Holdin' My Breath

I have never slept with anyone before. I think I have mentioned it, when I first went into the slave wagon. I was all kinds of nervousness and excitement, just thinking of it. But that wasn't the start of it, by any means. Just Him coming was enough to send me into a frenzy of activity. Everything within the wagon had been packed carefully and shifted to balance nicely on the trip over the valley. The only things out were ankle deep layers of comfortable furs, the small copper brazier, the jar of salve and those softened boots. All were lit up by the amber glow of the oil lamp's fingers of warm light. I washed, scrubbing away the residue of oiled tarps and crusted mud until my skin was pinked and warm. The tease of spice...vanilla and nutmeg I think is what I had found, had scented the water and left a warm beckon along my flesh. Each time I lowered my head I felt my own delight in breathing in the scent.

I didn't know if He would keep me there or send me to the slave wagon. It was almost too much to think about. I knew that came with the territory of being a slave, but my transition was not one of those forced sudden dramatic changes in my life. It was filled with options, choices, and a lot of protection to find my way. I was rather grateful He was letting me learn my heart, my wishes and desires. I don't know what might occur if my choices ran contrary to His, but we hadn't gotten to that bridge yet. I suppose there is a very intense feeling that races through a man's blood when He sees, conquers, and partakes. There must, likewise, be a very powerful feeling when what He wants comes to Him of her own choosing. Of her own want. Of her own need and desire.

He ...has this uncanny ability to create that need and desire and want...and ultimately that choice..in me.

He dropped into His furs without even seeing me. I watched Him smile, oh great Sky how I love His smile. Now I love watching Him relax and sink into the furs with such comfort that I wouldn't have disturbed Him for the world. I was gifted this moment, to reap the benefits of my efforts. Whether He would have done the same had I prepared His wagon or not, I was so glad that I made it comfortable. It inspired me to wake early, long before the stars would even dip low for the day. I made sure He would have a warm meal to start His day for I knew it would be a strenuous one. I added fresh botas of water, and drew little designs of happiness in the leather. I had found two feathers, one mottled browns and whites, streaked with crimson. The other was startling blues, shades of aqua, and a pale cream. The brown one was tied into my own hair, just back from my forehead. The other was left with the prepared breakfast.

I couldn't resist it any longer. There were words on my lips, hungers in my heart that I knew were planted, seeds breaking free, taking root, reaching for the encouragement of growth. I could feel the change slowly working through every cell of my being. And I curled up close to His warmth.