The Master's Couch is his domain

The girl has been welcomed onto the Master's couch often lately and she had grown accustomed to the comfort there, coming to think of it as "their" bed and the place beside her Master as her rightful place.

One evening the Master made a point of chastising her for not following closely enough and so she was being very attentive at his boots, not letting him get further than a few yards before hurrying to his boots, while also staying out of his way, discerning whether she should be behind him or at his boots awaiting command.

In this mode of thinking, she made a mistake that the Master would have to discipline her for to break her from a bad habit of thinking. She followed him to his couch and as he flopped down in exhaustion, she crept into his arms unbidden. The Master gave a hearty laugh. "Comfortable are you my girl?"

"Oh yes, Master" said the bold girl as she snuggled into the Master's furs.

Suddenly she felt two fingers jammed between neck and collar and her face turned forcefully to gaze into the Master's burning eyes. She tried to look away but it was impossible. She was held fast and transfixed.

"Did I ask you into my furs, girl?"

"No, Master. The girl was only trying to follow as bidden".

"And where is your place to follow, girl?"

"At your boots, Master"

"I see girl that you know your place. Yet you have willfully ignored it. Is that true, girl?""

"No, Master. The girl did not mean to do so?"

"Which is it, girl? You either do not know your place, in which case I must give you a great deal of time under the whip to re-train you as you must be slipping badly. Or, you know your place but saucily chose to ignore it which means you must be punished for this transgression. Tell me which is the case? Because I see a kajira in my furs uninvited and I demand the explanation."

The girls face scrunched into a little ball of confusion and her eyes filled with tears. Try as she might she knew she had no option than to admit she was in the wrong.

Quietly she said, "I know my place Master. I forgot for a minute. The girl has grown too used to being in the Master's furs."

The Master's face softened a little at her humble manner and honest admission.

"Girl it is my fault also, as your Master. I do love to cuddle my little kajira bear in the furs. You are warm in the winter chill. But I see the error in my ways that you are losing discipline. You must remember your place, or others will teach you more harshly, should you be forgetful."

Still holding the girls collar, the Master roughly pushed her from his couch with one boot, swiftly with a practiced businesslike manner the Master tied the girls wrists to a slave ring at the foot of his couch, putting one foot on the small of her back, he raised her hindquarters in to the submissive pose, head down, hindquarters raised. Running his hands over the lines of her body, secured to the slave ring, he sighed with pleasure at her bearing.

"Ah girl, how it pleases your Master to have such a beautiful beast as you tied to the foot of my couch, perhaps I shall leave you like this nightly, what do you say girl?"

The girl's face was pushed to the furs, voice partially gagged and unhappy in her predicament, words did not come quickly.

The Master chuckling decides that his girl needs some focus for her submissive response and taking out his small slave whip and straddling her back striped her hindquarters swiftly with a few sharp cracks.

"What do you say girl? Do you like being at the foot of your Master's couch?"

"Yes, Master!!! Yes!" the girl exclaimed.

"Ah, that's better, mine. I am glad you like it as that is where you will stay, tonight".

And with that the Master heaved himself back into his sleeping furs, pulled his wrappings about him and chuckled softly a few times at the discomfiture of his girl who was learning a needed lesson on the cold floor, and would be all the sweeter in his arms in future nights. He missed her, but he was a Master and would do without her warmth so that his slave would not grow spoiled.

When he released her, he would be watching her manner carefully. He expected that she would be more exacting, careful and cautious. This one had spirit and so needed... and craved... frequent reminders of his power and the respect he demanded. She knew that she had two choices, give him what he demanded or take her chances when he grew tired of her... a new Master who might be worse, or death if she angered her Master too much. The Master knew she wanted to live and knew she wanted him as her Master, hungered for him, and so she would learn her lesson.

The couch was the Masters and he would share it when he willed, how he willed, and a girl should never presume that a place by his side was hers.

Penitence: "I'm sorry, Master"

Where does penitence begin?

The girl cannot begin to regret her actions until she knows in her heart that she has been in the wrong and that is very hard for us modern women to admit. We feel we have to be right all the time, we can't "let down our guard" for a minute in the competitive "dog eat dog" world we are forced out into, even when that is not our natures.

In the M/s relationship, the definition of what is "wrong" is simple. Anything that displeases the Master is wrong. Hopefully we have a wise, caring Master who is not arbitrary and unfair in his assessments of wrong-doing. But once a Master has made his desires known in a matter, if a girl fails to follow his instructions, or falls short in her duties to learn in the chosen manner, she should know that she has done wrong. Sometimes she fights this knowledge with self-justifications, excuses, or plain bullshit.

Punishment is needed at these tests in the M/s relationship for more than one reason. First it restores the balance before the relationship is ruined by the girl's harmful actions. Secondly, and I think most importantly it is an arena for dialogue as the punishment is roleplayed out. The thoughtful Master chooses a punishment that fits the crime and also provides the vehicle for the girl to consider what she has done and what she will do differently in future. The wise Master allows the girl some time alone before she learns if and how she is to be punished and the wise Master allows the girl some time to recover and readjust after the punishment so that she can resume her place at his boots with her new attitude happily in place. He should not let her come to him still sullen and resentful.

There are so many options for a Master to punish a girl and clever Masters think of new ones that are perfect for a particular girl. The worst punishment for a slave is to be deprived of her Master's presence and deprived of the privilege of pleasuring his body. That is like death to the slave. It is important for the Master who uses this punishment to let the girl know that she IS being punished, as this is easier for her to bear than the thought that she is no longer wanted.

Gagging a slave who has had displeasing words is a fitting punishment and it gives her silent time to reflect on her speech and think of new ways of speaking in a pleasing manner in future. Some Master's roleplay putting pepper or soap in the girl's mouth. I can imagine that this would form an image that would make one very attentive to the formation of words for sometime to come.

The hardest punishment for me was being ordered to crawl for a time, but I think it fit the crime. I had been sneaky like a snake so crawling was appropriate and I did learn from my time on my knees.

All of these solitary punishments presume that the girl understands and accepts what she has done wrong and ... the Master fully understands why he is angry. A lot of times there is unfocused anger and the slave is puzzled and confused, still filled with excuses for the behaviour. This is when I think it is best to take out the whip, or the switch, the paddle, or turn her over your knee, Masters, whichever works for you as a direct communication of your displeasure.

As the Master administers the strokes he is forced by the intensity of the roleplay to articulate his anger, his displeasure, his pain at the girl's behaviour. He draws out all the excuses from her until she runs out of them. She probably "hears" him for the first time. And he hears how she has been justifying this behaviour to herself and learns the nature of the flaw in the girl. One by one he shows her the error in her thinking and punishes each error as a stiff reminder to her that going down that road in her thinking will only wind her up where she is, on the Master's whipping post and feeling his angry scowl upon her. At some point in this interaction the moment of penitence comes to the girl. She realizes she has willfully disregarded the Master's instructions or otherwise offended. She knows she allowed herself to be tricked by her own wrong thinking and she is truly sorry for the first time. This is when she opens herself to be schooled by the Master in a better way of thinking and acting.

The moment of penitence is like a light being turned on in a dark room. All of a sudden what was dark and hidden is there in clear relief, uncomplicated by the murky shadows of excuses, and self-justifications. The Master's heart leaps with joy as he sees his girl turn this corner and he melts with tenderness for his misguided darling girl who can sometimes be so misled. In this moment the girl submits more deeply to her Master because he has opened up a dark chamber in her spirit and shown her the way out, if she will only take his hand and follow him out.

Tearfully she lifts her eyes to meet the smiling eyes of her Master. She marvels to see that she has been punished but is now forgiven. She feels unworthy but determined to try harder than ever to be the girl he believes she can be.

Ready and waiting for it

As the girl knelt in obeisance at her Master's boots, his eyes devoured every line of his owned beast with pleasure. With amusement he noted her bottom cheeks twitching in nervousness, the plump orbs showing no recent marks of chastisement. Indeed why should they? She was a good girl, pleasing to him in almost every way, working hard to pleasure him, to not offend. And that was exactly why he knew that his slave was twitching now under his gaze. He had not recently reminded her that she was owned and just how she was owned. As a good Master he needed to rectify that and soon, or she would despair and grow away from him.

Removing his belt and coiling it once across his hand, the Master gave the girl the intimacy of feeling a lash from the Master's own belt. Not to punish her but to reassure her that she was still owned, still his, still subject to his discipline. The delicious double sound of leather on soft slave flesh followed by leather snapping on leather from the doubled belt was a sensual sound to be savored. The Master's keen sense of smell sniffed the air as his girl immediately changed her scent subtlely to one of mingled fear, submission and arousal. Playfully, the Master draped the weight of his belt over the girls back, playfully slapping at her cheeks. Without being asked the girl tenderly and lingeringly kissed his belt and resumed her prostrate position for the Master's re-conditioning whipping.

Smiling at his girl's understanding and obedience, the Master systematically applied stinging strokes, raising first a lovely blush to the girl's derriere, making her ready to receive a few well chosen hard strokes, creating three or four well-spaced raised welts that would be a stinging reminder of him and her place for some days to come. At the first flinch and sign of a tear in the girl's eye, the Master stopped, replaced his belt and said, "You may go mine. That was just to remind you that you are owned and how you are owned. You have done no wrong. You please me greatly and I want you to continue to please me greatly. When I return later, you will show me how well you have learned to please"

And with that the Master pulled the girl to her feet and kissed her deeply and fully. With her submissive state newly aroused, the girl was on fire for the Master in that moment. Instead he spun her around laughing and slapped her on the site of her recent refresher course and shoved her towards the door.

"Later, mine."

And so the girl waits for the site of his returning ship, feeling owned, knowing who her Master is and longing to hear him moan with the pleasure she is going to give him. The cool breeze plays across the heat of her welts reminding her of times when the whipping wasn't just for conditioning but to break her from displeasing habits. That conditioning was now almost perfect as this morning's reminder had caused her slave heat to rise to boiling. There was nothing more important than the Master's pleasure and she yearned for his rod within her with deep throbbing desires that had been unleashed but not yet released.

Feeling unwanted and lonely is a hard test for a girl

Recently I came to my Master and I just seemed to irritate him and be in the way as his mind was on other things: building, preparing things for roleplay, etc. That's been happening a fair bit recently and I have in the past had a tendency to panic and cling and write desperate missives. All of which just makes him more irritated and exhausted with me. So what to do?

Well I neither want to push it, nor appear to go off in a snit. Not only would either action be pointless, my heart is not in it. Either he wants me or he doesn't and time will tell.

There are a few things I need to work on both for us and for other projects of mine, so my plan is just to focus on stuff I need to get done in both worlds, try to keep in a happy frame of mind and feel like I am giving him one of the biggest gifts that a kajira (who has nothing material) can give a Master--the gift of some space away from his girl.

It's a very hard thing for a loving girl to do.

The Master's voice

Silence is cold
but my Master's voice rolls over me like warm waves
rumbling rivulets swirl around me in the safe harbour of his sphere
I come to his arms and burrow into the roughness of a homespun cloak
and I am home

A kajira is a jewel

"You will open like a flower", I was told
under the gentle care of a lover's smiling sun
and his tender tilling of your garden
watering you with his loving
spreading your petals

I don't know when these flowers lived
with their gentle gardeners
I think it must have been in the Paleozoic,
Or was it the Mesozoic?
I know it was Before-me-a-zoic.

These days as the flowers bloom
they get covered fast by the weight of years
layers of civilization's crap in a crushing load
squeezes any hint of tenderness from their buds
humanity's shit heap, crushing any life

The unexpected twists of fate gather up some
And fold them in the pressure-cooker of metamorphosis
Carbon lumps they are fired in the furnace of stress and time
Hard diamonds of potential with the flower locked within

Sometimes a Master finds such a hardened lump
smiles and sees into its heart
Here is the cleft line that will free what is within
Strike too swiftly and all could be lost in dust
But strike just once and the beauty will start to be freed

A diamond without fault lines is useless for gem stones
The Master finds what he wants and carves away the rest
At last the lost and crushed flower blooms warmly in his hand
a jewel he has found and earned.

A Master knows when a kajira is paying attention

A Master sees his girl busy in the kitchen preparing food for his table and sees that her nipples revealed through her camisk are flaccid and relaxed. His brow furrows. He steps behind the girl and under her camisk, cupping one of her ripe melons in his hand and teasing the nipple to attention.

"Girl, are you thinking of your Master and how you are serving your Master with your work?"

"Yes, Master" the girl stammers.

The Master teases her nipple further and switches to give the other breast the same attention. With his other hand, he explores the girl's heat and the hard pear of her womb jumps in responsiveness.

"Do you need to feel the Master's rod between your legs girl, to remind you that you are owned?"

The girl's face flushes, her eyes hood and she moans, "this one longs to please the Master".

The Master laughs and gives her rump a swift hard slap, "You are serving me, girl by making me dinner. This is your pleasure, is it not, to serve?"

"Yes, Master" the girl says, a little disappointed.

"Then let me see the evidence of your delight in serving. I expect to see your face shining and the evidence of your pleasure in serving in your posture and the way your nipples rise as you think about your service. The evidence of your devotion in little things will make me want to plow your valley and fill you with my pleasure at your service. Understand girl?" and with a smart swot to her backside the Master sends the slave back to the hearth.

The female submissive responds instinctively to the presence of her Master with erect nipples. It is something that is hard to suppress or to falsify. Therefore the wise Master keeps his girls' breasts bared as much as possible or takes care to dress them in fabric that reveals the perky state of his slaves' buds. While attention may ebb and flow with concentration to work, a Master needs to attend to a girl who shows little responsiveness in his presence. Her submission and responsiveness is lagging and she needs to be brought to the edge again by whatever means his knowledge of her, skills and preferences as a Master dictates.