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Service in action and of the Heart

JeassiahBlack's picture
Submission type:

Jeassiah looked in the small mirror of the bathroom and took a deep breath, it had been a very long time indeed for her to simply let go like this, to let the kind of person she was originally trained to be to have free reign. More importantly, she wanted to see for herself if she still had that touch. She snorts softly, of course she had it still, it was too deeply in her sould to ever truely be gone and she knew it. Others over the years had seen elements of this 'dance' as it were., some she knew now were bothers in some aspect or another that some one like her exists still, that others out there far from the province still exist. A few didn't understand and might never understand she knew, but to the very very few who could possibly appriciate her in action, that's whom she felt this was what she had been trained for, that she wanted to do this for.

So she looked again in the mirror at the young woman, the faint scars on her left cheek from a brutal punishment long ago and acknowledged it to herself. She reached up and brushed back a a lock of her long blond hair over her shoulder, giving her shoulders a slight roll to settle her hair in place in a more natural, yet potentially appealing lay. She looked slightly down and decided once again that going without a top was right, if felt more natural to her of course. A liight touch of color to her nipples to highlight them was all she believed needed for this, making them seem a little more perky, more eye catching to someone would be looking there. A soft chuckle and she knew it would me almost every man who would be looking of course, and around here, a few women as well.

One glance over her right shoulder and she could see the bit of color from the tatoo that Lost had done for her years ago, painful as it were at the time, it had done exactly as Lost promised, it lasted through each and every cloning since and that was all that mattered. Well, she corrected herself, who it matters for actually. The Color had faded just a bit, but that was somewhat to be expected, now more closely matching the brand that was burned into her shoulder even longer ago than she could almost remember, one of the few memories as she thought about it should could not forget no matter how much she'd love to. Pain like that should never be inflicted on anyone, willing or not, and she glanced further down her body to the second matching brand imprinted into the inside left thigh. A slight sigh and she dismissed those thoughts for now to refocus on the now, what she was meaning to accomplish Now.

A light brush of her hands over her hips encounters first the slender belly chain she'd adorned herself with today, then the low hip hugging fabic of the silks she choose to wear. A soft smile at the thought of those silks as they were commonly called by her people, they were a lot less and more than most would think of them, less for the outright fact they were more like a long loin cloth that was nearly see through, and more that they just barely hid her nakedness underneith while teasing and letting the imagination run as seen fit. Her mind flicks back to the belly chain, simple in its design, yet at the same time, the silvery links will spakle and shine in the right lighting, clearly ment to draw the eye from her breasts downwards. A light flick of her fingers at the tiny dangle at the end of the chain sends the small crystal to motion, catching more of the light and the eye in its motion. 

She looks up and consideres once more if just this was all she desired, and came back with a simple yes to herself. She didnt need more. She was never trained to need more in fact, just her body really as she thought about it. The few things she wear, were just decoration really, not the spirit of the service, the soul of the dance she would perform withen each and every time she used to serve others this way. Today she thought, I have no one to Serve. I do this because...and she paused...I do this because I can. She nods, that was one of the reasons and a good one to start. That no one else might acutally see didnt matter right now. Well, and she laughed out loud, Tex would see, bless his aging kind heart. She'd already spoken a little to him about what she needed from him, one simple thing, but she did not tell him everything she was going to do soon. She also knew he was not one to gossip easily, so as far as she thought, she might as well have been compleatly alone in the bar, in the bathroom, as she steeled her soul to step foot outside and risk being Seen by anyone in fact if there happened to be anyone else around though.

Taking a deep long breath, she lets it out slowly, the slight case of nerves hitting her suddenly, then she narrowed her eyes slightly to look herself in the eyes in the mirror. A slight nod to herself and she turns on the ball of one of her feet, setting her hair to whip around to the left as she faced the door to leave the bathroom. As her hair settles she raised her left hand to push the door open and stepped out into the bar room. A glance around with grey eyes finds only Tex behind the bar at the moment, and boy, she must be a sight to see to the old man judging by the weay he almost dropped the beer glass he'd been cleaning while waiting for her, to fufill the odd request she'd asked of him when she first came into the bar this morning. Of course she was nearly naked save for the chain and silks, but that ment little to herself as she walked forward, finding the grace that was long and far taught to her by her teachers and masters of old. Each step was carefully placed without truely thinking about it, almost a glide arcoss the time worn wooden floors, her shoulders slightly back thus raising her breasts upwards as she approached the bar. She smiled slightly to the old man as he set down his cleaning rag and the glass to pick up the small aged silver tray, atop sat a single crystal tumbler and small corked bottle of some known liquor. 

She reached out to take the tray from him, her eyes down cast slightly but still a soft thanks was spoken. With steady hands, steadier than she thought at first, but also with growing confidence she turns with tray in hand to walk towards the back portion of the bar, down the few steps and off to the left. Taking each step in turn was almost no thought involved, the tray held steady and unjarred, which made her smile slightly if only to herself. She stops at a semi private booth, one she used to sit at herself with others, with some one she knows the name of, that makes her almost stop and want to drop the tray and flee from the bar. Still though she resolved to do this, the name she knows will find its home in memory eventually, the right person will unlock that for her she is certain. This was but one step in that direction she believes, one she felt deeply down she had to see through...even if no one was to see it.

She turns smoothly to face the booth and drops gracefully to a kneeling position, her training and instincts settling her into place without ever having to think about it. Her kneees widen to about shoulder width apart, back arching even slightly more to bring her shoulders even back just a bit more. She kept her eyes down cast as she set the tray down on the floor, to reach for the bottle and deftly remove the cork from the neck of the bottle. She titls her head ever so slightly to the right as she carefully watched, judging to herself the angle of the pour as she filled the glass with a deep amber liquor, a drink of her home land that few would likely have ever heard of here, much less have known the taste. Some she mused might mistake the drink for another simular, but she knew deep down there were subtle differences, the way it was made, what it means that made all the difference in the world to her at least, to others who knew and understood its signifigance. She repalced the bottle on the tray with the cork placed carefully next to it as to not roll away when lifted once more.

Gathering the tray ocne more from upon the flood, she lifts it carefully with both hands, arms fully extending forward is in offering. He head bows forward between her arms, hair draping over her shoulders to fall over her breasts a little, the rest spreading slightly across her back, some few locks only paritally obcscurring the tattoo and brand on her shoulder. Taking two breaths she spoke softly with a voice that demands nothing, surrrenders everything, and calls to her past and her present. "This kajira offers Kalana, may it she and it be found pleasing." 

Waiting a few spans of breath, she lifted her head only enough to see as she gently pushed the tray and its drink onto the table. With that done and she was certain it was both stable and done properly, she leans back for only a breif moment, then raised her hands again. Only this time the offering is different, her hands are empty, upturned and crossed at the wrists. She bows her head even furtehr than before, fully streaching herself forward in what others might consdier supplication, but to her it was so much more. To those who know, who would understand, and possibly to the one her heart was in pain for. 


And as she finally broke, the tears coming forth to fall on the floor of the bar, that no one might see.




((I thought about trying something, to show you a little of who I played, a bit of her history in action as it were, and hint of one side of her soul as it were. Please bear with me as I do this, its the first time in a very long time I have choose to write this out in detail from scratch. Maybe it will help lead to some role play I yearn for with those who remain without feeling like I am trying to force my way in. I hope you enjoy this.


Joe Spivey's picture

Nicely evocative and written with calm reflection, like an actor adjusting her costume in the mirror before he cue. Be aware of mixing the past and present tenses, though, because the sudden changes jar the narrative flow. This little story works well in giving the reader, and potential players, good strong indications of Jeassiah's character. I hope it bears fruit.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

( very detailed moment by moment account, most enjoyable. Thanks

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

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