnawed at my belly just for a moment.

     I searched through the recesses of my mind and remembered that I was going to relay of how I came to being this broken spirited zombie, who at one time had so many hopes and dreams. I cant count the times I have been told that slaves have no future, only the present in which at that very moment they can please. My only confusion at times was I strived to please at every moment, and rarely did I understand why he desired me to be so complacent and broken.

     I allowed my mind to travel back, to brush lightly over each passing month until I reached the beginning, the beginning of a journey which started with beauty and now seemed covered in only bleakness and at times ecstasy.

(To be continued)