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Maevaline

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I am seeking play partners only, please.

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9/5/2013 1:30:38 AM
The night was cold. The wheels of the wagon creaked and groaned as it trundled from the golden city of Ar to the recovering ruins of Ti. On this world, a place opposite the one you know, counter-orbited the third planet known as Earth. Three moons floated about this smaller planet, though its air, fauna and creatures could be called similar, if not identical, to those on Earth. Gravity was a lesser presence, the culture of the world seemed archaic and barbarous compared to those of the third planet. This place, known as Gor, where a young woman called Lita was traveling to be sold as a slave. Unlike most women in the wooden cell on wheels, collared free and barbarian girls - that is, women plucked from Earth for the pleasures of Gorean men - Lita did not cry. Unlike the others, she was born to a pair of slaves, bred for their unusually colored eyes, yet another generation of passion slave in her fathers pedigree, though only the first on her mother's side. Slavery was all Lita knew- why should she mourn and cry when her wet existence was to please the men of this world? Born in the city of Ar, Lita was the name given her by her mother, Inara. For five years the tan, dark-haired ex-free woman cherished and raised the mirror image that was her daughter. Through Inara, Lita learned to read and write the grease marks of the Gorean language, as well as began to understand what her life meant as a slave. Once she turned age five, Lita was sent to a small pleasure garden, a place to learn the intricacies and lessons of a passion slave. It was not a large or overly prestigious house, but the pleasure gardens of Ar, all of them, boasted some of the best training for kajira of Gor. It was an honor to learn at any garden, though Lita did not understand until she was much older. As with all girls not collared with a white ribbon, Lita had been opened to begin a new chapter of her training. The small fire deep within all women had been kindled gently, ready to be stoked and built into a raging inferno when the time came and a Master finished molding her as he pleased. This hunger already ached, small as it was for the raven-haired girl of nineteen winters. She could not imagine the pain and suffering brought on other, hungrier girls than her. A particularly jarring bump caused Lita's head to become acquainted with the harsh, solid wooden floor of the cage. The passion space rubbed her head with a small, in-audible snarl, though the cries and whimpers of the other girls have Lita a perverse sense of satisfaction. The chain on her left ankle clinked as Lita pulled the scrappy blanket over her form, curling up to keep as much warmth inside her naked form as she could. Sleep was a fitful Mistress that night, on the long road. The last leg of the slaver's journey, as the suns rays slowly warmed the chilled air, Lita could begin to make out the slave market outside the ruins of Ti. Tents of all colors and sizes were already erected in the morning mist, as well as wooden platforms for the display of slave flesh. On one of those, Lita would be auctioned off before midday, she hoped, to a man who could afford a trained passion slave for the purposes she was bred- her worst nightmare was being useless, unneeded to someone who kept her around not for his pleasure or needs, or as a display of wealth as was sometimes the case, but as a kettle girl, a dirty rag to be thrown away after becoming soiled beyond cleaning. She shivered at the thought, sending a quick prayer to the Priest Kings as the wagon rolled toward her destiny. _______________________________________________________________________ TBC

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soccergurl4
 
 Age: 24
 Durban, South Africa