Post by Calista nó Valerian on Jun 28, 2006 22:26:12 GMT -5
The day had started out like any other, really; the sun was out and bright, shining the early morning rays down upon my sun-streaked head as I scattered dried corn to the nesting hens, giggling in mad delight as they flocked to swirl 'round my dirt streaked feet. My mother had told me to wash up after I had fed the chickens, so it was with a reluctant sigh that I upended my wicker basket to dislodge the remaining corn that had gotten stuck between the thick strands. Dipping down to attempt to place a fond pat upon the backs of the favored hens, I had skipped off away from their clucking mass, heading back in the farmhouse to do as my mother had bid. A gleam hit my eye as I rounded the corner that hid the wash basin; my sister, twelve years old, stood before it, admiring herself in the only mirror we had in the house. A soft hum fell from my lips as I meandered my way up to the basin, locking my green eyes upon the pretty pink dress she'd donned to go to the temple of Elua in. It wasn't that I was jealous of her dress; in all reality, I had disliked pink back then, and nor was I envious of her looks. I merely wanted to hear the squeal peel from her lips as I knew it would, rattling off the walls like the bellow of a stuck pig. Dipping my fingers into the stale water, I swirled the dirt from them, pulling off all that I could to muddy it.. and with a clumsy bump, a flick of my wrists, I'd sloshed water over the edge and down the front of my sisters dress. Oh Elua, I knew I was in trouble... but trouble meant a strike and a strike undoubtedly meant a pleasure I'd not yet understood. My sister had squawked like I knew she would, and struck out at me in a most pleasurable fashion, catching me across my face before lowering to pinch my upper arms. I did not fail in my on squeal at that; I was human, after all, and it did hurt. My mother came swooping in and caught me up, hauling me away to sit upon my bed while she called my father in from the fields. I reveled and reeled alike, thinking a whaling would be the result, but curiously.. it wasn't.
Ah, yes.
It was but the next morn that I was packed away in the stout little wagon the neighbors had lent us, and carted away from the little farmhouse; had I known then that I would not see it again, I just might have looked back to stare upon it. As it was, I was fairly bouncing around the back of the wagon, flitting from window to window to catch glimpse of the world beyond.
And thus it was that I came to the House Valerian. I found a friend in pain; a lover of sorts. Its touch was laced through my five foot frame, and the older I became the more tightly its grip upon me. I loved it, cherished it... and feared it. My service to Namaah had been freely and eagerly entered into at the age of ten, and since then I'd been studying the arts of pleasure. I am seventeen now; seventeen, and still a virgin, though my hopes were that my first assignation would come soon, and I would find solace in having the first touch of my marque lit upon my lower back. I yearn, I crave, I yield.
I am Calista nó Valerian.
Ah, yes.
It was but the next morn that I was packed away in the stout little wagon the neighbors had lent us, and carted away from the little farmhouse; had I known then that I would not see it again, I just might have looked back to stare upon it. As it was, I was fairly bouncing around the back of the wagon, flitting from window to window to catch glimpse of the world beyond.
And thus it was that I came to the House Valerian. I found a friend in pain; a lover of sorts. Its touch was laced through my five foot frame, and the older I became the more tightly its grip upon me. I loved it, cherished it... and feared it. My service to Namaah had been freely and eagerly entered into at the age of ten, and since then I'd been studying the arts of pleasure. I am seventeen now; seventeen, and still a virgin, though my hopes were that my first assignation would come soon, and I would find solace in having the first touch of my marque lit upon my lower back. I yearn, I crave, I yield.
I am Calista nó Valerian.