I designed a piece of jewelry today. It wasn't for any special occasion. However, the project proved to be very significant in terms of introspection. The piece was a simple anklet. Finely polished glass beads strung on a sturdy silver wire, with three specially placed miniature bells. The anklet was pleasing to the eye, and created a slight jingle sound as I pranced around doing my chores. The bell's sound soft enough to please the ear, but not enough to annoy the soul.
Suddenly a memory came flooding back to me, one I had not thought of in years. It was the gentle ringing of the anklet that brought it back to me. I remembered a very similar anklet that served a very important purpose. The anklet belonged to a slave girl named Heather.
I met Heather at a banquet given by her Master. It was only by a twist of fate that I found myself sitting, on a soft down pillow, beneath their dining room table just to the left of my Master.
I had been told to dress quickly, but to leave not one little detail unattended. The dress I found laying across my bed was a soft black silk that hung tea length at the ankles. The shoes he had chosen were not shoes at all, but small black ballet slippers. Although a question formed in my mind, I suppressed it. I had long ago learned that misplaced questions were not eagerly rewarded. However, I couldn't help but wonder to where this would lead.
Sitting beneath that dining room table the soft black silk clinging to my naked body, I no longer needed to know, but I did fully understand. This was a formal lifestyle banquet. I watched quietly as Heather stepped around the table delivering food to every Master's plate and filling every glass. The aromas that spilled forth were a delight in themselves. An occasional smile was passed between the four of us seated beneath the table. Occasionally our Masters would refer to us, the comments being greeted with the knowing glance or a sly caress of our flesh. The one thing that caught all of our attention was the beautiful wind chime affect flowing from the ornament around Heather's ankle.
As the gentleman adjourned to the den, the girls began to rise from our pillows. You couldn't have heard a rooster crow over the immediate questions and greetings that ensued, while we ate our fill of the tempting treats before us. Everyone quickly exchanged names, numbers and information. Then we cleared and cleaned the entire dinning room and kitchen. While we were all in the kitchen one of the girls asked Heather about her anklet and if it represented something special, and all of us paused to hear her answer.
Heather gave us all a knowing look, as she began to explain.
Once a few years back, when her Master felt she was not yet properly trained he had ventured to a lifestyle conference with her. She carried only a small handbag with a room key, ID, hanging from the handbag were some glass beads and a sprinkling of tiny bells that rang slightly as she walked. Although she had tried to follow his steps through the crowded pavilion floor, she had lost track of him in the crowd. She began to panic, and the next thing she knew there were two men clutching her arms and quietly ushering her out of the pavilion. She attempted to scream but a hand was quickly placed over her mouth. The next thing she knew one of the men hit the ground with a thud and the other man soon followed. There she stood starring at her Master. She dropped to her knees fearful of the punishment she felt sure she would receive for losing him in the crowd, but his cool palm against her face told her that admonishment she would not find. He pulled her up, linking his arm in hers and he continued to his seat near the front. Later that same day when they were back in their room he asked Heather to come and kneel before him. Trembling with nervousness she did as she was bid.
"You were in a very perilous situation earlier today, were you not?"
A small shallow voice answered, "Yes, Master"
