Wednesday, September 30, 2009

I Give My Master Control Of My Cutting

I cut because it hurts. I cut to block out the emotional pain. Physical pain is much easier to endure than emotional pain. It’s a release that I get nowhere else. I am not into illegal drugs nor do I drink myself numb. I function just like you. I go to work, just like you...do all of those other things just like you do. I just have a different way to cope with stress.

My weapon of choice is a razor blade. It’s small easy to hide and of course very very sharp. The whole process is very ritualized for me. I keep everything exceptionally clean and I use a fresh snow white cloth after.

I remove my shirt and bra so they are not stained. Lay my arm across a table or desk turning it so that my under arm is exposed. The skin there is soft and the area easier to hide. Under each arm there is about 5 inches of marks about 2 inches in length in various degrees of healing. I cut about once a week now. It varies on what’s going on in my life. Once a week is good, I have cut once a day in the past.

I am careful to not let my anxiety or emotions have me cutting to deep. A trip to the ER would be disastrous for me.

One of my nightmares is being locked up in a place with no escape and no one that hears my pleading or *does* hear it and does not care. Cutting is not something you can just lock someone up until it’s over type of thing. It’s not a withdrawal like a drug addict or a drunk would go through. And yet the adrenaline and sense of release that comes along with cutting is addictive in its own way.

I will find a way to cut so do not try to stop me.

Do I think I will ever stop? It causes me great anxiety to think so. This is not an easy thing to think about stopping and what will replace it?

I am not trying to kill myself by doing this. I just want to blur the emotional pain...stop it for just a time so I can catch my breath and continue. If I wanted to kill myself it would be done.

As I bring the blade to my skin I put it so one corner is pressed in for a downward stroke. At this point I am usually already crying and I think my breathing changes. Putting the full cutting edge of the blade down does not work for me. The cut does not go as smooth and I seem to have less control.

The cut is quick and I am instantly mesmerized and a bit outside myself as I watch my skin part cleanly. Time stops and it seems like an eternity until I see blood. (The reality I am sure is that it is mere seconds.) Suddenly my mental anguish becomes a thing that’s real, a physical reality. It’s not something just in my mind. Even the pain is physical, proof that I hurt in a very real tangible way. And it does hurt me. I do it because it hurts.

I press the white cloth that I have wetted with water before hand against the cuts and hold it there a moment, the water makes the cloth cool against my heated skin and I like the patterns the bright red blood makes as it soaks in, as if the towel also bleeds with me. My hands tremble and I spend considerable time watching the blood escape.

Afterwards I am generally quiet and tend to be able to think more clearly about things. For the next few days the pain will be constant as the cuts move against my clothing. When the pain starts to lessen the desire to cut again increases.

Now that I am in a D/s relationship I have given over to my Master the control of when I cut. This is an ongoing struggle for me as I have discussed in previous posts. But it feels to me that it is not possible to keep this to myself and then kneel before him and say I submit fully.

And he has me thinking something I have never considered before. Replacing it possibly totally or in part with flogging. I trust him enough to try.

Monday, September 28, 2009

A BDSM Quote I Like

I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don't mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don't mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling. All that, I am capable of doing but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.

Anais Nin

Sunday, September 27, 2009

September 27, 2009 Good Night Master 10:30 pm

As I head to bed I kiss your boots, feeling the silver anklet move along my heel I just wanted to say this one more thing.

Given the time and the chance to do so I *will* mold myself to Your desires just as I have done here on line. It is my way, has always been my way. One of those things that most people have thought of as unusual or self destructive in the past, has found its home at last at your feet without manipulation or cruelty.

I love You, my Master

eirene

Saturday, September 26, 2009

The Meaning of Being Fully Owned...

The meaning of being fully owned…

Begins with slave rules. The reality is sinking in little by little. It was more emotional than I thought, receiving them. At first I did not even read them…just held them in my hands letting a sudden wave of surrender waft over me.

Symbolically I felt a leather collar slide around my neck with the end slipping through each notch as it was pulled tightly to my neck. One more link one more step to full submission. I am giving my Master control over all aspects of my life and my body.

I *am* scared. How does anyone ever make this decision quickly or casually? I almost forget to breathe!

These are my first slave rules…to be added to over time as my Master decides. As is his way...he reels me in slowly. Tugging on the leash just enough to let me know who is in control, as I release more and more to him.

This is my response to his slave rules for me. Which are listed below my responses with his permission.

I have always known that his domination of me would include sexual aspects. I *am* a sexual woman and something would be missing for me in my submission if that were not a part of it.

Part of this control means I cannot touch him in the ways a vanilla woman might. Not without permission anyway. It can be frustrating; however it has its upside. I can flirt and flirt and flirt outrageously. Side long glances, move my body just so...take a bit longer to bend over perhaps...look at him a couple seconds longer than necessary. Move my body softly up into his...subtle but powerful. Move my hand along his thigh...place a kiss to his shoulder...his chest. Smile a smile no human male could resist, to name just a few.

My cell phone has become somewhat of a pseudo leash. It’s a comfort to me that he has the power to call me anytime and expect me to answer no matter where I might be.

I do accept his punishments although I hate them. I hate knowing I have not been pleasing. It’s often worse than the punishment. I do tell and expose myself when I have done something I should not have. Mostly because I have this wicked guilt complex that will not rest until I do.

My trust is constantly pushed to its limits to make for new limits and further submission. Things that seem so simple a task turn out to be so much more. Intended or not by him, to be a test of trust. And this last time I just exhaled and let go... figuratively falling back into him not knowing whether or not he would catch me...actually not expecting him to, and yet there he was. Knowing what my limits once were he did not let me fall into the possibility of humiliation. Yet I fell because he asked me to. The wonderful surprise is that he *was* there …waiting …patient...expectant. My submission took two steps forward that night.

It’s terribly erotic knowing I keep my body shaved for my Master’s use. Enough said on that rule. *smiles*

It is a huge struggle still at times knowing I have given him the power over my cutting of myself. It’s such a deeply personal thing. And it makes me feel very helpless knowing I have given that to him. There have been a couple times I think I have requested it back. Times when I was afraid that he would use that power to hurt me emotionally. Maybe use it to control me. Maybe Keep it from me when I might beg and beg for it. Like a drug addict doing anything for that next fix. He has never done that, in fact the exact opposite has happened. He watches me and notices when I am highly stressed and needing that release.

I love the way my body feels when the flogger has been unforgiving. When the softness of the sheets or my blouse rub against the marks and cuts. It takes my mind back to him and his control of my pain and pleasure.

I accept completely that my Master has other relationships outside of ours. My respect is such that even though I can call him, I don’t/wont. It is not my place to assume he wishes to hear from me. He will let me know when he wants me. I don’t get jealous and I am unendingly patient. Weeping and wailing would not get me the attention I crave anyway. And that is not the relationship I want. He has a life and love outside of us. I love him enough to want that for him. I want whatever or whomever that is.

The last rule I consider his way of saying. “And remember I love you”


My slave rules:
1. I am a slave to my Master, and the primary function in my life is to serve, obey, and please him. He is a sexual man, and so my every interaction is to be tinged subtly or overtly with my sexuality, showing it off for him in my manner, my dress, and my words. My clothing, always of good taste, will be chosen to be pleasing to his eye, whether in a professional, casual, vanilla, or lifestyle environment.

2. I worship my Master and my Master’s body, and whenever I touch or kiss his body will do so in a way to let him feel the depth of that worship. I will reinforce my sense of worship by kissing his boots each night before I go to bed and saying goodnight to him aloud whether he is there or not. I worship my Master’s cock, and I will treat it with reverence, never touching it or his balls unless he has given me explicit permission.

3. My Master protects me and keeps me safe, in ways that are not even always known to me. I will always have my phone with me and will always respond if he calls me, for he respects the other parts of my life and if his call intrudes on one of those other parts it is because it is important for him to speak with me. If I am at work and unable to answer, I will return his call immediately when I am able.

4. I will accept all discipline and punishments my Master may impose without complaint. His punishment of me is a sign of how deeply he cares for me and for my status as his slave. I will confess every transgression to him, because I know that if he discovers that I have attempted to keep a transgression hidden from him, it will cause him deep and profound disappointment in me as his slave that will be far worse than any punishment he may impose.

5. I am always in submission to my Master, whether he is present or not, ready to please him at any time, in any place, under any circumstances, regardless of who may be present. It is he who judges how to keep me safe, protect my reputation and his, and I trust his judgment.

6. I shall never remove the anklet that I wear, except for the most brief and minor of instances, for it is a symbol of his true ownership of me.

7. I will take as much pride in myself and my body as my Master does, and my bearing and manner will reflect the same confidence in myself that my Master has in me. I will keep my body healthy and fresh and pleasing, for he owns my body and its appearance is a testament to the honor I that I show him.

8. I will keep my pussy shaved for my Master, and when I shave it for him I will remind myself that I keep it shaved not for my own pleasure or comfort but because he owns it and wishes nothing, not even the hair of my body, to keep it hidden from him.

9. I give my Master control over my cutting, and I trust that he understands the true scope of this gift of control to him. I will keep a razor blade close to me that is my Master’s blade, to be used by me as his blade only if the need is overwhelming. If I need to use it without him, I will do so without shame, but will tell him that I have used it at the first opportunity by moving my rose. I will never cut myself with any blade that has not been identified as his blade.

10. I give my Master control over my sexuality, and will accept whatever restrictions he places on me to have sex with others or to pleasure myself. Whether my body is to feel satisfied or aroused, no matter how intense or deep the hunger is his decision and his alone. I will not have sex with any man, orally or vaginally, before I meet him.

11. All my choices shall be based on whether or not they will please my Master.

12. When my Master speaks, even if I am speaking, I will fall immediately silent so that I am able to listen to his every word.

13. I worship my Master’s whip, flogger, and knife. I wear his marks on my body with pride and will gladly suffer his use of those instruments for I know that he will not use them ever to cause any permanent damage to my body, but instead to share the deepest parts of ourselves with each other.

14. I accept that my Master’s relationship with me is one of multiple relationships that he has, and I will always respect those other relationships with as much conviction as each of us respects our relationship together, taking no action to cause conflict within them.

15. I have no limits with my Master, and I trust him to explore them and to take me past them only when he thinks both that it is important and that I am ready.

16. My Master is always with me. No one has the power to cause within me any real fear, anxiety, or distress. If someone does cause such feelings within me, they will be fleeting, for I need only feel his anklet around my ankle, his collar around my neck, or his marks on my body to know that I am his cherished slave and that life is peaceful and content so long as he and he alone is pleased with me.

Friday, September 25, 2009

What I Love About Being A Woman And A Slave

There are so many reasons just where to begin. I think at the core I love that feeling of being cherished. Something that my Master owns that he very much enjoys and avails himself of on a pretty regular basis.

I have a deep seated need to relinquish control.

The butterflies I feel in my stomach when my Master’s eyes take on that sultry smoky tone.

Being kissed by someone that knows how.

I am free to be the sensual and sexy woman I am. All those things that some may think are extreme indulgences for a woman suddenly becomes mouthwatering examples of the care I take to be unending physically pleasing. Perhaps like a soft massage that relaxes me taking away any stress I might have had. Manicures, pedicures and hair appointments. Whatever makes me feel more sensual is more than just a scrumptious appeasement it actually boarders on requirement.

Taking a nap in the middle of the day as my Master whispers in my ear all the ways I am submissive and pleasing to him. I drift in and out of sleep as his words go straight to my subconscious, there to take up permanent residence.

His complete acceptance of who I am.

Pleasing him.

Sitting at his feet quietly while he works.

Watching his eyes roll back in his head as he cums in my mouth, his hand gripping my hair roughly.

How I can still feel the memory of him within my body throughout my day.

The taste of him on my tongue.

When he kisses me hard and demanding.

When he fucks me hard because he can.

The pleasure I get just breathing in the smell of him.

How he holds me.

His laughter .

How growly his voice gets when he wants to use me.

The soft way he snores.

The warmth and hardness of his body pressed against mine as he sleeps.

How he keeps me focused … I tend to get caught up in details of things.

How unflappable he is.

His depth of compassion.

How he protects me.

Being used for his pleasure.

The way I feel when he calls me back to bed because his body is hungry.

The way I feel when he presses me to my knees before him.

How he…

Whips me,

Cuts me,

Binds me,

Fucks me,

Owns me,

I have never in my whole life felt more loved than I do right now as a true slave to one man. There is not one part of my life that it does not affect. I smile more...walk with the confidence of a woman that is treasured for all the gifts she gives. I beg fucking more as my state of arousal is constant.

I *am* a very content slave. I am right where I wish to be. Don’t pity my perceived imprisonment; I have no need of it. Instead envy my complete and total surrender into a loving Dominant submissive relationship. Where no needs of mine are unmet. Can you say the same?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Unwavering Loyalty And Obedience

Unwavering loyalty and obedience to him in all things. Wonderful words but what do they mean in application?

1. That he need never wonder if I am unfaithful. No one else touches my body (he owns) without his permission.

2. Knowing that every word and action of mine reflects on him as my Master and his ownership of me.

3. That I keep his rules firmly in the forefront of my mind. They have a purpose he imposed. Be that, to keep me safe or to reinforce my submission to him on a continual basis.

4. That private things stay private. He need never worry that I discuss things with others that we talk about in private.

5. That I will accept any and all punishments that he decrees.

6. When I am allowed to accompany him that I am ever vigilant of his needs and my compliance. I will keep opinions to myself unless asked for them especially in the vanilla world where his control remains but is in a more subtle form of looks and wordless commands.

7. Even when we are in a group setting and I have been given permission to wander about with others in the room that I remain constantly aware he may summon me with just a word or gesture. So I keep my eyes and ears open watching so that I always know where he is in the room.

8. I make a conscious effort to stay in tune with his interests

9. I will always do everything in my power to make sure all of his needs wants and desires are satisfied. If my Master is smiling and satisfied then my day is complete.

10. I never question a command for that would give the appearance that I place my will over his.

11. He is always my primary focus

12. I trust him to make the best decisions in regards to me and our continued D/s relationship.

13. I trust him to always be clear about his expectations so that I am not left feeling like I don’t know what to do or how to react in any given situation.


My submission has changed so much since I began, that I can say with all frankness; I am no longer that woman.

The woman who was unsure where she belonged or in what type of life.

The woman who had this craving and a need to please with no knowledge of just how that could be accomplished.

I came to my Master wounded and with a soul so well protected I thought no one could get past my defenses. But he approached me from another angle one I was not expecting. His never ending patience in this area was/is confusing to me but it sparkles with the brilliance of a true Master.

He knows me well...how did that happen?

This being said under no circumstances think my Master is not demanding. Because he certainly is, and I love it. He has rules and expectations that have no room for contention or question. It is the way of a true Master. That continuous quest for more and more control. And the more demanding he is the more submissive to him I become.

The trail to find him has not been an easy one. I am a submissive and the possibilities for exploitation and mental anguish are huge. I have in the distant past, allowed myself to be put in situations that were unsafe and where I experienced true and deep lasting mental cruelty and physical pain.

I have been in relationships that have left my soul shattered like ice crushed under a man’s boot on a cold winter’s day only to feel myself melt away with the sun as if I had never even existed.

My life has images of rape in the past, inescapable nightmares, cutting. There is nothing in my life that at one point or another has not been taken from me, even my sense of self. I have imagined and even planned my death. The ultimate escape.

I am a complex slave, not so easy to understand. Trust comes slow and the path to my heart has many blocked passages but *this* man...my Master…instead of plowing through in a rush to get to the center. Instead entered with confidence and with each step proved over and over to me by example not just pretty words that I could trust him with all the darkness.

I have often wondered why he takes the time and commitment that I know I require. There are most assuredly slaves that are easier to get to submit.

I cannot answer for him I can only say what I hope is part of the reason… That he knows without a doubt I have a true slave heart. That underneath my appearance of strength and sometimes coolness is a woman wishing only to give herself in complete devotion to the man who owns her collar.

That he senses that beneath that tough girl exterior lies the velvet folds of a tender rose...smelling sweet and soft to the touch yet with layers upon layers of petals all wondrous and perfect in their own right. Each one different yet the same and when they have all been stripped away to the center it is then and only then that I will truly be his the way I was always meant to be his.

Among the soft fragrance of the rose petals of my heart he will then possess me in all the ways a slave should be possessed by her Master.

I have found my place and it is at the feet of a man I am honored to call my Master.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

The Dance

And so we danced. That oh so delicate dance of Master and slave. The steps were new to me but he led and I fluidly anticipated his moves, his hand firmly around my waist guiding me in the direction he wished. I remained breathless beneath his domination, intoxicated by his control of me.

There were times he would twirl me under his arm, safe and protected and others where he would swing me out away from him letting the leash dangle. It was at those moments I was the most afraid. When I felt as if I was beyond his reach. It was in this way that he beckoned me over and over to mentally submit to him again and again.

My long history of nightmares refreshed themselves with a vengeance. Why? Perhaps because as my sense of vulnerability and submission increased so too did my fears.

Am I giving my Master the power to destroy me, emotionally? And do I trust him enough not to?

This reoccurring nightmare has been one of the worst over these last two years and the dark symbolism is not lost on me…..

My darkest dreams would sweep in with the ferocity of a summer storm. Winds twisting and turning, angry, while I stood in the doorway not sure if I should go out or stay. Outside the thunder crashed shaking the ground like the earth itself were threatening to crack down the center.

I screamed, cried and sunk down within the door frame with my knees up in my chest and my arms wrapped around them. “Master, I am so afraid, please come for me”.

His voice penetrated the roar of the wind and rain without effort. It was firm and strong, serious and full of compassion “Eirene, I am here, you need only reach out your hand to me so that I can grasp it.”

With tearful longing I looked at him standing there, but the deep crevasse in the earth between us looked deep, endless and not crossable. “Master I can’t, do you not see the dark gaping cavern that separates us? Please Master will you not come for me?”

His hand remained extended even as he shook his head no. “My slave, at some point you must relinquish your fear and trust me. I will *not* let you fall. The space you see between us… it’s an illusion, a leap of faith, and you must come to me I cannot come to you.”

I sobbed frozen in my fear and unable to move “I am lost then, never to escape the elements of my nightmare.”

Then I would awaken to the masculine smell of him pressed up against me his arms tight around me one hand in my hair as he nuzzled my neck. “Shhhh, my girl. You are safe, all is well. My collar remains secure around your neck. Let it always remind you that you are well protected and very owned” Possessively his hands would move over and down my body urging my legs apart as he slipped between them. His way of connecting us and comforting me.

And so in the dance he once again pulls me back under his arm firmly so that I have no doubts where I belong. And little by little I feel the walls crumble around my heart and I submit my will again.

This dance is a continuous and long one as my Master embraces all that I am. Not just all the good happy things but the dark things as well. Over the weeks and months to come I would continue and still continue to submit and turn over to my Master all aspects of myself. And he continues to accept me on every level. And as he does that my love and devotion to him grow.

Monday, September 21, 2009

What Makes a Slave - my thoughts

The next few months after that were spent in a myriad of ways as we learned each other. There are so many dimensions to a D/s relationship. But most of all I just wanted to know and learn what pleased Him in every detail.

Submission and trust cannot be rushed. There is no fast track to get there. It takes as long as it takes. There are always issues to overcome and many of us do not come this far in life without that baggage. And I had no idea when I started this journey that I would come face to face with every demon and monster in my closet. For some reason, and innocently enough, I had assumed that in my slavery I could hide those parts of me that even I did not want to look at. It was all about my Master, after all. His needs, His desires, His pleasures. Finally a true escape for me, I need think of nothing else but pleasing him.

My obedience has roots in the multifaceted and deep-seated feelings and emotions I have for my Master: devotion, love, respect, desire, longing, lust, admiration to name a few. It also has roots inside me, in my deeply held needs to serve, please, endure, and surrender.

Obedience resonates with me. I would do anything Master asks of me, without hesitation, and that feels completely and totally right to me.

If I have done something I know I should not I have to tell Him right away. I always take punishments to heart. It’s devastating when He is disappointed with me. And even though I try to be the perfect slave the reality remains that at times I do slip and do something without thinking or I become to comfortable.

And so I watch and listen... keeping mental and written notes trying to mold myself to Him. Every time He says I love it when you....... it pleases me that........I very much enjoy.......

I want to bring a smile to His face every time I do not have to be reminded of something.

First and foremost...I needed to remind myself...relax and don't forget to breathe...he likes me already...that’s why I’m here.

Master can be very romantic and tender and at other times lusty and needy of a hard romp, taking me quickly and hard... (God I love that!)

I have a special section in my closet where I keep all of His favorite outfits or colors to see me in. Every time He is wowed by what I wear I stick that outfit in there...or sometimes He even says...”that goes in Master's favorites”
Speaking of clothes...high heels and...Master likes anything that exposes the underneath of my breasts...like a short little crop top that leaves that area exposed....He also likes short shorts...the ones that show part of my ass. Short skirts with at times, no panties….. Also leather, latex, lace, lingerie and low cut anything.

I never touch His cock without permission, even if we are already in bed I wait for his direction. He will either put my hand there or tell me to touch Him.

Master loves, loves, loves His boots kissed and licked.

He likes it when I show subtle signs of my devotion in public as well as private...so small things like...putting my hand on His thigh or the back of His leg while He speaks to others and I am sitting at his feet ...for example.

I am not allowed in Master's Quarters without permission...ever. He however has access to mine...at His whim. I have at times walked in and found Him sitting there waiting for me.

When I enter a room and He is there I walk straight to Him to greet Him. No one else in the room matters. I approach and stand to His right and just a half a step behind Him. Until He acknowledges me I say nothing to anyone. When I am leaving before him He is the last one I say goodbye to. No other words are said by me once I have said my farewells to my Master. I just go.

Master sees all and forgets nothing.

I listen for what kinds of things He is interested in and I read up on those things
Part of my role as His slave is to be able to interest Him and entertain Him ... in all ways.

When I see Him I take a quick assessment of His mood. Is He smiling? What is His body posture? How does He say hello to me? What is the tone of His voice?

Is there a certain kind of Role Play that He likes...I study it if don’t know anything about it.

Too many slaves confuse submissiveness with passiveness. I don't want to be overly passive ... I want to be active, original ... always thinking of ways to please Him.

I want to know His body and its reactions so well that I could teach another girl how to please Him and send His senses reeling.

I weave within Him the essence of my devotion. It has become as much a part of me as my flesh and my spirit. He need only think a thing and it shall be done if it is within my power to make it so. If His mood requires the obedient quiet slave, than I will be that woman. If His mood requires an outlet for harshness, than I will be the woman who begs His whip. If His mood requires the sensual touch of a pleasure slave, I am also that woman. If He commands it of me it shall be done. No,... will not pass these lips that kiss Him with the heat of passion, it is not henceforth a part of my vocabulary. He can take what He wants when He wants, so why is this so important? Because I give it up freely with all my heart. I lay all I am at his feet to do with as he wishes when He wishes. It is not this collar I wear that keeps me.

That is what I think the ideal slave is ... shifting with her Master, becoming what He needs ... so that she is always what He needs. If one perhaps did not have that spectacular body or youthful countenance...The other things would still make her an exceptional slave wanted by many. Those other things are nice...but not what makes a slave a slave

Sunday, September 20, 2009

My Collaring

I had no idea that during his trip he had his own doubts as to whether I would be his upon his return home. That during that separation I would have found another Master. After all we had only known each other a few weeks before he left. His happiness radiated from him, as he accepted my submission.

The day that he formally collared me was a joyous one. Master planned everything down to the smallest detail without revealing anything to me in advance. He blindfolded me and took me to a lush green park where I felt as if I had stepped into a fantasy world of beauty. Cliffs surrounded us on three sides as we stood beside a quiet pool surrounded by flowers, birds and one very sweet frog was also in attendance.

The park was very crowded that day but somehow no one entered into our secret tranquility or I was so focused on him that I noticed no one else.

The words he spoke reflected his pride in my ownership, and the seriousness of this simple act of collaring.

This collaring ceremony are my Master’s words exactly how he prepared them that day and also from a letter he wrote and gave to me on our two year anniversary just a month ago. His memory is impeccable.

“You stand here before me as one who was once free. Free to make every decision that governs the course of your life. And free to make one ultimate decision that will change everything about you. It is your choice to offer your submission to me.” His voice was quiet and melodious, deeply smooth. “It is not something I demand from you, but is instead a wonderful gift. It is the ultimate gift one person can give to another. We stand here alone, privately, as a reminder that the collar you will wear symbolizes complete devotion to me. There will be nothing else in all the world that matters as much as that devotion. And so we do this together. You and I. But otherwise undistracted by anyone or anything. This private act is focused. And the collar you accept today will forever remind you of that focus.”

I knelt trembling before him my eyes lowered in respect and tears moving down my cheeks as he placed the collar around my neck.

“By accepting this collar from me, you offer me the gift of your complete and total submission to me. Your unquestioning obedience to my will in all things. Your unwavering devotion to me and to whatever I desire. And by offering you this collar, I accept the responsibility that it entails. I will always treat you with the respect and honor that this collar represents. I will protect you, physically and emotionally. I will teach you and train you. And I will not shirk from my duty to discipline you so that these lessons are imprinted on you and become an indivisible part of you. In short, I will forever love you as your Master.”

He locked the collar around my neck, where it would remain. I was his, and the collar now announced that to the whole world. It announced that I had given up myself to him and that he had accepted me.

Later, he would take me to a room that he had filled with flowers. They were everywhere in that room and he joined the two of us together with his body, coupling and spilling himself inside me to complete the act of claiming me as his own.

He said something that night that he would say again in the weeks, months, and years to come. They were words that sprang from him, unprepared, almost as though from a supernatural presence, but they spoke a simple truth about the two of them.

“I will never let you go. Never.”

***

On that amazing day in wondrous beauty in the inner sanctum of my guarded locked soul, a small flickering tendril of warmth was lit from within as his hand cupped my chin and lifted my eyes to look into his. This man was very different than any man I had met before; it’s why I chose him and why I feared him. I would have to keep my defenses securely up to not fall into what I thought would be a deep abyss and complete loss of self…

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Meeting Master Stephen

I am smiling as I begin this post. My Master is much better at telling this part of the story than I am. Or is it that I love how soft his voice gets as he talks about the first time he saw me?

The first time I saw him was as I sat in the commons area of the University. It was the duty of all slaves in training to greet visitors. It reinforced protocol by actually using the lessons we were taught rather than have it be all words and lecture. Another advantage was that it also gave student slaves the chance to meet visiting dominants and possible future Master or Mistresses in a safe environment.

I noticed him right away. His manner was strong and confident yet calm and reassuring. I was a quivering mass of nerves. I was not the type of slave that generally got a lot of attention. I am quiet by nature with people I don’t know. But always always aware of what is happening all around me. I watched him and listened to how he spoke, what kind of questions he asked of me and the others. I knew that he took special moments to talk to me personally somehow knowing that I might not be as forward as some of the other slaves.

Over a few weeks I actually started looking forward to his visits at the University. I noticed the times he would usually arrive in the evening and made sure I was there at that time if at all possible. He never took advantage of his position of power like some of the others who came by. And once he even stayed a bit later than usual when an overbearing Dom was visiting and made me feel uncomfortable.

I found myself drawn to him in a way I had yet to understand. He had this mixture of strength and tenderness that pulled at me. Our talks took on a more serious tone and I began to ask him deeper questions about what his expectations were of a personal slave. If he had any other slaves or desired to have anymore. If so, then how many? How did he administer punishment? What were his thoughts on the qualities of the “perfect” slave for him?

And I shared with him my dreams of a Master. I spoke of loyalty and devotion. Giving my whole self in complete submission at some time in the future to a Master that realized what a gift it was. We grew closer as the days passed and I felt that he was the Master I wished to kneel before.

It was during this time that he told me he had a far away trip coming up. And that the area was so remote that he would not be able to communicate with me. He told me he did not think it was fair to collar a slave and then be gone for 3 weeks so He asked me to do something for him…he asked me to continue at the University, learn all I could and also to meet with other potential Doms. But agree to not accept another Dom’s collar until after his return. And then at that point let him know of my decision in regards to choosing a Master.

Three weeks with no way to speak with him was a horribly long time. I did all he asked of me, but no Dom compared to him. As the days and weeks went on I began to question myself and my budding devotion to a Master that may have changed his mind during his long absence.

One night after a lecture I begged counsel from one of the instructors. She was one of my favorite Mistresses at the University. After all of the other slaves left she came and sat beside me and just waited for me to find the words to speak. I cried as I explained about the Dom I wanted as Master even though I had spent time talking with many others I felt he was the one. But what if he no longer wanted me?

She asked me his name and then smiled. “I know this Dom. He is honest and sincere. He will keep his commitment to you just as you have to him. All will be well, Eirene. You have become the proper slave any Dom would be proud to own.”

As the time for his return approached I readied myself to meet with him. I had made my decision and kept my promises. When he arrived home and sent for me I felt like I might faint.

“Greetings, Sir,” I said as I knelt before him “It is good to see you. How was your trip?”

He told me of many of the wonderful things he had seen and done and then I took a deep breath and with trembling hands folded in my lap I spoke. “You asked me to meet with other potential Masters and Mistresses, and I have done so. I have been taught that submission is a gift of the heart. So, I offer my heart to you, and if you choose to accept me, I promise to serve you to the best of my ability.

Friday, September 18, 2009

My Training Begins

I kind of wandered after that for awhile. Unsure as to whether to continue to try and develop that side of me that cried out in the stillness of the dark, when all my defenses were down. I tried very hard to keep it pushed down deep inside, involving myself in as many distractions as I could. But, it never died...never ceased. I grew despondent and heart heavy. And after a few months of trying to hold that door shut I opened it again telling myself...one more time...one more shot. I had to try.

I searched all over looking for a place that trained slaves/submissives. The choices were a dizzying array of Dominants, Schools and Organizations professing to be the best in developing that spirit of submission. In the end I chose a well established University with a long track record in the community. I visited a few times just to get an overall feel of the place the students and instructors. It had a definite slant toward the feminine lesbian side. Although not restricted to that. It felt safer to me, and somehow softer. Over the few months I was there I would come to realize how very hard Dommes (female dominants) could be. They did have a softer side yes, but it was also combined with strong hard characteristics.

There were two choices upon application and after acceptance. Either you paid for each session/lecture or you submitted to the University. Agreeing to be collared and sold by them after training. While this sounds harsh let me explain. No sale was ever against the slave’s wishes. There was a process involved of informal meetings and getting to know one another under the watchful eyes always of the instructors. The sale of a slave was *always* by consent.

The term slave can bring up thoughts not related to BDSM or the D/s relationship at all. I am not at all referring to the darker aspects of illegal slavery. Where people are forced against their will to do anything and everything with real aspects of torture and death.

What I *am* referring to is a lifestyle of loving another person that surpasses what society might classify as normal. It is a relationship in which the balance of power is unequal. It is about the mind, about psychological control and internal (mental) enslavement.

D/s is not about the hardware, it's not about pain, and it’s not about bondage. D/s is about an exchange of power.

A slave’s submission is not beaten nor coerced out of them; they give it willingly to their Master/Mistress; they understand and treasure this gift of self and trust, and will use it for the betterment and happiness of both of them.

As long as neither partner irreparably violates the other's trust, they exist in a harmonious balance of complete surrender and complete control. For most people in such relationships, the best words to describe themselves are Master/Mistress and slave.

And so I began my formal training, having accepted the choice of taking the school’s collar and the relative safety of knowing that they would help me make that all important decision at the end in the choice of a Master.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

My First Steps

I entered the online BDSM experience in February of 2007. With anonymity for protection I felt safe to begin to explore this new world.

In my attempt and eagerness to feel that sense of being owned and controlled I submitted quickly...to quickly to the first Dom that was willing to take me. I had zero training as a slave. Even unaware of basic protocols like how to kneel. So I was aware I was not much of a slave at this point. Unfortunately the Dom was also uneducated and while he was very kind he lacked the ability to fill my craving to be controlled. But I stayed because I did feel a sense of duty and loyalty. As the weeks past he added more girls to his chain, I believe at the final point he had six in total. I was considered the first girl. There is a lot of responsibility involved in that and I took them on with pride.

He then hired a slave trainer to do what he could not. This man claimed to be a real life Master training real life slaves and had my attention immediately. It seemed like the perfect scenario. I could keep my commitment to this Master and be taught by a real life Master….the training lasted all of about 30 minutes I believe before he tossed me out angrily telling me I would never be a slave, that I just did not have the heart and drive that it took.

I was mortified and ashamed; yes, on line still has an impact on a person mentally. He was demanding not only online commitment but real life commitment as well and I had serious trust issues. I did not even know this man and he wanted to take more of me then I was ready to give. It was a dismal failure and I now had serious doubts about my submission.

“Life” continued although I had started to drift somewhat into other role-playing venues of the fantasy type not the submission type. My Master had beautiful slave girls to attend him and I liked that he remained satisfied. I do not get jealous, however I do have a need to feel noticed.

I remember in particular one beautiful summer day when I saw him very intense on his work. I came in quietly and knelt down beside him without a word not wanting to interrupt him. A few of his other slaves were there and I nodded and smiled at each one. He never once glanced in my direction. I don’t at all consider myself a demanding slave, a single look or word would have been enough. Neither one of those was forthcoming and it was at that point that I knew I would not stay with him.

Being released from a collar is a serious thing and I thought long and hard about how to request it. Fortunately or unfortunately this was decided for me when for personal reasons of his own; my Master released all of his slaves and left the online world.

Again I found myself unowned and I felt more vulnerable than ever.