A Musical Roleplay Adventure Jan 31 @ 11 am SLT

SONGS OF A WANDERING HARP A MUSICAL ROLEPLAY
City of Laura

The Story:

Long days ago ago the story began . . . a ragged wandering harpist approached Laura's Head Merchant Fuzsea in the teaming port of Schendi. HIs harp strapped on his back, the minstrel's gaunt visage told a tale of destitution and his wary glances betrayed an aura of desperation.

As Laura's merchant oversaw the loading of rare spices and goods that would fetch a good price when safely brought to port in the North, the bard grew near, keeping well to the shadows. A corner of his gilded harp peaked out from its leather wrappings on his back, a tell-tale clue that this wanderer had seen better days. The Merchant's eyes narrowed thinking, "Surely there is a tale behind this odd one".

"Are you the Master of this ship? Will you be returning to Laura?" the Minstrel called out from his place among the crates.

"Ai" Fuzsea nodded, his face an ureadable mask as he eyed his girl sternly about her task of recording the loaded goods. He had taken to personally seeing that the cargo was recorded correctly, with none of her suspicious "mistakes".

"What price passage on this ship?"

"Five gold tarns. Tis a perilous journey and looking at your scrawny bones and hands unaccustomed to a man's work, I don't expect you could lend much work to pay your passage."'

The bard pulled out a thin purse and showed the Merchant the small collection of copper and scant silver within. "This is all I have and I must get to Laura!" The Merchant laughed and gave him a shove, "Then lad you must earn more coin or sprout wings and fly. Those coins are not enough for passage on a garbage barge, but thank you for the goodly laugh. It does my digestion good" and a healthy belch followed as the Merchant turned back to his task.

The Minstrel's shoulders fell. He gathered his cloak about him and he started back to the City. Pausing he looked back and saw the Merchant with his hand on his girl's collar, pulling her to her knees and snatching up her wax tablet angrily as he fingered the whip at his belt. This could be his chance to slip on the ship undetected. With haste and stealth he doubled back and secreted himself among the casts to be loaded.

****

It was several days out of port when the Minstrel was detected. Hauled to the Captain for judgement, the Merchant scowled and told his men to throw the impudent stowaway overboard despite the man's anguished pleas for mercy. As they tied him, one of the men said, "It's long nights and hard ones on the sea. Let him play for us before we cast him into the sea"

"Why should I play for you, you filthy villains?" cried the Wanderer. "You'll be killing me anyway".

The crafty merchant pondered. A happy crew was a good investment. "I'll make you a bargain, then lad. If you please the crew tonight, you buy a day's journey and another day of life."

Begrudgingly the man drew forth the harp and began to tune its strings as word spread and the men and scant passengers came up to gather on the deck in the moonlight. Once the hands struck the strings a change came over the musician as a magical light seemed to come to his face and his eyes wandered to a land unknown. So were the listeners transported by the sounds of the gilded harp and the tales of wonder told in music. As heads began to nod in sleep, it was clear that the bard had more than won his day's reprieve.

And so the game continued nightly until the ship neared Laura. While taking on supplies and unloading goods onto the river boats for transport to Laura on the final leg of the journey, the Merchant sent word ahead. He was bringing a captive to the City of Laura for the entertainment of the Citizens. If he pleased them, his freedom and passage was paid and his crime was forgiven. If not the Merchant would keep him as a captive on the ship for the crew's pleasure.

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Join us for a Musical Roleplay!


BIO:
Mihangel (Angel) is proud to be one of the rare breed of harpist who happen to be male!

Living in Wales and working across the globe, he is an accomplished performer, who has played since he was five years old, plays both the Welsh lever and orchestral harp, he has worked hard to show the breadth of his instrument.

Playing a fairly wide repetoire - from traditional Welsh folk music, pure classical pieces by Debussy et al to the more complicated works to Karl Davies and Salzedo, Angel has performed in many of the worlds larger venues - Millenium Centre,Cardiff; Royal Albert Hall, London; Sydney Opera House, Sydney to name but a few.

He is one of the most accomplished classical musicians performing in Second Life and is obviously a lot of fun and a very good sport.

(This concert is brought to Laura through collaboration with the MUSIC ISLAND CONCERT SERIES. http://musicisland.ning.com.)

The Master Returns

The dark ship grows larger on the horizon until the flag is unmistakable.... the Master is returning! Kate scurries the the kitchen to fetch some cool fruit, cheese and wine on a platter and scurries to the dock, clutching up a fragrant blossom on her way.

She moves to the dock with the platter balanced on her head, the best way to steady her burden over uneven ground. Her body is tanned and mostly bare, her breasts swinging naked and free and but a sheer swath of silk around her hips. She is kajira and will go to her Master clothed in the way that pleases the sight of a true man and not with the frippery that pleases the sight of women in their competition with each other. She has to only please one set of eyes.

As she arrives at the docks, boys are already unloading crates of goods, bolts of silks. She backs out of the way and kneels gracefully with the tray of goods poised on her head, ready for the Master's delectation. Her back arched, her breasts raised naked and inviting, there is much more that awaits the Master's delectation. From the ship she hears the sound of her Master calling orders and one time a hearty laugh that lifts her spirits with the sound of its sunshine, and the resonant commanding tone of his voice works the magic on her that it has always done. She trembles slightly with her desire for his touch, with the evoking of the submissive response that he has so carefully conditioned in her through months of training... until now she is a fully trained graceful and obedient love slave, responsive to his every breath, gesture and mood.

The last cargo to be unloaded is a small brace of naked girls, newly captured by the look of their muddy state and graceless posture as they are tugged along to the holding cells under the palace. Kate barely notices them as they are beneath notice as untrained almost valueless property. By contrast kate has value through the training her Master has invested in her, teaching her to respond immediately and intuitively. She is a jewel beyond price, shaped and honed to her Master's desire but with the beating heart of a woman within and the flaming passion of imprisoned desires and even fury visible within the beautiful shaping and control of her Master's will. Each sparkling facet of her nature has been carefully polished by his craft and knowledge of the nature of women and this one in particular. It is so easy to shatter the jewel along its fault lines so that it falls into dust and blows away in the wind as though it had never existed. Yet a jewel without faults yeilds no entry for the carving, no surprises and no sparkle.

At last her Master steps forward to walk down onto the island, his Homestone awaiting. The sun warms kate's body and a single bead of perspiration traces it's way sinuously down her tanned nearly naked form. She wills her arms not to tremble as she holds her offering of cooling fruit and water aloft, bowed head waiting to be noticed.



It is then that she notices a leash in her Master's hand and the tinkle of of slave bells as a silk-clothed pretty follows her Master from the ship and sinks into a sultry nadu at his heels. Stabbed through the heart at the site of the girl, kate momentarily looses her composure. Her love of her Master causes her pangs of grief and worry that this one may have taken her place in his heart and that she may be sent away. The momentary thoughts cause her to delay in seeing her Master's hand signal to her to come. One of her accomplishments as a slave is that she instantly responds to the mereist signal from her Master... a look to his glass, a pointed finger to his boots, or a gesture that he wishes her to pleasure him with her mouth has brought instant and exquisite obedience for sometime. So he notes her hesitation with annoyance, "Have you forgotten your training, kate? Come quickly!!"



kate hurries to her Master's boots, chastened by the stern tone in his voice. That tone when she hears it reminds her physically of the times that she has heard that voice tone while learning under the Master's lash... and it reminds her of the times that exhausted and punished to near the level of breaking her Master has taken her in passion teaching her that submission is exquisite joy while rebellion is painful. So now at his words she hurries forward as though lashed and her cleft becomes moist and soft in feminine submission aching with anticipation of the Master's rod, ready to serve his pleasure as she has been well-conditioned to do over the past year.



Bringing the tray forward, the Master grunts as he selects some fruit and washes it down with cool water. He tosses some fruit to the girl on his leash and signals her to take the tray from kate. By this time the boys are returning from their unpacking back to the ship. Meeting the Master before he has gone but a few steps, the Master bids them, "Boys take this girl also to the kennels. Secure her separately. It seems she is in need of some re-training." Stepping back towards kate, the Master pulls her to her feet, tears the clothing off her and with one boot, sends her in the direction of the boys. Naked she follows, head down. One boy thinks to rope her but the other shakes his head at him. They recognize that a trained love slave will not need a rope to follow her Master's bidding.



Heartsick and alone the girl sits in the cell with tear stained cheeks. She can hear the sounds of laughter and music in the castle above and knows that the girl in green silks with red hair is even now pleasing her Master with her dance.



Much later she hears the sound of the Master opening the lock of her cell. She recognizes the hunger of the male in the throes of sexual need and waits to be ordered to please him. Before she can think, he lifts her on top of a horse made for discipline, parts her legs and with one thrust enters her to the hilt, pounding her with urgent need and desire. Asking her who owns her, she screams "You do Master, this one is yours" over and over at his urging. It is his pleasure to hear this from the girl that is owned.



Spent he draws her to her laughing, "Oh I have missed my girl, kate".



She answers, "I have missed my Master daily"



"Do you know why you are here?" the Master asks



"No, Master. The girl was slow to see you summon her with the tray. The girl knows that you have many pretties to choose from always. I am always the Master's to do with as he chooses, even...." and the tears flowed... "even to sell this one and send her away."



"Nay, kate. You are the jewel in my crown. The perfect sheath for my sword. I would not send you from me. But know that the love slave must exist in the deepest slavery of all and for the training of other girls, they must know that my self-Mastery is in tact. Even you could not love me as you do if you saw that you could control me by the love I have for you. I could not keep you if I were not your Master and so dear girl you must suffer more for the love that you hold and the love that I give you."



"Master, I do love you. This girl understands. May this one ask a question?"



The Master nodded his assent and his sat down beside the girl stroking her hair from her face and smiling his pleasure at her loving regard.



"Will the girl in green be staying on your chain, Master?"



"We shall see. For a time perhaps. She is the only one of the lot that I am carrying on the ship that might bring a good price if trained. The others will go for pot and kettle girls or paga sluts. I think I will send her into the cell near you for a few days. I plan to keep you here handy for my pleasure and let the other girls do what work is needed. The red-haired one can observe how you please and the words and gestures of your obedience. I would that you help me train her. "



With some small time spent in this converse, the Master seemed in need of some more of kate's expert attentions. Knowing that she was loved but also knowing that she needed to prove her skills, her obedience, her pleasing nature she focused on the fiery yearning centre within her, flaming up to meet the fire in her Master's eyes. Sinuously moving towards him on all fours like a graceful jungle cat her ears perked for his words, her nose sniffing the warm musk of his maleness and her active intelligence reading his face and body for every small hint of his desires. Her body was tuned to be responsive to his every whim. A smile spread across the Masters face as he regarded the body of his submissive slave crawling toward him, her round bottom raised for his plowing, her eyes veiled with love and desire for him. He sighed with pride at the majesty of this submissive animal, this perfect female of his creation. It had taken some work with the lash and some struggle but now he possessed a slave other men might envy and he would feel worth fighting for to ensure she stayed in his collar and for his pleasure alone.

A stubborn kajira is whipped

Someone who identified himself as a new and still learning Master emailed me and asked me to write more about whipping. I am obliging because frankly sometimes I wonder who is really reading. Many clicks, few comments.

Because of a conversation I had last night with a FW (wanting a collar badly :-)) and other indicators I had begun to think that my most devoted audience were women wanting my Master's steel and other women in my Master's universe whom he sent here to read "to understand him and Gor" (which I translate as meaning that he hopes they will get horney enough to beg his steel in future). What Master doesn't like options?

Hence it was good to hear from a male for a change! So this is an imagined, "Whipping scenario"

The girl cowers sobbing in the cell to which she has been sent. Has she done it this time? Has she been so disobedient and lazy, so displeasing that the Master will sell her, or even kill her? She does not know but she is very frightened. She shakes with animal terror and clutches her knees to her chest. Her eyes are streaked with tears, a red mark on one cheek where her Master slapped her hard before dragging her and locking her in the kennel. She starts as she hears the door leading down to the kennel opening and tries to burrow into the stone wall beside her in her desperation to flee the Master's punishment. The events of the past day fill her mind like flashes of vision and she cannot understand how she could have made so many mistakes, been so disobedient and then... on top of it to sauce her Master back, make ridiculous excuses, instead of apologizing and taking what punishment might come.

The Master's steps echo on the steps ... and the girl lives the moment in slow motion as her heart pounds many times for each footstep of her Master's approach. The door creaks open and clangs shut with an resonant tone bouncing off the stone walls of the several empty cells in the kennel. They are alone.

The Master stands in the cell motionless and fixes his gaze on the girl, "To my boots girl and be quick about it this time". The girl runs silently and assumes the obeisance of greeting at the Master's feet. "May this girl speak, Master?"... she stammers

"No you may NOT"... "you have said far too much girl and you will say nothing unless I order it until further notice. If you do not, you will be gagged. I do not want to gag you now because there are things that I hope to hear from you tonight"

"Yes, Master"

The Master quickly cuffs the girl sprawling... "what did I say?"

The girl starts to open her mouth... eyes widen... and she nods her head in silence knowing she spoke after being bid to silence.

"Stand girl"

The girl immediately struggles to her feet brushing back her hair from her tear streaked face. She looks furtively at the Master's eyes but can read nothing in his face which seems to be merely lost in businesslike thought.

"Well let me look at you" the Master says and with one hand undoes the gorean knot fastening the girl's camisk--the scant covering permitted most Gorean slaves unless dancing or serving at high tables. The garment falls to the girls feet leaving her totally naked in the night air. Every fibre of the girl's being wants to pick the cloth up to cover herself. Her arms want to cross in front of the breasts that are exposed with their nipples erect in the cold in front of the Master's cold assessing eyes. And assessing is what he begins to do in earnest. Tilting the girls head up he looks in her eyes, one finger caressing the line of her face. He cups her two breasts, weighing them like ripe melons and placing his face in the cleft of her breasts, he breathes the scent of her slave flesh in with sensual pleasure, exhaling an "ahhhhh" of delight tinged with regret. His exploration continues as he traces the lines of her body and reaches behind her to knead the globes of the proud bottom that used to bob along in tight jeans, inviting the leers of men but untouchably safe from their natural lust that she was inviting. Now her flesh was owned and not her own, naked to the man who bought her. A man whom she had barely come to know, who infuriated her, frightened her and yet also aroused passions she had never felt before. Passions she had been trying hard to deny and fight.

"It is a shame to mar such lovely flesh as yours with the whip" the Master sighed. The girl started to speak, but one finger of the Master's brought her up short to silence. The Master nodded as he saw her obedience, "Ah mine, that is a good sign, you are not stupid then, you CAN learn. Perhaps you are not totally untrainable as I feared. Nod your head if you wish to be trained rather than killed on the spot tonight."

The girl nodded her head vigourously. The Master smiled at her, not unkindly and with some amusement. The girl began to have a faint hope that she might not be punished afterall. A short lived hope as the Master took his coiled slave whip off the hook of his belt. "Ten lashes I shall give you tonight but I shall aim them well to not spoil you. A few dimples on a girl's ass is a pleasing site as it bounces along on her Master's duties or riding his cock, and a few stripes on a girl's back can increase her price as it is apparent she has not been spoiled." The Master walked around to the back of the girl and looked assessing where best to land his whip.

"Come here girl and give the whip your tenderest of kisses. Tell me, and you may speak now, do you know why you are going to kiss the whip with true love?"

The girl's face was troubled. Was this some test like the slave paces she was supposed to have memorized but did not know. She thought to make something up, guess, thought better of it and decided it was safer to be honest, "No Master" she shudders.

The Master laughed. "Well first and foremost, girl, it is your Master's and you will in time learn to look upon everything that is your Master's property with devotion, as is the proper attitude of the well-trained girl. But tonight there is a special reason for you to love this whip. It is your teacher and your salvation if you learn well enough under the tutelage of the whip. Now come and give your loving teacher the kiss of a devoted slave".

The Master held out the coiled whip at thigh level and the girl knelt humble, wide-eyed and frightened. The only thought in her head was "this can't be happening. He is going to whip me like an animal, like a slave, like the slave that I am". The iron collar felt hot like new-forged metal around her throat, and she found herself almost without volition, kissing the whip, looking up at her Master's eyes and seeing his pleasure in her actions, reading his eyes that she should kiss the whip longer and deeper, and then the merest blink of an eye that she should stop. He then gave her the hand signal to assume the position of the "Slaver's kiss", a variant of the obeisance gesture that a girl meets on greeting the Master (and in some households assumes whenever she enters a room with any free). In the normal obeisance gesture the girl kneels and bows her head to the floor, arms ahead palms down. The Slaver's kiss posture has the arms extended crossed for binding, the buttocks raised, exposing back, buttocks and thighs to the lash and the knees spread apart wide so that the girl may be also sexually examined, used and tested in this position.

As the girl assumes the position, she remembers to sweep her hair from her back, exposing her back fully to her Master's whip and covering her face so she is but dimly able to see her Master's boots as he bends to bind her wrists and ankles to slave rings secured to the floor.

In this position the Master first takes the whip and tenderly strokes the girl's body with it allowing her to feel the coiled leather and then the weight of it as it snakes limply across the exposed tender female flesh of her back and buttocks. As the Master kisses her body with his whip, he strokes her soothingly. Oddly, secured in this position and feeling her helplessness under the Master's whip, the girl begins to feel moisture between her legs and is aware of the Master's cock nearby. "Girl, it gives me no pleasure to have to use a whip on you, but this is how you, yourself have shown you, you must be trained. It is so with some girls who are strong as you are strong. I like your strength and your fire, but I will have that strength subject to my will or not have you at all. Some girls are Mastered the first time they feel their Master within them. They come to know the truth of what they are and they become his devoted slave with little fight. Others need only the threat of the lash to keep them in line. But other's like yourself doubt in their hearts that any man will truly Master them by force until they feel it for themselves. I hope that you may learn quickly for your sake, the condition of my property and because I would rather have you bucking obediently on my cock than in punishment under my lash. I remind you that you are commanded to silence unless I ask you to speak and that when I branded you was the only time that screams were permitted you. There is a reason for this. Screaming is not thoughtful. You will bear the lash in silence, listen, think and remember the teaching tonight. Each stroke you will bear as a reminder of a lesson learned."

The Master then examined her heat, pleased at the damp softness he found in the girl. She was having a submissive response. The receptivity of her cleft underscored her readiness to be taught her place. He tested the whip in the air as the girls buttocks twitched and she squirmed furiously (and deliciously) in her bonds. "Girl you will remember by these two kisses of my whip to hurry when you are called" and with an expert wrist flick the Master two times landed the final crack of the end of his whip smartly in the middle of one after the other globes of the girl's bottom creating two rose buds at the centre which began to quickly bloom with pink petals surrounding the red core where the whip had bitten deeply enough to dimple her ass for sometime to come, perhaps for life.

Until that moment the girl had thought that maybe this wouldn't happen, maybe it was a bad dream, but now her pert saucey bottom was flaming with pain and it was only two of ten promised lashes. She desperately wanted to beg for mercy but she knew it was too late.

"Girl tell me now, when you are called will you come quickly? Shout out your answer to me"

"Yes Master..... " and she heard then the sound of the whip being dragged along the ground preparatory to a lash, "the girl"...... and the lash came down full across her buttocks for a third lash... "will remember".... drag, snap, and thwack a fourth lash lower on the buttocks... stiffled sobs "to come IMMEDIATELY when called".

The Master bent and patted her well-striped bottom fondly and possessively. "I believe you will, Mine. Your voice has the ring of honesty to it".

The girl could then sense the Master going around to her side, once more he lets the weight of the whip snake over her back and he feels assessing like the experienced animal trainer he is the condition of her heat. She is responsive. The girl is in a confusion of emotions, she had never thought to be bound and helpless under a man's whip and yet she senses no anger or sadism in him. She knows that for him, this is simply how things are. Men are Masters and women must be pleasing to them... and she has not always been pleasing. How she longs for another chance now. She wonders if she will have that chance. As the Master probes the heat of his girl with practiced hand, her back arches instinctively as a she animal in heat arches to allow penetration by the male. "Good girl" the Master exclaims "this is how you respond to your Master" and standing up, he brings the weight of the whip down on her arched back, "with this lash remember to bow and arch your back under your Master's touch". Tell me girl, "how do you respond to your Master?" the whip was readied and poised to crack on the girls back with her answer to stamp it indelibly on her mind seared with the pain, "bend to his will and whim Master. I bow to his pleasure" the girl said as the second stripe bit into the flesh of her previously unbowed and unwilling back.

With that lash the girl internalized the message she was saying and arched her back more into the position of the submissive. The Master was pleased to see the vent of her opening convulsing in the spasms of the female in heat and knew it was time to associate the painful lessons with the pleasure that would be hers as his owned girl. Grabbing a handful of her lush dark hair, he arched her back further, "Girl what are you?" "Kajira, Master, a beast" "Who owns you?" "You do Master?" "And what may I do to you?" "Anything you wish Master"
"Yes girl, know this now in the heart of you" and with those words the Master drove his engorged member deep in her cleft, holding her striped reddened buttocks in his hands and driving her furiously. She had never been taken like this before and in her mind she tried to hide from the powerful sensations that were overtaking her. There was no escape, she was a female animal being mounted by a stronger male animal that had subdued her to his Mastery. Her body was responding whatever her mind might make of it. "Submit to me girl. I would have all of you or none of you. Yield." And with those words the Master whipped her two cracks on her flanks as he rode her and like a high-spirited race-horse the crop set her to the gallop with her Master firmly in the saddle. She had never been ridden like this before and she worked as though to buck the Master off but he controlled her expertly one firm hand on the reins of her hair, the occasion sharp tweak of a nipple, like the taste of a bit to a mount, and her new awareness of the whip that lay on her back. She felt him hammering at the door of her womb like she felt this man stripping away her last resistence to his Mastery. She was tremblingly helpless beneath him with her slave heart exposed now and yearning to release around his firmness. Just as she was to explode with pleasure.... he suddenly withdrew from her laughing...."this is not for you yet. But soon you will have opportunity to pleasure me, if you learn your lessons well". It was then that the girl remembered that there were two lashes left. Just as she had that thought, the whip snaked out and flicked her hard between her legs. "Attend to your Master's pleasure girl. Think about it, long to please him, and pleasure shall be yours. Displease him, and what shall happen?"... The girl answer, "Displease my Master and I shall be punished, or.... killed" "Good answer, and I know you shall remember who owns you now" as the Master once more expertly aimed the whip stinging into the folds of the girls heat, replacing her pleasure of a few minutes ago with a stinging pain. And it was with pain and pleasure that the girl felt the Master enter her again to finish what he had begun. As he urged her to a sobbing climax the mingled pain of her whipped pussy and the pleasure of her spasms around his spurting penis worked to start to bring about the changes in the girl that the Master had hoped for. She was still wild, only part tamed, but she was learning and responsive. It would not be necessary to break her entirely to gentle her to his will. A little wildness was pleasurable in a girl.

The Master untied the girl now and taking a basin and clean rags, he bathed her welts. After drying her, he took a soothing potion and rubbed it well and deeply into the inflamed flesh. The girl sighed under his cooling healing hands and as he rubbed the poultice between her legs, the Master laughed to see her respond to his rubbing as a kajira should. He hugged her then and said, "That's done with now girl. You are my own good girl. Wear your stripes proudly among the other girls as a badge of your high spirits. Your Master had to take a strong hand to you to bend you to his will and pleasure. Will I have to do so again?".... silence and unsureness from the girl... laughter from the Master... "You may speak girl, I forgot I ordered you to silence. That order is ended now"... "So will I have to take a whip to you again because of willful disobedience?" And the Master looked long and probingly into her deep eyes until she could hide her soul from him no longer. She melted under his gaze and his arms. "No Master, this girl will not disobey you again"... her cheeks flushed with embarassment at her past conduct and she looked with new shyness and wonder at him. There was much she didn't understand about her feelings but she knew that she was looking at her Master. As he drew her into a deep, thirsty kiss, the whip fell to the floor, unneeded.... at least for a time.

Why I love my Master

• Because I fit him somehow, and where I don't fit he stretches me and the stretching is growthful, sexy and sometimes fun
• Because I feel safe wrapped in his big arms
• Because I love the scent of him
• Because his beard tickles.... everywhere it wanders
• Because anytime I think of being lazy or less than I can be as a woman I feel his firm hand on my backside, swotting the silly and lazy thoughts out of me
• Because being owned is freedom to truly love as a woman
• Because he doesn't let me get away with anything and sees through my crap
• Because he is smarter and wiser than he knows
• Because he is a man with depth and complexity and many interests
• Because he has achieved so much self-Mastery and grows daily and his growth as a Master makes me strive more as his girl
• Because he continues to see the best in me and expect better from me yet--he is demanding
• Because he did not allow me to walk into Gor ill-prepared but insisted that I read and that I know the fundamentals
• Because I know that he is desired by many and I fully expect he will take his pleasure where he wills and yet ... I feel secure in his collar as long as I continue to serve as he bids
• Because the sight of him, the sound of his name, his footstep as he approaches makes my knees bend to a kneel
• Because the sound of his voice and the scent of him parts those knees in nadu
• Because pleasing him in the smallest way fulfils me, a "good girl" is enough to bring orgasm
  

Because I can't imagine ever running out of new reasons to love him, and lastly because I am owned, I am kajira and I am Mastered and so there is no choice.

The lessons learned from simmering

The simmering girl is chained at her Master's boots naked and in heat. He pats her head soothingly, seeing her need, but does not choose to use her that day. She flushes and squirms with her hands imprisoned above her, unable to pleasure herself, her face blushing pink with desire and embarassment at the obviousness of her desire. But her Master reassures her that there is nothing to be ashamed of and that he is very, very pleased to see her slave fires rise and the heat of her desire to serve him. It is simply his choice that she not serve him that way right now. Although it would be pleasant indeed, it is his decision that she learn what it is to feel intense desire and to be deprived of gratification.

Sometimes such training is accompanied by the Master signalling that the girl will be required to pleasure him with her mouth. There is nothing that is more effective in training a a pleasure slave... and more difficult for her... than to demand an expert, loving and thorough blowjob while the slave is in heat. The hot spurts of cum on her face will mix with her tears of disappointment and frustration.

On Earth women have the upper hand in sexual encounters, witholding and granting sexual favours. This works against them training themselves to be as responsive as possible to men and against their own sexual pleasure. Nature does not need women to enjoy sex, only to have sexual urges. The fact is that men become aroused much more readily than women. Women have scant opportunity to develop their capacity to become aroused on cue and are socialized to think that they do not need to develop that ability. Instead they believe that they can choose to have sex only on the few occasions when they become aroused. Therein lies the tension that will destroy many relationships and lead women astray and away from their own enjoyment. It is really a lie that earth women are told by society. In practice, most women find that to keep a relationship they will have to surrender control of when they are fucked, to rebel will drive their male partner away. But because they have this fiction of control in their minds, they respond to their partners with lukewarm, confused acquiscience rather than the passionate response a Gorean Master elicits with his strong hand and his aura of masculine dominance.

My Master is definitely not only the Master of this girl but the Master of himself, therefore he keeps the girl in a constant state of sexual simmering to assure her devotion and obedience.

In the first occasions of such training a kajira will sometimes become quite angry, threaten to run or voice inappropriate thoughts. She may protest that she has a "right" to be pleasured. Such rebellion must be dealt with as all rebellion is dealt with, summarily without much ado. Too severe punishments signal that the Master is insecure. A Master who is in full control will laugh at some rebellious thoughts from his girl, view others as crazy talk that must be silenced and response to others with the minimum and most efficient of corrective actions. A girl threatening to run will be caged or chained. A mouthy girl will be gagged, and so on. At no time does a Master argue with a slave.

A Master demands that his slave not only pleasure him as he wishes, when he wishes but to be fully responsive to his touch. He delights in playing the supple body of his girl as he would a fine instrument. He does not want a piece of dead wood under his hands, a puppet going through the motions but rather a creature of fire and passion, sexual energy singing in her blood under his skilled hands.

The slave learns to recondition her responses to her Master's pleasure rather than her own by being taken without permission but perhaps even more by being denied sexual gratification when she is desperate for it.

As she is forced to remain in a state of arousal without gratification for as long as the Master dictates, she thinks about her need for the Master's hands on her, the pleasure that it is to have his cock within her. The tables are totally turned on her earth expectations and she learns what it is to beg to be released from sexual tension. Only when the girl learns that she has no control over when her Master will choose to take his pleasure with her, does she begin to learn to respond instantly to the occasions when he chooses her as the instrument to serve his desires. It hardly needs to be said that a girl whose thoughts are often turned to how she might be found to be desirable by the Master, how she might arouse his desire and interest, is going to struggle to be obedient and pleasing in all things and struggle not to displease her Master in any detail.

Kajira, from a Master's perspective

I came across an excellent post from a Gorean Master today. I could not agree more with his description of the relationship between Master and slave, and as I read the words I thought that they could have been written by my Master as they were deeply in tune with his thoughts as I understand them.

(excerpted)

"If I were to be asked to describe a kajira in as few words as possible, asked to sum up the whole concept of a Gorean slave in two words, I would say: a treasure. To me, a slave is something to be valued, to be fussed over and adored, as well as to be served by. A kajira is property, is owned by her Master; once she wears his collar, she is his heart body and soul, which is why it is important that both Master and slave be sure of what they want before the collar clicks closed. . . ."

Great piece!

Kajira from a Master's Perspective.

Settling down a confused kajira

As I fussed a lot about my thoughts on what it meant to be punished without just cause, worried about my Master's distrust and felt that there might be a growing rift, I paced back and forth restlessly in my Master's house, trying this way and that to approach him, to restore what was. He grew increasingly irritated as he was trying to simply enjoy a meal in peace.

With a grunt, he thew aside the bone he was knawing on, shoved the table to the side and approached me swiftly. With one hand on my hair, he pushed me into the position of the submissive bitch on all fours, then reached and bent one arm painfully behind me.

He let go of my hair only long enough to unlace himself and pull up my camisk. Before I could think a coherent thought his maleness was deep inside me, painfully penetrating me in the absence of any advance preparation, moisture or heat.

He said little to me as he took me swiftly, but I gentled slowly under the relentless pounding of his cock. He furiously and passionately reminded me that I was his, that he found me desirable, and that he would have me when and how he pleased. He came into me with a yowl of the triumphant animal. Jumping up, he casually booted me over onto my back and collapsed into my arms where I covered him with the kisses and tears of the repented kajira that understands who her Master is.

Sometimes it is just that easy to restore what is true.

Maintaining the attitude of submission

Recently my Master joked with me that he would spank me but I would only enjoy it so he was not going to. It was a light-hearted moment but it led me to reflect on the fact that there are degrees of discipline that a Master gives a girl and to wonder if all discipline must consist only of a painful lesson to be of value.

This girl thinks not.

Just a few weeks ago the girl started to get into a topic that was forbidden her. A few sentences in and her Master signalled her to silence and to bend over. A very few head-clearing slaps were administered to her bared backside as she stammered her apology and realization that she had been disobedient. With each stroke of the bottom-warming paddle, her Master went over the explicit directions he had given and the general principle that these directions were framed in. It was IC and there were others within earshot of the punishment so it was slightly humiliating and slightly funny at the same time. The suddeness of the act made the the girl gasp and in an act that only took a few seconds her submission was renewed. And yes it was also arousing, but why?

There is nothing lonelier or more destructive than a woman imprisoned by her sense of pride. So often I have gotten myself locked into a position that I have taken on something, some extreme statement, ultimatum or rule. Later, it often seems silly but I have no way to back down. I have made a cage for myself.

Therefore these little displays of dominance from my Master keep me from ever becoming that rigid, prideful and lonely woman. He will always bend me, strip me of my pride and warm me with his will and his maleness. It is very difficult to act like a proud bossy female when my bottom is glowing and my face is blushing from having been given a recent come uppence. Even if it is partly in fun, the lesson is learned, the reminder is given. The girl remembers her place.

On Earth men are afraid to make their displeasure known because they fear that women will retreat into that frigid cage of pride and their words will not be listened to or remembered. When the totally submissive Gorean slave trembles under the Master's whip, the Master knows her attention is totally on him, the words of his displeasure will be listened to and remembered and the attitude of his girl will be.... sooner or later..... humility and willingness to learn to improve. It is a vehicle for honest communication instead of the silence of two tortured solitudes.

Is it any wonder that the relieved, forgiven, freshly whipped kajira is more desperately hungry for her Master than ever?

The Emotions of a Gorean Master

Gorean Masters are far from unfeeling Stoics. They live life to the fullest taking joy in life, love, food, sex, the thrill of battle, the love of homestone, appreciation for the beauty of nature.

Why is it then that the custom in SL Gor seems to be for Gorean Masters to not show emotion when their most cherished slaves are lost to them, or they fear might be lost? Masters devote a lot of time, thought, emotion and energy into the selection, collaring, and training of a kajira. It therefore seems natural to me that both IC and OOC, they would be distraught if a girl that they valued were to be lost, or another Master challenged them for a girl's ownership.

Gorean Masters weep openly when sad and then pick themselves up and do what needs to be done. This is strength. Weakness is being afraid to express true emotions. A girl should not confuse the fact that her Master weeps in contemplating her loss with an ability to "top from the bottom". He will weep but still do what he wills.

Hearing my Master cry with sadness at something I did was the worst thing in the world to me, and I pity those girls whose Masters do not openly share their emotions. Making my Master sad is worse than any beating or restriction. It is total failure in my job of giving my Master exquisite beauty, absolute obedience and ecstatic pleasure.

When the Master is sad

It is a rainy day when the Master is sad. Even if the Master says that it is nothing the girl has done and nothing she can do, still she is sad.

In her sadness, she must take care not to be a nuisance, not to press. The Master will tell her if she can serve. At times like this being provocative and sexually teasing may well just annoy the Master. Best to offer quiet service, beauty and loving comfort.

Today I bring a warm footbath with floated petals of flowers and soothing oils. While the Master sits disconsolately I wait for the merest nod and hand gesture to signal me to bend over into boot-jack position, taking one boot at a time between my legs, the Master pushes on my backside to remove his boots, sometimes sending the girl sprawling.

I take his feet one by one lovingly and gently and place them in the foot bath to soak before beginning to bath, massage and attend to each foot tenderly. I think about my love following him in every footfall, so that my service becomes erotically charged with submitting my all to this humble act.

Simply acts of body service for my Master are as sweet to this girl as pleasure in the furs and more comfort to the Master when he is feeling poorly.

That "Mastered" moment

As a slave I never know when it is going to happen, nor how, nor really why.... I only know as surely as the sun will rise that it will!

There will be a moment ... or several... in any interaction with my Master where his mastery of this girl will be felt suddenly and thoroughly through her being as surely as if she were chained to a post and being bosk-whipped.

It is the moment when I feel my own vulnerability and submission. It is often at a moment when I don't know what might happen next.

It might be like this:

The Master looks hard at me and says a reproving word and then smiles.

"What kind of a smile is it?" I wonder. His hard look makes me shiver. In an instant I feel gut-wrenching fear of abandonment and my stomach clenches, I feel that I may have earned a whipping and my tail tucks in with an instinctual motion that tilts the pelvis and tightens the labia as though to repel a rape but actually squeezes the clit causing a spasm of sexual excitement coursing through the girl to reduce her to the state of a trembling leaf. I know that my only hope is to please him ... I need to please him... there is dampness in my heat. My nipples harden under the sheer fabric of my camisk and I look up at him with a look of total female submission to his will.

The triumphant Master looks down at me trembling at his boots... depending on his mood... satisfied to see his affect on me but with purposeful regard to impress his Mastery more upon the girl, approval and amusement to see that I have responded totally to him, or with playfulness and a wish to be pleasured by the girl who is quivering at his boots. And ready to pleasure him I will be ... the intensity is there because he has--once again--found my slave heart and made it skip a beat.

A tone of voice, a gesture, a phrase, a sudden unexpected tug of the leash, a dispassionate instruction, a hand gesture into a position..... who knows what Masterly surprise will trigger the slave's sudden convulsive tug to obedience. But triggered it will be.

Dreamer and dream

Dreamwalker you prowled like a panther in the land of slumber
Capturing mirrored light of meteor showers in your golden eyes
It was the time of late summer restless stirring in my dreams,
Falling falling through the nightsky and into your dreamscape

You held out your bright globe of captured dreams like a beacon
Catching the essence of my falling star above the ocean of oblivion
You peered with curiousity at the galaxy of soul dust swirling within
Gently you cupped a hand upon the globe and warmed the life within

Lucid dreamer with a captive dream, you shaped me
A dreaming soul birthed to a body of pure light
Constrained by iron and learning the steel of your will
I am your dream and grow into the shape of your imagining

More than one on a chain

Further thoughts on jealousy, chain sisters, mastery of more than one:

Every individual that is involved in roleplay in the Gor, I believe has to ask themselves why they are there. Are they there to examine the truths of their real selves? Then they want to roleplay in a context that to some extent resonates with their own deep truths and who they are. Or are they are they amused by playing a role in the context of the often inconsistent rules of a manufactured society? In that case they will enjoy trying on many different roles and the more preposterous the situation, the more fun for them.

Knowing why you are here will determine how seriously you take it all and to what extent you are prepared to accept things that run counter to inner truths.

Like others, I am attracted to Gor because some of what Norman writes about the submissive nature of women speaks deeply to my erotic imagination and rings true about the way in which I am attracted to men.... or not. I crave Mastery in order to open fully and sexually to a man. I won't settle for less. In fact I demand it by being a very, very strong woman that will break any man that doesn't keep me on a short leash. In many ways I am an alpha female and I seek the alpha male. I can explore this role in Gor or elsewhere. The relationship comes first, the roleplay is a very distant second for me.

Men understand the deep biological competitiveness that they feel over the possession and dominance of women. Sometimes they fail to see and understand that women -- who can have much fewer off-spring than men--are even more biologically driven to compete. Let's realistically understand that there is a deep biological urge to have the sperm of the strongest and the brightest to father one's own children. This is not an impulse that is conducive to women lovingly and easily sharing a Master's penis. Human children take a long time to grow up. Women want the strong warrior and mighty hunter to only have to protect and feed THEIR children.

BUT you say... Gorean slaves don't have children, and ... further... this is "just" Second Life. True but submission itself is recognized by Norman and broadly in Gorean thought as coming a deep biological need relating to the genetic imperative of women. We know that the excitement of submission, the thrill of Mastering a quivering, responsive female fuels the sexual tension of Gorean roleplay... despite the premise of slave infertility. We enjoy the way the roleplay taps into that sensual energy. I think it is only commonsense to understand that the same roleplay will also trigger the territorial and competitive programming in all of us.

If you are not deeply engaged at an emotional and physical level in experiencing all the joys and pain of the Master/slave relationship then I truly fail to understand the appeal of the roleplay... but certainly if it is just a game to you then sharing a chain will not be hard for you. For the rest of us, it will likely be extremely difficult.

Am I saying that it is impossible to Master more than one? No. I am saying that it won't be easy, and it is a different sort of relationship and challenge than the Mastery of one love-slave. In the books, Norman did not suggest that kajira loved each other as "sisters". Quite the opposite, he acknowledged the bitter rivalry among slaves. Certainly friendships between slaves are possible. Friendships among women everywhere flourish and are deep and nourishing. But just as sexual competition among men threatens friendships, so does it with women.

You say, "But slaves are not allowed jealousy. They are not allowed an ego."..... I fall over laughing in the grass and kicking my little feet in the air. Slaves may not be allowed to EXPRESS jealousy, or hurt, or pain, or suffering, or... any other emotion the Master forbids them to speak of... but slaves are vibrant, complete, loving women in collars with all the emotions of human beings, which is the thing that makes having one on her knees at your boots so very, very delicious.

One time I sent a communication to a woman of my Master's acquaintance--an ooc note regarding an ooc relationship--and my Master was very angry with me. His response was to order me to exist in the bracelets position and to forbid me to speak to any female of his acquaintance without permission. Whether IC responses and restrictions are appropriate for situations that are totally ooc is a subject for another post (I don't think they are) ... and yet I feel the wisdom and appropriateness of my Master's response. Why? There would be only one way for him to have peace under his roof if he were to bring another girl onto his chain. He would have to chain me to keep me from killing her and forbid me to speak to her so that the vitriol I would throw in her direction--out of his earshot-- wouldn't have his new girl in tears by nightfall. And so he would have to begin to enforce his will on me with deep restrictions to counter deep impulses.

It is the Master's decision to have as many kajira on his chain as he wishes and it is the Master's decision as to what roles and duties the girls have and who will be his first girl and to punish that which is displeasing to him. I love my Master dearly and so if he were to bring another onto his chain I would do as he asked me and hide my pain as best I could as a fallible person. But I would be stabbed through the heart inside and seething with hatred for my rival. I would see that the Master didn't care about that and I would... in time probably stop loving him. And I concede that might not matter a whit to a Master.

I read posts all the time, and hear stories from Masters who bemoan the "ooc drama" that happens between the two...or three... or more... girls on their chains. "Why can't everyone just get along?"... and I have to laugh at the naiviety of that statement. It isn't the kajira's job to "get along" with the girls you have on your chain, it is your job as Master... who has created this tense situation to enforce your will on the girls. You have chosen to have a nest of seethingly jealous females fighting over access to your cock. That is the bed you have made, Master... go lie in it. Go and chain those girls, put them in separate cages. Do what you must, but don't expect them to be the solution to your dilemma. Let them know that any who displease you will be killed. You'll get peace and obedience. Love? Well you've made a choice that love is not going to rule you. Don't let it.

And so I think it is a choice for the Master of what sort of Master he is and what kind of work he wants to put into his Mastery. Mastery of one is difficult, but given the submission of the heart of the girl, he will find it always pleasing to bring out the girl's slave nature to love and serve him. To Master more than one is a different challenge and the Master must not expect a bevy of happy, loving girls who will love each other and serve him happily to arise by magic. That is an outcome of a long and difficult task of Mastery. He will be fighting their competitive natures, have to give much thought to both discipline and control through his power to make each girl love him enough to put up with her sisters. He will lose some who will run away or suicide rather than share.

At this point in time, I rather think my Master would lose me--physically and emotionally-- were I to find another on the chain with me, but his Mastery has surprised me before now in taking me places I did not think I could go. I am kajira and know that it is my Master's choice to make. I have no illusions that I have any influence over his decision beyond the power of any slave has.... to please him so very, very, very well with beauty, exquisite obedience and sensual delights, that he would ... at least for a moment regret my loss. He has chosen to collar an alpha female and is not fool enough not to know that any girl he would bring into my reach would be in danger of being clawed to death. He enjoys the ferocity of my love for him and is well-satisfied with having brought a proud alpha female to kneel at his boots. He also knows how deeply I love my collar and his power over me. He is Master and will decide.

The Jewel within the Slave

One of the most valuable lessons of slavery is learning that one's value is not dependent upon power.

In my real life I went through a period in which because I lost a particular job, I totally lost my sense of self-worth and identity for a time. I felt like a piece of discarded trash as my identity was so wrapped up in the status and power of a leadership role I had in my work.

But a slave has no power, no possessions, almost no ability to make decisions for herself. She is owned, her Master's property, to be used, sold, punished even killed as he wills it.

Yet her Master values her.

The danger in this is that the girl will become so dependent upon her Master's approval that she becomes a clingy bootwarmer. SL Gor seems full of whiney dependent slaves and that clingy dependence does not endear most girls to their Masters.

Most Masters want a bit of a challenge, a girl that they have to wrestle to her knees and who amuses them with displays of wit, intelligence and sauce.

Within each slave there is a beautiful female jewel that starts out dull and uncut. The Master will shape it to his pleasing but it is the girl who polishes and makes it shine for the Master's pleasure. As the girl sees this jewel take shape, her feminine beauty, grace, her ability to pleasure a Master, her unselfish female submission to the wishes of the male, the skills she develops to please her Master.... cooking and serving the food that pleases, keeping his home as he wills, crafting things that he desires her to make, dancing for him, singing or playing music for him.... whatever he bids her do... she knows deep in herself that she is a beautiful slave, she is a jewel beyond price. Her Master MAY value her.... or he may sell her.... or cast her aside. While she might miss him, it does nothing to her sense of her value. The jewel is still inside and she thanks her Master for cutting it in such a beautiful shape. She will treasure the slave jewel within and it will shine out of her eyes, captivating all men with the sexuality of the truly submissive female.

Can a Master rape a slave?

My Master and I have spent some time talking and thinking about this issue because it is deeply offensive to him to think about forcing himself sexually on anyone.

BUT... and this is a huge BUT... the Master/slave relationship cannot entertain any of the "safe words" that are the hallmark of BDSM relationships. A slave needs to feel that her submission is complete. The slave cannot "top from the bottom" as happens in BDSM. Therefore I have told my Master that I submit myself totally to his pleasure, his use and his discipline and therefore nothing he does can be construed as rape in my thinking.

If at somepoint the person behind the character becomes consistently very unhappy within her collar, she can beg release and the Master is not one to enjoy an unhappy slave so I expect he would release me.

However while I wear his collar I cannot function as a slave and ever have any idea that I can say "no" to him about anything ever. There are some issues that are stretching my ability to submit and the Master is taking those items slowly as he doesn't want me to breakdown. I will write more about that in another post.

But one area that I am very confident about is that I do not want to ever be able to withold sex because I am angry or sad about something. I think that placing that restriction on Mastery, robs a Master of one of the most effective tools in his repertoire and really makes Mastery harsher. When a girl is being recalcitrant, disobedient or hysterical often times she really needs to be fucked to remind her that she is the Master's slave, she is female and she is owned. But while she is in a bad mood, she is unlikely to be simmering obediently and worshipfully before his cock. Instead she is standing with hands on hips with her proud little bottom waggiling enticingly but rebelliously as she attempts to make some point about what she wants or is angry about.

This is when a Master will admister a rapid head-clearing spanking and a therapeutic dose of his rod to beat down the doors that his girl is throwing up against his Mastery. It is amazing how difficult it is for a woman to stand on her "principles" or "stick to her guns"... when in fact her legs are apart and her Master is firmly enthroned in her pussy, rummaging her with delicious enjoyment.

There is nothing that makes me angrier than having my arguments responded to with my Master's cock up my business end. There is nothing that I can say back to that argument. And as I buck and twist away from him and he stays firmly in the saddle, it is infuriating to see how much he enjoys my little shows of protest, the fight I give him as he pulls me open to use me.

It is the job of a slave to be sexually used and therefore a kajira cannot elect to shirk her job. The reason that nether shielding is denied a slave is so that the Master's access is never impeded and the slave feels deeply in her womb that the Master's cock is king in this chamber.

The Master's calm and matter-of-fact claiming of what is his in these little spats of disobedience go a long way to teaching a girl her place and educating her to the new realities of her situation within the M/s relationship. Each thrust of the Master's cock is harder and harder for the girl to ignore, shut out of her mind. She can hate the feeling of him inside her for a little while, but sooner or later, her body betrays her. She is pinned under the strength and weight of her Master and he is dominating her in the way she has dreamed of being dominated. Her womb bobs up and down jumping within her belly on the end of his battering ram within her stronghold, beating down the doors of any resistence. She cannot deny for long how arousing it is that he does not need her permission to pound her and her enjoyment is entirely optional. She is welcome to be a participant and enjoy the ride if she wishes, or to stay furious if she chooses, but ridden she will be and she will feel the warm rush of his tide of pleasure within her whether she chooses to milk him with her joyous spasms or not.

A girl will often open more fully and submit more deeply after having been taken while she is angry and resistant. The fact that she is unable to resist the Master and has not herself engaged in any erotic imagination, can lead to surprising openness to the new experience and to her Master's stroke and images. Absolved of responsibility for instigation of the sex, she can discover a new level of abandonment to erotic pleasure. He will leave her flushed and speechless as her anger and outrage is turned to an orgasmic explosion as she realizes how fully the Master's cock dominates her femininity and how helpless she is to do anything other than receive the thorough screwing she is being given. Gasping she falls into his arms, legs trembling and all rebellious thoughts evaporated.

This totally happy outcome is quite common in the M/s dynamic... because she is his slave and has submitted. But in some cases, immediate resolution will not be achieved. The girl may go away angry after being used, but she has still been taught the lesson that she will be used how, when and it what way the Master chooses. It is not for her to choose. Given time, she will not try to withold sexual pleasure as a way to manipulate the Master. Instead she will use more honest communication, bringing her thoughts, fears, worries and laying them at her Master's feet openly and asking for his judgement.

In our relationship, we have not used any of the devices that are available in SL that restrain an avatar in a position to be sexually used but I can see why such a device would be effective. Probably just being put in such a device and contemplating the thought of being used while restrained would go a long way to making a girl understand how pointless acts of rebellion are when one is collared.

Sexual witholding is one of the most powerful (and hurtful) tools in the repertoire of earth women as they seek within the mixed up world of male/female relationships on earth to control men who should be their Masters. It must not be a tool that is allowed to a slave.

Training a girl to wait

My Master used a maddeningly effective training visualization exercise to train me to both stay sexually tuned but to wait on his command.

He brought me to a peak of arousal with his words and then he commanded me to open my legs for him. Parting my petals, he thrust what he described as a large but fragile glass dildo in my pussy. He then put my iron belt on to hold it in place.... and went off to do other stuff humming a little tune. I was to stay in place and describe the feelings, the contour of the dildo inside me. However I could not make the slightest contraction of my pussy or the glass could shatter inside me causing pain and damage.

I felt the smooth curved contour of my Master's toy holding me open, filling me, holding his place like a bookmark. The sensation of penetration made me want to contract desperately but I knew I could not. Over the time that I was left like this (30 to 60 minutes) I went from curiousity, to annoyance, to intense arrousal, and finally to that state of perfect submission and openess. I was open and ready for my Master, but I had learned obedience and control of my feminine muscles.

From that point on, he could ask me to halt and stay in the middle of his sexual use of me and I was able to obey and adopt the mental and sexual attitude of readiness and openess, awaiting his lead always.

Initially I didn't understand what the Master was trying to achieve with this training and maybe it was important that I figure it out by myself. But it certainly led me to a different attitude and dynamic within the cybersex. I had been very much feeling that I had to instigate, contribute all the time. This trained me to receptivity.

Mastering Yourself

It is often stated that before a Master can master anyone, he must first master himself. I find that most Masters have heard this and will nod their heads at the wisdom contained in that sentiment. However, I don't think all have actually understood why this is so and what it means in practice.

If you want to have a slave who will make you proud, please you and bring you quivering obedience, you indeed need to be Master of your own desires, fears and emotions.

You must be in control of your fears because if you often betray fear losing your slave, you cannot Master her.

You must be in control of your lust because she must be kept in heat and begging your cock in order for you to Master her, and through your masterful control during furring you must be able to--when YOU choose-- give her such prolonged and satisfying pleasure that she will know that she can never replace what you give her.

You must be in control of your heart because if your slave can control you with her tears and fears, you will cease to be the Master and she really will not thank you for that.

You must be in control of your anger because discipline of your slave must be methodical and fitting or you will risk breaking her or losing her.

You must have a plan of what you hope to achieve with your slave today, tomorrow, ultimately, and work to that plan incrementally and relentlessly. Your plan may change over time but it will be a conscious plan that you lay out and master.

And lastly you must be enough a Master of yourself to occasionally show your fears, your heart, your lust, your doubts, that she may know that they exist, and then show her that you are master of all of what you feel. No slave will give her soul and heart to a machine so she must know the man that you have Mastered.

And you thought it was all fun and furring!

Fun within an M/s relationship

The photo above is of my Master trying out a new swimming HUD. I am surfacing from below and caught him reflected in the waves... Yes he did eventually take his stuff off...sorry girls I didn't take any snaps.

One of the payoffs of the mature, secure M/s relationship is the ability to relax and have fun together sometimes. For the dominant man, it is often a worry to appear undignified, silly, goofy and just play with a girl. He fears losing respect and control. However, when that respect is absolute, his power and Mastery over her is as complete as possible, that fear ceases to exist.

He tells his girl he feels in a playful mood and she claps her hands in delight at the prospect of a light-hearted day. They can play together like innocent children, free of any need to posture in front of each other because all of that pretense has nothing to do with them. He knows he is in control and so does she. And so the play is free, satisfying, and completely fun!

Do slaves think of position?

In Laura there was/is a rule that city slaves greet members of the council each day with the full karta/obeisance gesture and it was recommended that all slaves greet their Master each day with this gesture. It is the very gesture of head down tail up that animals give to signal submission. I find I like this habit to remind me of my submission. While the Master might choose to dispense with it in future or on any particular occasion, it is a small gesture that helps maintain what is at the core of what I am to him.

I can tell you also that I feel more ready for punishment and more truly punished when the punishment is received in the submissive position--or I should say that only then does the punishment have a sexual dominance context to me.

The whipping cross or post may be tied in my mind with male slaves through movie imagery or something. Don't know. It is effective punishment, but it is less intimate, less male/female, than being punished bent over a knee or a chair, or bench like a child. It felt entirely correct for my Master to whip my alt severely to break her in... and she may need that again... I'm not sure. To me the whipping post or cross is for breaking slaves, initiating them and for serious crimes. It is not sexual in nature. It is a truly harsh punishment.

At other times the misdeamenours of slaves are like the failings of children, the Master flogs or spanks his girl not to break her spirit, but to reinforce his will, help her remember the lesson, and to keep her butt always remembering who her Master is in a way that will assure that she moves quickly and obediently and.... yes... smiles... also that she bobs smartly on his cock. There is really nothing like the feeling of the Master's balls bouncing on my recently warmed butt to excite me and I would imagine that there is nothing that says "mine" like having his balls slapping against the warm red heat of a bottom he has recently chastised.

I expect to be swatted often and really to never be without the marks of a recent hand slap or welts of a switching. They are proud witnesses of the sternness of the Master. I ame kept on the edge by the occcasional unpredictable outburst of the Master in which I get in trouble for nothing.

Thinking about position again...

I found it disturbing the first few times theMaster asked me to stand in his presence, (apart from dancing or serving him) . There is a reason why slaves are in nadu most of the time. There are times that it makes IC sense for me to be standing but I think it is very important that the Master to signal permission for that and that IC I would share how weird it feels... because it does!! When we were in the woods roleplaying hunting one time when my Master had a roleplay involving Panthers, he had to remind me to stand a couple of times and that was so very in character that muse would forget and sink into nadu naturally. Kneeling in the presence of her Master SHOULD be natural to her... and it is!

Another lesson from the natural world is about how the handling of animals gentles them. One clips the flight feathers of birds and handles them daily to gentle them. One cages a horse and lays hands on it often to gentle it, to teach it that the touch of the Master is unavoidable and proper.

And so it reinforces Mastery in my mind he touches me often. And when I am not in a mood receptive to Mastery, I am very jumpy about touch. Sometimes when we are having an ooc talk and he suddenly emotes something like, "he reaches out and strokes her thigh".... I will literally tense up in RL... because I am not in the submissive frame of mind...BUT... it is therefore important re-inforcement to do so. When I sense that reaction, I realize I have to school myself to be in a receptive and obedient frame of mind and body. If things seem a little off the rails in an ooc chat, nothing works better to get me back in the zone than taking one of my breasts in his hands (my nipples are like the remote controls for my clit), booting my knees further apart (love that gesture), or checking out the state of my heat with his hand. Reminding me that the Master will touch me how he wants, when he wants, reminds me of my place. The more often I feel his hands on me in every way, the more I feel owned. And there are occasions where it does us both good when he asserts his Mastery in this way when others are around. I am not embarassed, instead it is affirming.

My reflex position in RL when sitting across from a man is to cross my legs and shield my breasts in some way... folded arms...briefcase on lap... clipboard, notebook... I hide. So opening my legs in a way that consciously reveals my vagina to my Master and arching my back to display my breasts...having bared breasts or partially bared breasts makes me feel owned. I think I have to do more to talk that up in character to keep myself on the edge... and anything he does to remind me of my position of display, to insist that I must always be in a position of display, will help me maintain myself in a state of being ready to please/serve.

Master says, "good girl, open wide and say 'ahhhh'"

Enough serious talk!

I'd rather think about giving my Master pleasure and when I think of pleasuring him, one of the first thing that comes to this slave's mind is how I pleasure him on my knees with my mouth.

Nothing says Mastery more clearly than a summons to oral pleasure. The Master is at work, or in conversation. He has no time or interest in the furs, yet he just feels a certain itch that needs attention. Spying his girl handy, he snaps his fingers and gives her a signal that sends her scurrying to his service moistening her lips as she runs immediately to kneel at his feet.

I don't think that there is a more definitive act for the female slave than performing a blowjob and so it needs to be done well. Masters need to spend time insisting it be done well. Its usual posture is with the female on her knees and the male ascendant. So every man getting a blowjob is a Master for that time, and any woman giving a blowjob is acting as slave.

It excites the slave in the female that there is no reason for the male to be unclothed, or even to stop doing what he might be doing, reading, writing, conversing, eating, for him to be sexually serviced by a woman's mouth. Any woman who feels that sex is an equal affair is disabused of this idea after spending some time on her knees servicing the cock of a Master who pays her no more attention than if she were shining his shoes. It is a good attitude adjuster.

I would suggest to any Master burdened with a princess kajira who expects a lot of effort from him in the furs that he demand long and thorough servicing from the girl in this fashion while he remains engrossed in other more important matters.

The male organ is symbolic of male power, so when the woman kneels before the cock, she is kneeling to the man. When she takes the cock into her mouth, she is silenced. It is highly symbolic of the fact that she has no voice that is not ruled by her Master. Finally a woman is not pleasured herself by a blowjob. The space between her legs is neglected and relegated to unimportance. No wonder most Free Women and earth women don't like giving blowjobs. But the thought of giving my Master a blowjob makes this girl very eager to please as she is a natural slave and loves to please her Master.

It is the slave's job to bring the Master to erection, not his job to have an erection. The thought of my Master's cock at rest is always a delight to me in its possibilities or also in its satisfied rest with its slack weight heavy against me in what surely must be the most possessive of gestures of the male over the female.

In meeting the Master's cock at face level I usually playfully nuzzle him first, feeling his cock against my cheek, butting against my nose, sweeping my feathery hair teasingly across him, sniffing in his delicious musk with pleasure, before extending my tongue for the first taste. The smell and taste of the Master's cock is delicious to me and fills me with tender love as well as provoking the subservient response. Instinctively my back arches in expectation of being mounted when I sniff him... but such is not to be this time, so my tail end waggles in frustration, even primal indignant fury, while blowing him. The cute bobbing of my backside amuses the Master. But such is his control that I sublimate my desires and attend to him as commanded. Too much writhing about in attempted self-pleasure will merit a choking tug on my leash.

I would begin to arouse the Master first with gentle flicks of my tongue at the front of his tip, followed by tracing his manly length with my slowly lolling tongue. Depending upon position I would also use my tits, cradling his cock between them and shimmying my tits against his not yet erect cock for his pleasure, teasing him to erection. The only response I expect is the one in front of my nose and in my mouth.

When he is fully erect I show my love and devotion first by giving his member the sweetest and most thorough of kissing along it's length from the hilt to the tip... licking and kissing my way up to the tip to where I would now open my soft mouth to receive him, delicately and reverentially like a sacrament. Indeed nothing that enters a slaves mouth is more sacred to her than her Master's rod. She feels honoured to take his maleness on her humble slave lips.

The Master feels me maddeningly teasing him with my tongue as his rod first slides into my mouth. I am adept at flicking that sensitive spot at the front of and just below his tip, swirling my tongue around the fullness of his tip and extending my long tongue backwards down the length of his shaft and then curling it up. I make a game of trying to distract him from his work or conversation, .... but he is a Master.... and I am but his slave providing a menial body service that he commands and expects from time to time.

The Master typically controls my actions with a hand in my hair, a hand on my collar or a yank of my leash of course. I open my throat to be penetrated by the full length of his cock at his peasure, while stroking and fondling my Master's balls and the hilt of his rod. This penetration is not physically pleasurable, even causing discomfort, what is pleasurable is the sensation of being Mastered, forced to take his length in my mouth.

I have been known to use my mouth in ways that displease my Master. Therefore I spend a lot of time with his cock in my mouth, so I have had a lot of opportunity to reflect on these matters. It is his favorite method to shut me up. There is no sweeter gag for a girl who uses her tongue as a weapon but longs for a man strong enough to silence her. It is a training for such a one. When she thinks of shrewish speech, she will associate words with the denial of words through her Master's hard cock in her mouth. It will remind her of what she can say and can't say in a clearer association than any whip. Her mouth is for the Master's pleasure, so only sweet words can find space there. When I start to say words that my Master has found tiresome.... I taste him in my mouth... and remember who my Master is and what I have been taught.

Periodically the Master will crave more attention from my tongue and release his control of my head to allow me to explore his length at will with tongue flicks and kisses and firm sucking of his knob. I will cradle his balls like the treasures they are, finding that sensitive spot at the root, behind the balls that enhances pleasure when gentlely kneaded during orgasm, I make sure I have a finger well-positioned for that exquisite caress. Meanwhile between my own legs I would feel a passion mounting in vain as my empty, hungry pussy bobs up and down, moist and exposed but unimportant. Drats!! I will be left unsatisfied but I must use my arousal to fuel my devotion only. The wise Master keeps his girl simmering and hungry for him.

Just when I think I can not accommodate more in what is a very small rosebud of a mouth, the Master will grow in width and length signalling to me that he soon will deposit his load. I must be responsive to his desires, to swallow his semen quickly, deftly and without fuss, or to run my tongue along his length on his withdrawal if he choses to spray his slave's face and breasts with his wad. Whatever his choice I will feel his explosion with joy, despite no release for myself, taking care to caress his hilt or his legs and buttocks as permitted to show my love and appreciation for being allowed to serve him in this way. When the Master chooses to release on my face, the girl smiles radiantly and turns her face upwards and moves from side to side that she might wear her Master's showering blessing fully over her face, from forehead to cheeks to chin, all adorned with his precious pearls.

She will then lick the Master's cock clean, dry him delicately with her hair and re-do his lacings for him. She will await his hand signal to wave her away. If she has done well, she may warrant a pat on the head or even a brief smile to acknowledge her existence and that he was pleased. Dismissed she will scamper off with her Master's cum proudly worn like war paint. She will taste him for some time to come and she will long for his rod to pound her in the place of her longing.