Dam

It feels like forever since I have had a spare moment to actually write. The Den is open though, so I suppose that makes sense. I have a feeling the men would object to my penning a new entry while they get their two coppers worth.

Two. Coppers.

::grunts::

I am still not sure why that pisses me off. I was worth three copper an ahn once upon a time. Hm. Seeing that in writing actually drives home the depths of my own foolishness. A difference that makes no difference is not a difference, hm? It still pisses me off though. He could be making much more coin if he simply let me ....

oh

Damnable man. I think I get it. If I was still able to negotiate my own prices he would turn a much bigger profit but at the cost of allowing me that freedom. At the potential cost of allowing me the retained illusion of being worth more than two copper. It is rather funny really, as I am far more keenly aware of my own lack of worth than most anyone would suspect.

Anyway.

So far the Den is going well, more clients are coming in and I have seen several slaves arriving. Truth is, that familiar feeling of disconnection is settling in again. Around me the hustle and bustle of life flows and ebbs and I find myself cut off at near every conversaton, no focus my own, not even a moment to finish a single sentence it seems before some other man wanders in.

Part of me hates it. Absolutely loathes and detests the pull and tug and hurry and just all of it. I do not think I have seen Skirt or Master for more than two consecutive ehn in the time since the doors opened. I could so easily drown in the chaotic rush of it all, allow resentment to rise perhaps if I worked at it.

But no. If I am to be honest another part of me loves it. To be not only allowed to but required to spill from hand to hand, to give my body freely to random strangers...it is safe. It feeds a large part of me to know that feeling of lust risig in a man by the simple turn of hip or bend of knee. To be so acutely aware that in my body lies the power to divert the floodwaters, to channel them where I want them to go. That, I like.

Stone by stone the dam holds steady and protects me against the whirpools that could otherwise draw me to the bottom and crush me. It better hold. I do not know how to swim.