|
|
|
|
submslave
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
One is a 45 year old. She is a mostly educated slave in the old M/s art form. One has been in the bdsm life for almost 20 years the last 5 in the M/s world. One is a hard worker. She plays hard, and loves to live life to it's fullest. One enjoys all the simple things life has to give. You know, the things that cost nothing but make precious memories forever. One just lost her life partner this past Dec. and just looking for a few to make some new friends in an old life style.
|
|
|
|
|
Release One Please
One started writing her thoughts and feeling with her first Master some 20 years ago. She has always found it easier to write her thoughts and feeling then say them out loud. Speaking the words is so immediate, so in the present, but so gone in the next second. Writing them down gives them permanence, makes them solid, and gives them more thought and weight. It’s how one was originally trained to process, and it’s how most of learned in school. So, here goes the last chaptered on this side one ones life. One is not writing to place blame or hurt anyone. She is writing for insight and clarity, so if this offends anyone she apologies in advance.
Sally was a lonely widow, with 4 very needy kids, when she met Master A. A. is what she will call him in this story. He was and is a great and talented task master. He is smart and wise with decades of experience for summing up people and finding their weaknesses, not to exploit it, but to shore it up, and make them a better person. He said a lot to her on that first day they met. She does not remember most of it, only truly remembers asking him one question. She asked him “When will you hurt me?” He smiled and laughed it off. Thinking back on it, he most likely thought she meant when will you beat her, but that is not what she meant then or now. Her first Master, Mike taught her all about pain, how to take it, when to block it, when to absorb it, how to processes it, and how to use it to obtain release. Physical pain was her intimate best and only friend. This he read correctly. What A. missed, what he has always turned a blind eye to, is the emotional pain sally has always fought with. She was molested by her father, beat by her husband, and left by her first fiancée (he died). She loved men, but did not trust them not to emotionally hurt her. This is what she meant by “When will you hurt me?”. She was asking, “When will you leave her hurting and alone?” This was 8 years ago when she asked him this question. She has her answer. It is bitter sweet.
Sally agreed 8 long years ago to accept Master A. as her trainer. She was not the best of students the thing she was interested in learning she excelled in. The things she did not want to do or was afraid to try she failed at. She got either an A or an F but, for here there was no in between. A. never found a way around this; she at the time did not care. She knows now she only harmed herself. Sally promised never to reveal any of his training techniques so she will only state the results of her training. A. was able to fill in most of the gaps in her past training, she learned to accept the gentle touch; she was trained as a sex slave. She learned the different orgasms, how to obtain them, how to use them, how to store their energy, how to share that energy, and how to heal with it. The main problem with this was this energy became like a drug she needed to exist. A chemical her brain became addicted to. She was never his only slave; as a matter of fact she was never anything more to him than a project, a student. But like most students that stay with the same teacher for many years she fell hopelessly in love with him. He never altered his feeling or his intent. He never changed, even when life changed, when the circumstances changed, he remained stagnant.
Her life changed again 9 months ago. Her second fiancée died in a car crash. She was left alone again. She needed A. more than ever. She needed her drug. He was not able to meet her increased needs. She on her logical mind knows this and asked to be released. He did so without a fight or argument. Now she is lost and alone. They remained friends. She now thinks this is a really bad idea. The drug she needs and craves just out of her reach, but still there with in her sight. She devised a plan to get him out of her mind and soul. She made him mad, mad enough to beat her without mercy. She needed him to hurt her so badly she would hate him, to exercise him out of her. She told him this was her plan. It was why she did what she did. He refused to beat her. Short of this, she needed him to come to her, to hold her, to comfort her, and tell her it will all be ok. He refused to do this as well. Now she remains moribund and he remains stolid; physically free, but mentally and emotionally chained forever. Can there be any true freedom? |
|
|
|
|
Short Back story: ones Fiancée was killed in a car crash, 7 months ago. The car that hit him head on was going 88 mph they never made any attempt to slow down or swerve out of the way. According to the police the 4 twenty something year olds were drunk and high and headed back to jail. Long history of jail, and other crimes. According to a phone call one got three days after the accident, a friend of theirs stated they had committed suicide instead of going back to jail.
One was raised with strong morals and firm Christian beliefs. Ones training really interfered with her beliefs most of the time they went hand in hand. She was trained to be a Warriors Slave; a strong, brave, smart, cunning fighter. Complete with martial arts training.
The conflict: the Slave screamed for vengeance. The Christian wanted understanding and peace , and with three of 4 dead and the 4th in a comma. There was no one to fight. The 4th person in the other car was the owner of the car and live-in girlfriend of the driver.
She wrote me an email today asking for one to forgive her. I guess she is no longer in a comma. lol. I am not really asking for what I should do. Just how does one handle the internal conflict? Either decision will leave the other part of one hurt and betrayed. |
|
|
|
|
We all have heard the stories of the slave girl that kills her self shortly after her Masters Death. One has been in this life for 20 years now and has been formaly trained for 8 of thoes years, and never truly understood it. One has always told herse;f no one Man or Master or person was worth killing your self over. One still fully belives this. One has suffered two such losses in her life in the past 6 years. What one never concidered it was more to it that just the loss of the person. When your are formally trained your mind and body are reprogramed. You really no longer funtion as you did before. One was trained to find sexual release in most every thing she did for or with Master, be it pain, pleasure task, or command. She was trained to feed off that release for energy and focus. She used that engery to heal to center, to be slave. It becomes a way of life, it becomes her natural flow. Then its gone in the blink of an eye. Its so much more than the loss of the person. Its the loss of how to funtion its the emptiness left behind where the chi used to be. Its the brain trying to funtion with all the extra hormans its used to but are now not there.
How do you reprogram? how do you go back to the girl you used to be 20 years ago? how do learn to find a small piece of peace and comtemtment? |
|
|
|
|
Some one asked one "What is your favorite implement? Whip, cane, paddle?"
you might think that question should be so easy to answer but its not.
They all have such a differnt effect on one so, it would be what lesson or ends are trying to achived. The first thing does a slave really ever truley gets to pick her poison. Her ex training Master was such an expert with any implement did not matter what one pick. It hurt as much or as little as he wanted it to. He could make a feather duster hurt more than a single tail and a crop tickle more.
personaly one likes the heavy thud of a flogger , its easy for one to prosses and it relaxes her, but does not take her to the hights real pain does.
paddles and straps one likes the least, she associates them with bad girl needing true punishment, she still gets very wet and has orgasims but mentaly not much pleasure.
canes and whips the sting my mind prosses subconiously it gets the highest or most intenive reactions.
see not an easy question to answer !!!!
Does any one else feel the same ? |
|
|
|
|
food for thought ,
Some one wrote to one today that the slave mind set does not translate well into the real world ther worte "In a Master/slave relationship, the way the Master wants it is the way it is going to be. The slave can opt out, but not disagree. That mindset does not translate well into the real world."
it is one feelings that she guesses they might be correct in some bdsm " I own you so thereofore, I am master and you are slave" relationships. but this slave is not a door mat, and one can and does disagree. As long as she voices this respectly and honestly, disagrement is not only allowed but encougaged. The one thing they did not think of was, while one is a slave and Her Master always has the final say; every one eles in the world is not her Master so they do not have that fianal say. While she is out in the world dealing with the public she must always conduct her self in a way that would make Master proud he owns her. to sham one self in public is to sham ones owner. A true slave could never and should never be a door mat, in ones humble oppion, unless she kept isolated form the world. |
|
|
|
|
the story continues last part : The man waits while she is thinking. When she makes eye contact again, he asks “Are you sure?” She nods. “Then steady yourself and make someone proud of you.” With that he takes a step back, flicks he wrist and lets the fist of many whacks hit her. The first one surprises her. Then the stinging searing pain sets in. She inhales deeply, and then screams thru the gag. He watches her reaction, her every breath, her every movement as he increase the force and tempo of his whacks. Judging by her breathing and facial expressions, He knows she is close to edge. He stops walks to the able puts down the flogger and pick up the cane and walks back to her. Watching her, he waits until she can regain some of her composure. Then he speaks again in the same soft sure strong voice. “With the flogger we have brought you to the edge. With this cane we will set you free.” With that said he starts again on her poor abused breast. Solid whack sounds fill the air along with her muffed cries. She reaches the edge again as he canes all sides of her now stripped ample breasts. Seeing her teeter on the edge for what must feel like hours to her. In reality it just a matter of minutes. He sends her over the edge with one hard solid whack to her now wet juicy flowing cunt. She only knows pain that will not cease. She feels like she is standing on the edge of some great dark black unknown. The worst overpowering pain radiating though all of her from her privet place, one moment then freedom the next. She is floating free now more in touch with herself then ever in her entire life, truly happy, not in touch with the world, just inside of her self. She barely remembers the man helping to lie down and Jason coming in and cutting her free of all her physical bounds, while she is clinging on to the new internal bonds, then being carried to his bed where he just holds her close all night. THE END
|
|
|
|
|
The story cont.... part 4 He reaches down to place just the tip of his finger to her chin to tilt her head up, so at last they make eye contact. Tears are running freely down her checks at this point. “Shhhh, little one no need to cry yet” he says in a soft firm masculine deep voice. “Now calm yourself little one and listen to what I have to say” he states as he wipes away her tears. The calm soothing sound of his voice has her relaxing again. Trying to calm herself, she listens more carefully. “You look beautiful this way. Be still. "She wiggles."You asked Jason to set you free of you own ride and attitude. He must love you very much to go through all this trouble for you. A lot of time and attention when into all this rope work. I am here to set you free of all yours and societies preconceived notations of what today’s women need to be.”
Thinking back to how to this came to be, there she was in her three piece desiner suit, in Jason’s office begging to be taught to be like the rest of the women in his life. Jason,with his golden boy good looks and calm demeanor take in every word she utters, letting her express all her feelings and thoughts never interrupting until she is finished. Then he just asks in a very serious tone if she was sure she wanted this. Now here she sits two days later, legs cramping, beasts hurting, and almost regretting her answer.
|
|
|
|
|
I have been gone awhile. I was out living the life, but life had differt plans for me then I had expected. So I am back but not really ready to start again. Loss is a hard time/thing to deal with.I doing my best to carry on. Hope to be back more and offten. |
|
|
|
|
part 3: THE STORY CONTINUES
When she notices his approach she relaxes in her tight bonds thinking he is here to release her. He first admires the expert rope work. He likes what he sees. Tight ropes cutting deeply into her thighs then around calves force her into kneeling position. Knees wide apart held that way by a spreader bar, exposing her most privet treasure. Ankles tied side by side under her, rope attached to her bound wrists to her ankles. This forces her back upright and to arch slightly. Her elbows are tight together not quite touching and her long red hair flowing loosely down her back. Some one also fitted her with a rope bra. The bra was so tight is was cutting into her so much so, that her tender breasts were swollen and turning a light shade of purple. Looking upwards he notices why he only hears a smallest of muffled sounds. She has a tight inflatable gag covering her mouth. Judging by her bulged cheeks over lapping the straps of the gag it must be fully inflated. She searches his face wondering why he is just standing there and has not released her yet. She is yearning to be set free, as her eyes plead with him as he refuses to make eye contact so she cannot beg for mercy and release. When her eyes travel downwards she notices the flogger in his hands and starts to really panic. Screaming for help, only a small whimper escapes. |
|
|
|
|
Part2 of the story : The table in the corner next to the lamp was just an ordinaryplain wood table nothing out of the ordinary except it was bolted in place. On the table was a note, a short flogger and a cane. Fear filled her as she heard distinctive steps in the hall approaching the room. The sound echoing in her ears mixing with her heart beats as they enter the room and approach. Expecting Jason, she looks up at the stranger. He’s tall with dark hair in his mid 40`s, rugged good looks, 6ft something, physically fit and graying at the temples. Her muffled sounds increase as she tries to plead to be released. She tries in vain to make eye contact. He ignored her. The man walked to the table, he picked up the note, and reads it chuckling, to himself. It was a wicket evil chuckle that sends chills up and down her spine.
He reaches towards the table again and picks up the cane. He tried a few practices swats on the palm of his hand to judge the quality and flexibility of cane. Smiling, obviously liking it he chuckles again. Then he sets it back on the table only to pick up the flogger. It is a short flogger with 2 foot, thin 1/8 inch strip, deer skin, tails. It only has eight tails. It was designed to sting and sting a lot. Testing it, he flicked he wrist forcing it to swish though the air. Liking the weight and the balance of it, He walks to the girl, flogger in hand. |
|
|
|
|
part 1 of a story one has written:
Small sounds escape her muffed gagged mouth, only audible to the trained listening ears in the adjacent hallway. The room was sparsely lit only one floor lamp next to a small table in one corner of the 10 by 10 room. The room was bare except a old cot pad and a bound nude lady in her mid to late 20`s. Her pain is extremely visible in large fully dilated glistening green eyes. Unable to move forced in place by several visible ropes. Cruelly tied ropes impressed deeply into her tender white flesh judging by red angry marks, but expertly tied so not to cut off any circulation.
|
|
|
|
|
One believes her role in life is that of a slave. To her it’s not just during a scene; it’s not a game one plays at. It’s truly who she is. It`s in every fiber of one’s being. She is still in training to achieve this level. One thing she is coming to realize she has some very differ thoughts and philosophies like; the fact that one does not subscribe to the theory that the sub/ bottom/ slave is the one who is really in control. Hello ... once a person submits and is bound and gagged what happens next is defiantly not in their control. Yeah, sure you can use your safe word, but whether or not to you get your reprieve is not up to you. One personally enjoys loves this train of thinking the ability to surender all. It’s one of the many things she enjoys by being a slave. One also believes it’s her lot in life to serve, not as a doormat, but as a strong, independent partner.
<br> from the darkness into the light we find freedom. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Age: 33 |
Columbus,
Ohio |
|
|
|
| |