DEVIL IN THE DETAILS II

THE ART OF MASTERY

A MENTORING TRILOGY

VOLUME II

MASTERY REFINED: THE ISSUES & THE SKILLS

By

LT Morrison

ltmorrison.author@gmail.com
 Copyright

Copyright © 2011 LT Morrison

Cover photo © LT Morrison
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in any form without permission of the Author is prohibited.

KINDLE VERSION

Published in The United States of America

First Publishing Date: 2011
Paperback Version ISBN-10: 1463608284
Paperback Version ISBN-13: 978-1463608286
Dedicated To

Debbie & Kristi

 Inspiration

Absurdum est ut alios regat, qui seipsum regere nescit.

It is absurd that a man should rule others, who cannot rule himself.
 Author's Note
Throughout the Devil In The Details trilogy on the Art of Mastery, a genuine effort to
meet the criteria of good books, sustained my focus. Good books, present ideas that
create thought. That was the intent. The guiding principle was always to entertain,
inform, educate, poke some fun at ourselves, and add a little spice to stir creative
libidos.
That is just the style. The core purpose is an examination of the principles and
specifics of sustainable master-slave relationships. Making a power exchange
relationship work in the real world, in real lives, on real blocks, in real houses, with real
people, is the purpose.
The anecdotes, stories and characters contained are true. They happened.
Some slave’s names were changed, after threat of rebellion. The slaves got a little
full of themselves, feeling entitled to vote. Such utter nonsense. Quelling the rebellion
was fun!
LT Morrison
 Acknowledgements
Creating this project over a decade, inevitably involved many people. Proof reading,
encouragement, suggestions, and wisdom came from many corners, often unexpectedly.
Camaraderie of purpose binds. This project kept friendships vibrant, lost friends
renewed, and a shared sense of purpose among many. It is a remarkable by-product, and
one for which I am grateful.
I will not belabor the reader with the lengthy list of acknowledgements, when those
same folk are listed in Volume I of this trilogy. Their contributions were magnificent
though, so dearly needed, and appreciated.
 Introduction
This is the second Volume in a mentoring trilogy on The Art of Mastery.
The BDSM spectrum of activities, commitments and values is enormous. From
casual play, to top/bottom interaction, bedroom only submission, and Erotic Power
Exchange, there is a slice of the pie for everyone. This series however is specific in
focus. The BDSM niche described here, explores the master-slave relationship, TPE,
24/7, same roof, intended to endure. Nothing more.
The trilogy requires the reader have a basic understanding of BDSM. The issues and
skills detailed in this Volume, also require an understanding of the concepts of mastery,
slavery and power presented in Volume I.
Managing relationship issues, while maintaining a defined power exchange dynamic,
is the reality faced daily, by masters and slaves alike.
The First & Second Tenets of Mastery presented in Volume I are essentially what this
Volume addresses, focusing on building skills to expertly manage issues, without
reverting to learned vanilla behaviors.
Slaves expect leadership. They are entitled to it. That is why they offer submission.
This Volume provides masters specific lifestyle leadership skills, that when learned,
result in amazingly loyal slaves. Exploring the benefits of lifestyle specific skills is
where a master’s credibility takes shape. Managing these will define your mastery.
Volume III “Sustaining Structure & Training”, then brings it all together in a livable,
sustainable, relationship of peace and tranquility.
 Chapter I - Foundation Laid
A slave named “foundation” works. Good foundations are well laid. Making sure is
fun, constructive, and oh heck… necessary! It is not where this book is going though.
But, if you need a break to lay your foundation, please go right ahead. Learning mastery
can always wait for that!
Now then, welcome back.
The philosophies and responsibilities of mastery detailed in Volume I provide
understanding of the necessary core values for aspiring masters. Knowing mastery is
synonymous with responsibility, and flourishing in that realization, is pretty darn
important to any master and his slave. Knowing too, what makes slaves unique,
identifying her core needs and motivations, is another critical element in building
sustainable master/slave structure. Then detailed too, were the Three Powers.
Simplifying to the essential powers of Body, Behavior and Attitude, not only makes
understanding the lifestyle easy, but as you will see, provides the basis for developing
relevant punishments when necessary, among many other wonderful benefits.
You have a basic understanding of what makes you tick and how a slave thinks. The
floor plan is there to build a wonderful loving master-slave relationship. Yet, there are
necessary steps still to learn. The need for specificity in responsible slave ownership is
next. Addressing and managing issues that come up daily, will refine your mastery into
a healthy style. Understanding how issues affect your relationship is important to
developing the specific, reality based techniques to deal with them. Learning them is not
optional for a dedicated master; he in fact, wants that expertise.
In our vanilla world there are many daily issues facing all masters. Addressed here
are some, and still more exist in the real world. It would be rare, if at some point along
your journey, you did not run into every one of them. You have to understand them, and
as importantly, know how to cope. Your management of these issues is a critical
component of the mastery you weave.
Creativity and artistry earmark mastery. Control of another is not unlike traveling
from aspiring house painter to timeless artist, in the realm of a Van Gogh, or
Rembrandt. However, before creating art and becoming a renowned master, you need
tools. Not talent, it is too early for that. For now, it is just understanding of the issues
and technicalities of art, because regardless of what style you chose, there are basics
universal to the art world. Artists learn about perspective, depth, color and mediums.
These are their tools, without which they create only amateur art. Frustrated and
branded, only appreciated as unwilling, or unable to acquire the skills and tools to
succeed, they suffer, or leave. That applies to mastery as well. Great artists and
wonderful masters learn the basics first, then, apply their talent.
Before taking the paintbrush, understand mastery. Then, greatness is in your grasp.
 Chapter II - Conflict Resolution
Conflict resolution is the most important issue facing all couples, but particularly
those in a master-slave relationship. Since we do not live in utopia, each of us with
divergent needs, often unsynchronized, and as we are imperfect personalities, conflict
happens, to all couples. It is an unavoidable fact, so masters need to accept the reality
and lead. Leadership, in all cases, is in part, taking issues by the short ones, directly,
with purpose, then managing and controlling them. So it is with conflict resolution. It is
an art form to resolve issues and conflicts from within, while maintaining your structure.
That is exactly what you must do.
Look around at vanilla friends, parents, or siblings and listen closely when they are
arguing, or bickering. More often than occasionally, what you hear from the Bickersons,
is not an argument about the issue that started it, but who will solve it, who will be
responsible, and make the necessary decisions. They are control arguments. Not
surprisingly, they occur because the Bickersons have given little thought to division of
power, control, or techniques to solve problems when the issues are personal to their
relationship. Agreement to talk things through, calmly and rationally, like adults, in
hopes they always agree at some point, quickly devolves when impatience, mistrust, ego,
and power needs enter the picture.
Often heard, is the warm fuzzy cliché that love conquers all. Oh, how sweet that is.
It makes me want to cuddle my teddy bear.
However, tossing old teddy aside for the moment, the question really is; does it? In
the face of relationship conflict where emotions are often strong, is love what you really
want to rely on? You are the master, you decide. But consider that as master, and in
your position of leadership, perhaps effective conflict resolution protocols, are more
tangible, realistic tools. What are those, well, we are coming to that. But developed
wisely, they effectively, productively, and consistently, resolve disagreements within the
parameters of your structure. Growing and enjoying love is more fun, than relying on it.
The Bickersons did not have it, and do not get it. The master does and teaches it early.
“Her opinion counts, her vote does not.”
Problem solved, conflict over, he makes the decisions. Easy was it not?
When the master and slave accept and live that axiom, overcome already are most of
the arguments, and resulting baggage the Bickersons faced. There is no control element
debate in a master-slave relationship. He controls and she wants him too. There is no
need to belabor the point. They both know when conflict arises who is going to make
decisions. Now, just address and resolve the specific conflict issues.
However, conflict resolution is a tad more involved than, her opinion counts, not her
 vote. If it were only that simple!
“Shut up bitch, I’m the Master, I’m God. You obey!”
Oh boy! There is a style of dominance to make any bully proud. While the “Shut
up bitch”, was unnecessary arrogance and demeaning, the God declaration is
symptomatic of an underlying insecurity issue. The rest of the statement is true. He
knows, and she knows that he will make the decisions. Alas, if that were the extent of
her contributions to conflict resolution, many attending issues would go un-addressed,
her usefulness denied, and her self-worth undermined. And, that is just the start of the
shit-storm about to rain down on their relationship.
Satisfying conflict resolution is a recipe, the ingredients of which are: the Twenty-
Four Hour Rule, combined with Your opinion counts, your vote does not, throw in a
dollop of patience, a sprinkling of protocol, a pinch of ritual, mix the concoction with a
gallon of listening, and then bake it all with positive, resourceful decisions. The result…
a meal of trust, love and maturity, within the confines of the structure you built. Bingo,
another win/win!
Resolutely linked together in master-slave relationships are conflict resolution,
communication, self-worth, and self-identity issues. For anyone having never lived
master-slave, 24/7, they might not be aware, that if not diligent and guided carefully, a
slave can begin to feel stifled. It is very common in domineering bully styles of control,
but can happen in all relationships. So, be aware and guard against it. There is a
tendency for a slave to lose her identity. She becomes just “LT’s slave”, no longer a
functioning, independent identity. That is not healthy in the long-term. She is your
slave, to be sure, but much more too. Like all people, she is multi-dimensional, with
multiple skills, attributes and strengths. Stifling her identity in the whole will ultimately
kill her ability to serve.
Not hearing her; denying her full opinions; not trusting her; and the absence of
responsible decisions that she perceives should enhance your lives together, results in
stifling. She loses self-worth and identity. Therein is a catastrophe. Relationships are
about mutual need fulfillment, and for the master that means all needs, not just her slave
ones.
Knowing this, part of the master’s vision is valuing her personality, and putting
structure in place to ensure it flourishes. Communication channels taught early and used
extensively, enable her voice, create dialogue, trust and place value on her decision to
submit. Her ability to be heard and contribute is a large part of her personality and
extremely healthy. Thus, we need communication channels with that purpose in mind.
Channels that are healthy and open, but, also consistent with the master-slave dynamic.
Partners in good master-slave relationships know and believe in the structure that
master makes the final decisions. So now, the task becomes to use her slave’s skills and
intelligence, enabling her voice and contributions in meaningful ways. We want to re-
 enforce her self-esteem and value by listening to her, while maintaining the power
dynamics.
The most effective single technique to achieve this is the Twenty-four Hour rule.
Use it both for conflict resolution, but also to hear her thoughts consistently, whenever
needed. In doing so, she knows you actually hear her, and not just pay lip service to the
concept. The rule is a rock solid avenue for her expressions, feelings and ideas. Best
yet, it consistent with the master-slave power structure.

The Twenty-Four Hour Rule

“The slave can request a discussion regarding the relationship, or any other issue,
need, concern, or interest she has at anytime. A request for discussion ensures one
will occur within twenty-four hours at the master’s convenience.”

Re-read the rule please. Learn it. Use it. Steal it if you must. There is no more
important rule you will ever make, that serves the health and longevity of your
relationship, and your slave’s sanity, than this one. Overstressing the importance is
impossible. It is crucial!
If a slave’s voice is unheard, contributions are devalued, or limited, and it will drive
her nuts. Unable to communicate, her self-esteem will diminish and die. She will rebel
and leave before allowing that abuse. Her survival defenses will kick in unless she can
contribute in positive ways.
Ask yourself and answer honestly, not just with words, but with your actions too, do
you place any real value that she is not stifled? Is it important she contribute with
initiative? Can your ego take it? Are her opinions and feelings just a nuisance, because
you are omnipotent, your pleasure all that matters in life? Can you see any value at all,
in providing a vehicle and pathway, for your slave to talk to you about anything she
wants? Or, do you prefer to intimidate her into silence, because you cannot handle that
you may not have all the answers, need help, or know how to lead?
Is there any value in channels of communication that actually form structure and
respect your control, or do you prefer she just yaps at you willy-nilly, because it is easier,
it is common, it is familiar and it is vanilla?
Does the concept of ‘time outs’, arbitrarily granted at your Highness’s discretion, or
even worse, when she demands one, make a mockery of your vision and structure?
Must you, through action, or inaction, tell her the decision to submit and your control
is fake, nothing but fantasy role play, because when the fire gets hot, you have to revert
to vanilla-speak, to actually have a meaningful discussion?
 What about relationship baggage? Have you any interest in ensuring none develops
or, because it is easier, do you like keeping time bombs around to hurl and destroy in a
fit of petulant temper?
Consistent use of the Twenty-Four Hour Rule addresses all these questions and
makes for powerful, mature mastery. It is your tool. It provides the leadership you
promised. It is a critical component of your structure.
So how to make the Twenty-Four Hour rule work for you?
In life, when a slave asks for a discussion it usually happens right then. It is
practical, easy, and often very convenient. It need not however. Sometimes, master is
watching a football game, or puttering in his workshop, or just plain not in the mood for
a discussion when the slave asks. If she demands the discussion immediately, or the
master makes a rule always granting her one when asked, perception if not reality, is she
is topping from the bottom. Such a rule says the master has to drop whatever he is doing
because the slave demands it. Reality says she is in control. Granting her discussions
immediately is unnecessary. There is a better way.
So, why use twenty-four hours?
The timing is very important to the effectiveness of the rule. I strongly advise
anyone adopting this rule, they not make it forty-eight, or seventy-two hours, and twelve
hours might find you asleep in the middle of the night. Reality proves there are very few
issues arising that are so urgent they need immediate attention. Twenty-four hours
works beautifully. Extending the window beyond that limit tends to diminish the
urgency the slave may feel, but she also forgets at times. That may seem ideal to some
masters, not so to others. Assuming it was an issue; if not dealt with, under the carpet it
goes, festering away in the darkness, creating that hated baggage for the relationship.
Stick to twenty-four hours. It is short enough to keep the issue fresh and relevant, but
long enough that you are not at your slave’s beck and call when she wants to talk. You
control, not her. As long as she gets the discussion, she will be happy.
The rule firmly recognizes the slave’s need to communicate, a fundamental truth.
You both want it. Here is an avenue for her to talk about anything she wants, in a timely
manner, yet without demanding, a trait slaves and masters abhor. The rule, effectively
used, also demonstrates to her how very important she is, that you want her opinions and
voice, value them and provide a forum for expression and listening.
So now, we have a strong basis for consistent healthy conflict resolution and
communication within the master-slave dynamic. The rule recognizes the master makes
final decisions, while providing her with the essential tool to express herself
appropriately. She is heard, consistent with the master-slave dynamic. Beautiful! We
are almost there.
Recognizing the generalization, there is another benefit derived from the rule. It
addresses the common male trait of brushing issues they do not want to talk about, under
the table. Like many, I am guilty, as most men are at times, so benefit from the rule as
well. Have you ever hear a guy say, I don’t want to talk about that right now? So, it
gets shuffled off. When there is no Twenty-Four Hour Rule, or other protocol for her to
communicate concerns, she does not accept his answer, so carries on anyway. Heard
next are the bitter words nagging bitch. Friends hear this, and soon label and vilify him
as pussy-whipped. Well, good, in fact he is. Control has reverted to her and all because
he failed to establish a conflict resolution protocol. He deserves the moniker with only
himself to blame. So, the rule serves a double purpose. It is also a tool to ensure self-
discipline remains consistent.
Just because you have now firmly established her importance and given her a means
to communicate and address issues, does not, in and of itself, solve any problems. That
she has requested a discussion and had one is nice, but is only the start. The discussions
have to be fruitful. Solving issues immediately is not always possible, but they are now
addressed, and the process to a solution begun. Now solve them, you are the master.
Utilizing the rule lays an excellent foundation. You are pleased because nothing
creates baggage; and she is thrilled because women love to talk. No wait, I mean
because she has a master, not a little boy.
So now, spice it up. The conflict resolution issue needs a little pizzazz thrown at it.
The lifestyle is fun, so do things to keep it that way. Add some protocol and an
attending ritual and it establishes a very enjoyable and effective part of your structure.
Protocols are learned expectations, used to interact with you. For conflict resolution,
the protocol requires no yelling, screaming, raised voice, accusations, threats, or biting.
Insist on no biting. Just to get a word in edgewise, you might use your dangly bit for a
gag. Yes, no biting!
It is wise to go even further and prohibit anger, insisting discussions only occur when
everyone is calm. If she tries to request a discussion while angry, do not accept it, force
her to calm down first. You have twenty-four hours. Encourage her passion,
personality, and lively debate, but make sure she loses the uncontrolled negative
emotions. Teach her positive contributions, even to negative issues, goes farther than
whiny bitch sessions. She is what she thinks, and attracts what she thinks, so help her
ensure those thoughts are positive.
This applies both ways of course. She needs to see you in control, so develop anger
management skills. Calm yourself before engaging in discussion with her. You are
entitled to appropriate anger and frustration like anyone. Just control it. Manage it.
Some folks count to ten before speaking, but the most effective for me, is to go for a
walk. Walk alone, or in silence with her, until calm enough to have the conversation.
Explain you are not walking away from problems, or ignoring her, in fact, you are
immersed in the issue and preparing to handle it responsibly. She will figure it out, and
 appreciate not being your verbal punching bag.
Along with the rule and now protocol, add a ritual to initiate and request the
discussion. Use whatever works for you. Outlined in Volume III – Rituals, is
“Requesting a Discussion”. Steal it if you want.
So now, you have the key tool solving one of the most contentious issues facing all
masters. Teach it early in your relationship. The rule addresses conflict and teaches
communication. Stress the importance of understanding and using it. There is no
alternative for her anyway. Practice the ritual process and make sure she is comfortable.
The rule is not intended for idle banter, daily conversation, or chit-chat. But when she
needs you to hear important concerns, she has the means to communicate available
twenty-four hours a day. She just kneels and makes her request. It is as simple as
pulling her hair.
It is beautiful and what more could a slave want? Your home is your peaceful haven,
as you both want. Now she can be your slave girl, not Mrs. Bickerson.
Implementation of the Twenty-four Hour Rule requires significant adjustment for
your slave. The structure changes historical interactions she developed, yet teaches that
opinion counts, just not her vote. Provide her the opportunity to assimilate this. Be
patient with her. Remember, she is likely overcoming a lifetime of vanilla conditioning.
It will take time for the habit to form. With use though, realizing her opinions and
concerns have voice, and match master’s ears, confidence and trust will grow. As she
re-affirms that trust, and thus your decadent brilliance, place a hand between her legs and
discover she is soaked! Trust does that. Even dry rules flood the panties.
Realization comes quickly for slaves that decisions arising from discussions she
initiated, are not always to her liking. Having a voice does not mean she gets her way.
That can be shocking to new slaves. Many are not used to the sheer audacity that some
brute will impose his will, good heavens no! However, you made it clear before
collaring, and ideally, from the moment you met. Explaining the new reality so she
begins the metamorphosis to the new decision making structure, is mighty important.
There is value too, in making some decisions she will not like. Often though, that is
not hard. It keeps structure focused for her. When she is not happy with a decision, she
must call on the foundation of trust you have built and support the decision. You
exercise control, motivated by the always-present goal of enriching your lives, and she
needs to believe you. Your decisions are not always perfect, or sometimes not arbitrary.
You explained that in advance, and to sustain belief in her submission, your structure
and you, she needs to contribute. The Twenty-four Hour Rule ensures contribution and
that you heard it. Then make the decision, or take the necessary action to resolve the
issue.
She does not decide, she humbly accepts. It is her duty. There is a key to sustainable
master-slave living. Rather than seeking control of the process, she accepts it,
 appreciating the opportunity to contribute, and abiding your decision. Therein is a key
element to the conflict resolution process. She accepts graciously.
Sometimes you hear her opinions and simply disagree. Her responsibility then, is to
smile and make it her business to support your decision. She cannot act to nullify the
effect. Nor, can she pout. Acting to subvert the decision, and pout, are explicit acts of
topping from below, and flagrant disobedience.
That is why the master-slave niche of the lifestyle is not for everyone.

Mind Fuck #9 - "The Nag"

She lay on the threadbare bedspread, naked, exposed, and vulnerable. Rope bound
her spread-eagled. For years, such attention aroused her, anticipating master’s use. Each
time was different, sometimes agony, often bliss, always intimate. Approaching the
edge, tormented and teased, for hours on end, so close, begging and crying for release, so
long delayed. They loved this game and her surrender. He was an artist, reading and
playing, knowing how to inflame with pain and pleasure, until the difference was
meaningless. Up and down in peaks and valleys, the intensity, rhythm and timing
exquisitely torturous. She loved it!
Today was different, and she was bone dry, nervous, even a little frightened. Maybe
she had pushed the envelope too far. A shudder rolled down her body at that thought
and what surely must come. The blindfold only intensified her anxiety.
It was in a cheap motel, a hot-sheet special, one she would never select of her own
volition. The room was not even clean. When she saw the bathroom, bile rose in her
throat. She loved her comforts and master spoiled her, but more than anything, she hated
filth. Moving to protest, he put her on speech restriction. Now she lay naked and bound,
with God knows what crawling around the floor. She had reason to be frightened. This
was unlike him.
Yes, she thought, she had pushed too hard, broken rules, and not handled problems
well. Addressing issues was well ingrained; she had been his slave long enough. Now
she must acknowledge and endure the consequences. Having known better, there was
nothing to do now, but wait.
He had arisen this morning to more of the nagging he had tolerated far too much of
late. Not enough sex, not enough money, complaints had turned to incessant whining.
Numerous times, he explained the doctor’s advice. His libido was down, and that was
normal, and natural considering the stress he endured. Since taking on the financial
responsibilities for her ailing parents, money had been tight, and he worried constantly.
Sex was the last thing on his mind, and though aware he was neglecting her needs, there
lacked the drive to search out a solution. Her weeks of subtle reminders had turned to
outright confrontation and nagging. Knowing she felt pressure too, he had allowed some
leniency. That mistake had bitten his ass. He should have known better. She knew how
to address conflicts between them, after all, he taught her, and for years, she obeyed.
They enjoyed a peaceful life and their love deepened every day, partly because he
responsibly and promptly handled issues within their lives.
They were here in this sleaze-bucket motel because he relaxed his structure. Fault
lay with them both, but the nagging disobedience had to end. By tomorrow, she would
know the existence of structure again. Then they could move forward. Tonight though,
he had to re-build it.
He pinched her nose. When her mouth opened, he stuffed the gag in and locked it
behind her neck. The room was quiet, but for the cranky air conditioner. He let her
stew.
Then, talking quietly, she heard every word. The solemn whisper he knew from
experience, would terrify her. Talking softly meant the big stick was coming.
“No sex, no money. That is all I have heard for weeks. You have played out your
last vanilla wife act, slavegirl.”
This was not fun. It would work though, and serve the purpose.
“I have explained and been patient. I have tolerated your growing petulance and
flagrant flaunting of the rules. I did so, to extend an opportunity for you to understand
and work with me. We have done a good thing with your parents, something onerous on
us financially, with resulting issues, but made the decision and accepted the
responsibility all caring human beings would do. It has resulted in neglecting your
needs and I have failed to enforce my rules. I worried, sought out medical advice, tried
to cope with our new challenges, and you just nagged, too often, too selfishly. That ends
tonight girl.”
“After your lesson tonight, how you talk to me and the protocols in place to resolve
issues will be enforced with zero tolerance. Then we can find the peace and tranquility
we have enjoyed. You need this girl, as much as I do. There will be no discussion. This
is not fun and I am not looking forward to the next few hours. But it must be done.”
Pausing, he touched her icy hand, knowing it was not the rope. Her circulation was
fine. She was nervous, angry with herself, and she was cold. Accepting and finding
peace, despite her nerves was part of the process. She was doing it now. Release from
disobedience would enable her again. She wanted no other life. This was a necessary
part of her freedom. It was the structure she craved and needed. For now though, reality
was trepidation, absolution only off in the distance.
“You’ve bitched long enough. Not enough sex, not enough money, well, we solve
both those problems right now slavegirl.”
 He snapped a Polaroid picture of this naked slave. She heard the camera. She
knew. Waiting always worked to focus his girl, so let surrender grow in silence.
Coating his fingers from the jar, placing them under her nose, he growled.
“You know that smell girl. It’s Vaseline to lubricate you.”
He coated her cunt and she gasped at the cold onslaught. Next was her anus, pushing
in there too. Raw emotion hung in the air. Throwing a handful of condoms on her chest,
he looked down at the forlorn slave. He was ready.
“This shit-hole motel stinks slavegirl, but it has one thing that will solve your
nagging. In the bar next-door, overflowing from the doorways are men. Lowlifes and
drunks to be sure, but for ten bucks, I am sure there will be enough who want to fuck
you. Your holes are ready and there are fifty condoms on your chest. By morning they
will be used and you will have had all the sex you can handle, with five hundred bucks
thrown in for your money bitching. You wanted sex and money, well now you will have
‘fucking money”.
The gag muffled her scream, but the thrashing against the ropes gave him a clue that
maybe, she did not like his solution. So far so good, and he resisted smiling. In her ear,
he growled.
“I’ll be back with your first customer soon. This picture should raise some interest.”
She actually snapped one of her arm ropes in panic, and he was on her chest in a
flash, straddling and pinning the arm.
“You got a problem bitch? You made your needs known and I’ve solved them. Lots
of sex, lots of money, life is good. What is your fucking problem, slavegirl? You don’t
like my solution? You don’t want dozens of strange, dirty men fucking you? You don’t
want to smell the beer on their breath as they try to kiss you, or their dirty hands
squeezing your tits? Don’t worry, pet, I will be here to tell them how rough you like it.
I’ll make sure they get violent with you. There won’t be any of that crappy TLC stuff.
You’re going to get fucked raw, just like you love.”
She was sobbing hysterically now and actually convulsing. He slapped her face
hard.
“Get a grip girl! You are getting just exactly what you asked for, begged for, whined
and nagged for.”
He drove the point home relentlessly.
“If it weren’t for all the diseases I’d have your cunt and ass so full you’d be leaking
cum for a week. Do you understand girl? You are getting exactly what you want. You
want control, demand service, as if I am some trained pet stallion. You decided your
needs come first. You didn’t care about, or listen to the doctor’s explanation; or me;
 you just wanted your own pleasure. Well, fuck you slave, you got it!”
The starch was gone; she wilted, just quietly sobbing now. Surrendered and
capitulated, the power struggle was over. Listening to her tears, he waited for the
envelope of unconditional acceptance. It would happen for this treasure slave. Her
choice to be his slave, not wife, but his unfettered slave, sank in. It is all she ever
wanted.
When the time came, he took off the gag first, wiping away the spittle. The blindfold
came next. Her eyes were swollen and red. Tears had soaked her face. She looked up at
her master, sniffling and sedate. She had stopped moving, knowing who she was. He
leaned closer.
“Who are you?”
“Your slave who loves you with all her heart Master”, came back the words from her
soul.
He smiled gently to her, “Let’s go home pet.”
Later that night they made love, their first intimacy in too long.
At breakfast the next morning, they smiled while sipping coffee.
“That picture you took last night Master, may I see it please?”
From his wallet, he handed it across the table. Looking at it for some time, she
cocked her head.
“You know, I look kind of sexy like that. It doesn’t show how scared I was you were
going to bring those men up.”
She looked him in the eye.
“Would you have?”
He took the picture and looked at it.
“You do look sexy girl,” and he grabbed her out of the chair by the hair.
For the next hour TLC was gone, that need sated the night before. It was a return to
their baser needs. Rough and raw, master was back; and she welcomed him as only a
slave can. Basking inside her, he put a hand around her neck and squeezed. She had
cum too many times to count. Then he smiled.
“Would I have let them fuck you?
He paused, staring at the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Nag again to resolve issues and you will find out, my precious little slave.”
 Chapter III - Punishment
Stubble Meet Stubble

Summer weekends at the cottage were bliss, and he cherished the time. Bumming
around without shaving, in old shorts, a few cold pops, sun, swimming, ribs on the
barbecue, it was his slice of heaven. That his slave loved it too, was perfect. She looked
sexy in her bikini and knew it. Not shy about flaunting and teasing him, and others, she
was a first class flirt and the worst sort of cock-tease. The paradox of her reality made
him laugh. Seeing her half naked though, always made him frisky. As it was Friday
with no clients scheduled, it was a noon departure for the cottage. Skipping his hated
morning shave, he got a head start on the weekend whiskers.
“Going with the homeless look this weekend Master?” She smiled.
He grinned and tweaked her tit.
“I like being a ruffian, makes ravaging you more fun.”
She scooted away giggling. Summer weekends were fun.
In two hours, they would be basking on the beach in the summer sun, away from the
world, enjoying nature, having a drink and relaxing. And so it was.
“Master may I go up and start dinner?”
He looked up at his beauty standing mostly naked on the beach. Her bikini did not
hide much. She was still beautiful to him after all these years.
“Come here pet”, and she crossed to his beach chair.
“You know girl, I was just thinking. Despite all the welts I have put on your bum
over the years, you still have an ass that could convert the Pope.”
“Oh, do I have a horny master today?”
She cocked her hips, wiggled her ass, and noogied his stubbly chin.
“Are you going to spank and ravage me, you hairy bandito? Take advantage of this
cute little innocent girl? Make her do naughty things she doesn’t like?”
He stood up and towered over her. There size difference was a source of constant
jokes from friends. He liked it. It made it easy to carry her under one arm and spank her
with the other. Grabbing her by the hair, he palmed the front of her tiny bikini panty.
“Don’t like huh? What is this little wet spot on your bikini missy-innocent? It seems
you want to be ravaged and aren’t so innocent.”
 He smiled and groped his property.
“But no freebies for you, tartplate. You earn your welts and there is nothing for you
tonight if you don’t cum on my hand in the next two minutes.”
He thrust his hand down the front of her bikini and time stood still for her.
He stared at her in disbelief, his hand now cupping her mound. He was speechless.
There was stubble, a few days worth of growth.
Her eyes dropped and she whimpered, “I am sorry Master. I forgot.”
He nodded, knowing the day would come. He prepared for it. The timing was lucky
and perfect, for him, though he did not think she would agree shortly. Pushing her onto
the sand, he ripped her panty off. There it was, hairy and wet.
“Get your legs apart, slave.”
He knew she hated what was coming. They were alone on the secluded beach.
Spreading her legs to the afternoon sun, her master, and anyone else who might wander
down, might see her treasures.
He looked at her cunt. “Stubble, meet stubble.”
Kneeling down, he bent forward and she gasped. The day old prickly rough hair on
his chin sent pain through her clit instantly. For five minutes, he chaffed her
relentlessly. Trying to squirm away without thinking, he pinched her nipples holding her
tight. She was crying, and then it was over. He yanked her to her knees.
“Is there anything else you want to say slave?”
She took a moment, recovering, and wiping away the tears.
“Yes Master. That really hurt. Please forgive me, and may I have permission to
shave?”
“You understand the rule girl?”
“Yes Master, I simply disobeyed through thoughtlessness. It definitely won’t happen
again.”
He nodded and smiled.
“I suspect it won’t and if it does, next time won’t be as easy for you. Now go and
shave and I will be up in a moment to inspect you.”
“Yes Master, ummmmmm… may I have my bikini back please?”
He forgot it was in his hand. Holding up the torn bits, they both laughed.
“You did bring a second one didn’t you, pet?”
 You want to master in the TPE niche. That is your goal and happiness. It is who you
are. Ok, that is acknowledged and accepted. Now in return, acknowledge and accept,
that in this niche of the BDSM spectrum, it is essential you learn about the role of
punishment in your relationship.
Here is a fact. Punishment is a required element to succeed, so it behooves you to
learn all about it, in theory and practice, the pitfalls and benefits. Successfully mastering
punishment, using it consistently, fairly and when required, will mark your mastery.
Failure to learn this discipline, the benefits, the ways, reasons and styles, will condemn
you to failure. It is that simple. Learning everything there is to know about punishment,
and then using it responsibly is not optional. Buying into anything short of using
punishment is foolhardy. Granted, others disagree and see punishment in various other
lights. When analyzing their reasoning to exclude punishment from their relationship
though, you quickly see they do not reside in the all-inclusive Three Power niche.
Such a strong statement requires explanation. But, I cannot stress enough, that for
anyone truly seeking a long-term relationship as a master owning a slave, a complete
understanding and responsible use of punishment is indispensable.
First, you learned and mastered a Conflict Resolution protocol, and now must do the
same with responsible use of punishment. These are two crucial elements of mastery.

Critical Mass - Defining the Difference

Ask yourself this straightforward question.

Is there a singular, unique characteristic that separates and identifies a master-
slave relationship from vanilla ones?
You will hear many answers to that question, from many perspectives. Some are
well thought out, others less so. The simple answer is yes, there is a difference; and
there is only one.
In my travels throughout the continent, talking to countless peers, slaves,
relationship professionals, having had both the benefits of wise mentoring, and living
master-slave for too many decades to remain a neophyte, I have only ever identified one
defining characteristic. It is simple, and once again destroys the popular myth that we
are some special exemplary breed, understanding relationships better than anyone else.
We are not. We are not special in the grand scheme things, and have no need for the
attending arrogance by thinking so. But, what we do have is the use of responsible
punishment in our relationships, the benefits of which are unavailable to vanilla couples.
That is the single unique defining difference between master-slave and vanilla
 relationships.
Pose the question to friends and examine their answers. It is a very interesting
discussion and worth having to help understand what it is we do.
Many will argue there is in fact, no difference at all, just variations of the same
recurring natural dynamics. They cite the use of punishment in vanilla relationships to
make their point. But, the statement asserts responsible use of punishment, as the
defining difference, and I dare say vanillas, and too many purporting to be masters forget
the word responsible. Its inclusion is mandatory. Vanillas use punishment as a tool of
retribution. It is an immature equalizer. “You hurt me, so I will hurt you”, only
generates negative resentment. There is nothing beneficial contributed to their
relationship by such behavior. In fact, it is destructive of trust and intimacy. The
potential benefits are lost. That punishment is used similarly in the BDSM world at
times, just proves immaturity has no boundaries, and we are not exempt from the
practice. Undeniably, punishment is the most misused, and misunderstood individual
element of the BDSM lifestyle, bar none. It is so badly understood and used, to be
virtually an epidemic of abuse.
As you have discussions with peers, another argument put forth as a defining
difference between master-slave and vanilla, is the existence of a defined control
structure, or power exchange, not present in vanilla relationships. While that is true in
master-slave, it is also true in most, if not all, vanilla couples too. Rarely, do true
egalitarian relationships exist. Power structure exists, to one degree or another, in all
relationships. We have all seen it. In fact, the truly equal relationships are so rare that
they, not master-slave, are the niche relationship style. Equal power between partners is
the off-normal, outside-the-box rarity. No, the existence of structure and defined
control, is not unique to master-slave, and thus does not define us.
Still others present the argument the introduction of S&M in to the
relationship defines us. But does it? The Kinsey Report found 93% of married couples
engage in erotic spanking at some time during their marriage. Does that mean only 7%
of couples are not in the BDSM world, or does it mean that some form of pain/pleasure
is a natural part of human sexuality? Ask vanilla women if they like their nipples
pinched during orgasm, and it becomes clear that S&M without a name is indeed, more
widespread than just in the BDSM world. A woman’s moans reveal the intensity of her
orgasms increase, by a deliberate infliction of pain. The resounding chorus of OMG Yes
as she convulses prove, pain puppies, even come vanilla flavored.
There exists too, couples that live rigidly structured master-slave dynamics that
practice no S&M at all. Often their regimens are extremely strict by vanilla, and even
many BDSM standards, yet they exclude S&M from their relationship. They are just not
into that aspect of the BDSM world. In every sense, they live as master and slave, with
defined structure, accountability and responsibility. So once again the answer is no.
S&M does not define us as unique either.
 The depth of honesty and trust between a master and slave is more critical to the
stability and health of the relationship compared to vanilla couples, is another often
heard argument separating the relationship styles. What a crock of shit! That argument
is flat out arrogant disrespect for vanilla folks. Dismissing vanillas as incapable, or
unwilling, to enter honest, trusting, committed and unconditional relationships, is
contemptuous and unfair. We all know good vanilla folks with incredibly loving and
honest relationships. No, this certainly does not define us, and thinking so is narrow-
minded vanity.
Still others present weak arguments about the wearing of leather, or body piercings,
that differentiate us, but Goths and Harley riders disprove that a nonsensical supposition.
What makes us different, are masters understanding the role of punishment within the
master-slave dynamic, using it wisely, responsibly, and appropriately, to create positive
benefits for the slaves and themselves. There is no other singular, uniquely defining
characteristic. If you identify another, by all means, shoot me a note and let me know.

The Benefits – Why Use Punishment

If responsible use of punishment defines us, we are wise to understand why, and
make sure the benefits derived serve a positive purpose. If not, we are just self-glorified
vanillas, wherein consequence applied to our structure, is not but a sham. A natural
question is why then, do we punish, and what good is derived?
Understand first, that punishment only deals with your slave’s disobedience of taught
rules. It is one-half of the equation that structure only exists, if there is consequence.
Reward and punishment are consequence, and more on rewarding and acknowledging
your slave comes later. Also, be aware of an important context. Punishment has nothing
whatsoever to do with a master’s errors. Masters do not get punished. For slaves
thinking that unfair, well, tough! Dealing with master mistakes, was addressed in
Volume I.
Punishment is also not a training tool, so scrap that piece of popular fiction. A wise
axiom to remember is, “You cannot punish what you have not taught”. Doing so
reduces your vision to the realm of fantasy and irresponsibility.
So why do we punish?
We punish our slaves to achieve one, or more, of five possible benefits. While
itemized here, in the practical, day-to-day master-slave household, they are often
mingled together, and blurred, but distinguishing them is not important, as long as the
punishment is an appropriate consequence to the disobedience, and done in a way to
achieve the benefit.
 To remember the five benefits of punishment, simply memorize this phrase.
"He Cares about Structural Integrity and Slave Freedom, so Forgive and
Forget the Baggage."
The five benefits of responsible punishment are:
1. Punishment is the ‘forgive and forget’ mechanism in the
relationship, enabling both partners to move forward positively.
2. Punishment prohibits emotional baggage from accumulating over time, that
can ambush a relationship in the future.
3. Punishment in spades, conveys to his slave that he cares enough about her to
punish.
4. Punishment ensures his structure is real by applying consequence and
accountability.
5. Punishment relieves the slave of any guilt and upset she may feel, allowing
her to move forward in service and obedience, with a clean slate.
If all that is true, a slave must love having punishment available to her!
Before diving into the five benefits of punishment, understand that it must be used
correctly and responsibly to avoid the surefire damage that happens when done
cavalierly. Practicing punishment poorly, leads to catastrophic results. Those serious in
their quest of mastery, having pride in what they can accomplish in the lifestyle, beyond
wielding whips, will learn all about responsible punishment and use it. Learn and
practice it, guided by four punishment truths.
1. Experienced, knowledgeable masters hate punishing, but never fail to. She
made a mistake, and we understand that. It can be difficult punishing her, knowing
you too are imperfect. But, the benefits far outweigh the distaste of doing
something un-enjoyable.
2. A slave thrives knowing structure exists and that her master cares enough to
punish.
3. Arbitrary “just cuz” reasons to punish belong in the games closet with
Monopoly and Trivial Pursuit. Leave it there, and get a Clue.
4. Do not punish what you have not taught.

Forgive And Forget Mechanism

All the benefits of punishment are important and serve wonderful purposes for the
 master-slave couple, but none more so, than the Forgive and Forget aspect. It deals
with, then, eliminates negativity from their relationship. To make punishment work
fruitfully, the master, using time, patience and consistent practice, must instill in his
slave the unqualified belief, that when disobedience is punished and complete, it is over.
The misdeed is truly forgiven and forgotten by her master.
Accomplishing that is no easy feat. It is a hell of a lot harder than you think, for the
simple reason, most people have experienced issues being thrown back in their face at a
later date, when new turmoil erupts. Either for spiteful reasons or, plain immaturity is
why it occurs. As a result, we naturally move to protect ourselves. We build emotional
walls, becoming ever vigilant and leery it might happen again. It is the master’s
challenge to overcome these emotional defenses. Making punishment effective achieves
that.
However, there is only one way for a slave to believe her master has truly forgiven
and forgotten. That is the test of time. When she learns issues do not resurface to be
used against her in the future, then, she trusts, opens up, lets her defensive walls down,
and reaps the freeing benefits of punishment. However, it is up to the master to provide
the consistency of truly forgetting. He cannot use past disappointments against her.
When punishment is over, you must drop it. Forget she disobeyed and do not ever bring
it up again. This enables her. She can obey your demands with complete trust. You
have given her the safe platform to submit. Be mature in your dealings with her
disobedience and you will own a healthy slave. It is a skill to acquire and it is crucial.
Never forget to forget.
“Master, may I ask you a question please?”
Looking down at his kneeling treasure, he smiled. He was smitten, unconditionally
in love with her. She had cried earlier in the café, and knew she was still upset. She had
not learned yet, but she was getting it, albeit slowly.
“Of course pet, fire away.”
“How do you do that?”
He looked at her puzzled.
“Well, I hold the whip by the handle, then…”
“No, no Master, I know how you do that, and very well I can attest to”, she purred.
“I meant, how did you punish me in the cafe in two minutes, and then go back to
talking to Todd as if nothing happened?”
“Get me the “No Stick” first, then give me a kiss slave girland I will tell you.”
Damn she thought, he catches it when I don’t even know I said the damn word.
 She obeyed, they laughed and he groped her ample bosom.
“The explanation will have to wait pet, something has come up.”
She blushed and knelt. Ten minutes later, he answered.
“Pet, it is simple, for me, and must become for you too.”
They had been having a nice Sunday morning breakfast in the diner with an old
friend, who had flown in for the fetish weekend. Todd was a dominant pal from the
early days, and this was the first chance all weekend to sit down and catch up, without a
crowd buzzing around.
“Pet, if you recall, and I am sure you do, I asked you to pass my cigarettes and you
made a face, obviously disapproving of my smoking. I saw that, interrupted my sentence
to Todd, and the pleasant conversation we were having, grabbed you by the hair and
made sure you understood your disobedience, my disappointment in your behavior, then
dealt with it. You cried, and as we talked about later, you cried not at being punished in
front of Todd, but because of disappointing me. That is why you are my slave, pet. You
get it. All you cared about was that you embarrassed and disappointed me. There were
no tears about your own feelings being hurt.”
“Others, less beautiful in the soul, would have cared more about their being
admonished in public, reflecting their inward self-absorbed thinking, rather than how
your silly-assed behavior reflected on me. How you handled it was beautiful, and why
you are my slave. You understand slavery and the first part of punishment. But, you
have not had enough time to learn to trust the second part. I was able to go back talking
to Todd as if nothing happened, because in a sense, it was like nothing had.”
“You disobeyed, I dealt with it, and remember what I said about forgive and forget.
You need to learn that I had forgotten about it as soon as it was over. You have not
learned that about me yet, but more importantly, you have not learned to do it too. Until
you do, you won’t enjoy the benefits of punishment that release you to serve and move
forward. You are still in every sense, dwelling in what to me, is ancient history. Take
the time to learn this, and let the trust grow. If you can’t, it brings negativity to us, but
also, your inability to move on will become disobedience too. But, you have not learned
that yet, so you are off the hook for the moment.”
She smiled and laid her head on his boots, safe and secure.

An oft-admired characteristic of quality masters is the ability to adjust on the fly, and
handle disobedience quickly. From happily carrying on with their day, to attending her
disobedience when necessary, then punishing, they move from task to task easily.
Handling disobedience, an unpleasant task at best, then returning to a jovial mood
immediately, earmarks their mastery. It is as if nothing untoward happened. They do
 not let it ruin their day. It is over, dealt with, forgiven and forgotten.
This transition mystifies slaves at first, but it is quite simple. Masters deal with
disobedience then, forgive, and forget. Since, in his mind the disobedience is over and
dealt with, the lesson re-taught and structure intact; he resumes a smile, knowing the
issue is effectively, and constructively closed. Why not smile, he knows it will never be
brought up again. Lingering on negative thoughts is pointless. Nor, does he want his
mind cluttered, remembering details that serve no purpose. He has moved on.
The slave needs to learn this skill. It is difficult at first, because she is not used to it.
That immediate disposal and transformation process is often a new experience for her.
When she learns it, then she is free to move forward. However, until she does,
punishment will be difficult and the full benefits not realized.
While this technique works efficiently with immediate benefits, it does not always
work. On issues of disobedience that have a profound effect on the master, sometimes
the resulting disappointment takes time to process. When angered, frustrated, or deeply
hurt, and not ready to forgive her, then do not go through the charade of punishing her.
If not ready to forgive, then wait until you are. Do not leave her in the dark though. Do
not use avoidance and ignoring as weapons. While immature and petulant, it is often
destructive. Instead, explain the enormity of the disappointment felt, and while it does
not threaten release from your collar, it is going to take some time to digest and be ready
to re-teach, punish, forgive, forget and then move on. She will understand and
appreciate your wisdom, if not immediately, then later. If she is the slave you think,
your pain is magnified tenfold in her. She wants, and needs your forgiveness and will
wait, unhappily, but she will wait.

Putting Out The Trash

Dispensing with emotional baggage in a master-slave relationship on the planet Gor,

of the John Norman novels is easy. Earthly norms and laws do not bind the Gorean
master. He does not have to deal with slave baggage, tumultuous slave issues, lingering
female drama, or fretting over her ability to learn, all of which can sabotage human
relationships. Rather than develop means of coping, or pondering whether to release her,
he simply kills her. No fuss, no muss. There are a lot more Tuchuk slave girls when the
need arises. Such is the fantasy world.
Alas, we mere earthly masters do not have that option, nor would we want it. Earth
slaves of reality, are more precious and valued than adventurous fiction slaves in yellow
silks, heaving bosoms, conjuring black wine from coffee; though the idea of giving them
to the Panther Girls for a few weeks of survivalist training, is enticing. We mere mortal
masters, rather than snuff out a displeasing slave, replacing her by raiding the Southern
Plains, prefer to punish slaves instead. Doing so appropriately, rids us of the hated
 emotional baggage.
That is the second benefit of responsible punishment in a master-slave relationship.
It is a wonderfully effective technique to cleanse the relationship anytime a slave’s
behavior threatens to disrupt harmony in the home.
When you punish, you are effectively dealing with issues to the point of closure.
Done well, there is no residual effect after punishment. The ‘forgive and forget’
mechanism ensures that never happens. What a wonderful way to live! Punishment
addresses everything, leaving no festering sores to cause relationship illness later on.
Nothing is swept under the carpet.
“Call me when you know your work schedule, please pet.”
“Yes Master”.
She forgot.
He wants structure consistent, yet must handle her disobedience so that it will not
linger. That she forgot her task caused disappointment, perhaps anger, or frustration in
her master. He addressed the issue, using punishment. How he does that is coming
shortly, so hold onto your britches. But he does, now what?
Well, he can let it linger after punishment, and throw it at her the next day, or let it
affect his mood afterwards, when the issue should be closed. That he does neither
means, he knows the value of forgive and forget, and the potential baggage is gone.
That he punished and dealt with the error ensures it cannot come back and bite him in the
ass.
If the slave lets it continue bothering her, festering in her mind, affecting her attitude,
after punishment, she is denying herself the benefits of punishment. She cannot be
cavalier and take her punishment, then carry on with poor behavior, or attitude. That
affects her master negatively. Doing so, in effect, assumes control, and we know how
well that goes over with a master. By letting go, she too knows there is no lingering
baggage, and that is a wonderful feeling.
Well-conceived, and practiced punishment alleviates all these problems and disposes
of emotional baggage. Throw out the trash, but do not throw her out too. The planet
Gor is fantasy.

Slave Freedom

Similarly, but subtly different to dispensing with relationship baggage, punishment

also frees slaves to move forward, again unencumbered by their transgression of rules.
Some women can drive you crazy, dwelling on issues already effectively dealt with
 through punishment. Please forgive the stereotyping, but where masters forgive and
forget; women have a penchant for hanging onto issues, longer than most men. Masters
must overcome a slave’s habit of internalizing feelings and beating herself up. Allow
her to watch your ability to put closure to issues. Women can be stubborn, and it will
take patience. But, she must acquire the skill; otherwise she will not progress at the rate
you want. More significantly, though, she will walk around for a day, or two, in a mood,
and that in itself is unpleasant. That nonsense is unnecessary. Re-enforce and constantly
stress, issues are over and forgotten after punishment. A liberal dose of “get over
yourself”, works wonders too. Again though, be patient. Processing issues internally, is
often deeply rooted by a lifetime of practice. Eventually, she may need discipline
(training), and ultimately punishment, if she refuses to dispose of her own disobedience,
after punishment. Use your cage for a day to help this along. Internalization and caging
seem a natural fit. When punishment is over, the slate is clean, so, suck it up princess.

Structural Integrity

Structure does not exist without consequence. Believe that or not, but it is true.
Without the ability to enforce your rules, they do not exist; and slaves are not perfect,
they will mess up. Punishment, when used constructively, creating positive benefits,
without the element of retribution, is essential to maintaining your structure, and thus
essential to slave ownership. You cannot thrive in the TPE niche without understanding,
and utilizing punishment in your relationship.
Masters excluding constructive punishment do not understand the benefits, or, do not
have the knowledge to do it well. It can also be simply that they surrender to vanilla
indoctrination, lacking the intestinal fortitude and courage to lead during adversity.
After all, it is easy to lead when all is rosy, but quality masters also lead when times are
tough. Hearing of masters that do not punish, almost assuredly reflects, that they do not
understand the slave mindset, and her need for structure. Failure to punish puts structure
in jeopardy.
There is no reasonable justification to exclude such a positive and defining element
from your master-slave life. Understand though, these statements apply to the
TPE niche, and may or may not, apply to less rigorous niches of the BDSM spectrum.
Other niches can, and often do, exclude punishment from their version of the Three
Power equation. However, master-slave structure cannot exist without consequence, and
that is true of all structured environments. In fact, nothing would ever be accomplished
when tasks are disliked; without rules and consequence. Would you go to work at 8a.m.
every day, if your paycheck still arrived, and you kept your job? Without going too far
out on a limb, it is safe to conclude, that those not liking their job would not. No one
forces you to work. However, there is a consequence if you do not. Your paycheck will
not show up and you will be fired. There is no intimidation involved. You work
 because doing so meets your prioritized needs, like the need to eat. Likewise,
punishment in the master-slave niche is not forced intimidation, the kind used
historically to keep slaves in line.
Harsh punishment used historically on coerced slaves, maintained economic
structure. It also kept them against their will. Consensual slaves differ though, and
according to the SODS Principle, want to obey. They then, theoretically, are never
deliberately disobedient, making punishment moot. Well, that is nice in theory, but we
are imperfect creatures, and rules do get broken. Few slaves intentionally break rules,
and none can be coerced, but all need to know structure exists. Structure requires
consequence.
Some say a master’s disappointment in her behavior is enough punishment, and
again, that is a nice warm fuzzy, sterilizing, perhaps even cowardly sentiment. It works
to a degree though. However, over time, it is too complacent an approach. It becomes a
non-event. “Master is disappointed again, oh dear” is not much of a consequence for
her. If she is left standing in the kitchen, knowing she was disobedient, while her master
skulks off to sulk, while only expressing disappointment, then no effective
structure exists. The slave will react complacently, rebelliously, with frustration, or
indifference, none of which enriches the relationship.
Conversely, understanding her behavior is going to cause her master to act, then the
dynamics change. When she knows he feels obliged to do something distasteful,
knowing it is necessary; then she feels her disobedience has consequence, and that
structure exists. Deep down, she wants that structural integrity, knowing the importance
to them both. With it, she feels her submission, his control, and is grateful. Ultimately,
she is happy about the life she chose.

He Cares

Similarly, when disobedience meets punishment, the slave sees not just that
structure exists, but perhaps, as importantly as any other benefit punishment provides, it
demonstrates he cares for her.
Do a little survey with your slave friends. Ask them, that if their master were to
discontinue, or never practice punishment, what message would that send her?
Overwhelmingly, the message clearly is that, he does not care. If he cannot be bothered
to punish, to maintain the structure he put in place, then what is the point? If nothing
happens for disobedience, beyond a shrug of the shoulders, perhaps an expression of
disappointment, or a muttered, lousy slave, while shuffling off to watch TV, then why
bother obeying what is inconvenient, too much work, or no fun.
Here is a little trick. Keep your eyes open when looking at masters, and their
 slaves who do not incorporate punishment in their relationship. Inevitably, seen below
the surface image, is that no sustained day-to-day structure exists, or that she controls, or
that his slaves keep changing.
Those that do not punish usually are skilled at talking about the concepts of master-
slavery, but before long, slaves realize that real structure is a façade, that he is not
willing to enforce it, or put effort into its maintenance. Too many masters then cover
their lack of structure, by transferring responsibility to the slave with words like, she
isn’t a good slave, and will not obey. The slave quickly realizes her needs are not being
met, and she becomes the latest in a revolving door of slaves, in and out of his collar.
His real need is not slave ownership, but to live on the concierge level at the Marriott
hotel. There punishment is easy. He can pick up the phone and scream at some poor
soul paid to take his crap.
Successful masters must care enough to punish. She understands that life is not
always a bed of rose thorns, but she thrives knowing she submitted to a man of courage
and fortitude. Be that man for her. Learn about punishment, and never fail to use it
when she is disobedient. Just always remember, you cannot punish what you have not
taught. Oh, and punishment can be fun too!

The Punishment

Preface:
Below is an extreme example of punishment. Some may wish to skip reading this
section. Know please, it was not the norm in our lives. Represented is a gut-wrenching
moment. It was certainly the most difficult decision to punish I have ever made, and
undoubtedly for her to endure. To understand and not dismiss it as abusive nonsense,
there must be context.
In the reality of a sustained master-slave relationship, use of formalized punishment
is far less frequent than one might expect, or anticipate going in. Certainly, that is true
as understanding and appreciation of structure matures over time. Most disobedience is
minor in nature, corrected with a hair pull, a look, an explanation, perhaps
admonishment, and it is over, forgiven and forgotten. That it is usually the most
effective, is also true.
This was something beyond that level of disobedience, something that struck to the
core of the relationship. It required the full extent of the punishment regimen, or my just
walking away. Enormous courage was required, knowing I risked everything we had
shared for years, and fortunately, continued to share, until near her passing. The
decision to punish would benefit and enrich; or destroy our relationship. The result was
unknown; however, we both understood the risk at that moment.
 Mastery requires courage, but equally, so too does slavery!
The enormity of her disobedience left him speechless. His mouth literally hung
open. The sheer magnitude of her betrayal of trust and rules left him aghast. She was
kneeling at his feet bawling like a baby, admitting what she had done, knowing in her
heart it was probably all over. She heaved and sobbed uncontrollably, trying to get the
words out. She had come to him and confessed voluntarily. She had to. The guilt and
dishonesty were eating away her soul. She could not carry on. She had made a mistake,
a huge one. That she knew without a doubt. A mistake so fundamental, so profound,
she could almost not believe she had done it herself.
It was not like her, the betrayal so fundamentally opposed to her values and
integrity. Yet she had, and here she was on her knees pouring it out, knowing life with
master was over. How could he possibly forgive her? She doubted she could if the
tables were turned, so had no right to expect he would. Her pain and tears, her self-
disappointment, and that she had hurt her master overwhelmed her, and she could go on
no further. Collapsing to his boots, she sobbed and waited knowing her neck would soon
be bare and she was devastated. She loved her master beyond anything she could
imagine and she had blown it, betrayed him and herself. She would never forgive herself
and did not deserve his. He deserved to be free of her. All she could think of was what a
good man he was and she had betrayed him. She lay sobbing and convulsing face down
on his boots waiting for the inevitable end.
He had planned a fun weekend, but that had all changed now. She had caught an
early flight home and was waiting for him when he returned from work. He was
delightedly surprised. He looked forward to relaxing with her tonight before executing
the devious plans he had for the rest of the weekend. He sat in his armchair and she
cried on his boots. Except for her sobbing, the room was silent. He blankly stared at the
top of her head, stunned in fact, but beyond that, he could not think. He let her sob while
trying to process her words. Anger was building inside and in the back of his mind that
concerned him. Thoughts were flying through his mind so fast he could not organize
and focus them. The more he heard, the more she cried, and the more heart-wrenching
pain consumed him.
“How could she? How did I so misread her? I must release her? I love her, I can’t,
I must, oh fuck this hurt!” How could she, kept searing his brain. He did not
understand. She had betrayed him, had no integrity, no honesty, she was a fake. How
could he have loved this girl? He was angry now, fuming and used all his strength to sit
still. She had disobeyed before and been punished, he knew how to manage his slave.
He had enough experience and knowledge to know he was a good master. He never
anticipated, or could fathom a betrayal so profound by his own slave. He was
unprepared for the intensity of the pain. He needed to think, to calm himself and figure
this out, but he couldn’t. The realization of what she had done paralyzed him. He just
sat, unable to act and she lay sobbing.
 He looked at his watch. Two hours had gone by and still she sobbed at his feet. He
had not spoken a word, but tears had come to his eyes and been quickly wiped away. He
knew what he had to do. There was no choice really and the pain knowing he had lost
the love of his life, his slave, brought a new set of tears. He could not make the decision
in this state. He had to think. He realized more than ever, he now needed all the skills
he could bring to bear to handle this properly. All the tenets of mastery taught over
years, were now to be tested. Realizing what he must do first, what he always did, even
though the urge to reach down and rip his collar off her treacherous neck was
overwhelming, he needed to calm himself.
He stood up and looked at her, speaking for the first time all evening. “Stay girl.”
He then left her on the floor, a broken woman who, at that moment in his mind, deserved
everything that would now come to her. He needed time to process that he would have
to release the girl who had served him so loyally, with love and whom he loved with all
he had. He could see no other course through his anger-inflamed mind.
He moved the cage into the garage. This will have to do for now, he thought.
Returning to the living room, she had not moved, but was crying again. Let her, he
thought, she deserved it, then he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her to her feet.
Holding her head waist high, he marched her bent over into the garage.
“Strip slave.”
She was heaving tears again, but obediently removed her summer shorts, blouse and
thong, leaving just his collar around her neck. Grabbing her again by the hair, he pushed
her into the cage and locked it.
“I cannot even talk to you right now girl. I will return when I can”.
And he left the garage, his slave locked naked in the cage, unable to stand, or stretch
out and that suited him just fine.
It was well after midnight when he returned. She was lying curled in the fetal
position and hearing him enter, rose to kneel. She dared not look up and that is when he
saw the cage floor was wet. She had lain in her own piss and looked awful. Her hair
was a tangled mess and her side soaked in urine.
He said nothing but the smell was awful. He unraveled the garden hose and aimed
the gun at her. Pulling the trigger he hosed the cage and slave with icy water. She
gasped, but said nothing. Finished, he opened the cage and put a small bucket, an apple
and glass of water inside, then relocked the door.
“Your toilet bucket, food and water. I am too hurt to deal with you yet” and he shut
off the light leaving her alone with the same pain he was feeling.
He paced all night, unable to sleep, trying to process what she had done. At some
point, he couldn’t remember when, he sat on the floor, leaning against the wall still
 thinking. He had fallen asleep there and awoke later, stiff but instantly aware of what
brought him there.
Saturday morning turned into midday and then evening. She had been hosed down
and fed at mealtimes, but the only words spoken were asking timidly for toilet paper.
“Betraying slaves don’t get to wipe their asses”, and he left her sobbing again.
It was late Saturday evening when it began to crystallize for him. He knew what
needed doing and got on the phone to make the arrangements. It would be risky, and he
did not look forward to it in the slightest, but it was the only way. At noon Sunday he
was ready.
Entering, he de-loused her again. What a mess. She seemed to have aged ten years,
but he knew if what he planned worked, they could get past this. He hoped so for both
their sakes. What they had was too special to throw away. He had come to that
realization the night before and worried how to overcome this without changing their
power dynamics. She had made a bad mistake, and it had taken all his energies to
understand and to deal with it. But, he had come to terms. It was a bad error, proving
she was human like all of us, and sometimes she failed. He knew how desperately
repentant she was, praying and hoping for his forgiveness.
It had taken almost two days of soul searching to realize it was up to him to guide her
past this in a way that ensured their relationship would grow, and he could still enjoy
owning her, as much as she needed to serve him. So long ago, they dedicated
themselves to working at their relationship, and so he would again now.
Late Saturday he got angry with himself, and his stubborn streak kicked in. He
would not release her. He would master her, as he promised to do. That is what masters
did. He would use this to grow her. That she had to be punished was a given, without
question. What concerned him, was controlling his own emotions well enough, so as not
to harm her. He was calm now and thought he could control himself. But, he was
concerned the pain he felt was so bad, when it came time to look into her eyes, could he
still maintain the control he knew he must. He had struggled how to punish her, yet
maintain control in the face of her deceit. Loss of self-control, he could not allow. This
needed doing properly, or their relationship would change forever. Done well though, he
would have his slave back and she would never make this mistake again.
“Master, may I speak”, she whispered.
“Yes girl.”
“What time is it Sir?”
She had been naked and caged in the dark, but for some daylight from a small garage
window for over thirty hours now.
 “It is not the day you were put in this cage, nor the next day. But it is time to deal
with you.”
This was it, she thought, she was going to be released. Through the endless hours of
confinement she had endured the depths of depression and in the dark had fantasized
about being punished and somehow forgiven, only to spiral down again, knowing she
had broken his heart. She had lain shivering and cold, forced to use the bucket, unable to
clean herself. She had remembered everyday they had been together, the joy of serving
him, the fun, the laughter, the countless creative ways he used her and knowing she had
given happiness and pleasure. She even wondered if he understood how happy it made
her to be allowed to do that. But it didn’t matter now. It was over. Soon she would be
without the one man in the world she wanted to serve. She couldn’t help it, the
tears started again.
He unlocked the cage door.
“Out slave, stand up.”
She crawled out, her limbs aching and rose to stand formally. She was still wet and
never felt so naked and alone as she did at that moment. That she had growth between
her legs humiliated her beyond reason. It was a symbol of her betrayal and the pending
loss of her master.
He hooked the leash to his collar and she padded softly behind him into the house
and her fate. There was no point in rebellion, or resistance. She deserved her release.
Of that she was sure. The cross was set up in the living room and they were not alone.
Standing to the side, in full leathers and hood holding a whip was a man. She knew
instantly who it was, recognizing the clothes. His slave Juliana was kneeling at his feet
with a First Aid kit. It sent a terrifying chill down her spine. Nothing was said. The
room was eerily quiet.
He cuffed and bound her to the cross, naked, still dripping from the hosing. Juliana
rose from her kneel and fixed the slave’s hair off her shoulders to the top of her head,
then returned to the floor. No one spoke. He circled the cross to face his slave. What a
sorry sight she was. Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. He cupped her face in his
hands and forced her to look at him. Then the cleansing began.
“I have used the word ‘betrayal’ to you slavegirl. It is a word used deliberately to
reflect the enormity of the pain I have felt all weekend. I have been thinking and
rethinking, over and over, about what you have done. At first, I was asking myself why.
Why would my slave betray me so? Then I asked myself where I failed in mastery of you,
to leave some need you have so unfulfilled resulting in your behavior. I thought a lot
this weekend, not exactly what I had planned for us.”
“You have spent the last thirty hours caged like an animal. You were kept there not
to punish you, nor as penance. You were not caged as an act of retribution. You were
confined because I had no other place for you while I tried to process what you did. You
were kept naked without amenities, lying in your filth to think, as I had to do.”
“I have barely slept all weekend and too many times to count, I wanted to march into
the garage and rip my collar off your neck and send your cheating ass away forever.
But I didn’t. It has taken hours and hours to calm myself to try and understand what you
did and what I will do about it.”
He paused to catch his breath. He was looking into the most forlorn, saddest eyes he
had ever seen. His slave was stripped bare, defenseless and totally surrendered to
whatever he decided. He knew he could not cast away the strength and goodness of this
woman, just because she proved she was as human as the next person. She made a
mistake was all.
“I am not going to use the word ‘betrayal’ anymore. Nor am I going to release you.
I understand now, you did not betray me, nor set out to deliberately disobey, though you
certainly disobeyed. I heard your words and believe them as I have always believed
you. I believe you and believe in you. I always have, and always will. You are a good
person, and you made a mistake. You took a lover on a business trip in a moment of
weakness with a few glasses of wine and with a woman who saw into your
submission and used that to her advantage. None of that excuses your breach of the
rules you live under. You are a strong, loyal woman, who acted weakly one time. That
is not betrayal; that is disobedience. You behavior requires you be punished
consistent with my structure and vision of our life, but you are not going to be cast away
because of it.”
“That you came to me voluntarily to confess, knowing how important fidelity,
honesty, and the seriousness with which I take my ownership responsibilities of you are;
and that it might result in your release as my slave, is the strong woman I love and know
you to be. That is not the character of a disloyal betrayer. That it ate you up and
destroyed faith in yourself is a testament to your character".
"But, you have breached my rules, tested and stretched my faith in you. Your
behavior forced me to decide if I should release you, or, should I master you. The easy
course is to remove my collar. But, then I remembered our pledge to each other, the day
you submitted unconditionally. We promised each other to work at our relationship, to
make it the most important thing in our lives. Late last night I decided that I could honor
that pledge and master, rather than release you, even though this is very hard and the
pain all too real. So I will master you and you may not like it.”
She had not blinked. Never had he seen her so focused, so open, so aware.
“I have spent all day making sure that by taking this path I could, in fact, punish you
in a way to achieve the benefits we have always enjoyed in the past. I wanted to make
sure you understood the pain your disobedience caused, but also to ensure I could truly
forgive you, forget this, and move on with our lives undamaged.”
 “Do you understand this slavegirl?”
He was not surprised she could only cry and nod rather than speak. He made sure
their eyes remained locked together.
“Do you understand the rule you disobeyed?”
Again she nodded, the tears flowing freely.
“Is there anything you want to say?”
He waited patiently, seeing the pain she was enduring. None of this was pleasant for
either of them, and he was sure that Michael and Juliana were uncomfortable as well, but
they understood what was being done. Her eyes remained on her master and the
humiliation she felt knowing their friends were witnessing this was acute. She did not
understand why they were here, but she would shortly.
“Girl, I am not going to release your face until this is over. I want to see into your
soul as we go through this. The hurt I have felt will not allow me to punish you myself. I
fear I would really hurt you, so have asked Michael to administer it for me.”
This time she gasped out loud. Her master was his own man, and never asked for
help, from anyone, and she had never seen him lose control. Get angry, yes, but lose
control, never, and that he feared he might, pierced her heart. She now understood the
depth of the pain she had inflicted. He had never done this before. The tears flowed
again, the guilt of hurting the master she loved too great.
“Please punish me Master. Forgive me. I am so wrong and am so sorry. I am yours
unconditionally forever. Punish me so I can serve you again with everything I have.”
“This must never happen again girl. Ever. Do you understand?”
“Never, ever again Master, I am yours only.”
“When this is over you must release yourself of your guilt. You cannot serve me if
you let this linger in your soul. When this is over, I will have forgiven you and you must
forgive yourself too. It must be that this weekend never happened, except to know I have
my slave back, and you have your master. That is what I want. You are the strongest
woman I have ever known, despite doubting yourself at times, and you are not perfect. I
need that strength beside me again and I need you to believe in yourself, and that you
are perfect for me, even with your imperfections. Free yourself, let yourself serve me, as
I want and you need to. Will you do that for me girl?”
He knew anyone not in the lifestyle would have no comprehension of the intensity
and cleansing that was unfolding here. But, he understood and so did his slave.
She whispered, “Yes Master, I promise.”
“Then I will punish you and then forgive you slavegirl.”
 He nodded and held her face tightly. Michael unfurled the whip and fifteen minutes
later, she passed out from the pain.
They cut her down. Juliana was a nurse and attended to her bleeding back. Her
wounds cleansed and dressed, she was carried to bed. It would be awhile before she
came to. She had cried out, and cried at first and he steadfastly held her close, their eyes
locked together. But it was over now. He thanked Michael and Juliana. They were one
of the few that understood. Juliana spoke first.
“You are a good master. You two were meant for each other you know.”
“No”, he responded, “I just love her and understand her. It was the only way she
could forgive herself and I could forgive her.”
“Do you think you might have really hurt her if you punished her yourself”, she
asked.
“It was a real concern. But, Michael did a wonderful job. She will be a few weeks
recovering, but there will be no lasting marks on her skin. But, she will never forget this
weekend. We may have built a greater intimacy, knowing the depth of my commitment to
her. Time will tell.”
“I’ve no doubt she will try her hardest to put this behind her as I asked, but the
reality is I am going to have to be patient. She will come around, but it will take some
time. I am just thankful that with your help we did not lose our structure. She remains
my slave with no shift in power. I worried more about that shift and her losing focus,
than anything else. She has the soul of a slave, and if she lost the ability to serve me, it
would have been the real tragedy. Then it would be I, who betrayed her.”
“Thank you both for your help. By the way Michael, that is a nice whip, if I can ever
return the favor…”
Juliana jumped in, “Isn’t it time for us to go Master?”
They all laughed and it was over. But he knew, had his slave not voluntarily come
forward admitting her disobedience, as she was required to, and if he found out later, the
outcome would have been very different. She would have lost her master, with her neck
stripped bare.

How to Responsibly Punish

To master the act of punishment, one must first remember punishment is not a
teaching technique. At best, it has a re-teaching element, but the master does not punish
what he has not taught. Do not fall into the testosterone driven wannabe trap of thinking
she knows automatically what your expectations are, all because she read a few web
 pages, or was previously owned and ‘should know’. That just leads to serial mastery;
slaves rotating in and out of your life. Discipline is for teaching; and punishment is
exclusively for disobedience.
Understand too, that in the reality of day-to-day living master-slave under the same
roof, punishment happens relatively infrequently. Unlike popular fiction, slaves are not
routinely whipped for the tiniest infraction morning, noon, and night. Certainly from
time to time, set a day aside and micro-manage her using overstated punishment for
minor errors. That serves a positive purpose to re-enforce feelings of submission, but
only when used in moderation. As a general rule of thumb, it is better to punish at the
time of the infraction, rather than waiting until later.
Punishing your slave is at best, a paradox for the master. On the one hand, when
done well, it provides unparalleled benefits for you both. On the flip side though, it is
not fun to do. It means she was disobedient and broke your rules. That is a negative
influence on your day. It means you have to stop what you were doing and focus
attention on your slave, interrupting your flow, increasing your workload for the day. At
the same time, you have to understand what she did, or did not do, figure out an
appropriate response and punishment, then re-teach your expectations. Worst of all (and
this is an aspect slaves never think of, but masters do all the time), is to then take the
time to consider whether your expectations are still relevant and realistic; and whether
you properly taught them in the first place.
Shit, that is a lot of work! You did not even cause the damn work either. No wonder
masters hate doing it. But, do not for a moment think of not doing it. Wily old veterans
never let slave disobedience go unaddressed. It sets a precedent serving no positive
purpose. If you fail to consistently punish, you are fast-tracked to vanilla hell. Make the
effort when she disobeys, and consider it your cost of slave ownership. It is part of the
responsibility accepted in collaring her.
To effectively punish, groundwork has to be laid out and prepared first. Before she
has her first chance to mess up, make sure she understands the role of punishment in
your relationship. There is no point punishing if she does not understand the purpose
and benefits of it. Not only must she know why she is being punished each time, but
also what it accomplishes. She is an adult, not a little kid, so needs to know there is a
master plan and healthy growth. You need to teach her the value of punishment first.
Teach her the benefits in the previous sections of this chapter. Make sure she not
only understands them, but also, believes in them. Any serious differences in how she
views the role of punishment within the relationship from yours, and you have a live,
pin-pulled grenade on your hands. Her failure to agree and accept your view of the role
of punishment marks a serious mismatch between you. It is probably wise to end the
master-slave dynamics at that point. If you cannot punish effectively because of her
views, then you cannot apply consequence to your structure. If you cannot apply
accountability, then you just got topped from the bottom, buddy. She readily and happily
 accepts positive re-enforcement, praise and rewards, for good behavior, but she is not
taking any negative shit from you. Good luck with that. You have no sniff of a chance
to control her. She is the grand princess. Get yourself a larger pedestal to prop her
perfect ass on. This one will not hold her ego.
So now, you are ready. She disobeyed, you recognized it, and now must act. She
knows you must, and is waiting. She wants this behind her, and to reap the much-
vaunted benefits spoken of earlier. Ok, then, it is time to walk-the-walk, to be her
master and show your expertise. Let us punish her responsibly.
There are six progressive steps to punishing a slave. Depending on the transgression,
skip some steps as redundant, and gloss over unnecessary ones. Experience teaches that
doing so at times, actually enhances the punishment, keeping it fresh and relevant.
Remember the Master’s Code of Conduct, and the adage that, The lifestyle is fun, let that
truism always guide you. Well, that certainly applies when punishing too. It does not
always have to be onerous. When it needs to be serious, make it so, but adding fun to
punishment enhances mastery.
The first few times, wisely walk her through the entire punishment progression. It
helps refine your skills, and she experiences the entire process, learning why you go to
all this trouble. The six progressive elements of punishment in order are:

1. Explain the disobedience and the rule she broke.

2. Explain your genuine disappointment and feelings that her behavior generated.
3.Provide her an opportunity to talk, and explain her behavior.
4. Re-teach her the rule and your expectations.
5. Punish her.
6. Forgive her, while ensuring she forgives herself, then everyone forgets it. Let it
go.

Explain the disobedience, where she erred and the rule broken. Take your time, and
do not let her interrupt. She will get her chance to talk. Be specific. If you cannot
articulate exactly how she erred and what rules she broke, then you have no business
punishing her. If you cannot explain it, how can she understand it? It is just common
sense.
Explain your disappointment and feelings. Some disobedience is so minor, simply
deal with it quickly, with minimal emotional angst. Other times however, there can be
real emotional hurt, along with disappointment caused by her behavior. If she forgot to
clean your reading glasses, that is one thing, and a quick blindfold for thirty seconds as
you read Braille on her bum works great. Chuckle and tell her that she now reads as well
 as you do without glasses. But, if you discover she has been discussing your personal
intimacies in chat rooms, disrespectful, and disobedient of your wishes, then you likely
are a little more pissed off. Explain that she breached your trust. Her actions affected
you, and she needs to know that.
Having now explained her disobedience and its effect on you, carry on to the next
critical step. I enjoy this one, because it reveals how well she is accepting enslavement.
For the less mature woman, it is the wiggling step, where she squirms, and tries to natter
her way out of punishment. However, to a slave, it is an opportunity to explain herself,
express how she now understands better, and any remorse she feels. She does not
contest the decision; rather, she immediately accepts it. No slave of the heart I have
come across takes the former path. They do not question that their master perceives her
disobedience. If he says she was, she was. There is no debate there, though, not for the
reason you think. That leads to an important issue requiring clarification, and a thorough
understanding.
A disobedient slave accepts that she was. It is not in question. She knows
consequences are imminent, and while likely not looking forward to the punishment act,
she welcomes the protocol and benefits of punishment. It is an understanding and
attitude she must possess, reinforced by consistent and responsible use of punishment.
Understanding that she surrendered power to decide whether she was
disobedient, regardless if she perceives she was; then she benefits from
punishment.
That raises a critical question then. What happens when she does not believe she
was disobedient?
Here is the area that takes punishment to the next level. Now, we separate the
domboys from the masters; and the fantasy girls, from slaves of the heart.
When slaves accept punishment, but do not accept they were disobedient, masters
have a time bomb on their hands. Recognize it gentlemen, it is a disaster waiting to
happen! Allowing her this perception will sabotage any master’s structure.
Consciously, or subliminally, she is aware, that at some level in her mind, she has not
given power. That is destructive. She may think she has, but believing she can decide
whether deserving of punishment is a control mechanism, and she has not. At some
point in your relationship, that perception will turn to revolt. She will tire of punishment
for disobedience she believes is undeserved, and make sure you know!
To avoid this misery, two critical conditions must always exist, one each for the
master and slave; (see, there is equality, what are you slavegirls fussing about). She
must understand that part of the power she gave was the unilateral decision of what
constitutes disobedience. He decides, not her. As for the master, cavalierly punishing
for just cuz reasons, while fine in moderation, will destroy her trust, and ability to
submit. He must use punishment responsibly, and consistently. Just cuz produces unjust
 results.
For the slave’s peace of mind, she must own it. If she does not trust her master to
lead and decide, then why did she submit? She needs faith in her decision, or deep in her
soul, it will gnaw and eat at her until consuming her. A slave of the heart knows this,
and accepts her master’s arbitrary decisions. He is not cavalier, but he has the authority.
So, explain her disobedience first, and reinforce that she accepts, not just her
punishment, but also her disobedience. She must verbalize that in her explanation.
Coach her along so she learns to do this, but do not force it from her. Coercing it
accomplishes nothing.
Sometimes, believe-it-or-not; shocking-as-it-may-seem; the tried-and-true “suck it
up princess” does not work. Friends reading that are stunned at my admission, and I am
having small heart palpitations myself.
Specific disobedience aside, she accepts in her mind that whatever she did is
unimportant, in terms of the power dynamics. Certainly, it is important on the surface
level, in that he is disappointed in her and wants his rules obeyed. Her perception and
understanding must reach deeper though. It is your right as her master, to decide if she
was disobedient, that is the core issue. Whether she thinks she was disobedient or not, in
her own mind that is secondary, and ultimately must be unimportant to her. She must
accept that she has given the power to decide, and honor that. She accepts punishment
and the benefits, not just because of disobedience, but as an act of respect for the power
she gave. She did not enter the relationship to debate whether she was disobedient. She
submits and abides honorably, even in disagreement. That is submission. That is when
she understands what offering herself truly means. That responsible masters do not take
unnecessary advantage, is the mark of quality mastery.
So there is the essence of power exchange reflected in the punishment prism, to this
point. She accepts master’s power to decide, regardless of the justification, and you have
the responsibility to make wise, responsible decisions, that move you both forward.
A slave’s opportunity to explain is the third step in responsible punishment.
Explaining herself, and expressing remorse are important, and at times, there may be
mitigating circumstances for her behavior. She must also express acceptance that she
understands the decision to punish is not hers, and respects that. In fact, she needs and
wants it. You will both enjoy the peace that brings to your lives.
Having discussed what happened, now, re-teach your expectations. It prevents
recurrences. Peace and tranquility through honesty and clarity, this is a great way to live
your life. Then punish her. You have explained and talked, given her voice an ear, and
re-taught your rule. Now actually punish her. The wonderful advantages of doing so
now, rather than earlier, is the steps leading here have effectively
calmed everyone, providing focus and perspective.
 A master’s responsibility, when administering punishment is to ensure maintenance
of your slave’s welfare, along with applying consequence to your structure. The steps
leading to actual punishment, particularly for the more emotional breaches of obedience
and faith; cleanse any overdose of testosterone, and immaturity, sometimes
accompanying so-called dominants into the lifestyle.
A key secret to effective punishment is using appropriate punishment. Devising
consequence reflective of her misbehavior is often spoken of in the BDSM community.
Many feel it is the appropriate way to punish a slave’s disobedience. It seems the right
thing to do, and it is.
At first glance, that can be onerous, and tax master’s creativity, particularly if he is
upset. There is a technique however, that simplifies the task immensely. Create a
punishment that reflects her disobedience. By analyzing which of the Three Powers of
Body, Behavior and Attitude she messed up, quickly points to an appropriate
consequence. You will see how in a moment.
With but one exception, I do not have preset, specific punishments for specific acts
of disobedience. The reason is partly the No master maintenance preached about
earlier. I do not want to be bothered conceiving, and memorizing punishments, to fit
some yet committed crime, particularly as it may never occur. That is an enormous
waste of time. More importantly though, it is invigorating to devise a punishment for
each specific infraction at the time it happens. I find enjoyment in the opportunity to re-
teach, be creative, make my point meaningfully and quite frankly, to bring humor and
laughter into the relationship. After all, the lifestyle is fun. Even wee slave girl booboos
can be fun. I like sending the message that I am thinking, creative, and care enough to
spend time and energy on her.
When possible, my preference is to devise punishment linked to her disobedience. If
she gets speeding tickets, after being trained that speeding is prohibited, make her take
the bus for a week.
If she acts like a child, treat her like one. Kids do not have sex, so, no orgasms for
two weeks. Yeah, that works! Stand her in the corner with her dress tucked into her
belt, and take a ruler to her bottom.
If she forgets to brew the morning coffee, grab her by the hair, and show her how
you percolate. Pee on her, while explaining this will do.
If she is a bitch, treat her like a four-legged one. Set out the newspaper to pee on. If
she jumps on the furniture, or begs for food at the dinner table, roll-up a newspaper and
bop her nose. Take her for a walk on a leash, do the poopNscoop thing, see how well
she likes that one. Then make sure she sniffs your dominant pal’s crotches, as all dogs
do.
My favorite though, is having her memorize the “The Dog’s Arse” poem, an old
 family hand me down, origins unknown.
The dogs once had a meeting
They came from near and far
Some came by bloody aeroplane
And some by motorcar
Before inside of city hall
Where each could take a look
They had to take their arseholes off
And hang them on a hook
Well they got inside
Every mother, son and sire
When a dirty lil yeller bitch
Got up and hollered, Fire!
Well up they jumped and out they ran
No time they had to look
They just grabbed any bloody arsehole
Off any bloody hook
They got outside, there was no fire
Which made the doggies sore
To find they didn’t have the arse
They used to have before
And that is why a dog will leave
A big fat juicy bone
And go and smell a dirty arse,
In hopes to find his own!

Oh, we ain’t finished yet, not by a long shot!

If she uses the "No" word, have her bring the "No Stick". Give her ass a good smack
and laugh. The “No Stick” gets a fuller explanation later. You will love it! Oh, unless a
slave is reading this. Naw, this is for masters, a slave would not dare.
If she gets a haircut without permission, shave her head. She will never forget that
rule again, I promise.
If she is late, make her wait on her hands and knees, her face buried into the carpet,
waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, for her punishment.
If she over boils the rice into mush, well, then you have a problem. Have her kneel
on uncooked rice, like many idiot dominants do, or you can have her serve as your
Geisha girl for the day. Any punishment that potentially injures, particularly her knees,
is just plain stupid. Knees are sensitive joints, and get enough wear and tear through life,
without adding to it, in ways potentially causing injury, or deterioration. Leave her
knees alone. Instead, command her to learn some Geisha skills. Watch her trying to tie
an obi, without committing some macabre act of self-bondage.
When she acts like an animal make her one. Keep her naked, caged, and told to bay
like a goat. Invite friends to visit your petting zoo.
If she speaks disrespectfully, that is easy, have her read aloud to you. She will like
that, until discovering it is Shakespeare, with his almost unreadable olde English ‘thees’
and ‘ye’s’ and ‘wherefores’. It is a healthy reminder of how speech changes over time,
and hers had better, because the clock is ticking.
When inappropriately dressed in jeans, what the hell, grab a knife and cut them off.
They are ruined of course, but new jeans are eighty bucks, a well-punished slave,
priceless. Her wardrobe will suffer, but then, what woman likes clothes anyway.
Then, there is the lonely time she cums without permission. Oh yes, we have all
heard this one! Lonely, because when she feels master’s wrath… there is a booboo to
cross off the list. She will not make that mistake again… ever!
This is the only preset punishment I use. It has never changed, simply because it
works, and there is no need. All slaves try to slip in an unauthorized, little old orgasm, at
some point. It happens, what the heck. Smile, have fun, and make clear, from the first
day meeting her, what happens, if she orgasms without permission. Oh, she will just
love you… or run for cover. But, she needs to know exactly what is coming; and it
won’t be her! This punishment ensures making the mistake, occurs but once.
On her back, naked of course, bind her arms and legs. Keep her thighs parted, up
and back. Use a spreader bar if necessary, just ensure her crotch is well exposed. A
gruff style and demeanor works marvelously. Create a little anxiety, it is fun, and slaves
are not reading this anyway. Grab a riding crop, growl at her, and ask the one thing she
will never want to hear again.
“How many letter in the word ‘slave’?”
 Answering meekly, she then knows how many crop strokes are going to rain down
on her clit and cunt. The pain ensures, she never cums again without permission. In
fact, when allowed to cum in the future, some slaves will want permission notarized, and
witnessed, just to make sure she heard you right. Oh, and at the end, just to ensure she
understood, remind her that next time she will be spelling slavegirl. This wordsmith
stuff is fun. Creative imaginations, gotta love it!

Be Careful What You Ask For – Invoking the Nilla-Villa

Stories abound of dominants that task slaves as punishment. They might order her to
research something, or copy recipes, perhaps index workshop plans, anything he finds
useful, as punishment for disobedience. The logic for that escapes me. Task those things
anyway, why use them as punishment? But, shucks, that’s just me. She might find those
tasks boring, so what. Who said she had to like everything? Suck it up princess. That
said, while I might not do it myself, there seems no harm suggesting it to others, as is the
case here.
It all started with a fellow new to the lifestyle. New or not, he owned two slaves, and
both lived with him. Their behavior that particular day is long forgotten, but was
disobedient, and for the first time he wanted to punish them both. He was uncertain what
to do, so telephoned me for suggestions. The fellow was an apprentice cabinetmaker, so
it seemed appropriate they do some research for him. Why not make them research the
meaning, and use of a “dovetail jig”. They could submit a written report with all the
information he could ever want. That they did not have a clue what a dovetail jig was;
added deliciously to the punishment, and became the source of much amusement.
However, never underestimate slaves, they are resourceful creatures. What followed
is a classic example of the axiom, “Be careful what you wish for!” No one could predict
the extent to which these slaves went. Bless their hearts.
First up, the slaves, knowing I was an amateur cabinetmaker also, called me pleading
for an explanation. They passionately explained their predicament, and that getting this
information was part of punishment, insisting they had to get it right. Not knowing the
source of the punishment idea, and, well, being me, a kind-hearted bastard at times, I of
course, made sure they got nothing. Happily, they confirmed the rumor of my being a
mean, and a nasty bugger. Normally I would blush at such endearing compliments, but
of course, had no idea how. Meanwhile the punishment was taking a tone of hilarity.
The girls went about, starting the research, and getting nowhere. They were aware it
had something to do with furniture making, and that was the extent of it. Who could
have predicted how their minds worked, and what came next. Copious amounts of wine
surely were involved. In any event, with a stroke of slave brilliance, they realized, who
better knows about building things, than that guy on TV. You know, that, oh, what is his
 name… you know, the guy that is always building stuff. Their state of mind seemed
somewhat influenced by the empty wine bottles. Eventually, discovering his name, off
they scurried, composing an urgent email, pleading their case.
Would they be satisfied writing the guy, and just asking what a damn dovetail jig
was, and how to use it? No, of course not. Finding it necessary, they wrote a detailed
explanation of their need for the information, sparing nothing. They were slaves of
course, and found it necessary to explain that in their opening remarks. Perhaps worried
he may not understand, and the depth of their despair, in colorful, albeit cute phrases,
they made sure to explain consensual slavery, their wonderful master, and their shameful
disobedience. Finding out what-the-hell a dovetail jig was, was critically necessary for
their continued ability to use chairs comfortably, and could he please help. They
actually begged.
To our eternal shock, these crazy-ass slaves got a reply. In polite, compassionate
words, with salutation to their master, and the information requested, they received good
luck, and best wishes from Bob Villa.

Punishing The Pain Puppy

Corporal punishment is not a necessary element of punishment. There are examples

throughout the book. There are many ways to punish without using it. If you do
however, remember, corporal is merely your style, but punishment is an absolute
necessity.
A question circulating regularly, about the use of corporal punishment is, “How do
you punish a painslut?” Many believe a masochist cannot be punished using pain. You
can, and we are coming to that. For many though, it is easier to avoid pain punishments.
In fact, understand that there are many masters who avoid using corporal punishment
altogether. There is no hard and fast rule either way, so whatever works for you, no
harm, no foul. Illustrated earlier, were many examples of non-pain punishments.
Creating them is not hard to do. Simply, identify her disobedience relating it to control
of her Body, Behavior or Attitude, and conjure away. You will have a suitable
punishment devised in no time. If it was her body, then use a body specific punishment.
The same goes for behavior and attitude. That was simple, there, all done. You have
devised effective, appropriate punishment.
However, if you prefer using corporal punishment and the infliction of pain turns
your crank, but now face punishing a cute little pain puppy, there again, no problem.
Just follow some time-tested rules. They work.
Over the knee spankings, or if you prefer more sophisticated techniques, like
whipping, or caning; the principles to punish painsluts are the same. Begin by
 recognizing the profound difference, between an erotic spanking, and a punishment
spanking. Now, if this is just role-play and bedroom fun, ignore all this. Just whack
away and have fun.
The difference between the two however, is something you need to experience, and
learn. Even painsluts, when subjected to punishment pain, profoundly know the
difference. Their mind is in an entirely different place.
It comes down to motivation. A slave receives punishment because her master is
disappointed in her. That is what motivates him to do it. It is not fun, or enjoyable. He
must punish to maintain any semblance of validity to his power structure. So the slave
has disappointed her master. She is upset, as anyone would be in disappointing someone
respected. It is a natural human reaction. Adding to her misery is knowledge of having
breached her core need for obedience, a driving personality force, as identified in the
SODS Principle. So, before even beginning punishment, the mood is different,
decidedly so.
Now incorporate three strategies into the event. Do not ramp her. There is no warm-
up. Make it fast, hard, and coarse. Allow her no opportunity to prepare the skin, or
nervous system, (endorphins), for what you inflict. Do not be a candy ass. If you are
going to use corporal punishment, then do it hard and do it fast, before her body can
react and adjust to the pain. Be faster than her body. Make it intense and short. Start
and end quickly, and be harsh. The kinder, gentler approach will not work.
If you are uncomfortable with any of this, then do not use corporal punishment. It is
simple really. But if you are going to whip, or cane her, then let fly. Welt her
immediately. Hit the inside upper parts of her thighs. It hurts there. If you are going to
spank her, make sure you hit where the bum cheek meets the upper thigh. If your hand
does not sting, you are not hitting hard enough. Four, or five minutes is enough. End it
before she floats away on you.
Do not be rhythmical. Use irregular timing, and do not let her identify a pattern of
expectations she can climb into. Use words to your advantage, and alter the way to talk
to her from regular play. Do not let her enjoy this. Do everything to disrupt your habits,
and her standard play expectations. If she flies to happy-happy land with eyes close,
make her keep them open. If she is a screamer, make her be quiet. If she is a thrasher,
prohibit movement. This is not for fun, and you want her knowing that. Talk to her
when you hit her. Make sure she knows why this is happening, and that you find it
distasteful. That more than anything will keep her from floating to sub-space.
You can see, there is a profound difference between erotic S&M use, and S&M
punishment. The key is being different. Harsh, fast, irregular are effective techniques,
now add some more. Is there an impact device she hates? Perhaps, a place on her body
she does not like struck. With a sweet smile and ‘Suck it up princess, I am doing this
for us”, while reserving that tool and spot for punishment, works delightfully well. You
 can definitely punish a painslut using pain, and she will know the difference well
enough, if you master the skills.

Addressed already, at length, is the final step in the progression of administering

responsible punishment. It is time to forgive her transgression, ensure she has forgiven
herself, and then forget about it all. It is over, move on. Do not ever throw this back in
her face. You will breach everything you stand for if you do, and will surely, either lose
your master-slave dynamic, or your slave. Doing so is childish, and certainly not part of
mastery. I occasionally, will reference bygone transgressions in passing, but always in a
humorous, positive way. “Pet, don’t forget, you can beg to cum”. If using humor, just
be very sure she recognizes it, and that no subliminal negative message creeps into your
comment. Usually though, you are better off leaving it alone. Much better off.

"Ignoring" As Punishment

Ignoring, or abandoning your slave, as a punishment technique, is another

widespread popular practice in the BDSM community. Many dominants proclaim it as
their primary punishment method. Is it a wise and responsible act, to those building a
relationship, intended to endure? Many involved in the TPE niche, find it is very
disturbing, if not destructive. Now, some folks may enjoy the activity as part of
top/bottom fantasy fun, and sexual fetish. If so, and that is the extents of it, knock
yourself out and have fun.
Consider though, the ramifications of ignoring a slave of the heart, who has
committed her life to yours, perhaps on an absolute level. How responsible is the
technique, as a serious punishment element? Ponder seriously, what ignoring does to her
slave headspace. Lest there be, any confusion, telling your slave you are going for a
walk, to calm yourself, returning then, to deal with her disobedience, is not ignoring her.
By ignoring, or abandoning her, think about the message you are sending. As her
master, in a cowardly way, you are clearly telling her, in unstated words, that you are
emotionally immature; you do not deal with issues, and that you prefer to run from
them. That while your talk speaks of her being your treasured, precious slavegirl, your
actions make it clear, you can ignore her, and effectively live without her. Be it for an
hour, a day, week, or more, your actions convey that she really is not that important.
Clearly, she hears the double shithood message. Through your actions, she realizes she
is not that hot shit to you, and also that you are full of shit. Return to Volume I and re-
read the very first page of the book. Clearly stated is What you say, is not always what
she hears. Ignoring her may not be intended to cause shit, but that is the smell wafting
to her nose, whether you like it, or not.
By deliberately ignoring your slave, you immediately, even if only to a small degree,
and perhaps only subconsciously at first, begin to create doubt in her mind. She begins
 to wonder how important she is, and as importantly, why you take a passive-aggressive
approach to problem solving. Distrust and uncertainty creep into her mind, and hence
your relationship. Small fibers of the trust cable break and snap. Perhaps, not enough to
end the relationship at first, or ever, but there is doubt sewn. Is that really your
intention? Do you want your commitment doubted and questioned to any degree? That
is what ignoring her for any period does. It is a deliberate infliction of emotionally hurt.
Perhaps it is the same pain her disobedience caused you, but that is an unworthy
response from a master. When she is disobedient, punish her, certainly, but leave the
retribution element out. There are better, more effective punishments.
For any slaves reading here, be aware of any prospective dominant using ignoring as
punishment. Ask them if they do. It is a major run-away-as-fast-as-you-can red flag.
Unfortunately, too often, boys will be boys, and so will some middle-aged men. Caveat
emptor, buyer beware!
Punishment is a lengthy and involved topic, with many aspect and subtleties. Doing
it well really is an acquired skill. It takes work, and maturity to realize the attending
benefits. Ultimately, though, it is a crucial element of mastery, in a relationship intended
to endure. As unpleasant as it is, punishment provides unique benefits amidst the chaos
of life’s human imperfection. Just always remember, use punishment for disobedience
of taught rules, rituals and protocols. Do not use it to teach. Until she has learned your
expectations, do not punish. Arbitrary application of punishment leads to long-term
mistrust.
Mastery is not a game of absolute power randomly applied, it is a sustainable
structure designed for a fulfilling life, between consenting adults. Perhaps you
understand now why it is the singular, uniquely defining characteristic, of the master-
slave lifestyle.

Praise & Acknowledgement - The Slave Does Well

Certainly, punishment is part of the structure and consequence equation. It is a

slave’s brain cramp, kegel exercise, if you will. When performed well, it strengthens,
and ultimately provides wonderful pleasure. Fortunately, disobedience, and thus
punishment, happens relatively infrequently, in the grand scheme of things. Far more
often, and delightfully so, is the positive service a slave provides. That it is her duty and
desire to do so is a given, but it is not automatic, and thus needs recognition and reward.
This is the fun part!

He smiled across the booth at the slave, quietly smiling sipping coffee.
“But what are your expectations, if your master comes home to the dishes done
 perfectly, as he asked?
There was no hesitation, her answer immediate.
“A kiss on the greeting, but nothing more for an expected duty Sir.
“See, that is the real question, pet. Understanding disobedience is easy, but what
are the slave’s expectations if they perform well, that really gets into who she is.”

The popular Me-Me-Me slave persona flourishing in the lifestyle, will not like this.
Her pedestal is in jeopardy. We will see if she can be happy in a cage, because she is
about to find out this is not all about her. That a master rewards and praises is good
management. It is fun and exciting, steeped in good humor and smiles. It is not
necessarily an obligation however.
A slave expecting, if not demanding, constant praise and rewards, has some
unreasonable expectations, or understanding of slavery. She performs her duties because
she is committed. It makes her happy. Owned by a responsible master, who leads well,
is what she sought. Knowing she obeyed is sufficient. Obedience is easy and self-
rewarding. Knowing her tasks enrich, organize, and please, turns her crank. Sure, she
understands it is difficult at times, but on the whole, it tickles her clitty. Her master
never commands to deceive, malign, or destroy. She thus, does not need, or expect
praise, or reward. Fulfilling her duty is enough.
That said, praise and reward her. She is your treasure. The happiness in her eyes is
worth the effort. Theory aside, she needs, deserves and earned praise and reward. Do
not be cheap with it.

The Laugh Rule

A great joy of mastery is managing negative situations that arise in all our lives, into
positives. It is wonderfully satisfying, instilling a sense of accomplishment. A master’s
arsenal is full, when possessing this skill. Stimulating the creative juices is also
enormously satisfying, and wonderfully beneficial. A slave’s disobedience,
notwithstanding the positive benefits of punishing her, ultimately, was a negative
moment, in both the master and slave’s life.
It need not be.
The style of mastery practiced, reflects your personality. She submitted, so
obviously she likes that style too. Whether you want a dark, serious, authoritarian,
no nonsense style, or lighter type, with a blend of humor, but no less rigid, is your
choice. But, the lifestyle is fun, and creating situations and rules to reflect that, usually
enhances your overall authority and credibility. The introduction of humor into your
 control mechanisms definitely makes the lifestyle sustainable, without loss of control.
There are many ways to do that of course, but one worth noting, which also
addresses negative moments of disobedience, is here to steal and use. It is my all-time
favorite. This pertains to punishment, but, it is right up there with the Twenty-four Hour
Rule, for importance. It is the “Laugh Rule”.
The Laugh Rule evolved from a discussion with a dominant friend near Atlanta,
Georgia many years ago. After explaining the rule, I offered to buy it, borrow it, or he
could give it to me, but if necessary, I would steal it. Regardless of conveyance, it was
now mine, and immediately meshed into my structure. We laughed, and laughed, and I
have used it ever since.
The rule is simple.
If your disobedient slave can make you laugh, in context of her disobedience, then
she can ask for invocation of the Laugh Rule. Permitting it, (and by then you are usually
laughing your ass off), then skip to the “Forgive and Forget” portion of punishment. It
is over. There is no further punishment. Well, almost over, you are both still laughing,
usually hysterically, but she is forgiven. It is a wonderful rule. You will not take
yourself too seriously, and it keeps fun in the relationship. Punishment need not always
be dark.
Bear in mind an important component however. Just because she asks for the rule,
does not mean she gets it. You have to grant it, though in the saga of the “Missing
BenWa Ball”, there was no choice. Grant it, or die laughing.

Mind Fuck #10 - The Case of the Missing BenWa Ball

Tears streamed down her face. The sobbing gasps for air approached
hyperventilation, and her master was no better. The two of them were foolishly crying
and panting, but it was hysterically funny, and neither could do a damned thing about it
“Please Master, please! Zee Laugh Rule! Zee Laugh Rule Boss!”
She rolled over crying into the rug, pounding her fists and laughing harder. She was
as naked as the day she was born, in hysterical fits, trying to get the words out, but the
harder she tried, the harder they both laughed. And, it all started so innocently, with
some stolen afternoon delight, in the middle of the week.
They were master and slave, well along on the path to a collaring. She felt owned,
and he worked hard to ensure that continued, and she grew to an unconditional offering.
They did not live together yet, but she was learning his all-inclusive Three Power niche.
Arriving before lunch, she presented as taught, cuffed and naked, but for his oversized
dress shirt, kept in the change room. Delighted, he was ready with a sleeve of tricks.
 Unquestionably, his S&M skills deepened their intimacy. Yet he knew they were just
tools, to explore her mind and soul. That was the purpose, to explore in the here and
now. Keeping her growing and in anticipation was his rush. He called it fun, she called
it mastery, regardless, it was who they are.
Presenting silently she waited, eyes down, unknowing. He loved this part, when
anticipation worked her mind and moistened her pussy. She was soaked, probably had
been driving over. Smiling inwardly, he launched, surprising her yet again. Without so
much as a “Hi how are ya”, she was on her knees, ground face first into the sofa and
impaled. He fucked her ruthlessly. Responding, gasping, moaning, squeezing, she gave
as much as she received. Suddenly she desperately needed to cum. He would not let
her. It was going to be a long afternoon and she could cum later. He however, did.
Within minutes, she was bound to the whipping post, now naked, displayed
obscenely, aroused, her thighs covered in essence. The trip to happy-happy land started
the moment she felt the knife between her legs. She endured his ebb and flow; intense
and intimate; front and back; up and down, until so far gone, she had no recollection of it
ending. The clamps and weights, the string of pearls run relentlessly between her legs,
the crop, paddle, floggers, she remembered none of it. He would tease her later about
wasting his time if she was not going to pay attention. Random passionate kisses kept
her reeling. The totality of intimate passion and raw sexuality was her reality.
My gawd, he thought, how she reveled in the power of the alpha male. Sinking
deeper with the magic of the leather tawse, rubber truncheon, leather wrapped military
stick, and canes; finally giving way to the lashing whip. Flying on endorphins and
adrenalin, in a cocoon of submission, secured by master’s trust, she understood
submission.
Later, she had no recollection of the couch, the spanking, or how she ended up over
his lap. She did remember his soothing voice and fingers. She remembered his finding
her spot, and massaging it. The sudden intense need, she also remembered, and the
permission growled in her ear. Both were instantly soaked in a tidal wave of feminine
ejaculate. She gushed as never before.
For thirty minutes, she lay on his lap, oblivious. Slowly stroking her hair, he brought
back and finally kissing her, she smiled and opened her eyes.
“Goodgirl. You were beautiful pet. It was breathtaking to see you so obedient and
free.”
She could talk again and smiled wearily.
“Thank you Master. That was incredible, but why did you stop? I can take more
than ten minutes.
He laughed.
 “Yes, I suppose you can. But you know me, Mister-Ultra-Conservative.”
He smirked.
“It’s after two o’clock. You had almost three hours worth. Believe me, I didn’t flip
the clocks forward.”
She just blinked, completely surprised.
“And it isn’t over girl. There is a surprise inside you.
He cackled and gave her the Cheshire Cat grin.
There are two chiming porcelain BenWa balls playing ying yang deep inside your
puss, slavegirl. Big ones too. And they make a lot of noise when jiggled.”
He laughed at her surprise and grabbed her hand as she went to feel them.
“No, no girl, Nice try. No digging for them, but you can stand and squat and dance
them out for me.”
Now he was laughing hard at the shocked disbelief on her face. She stood up,
giggling. It was so tempting to put her fingers inside to feel if they were really there.
There was no feeling them, even though each was almost two inches in diameter. She
hopped and jumped like a Mexican jumping bean trying to expel them. They both were
laughing.
“You go girl!” and they laughed harder.
Futility gave way to despair and she pled with him.
“Please Master, please… I can’t feel them at all.”
He was roaring laughter now, but only little giggles were coming from the slave.
Worry and a dollop of embarrassment creased her face.
“Oh go ahead girl, pull them out before they get lodged so far up you I will need a
miner’s hat and flashlight to get them back.”
Now he was really laughing as she probed and poked around, hunting for them. Her
face was getting an odd, anxious look. She was not sure if he was mind-fucking her, or
that there were really two inside her.
“OMG, you’re kidding right? I can’t feel them. You didn’t really put any in did
you?”
He was too busy laughing at how red she was getting with her little self-fisting act to
answer, so just held up two fingers. She was half squatting in front of him, no modesty
left at all as she probed, her face beet red and anxious.
 “I found one”, she squealed, delighted with herself and half pulled, half pushed one
out holding it up like a glistening trophy.
They were both laughing now.
“Now the other one girl. Go ahead, fetch.”
And she tried and tried, finally collapsing on her knees with her head on his lap
looking up with sad puppy eyes.
“You’re fucking with my head, aren’t you? There is no second one is there? You’re
playing with me.”
He pinched her nose laughing at her.
“Sure there is girl, don’t you believe me? I’d never lie to you, you know that, now
fetch your ball little doggy, before I have to take you the veterinarian and let you explain
what’s missing and where.”
Well that did it, now she was digging in earnest, sweat forming on her face as she
used three fingers, frantically exploring every nook and cranny of her pussy, but alas
no ball. He suddenly went serious on her. He loved so fucking with her head.
“Pet you realize what the talk of the hospital will be if you don’t find that ball. The
nurses and doctors will be telling the story of the prim and proper lady who’s twat was
so big she lost her ball in there. Not to mention how embarrassed you will be when these
cute young docs are fishing around and see all the bruises on your arse. You better find
it girl, this is a small town and you’ll have trouble walking the streets after this fine mess
you have us in Ollie.”
“Oh gawd, you are fucking with me. There is no second ball. Please tell me there
isn’t.”
She pleaded but did not stop rummaging and hunching, pushing and searching the
deep dark depths. He just laughed and laughed.
“There isn’t one, you are definitely fucking with me. I know it!”
“Fine, fine, don’t believe me then, don’t trust me, that’s fine, miss-potty-mouth”, and
he laughed some more.
She was on to him and started to laugh too.
“You do that to me every time. Now I need to get dressed, I have that meeting to go
to. May I get dressed please?”
“You’re sure you don’t want to go to the Emergency Room pet? Get that thing out of
you. I’d hate to think anyone could hear it chiming away and wondering what that noise
was.”
 She wasn’t buying into it anymore.
“Very funny Master”, but she was laughing.
“Git then girl, go get dressed.”
It was not two minutes later he heard the clang from the bathroom, then the blood
curdling scream. It sounds like she found it, he thought, and then she was racing into the
room, still buckass naked, panic all over her face. He knew he had probably seen the last
of that BenWa ball.
“OMG, OMG, OMG, there was a second one”, she screamed.
“OMG, it went down the toilet!”
And that was it, he was on the floor. He laughed so hard, and she started laughing
too.
“You better beg your sorry arse off slavegirl, you’ve broken so many rules I can’t
count them all”, he said between tears rolling down his face.
“You didn’t trust me, you thought I lied to you, you lost my benny, you’ve probably
plugged my toilet and by now the thing is probably floating down the Niagara River
headed over the Falls to boink some American on the head and kill them. I’m going to
be charged with manslaughter and probably littering too.”
They were both in hysterics now.
“And to top it off, it will cause an international incident and the U.S. will invade
Canada and the country will be gone, all because you didn’t trust me.”
“Stop Master, I am going to pee myself”, she cried and laughed.
“My bennies gone”, he wailed in mock tragedy and they laughed some more.
“I just can’t believe I couldn’t feel it. I sat down to pee and suddenly it plopped into
the toilet”, and they broke down again.
“Beg bitch, you are going to need a new ass after punishment for this laundry list of
broken rules.

And that, is how it came to pass, that warm summer afternoon. She pleaded for the
Laugh Rule. It was granted, knowing death by laughter was, but moments away.
It was a year later, when the toilet did back up, and thankfully for the slave, she was
not home, when the plumber pulled this rusty old ball from the pipe, still chiming away,
in glorious celebration of its previous life, and the Laugh Rule.
 Chapter IV - Humiliation
Should a master’s repertoire include the use of humiliation? Much debate exists
about that very question. Are there benefits, when viewed through the prism of
sustainable master-slave relationships, or is it all abusive, ego-driven nonsense?
Ultimately, it is your choice. Humiliation is highly erotic for some, used as but another
twist, enhancing bedroom hi-jinks. But, can humiliation serve more than boners in wet
panties?
In the previous chapter, we examined how important constructive use of punishment
is in the master-slave niche. Explored, were how the skills brought to bear, directly
contribute to the positive, or negative effect, on the master-slave dynamic. Humiliation
is yet another of the lifestyle “hot button” issues and an oft-misunderstood tool. Using
humiliation, requires the same dedication to a master’s oath, and acceptance of the
responsibilities of a slave’s well being, as any other important issue. That poor innocent,
vulnerable slave girl of yours, deserves it.
Many masters and slaves alike, unfortunately, often reject humiliation, out of hand,
before understanding it. Pre-conceived notions are usually the reason why. Before
summarily executing its use, learn about the potential benefits. Used well, it can
contribute positively to your structure. If after examining it, and finding it lacking,
distasteful, or destructive for your style, then so be it. At least you are wiser, and likely
made the right choice for you.
Many reject humiliation out of hand, because of the common perception, that it
provides nothing more than a diabolical platform to domineer your slave. In those
hands, it is an immature abuse of power. If practiced from that platform, the results
destroy, or limit a slave’s self-worth, never a good thing. When that occurs, the negative
public perception of humiliation is validated. Used as such, it is not, but a bully
demonstration of master insecurity. Masters, and you, are better than that.
Producing growth from positive use of humiliation is doable however, with healthy
motivation, and acceptance of responsibility, yet again, the key. As so often in this
lifestyle, the master dictates the results. Deriving any benefit at all from humiliation,
requires encouragement of her self-worth. Know what humiliation is. You are going to
act deliberately, to cause feelings of humility, and potentially embarrassment in her.
You may even do it in the extreme, and that can backfire, with profound effects, unless
done with skill. At first glance, that appears to be a paradox. How can humiliation
cause growth?
It starts with words. Know that your words have profound effect for her.
Humiliation takes skill to do well, but can re-direct her thinking to different perspectives
when needed. Use it and as you will see, it can have amazing results.
 First is a simple example of the importance of words.
Verbal Humiliation (Abuse):
“You stupid cunt.”
Responsible Verbal Humiliation:
“Your behavior makes you look like a stupid cunt.”
The first sentence is a flagrant example of poor mastery and irresponsible use of
humiliation. It does nothing, but demean and belittle your slave. It causes humiliation
and takes a chunk out of her self-esteem. Worse yet, for the master, she sees through
your unthinking bully approach, and that you acted to undermine your own credibility.
She knows she is not a stupid cunt. That you expressed it, then, frays your trust bond.
Nothing positive comes from sentences like that. She might even think you are a
bullheaded asshat. It would be better if she thought you only act like a bullheaded
asshat. She is still training you though.
The second approach is entirely different, and an example where very likely, she
feels a degree of humiliation, but good can come of it. Understand though, this is not
about calling her names, a juvenile practice at best. The sentence said,
“Your behavior makes you look like a stupid cunt.”
It brings to her attention, that whatever she did has consequence, and conveyed
through her actions, is the notion that perhaps, she is not the brightest lamp in the room.
But, it focuses on her behavior, not her self-worth. That is a fundamental and
profound difference, and she needs to learn it. Here then, humiliation can be used to
illustrate bad behavior, without undermining her confidence and self-esteem. It is
effective, but explanation is required. She cannot mishear your words and perceive a
diminished worth to you. She likely will become angry and rebellious, distrustful of
you, or her self-image will take a beating; not the good kind of beating either. Those, are
catastrophic effects, should any occur.
Stress that behaviors can be corrected, and that she would not be owned, did you
think her a stupid cunt. It is as simple as that. You cannot act to destroy a slave’s self-
worth, either deliberately, or by carelessness.
Humiliation also works to refocus slavery. When she loses sight, of whom she is;
humiliation is a beneficial tool in your arsenal. When feelings of debasement,
humiliation, and anger, resulting from difficult acts, or tasks you demand, send her mind
reeling, carry on, and let those feelings come out. They serve a purpose.
Calmly explain that producing those feelings, generated from the act you demanded,
occurred because she lost focus on her commitment to slavery. What she felt, is not
what you saw. What she felt, while real, came from a false premise. By losing touch
 with who she is, she created those feelings by forgetting she has given herself to her
master, and his pleasure. Where she felt humiliation, you saw a dedicated, obedient
slave in a difficult situation. Stress her obedience, that you are pleased, even delighted
that she demonstrated her commitment in the face of personal discomfort. You
deliberately demanded this of her, to illustrate where focus had deviated from her needs.
What you saw, was not an embarrassed and humiliated woman, but rather, a slave
dedicated to doing best for her master. Tell her that, passionately, deeply, from your
heart. Obedience and trust are more enduring to love between you, than her awkward
feelings of the moment.

She was shy by nature, and only a week into sexual intimacy with her dominant, she
was on edge. New relationships did that to her. Workouts, good nutrition, and attention
had kept her body trim, but to her eyes, time was taking a toll. She saw imperfections
others did not, and grimaced inwardly when he looked. While not inexperienced, she
had limited partners in the past and secretly harbored feelings of sexual inadequacy.
Made more profound was knowing he had vast experience comparatively, and his skills
turned her on immensely. She was happy though, and tonight he was coming over.
“Lie down on the floor next to the wall, please pet. Yes, on your back, legs to the
wall… good girl.”
“Knees up, now spread them wide… good girl.”
She was blushing now.
When he placed the cushion beneath her head and shoulders, she could see herself
clearly reflected in the mirrored wall, wantonly displayed. Her pussy flowered open and
even though she was not, her tummy curled and looked fat to her self-deprecating eyes.
This was embarrassing her.
He sat down beside and kissed her.
“Now girl, masturbate for me. Just your fingers. As if you are alone, how you like it
most, but never ever take your eyes off that mirror pet. Watch yourself. Show yourself
the little slut that I love.”
Never had she watched herself cum before a mirror, and certainly never when
watched. She was not at all sure she could do this, and wanted to cry.
But he knew, their intimacy would grow tonight. There was method to his madness,
beyond the sheer eroticism of watching her.
When she came, he choked her, and she gushed, spraying the mirror! Not once, not
even twice, but a veritable river.
Cradled into his arm now, still naked on the floor, eyes closed, she was embarrassed
beyond words. She had sprayed like a stray cat. “Oh my gawd”, she was mortified.
 “Pet, that was beautiful. Look at the mess you have made. It is the most beautiful
mess I have ever seen. I love you more than I could ever imagine. You are so precious
to me.”
And, she knew it was all good.

Humiliation can be fun, and some folks, particularly slaves, find it erotic. It is, but
another way to enjoy her. With your creative juices in high gear, explore her sexuality
and sensuality. Use your imagination. Know her “hot buttons”, to create simple
scenarios, which inevitably, grow intimacy together. Be sure though, to do it with
relevancy.
If you want to humiliate for erotic purposes, then do it believably. If your slave is
five feet tall, weighing ninety-five pounds, there is no point in telling her she has a fat
ass. She does not, and it will not work. She is on to you, and it will not produce any
feelings of humiliation. What you devise must be relevant, for her. Make it believable.
Indeed then, teaching, and erotic play are two valuable benefits of humiliation, in a
master-slave relationship. It serves a purpose and is fun. When used responsibly, it
deepens intimacy. Achieving your goal of exploring all her sexuality and sensuality is a
promise you made, and here is but one more tool to do it.
Then of course, there is humiliation of a different sort. These are mindfucks that
work on any slave. Just go to her favorite store and set it up with the manager. Make
sure the cashier has a lineup though.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your card has been declined!”
When she has recovered from that, take her to the next fetish night wearing granny
panties. Make sure she hikes them up to just under her boobs, has a nice, prominent
cameltoe, but with a saggy-baggy panty-bum. She will just love you. Sort of!

Mind Fuck #11 – "Chattel"

One of the finest examples of erotic humiliation, was a demonstration at a

BDSM convention years ago. Performed by a committed master-slave couple, they
obviously enjoyed the practice in their daily lives.
“Up on the table, now girl.”
Not speaking, she simply obeyed. Knowing what was to unfold, likely she could not
speak anyway. One hundred sets of eyes watched, as she hiked herself onto the table.
Sitting still, eyes tightly closed, and brow furrowed, her legs dangled from the table. She
was a small sprite of a thing, dressed in a shapeless Granny Clampett gown. The room
hushed, everyone focused now. How she would react to the humiliation? How would he
 do it, and what would happen?
Four giant sized men entered, ominously surrounding her.
“These gentlemen are here to hold the slave and keep her from hurting herself” her
master began, speaking to the audience.
“She has a problem that when she cums, she convulses and won’t be able to stay on
the table.”
All eyes glued to the slave now. Her head started to wobble on her slim neck. Her
master’s words already had an effect. She was flushing, and began to drop. That one
hundred strangers knew she convulsed when cumming, produced the humiliation he
wanted.
“Lift her legs up and put her feet on the table please gentlemen. There is no need for
modesty, push her dress up, so everyone can see her twat. Much better, thank you.”
“Now the problem with my slave folks, is that she has an enormous cunt for such a
tiny woman. It is amazing really. Things get lost in there. No one would believe it, if I
didn’t show them.”
The giants held her legs apart, despite her wishes. All eyes stared between them.
Flying and dripping, she wanted to die. Even spectators at the back, knew it would not
take much to make her cum. She was right on the edge. Knowing she would mingle and
socialize with these people, over the coming days, intensified her humiliation and
arousal.
“Show them slave, hold your lips apart and open your hole so everyone can see.”
The men tightened their hold. Her head flopped almost uncontrollably. No one, but
perhaps her master, knew the violence about to erupt. With instinctual obedience, she
pulled her lips apart.
“Farther girl, show them how big your hole is.”
You could hear a pin drop. Her predicament was mesmerizing. Women watched,
clenched their thighs, unknowingly rocking in their chairs. The slave obeyed and
stretched herself open.
“Look at it people. Have you ever seen a bigger cunt? It is sloppy, wet, and gaping
open. Look closely, and you can see her cervix.”
Someone gasped in the crowd.
“Who wants to feel her cunt? It is big enough for your hand, even your arm. Does
anyone want to touch it?”
The giants had to hold her up now. She was wobbling and swaying. Shivers coursed
 her body. A mask of beet red embarrassment and clenched eyes, affirmed her agony.
Many onlookers were embarrassed with her, but no one moved, silence reigned.
“C’mon folks, I even have a box of latex gloves to protect you. Does anyone want to
feel that big thing?”
No one breathed.
“I didn’t think so. It is rather disgusting. It’s so big, too sloppy, and it’s hard to feel
any pleasure when you’re inside."
“I will try”, came a voice from the crowd.
“Really? You’re sure? Well, excellent. You are a brave soul. Come on up.”
The fellow worked himself through the crowd. More than a few in the crowd
thought him a pervert, just wanting to cop a feel of this juicy morsel. But, they were
wrong. He understood exactly the nature of humiliation, and was only too happy, to kick
it up a notch. The crowd waited, but not long.
“Here is a glove, put it on, and tell us what you think.”
The stranger snapped it on, then knelt between her legs and peered in. Everyone
heard him sniff. The slave, neared apoplexy, mortified beyond reason.
“Does it smell bad too? Go ahead, feel her. What do you think?”
Gazing at her cunt, hand poised just inches away; he hesitated.
Suddenly snapping the glove off, slapping it on her thigh, he jerked to his feet.
“My gawd, I can’t touch that filthy thing! It smells horrible. It’s fucking huge”, he
bellowed.
The slave convulsed. Without a touch, she erupted with violence, the likes of which
no one imagined.
Eight hands grappled with her limbs as her ass rocketed off the table, in one sublime
convulsion after another. Jaws dropped at the furry pent up in one so tiny.
It would not end. On and on it went, unabated, her master now growling words at
her. He would not stop, she could not. He flicked her clit once, and sent her rocketing
into another series of convulsions. It was the most beautiful, and amazing thing to
watch. Slaves had tears in their eyes. Men were slack jawed. The intimacy and courage
on display between this master and slave, was so very, obvious to all.
Humiliation can be fun!
 Chapter V - Topping From The Bottom
Topping from below, as briefly described earlier, is a term bandied about and used
within the BDSM community. It describes acts of a slave exerting control over their
master. Essentially, it identifies and labels activities behaviors, deeds, and attitudes, in
areas she had previously consented and given her master authority to control, but now
acts to influence, or control herself.
That is what topping from below is. Here is what it is not.
To the confusion of many, when a master fails to exercise his responsibilities, he
abdicates the right to claim his slave is topping him. That he may claim she is topping is
immaterial. If he is not enforcing his structure, then she is not topping, so should stop
making false claims, or assigning blame that is rightly his.
Power vacuums cannot exist, and if he has created one by failing to lead and make
the decisions entrusted to him, then she will by default. Do not blame her for taking
control, and do not accuse her of topping. Someone has to make decisions and lead,
when the master will not. So, the concept of legitimate ‘topping from below’ can only
exist in the presence of responsible mastery.
Context declared, topping does exist and needs recognition as such. That slaves top
from time to time, is a given. When the master-slave relationship is healthy, it occurs
usually because she does not realize she is doing it, and it is relatively rare. You must
teach her what topping is. When she is unaware, then responsibility falls on you to
recognize and deal with it. When happening repeatedly, it is a clear indication a problem
exists between you. The issue causing it needs attention, as well as the topping
behavior itself.

“More Please Sir” – Pouting Is Topping

What an incredible scene. Ninety minutes of intense connection, witnessed by close

friends. It was the perfect ending to a delightful evening.
It occurred, visiting friends, at their lakeside home, for a summer weekend. That my
slave now found herself marinated, tenderized, rump roasted, stewed and devoured, in a
sauce of sadism and diced endorphins, was a feast for everyone’s senses.
Three lifestyle committed couples, sharing an evening and respite from the vanilla
world, free in who they are. Opportunities to use her like tonight, did not often present
themselves. She was comfortable with everyone, which helped, when he took her on the
voyage. Serving as she had, openly and without worry from prying eyes, or judgmental
attitudes, she had reveled in the evening. Being naked, but for leather cuffs and collar,
brought not the slightest angst. The other slaves were too.
It started, when she heard his voice, and the quiet words.
“I am going to use you, pet. Prepare yourself”.
She knew the expectations, sitting quietly on the floor, eyes closed, focusing
inwardly, on her needs, her slavery, and him. Though known only to them, she began to
float right then.
Cuffed to the hanging spreader bar, he whipped her. She was the last used that night,
so there was the luxury of time. Ramped and ready, she followed the ebb and flow, the
intensity and brutality, the reserve and intimacy. In that special place, the world shrunk,
to just them.
In the coming days, she would be sore, but that was not the focus tonight. She had
earlier lost grip of the spreader, and was hanging by the special cuffs. They kept her
upright and safe. Her legs were gone, rubber now, reduced to useless appendages.
The staccato words growled infrequently touched her soul. “Breathe”, “Focus”,
“Come with me girl”, was her world. There was no “You are safe”, no “Goodgirl”, it
was not that kind of place. For over an hour, she floated in sub-space, lost in him, her
slavery, all magnified by the drugs her body produced. Though appearing dead, she
was anything but. Never more alive, or in love, cherished, or treasured, but more than
anything, she was profoundly accepting slavery.
Holding under her arm, he cut her down. She lay prone on her tummy. There would
be no end yet, and he took another heavy flogger to her back and bottom. Two-handed
fury rained down. She remained lost in the rhythm, until he could swing no more. It
was deep, her mind past pain, endurance, and conscious thought. She just existed, for
him. It was breathtaking, and he could not love a woman more.
It was a murmur at first, a grunt perhaps. With an ear to her mouth, he listened. She
had been very still, but for the twitching.
“Good girl. Beautiful, pet. Good girl. A treasure, slavegirl. Good girl, I am proud
of you.”
She didn’t stir and then the murmur again.
“Mmm…”
“Mmor…”
“You want more girl?”
A small smile flickered across her lips.
 “Good girl”.
The whip rained down relentlessly, passionately, in a unique combination of
compassion, and sadism, for another thirty minutes.
Hours later, the sun was up, and he wandered sleepily into the kitchen.
“Would you like a coffee, Sir?”
“Yes please. It is too damn early to be up.”
She smiled agreement and presented a steaming cup.
“It’s just you and I Sir, the rest are still asleep.”
He groaned and sipped.
“Delicious pet, thank you.”
“Is your slave ok Sir?”
“Sleeping like a baby. I think she needs a little sleep-in after last night.”
“It was great to watch, though may I ask you a question?”
“As long as you don’t expect a coherent answer, before I finish this coffee, sure fire
away.”
“When you were done last night, and your slave asked for more, wasn’t that a form
of topping from below? I ask sincerely Sir, because I don’t see you ever get topped and
am curious.”
He groaned and took a big sip of coffee.
“Aren’t you miss-perky, first thing in the morning.”
She laughed.
“Well, first pet, understand that she could not think. She was too zoned and gone,
and notwithstanding others reasons I will explain shortly, no matter what came out of
her mouth, she was in no condition to be held responsible. But, that aside, you raise an
interesting question, and one that causes confusion for many starting out in the
lifestyle.”
So, he began explaining one of the subtle skills in art of mastery; recognizing topping
from the bottom, when it occurs. Few masters recognize it, and often, slaves do not
realize they are doing it. Master the skill, and she will stop doing it. Funny, how
leadership works that way.
He nodded to the other chair and the slave sat, sipping her coffee to listen.
 “When a slave asks for more pain during a scene, some consider that a form of
topping from below. Yet, it is not, in any way. The slave simply expressed herself
honestly, as she is required to do. She asked for more, and accepted whatever decision
came down. It is not topping from below, to express a want, or need. It is
communication, and rather than punishing it as an act of topping, it must be encouraged,
within reason. She cannot nag, but she can express what she wants.
“Now, if she had somehow been able to ask for more and I responded “no”, that
upon hearing me, she pouted, or expressed displeasure with my decision, that would
unequivocally, be an act topping from below. But of course, me being me, I made sure
her ability to speak was sufficiently impaired, to make the point moot.”
He grinned and she smiled.
“I don’t understand, Sir. How can pouting be topping? I see many masters that
love their slaves giving cute little bratty pouts when they don’t like something.”
“Pouting is topping from below pet, make no mistakes about it. Toleration by some,
does not change the fact, it is a fundamental attempt to exert control by the slave. That
is exactly what pouting is. When a master gives a command, or makes a decision, he
does so to bring pleasure and happiness, or to move them forward in the relationship. I
know of no quality master that deliberately makes a decision to cause personal distress.
That being the case, then when a slave pouts in response to a decision she doesn’t like,
whether she acknowledges it or not, or whether her master acknowledges it or not, she is
deliberately taking it upon herself to behave in a way, that minimizes, or at least reduces
the pleasure, or effect, the master receives, or wants. She is deliberately affecting the
outcome of the decision, by behaving to control the pleasure quotient. In other words,
she attempts to control how much pleasure she thinks the master should have. It doesn’t
work that way for me. If she decides, she controls, and then she has the power.”
She was listening intently.
“Some masters think a slave’s pout, or mini-hissy-fit, put in other words, is cute, and
they tolerate it. They do not recognize that she has deliberately acted to control his
pleasure, and in cases where she does not like the decision, to minimize, or alter the
effect, to an outcome more palatable to herself. Never mind what her master really
wants, in effect, her pleasure is more important. By any definition that is flagrant
topping from below.”
“Some people will argue that pouting is just a manifest behavior of real feelings of
disappointment in his decision. This has nothing to do with feelings. She is trying to
control her master and the amount of pleasure he will receive, through her deliberate
behavior. Her behavior is controllable, so a smartly administered punishment regimen
and ‘suck it up princess’ is certainly in order.”
“Pouting is no way to communicate concerns she may have with any decision. It is
 just a selfish act the master needs to work on and alter her behavior.”
“What the slave needs to learn, is to move forward, beyond the specific decision, and
believe in, and trust her master, that he has the best intentions. She can do that by
remembering she gave him the responsibility to make these decisions. In most cases, she
had an opportunity to state her position before a decision occurred, but then once
decided, she must respect the power she surrendered. She does not have the right to do
anything but accept it, and put her energies into making it a successful decision.”
The slave refreshed our coffees, still listening, absorbing every word.
“So asking for something is not an act of topping, but how she reacts to the
subsequent decision might be?” she said.
“Yes pet. Anger, frustration, pouting, ignoring, feigning confusion, or any act short
of 100% commitment to supporting and seeing the decision through, are all acts of
topping, and thus disobedience.”
“Take for example a slave who says,
‘Fuck Master! That stinks, but ok, you got it Bossman’.
She is going to be punished, but not for topping. Rather it will be punishment for a
potty mouth, disrespectful communication, and using the ‘ok’ word.
But, listen closely to what she said. She committed to the decision. Albeit, she was
rude, thus will be punished, but she is committed to supporting the decision and thus it
isn’t an act of topping. Perhaps some will see it as semantics; that she was disobedient
and needs to be punished, regardless of the exact reason. But a master should try to get
the reason right.”
“Sure a master will make mistakes and decisions the slave doesn’t like. But pouting
is no way to communicate concerns. It is just a selfish act.”
She was nodding now.
“Of course, some masters like pouting behavior, choosing to ignore that he was
topped, preferring she have subliminal control anyway. They call it cute, where I call it
loss of control. And, many masters would not recognize topping if it snuck up and
smacked them on the ass anyway. So, to each their own.”

Understand that, slaves will top from the bottom. Often it is subconscious, or the
remnants of her vanilla life, and may not realize she is doing it. If she does know, and
continues her behavior, it is clear evidence she does not respect your structure.
Then, you have a serious power struggle on your hands. Be aware too, she may be
testing your structure. That is fine, smack her hard for the deliberate impertinence.
However, if she is doing it because she can, then a more thorough understanding of
mastery is required. No one tolerates topping behavior, and maintains control over the
 long haul.
You must point it out, each, and every time, and stop it. At first, she generally
requires training, not punishment. If she is unaware she topped, re-teach the expected
behavior. Only punish what you have taught. In time though, the behavior must be
corrected. Understand that topping is a control device and her actions are undermining
your authority. Allowed to continue, the results are a permanent power shift, in her
direction. You know what that means. You are now the slave. Welcome to Cell Block
T – “Topped from Below”.
The most common topping behavior, is undoubtedly, a slave not accepting decisions
without reservation. Expressing displeasure, but also acting overtly, or subliminally, to
subvert your decision, is also common. Disrespectful behavior is another form of
topping. Interrupting sentences, finishing sentences, assertive behavior bringing
unwarranted attention, are other forms. Any cavalier response to you; complacency,
inattention, or flagrant, deliberate disobedience, by disregarding rules, are all forms of
topping. They all need quick, consistent attention.
After training, refusing to respect your rules, likely means her slave needs are not
being met (your problem), or more likely, were never real in the first place (damn, also
your problem). Drawing the latter conclusion is easy, if you have provided consistent,
logical and identifiable structure.
You will notice as you travel through this trilogy, most responsibility for the
relationship, devolves to the master. She is not bereft of responsibility, and
accountability, however, and the master leads, so assumes the heavier load. Some might
argue the validity of that statement, but he controls, thus must have the authority, along
with the responsibility to lead.
However, a repetitious pattern of topping from below, despite the presence of quality
mastery and consistent efforts to address her misbehavior, then there is a very good
chance you need to change slaves. Neither of your needs are being met, as manifested in
this unacceptable pattern of behavior.
Masters are generally not advocates for casual dismissal of slaves. However, nor
will they tolerate continuing patterns of topping. It is too disrespectful and subversive on
so many levels. Whether her reasoning is disrespect for her master, the choice she made
to submit, or the lifestyle in general, matters not. If she wants to top, she is sabotaging
the relationship. But, by all means, she can, realizing there are consequences beyond
hearing cute domboy giggles.
From simple punishment, to outright release, it is all on the table. She will learn
topping is verboten, and you are the sole judge, jury and executioner.
Next time she pouts, show her another bit of chicanery from your satchel of masterly
tricks. A little push on her bellybutton from the inside should do it. Turn her inny, into a
 pouty-outy. Anal fisting cures bellyaches!

"Words” – Oh So Very Important

Simple questions often demand simple answers, a notion worth cherishing. One of
the elegantly simple questions germane to sustaining a master-slave life is asking; what
interaction occurs most frequently between a slave and her master? For the
sustainability of any master-slave relationship, it is the critical question.
She struggled, but the leather held firm. Splayed open and vulnerable, she looked
sexy and beautiful, and her ass glowed from the spanking. Mounting her, he growled,
smothered her with a kiss, then, thrust balls deep!
Now, that is how to use a slave and the predominant interaction wish of many. It
sure is sexy and highly recommended. Alas, it is not reality when considering how a
master and slave interact most often. Was it though, there is not a snowballs chance on
her glowing cute ass, this book gets written. Like most any bloodletting, red-blooded
dominant sort, I would be too busy.
In reality, universally, in consensual master-slave relationships, talking is how
masters and slaves most often interact. Yes, verbal communication, speech, nattering,
chatter, mumbling, ear growls, and cackling are it. Hey, some of that it is a style thing,
so sue me.
Undeniably though, speech is the most common, and arguably most important
interaction of all. It makes sense then, masters need to direct how that communication
occurs, its style, tone, word preferences, and the sentence structure used. Speech is the
strongest evidence of the power dynamics at work on a day-to-day basis, so a slave
needs direction in its use.
Do not misunderstand please. This is not an attempt to control the content of her
message. Encourage her direct thoughts, ideas, feelings, and personality. It is simply
how she expresses those things, that are very important to the master-slave dynamic.
Her doing so properly, as you wish, positively reinforces her slavery, and introduces a
tangible, real life, yet invisible piece of structure into her vanilla dominated life. It also
removes impertinence and confrontation between you. That alone is reason enough to
think through how you want communication conducted.
It makes sense then, to develop and control how she speaks to you, and in turn, your
speech to her. It may well be the most important element in any master’s structure.
Throughout the book are hints about controlling speech. Incorporating the No rule,
banning the word Ok, insistence on the elimination of yelling, arguing and screaming;
are but some, and more follow in Volume III. These rules set the tone for the home, your
mastery, and contribute to positive structure that marries her contributory and submissive
need. It does so too, virtually invisibly in the midst of the vanilla world. It takes work to
develop, particularly in the beginning, but the long-term benefits are very real.
All this is well and good, but inevitably, confusion arises when trying to understand
and implement what is essentially a simple practice. Specificity and elaboration is
required.
Unless it cranks your willy, this is not about baby talk. It concerns, tone, respectful
dialogue, smiling when talking and positive body language. For some this will be
natural and easy. Others it will take work and consistent correction. When done well
however, her strength of character, intelligence, and personality harmonizes with an
inherent humility. Eliminated, are inflated ego, arrogance, and confrontation. It is
positive, optimistic and intelligent. She will get it, and it will not take long before she
realizes the full appreciation of the positive results for your relationship.
Achieving all this requires first, and most importantly, eliminating confrontational
statements from her speech patterns. Statements that imply, or infer confrontation
between master and slave cannot exist. They challenge your authority. In essence, in
doing so says she wants power, or has not really surrendered any. You are entitled to
respect, appreciation and useful contribution from your slave. She has submitted to you.
You are not some unknown domboy in pleather, at the local dungeon. Permitting her to
linguistically challenge the power structure is dangerous ground for any master.
“We’re going out for dinner tonight pet.”
That is a simple and clearly understood statement by any master.
“Why?”
“We are?”
“I can’t.”
“Who’s going to babysit?”
Those are common, vanilla answers. They are also extraordinarily confrontational
and challenging to the master-slave dynamic in a relationship. All those answers
challenge your power. They are prime example of nilla talk, a practice that sucks away
at master power until it is sucked into a black hole and oblivion. They are learned
behaviors, so exercise patience when leading her through this process of elimination and
replacement. Explain why they are confrontational and let her see and understand.
She might well protest that isn’t what she meant, no disrespect intended, or challenge
implied and that is ok. She does not know. She has habits. You need to educate and
change those behaviors. It is your right and obligation if it makes you happy.
It is an area I am relentless about because it has so many benefits. The first of which
 is that she knows I am listening. Second she sees a different point of view and it’s a
wonderful lesson in communication. It corrects a common misconception that the art of
communicating is in what is said. In fact, the art of communication is in what is heard.
What you heard with those answers is not what she thought she said, so change must
occur. Since you are the big boss bully boy, you get to change it so what you hear is
what she meant. Be kind and patient, it is not easy for her.
So what response would be appropriate from your slave?
"Why", becomes "Oh yummy. Is there a special reason tonight?" No confrontation
there. She has accepted that you are going out to dinner, made it pleasurable for you,
genuinely is excited and thus positive and engaged in a wonderful dialogue. That is a
great answer.
"We are?" (notice the question mark denoting a challenge in her tone of voice) That
becomes "Oh wonderful. I had no idea. That sounds fun." She acknowledged her
surprise and again expressed appreciation and enthusiasm.
"I can’t". That is a direct challenge and wholly inappropriate. In fact, construing it
as disobedience if she refuses is her new reality. "Oh, wonderful, that sounds like fun.
Sir, do you recall I have the pole dance class tonight?" Perfect, a great response. Again,
she accepted your decision then brought to your attention something that may affect it, or
you may have forgotten. She is being useful. Goodgirl.
"Who’s going to babysit?" Growl if you must, this one is wrong on so many levels.
No acknowledgement, no appreciation and a direct challenge are the start of this mess.
Taking her master for granted, oh yeah, in spades. He is taking her out to dinner and she
just responds with ho hum the doofus-domboy forgot we have kids. Unacceptable girl!
BendNBrace, this is going to sting, and not in a nice way. Try "Thank you Master that is
exciting. Are we trying that new restaurant we talked about? Oh, would you like me to
arrange a sitter?" Now there is respect, appreciation, enthusiasm, and double dose of
useful contribution.” No wonder you love and appreciate this slave. Yank her hair and
give her ass a squeeze, she may as well know what is for dessert.
Did any of these corrected answers restrict her ability to communicate? Did they
stifle her thoughts and expressions of ideas? Was she able to convey her feelings
freely? Was she intimidated or frightened of you? Did she make your life better and at
the same time feel her submission? The answer of course is in the peaceful smile over
dinner when she takes your hand and says she loves you.
Control your words too. How you speak to her has as much influence on the
relationship as hers to you. They too can be constructive or destructive, in control or
vanilla.
I don't play with her...
 I never session with her...
Scening isn't for me...
They create the wrong headspace. I "use" her. I make her "useful". She is my
slave. There is nothing uncaring or belittling. It honors our commitments to be who we
are, strong individuals who prefer an unorthodox relationship structure.
I'll have a cup of coffee please pet.
That works every time. Words are very important.
And if you bring me that tea crap again, bend over and kiss your ass goodbye."

Mind Fuck #12 - “The Pedicure

His feet were a mess. Rarely did he wear shoes at home, be it summer or winter, and
he never wore socks. He had been a bare foot person all his life and nary gave it a
second thought. The calluses were huge, though quite natural to him. Did not all men
have them? He never noticed, or cared that the calluses added two shoes sizes. But his
slave did.
“Master, please may I give you a pedicure… pretty please with whips on top?”
Well she had asked for permission to take pedicure lessons, it is probably just as well
to see what she learned.
“Fine then pet. I surely don’t understand your fixation on my feet when I have such
interesting other parts, but go ahead, knock yourself out.”
Well she didn’t knock herself out, but she was certainly thorough. First there was the
footbath.
“Usually the soak does not take an hour Master.”
I should have taken the hint then. Next came the pumas stone, quickly abandoned to
some Inquisition torture blade that gouged off pounds of dead flesh. Not that I noticed at
first. If I was supposed to feel this part, I did not, though in my boredom of sitting idly
watching my slave on her knees, thoughts of what I could do with that knife conjured
more than piles of dead skin from my feet.
“Are you sure you are doing this right pet? That pile is making this look like the
fastest ten pound diet on record.”
She must be cold, I thought. She is shivering.
Next came the pumas stone again, then some fancy smelling cream that must have
been the cheap stuff because it had grit in it. She worked it all over and admittedly it felt
good. I closed my eyes and daydreamt of how to use that grit cream on her. Then it was
back to the footbath, though I was a bit hesitant. The water seemed awfully dirty.
“What the hell are you doing girl?
“These are cuticle picks Master. See how they clean up your nails?”
Hmmmmmfffpppttt, I thought. I knew she was picky and this was just proving it.
More grit, more rubbing, more dipping and then finally the dry towel.
“Are you finished girl? It’s been too long already!”
“Almost Master, just the lotion and you are all set.”
“Lotion? Look girl, if you put lotion on my feet and I slip and fall on my ass, it won’t
be some fancy-schmanzy grit cream for your ass. It will be an eight-hour road trip with
you bare-assed on sandpaper! Got it?”
She smiled, “Yes Sir, I understand, but doesn’t this feel good?
I mumbled something. I think she interpreted it as Domeze for “You are the most
dedicated and wonderful slave.”
“All done Master, how does it feel?”
“Are those my feet?
“Yes Master, all yours.”
“Wow, don’t recognize them. They look smaller.”
I wiggled them about. They felt wonderful.
“Well, I can see my toenails and my feet feel as soft as soft as baby feet. Just don’t
throw out the baby with the bathwater pet.”
I laughed at my clever foray into pedicure humor.
“You are silly Master.”
“Yeah yeah. Goodgirl, that was nice. Now I am heading out to water the lawn.”
When I hit the front veranda and the ‘Welcome’ mat with the thousand little rubber
spikes, I knew I had been had!
It was sudden and surprising pain, unlike anything ever before.
“Holy chit, that %#&@^ thing hurts."
I danced off the bloody thing and plunked myself in a chair. Who knew feet had
 nerves. I think I was just topped from the bottom. Literally!
No, this story is not about me. Well ok, maybe just a bit, but honestly, my calluses
were beautiful, if just not in everyone’s eyes. Nit-picky bloody slaves!
 Chapter VI - Finessing Expertise
Developing an expertise in the master-slave lifestyle involves mastering the
fundamentals of course, many of which were addressed earlier. But, like all fields of
study, there are a myriad of subtle peripheral issues that finesse one’s knowledge, and
enhance the style and totality of the experience. Mastering the details provides a full-
color picture, adding enormously to your credibility with slaves, producing a stronger
trust, achieved more quickly. Knowledge breeds confidence and in this case, for both
master and slave. Wise masters take pride in understanding the entire BDSM spectrum,
while recognizing some issues may never cross their paths. However, having a full
repertoire of tools and knowledge to cope with the unexpected never caused a master
grief.
The master-slave lifestyle has many such peripheral issues, topics, talking points, and
perspectives, that round out both your understanding and practice of this unique way to
live. Commonly heard catchphrases like, Freedom through Submission and Gift of
Submission, beg explanation. Understanding these clichés contributes to developing
your vision and structure. They keep what we do in perspective, even if some are
nonsense. Similarly, an issue like understanding the relationship between feminism and
consensual slavery is important knowledge. Your slave appreciates your having taken
the time and effort to learn. Expertise is in the details, and so is the devil!

Freedom Through Submission

To paraphrase Winston Churchill’s famous description of Russia, Freedom through

submission, is “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma”. What a paradoxical
term. So it seems at first glance. Confined by rules, subject to the whims of another,
controlled by time and place, subservient and enslaved, how possibly could this phrase
have any accuracy, or be anything, but a paradox. There certainly is no freedom when
submitting. How could there be? Yet there is!
A paradox by definition is:
“Seemingly contradictory, or opposed to common sense, yet is perhaps true.”
Freedom through submission certainly meets the definitive criteria of a paradox. The
phrase is widely used and popular when attempting to understand, and explain,
consensual slavery; and justifiably so. It has validity and relevance. There is a very real
sense of freedom for many slaves living this lifestyle. Moving past the surface
contradiction, those recognizing their slave needs as embodied in the SODS Principle of
Service, Obedience, Direction and Structure; and then given the opportunity to fulfill
 those needs, very much experience feelings of freedom.
Her freedom comes on many levels, none stronger than to be whom she is. Living
enslaved to a responsible master they respect, trust and love, represents their home, their
place; with someone who recognizes, accepts, uses, and nurtures those needs, in
enriching ways. A sense of peace and tranquility envelops the slave. She is free, not of
responsibility, because she has many of those, even in slavery, but of guilt, insecurity
and a fear her needs are wrong. She has felt her slave needs for as long as she can
remember, yet suppressed them in the face of society’s onslaught of feminist
empowerment. She knows the free choice to submit, in itself, is a form of
empowerment, yet society does not recognize that distinction. Suddenly, inside the care
and structure of her master, she is free to be who she is, free of the guilt of difference,
no longer subject to uncomfortable social conformity in her personal relationship.
In some cases, she is free to overcome sexual exploration issues, perhaps values
instilled from a repressed youth. She trusts her master, and he leads to these new areas,
guilt free. That he demands it of her, understanding no one is hurt, is enough to free her
from conservative sexual mores, she may be fighting.
Hiding her core identity in the face of society’s disapproval and sanctions, then
openly expressing her needs to her master, is again freeing for many slaves. Freedom
through Submission is a wonderful expression, very valid, very healthy, and very real for
many women with the courage to explore a path to personal fulfillment and happiness.

Gift of Submission

Oh, the ever so popular idea that submission is a gift! A gift so precious, that
slaves extolling this platitude, mount the pedestal of the pious, and preach their worth,
disguising insecurity, or rejection of real power offerings, while demanding masters
idolize their precious submissive ass.
“Arrrrgh - Keel haul the wench matey! I don’t want no stinking gift.”
A gift, huh? Well, let us see about that.
Gifts in my neck of the woods are given with no expectations.
They are given without strings.
They cannot be taken back.
They are given out of the goodness of one’s heart.
Gifts are best when unexpected.
There are no obligations attached.
 Hmmmm… Houston we have a problem.
So, what are the properties of gifts?
Well, sometimes they come nicely wrapped, and un-wrapping them is fun.
Sometimes they are a surprise. That is not always good.
Often, they are something you do not want, or need.
If they are silver, they tarnish with age and bring more work than joy.
Most often, they end up stored in a box and become yard sale fodder.
So, submission is a gift eh?
In light of how often those professing this rhetoric, yank their gift back the moment
their master dares to actually exert control and demand an inconvenience, work, or
task that does not instantly soak her panties, then perhaps it is wiser to call it a Loan of
Submission. At least that would be more in keeping with the bartering component, for
surely the slave would want to negotiate the deal, demanding interest at her rate.
Oy!
The master gave the slave the opportunity to be who she is. There is no gift in that.
Why do slaves need to preach how precious they are, when in fact, their masters simply
enabled them? The slave did nothing except proclaim a choice she made, that she has
slave needs. The proclamation does not a slave make. Sorry to break your water ladies.
You do not hear masters spouting they have the Gift of Opportunity. Why then this
pedestal idolization of the slave, for that is what the concept is.
The answer is twofold. Too many masters acknowledge the gift concept as valid.
The contributing reasons that keeps this rhetoric growing, are that some masters accept
the slave’s subliminal (or often overt) message that she is a princess, gifting him
something so valuable, that while she appears to give, in fact she hangs onto it, only
giving the illusion he is in control. She does that so he is beholden, thus ensuring she
ultimately controls. After all, only she has the gift and thus can yank him around like a
marionette, making Sir Puppet dance. Of course, Puppet-boy loves this, because he only
wants the illusion of control, not the real responsibility. What he really wants, and will
play her game to get, is something he has failed to get in the vanilla world. Sex! A fuck
and a blowjob when he wants, with no responsibility! No wonder it is a popular notion
among so-called masters.
And for the woman, who even if only subconsciously, does not really want to
relinquish power, but likes the game, or has an ulterior agenda, or loves the illusion, well
then, this is a perfect phrase for her, knowing those buying into it, accept she ultimately
controls.
 When power is genuinely offered and responsibility for it in place, then the master
and slave together enable one another to be who they are. Vanilla couples do exactly the
same thing with each other, though they do not have the pomposity to call it a gift.
Perhaps in this sense, they are more honest than the BDSM world.
There is no gift. People just need to be who they are and stop the psycho-babble,
chatroom nonsense. A slave has value; that is uncontested, but, all people have value
and that too is unequivocal. So exactly what is it that makes this woman a gift? Return
to Volume I, Chapter 8 - “The Doormat” and read the baseball player analogy again.
That is my gift to you.
However, if it turns your crank to think of it as a gift, then hey, go for it. Un-wrap
her and knock yourself out.

Feminism & Consensual Slavery

Over lunch, one day many years ago, a dedicated slave made an offhand remark that
has stayed with me over the years. It caused me to observe, to see if there was credence
in her claim. It surprised me somewhat, hearing it for the first time, but time has
validated her assertion. She thought then, as many still do today, that the most ardent
advocates for women’s rights and equal opportunities, are mature responsible masters in
the master-slave niche of the lifestyle. Whether that is a universal truth is unknown, and
not of sufficient interest for me to study, but I suspect it is.
Responsible masters are a relatively enlightened, educated and informed group.
They understand and condone the feminist ideals, if not the radical elements. That might
confuse some, coming from a group of gentlemen supporting a patriarchal home
structure, but masters see a bigger picture. Some ardent feminists condemn the
BDSM lifestyle, in particular the male dominant niche, while condoning female
dominant ones. Notwithstanding the obvious hypocrisy, other groups are more
egalitarian, and condemn all power exchange relationships.
Without a long ramble into the issues involved in the feminist movement, keeping it
simple, feminism has been about equal opportunities, available alternative choices, and
merit based compensation. Only some very regressive thinkers could have substantive
issue with those ideals. They have become apple pie and motherhood issues, easily
understood and virtually in receipt of unanimous support. That those goals are only
partially achieved is not the issue here. But, masters supporting them is important,
particularly because of the type of personal relationships they live.
Some will argue that many male dominant relationships are abusive, often
misogynist, and unhealthy. That is true. We are not utopia, nor without faults. We
suffer the same human foibles as any group in society. Those same elements exist in the
vanilla world, and until the master-slave world is better defined, and research done, I see
no evidence to assume a disproportionate amount of abuse, in one group over the other.
I just do not know, and to my knowledge, lacking research, no one knows.
But, I do know that a woman freely choosing to submit, being fully informed,
understanding her needs, and to a man exercising a responsible approach, even in the all-
inclusive Three Power niche, when she has alternative choices available to her, is a
valid, if not the ultimate expression of feminist choice. The key is in her having viable
alternative choices.
Many in the lifestyle like to compare what it is we do, to the vintage marriage
relationship structure of the 1950’s. Whether that comparison holds water is decided
individually, but while similar, where it fails is the “alternative choices” criteria.
Women certainly have more options on how to live their lives now, than they did fifty
years ago. Today, a myriad of career and lifestyle choices are available. A young lady
in the 50’s was expected to marry, stay home, raise a family, and answer to her husband.
Anything outside that positional model was stigmatized to varying degrees. That has
changed. In large urban centers, but also, more and more throughout smaller
communities, sexual orientation, power structure, career options, and even single
motherhood are noticed, but accepted as viable alternatives for any woman.
These are good things and welcome progress for our society. Yet, some feminists
argue submitting to a man is abusive chauvinism and must be stopped. When
historically women had no reasonable choice, but to follow a systemic track into
subservience, both in society and the institution of marriage, an argument could be made
of the outrageous inequalities of the day. But that is no longer the case. Now when
alleged feminists question and condemn a woman’s choice for a life of
consensual slavery, a decision they would find no peace in themselves, and refuse to
tolerate other’s informed decisions about, then it raises serious questions whether
feminism is being argued, or there is an agenda of women’s supremacy, or perhaps other
radical self-serving goals. That a woman has a myriad of options now and can choose
voluntary slavery is ironically, the ultimate expression of female empowerment.

Mind Fuck #13 - “The Dare”

She was a slim attractive girl with long beautiful flowing red hair. Young and new to
the lifestyle, exploration of her submissive needs began, like for most now, on the
internet. She had bravely ventured on to attend some munches and a couple of fetish
parties in the local scene. At nineteen, she bubbled enthusiasm, confidence and the
braggadocio of youth. She had seen some floggings and cane work on slaves and
reveled in it. Courage had led her to explore the realm of sado-masochism with a local
top man and now believed she knew it all, exuding the cockiness and confidence of
youth. The world was her oyster. Humility, mortality and the reality of real world of
master-slavery were still in the future. Blind enthusiasm, while age appropriate, had not
morphed into the mature confidence of a slave, and that was fine, she was still learning.
Sometimes fate works in odd ways though, and a young girl’s fate would turn on a
chance meeting this night. For her, it would be a lesson with a silver lining, hard
learned, but long remembered. Progression into understanding her needs and who
masters are, was about to come out of her fantasy dreams and into the harsh reality that
occurs when enthusiasm meets experience head on.
For the master, it was one of his occasional public forays into the BDSM scene to use
his slave. They had been together many years and used the public fetish nights only for
the opportunity to explore her modesty and shyness. The night had gone well. He used
her with skill, brutality and the intimacy that is only shared between a committed master
and slave. For over an hour she had danced under his whip, riding the waves of
percussion into a blissful happy-happy land. Now, beneath his boot she was flying. The
physical intensity was over, but wrapped in a blanket, coming back to this world, she
was at home, smelling his leathers, feeling the weight of his leg on her neck, her limbs
and voice not functioning, but hearing everything in the minutest detail.
The young redhead watched him use his slave, fascinated and mesmerized by the
path they had taken. Slave needs were overpowering her and watching what could be,
had soaked her thong and stirred her heart. The master had used his slave differently
than she had ever seen, harshly, even cruelly to many eyes, yet there was a cosmic
connection of some sort that made it right, made it peaceful, even with the enormous
energy she witnessed. Glancing around at the crowd, conscious of the wetness between
her legs and excitement in her heart, she wanted to… no… had to, meet this couple and
talk with them. He was known by reputation, but she had never seen, or met them.
Others had told her he was a master, very knowledgeable, not a talker, more a walker
and enjoyed a reputation of being harsh and strict, but not without compassion. He
wasn’t reckless as were so many she had seen. That part she witnessed first hand. He
scared her, but was drawn like a moth to the flame.
“Sir, that was marvelous to watch, thank you for being here and doing that. It was
like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It was incredible.”
“Thank you pet, that is kind of you to say. Flattery will get you spanked.”
She had summoned the courage to come over and speak to them and his response did
little stem her growing tidal wave of nerves. Shuffling on her feet, anxiety creased her
forehead, along with the soppy feeling between her legs, but being there to talk with
them was exactly where she wanted to be.
“It was quite different than anything I have seen before, Sir. May I introduce
myself?
He smiled at the young girl. She was obviously nervous.
 “Relax pet, I won’t bite. Of course, please do” and introductions were made.
His slave could move now and taken her place on the stool beside him. She looked
like a rag doll sitting there wrapped in a blanket, barely able to speak, her hair a mess,
looking like she had just endured a train wreck then spent several hours being vigorously
fucked, and still with a silly lopsided grin on her face.
“Excuse my girl please, she is having a little trouble forming compound sentences at
the moment, but can hear you just fine.”
He stroked her hair and smiled.
“Sir, it was just so cool to watch the connection you two have. The way you could
kick her, then kiss her passionately, cut locks of her hair off, and keep a knife to her
throat, then stand and whip her hard, stepping up and choking her, face slapping, then
biting her face… oh my goodness it was just incredible how you manipulated her back
and forth.”
He could tell she was a talker, perhaps from nerves, but he smiled and listened to her
exuberance. She started to ramble on and couldn’t seem to stop.
“Sir, the ebb and flow, the connection you so obviously have all showed in how you
interacted. She followed you everywhere you took her. And the equipment you used on
her was so neat. Some of those things I have no idea what they are, but some I
recognized. The way you used the whip, it wasn’t like a singletail flick, it was more like
a real whipping. And the floggers, I’ve felt those before and some hurt. I even have a
deerskin flogger, but it’s too tame, it can’t hurt me.”
She finally took a moment to catch her breath.
“Oh really pet? You’ve tasted a deerskin flogger and it was too tame?”
“Oh absolutely, those things can’t hurt you,” she said.
“Really? What if I told you they can very hurt you and probably faster than you can
imagine?”
“No sir, I’ve had them full tilt boogie on me, they don’t hurt.”
“Well pet, is that a gauntlet you are throwing? It almost sounds like a dare.”
He smiled mischievously.
“Sir, I’ve felt deerskin, they can’t hurt me.”
Thinking back, she didn’t really know what came over her. Surely it was a moment
of temporary insanity, a brain-fart, and ultimately a lesson in humility. Regardless of the
reasoning, she learned about masters that evening.
“Sir, with all due respect, a deerskin flogger can’t hurt me assuming you aren’t
 going to hit me in the face with it. And I would happily bet that is the case.”
It had been years since a slave had dared him and the challenge caught him by
surprise. His slave watched the goings on and actually began to giggle. Some onlookers
watching the interchange, knowing the master, gasped. A sly smile came to his face.
“Pet, you are young, and probably quite new to this lifestyle. A challenge like that
could only be born of naiveté, because you do not appear to be lady prone to making
stupid decisions. Challenging someone who has been practicing the leather lifestyle
longer than you’ve been alive is not the wisest decision you can make. So, I will accept
your challenge, but give you an opportunity, right now, without loss of honor, to
withdraw your challenge and we’ll smile and move on.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I know what I can take and a deerskin flogger cannot hurt
me. If you would care to propose a wager, I already know what I want when I win.”
“Oh do you now, and what would that be pet?”
“Sir, when I win, I want you to do to me, what you did to your slave,” she smiled, but
he could see was dead serious.
He thought for a moment. A crowd had gathered around and some were cheering the
young girl on. Others were shouting warnings for her not to do it. He smiled and looked
her in the eye.
“Pet if you are determined to go through with this, then lets make it a wager worthy
of your bravado. You are on, and if by chance you cannot take what I can give you with
just a deerskin flogger inside ten minutes, I will be the winner and get to do anything I
want to you for one hour. I won’t harm you when I win, nor will I break the law for you.
But in the end, you will come to understand the foolishness of your dare and perhaps a
little more about mastery. Do you understand?”
The crowd had grown yet again and the laughter, warnings and sheer audacity of the
young girl was providing great entertainment. The blanket wrapped slave was just
shaking her head, knowing what the girl was in for, amused at thinking this girl could
pull one over on her master. The girl was having some misgivings now, but like many in
her age group, she didn’t know when to back down gracefully.
“Yes Sir, I understand and accept.”
The crowd howled and a path formed to the play area.
“Fine then pet, shall it be my flogger, or yours?”
“Perhaps we’ll use mine Sir,” and she was off to retrieve it.
His slave leaned against her master smiling.
“Don’t hurt her too badly Master, she’s young and doesn’t know what she is doing.”
 “Pet, I am fully aware she hasn’t a clue. This though, is a good lesson for her.
She’ll learn without being harmed. She needs some starch taken out of her. It will keep
her safer in the long run and more importantly; perhaps she will begin to understand
that slavery is not all about her wishes. Learning that master’s lead and slaves don’t
challenge them, will serve her well.”
“What are you going to do with her after you win Master?”
He took his slave’s hair in his hand and pulled her in for a kiss. He was smiling.
“I’m going to reinforce in you, the wisdom of your having never had the audacity to
challenge me pet,” and he laughed.
“OMG, she is in for it now!” and they both laughed.
There was a small stage in the play area with a whipping bench. The young girl was
standing there with the event organizer when the master arrived. A spotlight had been
turned on highlighting the area in a ring of brightness. She was holding her flogger,
dressed in a simple black leather skirt and sheer black blouse. Smiling he entered the
ring.
“I understand there is a bet to be carried out here,” said the organizer.
“Indeed, that appears to be the case. I want to explain the rules and offer this girl a
final chance to honorably decline the bet with no hard feelings,” the master explained.
“May I?” he said reaching out for the flogger. The girl handed it to him.
He examined it in detail, turning it over in his hands inspecting every inch of it. The
falls were longish and plentiful, designed more for sensual thud than intense pain. The
handle was beautiful turned wood in the classic shape, with a tapered grip and large
wooden knob on the end. It was immaculately finished, shiny and smooth. Swinging it,
he got a feel for the balance and power he could generate. He smiled.
“The rules are simple. The girl will obey my commands for ten minutes as I attempt
to get her demanding I stop what I am doing to her, with just this flogger. The bet is to
see if I can hurt her to the point of her wanting it stopped within that time, using just this
flogger. Is that your understanding pet?"
“Yes Sir,” she said more humbly than he had heard from her before.
Perhaps the foundation of her bravado was not as strong as she thought.
“Goodgirl, now the wagers are simple as well. In the event she can persevere
through ten minutes without relenting and surrendering to defeat, then I will use her for
an hour in a way similar to how I used my slave earlier tonight. In the event she does
not last ten minutes, I can do anything to her I wish for an hour, here and now, while
respecting the house rules of ‘No dead bodies’.”
 He grinned and the organizer laughed.
“Yes, please, no dead bodies!”
“That being the case then, do you understand and accept the wager pet, and will you
obey as directed for ten minutes?”
“Yes Sir”… and then she boldly added, “and I am going to win!”
He smiled as the crowd laughed and cheered. It was agreed the organizer would
keep the clock and declare the winner.
Stepping back he said “Say the word, and the clock starts”.
“Ready pet?”
“Yes Sir.”
She was smiling, confidence seeming to grow now that the initial nerves were gone.
“Start the clock please.”
The room went quiet and all eyes stared at the duo in the spotlight. She stood before
the bench watching him closely.
“Lower your eyes to the ground and do not say anything unless you surrender and
end the bet please pet.”
She obeyed.
He began slowly pacing silently around her. The effect on her mind would be to her
benefit for years to come. Circling and saying nothing, he stalked her. Just the sound of
his boots on the floor could be heard in the room. His slave watched from the sidelines,
quietly wondering what her master was up to. She figured he would have her screaming
mercy by now knowing the tricks he had up his sleeve to torment a slave. The master
just kept pacing silently. Around and round he went, close enough not to touch her, but
she could feel his presence and sense his power. Her legs began to twitch. This wasn’t
what she expected at all.
“You want to be a slave pet,” he said suddenly.
“You saw what we enjoy and want that. That is good. Goodgirl. But you know
nothing. You are just starting. You play and get slapped and think that is what slavery
is about. For you it’s all about adrenalin, endorphins, thrill and pleasure.”
He spoke softly and melodiously.
“That is what this lifestyle is for you right now. If that is to be the extent of your
involvement, you will be gone in a few years, bored to tears. You will never know, or
experience the depth of peace and tranquility that can be enjoyed by those who
understand, that mastery and slavery are more than slap and tickle. It is about power.
One manages it responsibly for the betterment of both and one submits because it
enables her. It makes her all she can be in this lifetime.”
“You dared me because you think you can win. You assume you can control me. But
slaves don’t control masters. You think I accepted a bet. But you haven’t a clue what I
really did. I never bet. It is not something I do. Playing those games are for others. It
may appear a bet to you, but if I had any doubt I would lose, I would not have accepted
your dare. You made a mistake pet. For your daring silly power play, you are going to
pay with your hair. In a few minutes I am going to shave your head bald. Your beautiful
tresses will be lying ruined on the floor. You lost. You made a foolish whimsical bet
with a man who knows more about the S&M arts that you do. Now you will pay and
learn. Hopefully you will think twice before challenging a master again.”
Now her knees were shaking. Would he really shave her bald? She wanted to cry.
He continued to pace around her. But she hadn’t lost yet, he hadn’t touched her and
surely time was running out. Resolve swelled in her heart. She was not going to be
shaved.
“How much time is left please?”
“Two and a half minutes,” came the reply.
“Raise your skirt to your waist and bend over the bench girl.”
She blushed knowing people were looking at her ass, but she obeyed and braced
herself against the old leather. His hands were strong and he wasted no time parting her
cheeks. The thong was pulled aside exposing not just her wetness, but also the small
pink rosebud. She froze in embarrassment. It was the cold wooden handle, obviously
moistened somehow, that she felt unexpectedly against her asshole.
“Now it’s time to hurt you pet,” and he pushed the handle into her ass.
She screamed bolted upright and surrendered!
 Chapter VII - Before Using Your Slave
Unquestionably, the overwhelming majority of couples who identify in the all-
inclusive Three Power master-slave, TPE, 24/7, same roof niche; engage in some degree
of sado-masochism. That some do not include S&M, while others practice it vigorously
is fine. There are many relationship variations outside the TPE niche, either as less
structured D/s, or often only as a sexy spice to Friday night bowling. Regardless though,
there are issues surrounding S&M that all need be aware of and address. Most
importantly though, it is critical the master acquire at least a rudimentary expertise.
Many slaves also like to know about the art of S&M, but unlike the master, their
expertise is not critical, or even necessary.
“OMG Sir, I don’t even know what half that stuff is?
He pulled her hair, smiled and bit her nose.
“Pet, it is not important you know how to use these things, what they do, or even
what they are. It is just important that I do. Trust or don’t, pet.”
By now, it has hit you over the head that this is not a How to Play instruction
manual. That was never the intention. There are countless good technique books on the
market dealing with everything from rudimentary flogging, caning, electrical play,
fisting, to hook suspension and more. It is the emotional head space issues surrounding
the practice of S&M in the TPE niche, in a committed relationship intended to endure
that are addressed. Certainly, you must acquire some skill and knowledge of things you
plan to do. But, you must also become expert in the issues surrounding play, or use that
will focus context and provide purpose beyond the pain/pleasure paradox. Masters need
to keep her emotionally safe and that is what we must address here.
Whereas some masochists are not necessarily slaves where emotional intimacy is
sought during intense S&M play, slaves often have a soul-searing need to please through
endurance for their master. That need to please often transcends physical sensation and
descends into the depths of her psyche and emotional well-being. This is good, it is a
wonderful place to take her, but it necessitates your learning some attending issues.
These issues seem to present themselves at the most inopportune times.
Infliction of pain, i.e.: sadism, even consensually, requires masterly leadership. You
have aspired into this life and have a good grasp of what turns your crank, makes you
happy, what your responsibilities are and of course, have identified her slave needs. You
are both excited about beginning the journey into the special intimacy of the
pain/pleasure paradox.
But, before actually using her, you need to teach the conditions and context of
S&M use, particularly the lack of control she has in the process. She needs to
 understand the magnitude of her choice to submit and the road she is traveling. It is up
to you to teach her if she doesn’t already know. Three stark questions in the beginning
will help her focus on the process and role of S&M in your relationship. If they do not
terrify her, they will certainly generate nervous anticipation, and that too is good.
Clarity, reality, skill and nerves are a recipe for fun and intimacy.
The first time you engage in S&M with her, before collaring, but as a step in the
exploration of a path that might lead to permanent commitment, then ask her these
questions. They are tangible evidence of the responsibilities you seriously accept. Using
them in and of themselves, will nurture trust between you. Bear in mind, if she needs
more dialogue about her position with you at this stage, then it is too early to be taking
the step into S&M. If you have explained your vision and intentions well to this point,
more than these three questions are not necessary. Kneel her down and ask:
“Pet, I’m going to use you tonight. You know what that means. This represents a
step in our growth and commitment to each other. I don’t play casually with slaves and
won’t play casually with you. Sometimes I will be playful, but I “use” my slave and
when I use that word, it means in no uncertain terms, use sexually or to explore the
pain/pleasure paradox. Do you understand?
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you consent?”
Consent is the first question. Of course, she has several options in responding to
you. A No Sir is self-explanatory. This is not the time to use, or play.
Yes Sir is a great answer. It is unconditional and unequivocal.
Sir, I consent to this and that, not this or that though, is another option she has.
When she tries this, before responding to her attempted negotiation and directing the
terms of use, which is exactly what she is trying to do, immediately go to the second
question.
“Pet, do you trust me?”
What a terrific straightforward blunt, no-nonsense question. She is on the spot and a
decision demanded. If it is no, the game is over, walk away. But, most slaves, at this
point answer yes.
“Well, wait a minute pet, I’m confused. You say you trust me, but when asked if you
consent, you endeavored to place restrictions on me. You either trust or you don’t. If
you do, then do it. There is no need for your trying to control how I use you, unless of
course, you really don’t trust me, or are concerned with my motivations, or the skills I
bring to the table, or are confused yourself. If you don’t trust me, then why in gawd’s
name did you consent?”
 “Surely you didn’t expect I would transfer power back to you through negotiation,
did you? You aren’t a dumb lady. You can’t have it both ways. You either trust me, or
you don’t. You either believe in me, my skills and the path I have chosen or you don’t.
The adage I subscribe to has been explained to you. “There is a no shame in leaving a
slave wanting more”. You don’t seem to believe that I take those
responsibilities seriously.”
So there you go, she consents and trusts, or she does not. In two simple questions
she is confronted with the magnitude and seriousness of the choice she made to submit.
She suddenly comes face-to-face with the reality that this man is no pushover. He is
blunt, logical, and will not play games. She is going to hightail it out of there right then,
or a sense of calm respect, combined with trepidation of what is to come, embraces her
soul. Is not this lifestyle simple and beautiful? It is so clear and honest.
The third question is easier. Simply ask her if there are medical conditions, or issues
she has you should be aware of, and then deal with the answer.
The Three Questions is a terrific technique used on an un-owned slave you intend to
play with, particularly when that someone has seen you play, approaches at a fetish
event, but whom you do not know well. It works to help sort the slaves, from those just
wanting you as their fantasy arm. When the fetish bottom realizes the extent she must
consent, she most often scurries away in a fit of fright.
If she persists, simply say:
“Fine pet, but understand, it’s all fun until someone loses an eye… then it becomes a
fetish.”
Realize though, this technique only works once with your slave, after which it
becomes redundant.
So to use your slave, let us set the table and get her ready. Understanding
Boundaries and Limits is the place to start.

Limits - Is She Bi? Does it Matter?

Being alert, you undoubtedly noticed that in reading about Master-Slave Contracts in
Volume I the slave’s limits were not mentioned, or addressed. They were deliberately
omitted from the contract. They were excluded, not because they are unimportant, but
because… well… because in the grand scheme of things they are unimportant. It is not
difficult to see masters chuckling reading that statement, and slaves scrunching their
foreheads, miffed at the Holier-Than-Thou-Master-Author-Dude. Well relax slave girls.
Boundaries were included, so put away the granny panties, untie the knot from your
knickers, slice up the pantyhose, and read on.
 The reasoning for this stems from the definition of the terms. A clear understanding
of the words is required. Almost all discussions of a slave’s limits, begins with trying to
define and divide the scope of limits into various categories, without understanding the
underlying concept. Terms like soft limits and hard limits are used to mean widely
different things to different people, inevitably causing confusion. Without a common
definition, unequivocal communication is difficult. Aspiring masters have to make clear,
the distinction between limits and boundaries, know the meanings in context of master-
slave living, and ensure their slave is on the same page. So, let us understand what limits
are first.
Limits are preferences. If the commonly used term were slave’s preferences, rather
than slave’s limits, much of the existing doubletalk about the issue would not exist. A
slave can have boundaries, which are absolute no’s, but those are not limits. Limits are
merely her preference for an activity, act or condition.
A slave’s limits are a statement of her feelings and state of mind, in the here and
now, about various activities, emotions and commitments within the BDSM lifestyle,
specific to her relationship
The important element of the definition is here and now. Limits are dynamic. They
change. Nothing remains static in life and a slave’s limits are no exception. Limits are
often used in connection with specific S&M techniques she has concerns with, but are
not limited to just that. Some slaves will have trepidation about aspects in your
vision, or structure outside the S&M domain. Issues like bisexuality, monogamy and the
use of humiliation, or exhibitionism, to name just a few examples. Or limits can be
specific to S&M implements, such as canes, needles, speculums, blindfolds, body bags,
or cling wrap. But sometimes too, her body parts are limits. Choking and anal dilation
are commonly heard body limits.
It is critically important aspiring masters learn and embrace that slaves expressing
limits are not issuing absolute no’s, but nor are they giving you carte blanch to cavalierly
go there. They are expressing real concern, hesitancy, nervousness and perhaps a degree
of fear, and that maybe in the right hands, under the right circumstances these are areas
she can go – for you. Often in fact, though nervous and concerned, they are areas she
wants to go.
By stating her limits, she is saying:
“Master, take me there if it pleases you. Be mindful these are vulnerable areas of my
psyche and I need your strength, commitment and leadership to overcome and grow as
you wish.”
Experienced masters’ respect their slaves stated limits for what they are. They do not
cavalierly ignore them, or crash through them like a bull in a china shop. But, nor do
they lack the courage to explore them, skilled as they are to do so, consistent with the
oath to keep her emotionally and physically safe. By acknowledging her limits, then
failing to act on them in a timely and responsible manner, you are in fact turning those
limits into boundaries, or demonstrating a lack of courage and imagination. This also
might be a symptom of the reality that exists at times, of when a slave has outgrown her
master.
Experienced masters use her limits, not as barriers, but as signposts to guide her
safely through the various activities and emotions along their journey together. Learn
now and believe a fundamental truth about slave limits. In this lifestyle, her limits today,
are not where they will be in a year. This is not just a truth about the lifestyle, but also
one of its beauties.
Is she bi? Does it matter?
“Pet, I’ve eaten a lot of pussy and it hasn’t killed me. You’ll eat some too! It’s like a
Miller Lite… Tastes great and less filling!”

The "Limits" Issues

Since a slave's limits are preferences, a statement of her feelings and her state of
mind in the here and now regarding various activities, emotions and commitments within
the BDSM spectrum, they need to be put into the perspective of reality. The description
of limits as here and now means they are not absolute No’s. As stated, they are
expressions of real concern, hesitancy, and perhaps fear that maybe in the right hands,
under the right circumstances these are areas she could go.
What does that mean to the master? How do you take her there? What does pushing
limits, mean and why does one try?
Exploring your slave’s limits is an important aspect of mastery and certainly one of
the riskiest. By doing so, you are journeying into her psyche and physical well-being. It
is fun to do, but it is not essential. Some masters do not push limits and find slaves
content with that style. There is no hard and fast BDSM rule that you must. Some
couples are quite content living within the parameters of what they know and enjoy.
Learning new skills and exploring new areas of service, in terms of endurance and
obedience, are not essential definers to master-slave living. There is nothing wrong with
that approach, but it is the exception relationship within the BDSM spectrum, rather than
the norm. Most couples do explore her limits. Most masters enjoy continually
examining new aspects of her service and expanding the activities they engage in,
particularly the scope of her service. They do so because they both want it that way. It
is pleasurable, rewarding, exciting and fulfilling on many levels. The intimacy, love,
trust, and affection created, strengthens the bonds between them. In short, it turns their
crank, hardens the noodle and soaks the panties.
Sometimes you know the growth from exploring a limit will benefit her in advance
 of engaging in it; and sometimes you can only hope it will. Yet, you do it, not just for
fun, but also because we mere mortals have instinctual needs to expand, explore and
know things. We are inquisitive beasts that when combined with the frontier spirit of
many dominants and slaves, the need is irrepressible. It is who we are. We like the risk
and reward.
So with the why understood, how becomes the issue. When tackling new areas, it
behooves masters to get into the habit of developing a purpose, an emotional safety net,
and a plan for each step, or scene they take with her. They need not orchestrate each
scene in advance. That is not the meaning at all. Micro-planning it in fact removes
spontaneity and adapting to battlefield conditions, but he should have a purpose laid out
in his mind beforehand. Doing so tends to separate the skilled from the amateurs. Too
often witnessed have been scenes where an inexperienced master has laid claim to
engaging in expanding her limits, arrogantly uttered as post-scene rationalization for a
scene gone bad. Disastrous results are explained as exploration - risk and reward, when
in fact it was just a poorly planned scene. There are times for impromptu use of your
slave. It is healthy and good for you both. But when exploring tough, new limits, it is
essential to have planned the purpose and steps to achieve your goals.
If necessary, engage others to assist and make sure you have adequate uninterrupted
time. Create the exact ambiance and mood you want to accomplish the scene. Plan the
steps, knowing you will likely have to adapt during the scene anyway. Plan for
contingencies. Be aware that not all limit pushes are successful. Occasionally a
slave will react unexpectedly and negatively. Be prepared for the backfire. When it
happens (not if it happens), rely on all the time and effort you have spent building trust
and her belief in your genuine motivations and commitments to not harm her. Mastery is
about passion, but it is also about compassion. When taking her into an area that
backfires, show her your compassion and patience, by reassuring her worth. Sometimes
strong feelings of inadequacy and failure will envelop her when she cannot go where you
wish. Take your time, reassure her that you recognize the difficulty for her and she is a
good girl. But ensure she knows too, she will get there for you. This is not the end.
“Our journey is of little steps, pet - and we set the stage to take another tonight.”
Patience, compassion, and an undivided focus on the goal are wonderful master
traits. Show them to her. Exploring new areas and pushing her limits is a time in your
relationship to focus and put your best efforts forward. Make each time special. She is
special, and so are you, so spoil yourselves with attention and detail.
At times, as creative juices ebb and flow for you, it becomes a strain to think of ways
to expand her limits and move her into new areas that you want explored. Those with
experience will quickly tell you it is difficult to be creative all the time. That is normal.
So we need ways of overcoming those times and there is an effective tool for you to use
when the doldrums set in. It is a technique to organize growth and explore her limits in a
creative and thorough way. You have probably seen it in one form or another, a version
of a BDSM Checklist. They are commonly available and used as a form tool for a master
with a new slave to know what she likes and dislikes, in effect, her preferences. I have
long thought that was a lazy and unromantic approach to learning your slave, when
taking the time for long conversation is more intimate and fun. But to each their own.
That said, let us use the tool to create something different. Let us use the checklist as…
need it be said… a checklist, but to keep track of where we are, not to direct the course.
Here then is a great tool in every master’s arsenal, but only when used to plan a path
through the BDSM spectrum, not how to make that journey. The Limits Checklist is
your atlas. It provides the destinations, but you choose the roads. It is an ideal tool for a
master to refocus his creativity on planning what limits to expand, allowing him to focus
energy on how to accomplish the plan, rather than thinking up what to do next.
Below is an extensive checklist of BDSM activities. It is very straightforward.
There are four columns for each activity and activities are organized by categories. The
categories are Bondage, S&M, Sex, Fetishes, Power Dynamics and Roleplay. The
columns are Activity, Limit, Done and Date.
The first column is a list of activities in that category. Tailor the activity lists for
your particular needs, but these are a good start. These are areas you can explore as you
desire. The second column records her limit expectation in the here and now. Today.
Get her involved and ask her to rate the activities. Just make sure right now, you both
understand, her marking the list is not her subliminal way to manipulate and control.
She is going through it all eventually. This is merely an exercise that you may use to
prioritize, but will certainly use, to assist your memory and be thorough. It may be
months, or years before you get to any particular act, and you will likely have forgotten
her feelings. This reminds you and is a great help in designing how you will go about
accomplishing your goal. It also enables the element of surprise, always a good thing to
mess with a slave’s head.
Usually a simple rating system of 0 to 5 works here. A mark of 5 means she
loves the activity and 1 marks that she is most apprehensive, in effect it is a tough limit
for her. So if she has had anal intercourse in the past and loves it, she would mark 5; and
conversely, if she has never been anally fisted and her bottom puckers in abject fear at
the thought, then 0 is appropriate. Anything that is a boundary, just delete from your
list. Boundaries are etched in stone within the Master-Slave contract, and there is
no need having them listed here too. The third and fourth columns are just to record that
you have explored this and when. It is that simple.
Using this technique simplifies your charting her path enormously, enabling you to
redirect your creativity at how you will explore a limit, rather than trying to think of one
to try. Over time (years probably), simply go through the list in the order you want.
Through discussions with her, you know her thoughts and feelings as to what limits exist
in the here & now. As time goes by, you can see her limits change as you progress
through the list. This is a marvelous technique. It is not what the originators of
 Checklists intended; a way of identifying a slave’s limits, but it is used far more this
way.
Review the list every six months or so, and it reveals two things. Certainly how her
limits have changed, often more liberally, sometimes regressing, but it is there in black
and white for you to analyze. The list can also show a master how active he really is.
Sometimes you will be surprised how few new things you have explored with her lately.
It is worth the effort going to this trouble.
So now you are all set. If you want to push her limits, go for it. Depending on your
mood, pick a 1 or 5 and knock yourself out. Spend your energies making each step
memorable and special, and do not worry about whether you are being thorough and
boring. For masters who say he has gone everywhere with his slave and is bored, throw
this technique at him and see just how much he has really accomplished.
In developing the Limits Checklists for personal use, remember, she is answering the
questions, so mark accordingly.
 No Limits

So now with a methodology to push limits and explore them to the fullest, let us look
at a debate that surfaces from time to time and causes polarization and angst in
groups discussing the BDSM lifestyle.
Is the slave entitled to have limits and is she entitled to say No when commanded to
perform a task?
It is a shame when folks characterize a position of no limits for a slave, as
irresponsible mastery and slave foolishness. It is typical of the surface level thinking
that serves personal agendas, rather as a contributory statement designed to enhance
knowledge and tolerance. What these people have conveniently omitted, or ignored
from their arguments, is that a master has vowed to keep his slave emotionally and
physically safe. Antagonists of no limits make a self-righteousness argument from a
false platform, because with limits defined as her state of mind in the here and now, their
argument does not even apply to the term. All slaves have limits. By the nature of the
definition, they are expressions and opinions of feelings and thought. Masters encourage
slaves to voice their concerns, both because communication and shared intimacy is fun,
and because he wants to know what she feels, before (rarely during), and after he
explores each one. The key component all slaves must believe in, is that when a master
undertakes to venture into areas delicate to her psyche, that she trusts he is cognizant of
the responsibilities, and will abide his oath. He will not give a command, or use her in a
way deliberately causing harm; and she needs to believe that truth When unconditional
trust exists, it eases feelings of misgivings and concern a slave might have with an
activity, making her obedience easier and her master happier. He wants results. He
wants movement. Effort is good, but ultimately results count, and like any leader, he
arms his charges with all he can to achieve the goals he sets.
On that basis, and in context of limits, a slave does not have the right to refuse a
command. She has no need to unless she has knowledge her master does not, that could
harm them, in which case she must disclose it and await his further direction. There is
no valid reason to refuse a command except as deliberate disobedience, or other selfish
reasons. She did not buy into slavery to maintain the right to say No to commands well
within the scope of their relationship. Nor will she enjoy the freedom consensual slavery
offers if allowed to choose what commands she obeys. When trust in her master’s
integrity, skills and motivation exist, she must obey. There is no choice and a master
must enforce this. He knows his slave has feelings and is a caring, vulnerable human
being with worries and concerns, like all of us. He knows and respects it while
managing to achieve results. The freedom for slaves able to trust this unconditionally, is
wonderful.
 Dom Burnout

With all this talk of limits, exploration, creativity and checklists, and then the actual
doing of all these things, it is almost certain, any and all dominants will at some point,
more often, many times, suffer from what is popularly called Dom Burnout. It happens
to everyone and there is no shame when it happens to you. While writing this book, a
labor of love to be certain, there were times I suffered burnout and lacked the creativity
to continue. It is no different for masters managing their slaves’ growth, particularly
when exploring the S&M arts. Dominant burnout is essentially creative fatigue. It
results from the accepted burden to be who we are, constantly looking for ways to enjoy
ourselves, explore the slave’s sexuality and sensuality; and plan mysterious and unique
ways to move along the S&M continuum creatively. Even doing what we love, over and
over, takes energy and creativity. We would have it no other way of course, but that
notwithstanding, it does have an effect leading to creative block and weariness at times.
There are techniques to help overcome this naturally occurring phenomenon that help
enormously and can be intensely satisfying for both the master and slave. Here are three
to help.

You’re Meat Slavegirl - The Fourteen Day Recharge

This little dominant burnout trick consists of two parts and feel free to use the first
part liberally as needed. The recharge occurs over two weeks and it works. Start by
finding some alone time with your slave and kneel her down. Explain that you are
suffering a bout of dom burnout, that you are tired, and need to relieve the mounting
pressure that has led your creative idea bank in overdraft. She probably knows this
before you, such are slaves, but she will certainly appreciate your candor, reinforcing yet
again, your honesty and how important she is. If she does not know what burnout is, tell
her. It is often nothing more than a need for the creative juices to recharge. Instruct her
that for the next seven days you require her to go about her business while you recharge
and reinvigorate. She is not stupid. Slaves know how much work mastery is and they
appreciate it takes a toll. Go on to explain these seven days do not abrogate her
responsibilities as your slave as you are in fact, remaining consistent by telling her
exactly what behavior you require. Then spend the seven days completely forgetting
about your responsibilities as master. Do not think about it. The relief from pressure
will be enormous and welcome.
At the end of the seven days, kneel her down again. Tell her she is a goodgirl and
how pleased you are with her behavior. Give her a little kiss and a hair pull to let her
know. That is always fun. It also sets the table for what is next. Step two in the
recharge is now ready to go. Now she becomes meat. For the next seven days, at
bedtime use her. Use her differently every night, and prohibit her from telling you her
 feelings about what is occurring, until the week has expired. Her inability to
communicate is critical for you in this process. There is no immediate need for her to
express herself each time, so we will use that to advantage.
She endures for you at your will, with no opportunity to provide feedback. She is
meat, your fucktoy, whipping girl, cum depository, whatever you want her to be. Then
during that second week, use her at bedtime only. Use her roughly, softly, whatever way
you want, but do it selfishly. Fuck her, whip her, and use her for your pleasure. Do not
worry if she cums, or does not (though often she will more easily). Do not worry
whether she even enjoys what you do (though it is almost inevitable she will). When
done using her for the night, give her a simple goodgirl and go to sleep.
This does several things, all of them very good. You have responsibly dealt with a
natural occurring phenomenon in the art of mastery, that being burnout. You have taken
the pressure off yourself completely in the first week and narrowed your focus to
physical communication without the emotional aspects usually incumbent with slave use,
in the second. And you have created a wonderful mindset for her. She is used for a
week, without the ability to communicate her feelings immediately. Unquestionably this
will magnify her feelings of submission, of having no control (assumedly something she
wants), but in a positive way that shows you care, and that she will be heard at the
appropriate time. Believe me when I profess, she will be intensely focused on her
submission for the week. It is a by-product of the main purpose here, but an incredibly
good one. What a marvelous technique that both overcomes dom burnout, and
reinforces her belief in slavery. A win-win certainty.

Story Night

The second technique to overcome burnout is again simple but effective. It does not
require a break, such as the Fourteen Day Recharge, but is as effective on a different
time line. It is called Story Night. It is your lazy night and most effective when done
again, right at bedtime.
Start by finding some BDSM short stories on the internet. Print them off and you are
virtually ready to go. That night, bind and blindfold her to the bed. Let her settle quietly
for a few minutes. Then, simply read her the story. What makes this an exceptional
burnout recovery and avoidance tool, is no creative effort is required on your part.
Simply, what happens in the story, happens to her. Someone else designed the scene for
you. Whatever the story-slave endures, so too does your slave. If the story-slave is
nipple clamped, slap a clamp on your slave. If she is forced to give a blowjob well, you
know what to do. Stories can easily be edited to accommodate your situation, so you
need not find the perfect story, just edit it the way you want. The bonus is that since she
is blindfolded, your voice becomes her only reality. By reading dramatically, her world
becomes the story, she the story-slave, resulting in a great mind fuck. Pulling it off is as
 easy as a bum slap.
The need for creativity on your part is removed. Just follow the script. That is why
it is Lazy Night. Easing pressure on the creative process is our goal and this technique
works. It is a wonderful adventure and one I try to use monthly.

Breaking Habits

Sitting around one evening with three master friends, conversation took an
interesting turn, resulting in a startling discovery. It began as a conversation about habits
we develop as masters when using our slaves. We recognized and acknowledged that
creativity abounds in the scenes we developed, the places and ways our slaves are used.
Incidentally, the slaves sat listening on the floor, their heads bobbing agreement, as if
they were at the end stage of a memorable blowjob. But, that is irrelevant to this story.
In the course of the conversation, it came upon us that each, in his own way had
inadvertently developed patterns of slave use. It became clear, that while we were all
loaded with every kind of BDSM tool imaginable; and used all of it at various times, we
tended to use our favorites more often. So much so, that many pieces of equipment were
rarely used. We were not particularly pleased with ourselves at this revelation, but it
illustrated how even the creative get mired in habit.
So we made an agreement over the next month that none of us would use our
favorites. Instead, we all focused on rarely used equipment, if for no other reason than to
break the habit, but also to refine and develop skills with those tools that probably
needed work.
And an amazing thing happened.
We discovered a technique to overcome dominant burnout. For a month, four pretty
little slave girls were treated to refreshed, invigorated masters, who experimented
without much creative thought having to go into it. The new equipment did that for us.
By simply changing equipment, we were refreshed and added creativity to what had
become stale. It worked. Why, who knows, but four masters can vouch for the
technique, so it is worth giving it a shot when the doldrums hit. Just put away what you
normally use and switch her up. You will both smile.

Boundaries

My banker pointed westward.

“See that fence LT? That is the boundary of the amount of money the bank will lend
you.”
 Yes, we all have boundaries and slaves are no different than masters, or anyone in
this society. That a slave can have boundaries is merely recognition of the human
condition. We all have our fears, foibles, pathologies, or plain squick factors, and
recognizing a slave has them like everyone, does not nullify her ability to be a slave. In
fact, her being able to express them is both healthy and necessary, something your
mastery encourages and identifies. Boundaries by definition are simply areas both of
you agree never to go, for whatever reason. Agreement of any boundaries must be
mutual and zealously guarded. They vary with every couple, and there are no hard and
fast rules that certain things must, or cannot be identified as boundaries. The laws of the
land are of course boundaries that take precedent over any the couple make and
responsible masters recognize that. Beyond the obvious anything illegal boundary,
common ones for many, but not all in the lifestyle are scat related activities, bestiality
and minors. Of course, bestiality and minors are illegal, so that is redundant.
Discussing people’s boundaries is quite humorous and they vary from the sublime to
the ridiculous, unless of course they are yours. You hear them all if you listen long
enough, from spiders to snakes, heights, to branding and everything in between. Just
know that boundaries are the only thing worth negotiating with your slave.

Breaking Boundaries – Accepting Responsibility

When you are using your slave casually, or otherwise, as master, we at times push
the envelope. Let’s face it; many love this lifestyle for that very reason. You are well
versed in why breaching a boundary is not the cool path to take, but sometimes it
happens. So now there is a situation a boundary is breached. So how is it handled?
As master you have to accept the reality as it exists and accept you did the nasty
deed. Recognize secondly, that it cannot be undone. There is nothing constructive
achieved by sweeping it under the carpet as if it did not happen. She knows it did and
you know too. So it is a matter of dealing with it. If the slave knows you did not intend
a malfeasance, then a simple communication between you should clear up the issue.
Hey, shit happens when you are involved in swatting people. It is a lifestyle of high risk,
high reward.
If however, you clearly and deliberately extended yourself beyond the agreed
boundaries, for any number of reasons including testosterone, showing off, or plain
arrogant stupidity, then you will be lucky to have a slave come morning. Not that you
deserve to have one if you are that cavalier with her safety and your integrity.
But one thing learned long ago is that generally, mistakes of this sort are bred from
poor communication, ignorance, or lack of dominant skill. Those are repairable
breaches. Deliberate malfeasance is not. Communicate and be honest, it is the only path
worth taking.
 It’s Not Always What You Think

For a quarter of a century he had been involved with slaves. He had heard every
story, every anecdote, the successes and failures. They had served to form a very
realistic approach to what this lifestyle was - the good, the bad and the ugly. Though not
jaded, he was circumspect on accepting things at face value. He heard enough from both
sides of the spectrum to know the game. But, there he sat, in a small diner, staring at a
slave, his jaw just hanging open, completely speechless in utter disgust and
astonishment. The story she told was horrific in itself, but the ending was a nightmare.
It had started with a simple phone call, some two hours earlier.
The girl looked awful. Getting to the restaurant was a struggle for her. Sitting was
worse. She was emotionally and physically battered and her eyes red from tears. He sat
across the booth, quietly being there for her, knowing that a sympathetic ear, even from a
stranger would help. The call had come earlier, from a friend in Virginia. A slave was
in trouble in his neighborhood and could he please go and make sure she was all right.
So he sat here in the small diner, looking at the most forlorn face he had seen in some
time. For the last hour she had haltingly related the story of her afternoon. It was
difficult to hear, but some big-eared patrons in nearby booths ate quickly, leaving with
parting looks of disgust.
It took awhile to start, but then the story poured out. She was a slave, a middle-aged
woman, seemingly intelligent, who had gotten involved with a dominant from the
internet. Well, let’s let her tell the story…
“So we spent time Sir, got to know one another and I felt safe meeting him.”
Just this bit of information had been difficult to get from her in the state she was.
She used her Kleenex and continued.
“We were to meet at the hotel. I’d taken all the precautions, knew his name and all
that stuff. He made me feel very submissive. He was very strict and demanding in what
he wanted. There would be a note in the lobby for me with his room number, and I was
to go up there promptly at 2p.m. He told me to be on time, or I would not be admitted.”
The master sat across and listened intently. Red flags were popping up all over, but
he stayed quiet and let her go on.
“So I did as told, trying to be a good slave. I knocked at exactly 2p.m. and he
answered the door in his leathers. Before I could come in, he demanded I strip in the
hallway. I didn’t like that, but thought if I was quick I could get inside unseen by
anyone. He took my clothes and purse and made me crawl into the room.”
She was fidgeting and in obvious discomfort. Sitting was painful. He could see it in
 her face.
“Do you want to go for a walk as we talk, pet?”
“No, I’m ok Sir, it just hurts allot, but walking is worse.”
He smiled sympathetically all too aware of the pain slaves can endure.
“Sip your coffee pet. Take your time, we’re in no rush.”
She tried to smile, but was consumed by what she had endured for the last four
hours.
“Once inside Sir, he grabbed me by the hair and put a gag on me. It was tight and
my jaw hurt right away. We had discussed safewords and he told me I could use one.
When the gag was on, he gave me a ball to hold and said letting go of the ball would be
my safeword. I wanted to drop it right there, because the gag was too tight, but I didn’t,
I knew he would be angry.”
He nodded and watched her struggle with the memories.
“Then it got awful Sir. He wasn’t kind, or gentle, or any of the things I expected
from him. He tied me to the bed on my back and then straddled my chest and sat on me.
I could hardly breathe he was so heavy and I tried to wiggle to get him off. He knew
what he was causing, because he slapped my face so hard I saw stars, and then told me
he knew I couldn’t breathe and that was too fucking bad! For the first time, I thought I
had made a horrible mistake. I was panicking.”
He poured more coffee from the carafe as she paused to gather her thoughts.
Obviously this was very hard for her.
“Then he beat me Sir, like nothing I ever imagined. He took a cane to my front and
beat me everywhere. I was screaming into the gag and let go of the ball trying to get
him to stop. But he was laughing. He even picked it up and threw it away. He told me
there was no fucking safeword, that slaves don’t get those. Then he started beating me
again. I think that is when I first passed out.”
The master sat calmly across the table, but his eyes were burning as the story
unfolded. The seamy, ugly, underbelly of the BDSM world had reared its head again.
Another predator, another horror story, they were becoming all too common as the
lifestyle opened to any psychopath with a computer and quick wit.
“I came to when he rolled me over and re-tied me on my stomach. The pain just
lying on it was awful. And then he started again. I think he used a whip and a cane, but
I was beyond screaming or noticing. All I wanted was to die and end this. I could feel
the blood running down my back and thighs. My mouth was parched. He was way over
my safeword and the limits we agreed on. He was out of control and I knew I was going
to die. I passed out again at some point, because the next thing I remember was his
 pushing into my ass. He knew that was a hard limit for me, I don’t like and don’t want
anal sex. He had agreed, but it didn’t stop him. The pain was worse than anything I
have ever felt and later I found blood.”
The master fingered his cell phone. It was burning in his hand, 911 itching to be
pushed, but he needed to hear her out.
“When I came too again, he was dressed. He leaned close to me and spit in my face
and said, I was a worthless piece of trash. He untied me, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t
do anything except lie there. He threw the room key on my back and said, ‘the room is
paid for slut, leave when you want,’ and then he left.”
“So that is when you called Nancy in Virginia?” he asked?
“Yes Sir, not right away, but yes Sir.”
“Why did you call all the way down there, pet?”
“I don’t know anyone local Sir, other than that bastard today, you are the first
person I’ve met locally.”
He nodded and thought while she sipped her coffee. He was struggling with how to
proceed. Certainly an option was involving the Police and that was how he was leaning.
But more than anything, she needed someone to rely on and trust. She needed a friend.
Despite all the safeguards a slave can take, this sort of thing could still happen. Even
with safe calls, identification and disclosure, SSC, safewords, and RACK, it bothered
him this kind of abusive criminal behavior went on, in a lifestyle he held dearly for its
good side.
“Pet, I know this is difficult for you. Have you thought about getting medical
attention? There is no telling the damage that may have been done and more than
anything, you need to be safe.”
“No Sir, I would rather not involve others. I always feel this way for a few days
afterwards.”
He looked at her puzzled.
“Pardon pet, I’m not sure what you mean? Has this sort of thing happened before?
“Yes Sir. This is the third time he has done this to me.”
And his mouth dropped open.

The Safety Police

Folks in the BDSM genre love to spew talk endlessly about their holy grail of issues,
 safety. They sterilize what we do by lecturing endlessly about it and all the systems,
precautions and safe networks to minimize risk. There is ad nauseum education being
done about the risks involved in this lifestyle. That is all good to the point that it goes.
With noble purpose and good intentions, many work hard to educate and make the
experience as safe as possible for others, perhaps less experienced than they. I say
perhaps with reason, because sometimes it is they who have less experience and seek to
impose their values on others who practice the lifestyle in a different niche than they
enjoy. Sometimes, these self-appointed safety police are know-it-all busybodies, loosely
masking their agendas in a cloak called safety. My goodness they love to mount their
white chargers and fight the holy crusade.
The Safety Police as they are commonly and often unlovingly called, are those
involved in going beyond educating, to the point of intervention, often overly zealous in
their pursuit of their way, their values, their definitions, as the holy writ. But, while that
is an unfair generalization for the many that do good work educating about risk, it does
reflect some of the dogmatic thinking that goes on in this lifestyle. So let us examine the
whole safety issue as it relates to mastery on an individual basis, with a slave you have
committed to. To the casual S&M player, whose involvement is a Friday night swat of
some casual friend’s ass, at the local club, well, this book was never about you. It is
unlikely you will get much from this perspective.

Safewords

The use of safewords in the BDSM culture has been a source of controversy for some
time. It need not be though. It is a straightforward element that just needs some context
applied. Identifying and segmenting different levels of commitments to BDSM and
master-slave is the only requirement to make sense of the issue, and treat it fairly.
Whether it is the long-term goal to master your partner, or be a Play-Top, who engages
in casual relationships using S&M at fetish nights, predicates how the safeword issue
applies. Neither situation is wrong, but they are very different.
Commonly, the purpose of safewords is to keep a submissive partner safe. It is
designed to prevent her from going into distress, or signaling when she is. The
underlying principle is that sometimes couples play in an adversarial style. They
deliberately engage in play that appears non-consensual, a style where the slave is
screaming, “no-no, please stop, don’t do that”, as part of their kink. Being taken and
over-powered against her will is a big turn-on. Fighting him and screaming is part of the
thrill. They like it. It sounds like fun to me too. Hey, it is my book - I can editorialize
when I want.
That style of play poses an immediate problem though. How is the dominant to
know if No means no, or if no means, oh you bastard, I secretly love this, but I must be a
lady and protest. Just don’t stop, I’m going to cum. See the problem? Combine that
with some dominants and sadists who just will not stop administering pain when they are
riding elevated testosterone levels, lack common sense, or experience, or think that is
what a slave wants; and you begin to see a recipe for disaster. In these situations, with
the word no effectively eliminated as an option for the slave, something was needed that
could provide a measure of sane safety, for everyone involved. So someone decided the
best solution was to put slaves in charge of safety and safewords came to be.
Huh? Did I miss something? Does something, somehow seem wrong?
Slaves are to be in charge of safety?
Masters bereft of responsibility?
Who is the leader here?
Something is amiss.
Read on if you are confused.
Typically, safewords are used during physical interaction with a slave, spoken by the
slave. The most common are RED, meaning, stop what you are doing big boy, I’m in
distress; YELLOW, a synonym for ok, that hurt you bugger, take it easy, GREEN,
which is the go signal, don’t stop, this is fun, you are a good fantasy arm giving me
exactly what I want. But my all-time favorite is BLUE, the ultimate slave topping
command. Blue, babydoll,” she said, casually puffing her cigarette. That was nice
buster, now try another toy from your bag of tricks, I’m bored with that one.
See what happens when you give a slave power? She wants to top you from the
bottom.
Blue parody aside, there is a place for safewords in the community. When
S&M play involves people not familiar with each other and heavy play is anticipated,
they are imperative. Certainly, a top would be wise to insist his charge be at least
cognizant of her safeword and can use it without burdening anyone. Where trust is not
absolute, motivations, or skills are in question, then safewords have a place. It is just not
worth the hassle of overdoing it and harming her. Safewords are handy tools that serve
the purpose well.
But, then there is the master-slave relationship, where a couple have taken the time,
and made the commitments to each other represented in their oaths as master and slave,
and in whom trust is absolute. Are safewords important then? Do they serve any
purpose? Here is a controversial and different point of view than the Safety Police
would like advocated, but hell, lets cut to the chase, call it as it is, and not let others
dictate our personal relationships.
Do not use safewords.
If you are a master and she a slave, then they are unnecessary and in fact,
 inconsistent to the ideals and pragmatic commitments made in the master-slave realm.
Those less experienced, wishing to express how unsafe I am by advocating this, please
do not bother. Rather than vilify and preach, think carefully about these words.
Safewords are a ridiculous notion that absolves the master of any responsibility for
his actions in a master-slave relationship.
Ouch!
Safety Police Alert!
Whoa Nellie! That hit the mark – and here is why.
Over the years and throughout my travels, I have come to see a trait common in
many slaves. It is almost universal it is so prevalent. It is simply that she will go to
almost any length to avoid using a safeword. She will resist at almost all costs, often to
her detriment, feeling it somehow fails her master. Are you doubting the assertion, then
ask a slave and see what her answer is. Now there is a problem. He is depending on her
to provide her own safety and every fiber in her body is resisting his wishes for altruistic
reasons. She does not want to disappoint him and wuss out. She is then potentially in
harm’s way and the master may not even know it. The ideal situation is corrupted.
Goals are in conflict, and it is wholly the responsibility of the master to solve it. After
all, he created it by transferring his responsibility for safety to her if he allows use of a
safeword.
For many dominants, a slave with a safeword is a license to carry on, wail away,
utterly devoid of responsibility for his charge. That is perfect for him, he loves it and
relies on it. It is a built in excuse for excess, easily justified later, as her failure to use the
safeword. He believes he has done no wrong. He makes her the easy scapegoat for all
his errors, and sadly, thinks he is innocent and a good dominant. By relying on her
safeword, he has placed her welfare squarely and wrongly in her hands. For cripes sake,
think about it. You are asking a girl to make a logical important decision when in an
exaggerated emotional condition, often incoherent and drugged on endorphins. That is
nuts. You have to know better. Promising to keep her emotionally and physically safe,
does not mean tricking her, and transferring all that responsibility back to her,
immediately the moment things get risky. In relying on her safeword, he has undertaken
an abhorrent corruption of the master's responsibilities, and taken a cowardly path.
There is a better way.
Learning to read and understand your slave's emotions and physical condition is part
of the joy and art of mastery. Accepting responsibility for what you demand from her is
a tonic for the soul. It is the best part. That is largely what good mastery is.
Safewords are not just a corruption of the ideals he set out, but they are the lazy-ass,
immature dominants best friend.
There is an old axiom in the master-slave world that applies, coined specifically for
S&M use. The lost saying is, "There is no shame in leaving a slave wanting more". It is
simple, easy to understand, and a tool used to maintain control the master seeks, the
slave does not want, with an opportunity to grow safely. It tells her she is precious, that
she will follow, but on your schedule, in your way; that you lead; you understand power;
her needs, and will use her without defaulting power back.
Instead of safewords, try patience. Move a slave along safely, slowly, faster if
feasible, but in a way that expresses to her You are safe. I'm in control and responsible
enough to bypass safewords, taking the longer more fulfilling path of learning you over
time. Learn her. Learn to read her body.
If you see her head bobs when she is floating, know that is a sign she is in happy-
happy land. If she is jumping and twitching when she is normally passive at a particular
stage of a scene, it may not be working that time. If your goal is to take her to sub-space
and her eyes suddenly snap open, it is likely you hit her too hard, or broke rhythm
keeping her from sinking to that magical place. Check her limbs. If her hands are
normally cold, then feeling them cold does not tell you much. But if she is making a fist
over and over, there is a good chance she is cramping in the cuff. Whisper in her ear and
ask her, she will nod if there is a problem. Be observant and be diligent.
There is an old trick about reading women that I am reluctant to share in this book,
but will in hopes any slave I own now, or in the future forgets she ever read it. It has
served me well for many decades.
“You’re wet girl,” he smirked.
There was a pause and she blushed crimson.
“How did you know Sir?” she said quietly.
He just chuckled. “Pet if I tell you, I would have to shoot you. It’s a dom secret.”
“Oh, you are too kind to do that. Please Sir, what is it? What am I doing that lets
you know?”
“Pet, you don’t have to get nasty. Dom’s don’t want to be “too kind”. Don’t tell
people that, it could ruin my reputation” and he chuckled again.
“Ok, ok Sir, you’re an evil, sadistic, monster, now tell me please, pretty please with
cherries on top?”
“That’s much better, pet. Flattery will get you spanked.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing he would never tell.
There is a telltale sign common with most every woman I have known that is a
surefire giveaway they are horny and want to be fucked. Whether it’s in a restaurant,
driving in the car, or at a fetish event, it works everywhere and is so simple. Should I
 tell you? Ah, what the hell, enjoy it as I have.
When a slave is sitting and is horny, almost certainly one, or both of her thighs will
start to move. It might be a gentle tapping of the foot, a wiggle back and forth, a slight
opening and closing of her legs in what appears a very casual habit, but in fact is
anything but. She is communicating to you very directly that she needs you. Now! The
clever part is, it is very subtle, she rarely knows she is doing it, and for the observant
male, it is money in the bank.
The reason for disclosing the secret is to illustrate that she will communicate, she
will tell you, and you must learn to read those signs. It may not always be a conscious
communication, but it will be there. You must learn your slave and her signals. The
signs are there, telling you virtually everything you need to know. Safewords will not do
that, learning her will.
Be cognizant though, that like safewords, nothing is perfect. Sometimes mistakes are
made. But, better a mistake made by you, than one she makes because you could not be
bothered to learn her. Sometimes too, she will get hurt. But stubbing her toe hurts too.
If she wants a guarantee of perfect safety, you can do that easily. Just do not ever use
her. There, now she is safe.
You can show the patience of a master, or rush in blindly. She can trust or not. Try
it. Avoid safewords. You will be amazed how good it feels for those using S&M as a
tool, rather than an end. Safewords are rather like slinkies. They are useless to have
around, but great fun to kick down the stairs.
All that said, I now retract it all.
There is a place for safewords in a master-slave relationship. If the pitter-patter, soft
sound of little feet in the hallway at 2a.m. is followed by a door rattle and "Mommy?
Daddy?", those could be considered viable safewords. I cannot think of any others.

SSC & RACK

Feel good rhetoric with limited benefit. Some might call that propaganda, such is the
purpose of terms like SSC and RACK. There, how is that for laying it on the table?
If you are unaware, SSC stands for Safe, Sane Consensual, one of the holy mantras of
the Safety Police. RACK, is SSC’s little cousin, the acronym for Risk Aware Consensual
Kink.
Many of the labels used in this lifestyle are naively misleading, bring more comfort
food, consumed to sterilize what we do for mass acceptance, than providing contributing
real nourishment. Mollifying critics of what we do, seems important to some, yet, a
couple’s private affairs are no one’s business except their own. So for reasons of guilt,
 perhaps acceptance, or self-importance, or other reasons, terms are devised, to try and
explain, in a word or two, what unfairly characterizes the vast genre of
BDSM relationships. They are feel-good terms, appeasing the misgivings people have
about veering from social norms. They are more of a disservice to those inside the
lifestyle, regardless of any questionable rationalizing purpose they might serve for
vanillas, who try understanding, only to judge us anyway.
Perhaps they served a purpose at first; perhaps we are finally growing and moving
past neophyte platitudes. SSC and RACK are two terms that have had their day come and
go. Or have they?
If you pooh-pooh recognizing SSC as some magical standard we must all abide by,
you are labeled dangerous and irresponsible, then vilified far and wide.
Yet what does the term mean? Safe? What is safe? Who’s standard of safety is the
acceptable one? The girl in the diner thought she was safe. Did you agree while reading
along, while the story unfolded? I suspect you thought it was crazy and she was being
abused in the worst way. I surely did sitting across the booth from her, hearing the story
told. Unquestionably, she thought she was safe, at least the first two times the
dominant put her through that scene. She obviously liked it, she came back again for
more. Perhaps there was even a fourth time. I did not stick around to find out. Perhaps
she always played the defiled maiden card after each scene, with some unsuspecting
local sympathetic ear. Maybe that was part of her kink too. There are certainly enough
drama queens and fruitcakes in the lifestyle, not to dismiss her as another.
Did SSC apply to her, help her in anyway? Did it have any meaning at all? Should
we judge she, or the dominant are not safe? How do you know it was not just their
kink? Did the term mean anything to them, or is it the standard others apply to it that
matters? Quite frankly it is no one in the lifestyles business what went on in that hotel
room, or whether they consider it safe. It was a rough S&M scene, but not much more
than that. Many people, most in fact, do not like rough S&M, so for them it would be
unsafe, and quite probably insane. Well, bully for them, they were not asked to
participate, so have no right to sit in judgment whether it is safe, or sane for those
involved. It was consensual. She would not have gone back three times otherwise. That
she played poor me at the end is just a red herring for the BDSM community to throw
around. It is just a psychosis she and her shrink need to work on, and leave others out of
it.
Having witnessed rougher, more violent and humiliating scenes than that, practiced
by very sane, responsible, law abiding citizens in this society, the actual S&M, while
rough, was not that big a deal. Yet, I suspect most readers felt disgust and perhaps
anger reading the story. So what? Do not get involved with that kind of scene then. But
do not call them unsafe, insane, or non-consensual, because for them, they were not.
SSC is so arbitrary and so context specific, that it is meaningless for anyone trying to
assess another’s play.
 SSC and RACK are dangerous terms in this lifestyle, leading to intolerance. They
also provide an umbrella of safety that does not exist. They are noble of purpose, but
useless when applying them as the abiding standard. If they are to have any relevance at
all, it must be on an individual couple basis, the frame of reference confined to their
private lives. When you apply a standard of behavior that effects the individual couple’s
interactions, as a community standard, you are breaching people’s right to privacy and to
live freely. These are individual freedoms and values we uphold and have fought for in
western culture.
So, for the master, let’s dispense with the terms SSC and RACK. Our integrity and
moral character will define how we develop the relationship with our slave. But, if we
need a term to fire around, lets try this one, it is at least more fun…
“Safe, Loved, Useful, Tortured!”
You do the acronym.

Mind Fuck #14 - “My Little Pink Glow-Stick

It is not always the flippancy and errors of masters that provide so much humor to
our lives, but rather sometimes, it is just poking fun at an idea that should never have
seen the light of day. Attending what was then a newly organized public play party, was
just such an event.
.....
It was a dark and stormy night. Foreboding evil hung in the dank air. Every nerve
was alive and tingling, and sweaty palms were soaked in morbid trepidation. Fair
maidens of questionable virtue risked all, in the castle bowels where debauchery, masked
in warm smiles and nervous anticipation lurked ominously. Shadows skulked in dark
corners, good or evil, no one knew.
Suddenly, with a flash and burst of smoke, Glow-Stick-Man appeared to the rescue.
In a dash, he raced to action. Faster than a speeding whip, he pinned and stapled,
slapped and glued, labeling everyone in sight. Pigeonholing and categorizing into
simplistic needs, he whisked through his task with nary a dissenter in sight. Yes Glow-
Stick-Man! More powerful than a speeding flogger; able to leap to conclusions in a
single bound; yes Glow-Stick-Man, ensuring all who want to play, do not go home
unmarked!
Despite this wonderful fantastic utopia, it is hard to get my head around why my
Little Pink Glow-Stick is important to people at a play party.
Little Pink Glow-Stick you say?
 Well yes, my nice warm, fuzzy, neon glowing Pink Stick, the one given me to wear
at the play party so everyone can categorize, pigeonhole, mock, jibe, sneer at, laugh over
and drool, marking me as a dominant sort. Pink colored because the sadistic organizers
undoubtedly decided it is cute having masters wearing a pink Glow-Stick. That way
everyone knows those dastardly fellows lurking in the corners and skulking about the
tables are scouring the place for victims.
But, I am having trouble getting my head around this concept. I well enough
understand the theory; it is not rocket science. Let those unable to communicate for
themselves, be communicated for by the Glow Stick Police. That is easy enough to
grasp. It is how it will actually work that has me puzzled.
See folks, I have this silly habit of considering many things when and if, I choose to
use a slave at a play party. One of the most important considerations is the atmosphere
at the party. Some parties just do not feel right, for any number of reasons. Some do.
One never knows. But one thing I do not like, is being forced, by anyone, to decide
before I am ready. When arriving at a glowing party, the Glow-Stick Police forced me to
choose a color. Maybe they have picked pink in some perverse logic, to designate
dominants that you can approach to play. Perhaps wearing a green stick signifies an
observer only, while purple sticks are the masochistic sorts, in need of a thorough
thrashing. Certainly the ever-changing color stick is for switches. But lets jump ahead
and assume the Glow-Stick version of the old gay Hanky Code is in use.
Upon arrival, the Glow-Stick-Police will ask a master to pick a glow-stick
color. Now, this places an immediate burden and obligation on him. He will have to
know exactly his intentions for the evening, a case that is not always apparent at the
beginning. The seemingly innocent Machiavellian little Pink Stick is forcing him to
yield to the ascendency of the Glow-Stick Police to determine his evening.
However, it is safe to say with absolute certainty, that dominants are not well skilled
in submitting to any higher authority when it comes to interaction with slaves. Even
more so when said slaves are members of the Glow-Stick Police themselves. Not only
that, but it places those seeing his Pink Stick, in the awkward position of thinking it is
interested in play, when we know the little Pink Stick can be so fickle.
Now, in my case just because my Stick might be emitting pink, does not mean I will
not be glowing red if I am harangued all night by wannabe Purple Sticks wanting a
piece of my Pink Stick. You see, sometimes I change my mind and sometimes I do not.
Heaven help the slave who does not know whether I am an available fantasy arm, or the
poor slut's worst nightmare. Ironically, having the option puts power back into the
slave’s hands… tsk tsk. But theoretically, as deemed by the Glow-Stick Police, for the
prospective slave, apparently my little Pink Stick has already made up my mind for me,
and some say that is often the case with men.
So let us assume for the moment, I have control of my Pinky and selected it with
 great care at the door. I even unzipped a bit of leather and let it dangle for all to see.
Now what if I picked wrong? Can my Pink Stick be exchanged? Is there a restocking
fee? A No Returns, monogamy-stick only policy? Hmmmm? And if I change more
than once, does that make me Glow-Stick-Poly, which incidentally, is a damned fine
online nick if someone cares to steal it. Worse yet, with so many slaves loving to touch
leather, is my Pink Stick safe from casual fondling. Has anyone really yet developed
safe Pink Stick protection, or are the Glow-Stick Police working on this?
Is it really anyone’s business to know whether I want to use a slave or not? Are we
collectively so into voyeurism and poking our noses into other’s business, to want to sit
and snicker that Pinky Boy over there, wants to play but is not getting any? Or is it the
same growing need by some organizers to impose rules on the assumption they are the
only adults present. That does not sit well with responsible dominant men predisposed
to doing their own thing. We want to encourage experienced masters to attend events
rather than treat them as requiring supervision? While the Pink Stick brain may be
understood, the responsible masters’ is obviously not.
Masters are quite capable of deciding if and who they will use, and make that known
by exercising good manners and forthright communication, without dangling their Pink
Stick. Being approached by a bevy of half-naked slave girls, because we have well
displayed, glowing Pink Sticks, might be an ego boost, but we are quite capable of
approaching those to whom we are interested, without that help.
There needs to be an assumption that members of the public BDSM lifestyle are
adults. Has behavior at events become so immature that we need to replace good
manners, polite social behavior, and intelligent conversation with Glow-Sticks? Or are
event organizers so self-important they exclusively empower themselves to make other's
decisions. If so, perhaps the assumption about adults attending the party is wrong.
 Chapter VIII - Using Your Slave
Conquering Slave Fear

It is not unusual for a slave, particularly one just coming to the lifestyle, feeling her
way along, exploring her unique needs for the first time, to have fears. Inevitably she
feels a need to overcome those fears for a master, even before submitting. It is not only
unnecessary; it can potentially deprive her master the joy of taking her there. She needs
a different perspective.
“Relax pet. You need to understand more about masters.”
“Many things will be demanded of you if you chose a life of slavery. Thinking and
intelligence will be required. You will have to be honest, and creative, your opinions
and ideas, research and knowledge, must be made available to your master when he
needs it. He might even require you overcome your fears. He might not too. That is his
choice. But if he chooses to go there, it is his responsibility to lead you. It is not up to
you to conquer your fears, it is up to him to lead you safely past them. Your
responsibility is to rely on the trust you gave.”
“Give to your master. He wants all of you. Don’t deprive him of the joy of leading.”

Blackheart

So, what is Blackheart you ask? Well, to start with, it is fun. It is a characteristic of
mastery, brave mastery, that aspiring dominants are wise to develop. The good masters
all have it. It is the ability and courage to take the one you love, the girl who submitted
to you unconditionally, and then respect her submission by using it to push. Blackheart
is taking her to the very edge and making her look over.
Blackheart is the need and indeed, courage, in a dominant, to actually take a slave to
the edge of her limits, the need to grow her, to not just master the sensual aspects of
master-slave, but also the painful, sometimes seemingly cruel aspects of this lifestyle, as
judged by outsiders. Taking calculated risk, knowing we are in a courageous
relationship of immense trust, is blackheart.
“You are the kindest, gentlest, most cruel, evil, son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever met, Sir.”
“Thank you, pet. Flattery will get you spanked.”

Sub-Space
 It has been suggested sub-space is the state of mind, when a slave is at peace with her
submission, has accepted it as part of who she is, and smiles in the tranquility of a life
well grounded. Quite frankly, that is an outstanding description too, but not what is
addressed here. What needs exploring here is Sub-space - Happy-Happy Land -
Floating – Flying - The Drop, call it what you will, it is that special place you can take
your slave by utilizing varying degrees of sado-masochistic means that is really quite
marvelous.
The Dungeon Monitor approached, terror on his face. The slave was convulsing
under the blanket. Her master was not concerned though and kept her pinned beneath
his boot. The slave had been used hard by any standards. Only the suspension mitts had
kept her from collapsing, when her legs gave out. Though her back and buttocks were
deep red, there were no welts or cuts. The use she had gone through was long. Starting
sensually, growing in intensity, the hour wore on. To onlookers it was obvious this
master and slave had a special connection. Despite the violence, there was a
calm tranquility about the scene. The rhythm and flow he deliberately effected dropped
her, so melodic in nature, creating surreal timelessness for those watching. Her head
tilted awkwardly sideways, almost lying on her shoulder at the end, and she hung like a
limp doll from the cross. Very obviously she was deep in sub-space.
Wrapped warmly, she lay on the rug circled around her master’s leg, pinned and
safe in her cocoon. That’s when the DM approached. He mustn’t have been very
experienced, and why he had been appointed to oversee what he obviously didn’t
understand was a mystery. She had lain still at first, reveling in her submission, feeling
the peace at having endured and obeyed so well. Her mind was alert, but in that special
fog reserved for her master. She heard his words, processed them on some level, but her
body was gone, limp and useless. Control of her limbs wasn’t possible. She lay
peacefully, absorbing and processing, feeling and experiencing. She was just there, in
her small world with the exotic pain and her master. Then the convulsions began.
“Is she ok? Will she die? Do you want help? Should I call the EMS people?”
The master looked up hearing the DM’s words, but his face spoke a different
message. The real message was “please dear gawd, don’t let her die on my watch”.
Her convulsions terrified him. Sub-space was merely a term he’d read about.
Fortunately for the DM, though he didn’t realize it, a friend guided him aside guiding
him away from the master’s face. People in positions of authority over this master had
better have as much knowledge about what was going on as he, or his penchant for
suffering fools poorly would race to the surface. The slave was convulsing badly now
and he knew it appeared she was in distress to onlookers inexperienced with the
phenomenon of deep S&M, endorphins and sub-space. What he saw though, was the
most beautiful woman in the world, his slave, who trusted and knew where she had been
taken. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted to float, to endure, to share the
intimacy this place brought them.
 He decided to mollify the crowd and surprise her. Extracting his leg, he slipped off
the couch to the floor and sat beside her. With her head on his lap, he gently stroked her
forehead, wrapped an arm around her, caressed her convulsions and slowly brought her
back. His slave would be glowing inside at the unexpected affection. Her place was at
his boots, a place she loved. This would be a nice surprise and heighten the experience
for them both.
Sub-space, in the BDSM world, is described differently by almost everyone,
reflecting its individual nature. Every slave is unique, and no universal blueprint exists
detailing what it is, or how it is achieved. Understanding the physiology, chemistry and
mental aspects at work though, can be done with relative ease. Recognizing what it is,
that it is different for each, that there is also a mental component, and that plans can be
tailored to get her there, is possible.
I am not a slave, nor a bottom, so cannot speak first hand of sub-space experiences.
It is not an area I want to travel, nor will. I can however, speak about it with expertise,
from a dominant point of view. Well, from that perspective and the one time I
inadvertently got in its way, experiencing it up close and personal.
My solitary sojourn into sub-space was a Kodak moment, one catching me by
surprise at the time. It happened on vacation with my slave one hot summer morning, on
a deck at an isolated cottage on the shores of Georgian Bay in Canada. Sub-space that
day was inadvertent, begun of noble intentions. An urge had overcome my middle-aged
brain to get in better shape, and running each morning seemed like a good idea. Ok,
fine, it was a seriously dumb idea, so sue me. But, run I did and on the third, or fourth
morning, decided to push myself. So armed with a stopwatch, I started off down the
gravel road through the woods, headed to the island point.
Well the run was miserable as usual. It was a hated task, but I persevered and pushed
onward. The irony is that it was not a long run, maybe a mile, or two at most. On return
to the cottage, panting and flopping around on the deck like some fish out of water, I
collapsed in a chair, ready to die, vowing never to succumb to such a dumbass idea
again. I was not even secretly pleased with myself, this was just flat out cruelty to
dominance.
Then it hit me. Suddenly I found myself in nirvana. The pain and gasps were
masked in a euphoria that overwhelmed me. All of a sudden I became giddy, happy and
blissful. Everything was perfect. I had not a care in the world, a world that extended
no farther than the amazing feelings in my body. I could not move and did not want to.
The agonizing pain and gasping for breath I had just felt were gone. Obviously, looking
back now, endorphins had kicked in and I was the happiest, giddiest nincompoop in the
world. It did not last long, perhaps a few minutes, I do not honestly recall, but suddenly,
it was apparent where the slave mind went as they processed and endured pain for me. It
was a startling revelation. Just experiencing the physical rush, even without the
complimentary mental connection of master-slave intimacy was very enlightening.
 It was fun, but once was enough. The thought of running like a madman to get a
junkie rush ended my career into endorphin highs.
Sub-space is the lifestyle specific term, used to describe the physiological
phenomenon that occurs in the body when endorphins are produced. There is a mental
component to sub-space as well and that explanation is coming. We call it sub-space,
but marathon runners call it hitting the wall. Specific terminology aside, endorphins are
a drug, produced in the body, often referred to as the laughing drug, or the body’s
natural narcotic. They produce a natural high not dissimilar to a recreational drug high,
but it is legal… that is until some busybody, do-gooder figures a way to make
happiness a crime.
Endorphins are usually produced when a physical traumatic occurs and the
body experiences an inordinate amount of pain. It needn’t be an injury though, as my
experience imitating Marathon Boy illustrates. Sometimes, it is just heavy exercise that
can trigger the endorphin rush. When it happens, the body goes into action to protect
itself. Recognizing distress, the body acts to offset the pain. Endorphins are part of the
survival instinct. They course through the body to your brain and act there to
compensate for the distress, or trauma it recognizes. Euphoria is created, usually
manifested as giddiness, peaceful feelings, or uncontrollable laughter. You have likely
heard stories of badly injured people laughing hysterically when pain and screaming
might be expected. That is the effect of the endorphins kicking in. Many onlookers
unaware of the endorphin phenomenon are surprised.
In short, endorphins are natural, good and very cool. But enough medical babble.
How does all this affect a master and his slave?
Well armed with all your new medical knowledge, now dispense with it, or add to it,
depending on your point of view, because sub-space can be more than just endorphins.
It was Saturday evening and Wayne was teaching again, this time over the dinner
table. Sylvia, Juliana and a single slave in the group Elizabeth, had prepared and served
a flawless dinner to Wayne, Michael and me. With coffees and liqueurs served, talk
swung to S&M and the using of slaves. Being new, I was still learning the physical
S&M skills and the effect pain could have on a slave’s mind. Bereft of experience, the
discussion that followed was an eye-opener, and began a journey into understanding the
depth of intimacy one could achieve through S&M. Infliction of pain moved from the
perception of kinky, twisted, deviant manifestation of some god-complex, or sick
sadistic pathology, into the realm of intimate communication, in terms we both could
understand.
“Sylvia”, Wayne said addressing her, “explain to everyone what sub-space is to you,
please.”
“Yes Master,” she smiled.
 What followed revealed a new world, another side of the pain/pleasure paradox.
“Sub-space is hard to explain and I’ve learned, very personal, but anyway, here’s
my version,” she began. “I learned early on in my time as master’s slave that I could fly
for him. It isn’t always from physical pain, but I’ll come to that.”
“For me, there seems to be three levels, or kinds of sub-space. They aren’t the same,
and the depth that I sink into them each time, is often different. Of course, master is a
magician at different ways of getting me there, so that helps.”
“Enough gratuitous pandering, pet, they want to know what it is, not that you are an
easy tramp to get there”, mocked Wayne sternly.
The laughter had her blushing.
“The thing with sub-space, for me anyway, is it always involves an intense
connection with Master. Even when I have dropped, when being used by others, it is
always because of that connection with Master, that he wants it from me, making it
easier. I’ve seen others drop with just play, but that has never worked for me. I don’t
love pain enough to enjoy it by itself, I suppose. It’s the combination of knowing I am
submitting, pleasing and obeying, along with the pain that sends me over the edge and
into sub-space. When I am there, I am master’s slave, intensely connected and joined
with him in some way, almost like we are sharing it together. That’s the word I am
searching for, ‘connected’. The pain becomes abstract. It’s just there, it drops me, but
isn’t my focus. I get dopey. I can’t verbalize anything. I’m spacey, but a silent spacey.
I suppose that is the endorphins. For sure my body becomes useless. It’s part of me, but
more like a host for Master and I. Life seems to come from Master’s voice when I drop
from pain. It’s like my body becomes our home. At least that’s the way I feel.”
She paused and there were thoughtful faces watching the girl think.
“Well, that’s the main sub-space I guess. I probably described it badly, but it’s hard
to describe. Maybe that helps a little.”
I sat enraptured with her. She was introducing a part of the slave psyche I had
no comprehension of, and hearing her was a narcotic.
“Goodgirl,” Wayne said. “You said there were three types of sub-space for you,
explain the second please.”
“Yes Master.” She sipped her wine and began again.
Wayne was a wise teacher. Who better to hear from about this intensely
slave phenomenon, than a slave?
“There is another type of sub-space Master takes me to, that hasn’t anything to do
with pain, and I don’t know if it has anything to do with endorphins either. But, it’s real
and very powerful too. Sometimes, just the mood, or ambiance, or a trigger can send me
 diving into space. The symptoms are the same, euphoria, loss of control of my body, a
spiritual connection with Master and an overpowering identification with my
submission. I can actually feel myself a slave, as I float. Sometimes I think it is some
sort of aura he has. It just overpowers me. It might be a simple command, or a word, or
a smell that does it. I remember one-time, he was going to use me in front of some
people. He needed to get ready before starting. He just turned to me and pulled my
hair, whispering, “Let yourself go, don’t move, eyes down, I’m going to use you”, and
whoosh, I was gone. It was like some massive power had overtaken me, that it was a
force of nature, undeniable, and I was insignificant in the face of such power. I was
floating almost immediately, while still sitting on the stool. His hair pull and words had
triggered me into sub-space and an intense connection with my slavery.”
There was not a sound around the table. Everyone was listening intently.
Revisiting that dinner in the process of writing this book, I recalled a very similar
incident that occurred years later with my slave. Triggers are big and on this day, I had
brought her to my workshop, where I often built kinky things. The workshop was warm
and private. She was stripped bare and put on a stool to just sit and be there, while I
worked. Almost instantly, she was floating in happy-happy land. It surprised me
no end, and I got little done seeing her eyes glaze, swaying back and forth and gone.
Talking later, she shyly admitted the combination of being naked in that extraordinary
place, and the smell of sawdust triggered her drop. Whenever she smelled sawdust she
identified it with knowing something was being built for use on her and bam, she was
gone. Slavegirls! God bless their souls!
“Goodgirl, and the third type of sub-space please pet,” Wayne spoke and she carried
on again. This time blushing before she started.
“Well, the other kind of drop I experience is when Master is brutally hard on me. It
sure involves pain, so I guess endorphins are at work again, but it’s very different than
the other sub-spaces. Maybe it isn’t even sub-space, I don’t know. When Master uses
me really hard, intensely, sadistically, I go to a different place altogether. I love it, but
in a different way. It hurts, a lot, there is no denying that and I don’t like that part. It’s
not fun pain like a regular scene might be. Yet as I said, its special, I like it on the
whole, though it scares me when he tells me he is going there. I feel that connection like
the other sub-spaces, but it’s more like an out of body experience, almost like I’m sitting
beside us watching. I can feel the pain more, it’s harsher, but it’s endurable, because
it’s my duty to endure for Master. The other thing that is really different is it is not
sexual in the slightest, yet when it’s over, the need to cum is almost insane in me. Master
could never deny me an orgasm then, or I might rip his eyes out. I can’t help it and
what’s really scary, is it is the most overpowering, all-consuming, body wrenching
orgasm every time. It’s uncontrollable, the need to cum, right then, right there. But
there can be just one. It’s all I can take. I don’t want more, can’t take more. It doesn’t
take much, he just has to touch me and that’s it, I’m flying into an orgasm that actually
 hurts. And then I collapse, I’m done, I pass out for the night.”
Not a sound went around the table for a moment when she ended. The reverie was
suddenly broken as only youthful enthusiasm could do.
“Holy shit! I need a slave!” I babbled out, and the room broke into laughter.
It was years later when I finally understood the third type of sub-space Sylvia so
passionately described that night. It was a slave’s reaction to a Me scene.
So now, with a better understanding of sub-space, learning the needed skills to
induce these reactions is important. Sub-space does not just happen. You make it
happen and it is fun. You want her going there. Proficiency in the use of
S&M equipment is a good start and mandatory for most masters. There is
no replacement for good skills. It does not take much talent to become pretty good with
most of equipment commonly used for impact play, and it can be done relatively
quickly. It is just takes some rudimentary instruction and then practice. Lots of practice,
though in fairness, anyone with a modicum of eye hand co-ordination, can master most
of the skills in short order. With few exceptions, they are not terribly difficult.
Do not be intimidated by the skills you see in others, and do not let some of these
fancy-flogger-boys, who fling leather around like it is some kung fu art form, get you
down. There is showmanship in many public scenes, but rarely does that contribute
much to dropping a slave in and of itself. After all, think about it - she rarely sees it
anyway, being either blindfolded, or having her eyes clamped shut.
There are many types of impact devices and it is not the purpose here to provide a
dissertation on each. Floggers, paddles, canes, oh and don’t forget the palm of your hand
(no master is ever without his toys when he remembers that staple of tortuous love), do
not take long to learn, and you do not need an advance degree in dynamic ballistics to
figure them out. Using a whip; be it a singletail, signal whip, bullwhip, or dressage
whip, takes more skill and practice than other things, but you have many other options
that are learned more quickly. Pick a few you like and get acquainted with them. Then
use them while understanding the holy trinity of impact play, Rhythm, Intensity and
Timing.
One of the easiest and most effective ways to drop a slave is encompassed in that
trilogy. In its simplest form, when I want to drop a slave, I do not get cute. Combined
with other factors, I simply bore myself to death. By using rhythm, intensity and timing,
I can drop her down, faster than a hooker kneels before a septuagenarian with a gold
card.
Develop repetitive, melodic strokes, up and down her body, in simple patterns, then
slowly focus in on her ass. Vary the intensity of strokes in sets of ten, or whatever turns
your crank.0 Give her lighter strokes at times, giving her a chance to process the
pain and breathe between nasty sets. You will learn the patterns that work as you
 progress and learn to read her signs.
Know though that she will not always process pain immediately on impact.
Sometimes there is a delay. This can be particularly true of thin diameter canes, where
the phenomenon of cane lag can occur in many slaves. So give her a chance to absorb
what you are doing. There is no rush, but then, too slow does not work either. A few
thousand well-timed, well-placed smacks can usually send her to loopy land. Read her,
see what works.
There are other methods of dropping a slave beside impact play. That is why reading
her is important, and why exploring different styles of using her is important too. One of
the fastest drops I have ever been involved with was a cutting scene with my own slave.
She trusts, she believes, and when the scalpel came out, she was gone the minute she
heard the first growl and a fist in her hair. A whipping was planned. To focus her, bring
her into the here and now and prepare her mind for the intense pain to come, a scalpel
was brought out to warm her up, but she reacted instantly, her eyes glazing over on
seeing it. She dropped so fast, so deep, starting a whipping was unnecessary, she was
already flying. Initials carved into her back, blood dripping from the cuts, the taste of it
from my finger, and she was deep in happy-happy land. Anything more was redundant.
The scene lasted twenty minutes, a quickie by most standards, yet the aftercare,
recovery, and coming back took hours. The letters carved into her back provided a
reminder of who she was, for many months more.
Exploring and discovering a slave’s triggers, is another effective technique to drop
her. Triggers can be almost anything, and sometimes are strangely offbeat. Discovering
that sawdust turned my slave’s crank was a surprise, but also made for lots of fun. Now,
do not go imagining her sitting buck-ass naked on a stool, with glazed eyes, in my
workshop, legs spread and tossing sawdust at her trying to discover her wet spot. Do not
even think of going there. I could not possibly be that perverted and she might be
reading and blushing.
So ok, sawdust might be a little offbeat, but triggers can be anything. Leather is
often a trigger for many slaves and some drop almost instantly. Another trigger is the
simple act of bondage. Finding herself stripped and tied to a chair causes many slaves to
slide down the slippery slope to bliss. Sometimes it is orgasm denial, or modesty
removal, sensory deprivation, or even being caged. There are as many triggers as there
are slaves.
Find those triggers in her, but understand too, triggers take time. Slaves rarely drop
instantly. It is a process. Let her triggers do their insidious work over time. Flashing
leather under her nose and expecting her to fly is not likely to happen on day one.
Letting her absorb that smell over ten or fifteen minutes each time you use her is far
more likely to develop into a trigger. So while she may have triggers, you can create
them too.
 Another important element to achieving sub-space is the ambiance and atmosphere
of the scene. One that relaxes and calms when you want her dropped is ideal. It is
infinitely more difficult for slaves to fly, when there is something on her mind. If the
kids are apt to interrupt, or she has job concerns, those kinds of issues disrupt her ability
to focus and drop. A blindfold helps to minimize those issues.
Understand too, an important element for creating sub-space is to understand, when
there, she is defenseless. There are no barriers protecting her, and thus her trust in you
must be complete to break through her walls and create this for her. If things in your
relationship are shaky, or if you have not embraced the tenets of mastery to create
unconditional surrender and trust, then it is more difficult for you to take her down.
Tangentially, as the relationship ages and grows, it becomes easier to get her there. That
is common sense. At first, you are learning each other so do not expect miracles the first
few times out. Dropping your slave is intensely intimate, and that takes time.
Words are another factor that affects her ability to drop. If you are giggling at her,
asking questions, having a conversation with her, or checking every other minute how
she feels, you are not likely to be sending her anywhere except to a state of aggravation.
You are a master, not a talk show host, so know when to shut up. Keep the natter to a
minimum and make it serve a purpose. Develop words designed to shut outside forces
from her world. You are her world at that moment, so small terms like Focus girl,
Breathe girl, and Come with me girl, are usually very effective. Talk to her, but in a way
that relaxes and frees her mind. Word your communication in a way that does not
require her to think, or to verbally respond. Just let her absorb.
Another very effective dropping technique is using what is affectionately known as
the “mind fuck”. There is nothing more fun than messing with a slave’s head. Knife
play and fire play, are two techniques that can really mess with some slave’s minds. A
knifepoint on her nipples, the razor edge against her neck, threatening words, and a tone
of voice, and she can fly. When she drops keep her there. Press the knife between her
legs, poke the tip against her clit and slowly work it inside. She will be so far gone she
will never know the cold steel curled up beside her g-spot is your car key.
You will know when she has dropped, or is on her way there, by learning to read
her. Be cognizant of the signs. Shallow breathing, rhythmic breathing, closed, or glazed
eyes, wobbling head, shaky legs, and her hands squeezing and relaxing on a spreader
bar, are all tell tale signs.
With an understanding of sub-space now, use it as another tool in your arsenal of
mastery. A slave need not go there every time, to enjoy the scene you are doing. It is
certainly a tool to use and a place to enjoy, but do not add unnecessary pressure by
imposing unattainable expectations. As skilled as you are, or for any master, there are
times she will not drop. Do not sweat it. Other factors than your motivation and skill
come into whether she goes or not, some being external conditions, other times her state
of mind. If she is cold, or it is noisy, or there are distractions around her, she might not
drop. If she is having trouble focusing, or physically it is the wrong time of month and
she is self-conscious, or worried about other things in life, all distract and make floating
that time unrealistic. No big deal, it happens, do not fret it, enjoy the experience
anyway; and do not forget to praise her. She is your slave, she is trying hard and that is
all anyone can ask. If sub-space were automatic, everyone would be doing it!
So, you have now dropped her. Fun was it not? Now you need to address the effects
it has on her after she comes back. That is part of your responsibility too, after all, you
did this to her, you are thus responsible for the consequences. Taking her there is one
thing and immensely enjoyable, but there are effects and you created them, so now
master those issues too.

Dom-Space

Before leaving the subject, there is a small issue still needing attention. I have heard
many discussions about if there is such a thing, and if so, what is Dom-space. To
characterize those discussions as semantic chatroom natter would be about right.
Certainly, the identification of sub-drop to include the rush of endorphins, would
logically exclude so called dom-space, as the dominant equivalent of what she is
experiencing. Dominants do not experience endorphins in their using of slaves. When
using her, a dominant cannot lose control of his faculties, his body, or his emotions, all
by-products of the endorphin rush. So a slave better hope her master is not experiencing
what she is, or she is in big trouble. To think dom-space is sub-space only from the top
is nonsense.
As a matter of relevance to the practice of mastery, dom-space is nothing more than
chatroom natter. It does not exist. If what follows, some need to call dom-space, please
feel free, but there is nothing uniquely master-slave about a dominants physical
experience when using a slave. The most consistent element present after using her are
elevated adrenalin levels. Sleeping immediately after a scene is rare for many
dominants. It often takes several hours to unwind. But, that is no different than the
effects after a competitive baseball game for ninety minutes either. Whenever strenuous
exercise is involved, it takes time to relax and come down, not from endorphins, but
from the elevated activity level.
I like sweating when I use a slave. I get a kick from that. I want to feel I have
worked hard on her and mentally challenged myself by focusing intensely. So naturally,
it would have the same effect as any strenuous exercise would have on anyone. But the
effects are certainly not specific to the S&M activity, or the scene, and thus not worth
cataloguing and identifying. I do not lose control. I am working, thinking and very
focused though. The world closes in and excludes all but that little treasure before me.
If some want to call dom-space being diligent, focused and immensely satisfied at the
end, well, ok, go for it. If that flips your tail, by all means, call it what you want, but it
 will not change how I use her.

Aftercare

Incumbent with physically using a slave, particularly when exploring the S&M
spectrum, come the responsibilities of aftercare. As master you are alert and understand,
so have thought about what it is you are doing, and so begin to appreciate the extent of
the emotional and physical storm you have rained down on her. She is sore, exhausted,
and emotionally raw. To understand aftercare, cut away the comforting rhetoric and
accept what has occurred. You have struck her, hit her, some would say, beat her up
during many of the scenes you do. When a person is put through that kind of physical
excess, it will affect their mental state in the subsequent hours, often even days. That it
is consensual is irrelevant, there still is an emotional reaction, albeit different than a New
York street mugging. It is unavoidable, and as master you want to understand and have
the necessary skills to lead when she is there.
You vowed to keep her physically and emotionally safe and you have just finished a
masterful scene. You used her brilliantly and feel great. You demonstrated courage,
took risk, and kept the first half of your promise. Now comes the time to exercise the
second part of your responsibility and ensure she is able to recover from the raw
vulnerabilities you demanded of her. That is called aftercare.
Aftercare is fun and often a very intimate time for you both. Many think the time
right after a scene is in fact, the best part. Your slave is emotionally stripped, utterly
open and vulnerable. Sometimes she is near tears at the sheer intensity of the love she
has for you. How beautiful is that? It is often, when you feel closest to each other.
After all, you had the creativity and energy to put her in that condition, and she trusted
you to do it safely. So now, complete the deal.
Aftercare does not have to be emotional chick-flick time. There are different styles
of aftercare, suited to the infinite personalities and emotional triggers of each slave and
master. But aftercare is essentially about her. For some slaves, it requires TLC,
coddling, cuddling and a heavy dose of affection. That would revolt others, who want to
be under their master’s boot, or caged and left alone to absorb the totality of her
indenture. There are really no wrong approaches. The message is more important than
the medium in this case.
That you care is essentially what aftercare is about, knowing you are there, providing
the structure to feel her submission in whatever style you practice it, and that she is
alright. It is, at least subliminally, about keeping an eye on her. Some slaves will deny it
and not want overt master attention, but she will appreciate if not then, certainly down
the road, that you were there for her health concerns and kept her safe, despite how
rough and coarse a scene may have been. Having said that, it can and should be different
 things at different times. Creativity and purpose are the keys.
A warm blanket and throwing her over your shoulder, carrying her to a couch to be
held and stroked, is certainly one form of aftercare. So is laying her at your feet, pinned
under your boot, knowing her place and not going anywhere. Being locked in a cage
with a chamber pot and plate of fruit, left to her thoughts is aftercare. Stroking her face
and smiling as her eyes open, knowing her voice still does not work, but trying to get her
to recite Shakespeare is almost certain to have her giggling. That too is aftercare. But
one of the most powerful styles is still to just let her lie on the floor, hugging your boots.
They all work, they all have a time and place. Just know that, if it matters to you, if you
do the boot on the neck in public, be prepared for the stern lectures and to be written
about how mean and cold you are. Some people do not get it and need to show their
ignorance.

Bruises on Bruises – Sub-Drop

The difference between a casual top, who plays with bottoms and subbly-ones at
fetish nights in a series of one night stands; and masters, is that tops rarely concerns
himself with the effects his scene had on her, after the event is over. Oh sure, he will
immediately afterwards, but any responsibility he felt at the time is gone the minute the
event ends. For him, it is an isolated event, unconnected to anything beyond the
immediacy of the moment. It starts when she says, do me buster and ends with as little
aftercare as he can safely get away with, while avoiding criticism, and making sure his
ride home has not left without him.
Ok, ok already. I sense a mild uproar generated among readers by such exaggeration
and accept it. That is unfair to many tops, who do understand and care about the effect
S&M has on slaves.
So where does responsibility for a slave end after using her? How long will an
intense scene affect her? These are legitimate questions. The answers lie in your
commitment to responsibility as part of your moral fiber and understanding the physical
and chemical reactions that occurs after heavy use.
“How do you deal with her sub-drop when it hits her on Tuesday, Henry? I realize
you just met her at the event, played and live four hours drive apart. So, how do you
handle the drop?"
The munch had cleared out and the stragglers merged to one table for a discussion
about the weekends play party. The pointed question was asked deliberately. He knew
Henry wouldn’t get it, but there were newcomers at the table, perhaps they would learn.
“Well, I did aftercare at the party,” he responded bullishly. “Its not my problem, I
looked after as best I could. If she has issues later, well she shouldn’t be playing. And
 anyway, you look at this differently than most people. It’s all about sex in reality.”
And never were truer words spoken! For most men, involvement in the
BDSM lifestyle is about sex. It is a dramatic mating dance. They argue it is the same
for most women identifying in the submissive role too, as part of the rationalizing they
do to avoid master responsibilities. At least Henry was honest about what it is to him.
But, therein is the difference between a master and top. Masters must and do
recognize, that the effect they have on a slave, lasts beyond the moment, with after-
effects continuing for as long as three, or four days. They accept responsibility for the
emotional condition of the slave, knowing they caused it. Even when an opportunity to
play with a casual play partner comes up, they often decline, knowing the effect it will
have on her. If they are unable to complete the scene, by being there when sub-drop hits
three days later, they will not do it. Now let us not make him into an altruistic nobleman,
he will use her if he can, but he is cognizant and accepts the scene does not end when she
puts her coat on. Nor does it with the slave he owns.
Understanding sub-drop requires acknowledging a fact first. In almost all slaves,
virtually every time, sub-drop will happen in the ensuing hours or days. Sub-drop is
another lifestyle specific term that manifests itself in various forms, but essentially is a
minor, temporary depression. Symptoms show when she becomes moody, emotionally
needy and clingy. She can be down, depressed, feeling low and lethargic. It is similar to
the symptoms some women exhibit during PMS, when abrupt, confrontational,
argumentative, impatience surfaces. She can also become very sentimental and mushy,
something all men love, right? Do not get upset with her when it happens, you caused it,
you big brute. How long the symptoms last, is virtually directly proportional to how
intense the scene was emotionally, or physically. What your slave needs, is to know you
love her and care. Extend affection and intimacy in whatever form works for you. Let
her talk about the scene if she needs to and she often will. Sometimes it is as simple as
needing reassurance and security to know that she pleased you to the extent demanded.
Sub-drop occurs as soon as several hours after a scene, though that is rare. She is
often still basking in the afterglow at that point. Sometimes, it will be the next day, but
commonly sub-drop hits them smack on the ass, around seventy-two hours after the
scene. Three days clear and you are probably home free.
How do you cure sub-drop beside what is already explained? Well, use her! Bruises
on bruises works for me. String her up and do it again! Life is a vicious circle, ain’t it?

Snapping

It was ok now. They lay in bed quietly, his slave nestled in his arms. Things were
calm and they rested, enjoying being there. But it had not been so tranquil three hours
earlier. The firestorm he endured was violent and completely out of character. She had
snapped, and the magnitude of her emotional rejection of the needs he knew her to have,
and the vitriol that spewed from her mouth, admonishing him as the most evil bastard in
the world, shocked him at first. It wasn’t long realizing though, she had snapped. The
outburst had come out of the blue, a sure sign of a snap. It was time for patience and not
let her attack get under his skin. He was ready for her.
The evening had gone so well. Attending a small fetish gathering, then home early to
explore her body and submission. He had used her with skill and she responded
wonderfully. All in all, it had been a first class evening.
He lay back on the bed and opened his legs. “Come here girl. Your mouth.”
She obeyed without hesitation. Perhaps that is what fooled him. The difficulty she
struggled with was well hidden in her unhesitant obedience. He had no inkling of the
shitstorm awaiting. She swallowed then was pulled into his arms. It was time to sleep
and they snuggled in the warm bed, dreamland but moments away.
It started when she rolled away and curled up. She started to cry and before he
could react she was in hysterics. Then the convulsions started. The girl was in serious
trouble and he had not a clue what happened. He reached out and the violent rejection
and verbal assault had him wide-awake.
“You’re not my master, I don’t want this, can’t do it. Go away. Get away from me,”
she screamed.
And he knew then where she was.
Hours later she could talk. Closing in on her with patience, slowly she responded to
his reassuring caresses and words. He calmed her eventually and she was again in his
arms, snuggled, red eyed but ready to talk.
“Master, I thought I was long over it,” she said, talking softly. “It happened
fourteen years ago. I have never done what you asked of me at the end tonight. Never in
all those years until tonight and I thought I was ok with it. I wanted to. I really wanted
to, to make you happy. I want to be the best lil subbie you’ve ever known,” she went on.
“Something happened, I guess I’m not over it.” She looked up into her master’s eyes
and spoke from her heart. “Master, when I was sixteen, I was orally raped and made to
swallow, by my sister’s boyfriend. I’ve never been able to do it again, until tonight.”
All was going to be ok now. His slave was back and he would get her the help she
needed. He pulled her tight and kissed her.
Completing examination of the issues surrounding use of your slave is a murky little
issue, about a phenomenon that occurs to almost all slaves, at one time, or another. Yet
it lurks in relative anonymity along the BDSM spectrum, a potential time bomb of angst,
 when handled poorly. If you are unaware of it, you are not alone; few have the
knowledge to lead her through it, or even recognize it is happening. The issue is called
snapping. It is what happened to the slave above.
Traditionally, snapping is a physical reaction within a slave, to an emotional trauma,
generally scene induced. Snapping occurs when the master probes a slave’s limit, or
engages in an act, where a wee bombshell awaits him. The bombshell is grounded in a
hidden trauma the slave experienced in her past. She may well endure whatever act you
engage in, but later, usually within an hour, she begins a physical reaction. Convulsing,
uncontrollable sobbing, hysterics and an unwillingness to be touched, or submit and
curling into a fetal position are common manifestations. You should anticipate snapping,
though it is rare, but not uncommon, and know that at some point it will happen.
Understanding it is part of your mastery and the skills you bring to her life. It is your
knowing it will happen and how to deal with it, that separates you from the masses and a
re-affirmation for her, why she submitted to just you.
But, it is important you realize what is happening when she snaps. The slave will
appear to be rejecting you, the lifestyle, and her submissive choices. She may scream at
you to get away from her and appear genuinely vanilla. Do not panic. The cause and
her snap, may well have nothing to do with your relationship.
The cure for snap is patience. It may take hours for her to calm down. At first, it is
best to just be there quietly supportive. You need not talk; she is not listening to you
anyway. Then slowly take her in your arms, gently reassuring her with soft caresses and
words. Lie with her and just hold her. Do not rush anything. Let her convulsions and
sobbing diminish. Be there. Be strong. Whisper how she is special, a treasure, beautiful
and precious. Take your time. There will be time later to find out what caused the snap,
but she needs your strength right now. Show her you are not going anywhere. Smile and
let her understand she has not done anything wrong. She may not know what snapping
is, but you do and need to begin reassuring her she is fine, that you understand.
Eventually you will be able to talk about what happened to her. She will struggle to get
it out, but it will come out. Then you can deal with it.
The key to a snap is for you to recognize it, and then, of critical importance, is to
understand and believe she is not rejecting you. Thirdly, take that intimate moment and
show her how special she is to you, regardless of circumstances. You are dealing with
raw vulnerable emotions. And is not that wonderful and beautiful? Is not that so much of
what we seek out in the master-slave lifestyle? Lastly, let her talk it out and you can deal
with the issue. But do not punish a snap and do not leave her alone.
A snap is an opportunity to show her just how committed you are and are willing to
work through issues she has, even ones brought into the relationship unawares. You are
wise enough to understand what can happen to a slave’s headspace and deal with it
responsibly. Remember, a snap, is a wonderful opportunity to take your intimacy to a
deeper level. Do not try to induce a snap, but take advantage of the opportunity when it
 happens.

Mind Fuck #15 - Sadism – This One’s For Me

“How many times have I used you, pet?”

“Ummmm, gosh Sir, maybe a dozen?”
“Close pet, eleven times. And in each case we’ve grown a little. I’ve learned about
you, taken you on small steps along the happy path and explored your commitment to
slavery. We’ve built intimacy and trust. Do you understand and agree?”
“Oh yes Sir, very much so.”
Their quiet weekend together was culminating on Sunday afternoon. She knelt
gracefully before him in the bedroom, very much feeling the peace and tranquility she
had long sought.
“Are you happy, pet?”
“Very Sir.”
“Have you grown in your understanding of what makes me happy, who I am, and felt
healthy in your submission?”
“I’ve learned a totally different way of looking at this lifestyle. It has been
wonderful.”
“Goodgirl. Today we are going on different path, another one, one that is part of
where we need to go, but different than you’ve experienced so far.
She smiled, her tummy filled with nervous anticipation. Slavery, she was learning
quickly, was very real.
“We’ve talked about the three ways I will use you pet. Do you recall them pet?”
“Yes Sir, for ‘you’, for ‘me’, for ‘us’.”
“Goodgirl and so far they have all been for us and you. That’s the way I wanted it,
to introduce you to the pain/pleasure paradox. They were all designed to grow our
intimacy and trust. You’ve learned to float, to obey without hesitation and come with me
when I want you in that special place. You’ve done very well. I’m delighted with you.
Tonight we are going to change course and take a big step. Tonight’s going to be
different. This is for me. This is where you learn that enduring for me is part of your
needs and slavery. It’s where sadism meets your ass. Do you understand, girl?”
“Yes Sir” was a mere whisper.
 She was nervous. Knowing this step would come did not help her now. The carpet
absorbed her stare. He knew this was a special slave. With undivided attention, it was
time to really mess with her head. It was such fun. He leaned down and growled in her
ear.
“This is where blunt force trauma meets contusion, where the rug burns your face,
where you learn whip wrap doesn’t exist, searching for new targets does and
your cunt can be spanked as hard as your ass, albeit with more splashback.”
Her eyes got very wide and he laughed.
“I’m only half messing with you pet,” he grinned, then went serious.
“But it is time to move you to a “me” use. Understand what is going to happen here
girl. You are not going to float. You are going to a different place for me. It will
transcend the pain, become more an out of body experience. It will be like watching
from afar. It is special pet, something I want and need from you. For me, it is a chance
to express the sadism that I need from time to time. In the future, as you grow the, us
and me scenes will blend together. As you learn to crave harder use, my need for sadism
may be quenched in your ability to fly there. But for now, they are separate. Do you
understand?”
Being brave wasn’t easy and she was beyond nervous. It wasn’t a fear of the pain,
she believed in her master’s compassion. Disappointing him worried her. Could she
take what he wanted? Failure is what she feared. The pain would come and go, but she
desperately wanted to please him.
“I think so Sir.”
“Goodgirl. Now take your clothes off, kneel on the blanket box and lean over the
bed.”
The box had been a perfect addition to his bedroom, bought years before because of
its cushioned seat and low height. At the foot of the bed, it made an ideal, camouflaged,
spanking bench. He had long been rid of beds with footboards.
She knelt in supplication, her pert bottom magnificently round and vulnerable. The
long lines of her back led to well-toned shoulders. Her physical beauty complimented
her mind and very real slave heart so well. She knelt and lay silently waiting. It was
time to act, to show her another side of mastery, slavery and the needs that linked them
so.
He came crashing down on her back, straddling her, crushing her into the bed.
“It’s not about you slavegirl,” he menacingly growled.
“Obey. Endure. Feel who you are. You have no safeword, no one to hear you
scream. You’re mine, my meat, my chattel. I’m going to whip you and mark you,
 exercise sadism like you’ve never known.”
She was panting, her face crushed into the duvet, making breathing hard before she
had even felt the pain. She heard every word and it was searing her soul.
“But, you can be safe. I want you to stay on your knees, taking what I give you until
you can take no more. When you collapse onto the bed, it will be over. I will know it’s
all you can take. Be strong, be brave, endure for me girl. I want this from you.”
She knew of this sadistic streak, a need to inflict pain, not for the pathological thrill
of hurting someone, but to explore her limits, her ability to serve and endure for him. He
recognized this need in her and had the courage to pursue it. The path was risky. Done
poorly, and it could lead to instability and emotional trauma. Done well, it would grow
them together. He wondered if she understood the narrow ledge he stood upon. A slip,
malfeasance of the heart, mental sickness and she would be in trouble. It was for
moments like this, he had studied and learned. She needed him sane, but no more so
than he needed to know his motivations were sound. What was about to rain down on
her back and buttocks was not about adrenalin, endorphins, sadism, or masochism. It
wasn’t a need for thrill seeking, or testosterone, showing off, or entertainment. It
transcended all the things that motivated the casual S&M players lurking in the fetish
clubs. This was about the harmony of a master and slave together, able to find peace
and tranquility, recognizing and meeting each other’s unique needs. The emotion that
would go into this is what the casual players never felt. They missed the best part.
It didn’t take long. There was no ramping, no build up, no words to settle her. The
whip struck suddenly and unmercifully, drawing welts immediately. She gasped and
screamed. The cane drew blood and the rubber truncheon bruised her deeply. Her
body was a bloody pulp when she passed out, collapsing on the bed. He had max’ed out
her pain. She had faced her fears and overcome. My god, how he loved this girl.
It was the end of the weekend, driving home much later that she called. He wanted
her to stay longer, but knew she couldn’t on this occasion. He answered and listened.
“Sir, thank you. I feel so marvelous. I love you Master. I just can’t believe how
tired I feel. I just lay there. You’d think I would be refreshed.
“Who’s calling please?” he said.
He so loved messing with her head.
 Chapter IX - Train Her!
Git Her Done!

"To enjoy a slave, she must be trained. If you cannot call her fully trained at some
point, you are deluding yourself and fucking with her head irresponsibly. Training takes
effort. Enjoying a trained slave is what counts. There are no excuses, get it done.”
That is a controversial statement, almost certain to raise the hackles of some folks
proclaiming a heavy investment in the lifestyle. Many of those people just pay lip
service though, and experienced successful masters are smiling reading it. Good, as it
should be. Wishy-washy unfocused dominance; romantic nonsense, and masters
unskilled, or unwilling to train their slaves, are anathema to the practice of responsible
mastery. To say it again: training your slave is not the focus, enjoying a trained slave
is.
When a relationship exists, where intentions are to live in the master-slave niche, but
the slave is only partially trained, it is because too often a problem exists that the master
is unsure how, or what to train, how quickly to teach, and how hard to push. Aspiring
masters need to understand, training is a means to an end, not the goal itself. Yes, you
read that correctly, training your slave is not the goal, nor purpose of slave ownership. It
is the necessary fun that leads to the peace, tranquility, growth and adventure this
lifestyle offers. Masters saying they constantly train their slaves, in an ongoing journey
forever, are really saying, they have not trained her and are willing to go through life
with an untrained slave. They confuse revamping and amending rules, rituals and
protocols as you age and mature, with the idea training goes on forever. It does not.
Yes, rules do change at times and you train those into her, but at some point she must
know all there is to pleasing you, your structure, and be a fully trained slave, as of that
moment.
Surprised? Digest this section carefully and understand why the statement is both
true and focuses you and your slave’s needs in choosing to explore the master-
slave dynamic.
Training your slave must be done. There is no disputing that. Oh, and did I mention
it is fun? Slave ownership is about enjoying her service in the ways and style you enjoy.
However, she does not automatically know what that is. Surely living with you, she will
pick things up, but you are responsible to teach her. You must be proactive in her
training. Typically, lazy masters practice passive training, and that is often symptomatic
of a selfish approach leading to inconsistency in the enforcement of structure. Passive
training wrongly places the responsibility with her to learn, rather than you to teach. A
passive training style, should be a red flag for most slaves, a sign the dominant is unsure,
 disorganized, or quite probably lazy. Did I mention mastery is not for the lazy or
unintelligent?
But, since no slave comes to her master trained (though some think they are and
some masters wish they were), it behooves every master to get her trained quickly. Train
in a healthy and enjoyable manner and in a way that notwithstanding growth in the
future, at some point in time, you can bite her nose, smile and acknowledge that she is
now your fully trained slave. Slaves with the core personality needs represented in the
SODS Principle, will smile back from their soul. It is critically important to the
credibility of your mastery to acknowledge that she is now fully trained. Again, do not
confuse that in the future rules will change and perhaps new skilled taught. But at that
moment, she is trained. If you want to teach her ponygirl disciplines later, because you
now have an interest in that, fine, do it. Add it on and get it done.
As master, you accept responsibility for her training and have both a plan and a
timeline to accomplish it all. Yet, how many masters do that? Your
consistent thoughtful training regimen will distinguish your mastery and yet again mark
you as an outstanding master. The goal is to own a fully trained slave and then enjoy
her. Some relationships fail even when training is complete, but the master-
slave dynamic most surely will collapse, if she has not been trained to your satisfaction.
When you think about it and begin to meet others involved in the master-slave lifestyle,
you will find how rare full training of the slave really is. Few masters can honestly state
their slave is ever fully trained. Why this is mystifies me, knowing it is so important for
her to serve as you want and she needs. When it happens, it is almost always because
the master-slave dynamic is failing, or the couple is only casually involved in the
lifestyle, more for kinky pleasure, than as a way of life. When training is incomplete,
anguish and angst exist. Failure to train is often, not because of a lack of effort or will,
but from the sheer enormity of the task, or simply not knowing how. Some masters do
not have the tools, or organizational discipline to do it properly and completely. They do
not realize the importance of full training. In fairness to these masters, there is a dearth
of educational information available to develop comprehensive training plans, so many
wing it, hoping for the best. Volume III addresses these issues in detail.

The One Year Discipline

But, there is an effective tool for aspiring masters to use. The One-Year-Training-
Discipline is proven effective and simple to use. While it may not be for everyone, it
works often enough to be a valid tool for most any master. It is a training discipline that
organizes training, with goals and timelines. It is very efficient. It takes some time to
set up, but can largely be done before you even meet her, then tailored to her particular
circumstances once identified. Just know that it works.
No two slaves are ever, nor ever should be trained identically. Each is unique, with
 different needs and idiosyncrasies and is not that wonderful. Like no two slaves are
identical, there is no universal blueprint for training a slave, transferable from master to
master, or even slave to slave with the same master. The One-Year-Training-Discipline
is a guideline to organize a personalized training program meeting your particular
structure and the slave’s individual needs. It also provides the discipline for a master to
be consistent, thorough, and move forward with his vision, thus growing the master-
slave dynamics into habits for everyone.
Now, some slaves will argue and disagree with the whole notion that she is not
constantly trained through life. She disagrees, because she wants that, needs it, and
demands it. Of course she does, because almost certainly, she is a center-of-attention
slave. A Me-Me-Me slave, mounted firmly on her pedestal waving her Submission is a
Gift placard for all to see. She wants the attention training brings. She knows training is
her time in the spotlight. Attention is focused directly on her. With all that attention and
energy directed her way, it is a giant ego stroke. She loves it, who would not? Everyone
likes to be noticed, appreciated, focused on, and to a large degree that happens when a
slave is being trained. For the master though, this is a potential problem. While
recognizing relationships are all about mutual need fulfillment, a slave’s needs and focus
must be on service and obedience. That is what a slave does. Yes, she contributes
enormously, is appreciated and has great value. But stripping her slavery down to the
bare essence, service and obedience are her bedrock and those are not traits usually
associated with the Me-Me-Me slave, except in passing them by as fast as possible. As a
dear slave friend loves to remind me, It is all about her. But she has the good sense to
bend over, knowing her impertinent teasing earned a good swat.
TPE masters, nor slaves, want the spotlight on the slave. She is there to serve,
please, obey, contribute, be useful, work, and make her the master’s life better and more
comfortable. Given that opportunity, along with the skills and training to accomplish
those goals, then she is motivated and happy. It has nothing to do with being the focus of
attention. You are the focus. If you do not think so, re-read the SODS Principle and
then get out and meet some real life, dedicated slaves. Talk to them until you believe in
that Principle.
Here is a truism of this lifestyle niche.
"The purpose of owning a slave is to spend a lifetime enjoying her, guiding,
exploring and nurturing her to be sure, but enjoying and using her service. It is not to
spend a lifetime training her."
Service, obedience, and the training that enables, is your goal, and if it is not for the
slave, then she has her focus, understandings and reasons for being a slave completely
askew. It is often said the lifestyle is a long journey of little steps and that is a wonderful
truism giving context and meaning to the master and slave. But it does not apply to her
training. If you spend a lifetime training her, then you will go through a lifetime with an
untrained slave. Is that what you want? The little steps refers to the exploration of
aspirations, goals, capacities and adventure with her. It refers to exploring her service,
obedience, limits, spiritualism and emotional growth, as a trained slave. It is not a time
frame for training.
It can be observed over years that master’s not using the One-Year-Training timeline,
(or variation of it), generally lack a vision, plan, develop only vague, incomplete
structure and are doomed to inconsistency. If that were not true, then what is holding
them back? Why are they not training her fully? Why is it taking so long? Is training a
slave the only motivation, enjoyment and dimension to master-slave, thus must be spread
over a lifetime?
All that said, training is on-going. It is not static, nor a one shot wonder. It does not
end after a year. That is not the message. Things change, you grow, circumstances
fluctuate, life is not static. So you will change, adapt and alter your rules, rituals, and
protocols as the years go by. And that is as it should be. Simply keep her up to date.
The One-Year-Training-Discipline is designed to get your structure into her hands, in its
current form. It is something she is anxious to do. She wants your training, but only to
please you. It allows her to serve, enabling her to fulfill that core need within. That will
sustain her happiness and make you a consistent master.
You have fifty-two weeks. Develop a schedule and training regimen, a curriculum
and teach it. And what a year to enjoy! It will be a blast, fun, lusty, erotic, intense, full
of smiles and new skills. There will be order and discipline, structure and tranquility.
Savor and enjoy it. She will love knowing what pleases then doing it. Even punishment
when necessary, promotes smiles and tranquility. She wants your training. Give it to
her!
The specific training regimen you plan then execute is yours to decide, of course. A
specific training model is presented for you to consider in Volume III. Pick what you
like and leave the rest, but the model works.

Training Issues

There are issues surrounding slave training and slaves in general, that serious
intentioned new masters must be aware of, to avoid falling into existing traps and
pitfalls. As a master, you need to learn as much as possible of the BDSM spectrum,
regardless of your niche, that both enable you to make your decisions, and to avoid
existing inconsistencies. Set your goals high and aspire to the level of expert, knowing
that knowledge and expertise will enable your slave to serve you in the best possible
way.
"To be the best, you must beat the best!"
Perhaps the author of that phrase did not have BDSM in mind when he created the
 phrase. But if the shoe fits!
Many masters today, are learning about the lifestyle from the internet, where
information is scattered, disjointed and often is nothing more than masked topping from
the bottom and bottoming from the top. They learn about it alone then, take what limited
knowledge they have, declare themselves an expert, and fling it at the first newcomer
slave they can find, who also got her information from the same suspect Internet
sources. The results are dominants learning by slapping leather around some naïve
slave’s neck, throwing some half-assed fantastic training at her, screwing up, dumping
her, reading another web page, moving onto the next victim. They fix the previous
problem, slap more leather on, try a revised training program, screw up again, dump her,
read another web page, and so on and so forth, ad nauseum. Eventually, they call
themselves experienced slave trainers, which is true. They are experienced in mistakes,
heartbroken slaves and selfishness. They are not masters, far from it.
The result has been an outcry for the training of dominants, which is reactionary
nonsense and the wrong path. You do not train dominants. You mentor aspiring
masters. Perhaps that is semantic argument, but aspiring masters must come to this with
passion and a hunger for knowledge. There exists an open minded willingness for
education, and they are willing to ask questions, observe, absorb explanations, and
slowly then develop their style. They acquire knowledge without inflicting harm on
slaves, and realize an appreciation of their responsibilities, the slave mind set and the
very acute powers in play when dabbling in the master-slave niche. Then they can feel
confident in developing a slave relationship and pursue a responsible training path.
Addressed earlier, but worth touching on again, is the oft-asked question of the
difference between teaching and training your slave. It too, is a semantics question. Call
it whatever you want, it is not going to change how you approach and train her.
Technically teaching is imparting knowledge without consequence to the teacher, and
training has a potential consequence. Since your slave’s behavior will reflect on you,
which is a consequence, then we train rather than teach our slaves. But it is not an
important word distinction in reality.
A friend of mine is a very mature and thoughtful slave. She personifies the slave
mindset and has loyally served her master for over two decades. You could not ask for a
better-trained and useful slave. Yet her hot button is the word train. It squicks her. She
has never been able to overcome the image that training, is akin to making her into a
trained circus bear. Wisely, her master does not sweat the small stuff, the word being
unimportant to him, so he teaches her. But he gets his revenge.
“Indeed, I do teach her. She doesn’t want to be a circus bear, so I just switch her to
performing bare.”
He cackles every time he tells the story.
How to train your slave is expanded on at length in Volume III, but there are training
 issues aspiring masters must address to responsibly lead.
Many in the community claim to be slave trainers. With varying degrees of panache,
they preach wonderful and wooly orations of how good they are, and how many slaves
they successfully trained. Their claims of compassionate but strict, and you will be
punished every day, and countless other clichés and slogans of nonsensical dogma, are
worthy of a SNL parody. That they may have indeed tried to train one or two, or even
many, only begs for an explanation of context. Very often, slave trainers, engaging with
slaves they do not own, are often really fulfilling some girls fantasy for a weekend or
two. Often they have deceived the naïve into thinking she needs training, or perhaps she
wants to bottom for a while to get a feel for the lifestyle. That is not slave training,
though can be an amusing game of role-playing at best, a tragedy waiting to happen, at
worse.
She needs training of course, but then must serve, or the training is moot. If she has
no one to serve at the end, no opportunity to serve, no one to appreciate, or even
recognize her service, then what purpose did the training serve? Some will say, that she
now knows how when the opportunity comes, but does she? Each master is different,
with different needs and the wise ones start by telling their slave to forget everything she
has learned to date.
What an un-owned slave needs, if it is more than a good whipping to appease her
masochistic needs, is to be taught the theory and philosophy of the various niches of the
BDSM, master-slave spectrum. That includes the emotional, mental and physical
aspects of the whole sub-culture. She can use a mentor to help her understand the
characteristics of the slave mind, and explore if she identifies with those needs. She can
be taught how that is translated, interpreted, and practiced by various styles of
domination. A master doing that is providing a beneficial service to her, and responsibly
leading in this lifestyle. The slave begins an understanding of what motivates her and
closes in on the niche she finds most comfortable. None of that requires a trainer, or
even physical intimacy. Too often, dominants use the disguise of trainer as a tool to get
laid and stroke their ego. That is not what training a slave is about, nor mastery. If
getting into her pants is your real agenda, try a more honest approach.
“If you don’t always sleep on your tummy, do you mind if I do?”
At least she will appreciate your honesty and humor.
If you want some kinky fun for a weekend and role-play at training, hey, go for it, it
is fun. But any serious training beyond that, if you have no real intent to own her, is
likely dishonest rationalization for your selfish behavior. Some will disagree seeing no
harm in the game. However, too often these trainers conveniently ignore a reality, one
particularly common if she has a slave heart and one, if he has the experience he claims,
would know.
Experienced masters understanding the slave mind, (notwithstanding contractual
service slaves), knows that often when training a slave, she develops a growing love for
her trainer. Granted, in the newness and addictive romance of mastery, structure, rules
and the alpha male, she often confuses feelings of love for her trainer, with the love of
his structure.
Transference occurs because she is unaware of the phenomenon and because of her
inexperience and newness, but the trainer should know better. How many dominants can
even recognize the difference? How many even care? If he is even halfway good at
training, these feelings are almost inevitable. Yet, he has made no lasting commitment
to her. He provides no opportunity for her to use the training, something she desperately
wants to do. He works with her in the guise of training and knowingly creates this love
and emotional vulnerability that inevitably leads to hurt and pain, once training is over.
Slave trainers creating that situation are not engaged in acts of responsible mastery. The
practice is abuse. Advocating a hands off approach for mentoring slaves and leave
training to those wanting and willing to make a commitment to her, is not a popular
position to advocate, and ruins it for all the self-professed slave trainers out there. If you
have no intention to own her, try hands-off mentoring if you really have the slaves best
interests at heart. It is what masters do. Ask yourself what your real agenda is, then rise
to the occasion.

So now, how do you train your slave? Well, details are coming, but training is
progressive, so order must be applied to the chaos and volume of work. In teaching
athletic skills to high performance athletes, their ultimate success and subsequent
championships come from the minute details that refine the talent and training each
athlete undertakes. The same applies if you want a champion slave, and who does not?
Her success is not measured in gold medals, but rather in happiness, peace, tranquility
and of course, bruised bums.
There is an athletic coaching principle that states, in order for an athlete to acquire
new skills, you teach large body joint movements first, then progress through descending
sized joints to the smallest, refining the skill as you go. The refinement and finesse from
the small joints is what makes a champion. If you are teaching a baseball player to hit a
baseball, you start with his hip movement into the ball and progress through the body
joint movement, ending with him feeling the bat as an extension of his fingers. He feels,
thus making hitting easier.
That principle, from large to small, from simple to finesse, is the training principle
for slaves too. Before getting to details of a training regimen, pause and consider your
structure, what is fundamental, what is fine detail, then prioritize the progression from
basics to finesse.
“A great master makes a great slave.”
Your training enables her to be all that you need, and who she is.
 Chapter X - Master & Slave Contract
When the validity and use of a Master-Slave Contract in power relationships comes
up, many folks in the lifestyle get their knickers in a knot. Understanding why is
difficult. An Master-Slave Contract is merely another device to provide structure,
something assumedly, the master and slave wants. There is nothing to fear in executing
a contract. By definition, it is merely an agreement made between two people. Yet, a
contract stirs a variety of emotions among lifestyle folk and not all of it is positive. Why
is that?
Perhaps for some it is the stark reality of seeing commitments on paper. It makes it
kind of real, does it not? There in black and white are the master and slave
responsibilities. That terrifies some while energizing others. Maybe the legal un-
enforceability makes it unreal and too fantastic for the naysayers. Certainly such a
contract is not what we perceive as typical in Western culture. A Master-Slave Contract
is not a binding agreement in any legal sense, whether consensual or not. Yet to many it
represents a pillar of peace of mind and security.
Two people cannot enter into an agreement to break the law, either verbally or in
writing. Such a contract has no standing in a court of law. That is a certainty in the
United States and Canada.
So why have one?
The fact is a Master-Slave Contract is only enforceable and binding by the integrity
and willingness of both parties to abide by its terms. There is no adjudication option
available if one party opts out. But legality notwithstanding, it serves many positive
purposes in master-slave relationships. However, if you so not want one, then do not use
one. No biggie. But it behooves any master to understand the issue.
Contracts are represented by various names. The Master-Slave Oaths; Master-
Slave Vision; Master’s Rules; Master-Slave Understandings; Master-Slave Agreements
are but a few. The label though, is moot. Call it what you will. The reason for such a
document is the important concept to consider.
Another hesitancy people have about Contracts, is feeling no need to formalize their
relationship in writing. Fair enough. The fact is though, many relationships are
formalized in writing. They are called Marriage Licenses, so we are used to the
concept. A Master-Slave Contract is not a lot different, except perhaps to the extent
undertakings are itemized. It is a valuable tool for couples in the all-inclusive Three
Power niche. Clarity of purpose never hurt anyone, and transparency of motivations is
always good.
 Why Have A Contract

The KISS principle is a good enough reason to have a contract. Simplicity and
straightforward clarity of purpose works every time and a contract serves that end.
Laying out expectations, obligations and responsibilities in a clear understandable
format, is both poignant and important. The Master-Slave Contract outlines clearly for
the slave, exactly the core values the master lives by, and the permanent body,
behavior and attitude expectations he has. The Contract, while not spelling out all
expectations and rules, does so establish the footings and foundation of the relationship.
It spells out the Agreements made between the couple, reflecting the duality of the
relationship. A Contract is not a bully document imposing his will on her. It is an
agreement between two loving people. It explains her responsibilities, but as
importantly, the master’s too. That alone is a good enough, if not an outstanding reason,
to have a Master-Slave Contract.

The Making of a Contract

“Give it some thought, my boy, you’ll never write a more important document.”
Wayne Innes, circa 1980
In structuring a Master-Slave Contract, appreciation of a number of factors are
important. None is more so, than appreciating the aging factor we all go through.
Like the brilliance of the U.S. Constitution, a static document written dynamically,
the Master-Slave Contract lives and breathes, maintains relevancy, while
accommodating ever-changing conditions. It can do so because it reflects the
master’s core value absolutes without binding itself with the irrelevancy of fashion.
It is inconsistent to preach peace, tranquility and security as a platform for
healthy submission when the values embodied in your Contract are subject to
whimsical re-negotiation. A poorly written Contract will result in just that. Omit
minor and fashionable rules, those likely to change in the future and avoid re-
writing your Contract. The Contract can only represent Core Value Expectations.
Making your Contract relevant and purposeful, and to achieve the faithful
loyalty of your slave, make a list of all your rules, rituals, protocols and
expectations and then prioritize them. Divide them into two groups. They
represent your Core Value Expectations and House Rules. Include only the Core
Value Expectations in your Contract and execute it but once. Everything else
becomes House Rules. There is more on prioritizing these values in Volume III.
A masters dynamic rules, identified as those likely to change over time, and not
part of his ethical and moral standard, need separation and set aside from the
Contract. Create a document called House Rules, and list them there. Those
 change at your leisure and threaten nothing except imposing fun for you and your
slave.
Illustrating the difference between Core Value Expectations and House Rules is
simple.
Contract Rule
“WE agree honesty is paramount in our relationship and we are always fully
open and honest in all respects including feelings, thoughts and actions."
House Rule
“THE slave will Neatsfoot oil all master’s leather restraints once a year or as
needed, keeping them supple and in good repair."
The Contract rule obviously represents a core value the master lives by and the
behavior he expects from his slave. It is not negotiable and will not change. It is
not a rule subject to the whims of fashion. A slave breaching this rule is in a serious
mess of trouble with her master. She can expect punishment commensurate with
the seriousness of the disobedience. Even release from service is not outside the
realm of possibility for serious and particularly ongoing breaches of this faith in
her.
The second rule is specific, yet dynamic, because it could, and probably will
change in time. It specifies a brand of oil with which she treats his leathers. While
it is an excellent leather conditioner, it could well be obsolete in the future as new
products develop, whereupon the rule would change. Now, what master in his right
mind wants to tear up his Contract and go to the trouble of drawing up another for
this type of rule change? Bear in mind the importance and significance of the
Contract for you both, but in particular the security it represents for the slave. It is
a permanent symbol of the commitment between you. Terminating a Contract,
even if just to execute another, is akin to release for the slave and implies, even if
just subliminally, that your commitment may be insincere. The generated feelings
of insecurity are not conducive to healthy growth. You need to think through your
Contract. It is critically important.
Entering into a Contract is also very romantic and an intimate moment between
the master and slave. Do so seriously, solemnly, with great reverence. There are
some serious responsibilities undertaken. It takes courage to accept responsibility
for a slave, but no more so than for her choosing to submit. It is also emotionally
difficult to sign her name to a piece of paper committing to a life and relationship of
service and obedience. Remember too, she is overcoming a lifetime of cultural
conditioning to make this decision. While you both believe it is healthy, general
society does not, making it even more difficult.
 Have fun with the Contract and be creative. Execute the signatures in each
other’s blood. Blood dripped together and signed with a quill is a highly charged
beautiful symbol of the commitments exchanged.
There are many versions and examples of Master-Slave Contracts in print and
on the internet. All have interesting aspects to them and props to those having
thoughtfully assembled them. Further on in Volume III, is a detailed analysis of a
Master-Slave Contract. It is a no nonsense document developed and refined with
the luxury of time and experience. It represents responsible, healthy, consistent and
most importantly, a realistic, livable agreement between two loving people involved
in the all-inclusive Three Power (TPE) niche. The Contract is composed of eleven
sections. It is not overly long, is certainly not a flowery oration of romantic fantasy,
but is carefully worded to represent a vision consistent with the values expostulated
in this book. As with everything here though, take what you like and leave the rest.
The Contract works, but may not be for everyone. The sections are,
Preamble – Parties - Master’s Responsibilities - Slave’s Responsibilities -
Alterations to the Contract - Termination of the Contract - Master & Slave
Agreements – Rules – Boundaries - Slave’s Signature - Master’s Signature
Volume III analyses in detail, a real life Contract, and Appendix A therein,
replicates the complete Contract document.

Mind Fuck #16 – “The Great Canadian Slave Hunt”

There were twelve couples in all. Great friends all sharing their own niche of
the master-slave dynamic. They had known each other for years, shared
experiences and camaraderie and most of all friendship. The kind of friendship
bonded by their unusual values and virtues of difference. This weekend would add
to those experiences. Masters and slaves together joined in the excitement of the
weekend plans. Saturday would be the first Great Canadian Slave Hunt.
The wooded farm was not far from the city. Over eighty acres of rolling terrain,
bisected by a creek, with pasture and woods, some of it heavy with under growth.
The farmhouse was quieted away from the passing road, hidden behind a stand of
mature cedars. Privacy was complete. There would be no prying eyes this warm
summer weekend.
It started back in the cold winter over dinner with friends. Perhaps accounting
for too much wine, or after dinner liqueurs, it mattered not, the idea germinated.
“You know LT, come summer we ought to strip these wenches naked and chase
them through the woods like debauched madmen. Make them flee for their very
lives.”
 “Now there is a great idea. And when we catch them stake them spread-eagled
to the ground, prisoners to the boiling sun. Let them bake and then we’ll have our
way with them.”
“Oh yeah, and torture them unmercifully. They can beg for their lives!”
We were seriously laughing now.
Back and forth we went, growing the whim, with stern looks at the amused
slaves who giggled nervously, hoping it was just silly conversation and boys being
boys.
“Captives, made slaves of the island, our sex toys. Kept naked, filthy and
utterly without hope for escape and freedom.”
“Now we’re talking, slave meat glazed with honey, the ants and bugs will have
a field day.”
That’s when the slaves stopped laughing and fled to the kitchen for more
coffee. We continued, on a roll, conjuring, fantasizing and deliberately stuffing our
slave’s minds with evil.
Well from a diabolical dinner conversation hatched an idea and the idea stuck.
Through the winter, we talked and by spring a plan was ready. Twelve couples in
all, invited and ready to go. The debauchery was set.
It was noon and the sun blazed in the warm summer sky. Twelve fully clad
slaves stood atop the hill. They had no idea of the fun to come and exhibited signs
of nerves. They giggled a lot. None had an inkling of the scope and extent of what
their afternoon would bring, or that it may run into the cover of darkness.
We domly ones met on several occasions and made many phone calls during
that spring. Plans finalized, tasks assigned, rules set, we reveled in the
extraordinary imagination of our creation. This one might top all our shenanigans
of the past. Months of planning complete, the Great Canadian Slave Hunt was
about to get underway.
The bullwhip cracked in the afternoon stillness. That got the slaves attention.
Before them stood their masters, each heavily garbed in military fatigues. They
were prepared for battle. The slaves were not.
“Welcome to the Great Canadian Slave Hunt gentlemen. Before you stand an
array of slaves, soon to be let loose, their goal to find shelter, to escape from the
debauchery their capture entails. It is time to reveal the game to these slaves, the
consequences of failure and the rewards for success.”
Certainly there was rapt attention from the slaves. Not a peep came from their
line. From the masters a hurrah erupted, the taste of conquest and victory in their
 blood.
“The rules are simple slave girls. In a moment you will be stripped of your
clothing. Shoes are your only possession. No watches, no clothing, no food nor
water, you will survive on your own wits. You will be naked cave women trying to
survive. When the air horn sounds the game begins. The masters before you will
sequester into the house. You will have exactly thirty minutes where you will be
unobserved. I suggest you make wise use of that time for here are the rules.”
Twelve men, masters of their domain smiled. Twelve slaves almost peed
themselves.
“From this moment on, I will refer to you as women, ladies, girls, but not
slaves. For when that horn sounds, you are no longer slaves for our purposes here
today. You are free women, free to make choices, to act independently, team up to
defend yourselves, whatever you choose, abiding only by the rules of today’s
contest. Should you be captured however, not only will you come to know what the
word slave historically meant, but, you will experience it."
The birds chirping seemed cannon fire to the silence coming from the slaves.
"Now, here are the rules."
"Today’s game is simple. You are to avoid capture by the masters. You want to
do that at all costs. The confines of the game are the property. You cannot leave it,
but you are free to roam it, conceal yourself, move around as you wish. Your whole
purpose is to avoid capture. Now let me stress this clearly. You do not want to be
captured. Trust me on this one. You absolutely do not, because if you do, it will be
a nightmare for you, far worse than the brambles nipping at your skin, the tangled
branches in your hair and the wild animals you might run into, never minding all
the spiders out there.”
The slave gasps and screams had all the men cackling. After all, they were
prepared, the slaves were not.
"So now ladies, please understand that your pursuers are prepared to track you
down, take you prisoner then display and use you as they see fit. That use, can and
may include sexual use, modesty removal, humiliation, degradation and torture. I
am quite sure you know the men standing before you are capable and able to mete
out those terms of capture. We have agreed among ourselves to use captured
prisoners without restriction. Let your mind digest what that means, but know it
isn’t good for you."
"Undoubtedly, some of you will be captured early. To those escaping the initial
onslaught, hear well the screams coming from this hill. Those are your captured
sisters and the screams are real."
 "When you are all caught, or at ten o’clock tonight, or when the horn sounds
twice the game is over. Then you can return to the house safely. We do not expect
any of you to make it that far", and the men grinned.
So the game began.
The slaves stripped, the horn sounded and a pack of naked fannies scattered to
the woods. The masters retired to the living room laughing.
Shrieks were periodically heard from the woods, and we knew someone got a
soaker, or a tree branch up her ass. There were spiders and ants and all kinds of
vermin out there, no doubt as the slaves were discovering.
We reviewed the plan of attack. Divided into quadrants, four teams of two
masters were responsible for an area. Each had an all-terrain vehicle at their
disposal, still hidden in the barn from the slaves. Maximum mobility, deploy early
and strike fast. This was a military exercise and we were glad one master had the
background to organize us. Ropes were ready to tether the prisoner to the back of
the ATV and drag her along behind, bound and on display to the capture cage and
certain defilement. Four more men remained in reserve ready where needed and
guarding the prisoners. Armed with radios, each man had their rope. Reserves and
reinforcements could be called in any time slaves were discovered.
It was time. Mounted and ready, the hunt was on!
And then the first slave was caught. Then a second, third and a fourth… they
fell fast, some seeming to prefer the torture that awaited captivity, than hiding
naked among the vermin. But that’s life ain’t it. We all make choices, and we
never promised the slaves they would like everything, so suck it up princess. We
made sure they’d choose the wild next time.
Within three hours eleven slaves were bound and spread-eagled on the dirt.
Staked and blindfolded, naked with not a shred of modesty left, it made quite a
spectacle. We didn’t use sex of course, though there seemed no need for the slaves
to know that. That doesn’t mean they weren’t well displayed and tortured, but only
after their scrapes were attended and lotion applied for sunburn. Naturally more
than one set of hands applied the lotion, and not gently either. Often four of five
sets had slaves moaning and squealing. A little pinchNprobe never hurt a slave.
Nicely oiled up, we smeared dirt onto their bodies and through their hair turning
them into disgusting guttersnipes. They smelt and looked like they hadn’t bathed in
a month. Nipples clamped and twisted, speculums opening the gates of pleasure. It
was fun indeed, especially seeing them squirm and struggle to avoid the basest
sounds of what they thought were men masturbating over them. The syringe of a
creamy hot mixture really messed them up when they felt many loads of cum
squirting on their bodies. Well, except for a few who had their mouths open. Dirty
 ditch-pigs!
Pain wasn’t avoided either. We needed screams to warn the free women of their
awaiting fate. And it was all good, scream they did, especially after spreading
honey on their face. Hearing the word ants did the trick.
So the afternoon went splendidly. Everything worked to perfection. We had a
blast, and despite protests to the contrary so did the slaves.
But something was missing…. or in this case, someone. We were missing a
slave. One was still at large. She was challenging us to find her, snubbing her nose
at our authority. She thought herself superior. This had to change. With the
gauntlet thrown we took up the challenge in earnest.
In fact, the missing slave was mine, the only one that knew the property
intimately. Eleven captured and accounted for, one MIA. This was unacceptable
and the teams reconvened.
There were a million places for her to hide. She had the advantage of known
terrain. Finding her would be difficult. I smirked in silence as my peers planned
the assault.
Someone distributed flashlights to check the crannies of the barn, under
floorboards and the deep recesses of the darkening forest. They concocted pincer
movements to seal escape routes and planned flank marches to force her into the
open. Their energy and creativity was remarkable. But they knew it would be a
long tough mission finding her.
But enough was enough. She could hide, but not for long. A master must know
his slave.
“Gentlemen”.
“There is an easier way” and pointed to the dog.
“Go find her boy”… and off we trailed in our ATV’s. Her capture now but
moments away.
In the end, there was damage. One ATV had a flat tire. The lawn was a mess
from stakes and dirt. A flashlight fell into the creek. Masters were forced to cook
their own supper and feed slaves still bound on the grassy knoll. But it wasn’t so
bad. We had the spoils of war and despite a few scratches and scrapes, they were
none the worse for wear. Vanilla men might have their trophy wives, but we have
our slaves and are forever grateful.
 Chapter XI - Share The Love
Monogamy – Sharing & Using Others

Is there any more controversial issue within the BDSM lifestyle than the two-
headed monster of a master using other slaves, and sharing his own with others?
The Judeo-Christian values of monogamy, partnering and fidelity are still the
ethical and moral foundation of western civilization. It is not the purpose here to
debate the morality of individual choices to engage in the practice of sharing or
monogamy. Quite frankly, those are private choices and no business of mine.
Whether a master wants to own one slave, have a polyamory relationship with
multiple slaves, have a House with multiple masters and slaves, or wants three
ducks and a wild boar, is no skin off my ass. Go for it if that makes you happy.
What is important for masters owning one slave though, is addressing the practice
and issues surrounding his using other slaves, and sharing his own.
There are many within the lifestyle who’s moral values are such that monogamy
at all levels is an unbreakable boundary, etched in stone. For a variety of religious,
moral, ethical, health and safety reasons, they will not entertain, consider, or
practice anything but monogamy, physically and emotionally. For others,
monogamy is only practiced to various degrees. It is not the intention here to
advocate sharing, or monogamy. Again, that is essentially a personal private
decision. However, those practicing monogamy as a sacred cow in their
relationship, might find this section interesting to read, but there is little here for
them to grow their relationship. Those wanting to understand and perhaps grow
their slave to the practice of sharing intimacies, be they physical, or emotional, the
issues and path to practicing it safely are examined closely. Make your own
decision of course, but make it from an informed position. There are many
excellent masters on both sides and whether you do, or do not; does not reflect in
the quality of your mastery. But, if you want to practice some form of sharing, then
let us do it in a way that is safe, secure, and enriches everyone involved. There are
issues about sharing requiring analysis, both pro and con, and there are some
universal truths, which is a good place to start.
The four truths about sharing your slave are first, to understand that sharing is
risky and not for everyone. Even in solid master-slave relationships, emotional risk
is present. Some people, both masters and slaves, just cannot handle it emotionally,
and if you cannot, then don’t.
The second truth is that sharing is not as universally widespread in the
BDSM community as one might gather at first glance. Despite a lot of noise made
in literature, on electronic bulletin boards, mail lists, in chat rooms, and on web
 pages, once you have been in the scene a number of years, the amount of sharing
that occurs, is not proportionate to the amount of noise made about this contentious
issue. The hoopla generally comes from those who have come into the
lifestyle with dubious motives, make a splash and are gone in a few years. They
come in making broad declarations, often worthy of a third rate porn novel, and
preach about polyamory and the sharing of slaves like they invented it. But, while
they make their proclamations, the reality is, their ilk come and go in a few years
having worn out their welcome after discovering there is more work to slave
ownership than demanding obedience. That of course, is not to their liking at all
and off they go, undoubtedly to have a try at the swingers world. The result is a
disproportionate amount of noise about sharing, made mostly by the transient.
The third truth in sharing is that after excluding the online predator dominants,
when analyzing and observing real-life people who have lived in master-
slave relationship for more than a few years, it appears it is the masters who are
generally against sharing their slaves. It is not uncommon to find slaves, generally
speaking, in favor of it. For many newcomers and casual observers to the lifestyle,
that is an unexpected anomaly. The observation and ensuing theory that perhaps
masters, more so than their slaves, are relatively more conservative in nature, begs
for a professional sociological research study. Perhaps it is a conservative nature,
or perhaps it is a manifestation of deep insecurity issues within some masters.
Importantly though, it might well indicate that perhaps leadership is not as strong as
the surface words would indicate. But, that is for the psychologists to study, not
this book.
The fourth truth about sharing is that among those that do share, it is widespread
practice that many are very particular about with whom they share their slaves.
Rarely do masters give carte blanche use to any Tom, Dick or Harriet. The wise
masters too, are equally particular with whom they will use.
The concept of sharing your slave and using others, comes in four distinct
flavors, each with different issues. There is the master-slave couple niche, the poly-
family or house relationship style, the BDSM-Swinger crossover group and of
course, the relationship cheaters. The first group, the master-slave couple is of
interest in context of this book.
Sharing for purposes of this book is defined as physical intimacy with another,
outside the primary relationship, but with the full knowledge of all parties.
Emotional intimacy is excluded, because then you are into the realm of poly
relationships and multiple slaves. Lets not split hairs and concern ourselves with
whether sharing a physical intimacy involves just sexual contact with another, or
includes S&M interaction. The intimacies are the same for many, myself included.
Top/bottom folks may have a different definition. Where one wants to draw the
line is their choice. The physical and emotional effort made by the master, when
 using S&M to get into her mind, to grow her need and explore the depth of her
submissive feelings, is every bit as intimate as sexual contact for many masters and
why no distinction is made.
So the sharing two-headed monster are the issues and circumstances of sharing
your slave and using another slave, not owned by you. Each has attending
responsibilities and motivations. Lets look at them.

Sharing You Slave

When considering whether to share your slave, there is an axiom many in the
TPE niche ascribe to that identifies the framework and context in which sharing will
occur. While others may and often do share for different reasons, sharing is an
advanced step in the development and growth between a master and slave. It can
create some major issues unless there is context. A foundation needs to be laid that
helps avoid issues coming up in the first place, rather than having to deal with them
when emotions are raw, and damage may already have occurred. Providing that
foundation is called leadership. If sharing is to occur, then she needs to believe in
the axiom Emotional Monogamy but Physical Sharing. In essence it says,
“Pet, I am going nowhere. I am not bored with you, or acting to degrade,
humiliate, or belittle you. You will be shared because you are my slave, the woman
I love and am committed to. You have a beautiful ability to give pleasure. I own
your body. Giving pleasure pleases me and helps you understand, that while
physically you may be shared, emotionally you never will be, nor will I commit to
another. You are mine forever. While another may give you orders, they are my
orders, because I have entrusted some temporary power to that person. Neither is
he your master, nor she your mistress, if that comes to be. Your obedience is
always to me, albeit sometimes by proxy. You must understand and believe in that."
"You will not be shared indiscriminately, or have your health put at risk. But
you will obey as if it is me, because it is. You have surrendered your body and I
will use it as I see fit. There is no shame, or guilt in the honest providing of
pleasure, in fact there is a nobility of purpose. That is your freedom of submission.
No one ever died because they gave pleasure safely, honestly and with good
intentions. You need not feel insecure, or inadequate because seeing you shared,
giving pleasure, secure in who you are pleases me, and that security and
commitment between us is an unbreakable intimacy to be savored and enjoyed. You
can obey others because I demand it of you. Your obedience grows our intimacy
together, and is another step along our journey."
"You are a slave, to be used and cherished. Your slave heart demands that
intimacy, no less than I do. Know the pride I feel in your obedience, the freedom of
 your submission and dedication to me so evident and real. Be it service tasks, an
exploration of pain, or sexually used by another, focus on who you are, the pride I
feel, and take comfort in knowing you are honoring your choice and obeying just
me. Be the best you can, I demand that of you too. Never will I relinquish my
responsibilities for you. You are safe and owned. I know who you are and of your
needs to please me."

The Afterglow

She snuggled in his arms peacefully. They were both still wide-awake, their
minds each savoring the special night they had enjoyed. He smiled to himself
knowing now was the time to re-enforce the context she thrived knowing. It had
been a difficult evening for her in some ways, but easy and peaceful in others. She
was a slave through and through, devoted to him, able to surrender to his
leadership. Her trust was total. She already knew trust did not grow after
collaring. Once given in its entirety, how could it? She understood that the
progressive steps to total trust were complete, and demanding of her as he had
tonight, was but a re-affirmation of why placing that trust was the right decision.
She was shared for the first time and it worked so far. Now he needed to
complete the process he had begun that first moment so long ago when they met. It
was clear to her from the first day that eventually she would be shared, and the
thought had made her anxious and unsure. He knew it would. She had no context
then, so understanding the theory was one thing, but the reality was quite different.
She had come with the notion that sharing somehow made her inadequate or
uncared for, yet at the same time the thought produced some of her most powerful
feelings of submission. The utter surrender of being used as chattel aroused her in
the extreme, and as early as her teen years, she had spent many nights fantasizing of
being passed around. Yet the reality was even more intense than those youthful
nights spent in longing.
She understood her masters need to keep her safe, and for that she loved him.
Yet, his cocoon of caring did not diminish the powerful feelings of slavery when
she was used to give pleasure. That her sexual release was sometimes denied only
intensified the thrill and sent her deeper into devotion to him. That he even knew
and accepted this need in her was a source of amazement to her. Even when the
frenzy of being shared was paramount, she focused her mind and body,
surrendering to her position, giving pleasure, or enduring as she must. Never far
from her consciousness was the security of knowing her master was brave enough
to look beyond jealousy and insecurity. He was a natural leader. He was there for
her, committed and unwavering, when others in the past could, or would not
understand her need.
 That he shared her with his best friend was no surprise. He was vigilant of the
vulnerabilities in her psyche and took this first step in exploring and developing her
obedience and service safely. Yet she knew it was just the first step. In time, she
had no doubt, she would be shared with others, always obeying her master but
knowing women and strangers might well be in her future. She shivered in his arms
in nervous anticipation and even felt a twinge of fear at the thought.
He felt, more than saw her shiver and rolled onto his side facing her. Their eyes
met and the depth of her submission pounded on his heart. He loved this girl and
thought of the lengths he would go to protect her. She was alive and vital, so
willing and anxious to follow his path. Her eyes could not hide the need to serve
and be safe, yet he owned her because there was more there. Her slavery was her
path to explore, to be pushed and used with adventure and risk. He could see the
paradox of her strength that others missed. He owned her because of this balance,
and thus could find happiness in pulling her through life with him.
“How do you feel pet?”
She smiled softly.
“I’m peaceful now.”
“It is amazing what goes through your mind. I wanted to please you more than
anything. I know you had told me his commands were yours and to devote myself to
obeying him. Yet, at times I would lose that and think you were gone, that he owned
me and I didn’t like it. In a way I felt humiliated. He is different, his style and
words and body. It was difficult to give my best when I lost my focus on you. But
then I would remember, and it would come back that you were watching and the
surge in wanting to be better than anyone he has ever had, to make you proud
would overwhelm me. It was like a teeter-totter, up and down. The worst was when
I thought you were doing this because you didn’t need me anymore, or that I didn’t
turn you on.”
She paused and the room was quiet as she gathered her thoughts.
“But you know what Master? Lying here now I understand about the intimacy
you talked about. I can see it in your eyes. You are brave. You can share me
without feeling jealous, or insecure as many others would and yet, I know you are
not going anywhere. I know you are my master through everything and that’s why I
feel peaceful. You never let me feel cheapened by what we do. I wanted to please
you.”
She amazed him sometimes. Perhaps it was just the realization that her need to
please and serve was so strong. She was not like other women. The need was on
her sleeve and transparent to those that could see it. She truly found enormous
happiness in slavery.
 “I am very proud of you. I saw my slave, you pet, obeying in a difficult and new
situation. You didn’t hesitate, you obeyed outside the box, in a way few can, or
others appreciate. That is a gift you have. Like some people have artistic talent,
you have a gift of strength, to trust with all you are.”
“You are my slave and always will be. There is no one else for me and I know
you feel the same. That is what allows me to go where we do. We both enjoy
pleasure, giving and receiving it from others, safe and secure that emotionally we
are together. It does not represent something missing between us, but rather it is
our commitment that frees us to explore these areas. Seeing you used sexually,
knowing you were mine, knowing you gave yourself because it pleased me, knowing
you could enjoy the pleasure you were given, and knowing you were pleasing with
all you had, because you are my slave, stirred my heart. I feel even closer to you, if
that is even possible. Yes pet, I am very proud of you, and very much in love.”

Why Share Your Slave

Back in the early years within Wayne’s group, I was exposed to the sharing of
slaves for the first time. Many Friday and Saturday evenings were spent learning
about this exotic lifestyle. There was so much to learn and it was coming at me
fast. It was a veritable cornucopia of the exotic, mixed with rigid structure,
intimacy, coarseness and what at times seemed like savage brutality. It included of
course, the sharing of slaves, and masters using slaves other than their own. The
ebb and flow of each couples dynamics was startling, moving from incredible
intimacy and acts of tenderness between them, to what appeared to be the exact
opposite, a casual sharing of these precious women as if they were baseball cards to
be passed around and shared liberally. There was no question the slaves loved how
they were used, yet to my neophyte eyes, it was a paradox. But in those days I was
still learning the slave mindset and of course, was not privy to the years of
relationship and structure building that had laid the foundation for what I was
seeing. So, it was confusing. There was no context to frame it all.
In time, the picture cleared and came into focus and my surface observations of
seeing a master flogging and sometimes fucking another’s slave, evolved from just
really cool voyeurism, and what appeared as a group of people with extremely
liberal sexual mores, to something far more profound. The realization came in an
offhand remark late one evening, when activities were winding down. A hand was
laid on my shoulder and Wayne smiled. He said,
“I don’t need to use other slaves and don’t need to share Sylvia. And I won’t
when the need is gone and when we have outgrown the benefits it brings us. Then I
will move on to a new challenge.”
 And I understood. It was not a game, or a swinging party. Rather, there was a
plan and each master was executing his. He was guiding and growing his slave’s
submission; her understanding of who she was; giving her joy in the opportunity to
serve, growth for others he used and of course himself. These men shared their
slaves when it was safe to do so, in stages, constantly pushing the envelope but
always savoring the steps. There were a variety of peripheral benefits, but it was
always guided by the need to encourage her freedom in submission, to feel the
goodness of her choice, even when it was difficult. They were masters at building
their personal intimacy, trust and love. They saw no wrong in giving pleasure,
which is essentially what sharing is. Their slaves gave pleasure to others, which in
turn pleased them or they would not have shared in the first place. That in turn
pleased the slave. It was a win-win for these people, done in this context, with
these unique needs.
So why would a master get pleasure sharing his slave so intimately?
That is always a good question and of course, many do not, thus why sharing is
not as widespread as popular opinion would have you believe. But, there are
masters who share their slaves and all of them in Wayne’s group did, and they all
did so for a variety of reasons, but always with the same goal.
One of the oaths made to a slave in owning her is to explore all of her sexuality
and sensuality. These are areas she cannot, or will not go alone, and her master has
the perfect opportunity to explore this area with her. I do not know anyone and
challenge you to identify anyone, who would not take the opportunity to explore all
their sexuality, if it could be done emotionally and physically safely. It is just
common sense to want to. That people have different sexual needs is a given, and
not each person’s path is the same, so do not confuse this to mean all people must
do all things. That is not what this is about. But where the need exists to explore
their sexuality, a master can guide his slave there.
It helps to understand what sex is beyond the obvious procreation element.
Without falling into the mind numbing condescension of define is explanation for a
blowjob presented by Billy-boy Clinton, sex is the giving of pleasure to another
human being. Let’s leave dogs, horses and chickens out of this. We are not going
there. Sex is done for a plethora of reasons, but that is essentially what sex is about,
pleasure, or as I prefer in this context, pleasure with a purpose. The purpose for the
master is a combination of these reasons:
Her giving pleasure builds bonding and intimacy between them. Intimacy is one
of the four pillars of good relationships.
Giving pleasure develops feelings of submission. She is given the opportunity to
serve and that is a core element of the slave mindset. She wants to serve and please
and this is but another chance to do so, to be free and be a slave.
 He takes pride in her freedom to obey. Her bringing smiles and joy into others
lives as part of the goodness of the human spirit is important. He takes pride in her
ability to be open-minded and not restricted by the need of social conformity
instilled by others prudent values. And she takes pride in her master giving her the
opportunity to be who she is, a caregiver and compassionate, vibrant human being.
And giving pleasure is fun.

The Bet

He just grinned.
“You want to bet your Master pet? Are you crazy, losing your marbles, or has
your brain turned into a schmucked gourd?”
She laughed.
“I’m serious Master. I have been practicing and think I can beat you.”
He grabbed her by the hair and pinched her nipple.
“Pet, I strongly suggest before we go any farther, you might want to re-phrase
how you put that. You are not ‘beating’ me. Ever!”
“Oh shit, right, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I think I can win.”
He tweaked her other nipple.
“That is for the potty mouth”, he said.
“Don’t you remember I can change the rules anytime I want?”
“C’mon Master, be serious please. Play fair.”
He smirked.
“Fine girl, so what’s the bet?”
“Well, I was thinking oral sex would be fun.”
“Deal, get the Scrabble Board girl. I am going to kick your ass around the
block and back again.”
An hour later he growled.
“You have to be the luckiest wench in the harem. Whoda thunk it. You won.”
She was beaming now. The first time she had won against him.
 “I have been practicing Master. Can I cash in the bet now?”
“Well, a deal is a deal pet, you won, on your knees then” and he opened his
pants.
In their world, the winner gave pleasure. It is how they were wired, what they
believed in, and how they lived. There are givers and takers in the world. They
were both givers. It was more noble and satisfying to give pleasure than receive it.

There is another reason slaves are shared, and while it is not for everyone, for
some it is an important reason. They flat out love it. The alpha male growls and
turns her into his slut, a cum depository, a toy to be played with, fucked,
whipped and used. The utter surrender, objectification and raw sexuality produces
incredibly deep feelings of submission, hammering home who she is and she loves
it. It frees her to know she is serving at the very deepest levels, that while she is
treasured and loved, she has this complete need to surrender. She is his slave in the
deepest sense, reaching an almost irrational level, but so deep she knows there is
nothing that cannot be demanded of her, or that she would not do. It frees her to an
incredible degree, done in a framework knowing she is important, counts, and is
appreciated in the whole. Her need to be used without limitations is one of her
needs.

Using Other Slaves

So we have dealt with sharing your slave. But that is only one half of the two-
headed sharing monster. The other half is of course, using other slaves and like all
of this lifestyle, there are positive and destructive ways to do it.
Let me suggest first, that you need to be clear and honest with your slave from
the beginning, that this is part of your life and structure. It is on the path she will
journey, when the time is right. You may use other slaves, be it to train other
master’s slaves for a particular purpose on a temporary basis, or to give other slaves
sexual pleasure, or in exploration of her submissive mind using S&M. But it is
always done in context and within the framework of rules you establish and teach
upfront. Do not be rambunctious and immature about using other slaves when
explaining how this is done. There are some longstanding guidelines, developed
through experience that are worth noting, and that aspiring masters should strongly
consider adhering to. The guidelines are simple. They address the potential issues
that can come from your slave, but also from those you use. They also provide a
healthy framework to take her safely into this area, physically and emotionally.
Being a simple man, I try to work a situation to be as neat and uncomplicated as
 possible. It is the KISS Principle, but in BDSM terms, it is really the Kiss-My-
Ass principle.
The easiest first step for all concerned is to begin by only using owned, or
collared slaves. It is one reason I cultivate deep friendships with other masters.
Good masters have the best slaves, so it stands to reason. This approach
immediately addresses one of the first concerns your slave may have, which is that
of jealousy. Jealousy is almost always a manifestation of insecurity within a slave.
Concerns about her relationship with you can be real, and she must have an
unqualified belief that you are genuine in your emotional commitment to her. She
does not want to lose you, and a collared slave is rarely a threat to your
relationship. This makes it exponentially easier to adjust to the concept of sharing
her master’s skills, if that is an issue. For many slaves, it is not. Note how that was
said; you are sharing your skills. You are not trying to replicate the emotional
intimacy you enjoy with your slave. That is a profound difference that needs
teaching and drilled into her until she absorbs and believes it.
While it seems prevalent in the BDSM world that slaves are concerned and
insecure about sharing their master’s skills, I have never run across it personally.
The slaves I have owned over the years, never had issues with me using other
slaves, be it S&M or sexually. That may be dumb good luck, or because
patience and foundation building, was the order of the day. Regardless, even if she
had no issues from day one, the foundation is always laid first. A master using
another slave the week after collaring his own, may not be charting the wisest
course he can take. Oh hell, let us just come out and say it. Using another slave is
an advance step on the master-slave journey, one to be taken, surely, but not in the
first week, or month. You have barely had time to enjoy your own slave, and if you
are off beating another, the wrong signals is sent. It is another case of BDSM
spectrum inconsistency, and poor he said, she heard communication. Despite any
rationalizing you may do, she is getting the wrong message. Take your time, what
is the rush? Savor and enjoy her steps. There are a lot of them to take before
getting to this one. Take those steps surely, but in an orderly, patient way. In this
way you build the trust and confidence in her that you are emotionally committed,
which is a priority realization for sharing to work in a healthy way. She needs this,
and you do to. Take her into this area from a solid emotional foundation of
permanence.
So, you have built her confidence and trust in you, and you have been patient.
You have decided to take the slow, safe approach in this often difficult area and will
use only collared slaves at first. Terrific, now what?
There are two other factors to consider in how to use others, before we get to
why you would. When it comes time to use an un-collared slave, again use a
progressive approach. Develop a relationship with the single slave such that your
 slave trusts her too, is her friend and is not threatened by her potentially
encroaching on her master’s commitment. Whether you like it or not, women often
think in those terms, so recognize the reality and address it. Take the initiative with
the new slave too. Explain to her in no uncertain terms there will be a wonderful
friendship between the three of you, but no deeper emotional bond will grow.
Explain that in front of your slave. You are the master. You have no need for
subterfuge. When your slave is comfortable and secure you will know it and she is
no dummy. She knows you use other slaves and will probably use this one too. So
make it easy for her.
Another trick of the trade, and it is an important one, is that when it comes time
to use another, involve your slave. Keep her informed and never go behind her
back. There is no need to be dishonest, you are the master and she is the slave, so
lead, do not dodge about in the shadows. Involve her, have her there watching or
better yet, participating. Your slave is a kinky wench, so get her involved. It is
fun. But even if she is only watching, there are wonderful benefits for you both.
Your slave has enjoyed your skills used on her. She knows beforehand you are a
wonderful lover and a skilled craftsman in the S&M arts. She has felt the
combination of caring compassion, sadistic creativity, the raw power of your
presence, and the strength of your body. Now, for the first time, she can witness it.
She can see your skill and teachings on display, the way you work a slave’s body
and mind to create pleasure and incredibly deep feelings of submission in the other
girl. Make no mistake, she is feeling enormous pride in watching her master do his
thing. She knows she belongs to you, that you selected her over all others and made
a permanent bond with her. It is she you want, own, train, love and are committed
to. Be good and make her proud. Do your thing, master the skills and use them.
You will reap the benefits on both ends.
So, now you have a proven blueprint to explore a whole new area of your
relationship and the lifestyle.
Be patient and build her trust to know you are emotionally committed forever,
or fifty years, whichever comes first.
You are in no rush to use another and want to enjoy and use your own
slave first.
You are totally honest with her, knowing you have no need to go behind her
back.
You will use owned slaves first, who are presumably dedicated to their own
master, who has agreed to this sharing. This overcomes feelings of inadequacy or
jealous insecurities she might have.
Then use un-owned slaves she is friends with, understands and knows, who are
not competition for her.
 Then, when it comes time to use another, include her. Let her watch or be
involved. That produces pride in seeing you so respected, so skilled, and all hers.
So now, just two questions remain. Why would a master want to use other
slaves, and how do you make growth occur? The first question is rather simple to
answer. The second more difficult, and sometimes the answer is not the one the
master hopes for, because some slaves just cannot buy into the whole sharing thing,
under any circumstances. It is just anathema to their moral code. If that is the case,
so be it. You cannot force it, nor do you want to. If she cannot embrace the sharing
concept, you cannot go there. To force it on her is morally bankrupt and abusive.
This is not the same as force fucking her when she is not in the mood. That is just
plain good old-fashioned hotness! This is a breach of her ethics.
You may argue she is topping from below, but that is irresponsible rationalizing
on your part. The fact may be that you were honest from the start in telling her
where she would be led and she may have made that a boundary. You cannot
breach her boundaries. But even if she did not, rather only thought it was a limit
and was willing to listen and try to get over her insecurities or moral objections for
you, the fact is, if you take her to a place that undermines her ethics and moral code,
it is not her with problems, it is you. Making an argument she is topping from
below is a red herring, disguising that you are acting with destructive selfishness in
not recognizing her moral values. Her problem is not the inability to be involved in
sharing when she was honest about her feelings all along; her problem is she has an
abusive master. Encourage her along your path, that is a good thing, but know
when to back off. You have the responsibilities of leadership. They include setting
and abiding by healthy standards, respectful of individual moral codes. Then it is
up to you to decide if sharing is that important to your vision and the whole picture,
or do you have the wrong slave.
So why would a master want to use others when he has a loving devoted
submitted partner? The first reason is simply because it is fun. When done in the
context described above, it is enjoyable and pleasurable for three, four, or however
many you involve. I have never been averse to having fun when no one is getting
hurt. Well, that needs re-phrasing. Many get hurt and we love that, but no one is
harmed. Besides, pacing around and tormenting slaves bound naked together is
fun.
Using others is also another opportunity to explore her sexuality and sensuality
as you promised to do. The first time she is involved with others, who knows, but
she may love it. However, she is experiencing it in conditions that are safe,
creative, and unthreatening. Lets not forget who she is, a slave. She wants to be
and likes being submissive, serving and obedient. Using other slaves is part of
that. She understands and feels her submission, that she is chattel at times, used and
endures for her master. That he uses other slaves, often has a positive effect in
 helping her understand the totality of her submission. She does not need to enjoy
everything to thrive in slavery. This is not all about her and what turns her on. A
slave at times will be making sacrifices. Accepting that her master likes giving
pleasure to others, and that he does it honestly, without any permanent emotional
attachment to those he uses, is both safe and a profound part of understanding who
she is in his life; his partner, lover, and slave. She counts, she matters, she is
important, and nothing threatens that commitment.
All that said, sharing is risky and not for everyone.

Mind Fuck #17 – “Growth in Sharing

“Pet, we are getting to know one another and I am enjoying where we are going
and what we are sharing. You are a special slave."
She beamed.
“Well Sir, you know my thoughts, that I want to serve and be yours.
“Good girl, we are moving there. It is a long journey of little steps.”
Two months had gone by since they met and the sparks had flown immediately.
Within days they were exclusively committed to exploring a master-
slave relationship together. In such a short time he had led her on an exploration
into his life and what hers will be like in slavery to him. And it was all good. They
had discussed countless aspects of the lifestyle. Now the time had come to talk
about another, this time a contentious one. He could accomplish two things
showing her what was meant by growing together, and the reality of the path he
traveled. He would show her using the sharing issue.
“Pet, awhile ago we talked briefly about monogamy and in particular my
position and belief in Emotional Monogamy. It is a sacred cow to me. I am not a
poly master personality. I’m too lazy. One of you slavegirls is all I can handle and
have the energy for.”
She laughed.
“I’m glad to hear that Sir. I don’t think I would do well serving alongside
another.”
“Well, don’t get to cocky slave wench, my dog is loyal, obedient, easy to feed,
doesn’t talk back, never takes her collar off when your parents visit, and unlike you,
is paper trained. Come to think of it, if you weren’t so sexy and I don’t do dogs,
figuratively, or literally, I’d wonder why I need you.”
They laughed together.
 “Well, she is a cute puppy, Sir. Jealousy should be no problem for me, but what
about her? And I’m glad to hear you don’t do dogs.”
“Goodgirl, and that’s what I wanted to talk about so you understand about the
issues surrounding monogamy. Remember when we talked, I used the term
“Emotional Monogamy, but Physical Sharing?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Well, we didn’t talk in depth about it and will now.”
“Thank you Sir, I wanted to talk about it too, because I didn’t understand and it
worries me.”
He nodded.
“Pet, you know I use other slaves and will share you eventually. You already
know it won’t be tomorrow, or next month. I have work to do with you first and
want to enjoy you. I don’t have a burning desire to flog and fuck every cute slave
that comes along. I have you for that. But in time, I will use others when our
foundation of emotional commitment is solid, and there is purpose and growth for
us. I will use others because it is fun, because I love teaching about the beauty of
this lifestyle and can help others understand this lifestyle. But most importantly, I
love creating wonderful feelings of submission, pride and devotion within you. I
will never use a slave to develop an emotional attachment with them. That is
exclusively between you and I. But, I have always separated the ‘giving of
pleasure’ and helping people grow, from ‘emotional commitment’. While one
includes the other, they are not always linked at the hip”.
“So what I want you to do, is tell me your thinking about the idea, issues and
feelings about your master using other slaves.”
She smiled, but to herself was thinking what a bugger this man was. He always
asked the hard questions. She could see there would be no hiding from him. He
was relentless at getting at her honesty. It flummoxed her. It was so different than
others she had known. He demanded so politely, relentlessly. It was exotic and so
very comforting. He was easy to trust. The devilishness was hidden, but never his
honesty.
“Sir, to be honest, I am nowhere near that level. I’ve listened to you, read your
contract about sharing and that you can use other slaves, and I can see myself
watching with tears in my eyes. I feel I am so far away from that part of the
journey. It intimidates me so.”
“You understand it is an advanced step together pet, and not one we are going
to soon. Is it a panic intimidation born of fear that this is hanging over your head
today?”
 “I understand that, Sir. I know it is not an immediate thing. I just think of your
need to do this and it threatens me. Why can’t I please him? Inadequacy. Aren’t I
enough? It is about intimacy for me. It is all about that. I think I would feel
jealous because it feels like my intimacy is shared with another. I didn’t say that
very elegantly. What I mean is that my master shares intimacy with me. To watch
him with another is to take a piece of me and watch it given away.”
“There are lots of things there pet. Lets take it slowly and deal with them one at
a time. So part of what I hear is that I am forbidden in your mind, from sharing my
skills, and am only allowed a certain amount of pleasure, and that you will decide
the amount, that I cannot help others learn and feel who they are. That is selfish is
it not? Your feelings are legitimate at this point, I acknowledge that, but my ability
to share, teach and nurture is limited to just you?”
“Well it feels more like private to me, but I acknowledge it might be selfish,
wanting my master exclusively.”
He smiled.
“Well, many do pet, you are certainly the norm in this regard.”
“Is that terribly disappointing Sir?”
“Hearing your honest opinions is never disappointing pet. Unless of course,
you think my jokes are bad, then you can lie to me.”
They grinned together. Both were enjoying this. The talk in and of itself was
building a foundation of trust and honesty, but most importantly to him, she was
learning how issues were dealt with. She was also learning he listened. He knew
sharing would eventually happen. He would grow her to accepting and wanting it
before the afternoon was over, but even if it took longer, he knew he could. But
now she was learning how to talk to him, and that was good too. He was pleased.
“Let your mind go for a minute pet, I want your thoughts on this. Let’s say I
have owned you for five years. We are happy. I have never used another, but you
know the time is near. We are at a party. I have used you at the party as I do,
intensely, magically, with compassion, intimacy, and savagery. It is a good scene,
not just the S&M, but blended with caring. You feel wonderful, treasured.
Afterwards a girl comes over, kneels in respect and politely asks, ‘Sir, would you
flog me, take me where she went. It was beautiful, so intimate, so much of what I
think I can give a master?’ So I smile and say ‘No, I cannot, my slave is
threatened by you.’ Stark answer is it not? It’s not one I would say aloud, but that
effectively is the answer. How would that make you feel?”
She was thinking. Her answer would decide if this was going to be the short
path to growth, or a longer path to her understanding and overcoming her
 reservations.
“Well, there is an alternative response. ‘I am complimented, but I enjoy my
slave to the point I do not want intimacy beyond hers.’”
“Yes, that is a valid answer, but for two things. The scene would not be to the
level of intimacy we share, because as hard as I might try, I cannot give her that. It
is not in me. My heart is with you. But, I could teach and help her understand the
needs within her, without emotionally bonding to her, and still make it enjoyable
and special. The other thing is, your answer is not me. I see a different level of
intimacy between the scenes, the difference defined by the emotional monogamy I
talked about earlier.”
“Yes Sir, I know that.”
“I want to see the pride in your eyes when I take her there and she experiences
a little of who she is. I want that never to threaten us, because for me it doesn’t. I
know I’m not going anywhere without you, and it will do that girl some good, and it
is fun for me to bring that out in her. Now the challenge is to pave the road so it
does you some good too. I want you beside me enjoying not just our growth, but
hers too. We aren’t there yet.”
“Yes Sir, I understand.”
“But that still threatens you?”
She nodded. I could see she wanted to be there with me. She just needed the
pathway out of her insecurities. It was going to be the longer path today, but I was
patient.
“Fair enough pet. So now, we are at the same party, we are chatting with
people, when in the course of the conversation, it is appropriate to illustrate what
feelings can be generated in this lifestyle by reaching over and grabbing a single
slave’s hair, look her in the eye and say ‘But you have the heart of a slave, you
know it and I know it.’ She feels it immediately and whoosh, she is mush. I have
created feelings of who she can be in a simple, common, relatively benign, but
intimate act of grabbing her hair. Hearing this, does it bring on a rush of anxiety
as you sit here right now?”
“I sure wish I didn’t have to answer honestly Sir, cuz it does.”
“I like your honesty pet, it’s nice.”
“I wish I was different than I am Sir. I really try to hear what you are saying, to
try it on, to remain open to it and not be preconceived. But I just get anxious.”
He loved this. She had strong values and the strength to stand by her
convictions. That bode well for the future when she was able to overcome this. She
 would be a loyal slave. I knew where we were headed, but she had to discover it
herself.
“We are at the same party, pet. There is a couple there we know well, are
friends and respect immensely. He uses his slave with incredible intimacy and
harshness. She collapses and he bundles her off to the corner. You turn to me and
say ‘My gawd, that was beautiful. You could see the depth of their connection. You
could see her endure for him, adore for him, and was rewarded with a trip to
happy-happy land and he still loves her while taking her through this incredible
trust and pain.’ Twenty minutes later the first girl we spoke of, the single one,
kneels at his feet and asks the same thing she asked of me. And he uses her much
the same way he did his own slave, making her feel her submission, her need, then it
is over. Both scenes were incredible. Did the intimacy with the second slave take
away from his own slave’s enjoyment, or even your enjoyment of watching it?”
“I’m thinking, Sir.”
“There are no wrong answers, just true feelings pet.”
“Well, no it didn’t, but may I share what I’m thinking?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. In the case of the couple that we both know, if you were to use her
and knowing she loved her master, I would not feel the same threat. It’s that single
one that I think may want you for herself that threatens me.”
Bang! I had her. She had come to it herself and that was important. She didn’t
realize yet just what she had said, and to the extent it would evolve, but the hard
part was done. She would be shared and in time would enjoy watching and
participating with whomever I selected, single or not. It was time to close the deal,
reel her in, and bring her home.
“Ah, but I deliberately did not use another collared slave in the example pet.”
“Why Sir?”
“Because that answer was too easy, I already knew it.”
She laughed.
“So why do you want me as your master pet, knowing these are areas I go?”
“The journey would be hard, really hard, but I believe it to be something that
would lead me to where I could be, and that the result would be the greatest
experience of my life, greatest intimacy and the greatest fulfillment, and that I could
be that for you too.”
“And it could be the worst thing that ever happened to you, trusting that far,
 that deeply, and then it ending when you could not go where I needed you to go.”
“How can I promise what a result will be when I don’t know it? Maybe I
couldn’t go there with you and it would end, maybe I could, I simply haven’t the
skill to know.”
“You are a brave woman pet. A risk-taker, with the courage to find your
happiness.”
“I want to be clear on what you said earlier about me using the other master’s
slave and that would not threaten you. Is that what I heard?”
“Not exactly. I said I thought I could do that as a first step, that it would be less
threatening to me, I didn’t promise it wouldn’t take some exposure, support and
encouragement.”
“Fair enough, that I understand. But you can see yourself getting there in the
right hands.”
“Yes Sir, I can.”
“Even if I fucked her in front of you and her master?”
“I think it’s possible.”
“And that is because she is focused on him, not me. She is obeying because that
is his wish. Do you understand what I mean?”
She smiled.
“Somehow that is easier. Yes Sir, I do.”
“But that is not just easier pet, it is the essence. It is what separates us from the
swingers and wife swappers. She is utterly and truly devoted to her master’s
pleasure, and if it pleases him that I use her, then that is exactly what makes her
happy.”
“Yes, I get that Sir. As I would please someone else to please you.”
“Yes, that too.”
“You are a lucky little slavegirl, do you know why?”
“I can think of a few reasons, but I don’t know what you are thinking.”
“I rarely use un-owned slaves, but I do from time to time and when I do, it is
often sexual. I might want you sucking me and she helping you. You would both do
it together.”
She nodded.
 “Or she might hold my balls as I fuck you. Then perhaps you hold them, as I
fuck her.”
“That would not threaten me Sir.”
“Why would that not threaten you pet?
“She is an adjunct.”
“So her being single is not a problem?”
“Hmmmmmmmm… I guess not in that instance.”
“So when I take you both to the whipping post by the hair and fasten her on and
then fasten you to the floor bolt kneeling and flog her, it doesn’t bother you then
either?
“I don’t think so.”
“Because you are right there, watching, involved and in utter submission.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Well, we just got back to where we started pet.”
“We got to where we started, Sir? I don’t understand.”
“Sure, it was easy wasn’t it? I just showed you how growth can occur in a
responsible master-slave relationship. I did what I said I would do, led you, opened
an avenue to enjoy an aspect of your sexuality you could not go to yourself, and the
one I promised to explore with you.”
“We started this conversation by saying you were nowhere near accepting my
using others. You would have tears in your eyes. Yet, here we are, in the same
conversation and you just smiled and acknowledged in the right situation, in the
right hands, not only could you enjoy me using a single slave, if it served my
purposes, but you could watch and join in. We’ve overcome your jealousies and
fears by providing you the context you needed for emotional safety, while pleasing
me and respecting your values and slavery. We found your issue. You just needed
to know you were involved. Look how far you have come in this one conversation.
From being upset at the thought of me casually pulling a slave’s hair to illustrate a
point at a party, to having me fuck a single slave, and even watching me flog her.
That is how growth occurs in this lifestyle. You had the courage to follow and lucky
for you I was leading. Humbly too. And you accepted it all. You made a complete
180 degree turnabout, without force or coercion, and you feel good about it, now
you have the context.”
“You participated and felt safe because you were in a situation to feel your
submission; cross into new areas; all the while feeling safe, while I did what I said I
would all along, use a single slave to teach her as I’m teaching you right now. And
you feel wonderful. Am I right?”
She was beaming now.
“Wow! Yes, you did do that. I didn’t realize it either.”
“It’s a long journey of little steps pet. So now, when I unbolt her and cover her
in a blanket and unbolt you and cover you in a blanket, we are all lying on the floor
together and I whisper to her, ‘You have felt who you are and for my slave, this was
difficult and I am proud of you both. Thank you girl, you helped us take a beautiful
step in our lives together, a little step that re-affirmed our commitment to each
other.”
“That is where the step occurs. When you hear how proud I am of you. That I
can express my commitment to you to another slave, then I think you will feel
peaceful.”
“More than that Sir”.
She laid her head in his lap quietly.
“You grow, you love, you trust, and I get the loyalty of a devoted slave who is
committed to my happiness. That works for me.”
“Me too Sir.”
 Chapter XII - Poly Want a Cracker… or Two… or Three?
I profess little expertise in the polyamorous aspects of the master-slave lifestyle.
It is not an area I have sought to travel over the years. For me that is only because I
am complete with one slave. She makes me happy and being somewhat selfish, the
effort to master one is enough. Perhaps it can be argued, that to master two or
more, reduces the workload on a master inversely proportional to the number of
slaves owned, and perhaps it increases his pleasure twofold. I simply do not know,
though suspect that not to be true. As time has gone on though, my mind has
opened more to the idea. However, the attending issues need identification and
addressing before I could go there.
Conceptualizing a poly power structure within the multi-partnered relationship
seems apropos. With two or more slaves, who answered to whom? Obviously the
slaves answer to, receive direction, and accept authority of the master, but within
the slave population, is there an hierarchy? Will one be the alpha slave, another the
beta, will the power structures be different for each, will this cause acrimony over
time as one slave resents the structure imposed on the other as differing from hers?
Then chores and duties too must be handled, and all are related to equality issues
among the slaves. Affection, intimacy and sex, are they equally offered by the
master, and will each slave receive those tendings in the same spirit and to the same
degree as the other? What if one slave receives more, or needs more attention from
the master, is she deemed 1st slave, the best slave, the most cherished slave, and
what effect does that have on the other?
An alpha slave egalitarian system on the surface appears appropriate when you
consider all of these factors. Consider though, the one certainty is that each slave is
different, with differing levels of needs, ambitions, desires and goals. Slaves cannot
be treated in the same way. As harmonious as that appears on paper, it flies in the
face of human nature. Complications arise becoming perhaps even destructive, and
that is not the goal of mastery.
So is there an ideal model for the poly household under the same roof? Perhaps
the answer is not to have all the slaves in the same house. Maybe it is better if one
only visits. Perhaps she needs her vanilla life more than a full-time slave
relationship, yet fulfills those needs in a poly household on weekends. Nothing
wrong with that.
Surely there are successful poly relationships. Friends of mine in the next town
over, run a very successful one. There are structures that at least work theoretically,
and with the right slave personalities could thrive. An alpha-beta slave arrangement
works, where the beta answers to both the alpha slave and the master. Some alpha
slaves will do well in the responsibility of directing the beta and the beta accepts
 her authority. It can actually be sexy as hell too. Finding a beta slave mentality
though, where she can maintain her positive self-worth in the long term, is difficult
at best.
A service slave is another approach with merit. One of my all-time favorite
slave friends is a lady from California. For her, slavery is about service. She does
not want, or seeks to attain more than being useful to her owner. If the owner has a
wife, other slaves, a poodle and a canary, she does not care. Her service is all about
being useful and keeping her masters busy life in total order, in whatever way he
deems necessary. She thrives on it. Sexuality has nothing to do with it, she is
simply and honorably a service slave. She is a very bright lady. That she serves a
high powered executive is perfect for her. The relationship with her master is
almost akin to an employer/employee setup with very similar attributes. No money
changes hands however.
So defining the power structure in the poly home is necessary, so too is the
reality of living in a vanilla community. A man living in a subdivision with two
women amidst nosey neighbors presents some tangible difficulties. Unless one is
fortunate enough to have amazingly tolerant neighbors, peer pressure can be
brought to bear, resulting in making life there uncomfortable at best. Perhaps the
local men will admire and dream for your situation, perhaps their wives will turn all
church lady-like and make life a living hell. Regardless, if privacy is important to
you, ensuring it is difficult. There is of course, always the option of lying to the
community and that is a horrible precedent.

Mind Fuck #18 – “The Big Easy”

Regardless of the love a master and slave have for one another, it is good
practice, that each should take a week annually, or at least a couple of long
weekends, and take separate mini-vacations. It is healthy and certainly recharges
the batteries for each other. It is fun to get away with the boys and likewise for
your slave to get away with her girlfriends, to do whatever it is they do on girls-
weekends.
Know your slave, and if she plans to go away with girlfriends, and particularly
if they are slave girlfriends, you better know their masters too. The results can be
hilarious.
“Well, add thirty bucks to our expense budget this month pet. I just got off the
phone with Dave in Atlanta. We had a good old chat and did some catching up.”
“Wonderful, how are they? It’s been so long since we saw them.”
“They are terrific. Laura finished her courses and wants us to move down there
now. Honestly though, I laughed my ass off. David has to be the most imaginative
master I’ve ever known.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I have one that takes second fiddle to no one”
she giggled.
“Flattery will get you spanked young slavegirl. But wait until you hear of his
latest addition to his bag of mind fucks.”
“Ut-oh, poor Laura, that girl gets put through the ringer. What did he do this
time?”
“Well, I have to admit, this was a new one, and truth be told, quite spectacular
at that.”
They were both grinning now. Laura had introduced David to the
lifestyle when they met and the common problem of the slave knowing more about
it than her master was soon overcome by his diligence and passion for learning. He
was a natural, and it came easily to him. She may have gotten a head start, but it
was no contest now. She had to struggle at times, just to keep up. But it was all
good. They were a committed loving master-slave couple, and had been dear
friends for years.
“Do tell Master, though I feel for her already.”
“Come here pet, you may feel for Laura, but I want to feel you.”
“You are not very wet girl. Not in the mood”, he grinned.
“Keep that up Sir, and I will be”, she smiled back.
“Well, pour us some coffee and I will tell you his latest trick.”
“David had a few of those Yankee beers in him when he told me, so I may not
have all the details right, but they practice the separate mini-vacation once a year,
as we do. He insists on at least one weekend a year apart and Laura just got back
from hers. She and a slave girlfriend went to New Orleans for a long weekend.”
“Oh, I like the sounds of this already. New Orleans with the girls sounds
delicious.”
“Yes, well, don’t interrupt slavegirl, or you’ll be there, doing what Laura had
to.”
He cackled and smirked.
“So anyway, David decided her little sojourn to the Big Easy should be
memorable and decided Laura needed to get fucked while she was there.”
“OMG, are you kidding Master?”
 “Not at all, but it gets better pet. Now, he knows this other slave’s master so
got the permissions and made all the arrangements to make this special. Laura,
and her slave friend, who was in on this, assisted by as many drinks as required,
from any Bourbon Street Libation Dispenser she chose, had to not just get fucked at
some point during the weekend, but the fucker had to have at least nine inches of
virile endowment!”
The slave’s mouth dropped open. He chuckled.
“Well you know Laura, if there is anyone who loves a party, it is she, and
certainly would have no hesitation about approaching some studly who she wanted
and ask for a measurement.”
Now the slave was laughing too.
“She didn’t, did she? Oh, I can see Laura going from guy to guy for a squeeze
and a measurement. OMG, this is hilarious, only she could pull it off and get away
with it. My goodness, that girl is fun.”
“Oh yes, as Dave related, she had no problem telling those young university
studs they could have her if they measured up. But there was another condition
they had to agree to. Not only did they have to be, and I am quoting David
verbatim now, ‘about two of me’ but, he wanted a picture of her holding it in all its
inflamed glory, in her hand and another of it; and I am quoting verbatim again,
‘balls deep’.”
“OMG, only those two could dream this up. Too funny. So, did she do it?
Wait, who took the pictures?”
“Well, this is where the other slave enters the picture, so to speak. Her master
would not allow her to be fucked, but she was allowed to watch, take the pictures
and roll the condom on Mr.BigBoy for Laura.”
”OMG, and did they pull it off? Was this a command she had to obey?”
“Absolutely pet, she had to get laid, it had to be at least nine inches and the
pictures are in your email account now. I had David send them to you! Go look for
yourself.”
He grinned as she raced to the computer and sure enough had mail. The
pictures proved Laura had had male too.
“OMG, that thing is huge!”
She looked up at me with her mouth open in shock and surprise.
“So pet, are you wet now?”
 She grinned shyly.
“Master, can Laura and I go on a vacation together?”
He howled.
“It’s a 9 ½ week for you, girl.”
She punched the air with her fist.
“Yes!”
And she jumped into his arms. It is hard not to love this lifestyle.
 Chapter XIII - Kiddie Korner
Living with Kids - The Invisible Rules

Probably the biggest argument against the existence of healthy master-

slave relationships in the 24/7, all-inclusive Three Power, same roof niche, is the
perceived impracticality of it. When the influences of the vanilla world and in
particular, the presence of kids in the home are factored in, people tend to give up.
But it need not be so.
Kids are great, I highly recommend them. Mine are grown now, off doing their
thing, but grew up in a master-slave household, the one pretty much described
throughout this book. They were not harmed by it. They did not even know about
it. They are healthy, well-adjusted young adults, full of energy, happy, and very
much vanilla. I think.
For many, there is a perception of an unsolvable conflict when a couple wants to
pursue master-slave living with kids in the house. The perception is the appearance
of conflict in the matter of divided loyalties and priorities, not to mention the
element of kinkiness often involved. The slave wants to serve her master at all
times, yet has these enormous responsibilities to raise her children. The master
wants his slave at his feet, serving as is her need and wish, uninterrupted and
dedicated to his pleasure and happiness, but also raises his children. On the surface
of it, the conflict is real. However, it is not. It is a red herring argument, and only
valid as an excuse to dismiss a master-slave relationship, rather than as a legitimate
reason it cannot be done. A little thought is all that is required.
Resolution of the whole issue begins with a simple unfailing and always
enforced command from the master. It is simple and is as follows:
“You are my slave girl. You have undertaken to serve and please me. My first
command, and one that will make me a very happy camper master, is that you will
be the best mother you can be, sparing no energy, or effort to that goal. Do you
understand?”
Now what has this little command done?
Well, simply put, it has recognized that while the personal relationship of
master-slave is their foundation, there are other elements in their lives that are very
important, that can and must gel together with the master-slave dynamic. The
slave now recognizes that her choice to trust this master was a good one, because he
fully understands the importance of the kids. He is not mired in fantasyland. His
vision of master-slave is not so fanciful to exclude reality, and other priorities that
 enrich their life experiences.
She also is free to be a mom. She need not worry about the occasional necessity
for authoritative behavior required to nurture kids to adulthood. She can put the
children’s needs above her masters at times, because she knows, she really is doing
nothing of the sort. In fact, she is obeying her master by doing so. She now knows,
raising the lil varmits with sound values and opportunities is what she and her
master want. And is that not a wonderful mindset for a slave to have? The peace
that creates in her mind will re-enforce the trust she has given, strengthening the
relationship even further.
So that is the first step and in fact, the foundation for living master-slave amidst
the whirling dervishes. But there is another very important issue, be there kids or
not, and that is providing and building structure that she can feel everyday, and
meshing it into a seamless aspect of the vanilla world we live in. I am a big
believer in protocols and rituals that do this.
Anyone who has lived master-slave knows, there is no great whipping scene
every night. So how do you make a slave feel, both the goodness to submit and the
structure provided, without it being burdensome to both master and slave, while at
the same time, making it livable amid the vanilla world?
The answer is Invisible.
Rules, protocols, and rituals that form structure, particularly those which are
invisible to the vanilla (and kids) world, yet are there and practiced daily, are the
solution. It takes some thought, but aspiring masters are thinkers, so that is not an
issue. The extent of these protocols is only limited by the imagination of the
master, but here are a few, and more are detailed in Volume III

Transitional Focusing Rule

The slave, particularly if she works outside the home, but also, shortly after
master arrives home if she is a housewife, retires to the bedroom, kneels and takes
at least five minutes to clear her mind of the vanilla issues that fill her day. She
takes this time to focus on what is important to her. What is important to her at that
moment is us. The vanilla world, including the kids, have had their go at her all
day. This is an opportunity to take some time for herself, with the specific
instruction to focus on our relationship, to sweep the rest from her mind, to
deliberate issues she may want to bring up, things she would like to do/see/go; and
to focus on the choice she made to submit. What this does is it sets a frame of
reference for her mind so she can then address anything that needs addressing with
her master, in a non-vanilla mindset. This is not an exercise to make her a
whimpering mindless twit, but rather to enable her to address her master with all the
issues of the day, respecting the core values of the relationship. This needs to be
done every day. In time, she will not only look forward to it, realizing the benefits,
but she will come to rely on it.

I Am Home Dear

Another invisible rule that sets a tone for their time together and is kid-friendly,
is greeting her master. Each and every time he comes home, the slave makes sure
to go and kiss her master, not waiting for him to lug himself in and plant a little
peck on the cheek and an “I’m home dear” like in the vanilla world. Go to him.
And it is ok if the kids watch. All they see is two people, the two most important in
their lives, expressing love for each other. They see effort and initiative, and that is
always good thing.

Rug Bum

Now a fun one I like is the no sitting on furniture rule. For the uncreative, this
may seem like a totally visible rule, yet it is not to those with a little imagination.
Here is how it works.You have kids at home. Every night you have dinner
together. The rule states the slave cannot use seating furniture. But, that does not
prevent her master from giving permission for his slave to use furniture. So as
dinner is served and all are sitting down, the kids bantering on about their days,
Mom, aka slavegirl, has not taken her chair, she doesn’t have permission to.
Now she can stand there and glare at her master waiting for permission, or she
can just sit down. Neither of those choices are particularly respectful, both of her
choice to submit, or her master’s wishes. Neither choice would be very conducive
to retiring for the night with an unblemished bum and a happy master. But she can
exercise another option. The slave, embracing the spirit of her master’s rule, will
seek a way to ensure her obedience brings him pleasure, both in the act of
obedience, and the attitude of happiness she genuinely feels and displays in carrying
it out. But, she does so in a way that enriches them both, mindful that the
relationship is theirs, resolved not to involve, or impose on others unwittingly.
So instead of standing at her chair, scowling, tapping her foot impatiently,
bringing undue attention to herself (the self-absorbed and deadly, center-of-
attention slave), she needs to gain her master’s attention while appearing not ready
to sit. This is accomplished by puttering with her place setting, or table dishes,
speaking with the children, perhaps asking her master a question, or any other
appropriate behavior that keeps focus away from her not being seated. All she
 needs is to catch her master’s eye and a discreet nod, or wink from him is enough
for her to sit. As experience grows together, the master will more often than not,
see and grant permission discreetly without undue delay. It can become a seamless
invisible protocol, and it works.

No… Ok?

Another invisible protocol that is also very simple with wonderful benefits is the
“No” rule. Just ban your slave from ever saying the word “no” to you. Oh this is
fun!
Master: "Is the checklist for tonight’s party preparations complete, pet?"
slave: "No Master."
Master looks at the slave, grabs her by the hair and tilts her face up to him.
Master: "Did you just say ‘No’ to me, pet?"
Slave lowers her eyes.
slave: "Yes Sir."
Master: "Look at me slavegirl."
Slave meets his eyes.
Master: "Have you been taught not to say the word ‘No’ to me?"
slave: "Yes Master."
Master: "Did I explain to you why I have this rule?"
slave: "Yes Sir."
Master: "So you are then aware of this rule and the reasons for it. Did I have to
teach you why I have this rule?"
Slave bites her cheek realizing she almost said ‘No Sir’ again."
slave: "Sir, you did not have to teach me the reasons."
Master: "Goodgirl. But I did and now you are going to tell me why you are not
permitted to say ‘No’ to me."
slave: "Yes Master. Sir, ‘No’ is a confrontational word and you do not wish
there to be confrontation, either real or symbolic in our relationship. Also Sir, you
want me to be able to use the English language to express my thoughts and feelings
in more than one way to grow my creative thinking without stifling my ability to
communicate. You believe one must be able to express a thought in more than one
way, to master the skill of communication. Banning the use of the word to you is an
exercise using language to help me think outside the box. Sir, you also do not like
the implied negativity of the word."
Master: "Goodgirl. And no, you may not cum tonight."
Master cackles maniacally.
Simply ban the word. It takes some getting used to, (recommend is a "No Stick"
to ease the process), but the slave almost constantly is exercising her discipline as
your slave, again seamlessly and invisibly in front of the kids.
Oh and by the way… next up... ban the word no from the kids…. and good luck
with that one!
Interestingly, there is a wonderful side effect from the prohibition of the word
no. Enough slaves have provided feedback over the years that make it noteworthy
and worth relating. Slaves tend to carryover not using the word “no” into their
vanilla careers. They have even suggested it to co-workers as an unofficial
company policy, and the effects are astounding. In each case they reported less
animosity, confrontation and a generally more pleasant climate in their offices. So
there is method to our madness, slavegirls.
Then you can move on to banning the word "ok" used to you. While perhaps a
strange word to ban on the face of it, there is a simple reason. The most commonly
used word on the planet, regardless of language spoken, is the word "ok" For that
reason alone it is banned. There is nothing common about a master-
slave relationship and the choice of words is a good tool to reflect that. Beware
though. Enforcing the "ok" ban will inevitably result in the emergence of the word
"alright" into your slave’s lexicon. Slaves can drive you crazy sometimes. What
happened to the proven, age old, tried and true "Yes Sir", or "Yes Master"?

The Slave Hug

Another invisible technique is the slave hug, but without arms around the
master's neck. I will let you figure out why that is, or read about it and many more
of these in Rituals, in Volume III.

Back To the Kids

Now, I do not want to hear whining about the inability to practice S&M with
kids in the house either. Sheesh, have folks no imagination? First off, book a hotel
 once a month when you want her to scream. It does not have to be the penthouse
suite at the Marriott. There is no need to break the budget just to flogNfuck. Make
it some down and dirty no-tell motel and look guilty when you check-in. Ask for
the hourly rate, or preferably if they have a half-hour rate. Tell the clerk she
charges a lot and your room budget has been slashed, but you hope she is worth it.
Hey, it is a start, so she blushes. Wait until she sees the blush on her other cheeks
in the morning.
The age of the kids dictates largely how you handle this issue in a master-
slave household. If they are tots, it is not usually much of an issue. They are in
their cribs and you are in the basement with the baby monitor, wailing on her like a
wild banshee. If they are teens, well, have you considered taking the whips to
them? Good gawd… so tempting!
Sleepovers will become your new favorite passion. Getting rid of the spawn for
a night is like feeding a woman chocolate. It is totally addictive. Put a lock on your
bedroom door. Better yet, order her to do it. She will make sure it could secure
Fort Knox, such is her terror at being caught. There are more opportunities to use
your slave than you can possibly imagine, if you really want to. Learn about
quickies, the bendNbrace fast spank on Saturday afternoon. The hair pull and
crotch grope, growling cum now, in the kitchen, while the spaghetti cooks is a
favorite. God invented gags, bondage, Wartenburg wheels, vibrators and buttplugs,
just for you. You can use them at night without making a lot of noise. In fact, you
can torture the hell out of her without making any noise from whips, floggers or
hand spanks. There will be more angst when Mommy explains to curious daughters
why she is shaved, than using your slave with the kidlets hanging around. Get
creative. You are the boss. Oh, and one last thing. You are welcome to bring her
to my dungeon once a week. She can scream and holler all she wants then. It only
makes me smile.
Living master-slave with kids, amid a vanilla world is very achievable, unless of
course you do not want to. There is always a reason not to do something. If you
want it, go for it, you will make it. Just keep one thing in mind. Eventually kids
grow up. When it finally happens and your daughter brings home some studly and
introduces him as her potential master, try not to howl in laughter right then.
“So you want to master my daughter do you young fella,” throwing an arm
around his shoulder. “Come with me boy, we’re going for a walk and a very, very
long talk.”
She is always a Daddy’s little girl.
And for your son, who might one day aspire to mastery, following a path to a
lifetime of happiness, he needs to decide the path to choose. Will he become a
Pixel Prince, Chameleon Dominant, perhaps an Unconfirmed-Experienced Master?
Or, will you guide him to something more meaningful and fulfilling? Your choice.

Mind Fuck #19 - “Needled”

He so loved tying scenes to her behavior, not as punishment scenes, he didn’t

believe in those. These were more reflective of her behaviors to illustrate areas of
her recent action, both good and marginal. Rarely, if ever were they negative. He
enjoyed having fun, even if at times he was harsh, sadistic and coarse. She
experienced enough softer, kinder, gentler scenes that balanced the whole. He
believed in not limiting himself to any particular toy, or style.
Last weekend she had been in a saucy mood at the party. A little yappier than
usual, she bantered and teased the other masters as good as she got. When the
opportunity was there, she pestered them, though characteristically never crossed
the line. The repartee was very entertaining.
Now, she lay naked on the bondage table immobilized. Leather straps bound
her tight, even down to individual finger straps. She could not move a muscle and
lay quietly, blindfolded, immersed in the quiet of the room. Above her, parallel and
running the length of her body, hung a spreader bar tied off to the ceiling with a
bungee cord. It hung ominously. She had seen it while being strapped in and her
imagination ran wild, knowing her master could be very sadistic. Was this one of
those times? Butterflies came to her tummy.
She heard the medical cart rolled up. "Oh fuck", she thought. Already she
wanted this to be over, she knew what was on that cart, and none of it made her top
ten list. Despite the apprehension, a twinge was starting between her legs. He did
this to her every time. She was years past it bothering her, but it was amazing how
even now, he could make her wet so easily.
Sounds were coming from the cart and for what seemed forever, they
continued. There was nothing she could do but lay there and wonder. They were
strange sounds, unidentifiable. It must be hot, she thought. She was perspiring.
It had been silent for a while now and her mind was dropping. Even with
nothing, he could do this to her. Silence had always been a killer, the anticipation,
not knowing, sent her spiraling down into her heart and soul, to the deepest parts of
her slavery. She sensed more than felt his head beside her, but the whispered
growls did nothing but focus her more on who she was. The words hit her like a
sledge hammer to the brain.
“I own your body, cunt,” she heard whispered ruthlessly in her ear.
She moaned. Hearing him call her a cunt dropped her further. There was
 no doubt now, her master was on a deadly serious path with her tonight. There
would be no laughing. He was in that place she loved, strong and ruthless, her total
alpha. Her pussy was soaked and her mind dropped farther. Just calling her a cunt
did it.
“And use it how I want. There is nothing you can withhold, no pain, no
degradation, no marking, or humiliation that you won’t endure. I’m going to
puncture you slave, make you bleed and scream. You loved needling my friends on
Saturday. Tonight is your turn. I’m going to stick you until there is no place left on
your body that isn’t bleeding.
She was gone. Slipping deep into happy-happy land, she floated and immersed
herself in her master and who she was. The first needle went into her ankle. She
could feel the pain and rode it. The second pierced her other ankle, and the next
few went in her shins. He was climbing her body and deep in her sub-conscience,
she realized he was going to needle her everywhere. The needles in her thighs were
thicker, heavier and she moaned. The two lines came together at her cunt and
pierced there too. The lines separated again, still thick and painful through her
abdomen and breasts. She felt them go through her nipples, moaning as they
continued up her chest. When the first ones went in her face, she was so far gone
nothing mattered. They were thin and wouldn’t mark her, but that was not even on
her radar. She was his slave. She endured, needed, and wanted to be in this place.
Her mind had long forgotten her hatred of needles.
Each needle had a string and was individually tied to the hanging spreader bar
above her. She could feel the tension and pain. The sight was amazing; over one
hundred and forty needles pierced her body all tension tied to the spreader. Now he
was ready to really fuck her head. She was deep, but now would be sent deeper,
perhaps as deep as she had ever been.
Growling in her ear, he started gently cropping the bungee cord. Her moan was
guttural. The needles pulled and yanked at her skin. He struck the cord harder and
the bar jerked wildly, pulling the needles like a macabre marionette, stretching her
skin and drawing blood. They started to come out one at a time. He was going to
cut the string and remove each as it came free, but the loose ones were dancing
around, pricking at her body, adding a dimension he had not planned. They were
bonus sensations and he smiled. Striking harder, the blood flowed more freely,
until they were all free of her body.
What a trip he thought. Wild, deep and relevant, he loved it. He had treated her
wounds and released the straps. Covered in a light sheet she was coming to.
Without opening her eyes, she rolled to her side and cradled her head in his arm. It
had gone on for almost three hours now. Never before had she been this far-gone,
for so long. She amazed him and loved her more every day. There only seemed
one fitting end to the scene. Her cuddling aside, it was no time for tlc, he knew
 what she needed and it was one of those rare times after a scene he needed it too.
Her eyes opened and he growled at her again, and pushed into her mouth. She took
him with the passion of a slave in love with her master.
It was morning and they were awake. Her smile sparkled.
“That was fucking amazing Master!” she said.
He smiled. What the hell, he thought, then growled and slam fucked her to
oblivion.
 Chapter XIV - Murphy Brought His Law
We plan, create, plot and scheme. We are the devil in disguise. Fucking in a
slave’s head is just too much fun, so we do it. Typical domly sorts that we are, we
terrorize and tease, yes that is us. We make it habit to think up ways to confuse,
disorient and just plain mess with slavegirls. Yah, we are bastards, but loveable
ones, that will mind fuck and corrupt a slave with nary a second thought. Give me a
slave with plenty of guilt and sin, and I am in heaven, and you slaves would have it
no other way. Protest and deny if you must. Plead your case, scream out your
virginal innocence until the cows come home, but we know. You are going to be
our sluts, and you are not fooling anyone.
As good as we are, as talented, omnipotent, powerful, ruggedly good looking;
and being the quintessential almighty demi-gods of masculinity, with beach bum
flowing locks and rippling pecs; we do sometimes make booboos. Oh yes, it is true,
do not faint slavegirls. It happens. Rarely, almost never, in fact, but occasionally,
Murphy hauls out his law, and if it can go wrong, bank on it, it will.
Murphy’s not exactly a master’s best friend, but we have made his acquaintance
at dinner parties, soirees, and he will even pop in to say hi at home sometimes. He
is quite cavalier with the social graces, just showing up whenever the hell he feels
like it; and when he does, someone’s ego is going to get smacked. We masters are
good, we work hard to be so, but we are not perfect. Laughing at the bonehead
stunts we pull from time to time, is just part of the grand scheme. While we will
use cupping sets, violet wands, vacuum beds, and torture chambers, there are times
we want to crawl away in embarrassment, in need of either a frontal lobotomy, or a
bottle in front of me.
These are Murphy’s stories. They are not a master’s best moments, but they
happen, too often ending in fits of embarrassment and laughter. Enjoy the stories
knowing the bribe I accepted to put them in the book, is worth my red face, if you
dare bring these up upon our meeting at some BDSM event.

I Was Just Kidding, Pet

One of his favorite ways to start a mind fuck was growling into her ear. "This is
going to hurt you a lot more than me, pet", was his favorite. It was such a nasty
way to start. God he loved it. But is it true? Does it always hurt her more? He
was about to find out and it all started so innocently too.
He was headed to a fetish weekend in Rochester New York. The hostess of the
event had met a slave online, who lived near Toronto. They developed a friendship
and wanted her to come for the weekend. The girl was new to the lifestyle, an
innocent babe in the woods. She did not drive, so the hostess asked him to bring
her along, and it was arranged to pick her up. Though it was but a few hours drive,
there was plenty of time to chat with this girl, spin his magic, and fuck in her head
until she couldn’t think straight. Fresh meat, a new mind to play in and terrorize,
this would be so much fun, he thought. There would be nothing destructive, that
was not his style, but he would keep her off balance, wondering just what the hell
she’d gotten herself into. So, destruction of her innocence was planned.
She was a lovely lady, in her early thirties with a lovely face and figure. She
was bright and while shy, she had a good noggin and a curiosity for the lifestyle that
knew no bounds. As always, when around slaves, he filled his pockets with evil
implements of torture for the ride, tools that she had never seen, having no idea
what they were, or how they worked. Oh yes he thought, this was going to be fun.
Finally, on the road, they chatted and became acquainted. Conversation flowed
easily and it was not long before the lifestyle discussion started in earnest. Despite
keeping it light, clean and intriguing, she was soon wiggling in her seat. Smiling to
himself he thought, step one complete. Now to kick it up a notch.
“So you’ve never actually seen any of the things we nasty-boys use on innocent
slavegirls, pet?”
“Oh god no Sir, I feel like a naïve twit when talk of this stuff comes up. They
scare me, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.”
He dug into his pocket. “Well, here, I have a pair of clover clamps pet, have a
look and I’ll explain what they are and how they’re used.” Laughing diabolically
to himself, he thought, “Oh, this is like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Well, as is so often the case, it was time to take the conversation to a more
risqué level and he started. In moments she was blushing and squirming, but not
interrupting, rather devouring every word. All the while, she fondled the clamps,
absolutely enthralled with them. His words, the clamps and her imagination were in
perfect harmony. He wondered if the passenger seat had a wet stain. They drove
on, quietly now. He let her juices simmer. Finally, suggesting she try the clamps
on herself, she went crimson. She wiggled, hesitating, but so wanting to. It did not
take much prodding to have her nicely clamped. That they would soon be stopping
at the border crossing never crossed her lust filled mind. And so it was. Shyly
raising her top and with a little instruction, she got them on without much fuss, but
for a bright red face. She was on autopilot, unable to resist, hooked on a narcotic of
exotic sensuality and slavery. Her breasts had lovely nipples, long and wonderfully
stiff, perfect for the clamps. Absorbing the sensation, he explained the unique
characteristic of clovers and she was soon gently tugging at them, feeling them
 tighten.
“Don’t remove them pet, close your eyes, sit back, absorb the pain, process it.
Understand that enduring is part of who you are, part of what will be demanded of
you.”
She obeyed and sat quietly for miles. Now the border was almost upon them.
He smirked and wondered. Should he tell her, could he tell her? It was so tempting
to just let her sit in her own world, squeezing her thighs and riding the exploration.
But he could not. He slowed and approach the guard station.
“Pet, you look lovely, so much so that, in fact, the three hundred pound bull
dyke border guard is going to want you when she sees you so beautifully clamped.”
It is debatable who cried out first. The pain surging into her nipples as she
yanked the clamps off, or the pain in his face as they struck him. The clamps, fired
in panic, rocketed across the car with enough force to have pro baseball scouts
coveting that pitching arm. Both of them were in unexpected and intense pain. The
only certainty was her clutching her nipples and hearing her scream that the clamps
were his, not hers and oh dear god, please do not put me in jail!
The face bruise lasted a week, the tenderness in her nipples merely a few hours.
The next slave riding in his car, would be wiggling, squirming and playing with a
length of rope. Surely, she could not hurt him with that.

Did You Pee, Slave Girl

There are times that words come out of your mouth that sound so right in your
mind. But, the moment they find the light of day you know, instantly that this
would not go down as your most domly moment.
Poor Annii, it had gone so well for her too. Months he had built the
anticipation, screwing around in her head, letting the fever build. He was an
experienced fire-play artist, a master at setting poor innocent slaves alight. And
more than anything, lovely Annii was fascinated. It was one of her must-do
fantasies. Fireplay was her thing. Though she had never done it, it consumed her
thoughts. Just ordering her to diddle while fantasizing about flaming boobs, and
she became a sopping mess, thrashing about, heaving her pert ass off the bed like a
monkey at feeding time.
Well he could only string her along so far. Time had arrived to do the dirty
deed and apply sizzle to her heat. She was told all week that it was coming and the
days crawled by in torturous wet anticipation. She begged to cum each night, but
being a sadistic bastard he issued the Egyptian Rule. DaNile, Denile, Denial. By
 Friday night, she was a feverish filly, a walking orgasm looking for a place to
happen.
“Come here pet and kneel.”
She obeyed, smirking, anticipating, but cautious about the adage “be careful
what you wish for”. He would make sure to nurture that.
Kneeling humbly before him, eyes down, she represented the vision of
submissive beauty. Rock hard nipples on her exposed bosom were evidence her
heart raced. She settled quickly and standing in front he let her imagination begin
its magical work. Proceed slowly he thought to himself. Time was on his side and
patience would stir her libido and submissive heart. He silently circled knowing an
examination like this was difficult. The stare pierced to her heart and she felt the
familiar moistening which always accompanied his stalking.
The black silk suddenly covered her eyes and she felt it tied, sealing her sight.
Shivering, the waiting continued. Oh how she loved these moments of expectation,
the unknowing, the anticipation, and yes, even a tingle of fear. Moisture threatened
to grow into a stream down her thighs.
He left her kneeling and quietly assembled the equipment, knowing once started
his style of fire-play must be done quickly. She squirmed on the pillow, her thighs
very subtly clenching. She was very aroused. All was good.
Grabbing her by the hair and yanking her to her feet, he held her naked and
motionless against his body.
“Keep your hands to your side girl. Don’t move them and I will remove your
blindfold”, he whispered in her ear.
Obeying, he looked down into her beautiful eyes. She looked up with glazed
eyes, a passage to her soul. Such a wondrous slave he thought.
“You are a good girl and my slave. Tonight I am going to take you somewhere
new, to a place you have long wished for. You must be very still and obey every
command instantly or you will be badly hurt. Do you understand slave?”
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
“Good girl, then I will begin. Tonight I am going to light you on fire. You will
feel the flames on your back and see them on your breasts.”
He knew the words terrified yet aroused her like nothing else. She was an
adrenalin junkie and loved the risk of the games he played. That she might be
burned, or even scarred was part of it, but more so it was the unbridled trust she
gave that stuck with her. The freedom to experience, to trust, to follow stirred her
like nothing else, it was who she is and this act of burning, a manifestation of that
 identity.
Stepping back he dipped his fingers into the liquid and ran them under her
nose. She smelled it and knew it would burn.
“Be still my pet, or you will burn” he repeated.
She began to rock on her feet as she descended into that special place where her
mind and sensation blended into a cathartic production, and release of the drug she
produced so often for him. He deliberately kept her standing, to see the effect of
the fire on her body. Lying her down, or bent over a desk would lessen the pleasure
of seeing her sink to sub-space. Standing was more risky, and he knew he may
have to catch her soon.
Drawing a deep breath he passed his wet fingers above the candle. The flames
leapt skyward in a sudden flash and he waved them in front of her face. As quickly,
his hand disappeared out of sight, the flames extinguished before they could burn
him. He cackled maniacally grabbed her by the hair and kissed her.
“I won’t burn myself girl, but I cannot promise the same for you.”
A tremor coursed through her. She was ready.
Circling behind, he growled again, “Be very fucking still slave girl” and she
froze.
Dipping his fingers and lighting them again he began. First was her shoulders,
over and over, as she swayed and sank deeper for him. Then her back and bottom,
paying special attention to the lovely part in her cheeks. Moving to the front he saw
her eyes closed as she tried to remain still. She was sinking fast.
“Open your eyes girl, I’m going to light your tits on fire”.
And he did, over and over as she watched transfixed and deep. It couldn’t last
much longer, so with one final pass, he ran his blazing fingers across her face and
she gasped and started to collapse.
He grabbed her with one arm and reached down between her legs feeling her
cunt and the river that flowed. It is then, that the immortal words came spewing
forth, forever to last in the annals of “dom’s dumb moments”…
“Did you pee girl?”
The slow shaking of her head, and he wanted to crawl inside himself, mortified
at the faux pas.

Making Love
 “Cut the crap LT, you make this all way too much fucking work! Surely, there
is a faster, simpler, and just as effective way to dominate a woman than going
through all this shit.”
Oddly, enough, I have never been asked that by a woman. Only one man, a
good vanilla friend of mine had the balls to ask. So, I thought about it awhile, and
tailored my answer to a vanilla man’s point of view. In fact, I explained it, so not
only could he understand; he would leap at the chance to partake.
“Mike,” I said, “think about it like this.”
“A vanilla man makes love to his wife for an hour. After a few years, he usually
spends fifty-five minutes begging, and allows four and a half minutes for the
cigarette.”
“Now on the other hand, for the next thirty years, a master will make love to his
slave, each time, also for an hour. But he makes her beg the whole hour, then slaps
her ass, and makes her fetch his cigarettes!”

Guilt By Innocence

Attending a formal Dinner and Ball is quite traumatic, if only because of its
rarity in our lives. Expected behaviors, etiquettes, manners and high-brow civility
are so different than our more relaxed daily lives, that a case of the shakes and
nerves often sets in. Such as it was this night as we were among the country’s elite
for the evening, where expectations and civility are expected. A strange setting
indeed for a master and his slave.
Will we make a fools of ourselves, step on a dress, trip into the receiving line,
inadvertently utter a cultural faux pas, or worse yet, grab a cute debutante by the
hair and growl in her ear? What if I spill gravy down the front of my tux, not to
mention knowing which of the thirty-four forks at the dinner table to use first? Yes,
there are lots of things to mess with the mind and make anyone a bit nervous. Such
was the case with my slave. It hit her hard and she was a bundle of excited nerves.
It was an invitation to a black tie dinner and ball early on in our relationship.
She was still what most would consider new to the lifestyle, certainly the S&M
aspects, though she reveled and enjoyed them most thoroughly. This night after an
anxious day of preparation she looked absolutely stunning in her fitted evening
gown and long white lace gloves. Throughout the evening she was perfect.
Charming, beautifully engaged, cultured and well spoken with nary the tiniest
miscue. She was nervous but hid it with dignified calm.
It was the end of dinner and we were arising from the table when the shit hit the
 fan. Cultured denizens of the high-brow society looked at me as if the devil
incarnate had arisen among them. My lovely slave, in all her vanilla glory, when
arising from the table, forgot the purse in her lap. As she rose, it slipped off, falling
beneath the table. Before I could react and retrieve it as a gentleman should,
embarrassed, she quickly bent to fetch it. In her nervous desire to be inconspicuous,
she instead slammed her head into the table with such force to clang the coffee
china and draw most everyone’s attention. Immediately, she sank to her knees
almost unconscious such was force she dove downward. I had not seen that much
enthusiasm to go down since, well, the night before actually. Well, now see, it was
the Universe at work. The Universe knew the girl loved pain and with the Universe
as is so often the case, it gives you what you want, often just not in ways you expect
it.
The elite gathering stared in stoic indignity blaming me instantly, as this
uncouth ruffian helped the poor girl from the room. In hindsight it was quite
understandable. She could barely stand and leaning on me to steady herself, she
looked as though I had punched her in the face. But as master, being amidst the
dignitaries so accustomed to high brow etiquettes, it was important my slave not
take the blame. Gentrified manners demanded such. So with a flourish I
acknowledged the contemptuous glares … pointed, and blamed the waiter!
Innocent but guilty, and life moves on. If only they knew.

Sybian Stories

In the spring of ’02 deciding to indulge myself with a new toy, I began mulling
over things I could add to the dungeon repertoire. I wanted something extravagant,
something special and different. Only two items came to mind. The first was a
leather body bag. Acquiring one had intrigued me for some time, and it was easy
envisioning long hours of enjoyment. Sensory deprivation, immobilization,
claustrophobia, fear of death, buried alive, oh, all kinds of weird and wonderful
thoughts came to mind. A list of potential victims was already forming.
A second item also piqued my interest. It was this Sybian® contraption that had
gained such notoriety among BDSM enthusiasts. Knowing little of it except by
reputation, some research was in order. So seeking his opinion, I called my old pal
Greg the DevilDom.
“So what do you think bud, the body bag or the Sybian?”
“Oh hell that’s easy, he said. Get the Sybian. After being impaled and had her
teeth rattled for a few hours, you won’t need a body bag, she’ll already be as good
as dead”.
 Laughing, I knew instantly he was right. However, considering the cost, of
these contraptions, it seemed prudent to get the opinion of a slave with first
hand/pussy experience aboard the insidious impaler. So making another call, this
time to the only slave I knew, who had ridden the contraption, the truth would come
out.
“Pet, I recall you telling of having used a Sybian and want your opinion
whether it is really as good as folks say.”
“Oh Sir, it is always wonderful when you call, and I am happy to answer your
question. I have only been on it once when a bunch of slave friends and I were at
an event in Chicago a few years ago. Remember Philip, the dominant you met at
my house, well he was there and had brought along his Sybian. He invited us
upstairs in the hotel to try it out. Well, of course, he had six eager volunteers.”
I was already laughing at the enthusiasm in her voice and knew a memorable
story was unfolding.
“Well, there we were, six, fifty year old women along with a young girl, quite
new to the kink scene, who had shyly attached herself to us for the weekend. She
couldn’t have been more than twenty-two and there we were, filing into the
elevator, giggling like schoolgirls reeking of anticipation.”
“Well, sure enough, no sooner had we entered his room, out came the evil
device and one by one we all had a turn. We were buzzed, dialed, vibrated, stirred
and shaken to our cores. Sir, you have never heard such moaning and squealing,
or by the end, seen six more satisfied old slaves, completely exhausted and sated.”
I laughed, “So you recommend I get one then pet?”
“Oh Sir, I’m not finished the story.”
“By all means, carry on then pet”, I said still laughing.
“Well, in our euphoria, I realized the young girl who had joined us, was sitting
quietly in the corner watching the whole thing, quite mesmerized, but had not had a
turn. She seemed very shy about the whole thing, but her face was flushed. So,
while everyone was gushing and laughing in satisfied bliss, I went over and quietly
asked if she would like to try it out. She couldn’t look me in the eye, but blushing
furiously, nodded her head. Here now is the best part Sir.”
I waited with a big smile on my face.
“She was too shy to be naked in front of us, but dressed as a schoolgirl, she
managed to get astride it while still wearing her cute little kilt. She had lovely long
black hair that came to her waist, and as she leaned forward, it cascaded down
over her face so we couldn’t see her".
 “Then Philip dialed her up and we went back to our gab and giggle.
“Well, fifteen minutes later, we realized the poor girl had not moved a muscle
since boarding the pleasure train, and Philip figured it just wasn’t working for her.
So he asked if she was ok and not receiving any answer turned it off.”
I waited expectantly on the end of the line.
“Yes, I’m here, go on, what happened?”
I knew Carol was smiling on the other end.
“Sir, it was like a scene from the Exorcist. Her shoulders snapped back, her
face was covered in sweat, and I swear I thought her head was going to spin around
her neck. She looked up at Philip with the wrath of God in her eyes, then sneerin,
she growled in the most ungodly way and screamed at him to turn the fucking thing
back on!”
“Sweat poured off her face and it turns out Sir, she had been cumming the
whole time. She was in another world.”
Oh fuck I laughed and laughed and laughed.
“Ok pet, sold, I am getting a Sybian!”
So with that auspicious endorsement one was ordered, and as you can imagine,
the past few years have been great fun. By now, I had renamed the Sybian to The
Mule, so named for the mewling sounds emanating from deep within the slave soul
when the vibro-dial hits half-way and rotation is at full blast. The tales and
anecdotes of the Mule are so numerous that to include them all would be a book in
itself. However, some words of advice for those contemplating owning one are
prudent.

Biting

The first bit of advice offered is with extreme prejudice. Let another’s
experience be your warning. Do not, ever, under any circumstances, at any time,
stick your cock in a slave’s mouth and then turn up the Sybian intensity. Do not do
this… ever! While she may have good intentions, instinct will kick in and cause an
acute jaw clench. Your healing time is longer than you think.
To you know who… do you remember, pet?

Gushing
 Now understand too, the Sybian causes things to happen within a slave’s body
that are not routinely present in the normal state of affairs. In particular, you will
find that most slaves, when well stuffed and rotated like a rotisserie-grilled pig, do
not just emit ungodly pleas to a higher being, but actually will attempt to extinguish
the heat in an effort to relieve the relentless bliss forced upon them.
Using the Mule effectively initiates a slave’s automatic fire extinguishing
system. An explosion of projectile girl-goo will spew forth with no end in sight. It
is like unleashing a fire hydrant, or witnessing a volcanic eruption, female style.
For safe operation, dress like Noah, board your Ark, plant her on the Sybian, make
sure the electrical cord is clear of the backwash and ride out the storm. If your
slave is not a gusher, know now she will be!
So this is all is fine and fun at first. It is very amusing. But in time, this slave
gushing becomes so bad, and so destructive, that rules of engagement became
necessary for friends using it on their slaves. A time was that a master dropped
over, hauled out the Sybian and had a go at his slave. Not now, those days are now
behind us, and all because of this damn Mule and gushing girl-goo.
To save my home from the onslaught that flowed in abundance, towels are now
installed before mounting any slave. It is a House Rule. It was the only way to
save the carpets. But, that led to a second necessary rule. Countless loads of soiled
towels later, the rule now requires a slave to BYOT. I ain’t the damn laundry
woman! No towel, no Mule ride.
So now, with the living room safe and knowing the proclivity of slaves to
swamp us, for the pure enjoyment of masters we invented the Gushing Contest. If it
causes some embarrassment and humiliation in the slaves, all the better, we still like
it.
To play, the Mule arrives from the dungeon into the living room. With
strategically arranged towels in place, a very long piece of masking tape is then
stuck to the carpet behind. On the tape is marked a history of Mule rides. Recorded
for posterity are the names, dates, times, maximum length and relative volume of
memorable slave gushes. There, plain as day, are the marks of historical slave’s
performances and of course the targets to win the contest. Do not for a moment
think the slaves aren't into a little competition either. They see the three foot mark
from the back of the Mule, and come hell or high water mark, they want to push and
gush and one day be known in the Record Book as The Queen of the Gush, thought
we mostly just call her Fire Hydrant.

Camping
 The Sybian has also travelled to many an unusual place, none more so than a
lifestyle weekend of camping with a group of kinky miscreants in western New
York. Installed between a tent and a row of evergreens, it sat in semi-private
diabolical silence, awaiting its first victim. It did not wait long.
The evening was beyond cool, some might say cold, with most of us huddled
around a roaring campfire trying to stay warm, while telling tall tales of debauchery
and innocence lost. Some slaves were disappointed the weather had cut short the
intense play planned, but they were wise enough to keep those thoughts to
themselves.
Aware the evening needed an injection of active fun, a dominant arose, cast off
his blanket, grabbed his slave by the hair, pronouncing it time to dial her up and
plant her on the Sybian. With a roar of approval from the huddled masses, off they
walked the short distance to the tent and the fun that waited.
Wisely, before night fell, he installed outdoor lighting behind his tent, desirous
of seeing the effect on the fair maiden’s libido when properly mounted and
impaled. Unexpectedly, (though perhaps not), the lights silhouetted them through
the tent, to all around the campfire. With smiles and good-natured jest, we turned
to watch the show in black and white.
Part of camping in the wild is the spooky allure of nature’s unknown nocturnal
sounds. The crying howl of the hunter and the pleading cries of the snared, bedevil
those unused to living in the wild. Imaginations of many a slavegirl has run amok,
in fear of being helplessly tethered to a tree, while wild beasts stalk the woods. But
nature never heard a sound like the one echoing that night, once the first slave was
impaled on our old friend the Mule. It was a cacophony of orgiastic rapture, lasting
too long for her, and too short for us. Far too quickly, helped by her master and his
friend, she returned, legs dragging uselessly behind and her face drained of
emotion. Thrown into her chair, the girl was utterly, and obviously spent.
Some wry smiles made their way around the fire. Just to increase the lucky
slave’s embarrassment, a dominant barked to his slave.
“So girl, come then, and when you are mounted and stuffed, are you going to
sound like a wild hyena like her”, he said.
There is nothing like a good question to raise embarrassment in two slaves
instead of one. Everyone but the slaves laughed.
From there it was a steady parade of slaves to the Mule Proving Grounds. Each
silhouetted in their own erotic dance with a unique version of a wild mating cry, in
time returning wobbly legged, breathless and exhausted. Cheers and jeers erupted
upon each return from what now seemed a panel of corrupt Olympic judges.
 The evening wore on until but one slave remained un-breeched. She and her
master were nervous about displaying their kink even among similar minded folk.
He seemed unsure about exploring a Mule odyssey, while it was obvious, she feared
the sexual boldness required of her. She was very shy. Trying to overcome her
quiet shell, I leaned over and asked how she enjoyed camping.
“Oh, I hate it. I haven’t been camping in over thirty years, and then only once
when I was sixteen”, she said quietly.
She was not much of a talker, indeed seemed reticent, was probably cold and
obviously wanted to be elsewhere.
“Well, are you going to take your turn on the Mule”, I asked?
She flushed and jerked her head fearfully at her master, unsure what to say, or
do. The thought terrified her, but seemed to instill some courage in her master and
he rose, walking toward her.
“Your turn girl, come.”
Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her toward the tent, and a date with infamy.
Predictably, moments later, the howls and moans of wild wolves began yet
again, accompanied by the panoply of voyeuristic amusement. Returning with the
aid of two others, the girl was totally wasted and utterly bereft of body control.
Plopped down in her chair, wrapped in blankets and illuminated by the dancing fire,
she was off in lalal-land, her girl-fin throbbing still. Is there ever a better sight for
any master, regardless if you own the slave?
Around the campfire, talk went forward. She could not utter a word, or even
follow along, even if desiring to partake of the conversation. Everyone soon forgot
her embarrassment and the evening entertainment moved on.
I watched her slowly come back. First, her eyes opened, unfocused though they
were, she slowly realized where she was, what she had done and the show she
thought she must have put on. A small smile was on her face.
“Ah the slave Louann has returned”, I announced to the group.
“And how did you enjoy your trip, young slave girl?”
Silence swept around the campfire awaiting her answer and with unintended
dramatic flair, she uttered the now famous words that the Sybian seems to bring out
of people…
“I fucking love camping!”
 Mind Fuck #20 – “The Report"

Be careful what you wish for is never truer than when owning a slave. Even
simple commands seem to take on a life of their own with all the twists, trials and
tribulations we encounter in everyday life. Now it seemed at the time, a
straightforward command, easily enunciated and understood. The purpose was to
explore and learn a little something more about my slave, and maybe have some fun
along the way. Well, oh no, that was not to be. Who knew the results would end
in hilarity and tears down the face laughter.
You see, it was the insidious Sybian again, the quintessential little toy to help
torment a slave and move her into the wonderful state called “Oh fuck… oh Fuck…
OH FUCK… Master, let me cum or I am going to fucking die”… a delightful state
by all accounts. Well see, at issue here, was not that she had never straddled,
impaled and dialed up on the Mule, for certainly she had. Mounted and well
gurgled, she had cum on more than one occasion, much to both our delights.
But the Sybian comes with multiple amusing attachments. From the
embarrassing little finger which when properly inserted leads to wonderful
humiliation like Well, if you hadn’t constantly fisted yourself from puberty girl, you
could feel the damn thing, to Whoa Nellie, you’re echoing always designed to cause
a smirk on my face and embarrassing doubt on hers. The G-spot attachment is a
favorite, aka The Gusher, which produces projectile girl-goo the volume and
direction of which would challenge the analysis skills of a Crime Scene Spatter
Expert. Then there are the various girth size slip-on rubber cocks that go from
small Oh, that’s nice, to Ooomph… to OMG, I can’t get that in, to my all-time
favorite, Digger. Digger is a rather thick, (ok, fucking really thick) toy, so named
by a femdom friend, who on seeing it proudly pronounced it was the size of her
slave named Digger, then promptly could not get it in! Pffft… and they say men
exaggerate size!
Despite her limited, albeit exciting experience on the Mule, this cute little slave
of mine, had never tried all the attachments. The command was to put an end to
that.
It was a simple task. While business kept us apart for a week, the little saucy
butt was told to use that time experimenting with the Mule. Told to use each
attachment to orgasm and after each night to write about the experience, what
worked, what did not, which speeds and what rotation made her see stars, made
thighs tremble and lips swollen. By the end of the week, she would have a report to
which I looked forward to with altruistic intention. I planned to find out what made
her cookie squishy. It was a simple task, nothing too fancy, and would save me
hours of experimenting, thereby eliminating much torment and frustration for her.
So see, this task really was all about her and the big-old-meanie-dom really does
 spoil the little slave. Or so were the good intentions of well laid plans.
A week later, she presented this Report. All grammatical miscues are retained
for posterity. I am told it is tough to write well, when everything is inflamed.

The Sybian Report

Well I'm not quite sure how to being this since it is all very new, but I will try to
relate the functional means of the Sybian, almost all attachments, speeds, and
experiences that happen to go along with it.
The first opening and set up of the Sybian took a few minutes to put together,
which way does it face, what is this cord for, do I need to adjust this lump of plastic
on the velcro strip, bed or floor, how many towels will I need, lube where’s the
lube, etc.
So the Sybian gets set up on the bed, now which attachment to choose from? I
decided to go with the simplest of all forms, the clit stimulator without any
insertables, might as well start at the beginning.
Looking at the machine and removing your pants is always an interesting time
for self reflection and some head shaking (internal self talk: i want it, but it’s a
machine, your taking you pants off for a machine, but it will be so good, but it’s a
machine, but but but .....you don't have a choice you know you want it anyway, get
on and quit thinking cause you have a report to write)
#1. Attachment: Clit Stimulator
Rotation: N/A
Vibration: OMG… ½ way was as far as i could get it to go without freaking
out and laughing (but on a serious note this could be very painful if cranked up to
full speed and had to stay there.)
Outcomes and Comments: One nice body flowing orgasm and a quick shut off
to the controls.
Special Note: Leaving the vibration on half knowing an orgasm is approaching
can be a bit nerve wracking. After that orgasm hits i knew i was going to be ultra
sensitive, the solution was to turn the vibration down low, have an intense orgasm
without being scared, allow the vibration to let another orgasm build up then go for
it again repeating the turn up, turn down method to intense repeated orgasm relief.
(I did not learn this until the 3rd last attachment).
#2. Attachment: The small one other attachment fits onto with the spring
option.
 Rotation: ¾ of the way, I was able to get the rotation up all the way but really
couldn't feel it as much as the ¾ rotation.
Vibration: Kept the vibration fairly low between ¼ and ½ way but settled on
about a ¼ of the way.
Outcomes and Comments: The attachment felt good but did not lead to an
orgasm stayed on this one for about 30 minutes.
#3. Attachment: G-spot on a spring
Rotation: full rotation is very much possible but it had the most impact at ¾ of
its full speed.
Vibration: starting out slow and going up to ½ way.
Outcomes and Comments: This is one of my faves. The g-spot attachment
makes me want to fuck the fucking machine, it feels great and provides a wonderful
orgasm... the longer you try to fight it and stay on it without cumming the more it
affects you, we're talking eye rolling goodness and weak knees. Careful getting on
and use lube.
#4. Attachment: the larger attachment even larger attachments fit onto, using
the plastic stick.
Rotation: Started out lower for rotation, the plastic stick it stiff, much stiffer
then the spring option. I took it a little bit easier to start but found full rotation felt
better with the stick option.
Vibration: again about half way
Outcomes and Comments: The plastic stick rocks!! i have found a new favorite.
It gives you something to grind against and assists in providing hard orgasms * big
smile*.
#5 Attachment: Smallest of the penis attachments (which isn't all that small),
on a hard plastic stick (kind of like ice cream for your cunt * winks *)
Rotation: medium to full rotation .. rotation is fun to play with especially before
the vibration is on cause then you really feel it, after being desensitized you can't
feel it as much, you just wonder why your moving and not trying to. Did i mention i
have mirrored closet doors? The Sybian is on the bed and i can see myself the
whole time (if i choose to) in the mirrors across the room (i only glanced a couple
time, cause that was a bit too weird).
Vibration: playing with it on low to half way, try to go over half way and tense
up a lot then turn it right down again and back up to as much as i can take.
Outcomes and Comments: i think i was on the Sybian for about 5 mins. Before
having a great orgasm ( i was also at home on lunch break so it had to be quick, in
this case set up and tear down took longer, i'm sure my cheeks were flushed going
back to work).
#6 Attachment: Mini Auger (the medium size penis attachment) with the stick.
Rotation: various, again easy to start as the stick is stiff, i think i bent this one a
little bit experimenting with the rotation dial.
Vibration: ¼, ½ just over half and back down again.
Outcomes and Comments: thick, and filling this is another attachment that
caused a quick hard fast orgasm. Fun!!
#7 Attachment: The Finger, with plastic stick
Rotation: High
Vibration: low to medium
Outcomes and Comments: the most embarrassing of them all .... The Finger...
just one.. taking your pants off to get on the finger, feels like your getting a pap test,
and it is a long drawn out tease... 20 mins, 30 mins, its like its never gonna end, like
you just can't cum cause it feels good but compared to the other ones you really
have to work on this one gyrating and grinding and sweating wanting to cum and
actually having to work for it !!!! but relief at last. One orgasm to complete the
finger project.
#8 Attachment: Digger
Rotation: low, to medium to just over medium.
Vibration: low, ½ way to a little over half way… almost ¾ second round
Outcomes and Comments: Digger is Huge !! freakin' Huge, i didn't want to, i
was scared, i felt like the biggest slut on earth, it burns and stretches going in, i
used a lot of lube and a condom just for slide factor, i had to put the Sybian on the
floor cause the bed just wasn't sturdy enough to get Digger in there. The rotation
starts and its feeling alright, turn it up a big more and that’s good too *breath
remember to breath *, then the vibration ...oh god yes the vibration is good turn it
up a bit more. All the other attachments i was able to lean over to rest my elbows on
the bench in front of me except Digger, Digger has you sitting up straight fingertips
resting on the bench. The first orgasm is an entire body clenching orgasm, it took a
little time for the room to come back into focus. Now that i have the controls figured
out i left it on low vibration for a few minutes before turning it up any higher, then
even higher than i had ever had it before. The second orgasm took a bit longer but i
enjoyed every minute of it including the leg cramp… but there wasn't any way i was
going to try to get off to stretch out a leg cramp then get back on. The intensity of
the 2nd orgasm was unbelievable it built up then exploded the room went dark for a
second every muscle in my body was contracting and exploding with extreme
pleasure. When i could finally see well enough to shut off the control buttons and
climb off Digger the only thing i could do was lay on the bed and catch my breath
and get some strength back. I have a new favorite. :)
That leaves only one that has not been tried, the double insert.
Sir thank You for allowing me the opportunity to experience all of these
wonderful new sensations and ideas. There were times i was truly challenged by
getting on “The Mule”. You have caused me to grow as a person, one of the biggest
lessons i had to learn was don't be so quick to judge before trying and with you in
my life i'm thinking this rule may come in handy. Again Thank You.
your slave
 Chapter XV - Moving On
Well, that was easy.
Learning mastery is not so difficult when the Lifestyle Principles, the Issues,
Skills, and Knowledge are presented clearly.
You are now well qualified to talk-the-talk, about mastery and the master-slave
lifestyle. The Theory, Issues and Skills, it is all there.
There is just one step left, and it is the fun one.
Absorbing the tenets of mastery discussed in Volume I - The Master - The Slave
- The Power, and now the specific issues of Volume II Mastery Refined: The Issues
- The Skills, the only thing left, is to bring it all together, and create the structure
you want.
Volume III of this trilogy, is really the reason this project was undertaken at all.
Ask yourself, or examine the information available to masters about developing a
sustainable and livable structure, and as importantly, what information you can seek
out, about how to actually train a slave?
The answers to those questions are as varied as access to the internet allows.
Every Tom, Dick, or Harriet has an answer. In truth though, most answers are
bereft of detail, creative thought, or realism. Much flowery fluff exists, and lots of
this is how you kneel, slavegirl. Well, that took thirty seconds. Is that it? For
many, sadly, it is.
In researching whether this project was necessary and could contribute, it
became clear, the skills and techniques important in training a slave, appeared a lost
art. Too much silliness abounded. To me, the lifestyle had taken a turn away from
the fundamentals of sustainable master-slavery, towards a seat-of-the-pants,
gunslinger approach, particularly with regards to training.
Volume III Sustainable Structure & Training, is the final and climactic step on
the ascent to mastery. Any master desiring to train thoroughly, as he sees fit, yet
responsibly, needs a way to do that. Preparation To Own, the Me List, a clause by
clause look into a reality based Master-Slave Contract, and developing a Training
Style, are all tools he needs.
All that leads to the heart and soul of sustainable mastery – The Training
Model. Now do not get your bollocks jangling. It is not what you may first
perceive, a blueprint, a my way, a this is the only way. It is far craftier than that.
Masters will love it, but not more than slaves will!
 Training a slave is master specific. No two masters train identically, because no
two have the same needs, goals, or even niches of the Three Powers. Hence there is
not now, nor ever can be, a blueprint for slave training. That is a given. Even
training by the same master of different slaves, by necessity, cannot be the same.
Each slave also has unique needs and reacts differently to the same rules. So, each
training situation is unique, unquestionably.
With all those variables, how then can training be explained, taught, and made
sense of, in a book, that works for most everyone, while avoiding prissy
generalizations?
The answer is the Training Triumverate. Volume III explains it in detail. You
will be surprised at its simplicity, and effectiveness…. for everyone!

Thank you.
LT Morrison

Perge!