A small notebook bound in Moroccan leather had fallen behind the shelves and it was only when we were clearing out the bookcase that it came to light. I saw you blush and remembered what it was, more by the expression on your face than anything else.
"You remember, Yuri? It was where I wrote my heart out all those years ago. You gave me the book and you used to have me kneeling in front of you as you read my entries."
"You had a special pen as well" looking at the writing in your neat controlled hand.
"That went... with Susan."
"Ah yes. The ink changes here." I leafed through the pages. There were blocks of text and lists of things: clothes to be worn: accounts of punishments received: letters written by hand, erotically intimate in an era of electronic communication.
"Didn't she find this at one stage?"
"Mmmm... It might have been the final straw."
A few lines sprang into focus. "Perhaps she knew she was outclassed."
"Outclassed, Master Yuri?"
"By you." I touched you on the cheek and you naturally turned your head into my palm. "Our women never stood a chance, did they? Funny how we started writing like each other. We converged."
"The first convergence was physical." We sat down among the half-packed debris and you leaned into me. My arm naturally went round you and you opened the book on your lap. "After our bodies, it became mental. I became you, Yuri."
Our eyes looked at the pages of neat writing.
+++
"I realise that so far my submission has not been strongly tested. Especially as I know anyone could have been as obedient as I, and you have so far been careful to bind me loosely so as not to spook me. What I mean is, although I had truly given myself to you I have had to control part myself to behave properly. For instance, in not protecting myself from your beatings and your slaps and pinches. And these have mostly been light, arousing, even pleasant. You made me giggle like a little girl.
"But tonight, you've tied me up very securely and very tightly. I'm on my knees with my wrists tied to my ankles and my elbows tied to my knees. My open sex is forced up in the air, my face buried deep in the rough carpet. My collar is attached tightly constricting me and the ball gag makes me want to throw my head back in order to breathe. I've never felt so naked and so exposed in such a humiliating fashion, I can feel a cool draft around my sex leaving me in no doubt I'm in serious trouble. I'm just so frightened especially as I know you're soon to return to inflict serious pain on me. You were so gentle as you pulled me to you by the leash around my little cock and the way you bound me, but your soft words each carried an implacable heaviness. My heart is pounding, like a clock ticking away the moments before the inevitable.
"I regret everything, I hate myself for letting me get into this situation. How did I let myself get into this, I wonder. Like many sex slaves in the past, no doubt, and in the future, I would let the world burn around me in order to get me out of this at this precise moment but I would cry forever if it were not to be experienced.
"The thing is, I did not let myself get into this, it's Your will and I am simply a vessel for Your desires. This explanation does not comfort. I can feel the veins in my neck throbbing. If I can just get away, hide if only for a moment. Maybe roll under the sofa. I try to move, but it is futile. The realisation that my body is totally useless for any other purpose than as a receptacle for unimaginable pain simply makes me even more terrified. I realise this is all suddenly very real. There is no turning back, I am helpless and will be beaten, soon. I shudder as if someone has walked on my grave. I have gotten off the real world and entered one inhabited and invented and totally controlled by Yuri, my Master. His soft sweet words gentled me until I was helpless. Then He told me the truth. My stomach churns. I think I have lost all sensation in my tightly-bound up little stalk of a cock.
"What's taking him so long? I wish this was all over... No I don't! That invites the arrival of the torture and that's the last thing I want. If I was to be tied up like this for eternity then I would chose that instead. Do I really relish the bondage so much? There is no answer except the beating of my heart. I feel so alone, waiting for the one person who can free me, who will hurt me.
"You said you would return like a wild beast and there is no doubt in my mind you will. The longer you delay I know the harder you will be on me, and the weaker is my resolve that I can take your punishment. But take it I must, not because I want to, not because I enjoy it, but because I no longer have an option. I gave it to you. I know I am your slave and it is what you want.
"I try to think of something else, but I can't. I can only think of you, soon you'll be coming for me, if you aren't already here watching me. To release me, to punish me, and finally to make love to me. But to release me from what, punish me for what, to love me with what? It does not matter. I'm your submissive.
"Why am I in bondage, when a command would have sufficed? I've always been compliant and obedient. At this moment of total vulnerability I think I begin to understand my Master's ways: to be really in bondage one must feel its power in taking away ones liberty. If one slept all night in the same position without moving then being in bondage would be irrelevant. But bondage is only effective if the victim wants to escape the constraints and what better than to give the victim some incentive? Then not only is the victim suffering the thought of pain, they are also suffering the helplessness of being unable to prevent the pain. I know my Master is savouring my anguish, my body revealing my sex so wantonly, my feeling of total helplessness in his hands. In seeing me enter this helpless and prepared to suffer he knows my submission is true. I think I understand the requirements from a slave: submission, obedience, bondage, punishment. It's all the one cycle, each stage is part of the same cycle, re-enforcing the next. Punishment at the end leads back into submission. Tonight, every link in the cycle has been strengthened and intensified.
"I think he has now most probably entered the room. I can hear his bare feet walking softly on the carpet. He's most probably extremely rampant and stroking his cock. I suppose in a moment he'll walk round to a position from which I'll be able to see him."
+++
"Oh God! It's over... My bottom feels is as if it's on fire, and still, I'm relieved. Relieved I got through it. I stroke your wet hot chest, my hands now tied together in front to emphasise my last test of submission to you. My face is wet with tears. I want to rub my behind but I know it's still yours to play with as you wish. Like a victor surveying his spoils you move your hand over the now tender area of my buttocks. To emphasise the point I can feel the whip in your other hand gently brushing my back as you press me closer to you. I feel so helpless I can't do anything but I melt into you and start to quietly cry on your shoulder. There. Every last shred of my own free will has been exorcised, replaced by your presence. I'm nothing, existing only in your world.
"'Tell me how much you enjoyed that' you whisper.
"My instant reaction is: I didn't! I hated every minute! My arms ache, my throat is sore from crying, my jaw is sore from holding the ball gag in order to keep me quiet, my bottom is afire in total submission. There is no fight left. The contrast of the tender gentle person You sometimes are having such a strong brutal side frightens me. The more so for the contrast.
"But I hear myself saying 'Thank you for my punishment, my Master. It was very, very necessary. Every time you touched me with your crop I felt your savage pleasure, I felt so strangely excited, an excitement beyond mere sensation.' Amazingly, I know I mean it, as I know it has brought me closer to the fulfilment of my goal, to be a good slave to you. The words you taught me to say: as I rest in your comforting embrace I realise these are the right words.
"What will be next? More punishment? I can feel your cock pressing into my side. You tell me to suck it but to remember to show my bottom to you. As I take your cock into my mouth, I can feel your hand passing over my buttocks and back, gently stroking the welts and the bruises."
+++
"I can't believe it has happened. For better or worse, I'm holding your sperm inside me for the very first time. I lie here feeling content that I've served my Master in the best way possible, I've finally become the vessel for your seed. I want to cuddle up closely letting your arms embrace my body, as your seed silently embraces me within and sinks into me. I can still feel how your cock pounded me into submission. It was such an amazing way to take you: I lay flat on my back, and you spread my legs open and back. I was so helpless! My wrists were tied up over my head to the bed-post preventing any sort of movement. My sex so exposed to you. For a while I was a little apprehensive as I realised the enormity of your action. For the first time I had a good view of your rampant cock moving towards its target. There was no doubt that this time I was going to take your seed. All I could do was simply watch and observe. I felt the tip of your cock nuzzling against the ring of my sex, force its way through, and then gradually slide itself inside. You went deeper and deeper, your eyes large. You started to pound me harder, going right into the back of me. As you pounded, beads of sweat dropped onto my bare chest, as precursors to what soon would be happening within.
"For all these years I've worried about this type of sex, but now it's happened I'm secure in your arms and nothing else matters. The scent of your body mixes with the floral perfume I put on for you and I know everything is as it should be. There is an intense feeling of my femininity next to your masculine body.
"Quietly I thank you my Master for the privilege of holding your seed. I am so proud and yearn for the opportunity to hold more.
"Done on the 1st August, 1992, the day after your visit."
+++
"The little home in which I can finally entertain my Master. Two small rooms downstairs, the top floor taken up by a very large bed and little else. Of course, a large bathroom in the annexe - where would a trannie be without her bathroom!
"I took the afternoon off, in order to get myself ready for you. First, the slave in her finery. Dark brown and purple velvet bra, suspender belt and thong. Finest pale grey silk stockings, I feel a little tremor in my heart as my fingertips slide along my leg. To be so beautiful for another! I hope you like the little fuck-me sandals I found in Oxford Street with their strap over the ankle. My toenails painted a shell-like pink to match my fingernails and lipstick.
"I've shaved myself everywhere, and rubbed scented body lotion into myself for hours. My little stalk is as naked as the day I was born. In accordance with your wishes I masturbated twice last night, once this morning, and once again this afternoon. I don't think I'm going to trouble you with my sexual urges! I've douched my asshole over and over again and lubricated myself with vaseline. I can feel me moving against myself as I walk around; the high heels help. Lucky girls who are allowed to parade around like this all day! I hope my bum looks sexy for you. You call it my 'sex' and that is what it is for you. My sex which exists only to delight you.
"I look at my wrists. Those are always the dead giveaways. Do they look like a guy's? I turn my hand this way and that. The big jet black ring on my ring finger gleams in the candlelight. They'll do, I say to myself: keep my fingers straight to emphasise the length of my hands. I won't wear any bracelets on them tonight - I smile at the thought. Master no doubt has his own plans for that sort of thing. At least my nails are manicured and lacquered to perfection. Is my makeup right?
"Once again I head to the mirror and look at myself critically. I see to my intense surprise a person actually not far removed from the person I would want to be. I wish my neck was a little thinner, my shoulders less broad, but I love the creamy smoothness of my skin. Actually, Yuri said he loved the way I look. My eyes are dark, but not theatrically so, and my blusher makes my cheekbones stand out. He likes it when I accentuate my cheekbones - perhaps I look less blonde ango-saxon and more slavonic to him when I do that. Glossy lips. A white silk camisole lets the underwear beneath make its own statement. The hint of a cleavage. The hormone cocktail seems to be fine for the moment: I expected all sorts of noxious side effects but nothing so far. More food would be nice though. I wonder if I should have another glass of water to hide the pangs and decide not for the moment.
"I float back to the space I call the living room. I can feel myself walking. I can feel the camisole brush against my pampered body as I move. This is me. I get a small whiff of the perfume I've doused myself with - he likes a lot of it on me, and so do I. There are candles everywhere, giving everything a warm golden glow. I wander round, checking each candle to make sure it can burn down safely. There may not be much time to devote to the candles once Yuri arrives. Damn well hope not!
"I have the tools laid out on the side table for his use. I look at them fondly. Cuffs, ankle straps, paddles, flogger, and the riding crop we purchased together. Chains aplenty, some lengths of neatly coiled rope. THE collar at the front. One day, I'll be able to wear his collar all the time, I say to myself. Just now, it's our pleasure that I kneel in front of him as he puts it back on my neck.
"I look at the clock. Half-past gone already. I think of the drive from London and I touch wood almost accidentally to wish that you are safe. Any minute now I'll hear the scrunch of your tyres on the gravel as you park your car next to mine, the slam of the car door, the sound of your footsteps and the ringing of my bell. I've taken off my little gold cross necklace which you gave me because I know it'll interfere with your pleasures but I wish I could press it to me just now as I wait for you.
"Time passes. I touch my nipple over my soft clothes and hope that soon it will be your hand that does this to me. I feel my whole body has become a glamorous concoction for your pleasure, and realise how lucky I am to have someone who appreciates the concoction for what it is. Your fragrant slave. Only you could say something like that to me!
"Ah. Master cometh."
+++
Lackland's Oath:
The submissive should only answer 'yes' after each question while looking into Master's eyes. She should try to convey the true spirit of submission each time she says this word. The mnemonic is SOB: Submission, Obedience, Beauty.
Do you submit to me in your body, mind and soul? - Yes. Will you obey me immediately and without hesitation? - Yes. Will you always do your best to look beautiful for me? - Yes.
Master Yuri learnt this from his first Master, Master Oldfield, when he was a teenager. Who Lackland was has been lost in the mists of time. We only have an old Latin tag from him, which has been passed down together with this solemn oath: haec olim meminisse iuvabit ("he commanded this should be remembered for ever.")