Havenhold Journal IV

2/7/11

@12:30 PM

i'm finally starting to feel some significant improvement in my lungs. It's a little over five days since my last cigarette and while i felt some improvement almost immediately, particularly in the strength and duration of my coughing fits, still just about any kind of exertion has winded me. Most of that is, of course, from forty three years of being a heavy smoker, but part is from the extra three thousand plus feet in elevation over what i'm used to.

This morning, i felt a strong urge to chop firewood. In the winter, we use a lot of it. Fortunately, there's a lot available on the property, free for the taking, all it needs is gathering it up and cutting it to fit the wood-burning stove. The inside bin has been pretty close to empty since i got here last Wednesday. Since the wood-burning stove is a major element of keeping the place warm in the winter, and since i am, at present, the only male slave in residence, the sight of that empty wood bin made me feel like i'm not pulling my weight.

@8:30 PM

i got the bin a little over half full this morning; which should be way more than enough to last through the night. i know my arms are going to be sore in the morning. i'm fine with that, more than fine with it. i welcome it. Tomorrow, if i'm permitted, i'll try to get the bin a little closer to full. Once i get it completely full, then it will only be a matter of refilling it every day.

It was a good day today, the best since leaving Tucson. This place is starting to feel like home to me.

Havenhold Journal III

Sunday, 2/6/11

@10:30 AM

Lord Erick and Mistress Caelyn arrived to pick me up about 9:00 AM last Wednesday. It didn't take long to load up, about half an hour. i smoked my last cigarette about 9:30, roughly 97 hours ago now. It really hasn't been so bad. Nobody smokes around me. The nearest store where i could buy cigarettes is twenty miles away. By the time i'm healthy enough to walk that far for a pack of smokes, i won't want the smokes anymore. My cough is getting lighter by the day. i'm not much less winded when i do any excursion yet, but i think the fact that we're around 5,500 feet above sea level, some 3,000 higher than Tucson, has something to do with that.

They've been giving me a few days to get used to it, which, i think is wise. It's a big adjustment. Funny thing is, for the last week or so in Tucson, no matter how much i wanted to or how hard i tried, i could NOT sleep more than seven hours per night. Since i got here, it's been 10 or more every night so far.

We didn't get here until well after dark Wednesday, due to a long stop in Show Low. Thursday evening, we went down to Show Low for the White Mountain Munch. Other than that, i haven't left the property although i have done a good bit of walking around exploring it. Yesterday, we finally got my computer hooked up and running on their internet connection. i missed it; it's difficult adjusting to somebody else's computer. i'll write more when i actually have something to say.

Havenhold Journal II

2/1/11

@ 6:15 AM

Tomorrow. They're coming to get me tomorrow. Tomorrow the life i've been leading, for good or for ill, ends. Tomorrow my choices, my freedom, my rights end. Last Saturday, i got a terrific beating at the DD play party. As i requested, i was strapped down to the “A” frame spanking bench. As i requested, stingies, not thuddies were used on me. As i requested, the beaters concentrated on my thighs, butt and genitalia. As i requested, my nipples, my Achilles nipples as i call them, were left alone. And, when i requested, the beating stopped.

Starting tomorrow, how and when and for how long i'm beaten or otherwise tortured will not be subject to my requests. It will happen when They feel like it, or feel i deserve it. It will be done in any manner They choose. Whether or not i enjoy it will matter only in so far as They decide it matters. Sometimes it will be done for punishment. When that's the case, i rather expect They'll do Their best to ensure that i don't enjoy it. Sometimes it will be done for fun, Their fun. i expect i'll enjoy some of that and will not enjoy other parts of it. Whether i do or do not doesn't matter. Whether They do is all that does matter.

In the contract i will be signing tomorrow, there is a long list of things, by no means and exclusive list, that may be done to me. Maso-pig that i am, most of them are huge turn ons for me. Some of them are for things i don't like. While They cannot control what i like and dislike, at least not yet, They WILL control what is done to me, whether i like it or not. That is the nature of slavery and i wouldn't have it any other way.

Maso-pig that i am, i am not a maso-brat. i'm told punishments will be physical and painful. But, i'm not the type of “slave” who seeks to be “punished” by disobedience or brattiness. That's not being a slave in my book. i hope They'll torture me hard and (fairly) often. But, i hope when They torture me, They'll be doing it because it pleases Them to do so, not because i have displeased them.

i'm not even a little afraid. i'm freaking terrified and the closer the time comes, the more terrified i become. But, along with that terror is anticipation, the wishing that tomorrow would hurry up and come. That's the nature of having the heart of a slave.

This entry reads like i expect my situation to be all about SM and B&D. i am under no such delusion. Havenhold is a working ranch with animals (non-human type) to be tended, food to be grown, structures to be built, repaired and maintained and endless chores to be done. Doing those things will take the vast majority of my time. SM and B&D will only take, can only take a small percentage of that time, although i've been given reason to believe that i may be wearing chains most or all of the time and probably will be wearing a chastity device all the time. i can live with that ;-)

It's starting to get light out and i have a LOT to do today. It's time to get to it.

Havenhold Journal I

1/31/11. @ 8:00 PM

Somewhere around thirty six hours from now, i will become a slave again at over fifty five years old. There's a lot about it that scares the hell out of me. i've never seen the place i hope to spend the rest of my life. i have met the Dominant people of the household, three out of the four that i know of who will have authority over me. The fourth being Their longterm, number one slave, chief cook and Mistress of the Household. i have no problem with the idea of submitting to another slave; hell, i have no problem with the idea of submitting to all the other slaves. The position of “lowest of the low” holds a great deal of appeal to me.

It scares me that this time, there will be no easy way out. If this doesn't work out, i will be homeless, broke and unemployed. The last time i allowed myself to be enslaved, by the PBFH, i still had a job at which i could actually make money; i still had a home of my own. This time, i will have none of that. This will be 24/7/365.25, live-in, TPE slavery, in an isolated, very rural location, many miles from the nearest paved road and quite a distance from the nearest neighbor even. Scary? You better believe it.

But, in many ways, it's less scary than the PBFH was at the beginning. When i first met her, i had a definite feeling that she might just be the Psycho Bitch From Hell. The warning signs were all there. She was bipolar. She was always the center of attention in any crowd. She had nothing but disdain for the local BDSM community. She lived in a rented house with no visible means of support. She proclaimed herself to be a witch, and truly believed in Wicca. She was a smoker, a drinker and a drug user. She used methamphetamine to mellow out. All the signs were there for the Wise part of me to see and the Wise part of me did see them; but the Old Fool in me was unable to resist her profound dominance. From the first moment i actually met her, she took control. She saw immediately that i had “the heart of a slave.” There was no “negotiation.” After she put her collar on me, she sat me down and said, “This is how it's going to be....” Only when something happened that made me unable to trust that my well-being was a top priority to her, was i able to break away from her.

Havenhold has been courting (if that's the proper word) me for about a year. They don't use drugs there; they don't smoke. They are sane. They own their property. It may be a bit primitive. It may be a lot primitive. But, they're not plugging away at nine to five jobs in the city, dreaming in a cloud of pot-smoke about someday building their own BDSM community. They're out there, on the land, doing the work, actively building it.

They've been courting me for a year. To say i was reluctant would be an understatement. After so many trials and so many failures, i had become almost convinced that 24/7 TPE slavery just wasn't in the cards for me, not at my age, with my health. Going up there for the initial, ninety day trial would mean giving up my job, giving up my home, giving up my regular, active involvement in the local BDSM community. i had determined to try it, however, because it seems so close to what i've always wanted. We had originally planned for my trial to begin about the beginning of November, last. i had picked that time because that was when i would have had my $1500 deposit to Yellow Cab paid in full. my plan was to have YC hold onto the check in their Phoenix office, so if the trial didn't work out, i would have a safety net; i could come down to Phoenix and have that money to start re-establishing myself there.

Then, at the end of September, Yellow Cab, in their infinite stupidity, replaced their lousy, computerized dispatch system with another one that was FAR worse. my income went to hell. my deposit went to hell. my income went so low that all i was doing was barely making enough money to keep myself and my cats from starving; nevermind paying the landlord or the electric bill. i stuck it out for quite awhile, hoping it would improve. It didn't. Finally, about three weeks ago, i realized that i would soon be homeless without an income anyhow. i asked if the offer at Havenhold was still open. i was told it was, but it would be the beginning of February before they could come get me. And, i made the decision to go. And, immediately, the decision felt right.

A few days after the decision was made, i went to work one day with a total of $30 in my pocket. i worked twelve hours. If i had paid Yellow Cab their $85 lease for the day, i'd have gone home with $10. i told them where they could stuff their lease and have not set foot on their property since. A few days later, having still more than two weeks before Havenhold would be down to get me and having not enough money to eat for that long, i got hold of an old friend who left YC eight years ago to start his own, small cab company. He was glad to have me aboard, it seems he's had a hard time finding drivers who know what they're doing.

After my first day of driving for him, in which i made all of $30, he told me that he hoped to find a manager for his company, as he is totally fried from working eighteen hours per day, seven days per week. He asked me to work awhile, learn his system, and we'd talk about that in a few weeks. i didn't mention my plans involving Havenhold to him

i worked nine days for him, out of ten in a row. On none of those days did i lose money, but on only three of them did i make more than about $30. Not wanting to leave him totally in the lurch, last Wednesday, 1/26/11, i told him at the end of the day that i'd be leaving town and that Friday would be my last day, prepared if he decided to fire me on the spot. He didn't. The next day, he made me an offer. He said he'd pay me $400 per week, and rent me a house for $150 per month, if i stayed and became his manager. i told him i'd have to think about it for a couple of days.

That was a bit of a little, white lie. The fact was, i didn't have to think about it for more than a couple of minutes. Yes, it would solve my money problem and my soon to be housing problem. But, then i would be the one working eighteen hours per day, seven days per week, in a business that i've come to hate, that i'm at least as burnt out on as he is. i wouldn't quit smoking. i wouldn't quit eating a crappy diet from fast food places and convenience stores. i wouldn't start getting more exercise. i truly feel that if i took him up on it, i wouldn't see my sixtieth birthday. And it would mean walking away the chance to become the slave i've always wanted to be.

i am absolutely sure that the chance will not come for me again. And so, last Friday, 1/28/11, was my last day in the taxi business after 24 years. Hallelujah!

While i have many fantasies about what 24/7, TPE slavery will be like, i have no illusions. i know that my fantasies mean very little. i know that it won't be all sexual service and SM. Hell, it couldn't be, i wouldn't survive a week if it was. Sexual service and SM will be, can be, only a very small part of it. i know that it will be hard. i will be giving up my first and last addiction, nicotine. i will be giving up my freedom.

But, i was never meant to be free and freedom has never been happiness nor contentment to me. i was meant to be a slave; i have the heart of a slave; and only in slavery can i ever find contentment in this life. While i believe that happiness is over-rated and is a transient, temporary thing, contentment can be permanent and contentment would be a great improvement in my life.

i don't expect to be treated fairly. But, i've long known that the words “fairness” and “slavery” do not belong in the same sentence. i may not be given privileges that other slaves there will have. i may not often be allowed to do things i want to do. i may often be required to do things i don't want to do, to do things i very much don't enjoy doing. But, while i despise the term “true slavery” and would never dream of telling others what the rules of their “Owner/slave” relationships should be, as i see it slavery is NOT about what the slave wants or likes, other than his wanting to be a slave. Can one really be a slave if one only does what he wants, only does the things he likes doing? i don't think so. But, the heart of a slave can be contented, i think, even when doing those things that the slave very much dislikes, that he'd only do because his Owners require it of him.

So, yes, as the hours tick away until they come to get me, i'm scared. i'll be headed out on a high wire with no safety net, no parachute to catch me if i fall, no fallback plan. But, perhaps it's better this way. Without having the fallback position if it doesn't work out, i'll be much more motivated to do everything i can to make sure that it does work out.

This journal entry will not be posted right way. It will not be posted until They've read it and approved of my posting it. Unless and until They tell me differently, all journal entries by me will be subject to Their reading, editing or deletion before being posted online. As Their property, all that i am, all that i do and all that i say to the world will be to serve Their purposes.